Vale's air always had a smell and taste to it. Burnt dust from factories, mixed with the sea air from the harbour. Creating a unique scent that no other city on Remnant had. His hometown was smaller, with clean air and good people. Vale had little amounts of the former and even less of the latter.
He walks down the street, moving through the parting crowd of low-income workers going home. To them, it was just another day at work. A wanted man with a million Lien bounty on his head wasn't something they cared about, nor the guy next to them walking down the street, facial scars or not.
The average person in Vale might have it better than someone from Menagerie and much better than someone from Mantle. That didn't mean they didn't need his help. Corruption, murder, robbery and terrorism became part of everyday life in Vale. The rich keep the Huntsmen and Huntresses on a short leash to keep their pockets lined and their bellies fat. He gave up on being a hero once, not anymore. These people need him, and he would be damned if he lets them down.
Quickly ducking into an alley, he proceeds further down. Coming across a fire escape as he does so, the perfect way to reach where he was going. A quick climb later, he had what he wanted, a view of the White Fang's new base. To those that didn't know better, it was just another factory. Pumping out construction material for the numerous projects that required said material in Vale.
But he knew better. Slipping into his long coat, he pulls out his visor. If he is seen now, well, all bets were off. A few hundred hours of news time and a comparable number of wanted posters had him with this mask on. It makes work like this easy. No one recognizes you if they have never seen your face. His tactical visor was a defining feature. Didn't help that he could barely see without it.
Sliding it on, he uses the visor's built-in zoom to get a closer look. It wasn't that hard to find, a large number of Faunus employees. Low accepted contracts but a massive amount of resources moved in and out. A front, the White Fang makes some legitimate money on the side while using it to produce weaponry and armour for its soldiers.
Switching to infrared view, he counts on-hand guards. Sixteen in total, at least double that in workers. Not a bad number, they could hold off a Valean police assault with those numbers. But he wasn't Vale's "Finest" in uniform. Unlike them, he knows exactly where and more importantly, how to hit them.
Snapping off a few photos with the built-in camera, he moves back towards the fire escape. Recon is done, now it's time to plan for the assault. He comes out of the alley, stepping forward towards the road and hails a cab. One slows down and pulls to a stop.
"Where to?" Questions the Cabbie.
"Cannae street." He replies. "Fastest route you can find."
He sets down in a small cafe at the corner of Cannae. The owner and staff don't ask questions. It helps that they make a mean cup of coffee. Today it was full, meaning he was going to have to be discreet. Random people are too curious for their own good.
He pulls out an old model scroll. Rugged and reliable, new tech might run faster, but it breaks easier. Rugged and reliable eh? It sounds like me. A barista sets his coffee down on the table, a Vacuo blend, rich and dark. He gives her a small smile in response, drawing a blush to her pale cheeks.
He types a quick command to link the scroll to his visor. Uploading the pictures he took, he starts to identify entrances, possible chokepoints and, if necessary, ways to bring the building down. He's been hunting down White Fang bases across Vale trying to bring the organization down. Not even two weeks ago he helped defend a Valean Police station against a full assault. Walking away with more than a few bullet holes and bruises.
"Excuse me?" He's evaluating her as a threat before she even finishes speaking. Straight-back, lean-muscle, it would be hidden by her clothing, but he knows how to spot that. Without even realising it, she's settled into a combat stance. The most defining feature is the long, flowing white hair, specifically, the hair colour of the Schnee family.
"Yes?" He'll never get used to the rasp and baritone his voice now has. Just another bit of damage from survival.
"I'm hoping for a place to sit." She answers, hair swaying as she cocks her hip. "Your table is the only one with free seats."
Sure enough, she was telling the truth. Every other table was full. If he turns her away, it might cause a scene. If he doesn't, his ability to plan here is in jeopardy. If he is right about who she is related to, it's a chance for information gathering. "It's all yours."
"Thank you," She inclines her head in thanks, sending her hair over her shoulder. "My name is Winter Schnee."
"Jack Morrison." He supplies curtly, he knows her type. If he offends her, she'll supply him info without even realising it in her anger. Her fight with Qrow all those years ago provided that.
Winter hikes an eyebrow in response. "A non-colour name, not exactly common."
