Chapter 41: Into The White
"We hold our daughters close and sing to our sons: change will surely come..."
Nexus Shade slunk through the darkness.
The cries of children begging for supper and lunch stabbed his extra pair of ears, along with the moans and giggles of cheap whores and sluts and the grunts and thrusts of men and women. Mud splashed with every step he took, clinging to his boots like cheese off Penny's fingers. He squinted, stopping before the quaint little hovel, just three alleys down the street, the paint flaking off its dingy walls.
Half-gone, even.
"Hey," some guy said, his eyes glowing green. He stood right beside the door. The poor thing hung on its hinges, just one breeze away from falling off. "Here to join the club?"
Nex shrugged, his eyes narrowing. Oathkeeper's hilt creaked under his glove, even as he rasped and deepened his voice. "What do you think?"
"Chill, man," the guy said, his extra pair of ears twitching. Orange dog ears. He held up his hands. "You're prickly. But so is everyone else."
Nex scoffed, the breeze blowing at his hood. His extra pair of ears stiffened, the tips brushing the taut fabric. "Let me in. Or I'll let myself in."
"That's enough."
A tough, sinewy hand pressed on his shoulder, squeezing through his jacket.
"Commander Taurus!" the guy said, snapping into a salute.
Apparently, the Taurus guy was a big shot.
Good to know.
Something to tell Ironwood, at least.
But still, he must have been really out of it, if he let the Taurus guy sneak up on him.
Fuck.
"Mind taking your hand off?" Nex said. Oathkeeper hummed, halfway out its scabbard. "Don't want to chop off an arm tonight."
Taurus lifted his hand. Steel rasped against steel. "Neither do I. I'm not our enemy."
Nex rolled his eyes, thrusting Oathkeeper back into its sheathe. "You're not. It's the oh so terrible humans, right?"
Taurus laughed, sheathing what was definitely his own sword. Two heads, along with red hair and horns over a mask. Why the fuck did people have to be so tall? "I'll take that as good-natured sarcasm. What's your name, friend?"
"Nightshade. Nyx Nightshade," Nex said as the goon wrenched open the door. "Just your average guy with an extra pair of ears."
"Nightshade. Nyx Nightshade," Taurus said, clicking his tongue. His lips tilted into a smirk. "A fitting name. For a warrior."
Nex—no, Nyx nodded. He really had to start thinking with his alias now, so his real name would not slip from his tongue. "What's yours?"
"Taurus. Adam Taurus," Adam said, waving at the doorway. The stench of refuse stung his nose. Yuck. "Shall we?"
They slipped into the stairwell, side by side as they followed the maze. Shadows and cobwebs covered every inch of the hole. Pitter patter. Patter. Water dripped from the ceiling, washing away the mud from his boots. If only his skeletons would melt so the water could wash them away too.
Fuck.
If only he could tell her—
No.
There was no point in thinking about what-ifs.
The only thing left to do was to keep moving forward.
Wherever forward went.
His eyes narrowed, even as the heat leapt from his stomach and smothered his chest like two sets of flat irons.
How the hell could he have been so careless?
Forgetting about the mask. Leaving it in his pocket. Then having her find the thing.
Fuck.
He should have disposed of it the very first chance he had.
"What brings you here, Nyx?" Adam asked, head turning towards him.
Nyx shrugged, taking a long drag of last week's dinner. "It's the olfactory ambience. As well as a chance to finally put the humans in their place."
"Too many of our brothers and sisters join for lack of food and shelter," Adam said, his lips twitching. Almost into a smile. "It's refreshing. To see one who remembers our true cause."
A thick crowd bustled in the chamber ahead. Some of the masked faunus sat against the murky walls, a river of sludge running through the middle. Dust-powered lamps hung over the corners, static buzzing out the cracked ones every now and then.
"Do I get a mask?" Nyx said, quirking an eyebrow. "It's in fashion, apparently."
Adam spared him a look, head turning towards him. "Our watchman should have given you a set."
Oh.
Fuck.
Nyx shrugged, adjusting his cloth-mask. "You have a spare?"
