AN: Surprise! An update not posted after a few months! The next one will take longer, though. Initially I thought of finishing the entire write up and posting it as one massive chapter, but it was getting ridiculous in length, so have part one.
Anyway, enjoy! Please leave a review!
Storm
0005
Operation Skilful Huntsmen
Schnee Manor
Unmarked vehicles roared to the perimeter walls. Surrounding military and police scrambled to keep the civilians in check. Men and women clad in dark blue burst from the vehicles, hauling ladders and gear.
More gunfire echoed from the Manor. Some of the faunus members of the rescue team could hear the clashing of blades and the laughter of a madman.
The men and women hauled ladders from the vehicles and clambered over the high walls, their movements urgent and quick. Several more ladders were thrown over the wall. Red team began their climb to the upper floors as Blue team fanned out below.
Somehow, Green team was already in position. Distant cameras caught a grainy night image of a team of almost invisible figures clad in black pulling up a brightly coloured Huntress onto the roof of the Manor.
However, the next second, they were gone, blinking from existence as if they never existed.
Explosives were placed and rigged, the teams stacked up, ready to storm in as soon as the order was given.
Unknown to them, they were already compromised.
Amber Tium ducked back down behind the curtains, her Grimm enhanced faunus sight cutting through the night.
"Shit!" Amber cursed. She radioed Adam immediately, "Adam! We got hostiles taking positions outside! Permission to engage?"
"Granted!" The reply came almost immediately. He sounded as if he was in pain, "Tyrian's hostile! I repeat, he's -" The radio went dead.
"Fuck!" Amber snarled. Tyrian has finally shown his true colours, and now the Atlesians were storming the place. When shit hit the fan, it really hit the fan.
Broadcasting across every Black Claw radio, she sent the order, "Bear your fangs and sharpen your claws! They're coming!"
By now the rest of the Black Claws should already be in place, their weapons locked and loaded.
They only needed to meet the enemy, and bleed them dry.
Amber primed a grenade and took in a deep breath. She always knew it would end like this, in fire and blood.
All that's left was to see how many of those Atlesian dogs she could kill.
Amber quietly unlocked the window and pushed it out gently. She rose to her feet, ready to simply drop the grenade down into the unsuspecting Atlesians below.
A single shot lanced into Amber's head, punching through her Grimm mask and into her Aura. The high caliber bullet ricocheted and bounced, trapped between the ballistic mask and Amber's aura.
In a single moment, her Aura had flickered and broke in a flash of red.
The terrorist reeled back, screaming in pain. Clutching her head, she rolled on the floor, howling as black blood pumped from the terrible gash in her head.
"Fuck!" She roared, rolling up, the pain already subsiding. A sniper! She should have known there would be overwatch.
There was a metallic clink, and all of a sudden Amber remembered why she was at the window in the first place.
Desperately, she scrambled for the grenade, finding it in between her legs. She kicked it away as far down the corridor as she could, and dove flat on the ground.
There was a smash of glass, and a howl of pain. A gunshot rolled in from the distance like thunder. Shortly after, the second floor detonated. Glass and wood blew out in clouds of smoke and debris, showering the men below and staggering the team on the roof.
Cloaked by May's invisibility field, Winter knew they were already compromised.
Winter clicked open the team radio and uttered three words. "Go! Go! Go!"
The frame charges detonated.
As Whitley and a small group of students were led up to the dorms, the world shook.
A string of explosions rocked the manor, and Whitley let out a cry of surprise as he fell on the floor.
The White Fang seemed unperturbed, unceremoniously hauling him up and tossing him into a room with several others. Miya was torn from Whitley's grip as they split up the group.
"Move!" The White Fang screamed.
"Mr. Schnee!" Miya cried, grasping with her little fingers. A rifle blocked her way, and she was bundled away with another group of sobbing students.
"Miya!" Whitley shouted as he reached out. The butt of a rifle met his face. Whitley reeled back into the room, clutching a bloody nose. He was about to protest, but staring down the barrel of a rifle made all his spirit evaporate.
There were two terrorists in this particular room, and for a brief moment, Whitley wondered if they were going all be executed here.
"On the floor, all of you." One of the faunus growled at them. Whitley didn't get up.
"Stay low, if you know what's good for you." Said the other Fang, tipping over a table and nodding to his compatriot, "things are going to get loud."
Red Team clambered in through the third floor, guns sweeping the smoking room for any targets that dared present themselves. Bright lances of light cut through the gloom as Blue team rushed through the first floor, a perfect mirror image of Red team.
Unbeknownst to both teams, Winter's team had followed them in, a shimmer in the air.
Amber crouch ran across the corridor. The curtains were drawn, blocking the sniper from taking another shot, but Amber could never be too certain. She needed to link back up with Charles and Duke. She couldn't take another shot like that. She needed to get out of here before the Atlesians came up.
Amber felt the floors tremble and vibrate under the movement of boots. Her enhanced senses told her that they were still far away, and she still had –
Something shimmered in front of her.
The hairs on the back of her neck raised. She brought up her rifle, and let loose a barrage down the corridor.
Did she hit anything? Amber narrowed her eyes and focused on the vibrations. They were close, almost as if they were-
A disembodied boot appeared in midair and sent her rifle flying.
Under May's cloaking field, Russel splattered Amber's brains across the manor walls with a point-blank blast of a shotgun.
Cackling gleefully to himself, he chambered a new shell and put another round into the unrecognizable pulp that used to be Amber's face just to be sure.
"Surprise, motherfucker." Russel chuckled to himself.