"Family was old fashion." He provides, and Jack Morrison's fake family was. She could dig using her Atlas contacts and technology, his ID is good. Too good for anyone but the best to find out it's fake.
"Were you a huntsman?" Winter inquires, she looking for small talk it seems. Eyes flicking to his facial scars tell him why she asked that question, he can understand why. Most people don't get his scars without being one, nor do they survive them without Aura.
"No, I was a member of my town's Militia." He closes his eyes to sell the lie, presenting the idea of a man mourning some long-forgotten part of his past. "We were defending against a Grimm attack. I got hit, it left me with these."
The best lies are the ones based on truth. His scars are from defending against a Grimm attack. Except it wasn't a Grimm that gave him these scars, as he was implying to Winter.
"I'm sorry." Winter bows her head, a high-class apology if he's ever seen one. He supposes that's all she has ever known. Atlesian high-class society and its officer corps, a perfect environment to develop down-to-earth social skills.
"It's... in the past." The pause was deliberate. It falsely implies it isn't in the past, and guilty trips her for mentioning it. By doing so, it will hopefully lower her guard because of the guilty. It gives him an angle to gain information. He mentally laughs, if his old team could see that awkward Jaune Arc had become a master manipulator. Well, they would probably be surprised he was alive in the first place.
This is all a part of his job now, espionage, hacking, manipulation, emotional or otherwise. It's a dirty world with cracks, and Salem uses those cracks to create opportunity. He might have "died" stopping her last time, but that attack was a failure on Ozpin and his group. He aims to prevent another attack. Starting by removing the White Fang from play. After that, it's onto Salem's attack dogs.
"My question is, what's a Schnee heiress turned Atlas Specialist doing in a small Valean cafe?" The question was two-fold. He was legitimately curious and needed to know if Atlas was attempting to apprehend him in Vale.
"Would you believe me if I told you that someone recommended it to me?" Winter asks in response with a ghost of a smile. It wouldn't be surprising if it was. Staff that don't ask questions is godsent to people like him and her.
"Not at all," He replies. "They probably recommended it for the same reason I come here. The staff doesn't ask questions."
She huffs a laugh. It was so much like Weiss's that it caught him off guard. Besides a slight widening of the eyes, he doubts he gave anything away. That was enough for Winter thought.
"What?" She asks with a coy tone. Catching him off-guard again, if he didn't know better, he'd swear she is flirting with him. "Didn't expect a Schnee to know how to laugh?"
He recovers quickly and replies "More the shock that a Schnee laughed something I said and not at me."
"Hmm, well perhaps I am different from what you have read about me." Winter retorts, narrowing her eyes at him.
"My mother always did teach me not to judge a book by its cover." He says softly in response. Another truth, this time without a manipulation behind it, he thinks, if he would have met Winter Schnee in a different life they would have been good friends.
"That is a lesson my family could have done with being taught." She replies, her voice almost a whisper. As she does so, she seems to perk up and starts to speak. "You know my profession, but haven't delighted me by sharing your own."
"I work as a security consultant." He answers, which is true. Jack Morrison works as an independent security consultant. The perfect way to gather info on the untouchables of Vale. Get brought in as a security consultant, find flaws in the defences and point them out. After doing so, appear in the area as 76 to get caught on camera scouting out the place. Therefore, preventing Jack Morrison and 76 from being linked. Then strike during the period they are making the changes. Weaker security overall, and it gets him Lien for further operations. He passes the information he finds on their crimes to the Valean police. "Independent, quite the high demand these days."
"Because of Vale's resident vigilante, I assume?" Winter questions with a frosty tone all Weiss in nature. "Then I apologize in advance, Mr Morrison, Atlas will be cutting into that demand very soon."
That sends warning bells ringing in his head. If Atlas is truly deploying Winter and other assets to deal with him. His subsequent operations just got much more dangerous.
"Not an issue Miss Schnee." He responds, Beacon also might involve themselves. After the Battle for Vale and Beacon's key role in saving the city during the Valean Crisis. He doubts the council will allow Atlas free reign without some supervision inside of the kingdom's borders. "I just hope Atlas can handle the mess they are going to make by taking him out."
"Why do you say that Mr Morrison?" She questions him again. Her tone was not as frosty. He detects a slight hint of... curiosity in it also.
