Bared Fangs
Unknown time
Unknown location
Winter sat on top of an armoured carrier, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from her finger. Her hands trembled, but the sun has already peaked out from the horizon. It warmed her back, and defrosted her boots. The mountains were majestic, and if there was anything she didn't get tired of seeing, it was the beauty of nature in these quiet moments.
She was happy. Happy that she was home at last, with Qrow at her side. Winter frowned. Home…where is home? Where was she?
She felt the weight of strong arms around her body, the familiar scent of whiskey in her nose and the warmness of the thick blankets. She was home, at the Schnee manor, and not wherever this is.
But, there was nothing to fear.
Weiss slid in beside Winter. Her little sister rested her head on her shoulder; Winter tossed away the wretched cigarette and drew her into a hug. How she loved her so.
Odd, that Weiss was here with her in the mountains…or was it home?
Weiss says something, but the wind drowned out her soft words.
"What is it, Weiss?"
"They are waiting for you, Winter," she said, as she pointed behind.
Winter didn't turn around, but somehow she knew what was there. Hellfire raged behind her. Soldiers clambered up through the snow, shooting and suppressing the unseen enemy. More figures rose out of the snow, their hands gripped tightly around their rifles and they lumbered forward, into the tracer rounds that lit up the mountainside.
Winter can't hear the sounds of war. It was silent, muted.
"I don't want to leave you, Weiss," Winter said.
"But you can't stay,"
"Why is that?" Suddenly, Winter was terrified. She knew the answer. She gripped Weiss tightly, unwilling to let her go from her chest, "Please, Weiss. Just let me stay. I miss you so, so, much."
"I'm dead, Winter," Weiss said, her voice muffled within her chest, "you can't stay here."
The silence shatters with a piercing gunshot. Winter fell forwards, stumbling and falling like a new born, like her limbs felt like they were made of lead.
She was in the thick of it. The ear splitting roar of battle raged around her. Gunfire, screams, explosions. Winter searched frantically for a weapon, but there was nothing.
Weiss.
Weiss was in front of her. Blood soaked her white dress. She reached her hands out, grasping as if for comfort, for salvation. Winter tried to grab her, to save her.
A bright lance of light pierced through her skull.
Weiss swayed, a blossom of blood haloing her head. She looked almost divine. Like an angel. A fallen angel. Then, she hit the floor, dead.
0300
Schnee Manor, Atlas
Winter jolted awake.
Her bed was soaking wet, and she was shaking.
Her soul, it felt empty and numb. Winter feels nothing, like she was in the void floating and helpless.
Tears ran down her cheeks, but she didn't dare bawl. She bit into the corners of her pillow as she stifled a sob.
The light snoring of Qrow barely registered beside her.
Winter crushed her emotions with an iron fist, and she turned her silent sobs into a snarl of anger. Too many times did she have the same dream, and too many times she had to suffocate the weakness bubbling up from inside her.
Winter wiggled slowly out from under Qrow's arms, not wanting to wake him. She checked her scroll. 0300 hours. It will be sunrise in a few hours.
Short days, long nights. She hated the dark.
Something was tugging in the back of her mind, and Winter knew it wasn't the dream.
Snatching her sidearm, one of the intricate revolver that once belonged to General Ironwood –Due Process-, she stalked out into the hall.
It was late at night. No one else should be around the house, save for a few staff members. But why was she on edge?
A distant sound echoed, so soft and muffled Winter had almost thought it was a figment of her imagination. She edged downstairs, gun braced.
The sound was coming from the kitchen. Movement. Winter ghosted in, gun first. The marbled floors were numbingly cold against her feet. The kitchen was empty, and the smell of dinner still lingered in the air.
The sound again, coming from the inner pantry.
Winter burst in, surprise speed and violence of an Atlas Legionnaire on full display.
Whitley yelped out in surprise and, to his credit, didn't drop the tray of leftovers he had been gorging on.
"By the Brothers above!" Whitley wailed, his exoskeleton screeching in protest, "Don't do that!"
Winter dropped her aim. All the tension in her body bled away in that instant. She tried to stifle a laugh of relief, but failed. She laughed, unrestrained and full-blown, the sound of it echoing through the kitchen and into the night.
"Wh-what are you doing?" Winter wheezed, "I thought..I had thought…." She couldn't continue, and just continued to laugh.
"I fancied a midnight snack," Whitley flushed, his cheeks red from being discovered, "I don't have a figure to keep!"
There was another presence in the room. Another, foreign entity. Winter spun around, pistol raised.
Ilia materialized out of the shadows, her arms raised in surrender. Lightning Lash hung loosely on her hips.
"I heard a noise," Ilia explained. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and she was averting her gaze.
Suddenly, Winter realized how extremely underdressed she was.
"I-I'll take my leave." Ilia spun on her heels, and vanished into the darkness.
Winter looked at Whitley, and he shrugged.
"I see she is taking wonderfully to the security position."
"Like you would not believe," Whitley nodded. He paused, cocking his head. "Since you are up, tea?" Whitley offered.
Winter nodded, "I'll go put on some pants."
"Another bad dream?" Whitley asked as he poured Winter a cup of freshly brewed tea.
"Yeah," Winter said, "I get them every now and then. More often at home." she trailed off. She sipped the steaming hot cup of tea.
It was exquisite.
"Hmmm," Whitley nodded, "I get them too sometimes. But I don't get up with a loaded gun, Win."
Winter chuckled, "You know how it is, Whitley."
"I do, and I worry for you," Whitley admitted. He paused, hesitating. "Was it about…about Weiss?"
Winter nodded silently, "I saw her. I don't remember much of the details, but I saw her," Winter ran her palm across her face, "I miss her."
"I miss her too, Winter," Whitley whispered, "it hurts every time I think about her. The years I wasted thinking that she hated me. That you hated me." He looked up at Winter, his eyes were red, and shimmering with tears, "Then I remember the days before you left for the military. How close we were then. I didn't know why I ever thought-"
He wiped his eyes, and sniffled.
Winter smiled bitterly, "I'm sorry Whitley, for leaving you. Every day when I saw you becoming more and more like father, I just couldn't face you at all," She sighed, "It was foolish of me. I never hated you, I loved you both so much it just hurt to see you become like him."
"You could have told me."
"Would you have listened?"
Whitley scoffed before admitting, "Probably, not."
They chuckled quietly.
The clock ticked loudly in the background as the Atlas wind howled and rattled the windows.
"I wish Weiss was here," Whitley said, "just to sit down with us and have a cup of tea. We never did have the chance."
Winter smiled as she recalled the time she visited Weiss at Beacon, "Last time I had tea with Weiss, I tried to teach her how to summon."
"She didn't already know how to?"
"No," Winter leaned forward, "she never really could manifest that particular part of her semblance properly."
"She always seemed to perfect, so talented," Whitley leaned in, his eyes glinting. It occurred to Winter he didn't know a whole lot about Weiss's ability as a Huntress.
"Not always," Winter chuckled. She continued, regaling him with stories on how she trained Weiss. From her first steps to summoning a glyph, to eventually moulding her semblance to better suit her style of combat, to the trials and errors Weiss encountered.
Her brother listened, entranced. For those fleeting moments, they could almost see their dear sister as she struggled to hone her craft, as she overcame her fears, as she fought her way to freedom. Those little moments of frustration, when Weiss would stamp her feet and try again. The little bouts of victory where she would hop and squeal in delight before returning to her proper form.
For those fleeting moments, it was almost as if Weiss was still there with them. But for the Schnee siblings sitting in the pantry chatting the night away…those fleeting moments were enough.
0700
Cardin's Apartment, Mantle
"Miya," Cardin warned, "eat your vegetables."
"I don't wanna," the little girl whined, kicking her feet in a chair still too tall for her. She looked at him with her signature large blue eyes, "uncle Russel doesn't force me to!"
Russel you son of a bitch, Cardin thought, "What about uncle Ren? Would you rather drink uncle Ren's special drink?"
"Ewwwww!" the girl stuck out her tongue.
"Then eat your vegetables or I will ask uncle Ren to make your vegetables into a drink," Cardin grinned, "Either ways, finish it before we get you to school, okay?"
Her face immediately fell. She looked at her unfinished breakfast plate, not willing to meet Cardin's eyes. Cardin knew that look. There was something she wanted to say.
"What is it, Miya?" Cardin said softly, "You can talk to me, you know."
She kicked her feet, hesitated. But, eventually, mumbled something.
"What is it?" He bent down lower, "Speak up. I don't have your ears."
"I don't wanna go to school."
The way she said it made Cardin hold off on the fact it wasn't the typical issue a seven year old "Why? Did something happen?" He asked.
She nodded.
"Tell me what happened, Miya." Cardin encouraged.
She looked at him, "Why do some people call me an animal?" Her large rabbit ears twitched, pulling back and flattening.