Adam reached into his back pocket. "Happens enough that I do."
The bull held out a familiar ceramic.
Nyx took the proffered mask, gold glinting on its polished surface. He slipped the damn thing over his eyes. "Fits like a glove. Or well, a mask. You get the point."
Adam chuckled as they strode into the chamber. "As it should. You're one of us now, Nyx Nightshade. Joining the Fang's for life, and we take care of our own."
Nyx rolled his eyes, taking Adam's left flank. Great. For life, huh?
Nope. As soon as he got something concrete—maybe a map of the White Fang's hideouts or even their plans—he was gone. Gone to track down where Cinder's dust was really going. Or back to Beacon, most likely.
Back to her-
No.
He really had to stop thinking about her for now. Until tomorrow, at least.
Let Mt. Weiss cool a little.
Besides, if he could take care of the White Fang, then... Would it be enough? Enough to-
Maybe it would be enough to not land him in a cell.
Or maybe even enough for her to dive after him when his ship finally sank.
"Brothers and sisters of the White Fang!"
Adam raised his sleeved arms, looming over the thick crowd of green-looking goons.
Nyx stood behind the rusted railing, just beside the bull faunus and the steep stairs. Fresh recruits then. Maybe the jobless and the oppressed pulled into a new life of terrorism. Or the sewer rats finally finding a way out of their hole. Probably not far off, considering the rat ears, tails, and whiskers on some of the men and women.
He yawned, his hot breath bouncing off his mask, his eyes half-shut as Adam droned on with his inspiring speech.
"For too long we've wallowed in despair, crushed under the iron boots of humankind. Look at us. Look at us! We crawl among the filth of our enemies—"
Nyx shrugged, parking his hands on the railing. The brown slime slid off his gloves. All masks stared at Adam. But some of them were probably shooting him a curious look or two. Fuck. Why did he have to follow Adam again?
"When the time comes, we'll walk among the humans as equals—"
Nyx rolled his eyes.
Right. Like that was going to happen. Not unless the Grimm disappeared or Remnant found another mass-energy propellant. One that did not need the SDC's mines. Or maybe even when people dropped their prejudices and saw what really mattered—the one fight for survival already in front of them.
But still, that was probably expecting too much from anyone.
"No! More than equals. We'll walk among them as kings!"
What?
No way he heard that one right.
"And why not? Can humans see in the dark?"
The crowd murmured, masks shifting in the darkness. Well, Adam had a point. Admittedly. But it was nothing a few night vision lenses or goggles could not solve.
"Can humans breathe underwater?"
The crowd chattered, this time even louder. But still, it was nothing a few oxygen tanks could not fix.
"Can humans fly? Spit acid? Change the colour of their skin?"
The crowd cheered, apparently in full agreement. Well, Adam had a point. Probably.
Were there a semblances for those?
"That's right. The humans are wrong to treat us as lesser beings. We are the future of Remnant! And soon we'll liberate our brothers and sisters. Then we'll pave the way to our destiny!"
Adam paused, the crowd clapping. Some of them spewed acid straight into the sewage—some from tails or mouths, others from their fingertips. The sewage bubbled, a greenish gas floating off the stream. Just right under him. His nose wrinkled, even with the protection of his half-mask.
Ugh.
Way to help the olfactory ambience.
Adam held up his hand, the crowd's voice shrinking into a whisper. "But now. A demonstration. On what happens to those who betray our cause."
The crowd parted. A retinue of goons dragged a squirming, brown-skinned woman by her freckled arms. Chains clinked with every step they took. A paper bag dotted with thin-holes concealed her face. They ripped it off, hurling the woman over the floor.
The woman thrashed, the chains on her arms and legs shaking, even as the muck clung to her neck. Splotches of purple covered her face, one of her eyes swollen black.
Half-shut.
"Let me go!"
Nex hummed. She looked familiar. Freckles, brown skin, the odd blend of green and yellow in her eyes...
"This traitor abandoned her comrades, leaving them at the mercy of Atlas. And the Schnee's city has none for us faunus!"