May watched as Russel cackle to himself, not even bothering to wipe the black blood sprays off himself.
She didn't need to see his eyes to know the man was enjoying. There was no doubt in her mind that under that balaclava the man was grinning like a psycho.
Then, she heard the others behind her, exhaling hard as if in suppressed amusement.
As the team moved again, May could not shake the nugget of doubt now forming in the back of her head.
Perhaps the other council members were right.
Tyrian laughed as a bullet whizzed past his head. The Atlesians had finally made their move.
He turned around, to see Blake charging towards him.
Tyrian didn't have time to chant the mantra of torment, but that wasn't the only thing in his arsenal.
He spoke a word.
The force of it struck Blake and hurled her back like a rag doll. The floor underneath crumbled and cracked. The wallpaper shredded and flaked.
Adam howled, his red katana slashed the air as he hurtled towards Tyrian.
The boy was good, he had to give him that at least. But, Tyrian didn't want to kill him. Not yet, at least.
After all, he must be shown the full price of disobeying Her Majesty.
"Come now, boy!" Tyrian shouted as he weaved out of the way.
Adam slashed, again and again, missing Tyrian by a hair's breadth each time. Dodging under a decapitating blow, Tyrian sliced his fists upwards, catching Adam in his dented mask and sending it flying into the roof.
A sharp blow of pain exploded behind Tyrian's neck, and he stumbled forwards. Adam grabbed the man by the neck and threw him, over the shoulder and into the ground.
Screaming, Adam stabbed downwards.
There was a flash of red as Adam's semblance screamed to life.
Tyrian rolled aside, and with a flick of his tail, hooked Adam off his feet. He turned, pirouetting gracefully onto his feet in time to stab Blake in the chest as she lunged to protect her master.
The stinger pierced Blake's Auraless form, stabbing deep into her heart. She didn't make a sound but instead made to slash downwards, cutting into his stinger.
With a disdainful sneer, Tyrian flicked her away, smashing her form through the wall with bone-shattering force.
Grimm hybrids won't die from that, but she was becoming a nuisance.
"Blake!"
A slash caught him by the legs, and Tyrian stumbled. Adam leapt up, a blur of red steel. He launched himself towards Tyrian, screaming his fury at the top of his lungs.
Tyrian spat more words, the unnatural pronunciation grated at his own ears, but there was no denying the effect.
Adam was sent flying, rolling to his feet in time to catch the second and third wall of force that slammed into him like a truck. He skidded back, his Aura taking the burn of the verbal assault. The man was shaking, the whites of his eyes red with burst blood vessels.
As Tyrian grinned as his own mouth began to bleed. The faunus took a moment to spit out a shattered tooth.
Adam's shaking sword began to glow red.
Roaring, Adam struck.
A thunderclap shattered the entire row of windows lining the corridor, sending a hail of glass outwards. A red slice of energy split the corridor, cracking the floor in two and leaving a smoking deep gash down the middle.
Tyrian was nowhere to be seen.
As the smoke cleared and the drapes fluttered in the cold night air, Adam scanned for his target. Had he done it? Had he?
Something warm and wet splattered onto the floor.
Adam looked up.
Tyrian hung on the ceiling, his mouth split in a Cheshire grin. Blood was dribbling down his chin and onto the floor. An ugly black gash ran down his exposed chest, and Adam watched in horrid fascination as the wound closed up, knitting together and leaving nothing but thick scar tissue.
The scorpion descended upon Adam, his laughter carrying into the howling Atlas winds. Adam surged to meet him.
But in a split second, Adam realized he wasn't the one being targeted.
As he fell, Tyrian lashed his stinger out, straight into May's face.
May's invisibility field dropped, popped like a bubble. The night vision device exploded onto her face, staggering her back. Aura saving her from a grizzly death.
Russel's shotgun roared, missing Tyrian by a hair as he backflipped with almost impossible grace. The buckshot punched a fist-sized hole in the white wall behind, demolishing a painting of Jacques Schnee.
Winter's team immediately rushed to form a line, the full arsenal of their weapons blazing as their bright flashlights lit up the darkness with harsh white lights.
Adam scrambled for cover, diving through the hole in the wall after Blake as bullets whizzed and cracked past him.
Tyrian's tail battered some shots aside, but against such accurate firepower, he beat a hasty retreat within a heartbeat. He shot up onto the ceiling and leapt onto the walls, gunfire chasing his heels as he skittered away like an insect.
"May! May!" Russel called back, unwilling to shift his gaze off his sights, "you good?"
"Yeah," May grunted, "Fuck! He hits hard."
"That was Tyrian!" Ren snarled, but to his credit, he did not give chase, "He's heading straight for Red Team."
"…and Adam? Was that him just now?" Winter asked.
Ren flipped up his night vision goggles and scanned the building, his emotion vision cutting through the manor walls, "Going in the same direction. They're after each other's throats for some reason."
"Good," Cardin snorted.
More gunshots rang down the maze-like corridors, the muzzle flashes lighting up the dark. They could hear Tyrian's laughter ring above the din of battle as the staccato bangs of gunfire erupted once again.
"Let them fight," Winter said, "Track down the hostages. Ren!"
Ren lifted up his goggles, and blinked. He could see the colours of terror radiating all over the manor.
But, a few signs were close.
"Three souls, in that room near the end." Ren pointed.
The rescue process began.
It was impossible to miss the chaos that erupted from within the manor.
Ilia had a brief flash of hope. So, Winter has not abandoned her after all!