Cardin felt like someone had just decked him in the face. Is this the Brother's way of retribution? Retribution for his younger days? While to him, it was but a minor transgression compared to the line of work he does now, it somehow felt worse in a way that he couldn't describe.
The irony however, was not lost to Cardin at all.
Cardin Winchester, guardian of a faunus child. If someone told him that was in his future in his Beacon years, Cardin would have punched said person in the nose. But, a lot of things have happened since his Beacon days.
He ruffled Miya's brown hair, smiling as she beamed up at him. "Did they do anything to you?"
She shook her head, but Cardin saw the brief moment of hesitation. She wasn't ready to tell him, yet.
"Well," Cardin said, "some people are….misguided. They see this," he tapped Miya's ears. He frowned when she winced, "instead of what's in here." He tapped her chest, indicating her heart.
That's bullshit coming out of his mouth, he knew. But maybe if he told her the right things she wouldn't turn out like the fuck up he is. Some people are insecure. Some people lash out when they are hurt. Some people simply enjoy hurting others. Cardin knew this, he used to be the kid that ripped legs one by one off insects just for fun. But, Miya is still a child, and usually kids that age don't hurt others just because they look different.
"But, Miya." He leaned in close, "Do not ever let them walk all over you. If you must fight back, fight."
Miya nodded silently.
"If they hurt you, fight back. But know when to stop." Cardin said, "It's a fine line to walk. Because if you overdo it, they will think that they are right."
"Sounds hard," Miya grumbled.
"It is," Cardin admitted, "but if the ear pulling continues. Tell me. I'll have a word with the little weasel."
Cardin kicked himself immediately for the usage of the word "weasel", but Miya didn't seem to notice.
Miya looked up in surprise, her hands instinctively going to her rabbit ears. "H-how-?"
Because he's done it before, he wanted to say. "I had a talk with Mr Schnee," he told her instead, "I know you aren't doing that well."
"Oh," the girl looked down at her breakfast, "I'm sorry."
"It's okay, Miya," Cardin scooted in closer to the girl, "my grades weren't the best either. But you are a smart girl, so I know it was something else bothering you."
The child leaned onto Cardin and gave him a hug. He hesitated, but eventually patted her on the head.
Cardin's scroll chirped. He frowned as he brought up the message.
"Looks like we're going to school a little earlier today, Miya."
"Work?" Miya asked, the disappointment on her face evidently. Cardin tried not to look at her when she did expressions like that. It had a way of sapping his will.
"Work." Cardin confirmed.
"Will I have to stay over at school? With Mr Schnee?"
"Hopefully not," He said, truthfully. He knew how much Miya missed him, "When I get back, let's get ice cream, how about that?"
"Yay!"
0800
Main Operating Base Elysia, Atlas
"I'm curious, Mr Thrush," Ozpin said, "Why spend your off time with an old man like me?"
Russel snorted. The face Ozpin was wearing was anything but old. "Don't have anywhere to go, really."
"No personal life? No partner?" Ozpin asked. He considered the board in front of him, and moved his knight chess piece, "check."
"Damn," Russel cursed, moving his king to safety, "and no. No partner. Never made any that worked out in this line of work. Would have stayed a Huntsman if I wanted one. Much less taboo around hunting Grimm."
"Checkmate," Ozpin announced. He chuckled, "You haven't played a day in your life, have you?"
"No," Russel admitted. He quickly changed to the subject, "To be fair, Ren and Cardin are in the same boat, but at least they have obligations to fulfill."
"Family?"
"Kinda," Russel shrugged, "Ren's got his Nora and Cardin's got a kid to look after."
"Mr Lie's connection with Ms Valkyrie was obvious from the beginning. I'm glad they ended up together." Ozpin smiled as he thought back, "As for Mr Winchester, it's good to see he has found someone too."
"Eh," Russel looked awkwardly to the side, "sorry to pop your bubble of optimism, but you are wrong on both counts."
"Oh dear." Ozpin's face fell, almost instantly.
"Nora's gone for a while now. Ren still couldn't let her go. Goes to Argus to visit her every chance he gets. Gloomy fucker, but can't blame the guy," Russel shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"Shame. A damn shame." Ozpin sighed, "Do you know what happened?"
Russel shook his head, "Only Winter does. It's not a topic he likes to talk about. Plus, it's too late for us to ask now anyway. Too awkward, you know?"
"As for Mr Winchester?"
"Found the kid on a mission during one of the Ops," Russel shrugged, "Slavers, lots of casualties. Couldn't just leave the kid, in the middle of Grimm territory, could we?"
"Unfortunate," Ozpin sighed, "it is something all Huntsmen must face sooner or later, the possibility of a failed mission. Even team CFVY's first failed mission took a massive toll on their mental state."
"Yea, I heard about that one," Russel grumbled, "at least I would have swallowed that down a bit better if the Grimm were involved at all."
There was a knock at the door, and whatever Ozpin wanted to say died in his throat. Russel looked up.
"Ah shit." Russel Thrush knew there was going to be trouble when he saw her.
He chugged the rest of his energy drink, the overtly sweet and sickly fizzy formula no longer affecting him like it used to, and crushed the can in his hands. Something was up, he could feel it.
May Marigold, former heir of the Marigold family, stood at the doorway.
"What gives, Mary?" Russel drawled, a crooked grin on his face, "It's our off day."
May glowered at Thrush for calling her "Mary". Something on her face made told him something was wrong. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her eyes were red and swollen, like she had been teargassed.
"May," He said, "You look like shit."
She dragged out a chair and sat in front of him, "Robyn needs your help. You and the rest of you guys."
"Shit, something happen?"
May looked at Ozpin, then back at Russel, "Who is he?"
"Someone above your paygrade," Russel said, earning him a scowl, "but he's good."
May hesitated, but spoke anyway, "Fiona's dead, and Joanna is missing."
"Shit."
"A group had come in, packed with a shipment of corpses. Law enforcement found Fiona a few hours ago. I went there and-" May stopped, biting her lips. She took a deep breath, "We suspect a hostile group has infiltrated Mantle. We want to keep this down low, as to not cause a panic."
"Panic my ass," Russel snorted, "There's something more to it, isn't there?"
May nodded. "I won't speculate on what it is. Robyn is coming down here personally brief Winter. We're calling in the favour you owe us."
"The favour Winter owes Robyn….and Qrow, and Clover."
"But whatever Winter does, you will follow too," May shrugged, "so it doesn't make a difference."
"Shit, got me there." Russel stood up. He looked at Ozpin apologetically, "Sorry sir, looks like my sixth loss in our game of chess is going to have to wait.
"I'll be looking forward to it, Mr Thrush." Ozpin waved him off, "I appreciate you keeping me company. Security measures also make for awfully dull days."
"I'll catch you later, old man."
Ozpin sat back in his seat, clasping his hands together as he heard the door hiss shut. These past few weeks were but a heartbeat in his eyes. He could wait months or years for a plan to come to fruition. But something told him that he didn't need to wait that long this time round. He closed his eyes, and waited.
Robyn and May entered Winter's office. Robyn and May both were a far cry from what they used to look. Now a proper councilwoman, their huntsmen attire was fully replaced with smart blue suits. But even then, their weapons hung loosely on their backs. Some habits did die hard.
Without even a greeting, Robyn dragged out a chair and sat in front of Winter. It looked like she didn't get much sleep either. May stood at the back near the doorway. She too, looked tired.
"Fiona is dead," Robyn said flatly, "and Joanna is missing. I'm calling in our favour."
The lack of sleep yesterday had left Winter in a very sour mood this morning. The words coming out of Robyn's mouth did not help much at all. When the words "I'm calling in our favour," came tumbling out of Robyn's mouth, Winter knew they were going to butt heads.
"Here I thought you were coming down to visit," Winter arched an eyebrow as she sank into her office chair. She poured them both a cup of coffee, "what happened, Robyn?"
"Dock workers found Fiona first thing in the morning," Robyn said, her voice cold and hard, "Joanna was accompanying her, and she never showed up too." She clenched her fists. It was shaking, "Some bastard ripped out her heart, Winter. But we never found the heart itself."
Some psycho killed her then, but that begs the question. What were they doing at the docks? All of the docks were a distance away from the main patrol areas of Mantle, but more importantly…
"Robyn," Winter sighed, knowing the answer, "why did you come to me? This seems like something for the police, or even the Ace Ops if there was truly a domestic threat."
Robyn sighed deeply, as if it pained her to do this. "I am in calling in the favor, Winter. I want this to be kept down low. No one hears a word of this."
"May I inquire as to why?"
Robyn looked at May briefly. Winter knew they were considering if they should tell her everything.
"I can make an educated guess, Robyn," Winter leaned back into her seat, "old habits die hard after all."
Robyn narrowed her eyes, but relented and sighed, "There's no way about this. We were moving people from outside the kingdom into Mantle. I do not know what happened, but the deal went south, evidently."