The crowd jeered, screaming at the faunus girl. Wads of green spittle splashed her face. She hissed. Her cheeks bubbled, the steam gnawing into her bruises.
"Ilia Amitola, you have broken the Fang's tenets. How do you plead?"
Huh.
Ilia.
Oh.
Who was it again?
Right. Hard-on Silverstain's partner. The one who failed to show. And this was apparently why. Ilia Amitola pulled a tactical retreat instead of sticking with her partner. Or even the rest of her captured brothers and sisters.
"You're insane," Ilia replied, her eyes bleeding red, just like her freckled cheeks. "Sienna won't stand for this, Taurus."
Adam clicked his tongue, crossing his arms over the railing. "Oh, but she will stand for our future. I just need to be a little more persuasive."
Persuasive, huh?
Maybe Ironwood should know about Adam and his plans of persuading Sienna.
"Enough! You've heard the traitor's last words!"
The crowd roared, drowning whatever words came from Ilia's mouth.
"And the Fang's punishment for treason is none other than death!"
Nyx rolled his eyes. Right. Death. It was so very we're an insane terrorist cell of them.
The crowd murmured, masks shifting among themselves.
"Who among you bears enough courage to wield justice's axe?"
No one stepped forward. The crowd whispered. All masks stared at Ilia, the faunus girl kneeling at the middle of the chamber.
Adam tapped the railing. "Is no one here willing to enforce the Fang's tenets? To pledge their loyalty to the Fang?"
And still, no one moved an inch. Nope. Evidently not. Probably because they were green recruits, and not hardened White Fang loyalists or something.
But still. There was that idea.
If he stepped forward. Killed the girl himself.
It would probably paint him as a model revolutionist to Commander Taurus.
Make his job easier. His goal more attainable. Cement him as trustworthy.
And give Ilia Amitola's death some meaning beyond just being Adam Taurus' publicity stunt.
Besides, she was going to die anyway. With or without his input. Might as well gain something from it.
For the safety and the security of the four kingdoms, right?
"I'll do it," Nyx muttered, turning to the bull. "Do you want it quick or painful?"
Adam nodded, a smirk slanting his lips. "Make it quick. Clean. We only need to wet the recruits. Not rob them of dinner."
Nyx chuckled. He sprang over the railing. His boots crashed into the slime, the squish stuck in his extra pair of ears. He drew Oathkeeper. The golden blade rasped against its scabbard, even as he stopped before Ilia.
"You're Adam's lapdog?" Ilia said, glaring at him.
"Nope," Nyx replied, shaking his head. "Just another guy doing what's necessary."
"You don't know what he's involved in," Ilia whispered, her eyes darting towards the bull. "They're insane. Crazy. That woman. Cinder. She's—"
"And your brother, the one known as Nightshade, has volunteered to exercise the Fang's justice!"
The crowd twitched, some of them cheering.
"Cinder?" Nyx mumbled, raising his mother's sword. "What about her?"
"Free me, Nightshade," Ilia said, her chains clinking. "I'll tell you everything I know."
And risk a fight against hundreds of recruits, as well as Taurus and probably more veterans of the White Fang?
Nyx sighed. If only it was in another place. Maybe even another time. "Sorry, Ilia. Just don't take this personally, okay?"
Oathkeeper slashed, the blade coated with blue light.
Ilia's head rolled away, trailing red over the muck.
The crowd murmured.
All masks stared at him.
Nyx killed the sigh in his throat, wiping Oathkeeper's blade off the faunus girl's shirt. Come to think of it, she did turn into a dead faunus then. He thrust Oathkeeper back in its sheathe. "And the Fang's justice is served."
Great.
Now he could add Nexecutioner to his list of titles.
Fuck. When the hell did he start thinking like Yang?
"And it's well that it is," Adam said, clapping his shoulder. "Good work, Nightshade. There'll be more of that once the revolution comes."
Nyx nodded, shrugging the hand off his shoulder, even as the bull smirked. "So, what's our next move?"