But, it was immediately crushed by the more realistic part of her brain. The White Fang has done something that prompted the assault, and for all she knew every single man, woman, and child she had passed in these halls were dead.
No time to worry about that now, Ilia chastised herself. Hopelessness and despair that had clouded her mind and robbed her of her ability to think, to act. Perhaps it was the brief spark of hope, or the thought of mass slaughter that dispelled her trance.
Standing up, she examined the heating unit and her handcuffs. There was no way she could wrestle herself out of the restraints, or even break them by force.
She has also heard that dislocating one's thumb to escape did not work at all, and she wasn't about to test that theory. She racked her brains for anything she could do, thinking back to her training and raking through her memories for any clue.
Nothing.
"Fuck!" Ilia cursed and pulled hard against the radiator. The metal unit wouldn't budge an inch. "Shit!"
"Ilia."
The sudden voice behind her made her jump.
She tried to spin around but was ultimately yanked back in place by her handcuffs.
Reassuring hands held her in place.
There were only a few people that could sneak up on her without her noticing.
"Winter?" Ilia ventured.
"Yes," Winter grunted, moving in front of her, "now stay still. Ren?"
While they were all dressed in the same anonymous black combat fatigues, but Ilia had seen them enough times to differentiate between them.
Ren moved forward and placed a hand on the metal cuff.
His breathing slowed, and Ilia could feel the cuff heat up as she felt his Aura build up.
The handcuffs shattered like glass.
Ilia rubbed her wrists, "You came for me."
"We're rescuing hostages," Winter corrected.
"Oh," Ilia said. She almost laughed at herself for entertaining the thought that a rescue had been planned for her specifically.
"May?" Winter called out, "Get her and the children and the rest off the premises."
May dropped her invisibility field briefly, suddenly revealing herself and five other students huddled around her. Ilia looked into the eyes of the shaking children that clung to May. They were all faunus, she noted.
"What about Tyrian?" May asked.
Winter eyed the woman. May had almost died a few minutes ago, and it was abundantly clear that she was not ready for this level of danger. Robyn would not forgive Winter if May died here. "Rescue is the priority, Ms. Marigold. Now go."
"I-"
"Now is not the time," Ren snarled, "go!"
Red Team leader Sammy led the team down from the second floor. So far, there had been no contacts, but it was impossible to miss the sounds of battle.
Already, they had secured several children scattered across different dorms. Each time, she had to hope none of the terrorists were hiding among the hostages.
Forming a line, one by one, they manhandled the hostages out of the mansion, almost tossing them to the next man behind. The last man had to sprint, tossing them onto the ground in the Schnee gardens. Police will handle them from there. There was no time for gentleness at all.
Her faunus senses were sharp, her fox ears were upright and alert.
Passing the last child down the line, Sammy counted fifteen children and three adults.
She had done raids in the past with the Special Police. The gangsters and criminals in the Mantle Slums weren't anything like what they were going to face now.
She signaled for the team to breach the door, the last room of this sector.
The breacher, a cat faunus called Steele, kicked the door open and-
Sammy heard the small jingle of a metal pin being pulled.
"Grenade!" She roared, and the team backed away as fast as humanly possible.
The explosion blasted the door off its hinges and destroyed part of the wall. Sammy's faunus ears physically hurt from the blast, and her hearing went away. Smoke filled the corridor, as Red team picked themselves back up.
Doing a quick scan, it seemed that no one was down. She looked inside the room, bracing for the worst, but to her relief, it was empty. No children in there.
"Come on!" she bellowed at the figures around her, "Let's keep going."
But, the men around weren't all part of Red Team. A snarling Grimm mask came at Sammy from out of the smoke and an axe swung at her neck.
Duke screamed as he crunched his axe into the faunus's neck, the blow cutting into the woman's Aura. Around him, Yuma, Charles and Xiao Mei descended upon the stunned Atlesians, weapons flashing and guns blazing.
Sammy backed away, coughing and choking. She leveled her submachine gun and fired, striking Duke in the chest several times before the weapon was cleaved in two with a single blow. He raised his pistol in turn, but Sammy twirled and kicked the weapon out of his hands.
Immediately, Duke barrelled into Sammy, knocking her to the floor. He hacked into the traitorous faunus again and again, and she screamed in pain as her Aura finally gave way. Before he could split her head open, Sammy pulled free her pistol and shot him in the face.
The round cracked into his front teeth, shattering them despite his Aura. Another shot pinged off his mask, and another struck him in the neck, stunning him long enough to be thrown off.
Sammy scrambled back, pistol firing rapidly. This was nothing like the slums of Mantle.
Duke surged forwards, his axe flashing. Sammy howled as her hand disappeared into the darkness. Blood pumped across the floor in massive spurts.
Another hack planted the blade into her chest, and Duke roared in frustration as the axehead wedged itself firmly into Sammy's ballistic plates.
Steele barrelled into Duke, kicking the Black Claw in the jaw. Duke rolled away, cursing and spitting blood from ruined teeth. Steele gritted her teeth and blasted the Black Claw, her gun roaring fire until it clicked empty.
Duke convulsed as his body was stitched by bullets. He felt the hot metal flatten and deform inside his body, he felt his bones shatter and break.
Charles ran up and skewered Steele from behind, his sword ramming through the Atlesian's back and severing her spine. He kept on running until the woman was pinned to the wall like a specimen, screaming all the way.
Charles ripped his sword free, twirled around, and decapitated Steele in a single stroke. The head thudded and rolled into the darkness.