"Of course you were," Winter sighed, "of fucking course. And now when it finally comes to bite you in the ass, you-"
"If the rest of the council- no, if anyone- were to catch wind of this, it's over for me."
"I'm seriously considering that possibility of letting them know, Robyn."
"People need Atlas's help, Winter," Robyn snapped, "weather the rest of the council likes it or not, Atlas and Mantle has the moral duty to look out for the rest of Remnant. I cannot do that if I'm grounded in Mantle again."
Winter rolled her eyes. Please. The people of Remnant need Atlas's help. How self-righteous can you get? "And your solution is to smuggle in people into the border, past any and all security measures we put in place," Winter shook her head in disgust, "I have no idea why the council, or even General Ironwood back then even tolerated your insurgent activates."
"Insurgent?" The councilwoman spat indignantly, "We are helping people, dammit! Do you have any idea how many people we uplifted from the Grimm territories, how many people flourished and prospered under Mantle and Atlas."
"Surely helped the companies prosper, you keep bringing in cheap labour force. That is the reason why my father backed you instead of Ironwood. You really think of Whitley didn't take the helm, SDC would be any different?"
Robyn slammed her fist down on the table, her face red with fury, "Enough! I didn't come here to debate you, Winter."
"General Ironwood, my father, almost my entire family, died because terrorists were given a straight path into Mantle," Winter snapped, "Has that day taught you nothing simply because you weren't affected?"
"Fiona is dead, Winter," Robyn growled, pointing an accusing finger at Winter, "I want to find the fucker that did this. I do not have time to debate about this shit. Drop it, and keep your word."
"Don't we have time?" Winter snarled, "Most likely both your friends are dead. So let's god damn talk."
"Winter..."
"Your Huntresses trafficked in hundreds and thousands of people into Mantle. Is it a wonder that we are stretched to our necks stamping out gang activity? Is a wonder that despite your best efforts, your Happy Huntresses are as busy as ever stamping out criminals and exploitation rings?"
"Winter, I'm warning you."
"I told you one day you will step on a landmine. But it wasn't you that paid for it." Winter leaned back, "And now you want me and my men to go on a hunt, which if exposed, will mean a new wave of protests. Atlas government overreach, police and military brutality, and people are going to lap it up. Then you will parrot their slogans and undermine the security of Atlas and Mantle like the traitorous rat you are. "
"You cold bitch," May snarled, stepping forwards, "We have helped thousands of people get a better life. I don't expect you, a princess that grew up surrounded in gold and silver mined by the bare hands of slaves to understand."
"Slaves the likes of you imported," Winter shot back, "You're not the one that has lost family due to idiot actions perpetuated by-," Winter stopped, and reconsidered, "actually. You just did. By your own blindness and self-righteousness. You have cost Fiona, and possibly Joanna her life."
May lunged at Winter, leaping over the desk dividing the two. Winter was ready. She caught May by her fist, twisted, and slammed her onto the floor. Winter drove her knee into the back of May, and raised her fist to-
"Stop!" Robyn barked, standing up.
Winter let go of May, sneering, "Try that again and I'll break your arm. Try explaining that to the press."
"You fucking-" May scrambled to her feet, "I'll-"
"May! Enough!" Robyn lifted a finger and pointed it close to Winter's face, "you fucking owe me, Winter. I'm calling in that favour whether you like it or not. Without me, where would you be? In some office job thinking about what you could be doing as you waste your life away, I imagine."
Winter sneered, "Fine. After this, we're done. I'll go brief the boys. Once we have the information, we will scour Mantle and bring them to you. I will let you slit their throats yourself and dump them in a back alley, just another victim of gang violence. How about that?"
Robyn faltered, "I-"
"-wanted me to do the dirty work for you?" Winter arched an eyebrow, "Don't want to sully your hands with blood?"
"I never –"
"Bullshit," Winter didn't let her finish, "You would have gone to the police otherwise if you wanted them alive, or even the Ace Ops if you wanted them alive and done quietly. But you came to me. You know what the legionnaires do. You sign off on our missions after all, along with the rest of the council." Winter sat back down, sniffing contemptuously, "But you came to me. You know my record as well as I do."
Robyn held Winter's gaze, and sighed. "Fine. I owe Fiona and Joanna that much anyway."
"Then you better hope this is as simple as it appears."
Robyn closed her eyes, and sighed, "It isn't. Fiona and Joanna wouldn't be taken out so easily. I suspect that we have let in someone very, very dangerous."
"You probably did," Winter spat, "But worry not for your political career if this does get out. Everyone has forgotten the hundreds of lives lost five years ago. Climbed over their corpses to reach that moral high ground."
Robyn said nothing, but May glared at Winter contemptuously. Winter stood up, strapping her sword and sidearm on her uniform.
"I hope it was worth it," Winter said, before slamming the door.
"That fucking psycho bitch," May snarled, "heartless, cruel fas-"
"May," Robyn sighed as she held her head, "enough. Please."
"Why the fuck do we even need her help. Why the fuck did you help her in the first place. She's a damn Schnee and you know what they're like."
"She has different priorities, May. Even then, in this case at least, she isn't wrong."
"But-"
Robyn clenched her fists repeatedly, knuckles cracking, "We haven't been on the field for far too long. She's been overseas dealing with the worst Remnant has to offer. You know as well as I each time we bring these people in there are risks involved."
"But somehow, our initial screening failed this time round. The facial recognition, the bio scans, everything." May sighed, "Just shitty fucking luck, then."
"No such thing, May."
"What do you mean?"
"In the past 10 years, how many times has Atlas security systems malfunctioned or failed outright?"
"I don't know," May shrugged, "off the top of my head, two times."
"Three including this," Robyn nodded, "first time, it was Fall of Beacon. Second time, General Ironwood's assassination. Third time," she shot May a knowing look, "I pray to the Brothers I am wrong, May. Else it won't just be the blood of our sister's on my our hands."
"Are you suggesting..." May narrowed her eyes, "…sabotage?"
"Anything is possible," Robyn admitted, "fuck, I can't believe I'm quoting Ironwood. As he used to say, "Once, is happenstance. Twice is a coincidence. Three times-"
"-is enemy action." May finished.
"I could hear the shouting from outside, ma'am," Russel quipped. The man was already in full combat load, black armoured vest donned and ready. His rifle hung loosely on his shoulder, a sharp contrast to the white uniformed personnel milling about.
Lie Ren and Cardin Winchester flanked the door, likewise fully geared. They shared knowing looks between each other, keeping their thoughts on the shouting to themselves.
"Can it, Thrush," Winter snapped, "I'm not in the mood." As she walked, the men fell in step. The crowd parted, scrambling to get out of the way of the ominous black uniformed men.
"Status?"
"Geared and ready to go as usual, ma'am." Cardin replied.
"Gear down and meet me in the briefing room. We have a fucking mess in our hands."
"Yes ma-"
There was a distant rumble, muffled but loud enough to cut through the din of activity. The men immediately shouldered their rifles, their stances low and muscles coiled.
The uniformed men and women of Atlas stopped in their tracks, curious of what that sound was. They stood there, more stunned and confused by the sudden alertness of the men in black rather than the odd loud sound.
Then, muffled cracks and pops sounded through the walls of the Atlas military base.
Winter's mind reeled at the impossibility, at the sheer audacity of such actions. But there was no mistaking it.
Gunfire.
Ozpin opened his eyes.
They were here.
One soldier, a fresh recruit by the name of Mae, was hopping up and down to warm herself up. Her partner, Sall was fiddling with his scroll. Judging by the obnoxious beeping coming from it, he was in the middle of a game.
They were supposed to be guarding the entrance, but hardly anyone comes by road.
"Aw fuck," Sall cursed, "really?"
Mae glowered at the man, "Put the damn thing away before the sergeant sees."
"I was so damn close!" Sall grumbled, "damn thing had to die on me." He tapped the scroll aggressively a few times through his thick gloves.
"Uh, Mae?"
"Yea?" She called back to her partner.
"Is your scroll working?"
"Why wouldn't it be?" Mae asked.
"Please? Maybe there's a CCT outage," Sall put his scroll down, a worried look on his face, "I just bought the damn thing. It's not working anymore."
Mae rolled her eyes under her helmet, "Fine, happy?"
Glancing around, making sure no one is approaching, Mae fished out her scroll.
There was no reception at all. In fact, it seems to be remotely deactivated. She frowned.
"Yeah, odd. Mine's dead too." She looked up, to see Sall staring into the distance, "What?"
She followed his gaze. There were figures in the distance, indistinct and ghostlike. The snow suddenly intensified, as if actively veiling their approach.
But then, something odd happened.
The falling snow began to slow down, and, to Mae's amazement, come to a halt in mid air. It shook and vibrated, like an old security footage.
"What the fu-" she began.
Then, she died, turned into ribbons of flesh and bone by the time it took them to scream.