"Eager, aren't we?" Adam said, chuckling as he fell in stride, facing the crowd. "For now, you'll be organized into..."
Adam prattled on, a few dozen officers stepping forward and herding the recruits into lines. They shoved swords and rifles into the goons' hands, one of them almost shooting his foot off. Training, probably, even as some goons dragged Ilia's corpse and chucked her into the sewage. Definitely for the sewer rats or even stray Grimm to eat.
"Which line do I go to?" Nyx said.
His scroll buzzed against his thigh.
What? No way it was her, right?
"I don't think you need the training," Adam replied, shaking his head. "Just go to our watchman and ask for the supplies."
Nyx hummed, fingering his scroll. "Supplies?"
"Have you seen the situation topside?" Adam said. "Someone needs to hand out the essentials to our brothers and sisters." He cleared his throat. "Even those who don't want to join our cause."
Well, it made sense. Although it was a little bit mundane, it still needed to be done.
"Alright," Nyx said, nodding. "So, about what Ilia said..."
"What about her?" Adam asked.
Huh.
"She was just babbling, right?" Nyx said, chuckling. "About you being crazy and all."
"I'm gonna level with you, Nyx," Adam said, mask turned towards him. "Our goal is beyond the Fang's current capabilities. Which is why I made some new friends."
"Friends?" Nyx said. Odd. What was it about psychos, criminals, and being friendly?
"Humans," Adam said, practically spitting the word out.
"We're working with humans?" Nyx said, forcing a gasp.
Well, that did seem pretty crazy for an officer of the White Fang. And it was something Sienna Khan would probably stand against.
"Our goals are, shall we say, aligned," Adam said, clicking his tongue. "For now. As soon as that changes—"
"We'll stick it to them, right?" Nyx said. Huh. Maybe the bull was sharper than he seemed. "Good plan. Short. Simple. Easy to remember."
Adam nodded and grinned. "Be ready in seven days."
Nyx fingered Oathkeeper. "What's in seven days?"
"A mission," Adam said, back already turned. Probably watching the recruits. "The White Fang will liberate some of our brothers and sisters."
Nyx bobbed his head and spun on his heel. Whatever the mission was, his new employer had to know about it. He had to tell Ironwood, come back in a week, and probably liberate some faunus somewhere.
What could possibly go wrong?
Well, a lot.
But that was neither here nor there. He had more pressing matters to attend to.
His scroll buzzed. Again.
Nex heaved a sigh, going up the stairs and exiting the chamber. Whoever it was, they could wait. Especially if it was Weiss. Her calling him while he was effectively in the Valean slums—deep in de facto faunus territory—would have blown his cover and gotten him killed.
He traced the shadows, following the same path in the maze they took.
A blade flashed.
Oathkeeper left its sheathe, pressing into his assailant's stomach, even as they pushed him against the damp and cold wall, a dagger held to his throat.
"You killed her," she hissed. "Why?"
Nyx poked her stomach, Oathkeeper just one inch away from sinking into her jacket. "You know aura exists, right?"
She stilled, lowering her dagger. "Nex?"
Huh.
So that was why she sounded a little bit familiar.
The ghost-ninja sniffed the air.
A bone-white mask covered her eyes, just under a purple hood.
Well, just like him, but a different colour.
What the hell was Blake Belladonna doing in a White Fang recruitment drive?
Nyx shrugged, placing Oathkeeper back in its scabbard. "It's Nyx, actually. You must have me confused for someone else."
Blake scowled, sheathing the dagger on her thigh. "This is where you've been?"
Nyx rolled his eyes, even if the ghost-ninja could not see it. "What, so now I'm not allowed to be a freedom fighter? I wasn't aware there was a demographic, B."
"You killed my friend," Blake said, grabbing his arm. "You don't get to joke around."
Right. Because he was totally joking.
"Please. Let's not deny the psycho bull was the one hellbent on killing her," Nyx muttered. "Might as well gain something from it."
"And what could be so important," Blake whispered, her fingers tightening. "That you had to personally chop her neck off?"
"The safety and security of the four kingdoms," Nyx said. "That important enough for you?"