The survivors of Red team had pulled back, trading fire with the Black Claws as they retreated. Xiao Mei lay dead on the ground, half her face missing. No one saw how she went down.
"Damn," Duke coughed.
"Brother!" Charles ran over to Duke, "Fuck! You're hit."
Duke realized that the fight was over, but he managed a grin, "Head's fine. I'll be up and running soon. I think."
"Fuck me," Charles grinned, "they ain't so tough."
Duke snorted. It had been the most intense forty seconds of his life.
He coughed, and black blood splattered all over his hands.
"You alright there, Duke?" Yuma asked, keeping his eye on the corridor, "Come on, if you can move we have to go."
"In a bit." He rolled around to look at the dead Atlesians.
Four of them lay on the ground, but one of them was still moving.
Sammy wasn't screaming anymore, instead, she just clutched her bleeding stump and whimpered. She shot the Black Claws hateful looks.
Duke groaned as he picked up his lost pistol. He aimed it at the girl, but for some reason hesitated.
She looked just like his sister when she was still alive, before Atlas high command fucked her over along with him and everyone in that regiment.
Sammy said nothing, even as she stared down the barrel of a pistol.
Duke closed his eyes, looked away, and pulled the trigger.
Pain exploded in his chest, and Duke screamed as he felt himself lifted off the floor. Dropping the pistol, he clawed at his chest, his mind uncomprehending of where the massive stinger protruding from his chest had come from.
Tyrian ripped Duke in half, showering himself in black Grimm blood as he tossed the corpse aside.
Charles saw the moment Tyrian killed Duke.
Duke had been his brother in more ways than one, and they had struggled through everything life could throw at them for almost two decades.
He just watched his brother die like an animal. Murdered by that psychopath Tyrian.
Screaming in fury and hate, Charles launched himself at Tyrian.
His handgun barked, and Tyrian's head snapped back.
Tyrian twirled, flipping back as he spat out the round he caught in his bloody teeth. Tyrian stabbed his stinger down, impaling Sammy in the stomach. The Atlesian woman choked on her own blood as she tried to scream.
Charles fired again and again, but Tyrian lifted the struggling woman in the air, shielding himself with her armored form. Tyrian charged, cackling wildly with Sammy convulsing on his tail.
Bullets ripped and tumbled through Sammy's body, finally killing her. Tyrian tossed the dead woman aside – sending her crashing into Yuma – before he was upon Charles.
Charles didn't have time to react before Tyrian split the former soldier in two from head to groin with a vicious swing of his wrist blades.
Blood spattered out under pressure. Tyrian opened his mouth and stuck out with tongue as black steaming blood erupted from the Black Claw.
Yuma threw off the dead Atlesian girl just in time to see Charles fall over onto his face.
"Charles!" Yuma bawled in rage.
Without thinking, he ripped his rifle free and fired a burst into Tyrian. Whatever thing Tyrians tail was of, Yuma decided it wasn't natural. The preternatural speed it deflected his bullets was nothing short of uncanny.
Tyrian whirled around onto Yuma, his ghostlike white skin painted dark with blood. It made him blend into the night, only his red eyes and his terrible sharpened teeth were visible.
Yuma was just a normal faunus. He had no Grimm serum pumping through his veins, and he wasn't even Huntsman trained. The animal instincts in his brain screamed one word.
Run.
Yuma scrambled back, unable to get onto his feet. Yuma fired wildly, screaming in both terror and anger.
The magazine clicked empty.
Tyrian lunged.
Adam's boot caught the side of Tyrian's head as his sword deflected the stinger aimed at Yuma's head. Tyrian tumbled onto the ground, then sprang gracefully onto his feet.
Blake was already upon him, her blade slashing across Tyrian's reeling form.
"Get up!" Adam yelled at his friend before leaping into the ferocious melee.
Yuma dropped a magazine and slammed in a new one. Taking one last look at his fallen brothers, he steeled his resolve and ran after Adam.
The tripwire pulled tight, and Raj could hear the pin jingled as it was pulled out of a waiting grenade in the doorway.
There was a dull thump as the entire floor shook. Bits of plaster rained down from the ceiling, and screams of pain echoed through the walls. Raj turned the corner, and let off a burst of fully automatic fire, watching in satisfaction as a blue-clad figure fall onto his back. To their credit, the Atlesians returned fire immediately. The marble floor cracked and puffed in a storm of lead. A bullet struck and ricocheted off his Aura, and he ducked away.
Without looking back, the Claw sprinted back down the corridor.
"Limmy!" He growled into the radio, "Coming in!"
Opening the designated room, nodded to his partner. Stepping over the hostages on the ground, he caught the eye of Whitley Schnee and flashed him a feral grin. The bastard should be scared. He thought he heard the Schnee tell the other children to close their eyes.
"How many?" Limmy asked, wolf ears twitching in anticipation.
"Only saw a glimpse, but seems like standard squad strength." He replied, hunkering down behind cover.
Doors and corners, that's where they always get you.
The Special Police went in loud, blowing open doors and tossing in stun grenades before storming in. They could hear the concussive bangs echoing down the hall, getting close and closer, louder and louder. They could hear the screams and cries of terrified students and teachers, as they were hauled away unceremoniously out of the battle zone.
It would be so easy to launch an attack now, to allow them to scramble to protect the hostages. But no, timing is the key.
The Black Claws waited patiently, ice flowing through their veins.
The enhanced senses of a Black Claws soldier far surpassed that of a faunus. They heard the distant boots slamming on the floor. They felt the vibrations of the heavily armoured men and women coming for them.