The Grimm creature roared. All the hate, terror, confusion and sorrow the being had experienced in its entire life blasted out in that one single shriek.
The day before, the Grimm creature was Joanna Greenleaf. A headstrong, caring teammate that would put her life down for her friends. An irreplaceable member of the Happy Huntresses and a loving daughter.
Now, she was a thing of horror. Fuelled by pure Grimm essence forcibly injected into her dying body and corrupting her very being, it was a missile of spikes, fangs, and claws.
Trailing behind the carnage, Adam advanced, an entire platoon of Black Claws in tow.
Sall hobbled up to his feet, his pristine white uniform now covered in the red gore of his partner. He turned to look at Adam, "W-what's going on?"
Adam decapitated the man in a single clean strike. He stepped over the juddering corpse, and advanced into the facility.
"Brothers!" Adam roared, "Bare your fangs!"
"Rip their throats!" The Black Claws thundered back.
The unit moved as one with the speed, surprise, and violence that earned them their infamous reputation. Their Grimm masks shone in the fire, the blood red patterns seem to glow as red as the blood being spilt.
They fanned out in the courtyard, rifles barking and blades flashing, a bloody trail in their wake.
The White Fang unit punched through the confused Atlesian soldiers, their training further enhanced by unnatural means.
Scar bayonetted a surprised soldier in the neck, his strike powerful enough to shatter aura like glass. Vajo's shotgun thundered as his team punched down the corridors, blasting reeling men point-blank and sending their broken bodies flying. Blake was a smoking ghost, opening throats and disembowelling reeling soldiers with unnatural grace as she danced between each target.
Adam followed behind. While he was unenhanced unlike his Black Claws brethren, he was equally as formidable, if not more. He was a whirlwind of red and black steel, his swordsmanship on full display he butchered his way through. Bullets were deflected with unerring accuracy, and he moved with the speed and skill that earned him his position.
Around him, an alarm began to wail.
Tyrian charged through the main lobby. The Grimm creature had already torn through the area, judging by the blood painting the floor, walls, and ceiling.
A masterpiece of life and death, he thought.
There were survivors, a man dragging a woman faunus with her. The girl's legs were missing, but her screams told the world that she was very much alive.
Her friend saw Tyrian, and with a curse, he lifted his weapon. It was a trumpet, to his amusement.
The sonic blast that followed was even more so. Tyrian cackled as dodged the attack, leaping up high and crawling up the walls, concrete shattering and fracturing beneath him under the sonic assault.
He leapt down, stinger first. The Huntsman fell back, convulsing as he clutched the gaping wound in his throat. The bisected trumpet clattered to the ground, along with several fingers.
The faunus girl wailed as she threw herself over her dying friend.
She looked up at Tyrian, her striking green eyes piercing into his soul. "Why?" she croaked.
"Why?" Tyrian stroked his chin, as if he was deep in thought. He flashed a grin, "Why not?"
He stepped up to the girl, deliberate and slow. His stinger dangling threateningly above his head as he loomed over his prey. He hovered his stinger above the girl, like a looming guillotine ready to fall.
She screamed when he struck, and caught the stinger right before it pierced her heart.
Some fight left in her after all.
Maybe he can play for just a moment. They had time, right?
The girl gasped, as the tip pierced her skin. She grasped the stinger with her bare hands, trying to stop the inevitable. Tyrian grinned as, -with agonizing slowness- he sank the tip of his stinger into her chest.
"No…" She hissed, "…stop…"
"Hmm," Tyrian mock contemplated, "No."
She wept and choked, her breaths becoming faster as she hyperventilated. Her strength was waning. Tyrian sank the stinger deeper, inch by inch. He could feel her struggle, flounder uselessly like a drowning man in the black ocean pits.
Hey eyes, so green and striking, were alive.
"I like you, little girl," He whispered, "the look in your eyes. You should be thanking me."
He licked his lips.
"Savour this moment, girl. This is the most alive you have ever been. Will ever be."
Desperation kicked in. The girl clenched her teeth as she fully gripped the stinger, she howled as Tyrian applied a slight bit more pressure. Only in these moments, the moments closest to death, does one truly live.
He cackled, delighted at her renewed strength. Perhaps he should-
The girl's head snapped back as a bullet punched through her skull. She went limp, her limbs shuddering.
Tyrian looked up, furious.
Adam shoved his way past the psychopath, "Focus on the mission, idiot!" he snarled.
Tyrian sneered back. That man was no fun.
"Ozpin!"
The door to Ozpin's room was kicked open, and Winter stormed in. The men flanked her, rifles up covering the rear and front.
Ozpin sat in his seat, seemingly not able to hear the alarm blasting overhead. He looked up calmly at Winter.
"Sir, we need to leave," Winter shouted over the alarm, "Protocol-"
"Black Ice," Ozpin finished up for her, standing up, "I am familiar with James's protocols."
"Then you know we must leave, now."
The shouting and screaming outside got louder. There was a series of deafening bangs, and some were cut short. Winter readied her pistol, but she signalled for Cardin to take a look outside.
Cardin was about to edge out, when a junior huntsman sprinted down the hallway across his vision. His entire right arm was wet and crimson, flailing limply at his side. He turned back, and let loose a few shots with his sidearm, lighting up the hallway.
Three figures were bounding down towards him, their weapons smoking. They were all wearing snarling Grimm masks.
Answering fire stitched through his body, and the junior simply crumpled in a heap. The boy rolled around, gasping in pain. He looked up at Cardin, his eyes pleading.
"H-help me." he gurgled.
A Dust round blew out his throat.
Cardin swung out and fired his rifle.
The volley caught the first Fang in the chest, cracking through his Aura in a burst of colour. Then, a single precise shot nailed the terrorist through the eyeholes of his mask. Cardin bounded out into the next room. Multi-coloured Dust tracers chased after him, ricocheting off the floor and pinging hard into the metal door of Ozpin's room.
Russel popped out low in that moment, while the Fang were focused on Cardin, a small black target at the bottom of the doorframe. His rifle barked, and another one fell, his face demolished by five precise rifle shots.
The last Fang then recognized the predicament he was in, when he realized two of his friends had died in a couple of heart beats. He swung his aim around, firing wildly at the new threat.
Like clockwork, Cardin leaned out in that moment. The Fang tried to adjust his aim as he backpedalled wildly, cursing and howling.
Another volley, and the man stumbled back, his body riddled with shots. Black blood bled from his wounds, hissing and bubbling, thick and viscous.
But he wasn't dead. As he fell on his knees, he shouted. "They are here! Block two! Block tw-"
Two shots, executed simultaneously it had sounded like one, dropped the man.
"Move!" Russel barked.
"What in the name of the Brothers is going on?" Robyn shouted, raising her voice above the alarms.
No one acknowledged her. Non-combat personnel were fleeing with abandon in the opposite direction as white armoured troops elbowed and shoved their way against the tide.
It was blatantly clear that this was not a combat drill. The alarm bells, the gunfire and even the casualties could be simulated. But nothing could simulate the razor edge of the atmosphere, the hint of burning flesh and blood in the air, and the very real panic of the fleeing men and women.
May stumbled out from behind, and grabbed a running soldier, an Atlas Academy student, first year by the markings on his shirt, "What's going on, soldier?"
"We're under attack!" The boy squeaked.
May slapped him across the cheek, "Get a hold of yourself, Huntsman. I didn't ask for the obvious!"
"Protocol Black Ice," Clover suddenly appeared beside her. The rest of the Ace Ops team closed in around the council member.
May's jaw went slack. Robyn stared at Clover in disbelief, "That bad? Clover. You can't be serious."
"Black Ice is in effect, ma'am," Clover clarified, "Harriet will escort you to safety. You will be evacuated if required."
Elm, the largest of the Ace Ops, gently placed her hand on Robyn's shoulder. It was restrained, but Robyn knew she was about to be manhandled if she didn't comply, "Please ma'am. We have got to move you now."
"Get your hands off her, Elm." May warned.
Robyn was about to protest when she heard it. A high-pitched keening noise, like distant nails on a chalkboard. She saw Marrow visibly wincing, his faunus hearing amplifying it. She felt her bile rise. Robyn was unceremoniously grabbed and hauled away by Elm. Robyn tried to protest. She could stay and fight, she could help! But the Ace Ops had their orders. Protocol Black Ice meant that her safety was prioritized above all, and even she couldn't override it.
The Grimm thing burst down the corridor, a red keening blur. Reality shimmered and bubbled around it. Robyn had a hard time actually seeing what it was. But the carnage it left was visible enough.
Doors splintered in an explosive blizzard as it passed. People were gutted, torn, and shredded. Their Auras detonating in flashes of colour as they collapsed in fountains of blood. Some were battered aside like bowling pins, and some without Aura simply popped like blood blisters.