"Soldier 76 has been taking down White Fang bases, operations, and members for months." He begins. "He has also been taking down regular criminals and gangs during that time. On top of releasing criminalizing evidence against multiple Valean citizens."
"Go on." She replies, cocking her head in interest.
"If you remove him from play, the forces he has been taking down will have time to breathe unless Atlas steps in." He continues, hopefully by making this argument to someone important in the Atlas military when they do come to blows. He might be able to talk his way out. "Which unlike Soldier 76, you require permission from the Valean council, permits, search warrants and other legal devices before you can."
"Are you suggesting we let him be?" She questions and shock is written across her face. "After the crimes, he has committed?"
"I'm suggesting you come to an understanding with him." He replies carefully. He knows what he states next will not only affect Jack Morrison's relationship with Winter Schnee but Soldier 76's relationship with the Atlas military. "The Valean police let him handle the things they legally can't. In return, he helps when they need it."
She opens her mouth to speak, but the ringing of a scroll interrupts her. "Specialist Schnee speaking. Yes sir. I'm on my way sir.
"I must apologize." She states. She looks genuinely remorseful. Perhaps it is refreshing to talk with someone not trying to such up because of her rank or name. "I would like to continue this talk another time. If that is possible?"
He sets his lips into a line. Doing this might allow him to gain more information, and he would be lying if Winter Schnee didn't interest him. "Here's my number."
Her heeled boots click as she walks away, once again leaving him alone at his table, with his now cold coffee, a waste of perfectly good beans. But with Winter gone, he could finish planning his assault. A frontal one is suicidal, which means his best chance would be to attack from above. A breaching charge through the roof, it would gain him the element of surprise. He'll have about fifteen minutes to raid the facility for dust and materials. There is probably some poetic irony in his campaign relying on stealing the White Fang's resources.
The few contacts he trusts prefer dust over cash. Without them, he would be forced to rely on only Aura. Can't keep replacing his jacket's ballistic weave without a source. Hopefully, this operation goes smoothly. Grabbing his coffee cup, he downs it in one go. Swiftly leaving, not before tipping the barista two Lien.
It was night by the time 76 sets out. Sticking to shadow as he jumps from roof to roof. Its times like these he is thankful for the SEP. The "Soldier Enhancement Program", it was started by Atlas as a way to improve their regular troops. Each kingdom picked a group of Huntsmen and Huntresses to send as the last twenty-five candidates. Ozpin picked him, the procedure focused on modifying the body. Strength, speed, and agility were all improved. He noticed over the years he would heal faster. Combining that with his massive Aura pool help him become one of Vale's best.
Now's not the time to get caught up in the past, however. A single leap lands him on top of the factory's roof with the grace of a panther. A sweep of his visor finds the perfect stop to plant his breaching charge. It is one of his easier ops, a textbook breach and clear.
He moves back till his back meets concrete. A press of his scroll sets the charge off, and he charges. He braces before the fall, rolling to absorb the blow. His opponents weren't prepared for that type of entrance. Disorientation grips them. A charge like that was hell to a Faunus sense. Exactly what he was counting on.
His pulse rifle finds its mark before a single one of them can get to their feet. Round after round spits out, hitting the armed workers without pause. Six were down before he even reloads. He inserts a fresh charge without a single waste of movement, this was his element. He could smell the blood in the air. The first round must have shattered one of their Aura, leading the second to put them down, hopefully permanently.
One tries to catch him from behind. Too bad that his hearing is also improved by the SEP. He grasps the sloppy punch, throwing the guard over his shoulder and into the ground. A sharp blow from the butt of his rifle keeps her there. His visor outlines each of them, and a group of eight finally regains their bearings. An assortment of weapons finds their way towards him. He dives towards a crate, rounds burying their way into it. He can't stay here. Their weaponry will tear it apart in seconds.
He primes the rifle's helix rockets. Those rockets are to give infantrymen superior firepower in situations like these, and they perform perfectly. Peaking out of his dwindling cover, he takes aim. A slight squeeze of the trigger sends the rocket roaring out. As it flies, one becomes three and the White Fang squad finds itself caught in an explosion meant for armour vehicles.