They knew where they were coming from, and waited for the right moment to strike.
Limmy felt them right outside the door on the other side of the wall. He signaled to Raj Blackburn, and pointed to the walls.
A few more footsteps, this time right in front of the door.
"They're in here!" Whitley suddenly shouted, "Get away! Get aw-"
A storm of lead ripped through the door and shredded the breacher on the other side.
Limmy whooped and screamed in joy and let rip a fusillade from his chattering machine gun. High caliber bullets ripped and tore straight through the walls and into the stacked-up men and women on the other side.
Cries of pain and screams of terror were lost in the storm of noise. Limmy could smell the freshly spilled blood.
The enemy fired back blindly through the wall, pulling back immediately to avoid further casualties. Wood, stone and glass splintered and shattered. Raj laughed, his cheers joining the crazed incoherent noise elicited by the combat-crazed Limmy.
Whitley and the other children screamed as death snapped its jaws inches above their heads. Whitley threw himself on top of a sobbing boy and yelled, "We're in here! Stop shooting! Stop shooting!"
"Let's fucking go!" Limmy roared, standing up from behind cover, the deafening roar of his machine gun never stopping. Burnt dust filled the air, and his hearing began to waver. Flashing red and blue lights could be seen seeping into the massive holes, and the constant bright fireballs of the weapon illuminated the night.
It was a bright flashing target for Ciel.
A bullet lanced through the smashed window and needled through the hole made by Limmy's indiscriminate fire.
The machinegun saved him. The round punched through the barrel and into the main body in a shower of sparks, the force was still enough to punch Limmy onto the ground and leaving him gasping for breath. It slowed the bullet down enough to not penetrate his Aura.
The brief respite was enough for the Blue Team. A bright light beamed through the holes in the wall, illuminating Limmy's reeling form.
Limmy's Aura burst like a bubble, as he was ventilated thoroughly in the chest. He collapsed, gasping for air as black blood oozed from his body.
Raj emptied a full magazine back into the shining light and raced to his comrade.
The door flew open, and another man peaked in. Several shots glanced off Raj before return fire chased the Atlesian away.
Shooting with one hand, Raj grabbed his friend and began hauling him into cover.
"Close your eyes!" He barked at Limmy.
Almost immediately, a blinding flash of light erupted from the room. Even Ciel winced despite watching from a distance as the man unleashed his semblance.
But, it didn't matter for her. Her own semblance, rapid reaction, slowed her perception of time down to a crawl for brief seconds.
She had the shot.
The specialized Aura penetrator round flattened against Raj's head, testing his Aura. That triggered the miniature detonation that would blast a secondary explosive lance straight past low or weakened Aura.
Raj's head vanished in a shower of shattered bone fragments and blood.
Limmy screamed his friend's name. Black Claw or not, no one was surviving a headshot of that extent. But Limmy? His enhanced physiology was already compensating for the damage.
Black smoking Grimm blood had clotted his wounds, and he felt his strength return as the world turned red. He smelled the anger of the enemy beyond the walls, cloying and almost overwhelming. He tasted the terror of the children near him. Their fear, as sweet as nectar, was on his tongue.
Was this what the Grimm saw? Was this how they felt?
"Come get me, you fucks!" He howled. Grabbing his fallen friend's rifle, he hammered shot after shot into the enemy. He saw another go down for good in a puff of blood, and kept on firing even as the return fire ripped into his arms and legs.
He kept on firing, even as a bullet blew out his knee, sending him crashing onto the floor.
Limmy howled in rage, the feeling of pain blocked out of his mind as adrenaline surged through his veins. Reloading with practiced hands, he continued to fire, pinning down the team on the other side.
There was a crash behind him. Something stormed towards him, big, and full of rage.
Cardin Winchester charged through the wall, brick, and plaster flying off him.
Limmy spun around, his hands still on the trigger. Bullets stitched across the room. Dust, splintered wood and flying papers filled the air along with screams of terror.
There was a sicking wet gristle-crack of impact.
His chest caved in by the impact, Limmy sailed and tumbled, breaking the table behind before hitting the wall. Black blood splattered on the room as he burst apart like a ripe fruit.
Cardin whipped the black gore off his mace as the rest of the team swept the room.
"Clear!" He shouted.
It was an odd thing, Whitley thought, to have a body but not have it respond to you in times of terror. In fact, he barely remembered what had transpired. On reflection, perhaps it was shock that had wormed its way into his overwhelmed mind, or perhaps it was something else.
But he didn't remember much.
A cacophony of noise, and then silence. The next thing he knew, figures were looming over him, hauling and manhandling him without much care. He thought he heard Winter's voice at some point, but he couldn't be sure.
The next thing he knew, he was on the grass outside the manor, with others around him. He looked up at a familiar face.
"Ms. Amitola?" Whitley ventured, before correcting himself, "Ms. Ivo?"
Ilia looked down, blinking in surprise, "Yes. Yes, it's me."
She helped him sit up. Only then did Whitley realize his hands were bound.
"W-what's going on?" Whitley asked, "where am I?"
"You are still in a state of shock, sir," Ilia answered, "confusion is normal, especially after what you have been through."
"I…" Whitley began but stopped. I wanted to ask why his hands were tied but found that he couldn't care less.
He wanted to laugh, at the odd sequence of events that replayed in his mind, but somehow he couldn't. He was still shaking like a newborn animal.
He should be relieved, to be finally free from his nightmare, to be finally safe.
Despite all this, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was all about to go terribly wrong.
Tyrian skittered towards the gym. Gunfire banged after him, skipping off the floor and smashing off the walls.