"Oh shit!" May cursed. She unfurled her crossbow, and sent several bolts down at the screaming Grimm. It showed no sign of stopping, nor even registering it was struck by twenty inches of cold steel.
"Stay!" Marrow roared. His semblance hit the Grimm creature like a tidal wave.
It slowed down to a crawl, but even then reality shimmered and bubbled, distorting around the black humanoid form thrashing inside.
Marrow grunted, and blood started leaking down his nose.
May unloaded shot after shot into the creature, her bolts exploding with elemental energy. Chunks of blackened ice formed and shattered in an instant as May tried to freeze the monster in place.
Yellow beams of Aura shot forth, shaped into claws. It skewered the Grimm in the chest, and tore outwards. Black viscera spilt forth, suspended in mid air. It smoked and hissed like black jewels, glistening in the light. Vine tore into the helpless creature, his face a mask of calm as he butchered his target.
Harriet darted forth, a trail of lightning behind her as she shot up the wall and over the fleeing men and women. She was a blur, covering the entire hallway in a blink of an eye. She hit the Grimm with the force of a bullet, her exoskeleton demolishing where the Grimm's shimmering head should be. Black blood splattered in a halo, but like everything around it, the droplets froze in mid motion. It looked like a defaced fallen angel.
Harriet rounded for another run, once, twice. Each time taking a good chunk out of the creature.
"Harriet!" Marrow hissed, "B-back! Now!"
The thing began to move. Time resumed around it as the thrashing form started to move, speeding up again.
"Oh shit." Harriet snarled, skidding to a halt and dashing back towards the group.
"Scatter!" Clover bellowed.
The Grimm thing tore free, and the terrible keening noise amplified. The team immediately went in different directions, kicking down doors in an attempt to avoid the death missile.
Marrow howled, wincing as his ears bled from the terrible noise, his enhanced hearing costing him a few seconds.
Clover dove in, yanking his teammate onto the floor. Marrow cracked his chin painfully on the concrete, just as the Grimm soared overhead. Clover didn't see how close to death they both had been, but he felt the murderous rage knifing through the space above.
Clover spun, and stabbed his weapon – a hook sword- upwards. The bladed head sunk and tore into the creature's abdomen, showering him in ichor as he disembowelled the creature.
Clover grinned as he looked at Marrow, "Close one, pup." His face fell when he realized he was rolling in blood.
"Brothers, fucking, dammit!" Marrow roared, flipping on his back and unloading his rifle at the passing Grimm creature's back, his white uniform now stained red.
Blood coated the ground, hot and sticky. Marrow roared in agony, shouting profanities the team had never heard him use before. The shredded stump of meat that used to be his tail was pumping out blood like a fountain. There was a pulse of colour, and the bleeding stopped.
The thing had not ripped through Marrow's Aura, Clover realized.
It had bypassed it completely. As it was not present at all.
Clover scrambled up, almost slipping. His weapons reel clicked and clacked as his prey swam away. "You are not going anywhere."
He pulled. The powerful motors in his hook sword whined. The weapon bent, and Clover hauled, his exposed arm muscles bulging with the effort.
The line slackened. The murderous red blur was turning back, the tidal wave of destruction marking its path.
"Again!" Clover barked.
"S-stay!" Marrow growled, gritting his teeth through the pain.
Once again, the creature slowed. Once again, the Ace Ops dove in, renewing their assault.
"They are here! Block two! Block tw-" The radio cut off.
"Woods? Woods!" Adam yelled through his earpiece. He cursed. He turned and shouted to his men, "Target in Block two! Pursue and cut off!"
Adam pointed and selected the group closest men to him, "You lot! Come with me. Blake and I are going to the secondary objective."
The Black Claws split into teams, and went on the hunt.
Adam's group advanced, weapons up and sweeping. They split off from the main group as they entered the area designated as "Block two". They needed to move fast, to keep up the momentum. Once the Atlesians gather their wits, their mission will become harder.
As Scar burst through into a hallway, he was shredded. A hail of fire and lightning perforated him, shattering his Aura, burning out his spine and cracking off a good chunk of his skull. Hissing black blood sprayed across the white floors as Scar fell, the damage too much even for the Grimm blood to compensate.
Someone had been carrying a Dust machine gun, most likely a Huntsmen.
Yuma was luckier, despite having no enhancements. The bullet deflected off his mask, the force smashing through his Aura, into his face and breaking his cheekbone. Yuma was pulled back into cover by Adam.
"Yin!" Adam shouted,
"Got it!" Yin slid behind him, slapping a shell in her grenade launcher. She popped out, and fired. The grenade shrieked down the hallway, smashing past ceiling lights before detonating. The concussive blast shook the building as smoke billowed up the hall.
"Again!" Adam coughed,
Yin laughed, cracking open the smoking launcher and slotting in another shell.
Suddenly, Adam felt the hair on his neck rise. "Semblance!" He yelled.
As if grabbed by an invisible hand, Yin yelped as she was yanked into the open. Gunfire stitched into Yin, but she let off another shot before her neck blew wide open in a shower of fire Dust.
Another blast, concrete cracked and chipped. Then, a huge explosion rocked the entire building. A rush of fire and lighting blasted down the hallway as the elemental Dust cooked off. Screams echoed down the hallway.
Adam winced, feeling the heatwave sear into his Aura. The fire died down.
"Blake!" Adam barked, and immediately Blake darted in, claws extended, barely disturbing the drifting smoke.
He crouched down to check on Yin. She was still alive, but not for long. Even with enhanced physiology, the burning wound was fatal. They looked at each other, and nodded.
"Die well, my friend." Adam said, drawing out her sidearm and placing it in her hand, "kill anyone that comes up behind." He dragged her to a wall, and left her there.
As the unit advanced through into the blackened hallway. They found most of the defenders dead, their charred and blackened corpses twisted in awkward positions. Blake slit the throats of the few deaf and blinded survivors.
"Power room," Yuma pointed towards a marked room, "I don't see the point. It's still day, and their back up emergency generators-"
"Watts took care of the generators," Adam said, unhooking a grenade from his belt, "their lower levels and inner areas will still be in darkness. Focus, Yuma."
"Yes sir."
Adam tossed in the grenade and slammed the door, "Back!" he barked.
The door blasted off with a thunderclap. The lights of the facility flickered, then died.
"Fuck." Russel swore when the lights flickered off, "We need vision, ASAP."
"Ren," Winter said.
"Got it," Ren moved ahead, his semblance activating. The world was dark but in the distance, small flickers of colour stood out. Past the walls, the floors of concrete, past the chaos, one thing remained true.
Emotion.
The red of killing intent glowed brightly on himself and his team. Ozpin's blue was that of a calm river….and behind him, a good distance away...
"That's...a lot of them."
Colours, bright and varied, flickering and moved. It was a mixture of Fang and Military. Some vanished as they died. Some turned dark blue in fear, before flickering out. Over in Block one, a cacophony of colours, one so bright it hurt Ren to look at it. There was a huge fight going on in the upper hallways where they were a few minutes before.
No time to get distracted. His vision wasn't as clear as night-vision goggles, and it constantly sapped at his Aura, but it had other uses.
"I got a group moving to cut us off in front. Another group pursuing us from the back. If we cut our way forwards up the stairs, we can punch through the smallest group. That entire path will have windows, giving us some vision. Break through the glass, then into the parking lot from there. "
"Sounds like a plan," Winter said, "let's go!"
The lights went dead, and that almost killed the Ace Ops.
It was a brief distraction, but a costly one.
May had lined up another shot, and in that brief moment, she lost her target.
Blood loss and pain had addled Marrows mind, and in that brief moment, he lost focus.
Harriet had been rounding in for another attack, and in that brief moment, she misjudged her distance.
Vine had launched another strike with his Aura bladed arms, and in that brief moment, he hesitated.
Clover had been going in for another hook, and in that brief moment, he was distracted.
Marrow yelled out a warning, but it was too late.
The Grimm creature broke free.
Harriet tumbled forward, her own momentum carrying her lightning-wreathed body down the length of the hallway, crashing past bodies and leaving a streak of blood and sparks. Her Aura sparked weakly as she went into shock, both her arms now nothing but mangled red stumps.
Vine missed his mark. Instead of skewering the monster in the torso, he hacked off a good chunk of its arm. The Grimm creature sped towards Vine, a flurry of red blades and teeth. He didn't have time to scream.
Clover should have died too, then and there. However, he didn't.
Blood saved him. Blood, and plain stupid luck.
He slipped, narrowly dodging the creature. He didn't see Vine's demise, but he felt it. Blood and chunks of flesh sprayed into his face as the creature demolished his teammate.
"Stay!" Marrow screamed again.
Clover scrambled away, towards Harriet's still twitching form. The only visible thing in his darkness was the residual lightning still coursing off her, "Marrow! Fall back!"
"I, can, hold it," Marrow snarled, "get Harriet!"