Fifteen of them within the first two minutes. Not his best but most certainly not his worst. Without Aura, every single one of them would be dead, but even the lowest Fang members have it unlocked. That means he doesn't have to hold back. Still, that means some of them will live. A few dead terrorists by his hands isn't something that will keep him up at night.
If fifteen down, thirty-three were all that remains. Those numbers were barely a threat to someone still in a combat school. Let alone a former huntsman like himself. There are only two doors into this room, he has already planned for this. A wad of explosives finds itself in his hands. He tosses it towards the farthest door. It's set to a switch, one that is in his hands.
The White Fang might be able to stay ahead of Atlas and sometimes outsmart them, but he wasn't Atlas. The average grunt wasn't much of a threat. He had handled most of Vale's elites over the last few months. Taurus and his lieutenant have gone to ground. He'll be dragging them out eventually.
Right now wasn't exactly a time to ponder his future. He pats down the female guard he had knocked unconscious earlier, drawing her scroll from a pocket. He dials 911, the operator picks up within the first two beeps. "Valean police department, what is the nature of your emergency?"
"White Fang front operation," He growls into the receiver. "49th industrial section, factory 618-B."
He doesn't wait for a response, hanging up the call with a slide of his fingers. A stairwell catches his attention, it leads to what seems to be an office. Amateurs he scoffs mentally. It shows that the White Fang doesn't even train their regulars in asset denial. Before he can move towards the office, the rigged door swings open. He doesn't even blink, pulling the detonator's trigger within a second.
The resulting fireball roars into the rest of the building, sending rocks flying across the main room. He ducks as a piece flies towards his head, kicking off into a sprint as he does so. That office will have information, White Fang plans, base locations, business partners, and perhaps even supporters. Remnant might be a racist place, but a few Faunus have climbed up into the one percent.
Stacking up on the door, he settles into a breaching style taught to him in the HEP. A swift kick sends the door off its hinges. He enters, raising his pulse rifle to scan the room for threats. Nothing, not even a hidden explosive it's almost disappointing. Yet it makes his life easier. He spots the old computer terminal, drawing a universal adapter, intent on gaining access. He plugs his scroll into the computer, promptly running a password-decoding program. Ten minutes left, he still needs to secure some dust, but this info was more significant.
Thirty seconds later the password is cracked. A few keystrokes later, he is downloading everything. White Fang's cybersecurity is worse than Atlas', which doesn't say much for the kingdom's expertise either. Hopefully, this data can lead him to Taurus. He takes him out. The Valean branches' operations will crumble.
A quiet beep signifies the end of the downloading. Giving eight minutes left for him to secure any dust he finds. Sloppy movement alerts him to their sorry attempt at an ambush. He ducks under the window, seconds before the rounds tear through it. A peak allows his visor to give him numbers. Twenty targets that he can spot, meaning his explosive took out at least ten.
Reloading his pulse rifle, he dashes for the door. Bullets fly through the air, their attempts to bring him down. A combat roll puts him out the door, and he grasps the railing, heaving himself over. Twenty-two targets are in his sights. It gives his visors auto-targeting a field day.
His visor comes with several features. Night vision, infrared vision, and a built-in camera, not to mention it operates as an aide for his sight. The best one of all is its auto-targeting. Within seconds, it will calculate wind resistance, bullet drop, possible target movements, along with anything else that could affect a shot.
Twenty-two shots rang out from his pulse rifle, every single round finding the perfect mark, bringing down the remaining guards. His feet hit the ground with an audible *thunk*. He moves towards a group of crates, ripping the lid off each of them. Filling them is exactly what he is looking for, dust. Uncut, and powder alike fill each crate. Exactly what he needs to finance his mission.
He removes a folded bag from his jacket, opening it with a flick of his wrists. He places as much as he can from each crate. His contracts have a preference for uncut dust, so that is his main target. Based on the weight of the bag and the quality of the dust, this will keep him going for the next month and a half.
He hears the sirens going off in the distance. Good, the police took his tip seriously. However, that means he is out of time. Marching towards the new door his explosives created, Soldier 76 slips off into the night.
Or at least that's what he would have done. A sniper shot almost taking his head off made that unlikely. Knowing Atlas is in town, he would have assumed it's one of theirs, except for one fact. Only one gun in Vale has that distinct sound, Crescent Rose.