Three on one. He didn't like those odds. He was sure he could kill that Yuma dog with ease, but Adam and his pet would prove a problem.
Tyrian's eyes darted left and right. The shadow thing would be close by. She would need to hear the mantra of torment in order for it to take effect, and so long as he could hurt the little bitch, Adam would go down just as easily.
Incoming!
His instincts screamed out, and he ducked right as a bullet sailed past his head.
Ciel cursed.
She had seen one of the terrorists flit across one of the windows, and took the shot. Most of the windows had their curtains drawn, but the special police had been marking the corridor by opening the curtains whenever they could.
She did not know if she had hit the target from the darkness and the distance, but she was prepared to do a follow-up shot if required.
He couldn't have gotten far, if he survived.
Slowing down her breathing, Ciel waited.
"Mirror 5 to Mirror 1," Ciel sent, "hostiles heading to the gym, 1st floor, left-wing."
"Moving to intercept," came the reply, "we're close, check your fire."
As Russel peaked around the corner, Tyrian was waiting for him.
The faunus dashed past Russel, right under his shotgun, and threw himself into the team behind, wrist blades flashing into Ren and Cardin.
A strike tore into Ren's leg, ripping the black uniform even as the strike met hard Aura. Cardin kicked out, the sole of his boots flying off as he deflected the blow. Winter parried the stringer strike with the barrel of her submachine gun and fired shot point-blank into Tyrian's back.
The force floored Tyrian, but he rolled back around the corner as the floor exploded in a barrage of gunfire. As he sprang to his feet, Tyrian caught the eyes of the soldiers he was fighting.
Their eyes looked like his, much to his delight. They were almost the same breed of people.
Russel racked in a new slug and fired off another round, catching Tyrian in the shoulder.
Riding the momentum, Tyrian wheel around let off a fusillade. Bullet shells clinked and sang as it bounced off the floor.
Russel didn't even flinch in the face of the storm of lead, letting them spatter harmlessly against the wall he was behind. Instead, he crouched. Ren peaked out, and let off several shots in return.
Tyrian swatted them away like insects, before he ducked, swinging his wrist blades up.
Blake landed on her feet, black blood oozing from across her belly. She launched herself at Tyrian, ignoring the grievous injury that almost disemboweled her.
There was a metallic clink between their feet. A grenade rolled between them. A smiley face with crossed-out eyes had been squiggled on in yellow stared up at the two fighting faunus.
The hallway exploded.
The floor shook as hot shrapnel whizzed and hissed past the corner. Smoke-filled room, obscuring sight in an already dark hallway.
"Tough bastards," Cardin sniffed.
"Please tell me the bastard's dead," Russel groaned as his ears rang. He shook his head clear.
"Nope," Ren replied as he slapped in a new magazine, "more contacts inbound."
"Get on line!" Winter barked, and the men leapt to obey.
Adam felt the explosion before he rounded the corner.
"Blake!" He called.
His Aura screamed.
A hail of gunfire tore up the hallway. From the gloom, he saw four muzzles flashes. He brought up his sword to bear, slapping away one, two, three, four bullets. A round ricocheted off the ground and into his knee, another bounced off his hand's Aura, rendering it suddenly numb.
Even he couldn't deflect everything. With a roar of frustration, he dove back into cover.
Yuma leaned out and let off a small burst before a round caught him in the mouth. Adam saw his friend reel, and Adam dragged the man back before he could get himself killed.
Spitting out blood and shattered teeth, Yuma nodded thanks to Adam.
"Fuck!" Adam roared, blindly firing a shot around the corner, "Shit!"
The damned Atlesians! They were just here to kill them all.
…and why wouldn't they? After attacking them on their home ground twice within a decade, and now holding hundreds of people hostage, why would they not?
"Blake!" He called after the darkness, his voice lost in the cacophony of battle, "Blake!"
But Blake was too far away, hunting Tyrian like Adam had ordered her to.
Only this time, she will become the hunted.
Tyrian dove out the window as the world exploded, fizzling purple as his Aura finally shattered.
He landed on his back as glass rained down upon him like glistening blades. Among the shining shards, was his next prey.
Blake dove down upon him, a barely visible blur in the darkness.
Tyrian turned, swinging his tail out and smacking Blake aside with bone-shattering force, sending her crashing through the brickwork of the ground floor.
Twitching his head to the left, his ear vanished in a puff of black blood. Thunder rolled in the distance a millisecond after.
The pain was exquisite. After this is done, Tyrian swore to himself he could hunt down that sniper and flay their flesh from their bones. He heard shouts of alarm, and as he turned back he saw rows of white-clad Atlesian soldiers advancing upon him.
It took all his will not to throw himself against them, but he had more worthy prey.
He dove in after Blake.
Tyrian jinxed and weaved as the window shattered. The walls exploded behind him in showers of plaster and brick as the sharpshooter tried to nail him. A barrage joined in on the effort as the Atlesians outside lent their firepower.
The average Atlesian soldier was nothing. Less than worms unworthy of his attention. But, that sniper was good, Tyrian was sure any lesser man would have met his end the moment he entered the shooter's sights.
Snap crack! Another miss, as a bullet snarled narrowly past his skull, enough for him to feel the supersonic boom with each shot. Tyrian giggled feeling adrenaline coursing through his veins.
Tyrian knew he couldn't stay out in the open forever. Ducking into a room, he let out a harsh bark of laughter as another bullet punched into the wall where his head had been.