"Don't be a hero, boy! We can't fight what we can't see."
There was a crack, and the entire hallway was suddenly bathed in harsh orange. Clover looked up, to see a burning bolt embedded in the ceiling, lit up by fire Dust crystals.
"Gotcha," May growled, and she let off a shot.
The bolt pierced the thing's head, and it suddenly exploded in fire. The Grimm screamed, unable to thrash about as it was held with Marrow's semblance, lighting up the entire area in a harsh orange glow.
How much did he take to kill this thing? It was evidently wounded, as it seemed slower before. The forms were less blurred, and Clover could actually make out the vicious wounds they had inflicted on it.
"Go get your friend!" May yelled.
He ran over to Harriet. His teammate was in a very bad shape, the woman was pale, her eyes wide open and her mouth opening and closing soundlessly in pain.
"I'm sorry, Harriet." Clover said under his breath. He turned her around and ripped off her individual first aid kit attached to her belt. He dumped out everything and found the tourniquet.
It was the second time he had to use a tourniquet in an active situation, and last time he had been too slow. Harriet's previous partner, Tortuga, had paid the price for Clover's failure.
Not again, he vowed mentally.
Harriet gasped kicked weakly as he bound the piece of cloth around her stumps, tightening it as much as he could, so much so it hurt his subordinate. But she was dead anyway if he didn't stop the bleeding.
One done, another to go.
Seconds ticked away, and Clover could feel the life leaking out of Harriet.
Mercifully, Harriet went limp. Clover hoped to the Brothers he had saved her, not killed her in the process.
"Clover!"
He turned at Marrow's warning. The creature had broken free again. A burning spectre of death flew towards him, its entire body aflame. Its claws were extended, and Clover had just enough time to register it was going for his eyes.
Then it vanished.
A black blur battered it aside. A smoking black outstretched arm with vicious claws embedded itself into the wall beside Clover. The Grimm creature was battered back in a whirlwind of steel, a scythe carved and cut into the blurring form, matching the wounded creature's speed and ferocity. Clover recognized the silhouette of his saviour.
"You took your damn time!" He almost shouted, but he couldn't keep the smile of relief from his face. Looks like his luck held after all.
Qrow didn't answer. Fully focused on the creature in front of him. He parried and riposted, blow for blow. Marrow and May hesitated, not wanting to shoot into the ferocious melee. They watched slack jawed, finally knowing why Qrow Branwen had made a name for himself in the Huntsman world. The man was going toe to toe with the most deadly Grimm creature they had ever encountered, and he didn't even look phased.
Instead, it looked like he was stalling, as if waiting for something.
"Out of the way if you please, gentlemen," came a clipped, curt voice.
Clover looked up surprised, recognizing the voice.
Glynda Goodwitch, former vice principle of Beacon Academy, current headmistress of Atlas Academy, strode down the hallway. Her eyes were hard, as if she was about to deal with a particularly undisciplined student. Behind her, figures followed, their white uniforms accented by an emerald shoulder cape mirroring their headmistress's own.
Glynda's own Grimm Specialist Huntsmen: The Emerald Coven. An entire batch of them.
With a sly grin and an elaborate bow, needlessly flourished in the middle of a deadly duel, Qrow bowed out, his red cape fluttering as he twisted away.
The Emerald Coven began their blitz. Their methods were anything but subtle. Fireballs. Ice blasts. Electric bolts. Multi coloured Dust fire, further boosted by semblances ripped down the corridor, demolishing the floor, the ceiling, shattering concrete and stone. The Grimm creature was pinned, an ear-splitting scream tore through the storm of destruction.
But it was not dead.
It was enraged. It was hurt. It needed to flee.
It barrelled towards Glynda and her Coven, weathering the storm of Dust even as it blew black chunks after black chunks of corrupted meat off it. Clover's eyes widened in horror. It was going to go through them. The incoming attacks faltered as Glynda and her Coven realized the same thing.
"Stay!"
Suddenly, it slowed down, as if it was traveling through thick liquid.
Now, all of a sudden, May could see what the monster was, clear as day.
It was unmistakable. Despite the wounds, the black corrupted skin, the red eyes and the elongated fangs and claws, there was no mistaking it.
"Fuck! Joanna?" May gasped.
"Can't. Hold. It." Marrow grunted through gritted teeth, "Kill it! Kill it now!"
Suddenly, the pressure in the room increased tenfold. The air around the Grimm distorted and warped. There was a horrendous crack and crunch as the bones of the Grimm creature collapsed in upon itself. The Grimm creature howled as black blood spurt out in large pools. But the Grimm liquid hung in mid-air, frozen and suspended.
Glynda Goodwitch gritted her teeth, visibly straining as her telekinetic Semblance slowly crushed the creature under pressures so immense it warped perception, the sheer power and mastery of her semblance on full display.
"No!" May cried, "Stop! It's Joanna! Stop! Please!"
Something flashed in the Grimm creature's eyes. May saw it clear as day. For a brief moment, the blood red eyes of Joanna softened, as if in recognition…as if in thanks.
There was a thunderclap, and the Grimm Creature ceased to be. There was a fierce drop in pressure and a burst of hot air. Everyone was blasted back, some hit the walls hard enough to shatter their Aura. Black blood and bone fragments coated the charred walls of the facility.
Glynda Goodwitch was breathing heavily, her footing unstable. Qrow stabilized her, and she nodded in thanks. She turned around, clearing her throat. She brushed a thick chunk of charred gristle off her shoulder as she turned to face the surviving members of the Ace Ops.
Marrow fell on his knees, the blood running from his nose mixing with the red liquids he was heaving from his mouth. May stared at the blacked smudge on the floor, her mind uncomprehending.
Clover scrambled to Harriet, checking for a pulse.
He breathed a sigh of relief. Alive.
"Took you long enough," he muttered, before passing out.
"Stay behind me, sir," Russel told Ozpin.
"I can take care of myself, Mr. Thrush." The man replied calmly, as if it was nothing but an evening stroll in the park.
"Well Winter will have my ass if anything happens to you so...," Russel shrugged.
"Cut the chatter!" Winter snarled.
As they peaked round the corner, Ren saw them.
Angry red silhouettes in the distance, but Ren wasn't sure if they were friend or foe.
Then, it hit him like a particularly foul stench. Pure killing intent.
"Contact front!" Ren shouted, blasting into the red glowing blur in his vision. Muzzle flash lit up the corridor with each shot, and Ren could see the white glint of Grimm masks between each shot.
There was a flash. Concrete shattered and puffed, as the return fire went wide. The team came behind, Cardin slid up next to him firing methodically as Winter took up the rear. Russel stayed with Ozpin, breaking their usual close quarters formation.
They advanced, steadily and smoothly, as they kept up the pressure. Ren saw a red blur topple onto the ground, turning blue as it flickered shortly. Then, the light died.
Click.
Ren felt and heard the distinct sound of his rifle locking back, "Reloading!" He spun back behind Winter, ducking low as she levelled her rifle to keep up the barrage. Ren reloaded with practiced ease, the disorienting flashes of light and dark unaffecting muscle memory honed through thousands of repetitive action.
"Reloading!" Cardin bellowed, and Ren moved forward to take his place.
Someone held out their weapon from the corner, and let loose a blind fire volley on full auto. There were a series of flashes as bullets stitched up the hallway, into the ceiling and ground, wildly inaccurate. Winter conjured up a white barrier, her glyphs glowing bright enough to illuminate the entire stretch. It sparked and flickered as bullets hammered into it, flattening and dropping harmlessly onto the ground.
Suppressive fire, Ren recognized, but for what?
One of the red blurs leaned out.
"Shield, shield, shield!" Ren screamed.
Winter's barrier expanded in an instant, covering the entire height of the hallway, a glowing white wall separating both sides.
There was a concussive boom, and the entire world shook. Ren's ears popped and rang as he suddenly went deaf. Winter's barrier cracked, and smoke filled the corridor.
"Grenade launcher!" Cardin yelled, "Grenade!"
"Winter!" Ren coughed, "On my mark!"
Winter ducked back behind Cardin, her eye closed and focused.
Ren and Cardin shot again and again, at the corner where the grenadier fired from, hoping to pin him. Ren could see seven red blobs, now more distinctly humanoid in his vision. One was shooting blindly, not exposing his body, while the other was reloading. Ren watched as the red blob looked at his friends, and nodded.
The grenadier leaned out.
"Now!" Ren screamed.
A second white glyph wall materialized in front of the Fang, right at the moment when the grenade was fired.
The grenade detonated not a few steps in front of the shooter, shaking the entire building with its enclosed blast. Above the detonation, screams and curses rang out. Ren saw two red lights instantly snuffed out. The other lights stumbled, disorientated by the contained explosion.
"Into them!" Winter shouted, slinging back her rifle and drawing out her sword and pistol, "Hakkaa paalle!"