"Son of a bitch." He curses to himself. Ironwood must have strong-armed Ozpin into sending RWBY after him. Which, in turn, means a four-on-one against some of the best huntresses in Vale. Well, let it never be said he didn't meet challenges head-on.
A hand falls towards his belt, grabbing a round object which he slides into his pulse rifle's lower barrel. A new set of helix rockets, he is going to need them in the coming fight. Yang might be able to take a beating, but Weiss is RWBYs heavy hitter. Her summoning will be a major obstacle. Which requires an equalizer, the rockets will be that equalizer.
Knowing Ruby, she will have Blake and Yang move in close, hoping to draw or flush him out. Then Weiss will pin him in place with combining attacks from herself and Ruby. If he avoids, Yang will engage in a move to overpower him. If that doesn't work, Weiss will summon, and while he is distracted with that Ruby will close in. After that, they'll engage together, bringing him down with combined attacks. It would work if they were facing anyone else that is.
He knows how they think, how they fight and most importantly, how to get them off-balance. He moves towards one of the factory windows, reloading his pulse rifle with a charge as he ducks under the window seal. A hand slamming into the window shatters it into dozens of chunks. Ruby might be the fastest person he knew with her semblance active but in reaction time? That title belonged to Pyrrha which forced him, by sheer necessity, to be as fast. He is doubtful that has changed in two years.
Well, time to put it to the test. With that thought, he shoulders his rifle, and unleashes hell, signalling the start of the battle. Blake is fast enough to dodge the fury of rounds he sent her way, Yang, however? She isn't so lucky. Twelve plasma-charged rounds hit her Aura with a show of sparks. A sliding of his hands set a new charge into the rifle's awaiting chamber.
He hears the fireball before he sees it. Good, old Weiss, she'll weaken you with dust before moving in for the kill. He isn't going to give her the satisfaction, though. A roll makes it miss him by barely an inch, except that trail of flames left in its wake leads him straight to her. He exhales, at the same time sending a burst of rounds downrange. A sniper round slams into his chest, throwing him to the ground, giving RWBY the illusion that their plan is working.
Now it's time to draw in the hook. He moves back, grabbing a handful of dust crystals as he does so. Time to even the odds a bit. He muses, heaving the crystals toward the entrance, they mix in with the fallen rock, laying a trap for whoever enters first.
He hides behind a pillar, rifle aiming at one of the crystals, ready to set them off with a squeeze of the trigger. A black blur moves in, 76 squeezes and blinks, the dust going up in flames. Blake goes flying towards the right, her Aura shattering as she slams into the wall.
"Blake!" Yang howls with rage, good. Step one is complete. Now it's on to step two. Besides damaging her hair, only hurting Blake or Ruby gets Yang angry, and he just sent Blake flying into a wall. Now, those that know Yang all agree it's a bad idea to get her angry. She loses all control, falling into a state where she destroys anything she views as a threat. But like all berserkers, her loss of control is her greatest weakness. No longer is she a critical thinker but a raging bull, which he will use to pick her apart.
She rushes him, and round after round hit her, in typical Yang fashion, they don't phase her. Two shotgun blasts ring out towards him. A tilt of his body has the first sail past him, but the second clips him in the shoulder. His rifle is useless with how close Yang is, he slides it onto his back. This has become a close-quarters combat fight, putting him at a disadvantage.
Her first punch heads towards his chest, he sidesteps, grasping her outstretched arm with his hand. He is hoping to use her moment to perform a leg sweep, but Yang throws a fist-sized wrench in his plans. A swift gut punch by her other fist sends him reeling, the shotgun blast from Ember Celica sounding in the night. Before she can use this advantage to throw him onto the ground, he draws his combat knife and stabs her midsection.
It connects, he then slices upwards, and a quick backhand strike ends that. It knocks him back, stumbling. Yang takes advantage, a punch to his chest Ember Celica blast hitting him squarely. Then a right hook, following it is a left. He ducks, the swing going wide, blast hitting the wall. A tackle is his follow-up, sending them both to the ground. His rifle goes fly off somewhere.