Books surrounded him. A two-level room, its walls filled with knowledge, and the area below lined with rows and rows of shelves. He was in the Schnee library, Tyrian realized.
The shattered moon shone majestically through the window, and Tyrian took a moment to take in the sight.
The shattered moon, a proof of the betrayal that had befallen upon her Majesty…and the mark of her eventual ascension.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
She was here in the room with him, just waiting to strike. If Adam's pet still had retained any free will at all, she would know to run.
But alas, bound to Adam's will and his command, she had pressed on. Such a pity.
Tyrian began to chant the mantra of torment. He was Salem's blade, Her executioner, and the instrument of Her will. He was gifted such knowledge as a reward for his loyalty.
Tyrian had experienced the mantra of torment once, as a demonstration of his devotion. He would never forget the sensation. It was the lick of ten thousand blades that flayed and flensed every muscle fiber in the body. It was the kiss of a billion white-hot needles that stabbed and ripped out the nervous system.
It was so incomprehensible, Tyrian found his faith and love had wavered in that moment of weakness. But, he had ascended after that, into this blessed form.
The air was suddenly charged with energy, and in that split moment, the veil of unlife was torn from the remnants of Blake's soul.
A scream pierced the darkness, as something came tumbling down from the ceiling, crashing into the bookshelves and scattering paper in the air. Tyrian could hear the black Grimm blood boiling and hissing from where he stood.
There you are.
"Those blessed by Her gifts," Tyrian began as he stalked towards the thrashing form of his prey, "only to spit it back to Her face deserved nothing but agony and excruciation."
Blake did not answer. She could not answer. She looked up at him, and Tyrian saw what he was looking for. Her eyes were not blank, but brimming with life, with pain.
"I would visit a million deaths onto your soul and subject you to countless eons of torment and humiliation," He tilted his head, "but of course, you had no choice in the matter, did you? You were nothing but a puppet from the beginning. Nothing more."
Seizing Blake by the throat, he lifted her up and brought her close to his face. He could feel her struggle, even as agony locked her limbs, even as she gasped wordlessly in torment.
Tyrian grinned, licking his cut tongue over his sharped teeth, "Oh but I have a greater purpose in mind for you. You should be honoured, Blake Belladonna. This sacred ritual has not been performed in almost ten thousand years. "
Tyrian bared his teeth, "But first, let us take return that blessing. Shall we?"
He bit in deep, and Blake's screams began anew.
Ilia dragged a moaning soldier out onto the grass as May set ushered another group of children to the medics. An irregular stream of children was being rushed out of the building from areas already secured. Several soldiers and policemen had joined in to aid in the effort of evacuation.
A rabbit faunus and another human came running towards Ilia, a stretcher between both of them.
"We'll take it from here," the human woman told Ilia, "Come on Velvet. On three…"
The man screamed in pain as he was put on the stretcher. The grass was glistening with his blood.
Ilia watched as they carried the wounded soldier away. She felt like she should do something to help.
"How many more?" Ilia shouted out, "May!"
"I don't know!" May snapped back, "Radio is suddenly acting up. I had to turn it off."
All of a sudden, Ilia felt a surge in the air. It was difficult to describe, but it was evident she wasn't the only one that felt it.
The crowd had lapsed into a brief moment's silence. Some of the children began crying anew. Even May had stopped in her tracks for a few moments, before pressing on.
"I'm going back in," May growled as she loaded up her crossbow.
"Wait! I don't think-"
As Ilia watched as the woman vanished under her semblance. Perhaps the best course of action was to wait it out after all.
A crow circled overhead, cawing, as if it was waiting for something to happen.
Lightning flashed overhead as storm clouds gathered. The wind began to pick up as snow began to fall. Ilia watched in fascination, reaching out her hand to catch a snowflake. How odd, that rare thundersnow would roll into Atlas at this moment in time.
A few seconds later, the sirens began to wail.
As thunder rolled through the streets of Atlas, the sirens screamed their banshee's cry. The fascination of the rare weather phenomenon was quickly crushed when the citizens recognized the siren's call pattern.
Grimm.
Clover slammed his fists on the radio, "Piece of shit!" He snarled.
Of course, the negativity would spill out as soon as the operation began, and of course, the radio net had to die before that moment. He couldn't blame Qrow for this, because he was not even here. That meant it wasn't luck.
It was deliberate enemy action.
The only comforting knowledge is that, while the Atlas army was woefully underprepared for war against fellow living beings, the same could not be said against the true enemy, Grimm.
There were measures in place for these exact situations. Within a minute Atlas guns would be covering the skies, within five minutes Atlas paladins and troops would be in combat-ready condition ready to meet any threat. He was but a small cog in the Atlas defense machine, so he shouldn't worry about that at least.
But the thundersnow might prove a problem.
Clover slowed his racing mind down. He needed to think and to trust his instinct. His semblance was speaking to him. He was needed down there, down by the manor. With the radio net down, he might as well.
Standing up, he grabbed his weapon. The men around looked at him, puzzled and stunned by this outburst.
"I'm heading down," he said, "continue to monitor the situation. Inform me when the comms are back on."
"Damn." Ciel cursed softly, taking her eyes off the scope.
A snowstorm had suddenly swept through Atlas in a sheet of white. Her visibility was cut, and she couldn't provide adequate sniper support from here.
"Mirror 5 to Mirror 1, come in," Ciel said into the radio.
Static met her ears.
"Mirror 5 to Mirror 1, come in. Requesting permission to enter the Manor."
More static. She flinched as the radio suddenly screeched.