The legionnaires, upon hearing the command obeyed instantly, drawing out blades and close quarters sidearms.
Then, as one, they bellowed, "Cut them down!"
Russel, despite staying with Ozpin, unleashed his semblance.
Winter and her soldiers emerged from the billowing smoke, her intricate sabre and the beautiful revolver that used to belong to Ironwood gleaming in the glow of her glyphs.
In that moment, the White Fang hesitated. A wave of terror washed over them, locking joints in place and freezing logical thought. All of a sudden, the roars of charging men seemed like the screech of Banshee Grimm, heralding their demise.
Then, they were upon each other.
Winter unloaded three heavy calibre rounds into the face mask of the first man she saw, and ran her sword through the second, gutting him in one simple flourish.
Cardin's mace sent one terrorist careening across the room like a broken doll as he fired his pistol methodically.
Ren had drawn out both his bladed pistols, breaking through Aura with a barrage of bullets before carving bodies open in a string of Mistrali killing katas.
None of them saw the black shadow that flitted past them, straight for Russel and Ozpin.
Russel felt the attack coming behind before he saw her. He wasn't gifted with faunus night vision, but he had trained at Beacon for a time too. The way the air smelled, the way his skin prickled, the slow emergence of sorrow and dread from the back of his mind and heart.
It stank of Grimm.
Russel spun, drawing out his twin blades. Sparks flew as metal met claw, and he caught a brief flash of black, white and red
He jinxed back hacking out, but his blade only met smoke.
"Ozpin!" Russel shouted.
"I'm unharmed," Ozpin said.
"Was that-?"
"Grimm, yes."
Striking his blades together, it ignited into two flaming blades, driving the darkness back.
He scanned the area, ignoring the swirling melee going on not far from him. His eyes tried to pierce the long shadows cast by his flaming blades. He flourished with his weapons, getting his muscles ready into the flow that dictated his combat style. The shadows moved along with him.
All apart from one dark corner on the edges of his vision.
There!
Russel tossed one of his blades at the patch of darkness. It moved, like a shadow being thrown by a switching light source. The flaming blade grazed his target.
Blake reappeared on the side of him, ignoring Russel entirely as she struck at her designated target- Ozpin.
With a wave, Blake was thrown away in a blinding flash of green light. She skidded on the ground, twirling up gracefully, and landed on its feet before vanishing into the darkness again.
Ozpin lowered his hand, giving Russel a small smile, like a teacher catching a student in an awkward moment. "Close one, there."
Unholstering his pistol, Russel cursed. Had it been anyone but Ozpin, Russel would have failed, "Sorry sir." He muttered sheepishly.
That was no normal Grimm, or even faunus. Russel had no idea what it was, but it looked like a woman.
Adopting the blade and firearm technique developed by Winter, Russel steadied his aim with his blade arm, his dagger's light acting like a torch, piercing the darkness.
A black flicker ran up the wall. Russel snapped around, raking shots into shadow. It lunged at him, and this time Russel saw her.
Bone white skin, blood red eyes, flowing raven black hair.
He didn't hesitate to shoot.
His pistol exploded as Grimm talons bisected the barrel. On pure instinct alone, Russel stabbed forwards, skinning and burning the entire length of the creature's outstretched arm, his fists deflecting the deadly blow aimed at his throat.
With a roar, Russel drove himself forwards, letting go of his ruined pistol and grabbing hold of his enemy, his other arm hacking and slashing at the exposed torso. Blade met flesh, parting and cauterizing it with extreme heat.
Blake screamed. Russel hesitated, stopping in his onslaught and opted for tossing his target onto the floor. The scream sounded too human, too lifelike to belong to a Grimm.
It was then did Russel recognize the face.
Blake rolled to her feet ready to attack again. But then, something made her stop. She looked up and darted forwards, vanishing like smoke in the air.
"Shit." Russel muttered, picking up his thrown blade. It had embedded itself into the wall, charring it black, "I think I knew her."
"It is possible," Ozpin conceded, "the nature of Grimm is far more complex than what we reveal to the general Huntsmen society."
"No I mean," Russel clicked his tongue, ignoring the implications of Ozpin's comment, "I think she attended Beacon."
"My answer is still the same."
And just like that, Russel wondered if he should be protecting this man at all.
He slung his rifle forwards and reloaded, trying not to dwell on it. They still had enemies to kill.
Winter kicked the body off her sword, freeing her weapon. The faunus was still struggling, her pale skin and black hissing blood giving away their Grimm nature. Winter stabbed her sword down through the faunus's throat, severing the spinal cord.
Around her, Ren and Cardin were just mopping up, their uniforms were matted and wet with smoking black ichor. The pair went around, putting bullets into the heads of each fallen body just to be sure. They had faced Black Claws before, and they knew of their survivability.
But nothing could survive the destruction of their head or function with the severing of their spinal cord.
Russel jogged up behind, his rifle sweeping about. Winter saw that his daggers were smoking.
"Trouble?"
"Yea, assassin. Grimm or some kind."
Winter shot Ozpin a look, "All good, sir?"
"He performed admirably, given the circumstances," Ozpin said.
"He fucked up, didn't he?" Cardin snorted, reloading his weapons.
"Shut up," Russel grumbled, "Keep your eyes open. This one's a sneaky bitch."
Winter looked over the Ren, "Ren, how does the path forward look?"
The man blinked as he focused on his semblance. He looked around, front and back. He snapped his rifle up, "They're on our tail. 10 seconds."
"We can take em," Cardin said.
"We don't have the ammo," Ren shot back. He paused, "Contact in 3, 2, 1."
Ren immediately fired a burst. Winter could hear the enraged shouts down the way they came from.
"Forwards and up the stairs! Go!" Winter roared.
Blake landed in front of Adam, wincing with every movement. She rose, and pointed to the direction where she had encountered her targets. They were coming towards them, Adam knew. He could hear the gunshots and the distant shouting voices.
Adam nodded, "What of Trask and his squad?" But he knew the answer. She would not have retreated if they were still alive.
Blake shook her head, confirming his suspicions.
Then, he spotted the black blood dripping onto the pristine white floor.
"Shit, Blake. You're wounded." Adam leaned down, gesturing for her arm. She held it up to him. It was already knitting back together, but it was clear that Dust had been used. Had it been a clean blade or bullet wound, her Grimm physiology would have already compensated for the damage.
Rage. Hot and heavy, boiled through his veins. Those worms dared to hurt Blake, to draw blood. He had killed the bastards that were responsible for hurting Blake in her past life, and he will do so again in this.
He pulled her into an embrace. He could feel her shuddering. Was it fear? Disgust? Or simply her dead nerves misfiring. Deep down, he knew which it was.
"We'll get them. I won't let them hurt you, I swear."
With a gesture, he advanced with the rest of his team. The other teams were closing in. Soon they would have their prey trapped like rats in a cage.
As Cardin approached the ground levels, he could see light. They were finally above ground, near the exit.
Finally, he was getting sick of fighting in the dark.
As a figure rounded the corner, Cardin double-tapped.
He was not rewarded with the usual scream or meaty impact, but metallic clangs.
A sword-wielding man stepped forward, his red blade shimmering with power. His signature Grimm mask gave away his field position.
"Oh shit," Cardin grumbled and raked the corridor with gunfire. He charged into the room, advancing despite the danger.
They had to get out of the fatal funnel.
Ren stepped forwards beside him, lending in his firepower too as more White Fang emerged from the end of the corridor. A glowing white glyph popped into existence in front of the two men, giving them some cover as they advanced, their bodies bent low. Bullets pinged and cracked off the glyph, across the ceiling, smashing the windows and stitching across the wall.
"Schnee!" The man roared, "I'll have your head, Schnee!"
The speed of the man was mesmerizing. He dodged and weaved in a blink of an eye, his sword a red blur as he swatted bullets out of the air, sending them ricocheting away.
He was getting close. The speed and ferocity was on par with Winter.
Suddenly, Cardin did not fancy his chances against this man in a duel.
But they were not here to fight and die.
Behind him, Winter and Russel had smashed open the window closest to them and had clambered out.
Ozpin was all but thrown out by Russel as he fired his rifle one handed, suppressing the enemy. He could hear Russel cackling, "Not today! Assholes!" as he made his exit.
Cardin patted Ren on the shoulder, as he dove out after his team. Several White Fang had followed their lead, breaking windows and chasing after them in the snow.
Cardin dropped to one knee, and starting firing. Winter and Russel were low on the ground too, shooting as they waited for Ren to move.
There was a red flash.
A thunderous strike sent something barrelling out of the window. Glass shattered, cutting and tearing the figure as he landed in the snow. Bright red blood coloured the snow, as the figure struggled to stand up.
A puff of powder exploded from the man's back, causing him to stumble. Then another shot blew out a chunk of his thigh.
"Oh shit," Cardin said, louder this time.
It was Ren.