Blake's fingers loosened. "What?"
"I'm on the job. Atlesian undercover style," Nyx said, shrugging. "Besides, if Ilia was so important to you, why not rescue her yourself?"
Blake stiffened, her fingers curled tight around his arm as she looked away.
"Right," Nyx said, prying his arm from her hand. "Because Blake Belladonna ran away. Again."
Blake's mask stared at her boots. "You don't know my story."
"And you don't know mine," Nyx said, shuffling further into the path. They were probably halfway already. "Why are you even here?" He scoffed. "I thought you were done with the White Fang."
"I've thought about what you said," Blake muttered, her heartbeat right beside him. Her boots splashed over some sewage. "Apparently"—she chuckled—"I've thought about it a little too much."
"So what?" Nyx said, cracking his neck. His boots were already cold and wet from the damn muck. "You're going to fix the White Fang by running away?"
"I'm trying, alright?" Blake said, her eyes shimmering through the slits of her mask. "Confronting my past. It's not as easy as it looks."
Nyx shrugged. To be fair, she had a point.
"So... about you and Weiss..." Blake trailed off.
"What about her?" Nyx said, his jaw clenching. Fuck. He sounded a little bit like the psycho bull earlier.
"After I got fired, no thanks to you by the way—"
"You got fired?"
"Well, what did you expect?" Blake stumbled. She steadied herself with one hand against the wall. "What part of me not being allowed to accept tips did you not understand?"
Well, shit.
Maybe taking off the bow was not the best choice, after all.
"I take it no one's looking to hire a cat?" Nyx said, turning a left. "No furry maid cafes like in Ninjas of Love?"
Blake frowned. "That's racist, Nyx."
"Oh, like I'm not a faunus myself," Nyx said, waving at his extra pair of ears. "Maybe these ears on my head are just for show."
"Maybe they are," Blake whispered. "You're working to destroy the White Fang?"
Nyx shook his head, water dripping down his chin. He wiped it off with his sleeve. "Not a movie, B. Just here to watch the White Fang because of the Vytal Festival. Don't tell anyone."
"Not even Weiss?" Blake said.
"Especially not Weiss," Nyx said, chuckling. "She'd blow if she found out I just joined the great revolution."
"Just joined?" Blake said. Like she was rolling her tongue over something particularly incredulous.
Nyx nodded. "Well, yeah. Just now, actually. Received my official orders from Ironwood this morning."
"That's why then," Blake said, breathing a sigh.
"Why what?" Nyx asked.
"Weiss thinks you've been doing this double agent bit every time you went off Vale," Blake said, "and you've never trusted her—well, any of us enough to tell us."
Nex cupped his forehead, a groan escaping his lips. Fucking hell. She was half-right, even. Just a little off the mark on the double agent thing. It was a hacker slash underage thief thing instead. But still. "Did you really expect me to tell you? She'd blow. You'd blow. Ruby would yap to Yang and Yang to Nora and Nora to the whole fucking school."
"I can keep a secret," Blake said, gesturing at her extra pair of ears. "I'm pretty sure Weiss and Ruby can too." She coughed, shooting him a thin smile. Probably trying to be a teasing one. And failing. "Besides, being an Atlesian nark is definitely better than being an ex-terrorist."
Nyx groaned even more. Fuck. Now the Artificer was an anonymous thief masquerading as an Atlesian developer slash spy who just so happened to be a huntsman-in-training. To think he thought it only happened in the books or in the movies. Ugh. "Right. I'll, uh, keep that one in mind. Thanks, B."
They climbed the winding stairwell, the ghost-ninja matching his leisurely pace. He tugged on his hood, holding it tight against his scalp. His extra pair of ears flattened.
The watchman pried the door open, the man's green eyes darting towards him and then to the ghost-ninja.
"Hey, man," Nyx said. "Sorry about earlier. Must have been something I ate."
More like something he threw up—the bagels and coffee dead-fish on his tongue. Which he had to do something about later.
But still, he managed a smile.