He jabs her face, sending her head back into the concrete floor. She responds with a vicious headbutt. He falls back, both of them scramble to their feet, setting them right back to the beginning of this fight. Yang growls, sounding more like a Grimm than a human being. Her arms snap up, blast after blast coming soaring towards him. He brings his arms together, channelling his Aura into them and charges.
His Aura glows brightly as each round hits him. The flames of the blast are dancing in the corner of his eyes. He is within striking distance now, a kick to Yang's right knee is his first move. Continuing it is a knee to her gut, following it a palm strike to the chest, knocking her down. She moves to get up, and a drawn pistol is his answer. He fans the trigger, round after round nails her before long, it's empty. Her Aura is crackling at this point, virtually gone. A swift boot to the face breaks it and knocks her out.
"Ugh." He snarls, as an ice shard rams into his back. Knocking him to the ground, he rolls with the fall, allowing him to land on his feet. He rushes for his knife, against Ruby and Weiss he'll need the blade. He spots his rifle nearby and sprints for it. He looks over his shoulder, both Ruby and Weiss are aiming, rounds and dust fly towards him. He breaks into a leg slide to evade, their attacks sailing over him. As he slides, he racks a new magazine in his pistol.
Another round from Ruby clips his shoulder as his slide stops, his hands grasp the Heavy pulse rifle like a lifeline. He rolls onto his back and fires. Ruby dodges with her semblance, and Weiss throws up a glyph to take the shots. Another glyph appears behind her, and her white knight comes out.
The summoned Arma Gigas readies its blade. Weiss had revealed her trump card, it is time for him to reveal his. The three helix rockets race out of the under-barrel launcher. They hit the Gigas with a resounding explosion. He could feel the heat from where he is. 76 swiftly chambers a new charge and sprays into the Gigas, overwhelming firepower drops it within seconds.
He scrambles to his feet, diving behind one of the crates. Temporary cover from their attacks. Giving him just enough time to reload, a resounding boom echoes in the room. He rolls, and Crescent Rose slices into where he was. Ruby draws her weapon close with a flourish, the muzzle pointing at him. The round misses his head by centimetres. His own barrel snaps up, sending shots downrange as he holds the trigger. Ruby dips and dives out of their way, closing the distance, and he is dry. Crescent Rose sings as she swings, he draws his knife and parries the strike. Sparks fly as the blades meet. He moves, his legs shifting, and he stops resisting.
Ruby falls past him, her strength propelling her forward from their wrestling match. He slices her back, Weiss's heels click behind him. He reacts without thinking, the inside of his knife meets Myrtenaster. He shoves the blade down, leaving Wiess open. A vicious right hook is his response to this opening. It sends her to the ground, spinning on his heel, he counters Ruby's next blow with a slide of his knife.
He grasps the knife with both hands, releasing one and shifting his weight. His body arcs so that he can reach for his pistol. Grabbing it, he draws it with a flash. The metal slugs slamming into Ruby's chest, he hooks his foot on her legs and pulls, bringing her to the ground with a leg sweep. He sheaths his knife and holsters his pistol. A new charge for the pulse rifle and a reload of his rockets is the next move.
Weiss has gotten to her feet by then. He aims and fires. She attempts to raise a glyph as a counter. His rockets make short work of it. The fireball sends her flying back, and he spins on his heel. If he doesn't put distance between himself and RWBY, this is his fight to lose.
Rose petals fly beside him, and a sharp kick from them sends him flying. He rolls before he slams into the ground, allowing him to land on his feet, rifle at the ready. Enough of this, he thinks to himself. He activates his tactical visor and takes aim at his target. If Ruby wants to dodge, he'll make sure she can't. The visor locks on with a *beep*, a pull of the trigger has the first shot hitting her dead on. Following it with the same uncanny aim is every round he fires after it.
Weiss comes around the corner, rushing towards him, intending to skewer him like a pig. He shifts his aim, staring down his iron sights as he fires at Myrtenaster. The rapier flew out of her hand as the rounds impacted. Ruby flies at him, Crescent Rose ready to cut him in half. He jumps back, Crescent Rose embedding itself into the ground.
Holstering his pulse rifle, he draws his knife and moves in. Ruby rips Crescent Rose out of the ground. Swing the scythe towards him with a flick of her wrists. It slices his stomach, he replies with a slash across her arm. She twists the weapon in her hands, bashing his leg with the end of Crescent Rose. He takes the blow, using it as a chance to land a blow. The strike hits her chest, and she launches back. She uses her movement to trip him with the scythe's blade.