Adam Taurus groaned, taking cover behind the wall. Bullets zipped above him, dangerously close. He could feel the entire wall judder with each hit. The rest of the squad was taking cover. Several of them were on the floor, their heads blown open. They were taking too many casualties.
He held his head, pain suddenly overwhelming him. He felt nauseous. Blood ran down his nose, and he coughed, his stomach doing summersaults.
He had gotten close to the pink eyed soldier. The man had actually blocked Adam's blade with his bare hands. The only person that could do that was Cinder Fall, and she was a Maiden.
Adam was then struck twice in the head, and it was only then Adam realized how the man was able to catch his blade.
Aura control.
Had it not been for Adam's own Aura mitigating the damage, he had no doubt his own brains would be splattered cross the hallway.
He hoped he killed that little bastard with his semblance strike.
Blake appeared beside him, looking at him with her black and red eyes. She tilted her head, questioningly.
"I'm alright," he spat out a glob of blood.
Picking up his weapon, he switched it to ranged combat mode.
He popped out, scanning for his prey.
There was a red streak where the soldier had landed. A glowing Beowolf was dragging the still kicking man away to safety as he fired back with his pistol. Another Beowolf was in front of the man, acting as cover as well as pushing him through the thick snow.
Adam took aim, and fired off a shot. The Beowolf took the hit but didn't dissipate. He took another shot, and Adam snarled in frustration as more summoned Grimm materialized and shielded the man.
There was a flash in the snow. There was a resounding ding, and Adam grunted as he pitched back. His head rang like a bell, and his neck hurt from the whiplash. His nose was crushed and his cheeks bruised.
"Fuck," he groaned as he tore off his Grimm mask. It was dented where the bullet had hit.
They still had to kill those people. If he did not succeed, Blake would be taken away from him. He breathed, steadying his hammering heart.
A face loomed over Adam, and he groaned internally. Tyrian grinned as if he was witnessing Remnant's best practical joke. Adam did not need this psychopath looming over him after he was just shot in the face.
"Aw, having a bit of trouble killing a little farm boy?"
"Shut the fuck up, Tyrian," Adam rolled to his back, grabbing his weapons. "Where the fuck did you go?"
"A little hunting, after you rudely interrupted my fun. I thought you White Fang had it all under control." Tyrian sniggered, "Obviously not."
"Then get your ass out there, Tyrian," Adam snarled, "Why did she send you if you are not going to help?"
"Oh, but I am," Tyrian nodded, "Let me show you how it's done."
Winter dragged Ren behind the building, dismissing her summons with a thought.
"I'm sorry ma'am," Ren breathed raggedly, "I fucked up."
The plate had taken the brunt of the attack. It was shattered, cleaved through. Ren had projected all his Aura into protection, and the attack still went through. The wound itself was a deep cut across his chest.
His backplate had saved him from a potentially fatal shot, but the life-threatening wound was the bullet hole in this thigh. Ren was already tying a tourniquet around his leg, gritting his teeth and cursing colourfully with each twist.
"Can you walk?" Winter asked softly, the man was badly hurt, but there was still a firefight going on.
Ren shook his head. "I'll hold them off if I have to."
His eyes suddenly widened. In that instant Winter knew he had detected something.
"Above!" Ren yelled.
She snapped her rifle up, already firing.
Tyrian descended upon the group, cackling, gunfire blazing from his wrist guns.
A white Nevermore soared upwards towards him, cawing in agony as it was shredded by the fusillade. Tyrian twirled in midair, and bisected the Grimm summon on his way down.
The three standing soldiers were already running, weapons alive in their fists.
Winter reached the man first, as he landed. She charged in, her sword flashing overhead. Tyrian's scorpion tail lashed, about to parrying the attack perfectly. At the last second, Winter dropped her stance. She thundered a kick into Tyrians face. His head snapped back, ending his shrill laughter as he caught himself in a graceful handspring.
Winter landed, bringing her glyph shield up. Russel and Cardin darted outwards from both sides. Russel had fixed his bayonet, firing as he came in. Cardin leapt ahead, a roar that cut even above the gunfire.
Tyrian's stinger met him in the chest, breaking and wedging into the ballistic plating. Cardin was picked up from the ground, and hurled straight into Russel. The two men collided with each other in a tangle of weapons and limbs.
Winter was upon Tyrian in a heartbeat. Tyrian weaved aside from the flurry, dodging and leaping back like eel. Despite Winter's expert swordsmanship, none of the attacks connected.
Something white, slower than a bullet, soared towards Tyrian from the corner of his eye. He battered it aside with his tail. To his surprise, it was a snowball. The wounded soldier and tossed a snowball at him.
That brief distraction was all Winter needed. Her sabre finally struck true. It cracked into his the side of his head and skimmed off his Aura. Tyrian wheeled around, following the momentum and answered Winter with his own strike.
His hands, glowing purple with his semblance, tore into Winter's throat. Winter gasped as she choked, the layer of protective Aura instantly dissipating. Winter looked up to see the scorpion tail flashing downwards, right at her throat. She tried to lift up her blade, but she knew she wouldn't be fast enough.
Without warning, Tyrian was smashed aside as a black armoured truck collided into him. Winter recognized her own vehicle. The engines were wildly revving as it skidded across the snow. Bullets punched and clobbered the bodywork as it shielded the team from incoming fire. The door of the truck burst open.
"Get in!" Qrow roared.
Winter looked for Tyrian, but he was gone. She slung out her rifle and starting firing. Cardin had thrown Ren across his back and was bolting towards the vehicle, Russel close behind, almost dragging Ozpin.
Shots whined close, and the wing mirror vanished in a shower of glass. Winter fired her weapon expertly back covering her men's extraction, pitching over figures in the distance with precise shots. Without much ceremony, the 4 men barrelled into the car.
Winter was the last to enter the car. "Go!" Winter threw the car doors shut.
Qrow let go of the clutch and slammed the accelerator.
The engine stalled, and died.
"Are you serious?" Qrow growled at the car, "Are you fucking with me?"
"Brother's fucking dammit, Qrow!" Winter yelled.
"I know I know!" Qrow fumbled with the keys.
The windows cracked and cobwebbed as bullets smacked into them. Cardin threw himself on top of the Auraless Ren, shielding his teammate from the deadly barrage.
The amount of punishment the vehicle was taking felt like it was constantly being punched and kicked around.
The engine sputtered and wheezed, once, twice, then it finally rumbled to life. With an ugly screech of metal, they sped forwards, bullets chasing in their wake. The engine roared unsteadily, and the vehicle slid unsteadily across the icy ground.
The White Fang squad chased after them, grenades detonating too close for comfort, rocking the vehicle with it's blasts. They raced across the main driveway, over the frozen red snow littered with Atlesian dead, the men and women butchered within the first few minutes of the attack. Smoke billowed from Main Operating Base Elysia, and several floors were on fire. In the distance Bullheads and warships were converging on the chaos.
"Where?" Qrow yelled,
"Anywhere but here!" Winter yelled back.
The car rocked with a thump. There was someone on the roof. A constant drumbeat sounded. They were shooting, but the calibre was much too small to penetrate the armoured roof.
"Oh for fuck sake," Cardin cursed, and shifted his rifle across the cramped space, his movements drawing hisses of pain from Ren. The standard Atlas military rifle chambered a much higher calibre.
He fired straight through the roof, the contained gunfire momentarily deafening everyone and almost blowing out Qrow's eardrums.
Daylight poured in through the holes, and a shadow could be seen dancing and weaving. Qrow slammed the brakes, and Tyrian toppled forwards, rolling off the bonnet and under the car.
More thuds, this time from under the vehicle, hammering from the front of the car to back.
The door on Cardin's side suddenly flew open. Tyrian leaned in, coming face to face with Ren.
They looked at each other, recognition and surprise giving them pause.
Ren levelled his pistol.
Tyrian saw the weapon last second, and threw himself off the vehicle. The bullet whizzed past his head, taking off the lock of his braided ponytail.
"Bastard!" Ren screamed, the sudden fit of rage and anger on display so rare it gave his teammates pause. Ren started to scramble, to push Cardin off him as he crawled to the open door, flapping in the wind. It looked like he was about to jump out before Cardin hauled him back in and slammed the door shut.
"Ren! Ren, what the fuck are you doing?" Cardin yelled.
"It was him!" Ren roared in frustration, "Fuck! That was the bastard!"
"Ren!" Winter turned from her front seat, "Stand down, Ren!"
"No! You don't understand! Qrow!"
"What?" Qrow called back, surprised to be suddenly addressed.
"That's the fucker that killed them!" Ren screamed, his voice cracking, tears of anger welling from his eyes, "He killed Nora! He took Jaune-"
Qrow's blood ran cold. He knew the words that were coming next.
"-and he took Ruby!"
AN: That was long. It took a while, but I really wanted to get some fighting and action in. Initially I thought to split it into two chapters, but nah.