The watchman chuckled. A short, clipped one. "I get that a lot, trust me." He reached into the dumpster behind him and pulled out two bags bulging with grocery-shaped lumps. "Here. The commander"—he tapped the radio clipped to his shoulder—"said you'll be needing these."
Right.
Nyx took the bags, carrying one in each hand. "So I just go around the place, pass the stuff out, then..."
"Come back every night and do the same," the watchman said, snorting. He pulled out a half-stick of cigarette and huffed on the poor thing. "You think everyone's lining up to be the commander's errand boy?"
The watchman chortled as he and the ghost-ninja strolled away.
"Great," Nyx muttered, rolling his eyes. But still, it was necessary. "Now what?"
"It's..." Blake took a bag and stuck her hand inside. "Good to see he still does this."
"Who?" Nyx asked, fingering his scroll as it buzzed. Again.
"No one," Blake said a little too quickly. She went ahead, knocking on a half-rotten door. "A guy who's now dead to me."
Nyx shrugged. If the guy was dead to the ghost-ninja, then far be it from him to dig up the corpse. "Alright then."
A dog-eared woman clad in dirt-stained tee and pants took a paper bag from the ghost-ninja, thanking her with a smile and some words of thanks.
The ghost-ninja went to another door. And another. Then another, practically going all over the block and probably the next. By the time she was done, droplets of sweat glimmered on her cheeks, her hair already messed up under her hood.
She took the other bag from him.
"Wait, hold-up," Nyx said, tugging at the bag before she could snatch it away. "I think I'm supposed to be the one doing this."
"Sorry," Blake said, fidgeting with the hem of her jacket. "Force of habit."
Nyx grinned. Habit, huh? His brain spat out a little inspiration. It would probably kill two birds with one stone. "You know, I could use a little help. You got fired, right?"
Blake frowned and shook her head. "Forget it."
"Come on," Nyx said, poking her arm. "Think of it as mercenary work."
"I don't think mercenaries hand out charity to faunus," Blake muttered.
Nyx shoved the bag into her hand. "They do now. The Ghost Ninja express, free delivery for faunus. Sponsored by yours truly." He spun into a flourish. "The enigmatic Nyx Nightshade." He cleared his throat. "Besides, I might need your help with some other stuff later."
Blake half-giggled, covering her mouth with one hand—the one not holding the bag. "The enigmatic Nyx Nightshade?"
Nyx shrugged, managing a smile. Even though there really was nothing funny about two faunus talking on the sidewalk at about nine in the evening. Or even about what he said. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing," Blake said, already turning left into another decrepit street. "Shouldn't we keep going then?"
The ghost ninja took one step, then stopped walking and sniffed the air.
"Something's not right," Blake muttered, her amber eyes darting to the graffitied walls, makeshift tents, and rundown shacks. She grabbed her dagger. "Keep a hand on that sword."
Pareidolia hummed, nudging the back of his skull. Apparently, the ghost-ninja smelled something his half-faunus nose could not pick up. But still, what exactly-
Blood.
A metric fuckton of it, trailing over grey concrete and creeping into an alley.
"This doesn't happen very often?" Nyx said as he followed the ghost-ninja, both of them sticking close to the wall. "It's the slums, right?"
To be fair, he had only ever been in Mantle and in Mistral. Maybe the slums worked a little different in Vale.
"Faunus here treat each other like family." Blake shook her head. "They don't fight among themselves."
Right. It was a little different then.
"By the gods," Blake whispered, covering her mouth. The bag in her hand fell and splashed into the mud. Her glowing eyes lingered on the end of the alley.
"Well, shit..." Nyx said, fingering his scroll as it kept vibrating. He stared at the corpse, its arms and legs bent. Twisted. Pareidolia shrunk into its cave. "First time, huh?"
Nailed to the wall, the fox-eared girl stared back with wide, bloodshot eyes. Her lips were contorted into an answer: a silent scream.
Fun Trivia: The dead fox-eared girl at the end of this chapter also appears in chapter two of Guardians of the Unknowing. Check it out on my profile if you're curious. It's also OC-centric, like all of my fics are.