He falls with the momentum, redirecting the fall, letting him land on his hands. Pushing forward, he flips himself back onto his feet. He draws his pistol and fires. The rounds slam into Ruby, her Aura might be absorbing them, but he knows her Aura is running low. He continues pressing, jabbing Ruby's arm with his knife, the flash of her Aura signalling the hit.
A flash appears in his eyes. Ruby spins the blade in another strike. He moves under it and grips Crescent Rose's shaft and yanks. The scythe flies off into the distance, and he seizes his advantage.
He channels his Aura into his arms, sending a punch to Ruby's stomach, then a right, a left, and a kick to her right knee. She responds with a jab towards his throat. He grasps the arm, slipping his own under her shoulder and pushes.
The sickling crack mixes with Ruby's scream, her Aura shattering from the pressure to prevent the injury. He takes no joy in harming her this way. They were friends once when Jaune Arc still lived and not Soldier 76.
"Ruby!" The scream echoes from his left, the clicking of heels too as Weiss runs towards him. He moves, rushing at some piping. He grasps it and pulls. Ripping a section off, just in time to counter a strike from Myrtenaster. Now he has his own sword, placing them on even footing. He swings, and Weiss catches the pipe with the tip of the rapier.
He lashes out with his knife, intent on hitting her arm. She jumps back, dogging the strike. He moves forward, bringing the pipe down in a falling strike. He used that move on her back in Beacon, during their spars. She slides to the left. With a twist of his wrist, the tip of the pipe hits her in the chest.
She absorbs the blow, responding with a barrage of dust. Fireballs and ice shards fly towards him. However, he cannot duck in time, which allows a fireball to catch him in the chest. He slides back, stopping himself by digging the pipe into the floor.
Weiss sprints at him, and Glyphs appear under her feet. Each one increased her speed. He will have to time this exactly right. A flash of Myrtenaster is all he needs, and his knife and pipe move as one. They intercept the rapier just in time, allowing him to bring the knife down on Weiss's wrist.
Weiss moves back and starts to strike. They fall into a rhythm, strike parry, block and strike. Both of their Auras are running low. Weiss sparingly uses glyphs but lashes out with dust constantly. He ducks the projectiles or knocks them out of the air.
Neither of them gains an advantage, but slowly he whittles her down. His superior endurance and Aura pool allowed him to take hits to lower Weiss's Aura even further. She knows this, which is why she attempts to end their battle with a summoning glyph.
He hurls the pipe at her like a spear. It sails through the air at breathtaking speeds, before a glyph appears, taking the blow for her. He draws his rifle, reloading both the charge and his rockets. He sprints forward, the glow around Weiss becoming ever more prominent.
He aims, firing the rifle as he charges. Each round bounces off the Glyph, but it grows dimmer. Each shot is weakening the barrier between them. He reloads the charge again and keeps fire. It runs empty, but he is close. He fires the helix rockets at the Glyph. Each one soars forward, blue thrusters carrying them through the air.
The resulting fireball shatters the Glyph, but he doesn't stop. Rushing through the flames and smoke, he jumps at Weiss. Her eyes widen when she sees him. She attempts to move back, yet he slams into her, rifle butt hitting her head. She reels back, and he hits her again, this time in the stomach. Sending her to the floor, he draws his pistol, reloading it swiftly.
"Tell Ironwood and Ozpin I'll handle the Fang." He growls out, if they think he will be deterred so easily then they are sorely mistaken. "If they continue to send Huntsmen and Huntresses against me. A broken shoulder will be the lightest injury."
He fires the pistol twice, shattering Weiss Aura and sending a punch towards her face. It hits, knocking her out cold. He looks around, each member of team RWBY sprawled somewhere in the factory. Sirens sound in the distance, the Valean police finally closing in.
He takes one final look at his old friends and walks towards the destroyed entrance, finally slipping off into the night.
Welcome to Old Soldier, my newest work and a Christmas gift to all those that followed me. I hope you enjoyed what you read and reviews, as always, are welcome, along with any criticisms.
Have a wonderful holiday
Arion Spartan