For a moment, it sounded like the screams of agony. For a moment, she heard herself.
Ciel was back in the tormenter's chambers again. She had tried to not scream, she really did. But there was only so much pain a human soul could endure before it broke, even if the body broke first.
But no, Ciel was back in Atlas. Her tormentor may still be out there, but the Legion had come for her, as they promised.
No man left behind...
Shaking her head, Ciel rolled down her mask and snapped of the optics on her rifle. The long barrel would impede her in the close confines of urban warfare, but she needed to be with the team. She would not leave them to fend for themselves.
The radio was dead.
Winter thought she heard weeping coming from the radio net before static filled the air.
She thought she heard Weiss weeping.
A clap of thunder roared, and Winter almost snapped her firearm to the sound.
For the first few seconds, Winter had thought there were more explosions outside but frowned when she saw snow pouring down from the heavens.
In a brief lapse of focus, her mind was fascinated by the sudden arrival of thundersnow. She had only encountered it once in her life in this very hallway.
A flash of lightning, and Winter stopped. The team skidded to a halt immediately, taking positions and covering angles.
"Captain?" Russel hissed, "Ma'am?"
Winter shook her head, blinking. For a moment, she thought she saw Weiss- at least, what Weiss had looked like when she was ten years old. Winter thought she had seen Weiss cowering against the wall, her tearful eyes shining with the lightning storm raging outside.
Winter snapped out of it. Only two seconds had passed, "Ren, with me. We're cutting them off."
They ran.
Their boots pounded onto the floor, as they sprinted, never looking back.
"Come in!" Yuma screamed into the radio, "Raj! Limmy! Anyone! Fuck!"
They were alone. They were the only ones left alive.
It hurt Adams pride that they were running like cowards, but he didn't see any other choice. He needed to get to Blake.
But where was she? Surely that grenade wasn't enough to kill her, right?
Doubt, poisonous and insidious, crept into his mind.
No…no no no! Not again! He will not lose her again!
"What do we do?" Yuma shouted as they ran. The gunfire had stopped, but there was little to no doubt the Atlesians were close behind, "What the fuck do we do?"
"Blake…"Adam began,
"Fuck Blake!" Yuma snarled, "She's dead, and we will be too if we don't do something!"
"I-" Adam began. He was at a loss. His mind was racing, trying to think of a solution to this deathtrap. For the first time in many years, he felt cornered. He felt like he was back on the floor, the heat of the brand closing in on his face.
Only this time, it wasn't a piece of heated metal, but an angry kill team.
The team was already dead, Adam realized, and he was about to join them soon.
Bright beams of light lit up the hallway. Shadowy figures blocked their path. Another team of Atlesians.
"Contact!" someone roared.
They cut through the manor, through the large chambers and halls. "Through the library," Winter said. She didn't need to explain. Ren simply obeyed. On the other side of the manor, Cardin and Russel were hot on the White Fang's heels.
Outside the door, Winter felt her Aura levels spike. Ren looked at her, the bulbous vision goggles on his helmet whirred and clicked.
He sensed it too.
"Aura levels?" Winter asked.
"Low, can't keep using my sight," Ren said. The constant use of his semblance had drained him of his Aura. Tracking down 150 children scattered through the manor was very Aura intensive.
Winter nodded, taking point. She tapped on her helmet with her fist. Ren flung open the library door, and Winter stormed in, light flashing. Ren was hot on her heels, covering her blind angle.
The smell that hit them was strong enough to feel physical. Winter and Ren gagged, the reek choking their lungs and lashing at their eyes. The smell became a taste as soon as they instinctively opened their mouths to curse.
Then, through their night vision, they saw it.
"By the Brothers," Ren hissed, "Blake!"
In a clearing on the ground, lay Blake Belladonna, or at least, what remained of her. Ren resisted the urge to run across the room to his friend, but iron discipline held him in place.
It was quite clear she was dead.
"Switch to thermal, Ren." Winter said.
"I-" Ren hesitated. Then nodded. His world vanished in a blur of colour, mercifully blotting out all detail.
There was no need for Ren to look upon the ruined form of his former friend. It was one thing to be prepared to kill, but it was another to gaze upon the surgically butchered remains of someone he knew.
Winter took a glance at Blake's decapitated head, the only thing left recognizable. Oddly enough, it was not locked in a death scream like Winter would have imagined. Instead, it was a mask of peace, as if she had died in her sleep.
But, for what purpose? Winter's eyes fell on the intricate writing in blood. It looked like a ritual, and it was something that only the likes of Ozpin could understand.
All of a sudden Blake's head jerked upwards into the air, something was tugging her long raven hair.
Winter and Ren snapped their guns up, the light illuminating a crouching form of Tyrian.
"You're too late," he whispered, holding the head of Blake Belladonna as he hung it on his belt. Black blood still dripped from the stump. "It has already begun."
He was on top of a bookshelf, his deathly pale skin was now completely black, smeared with blood. His red eyes almost seemed to glow. His fingers were now long and ended with bony talons. In that moment, he truly looked like a creature of Grimm, like a variant of the Apathy Grimm. Around Tyrian's wrist, was a little black bow. He stroked the cheek of the woman he had butchered and hummed.
"In a few momen-" Tyrian began.
The Legionnaires didn't let him finish. They opened fire, lighting the night up with the roar of their guns.
Adam barrelled into the closest room he could find before gunfire rained down the corridor.
Screaming met him. He looked around realizing this was one of the rooms with hostages.
Yuma was already in, his eyes wide with animal desperation.
"Shit shit shit!" Yuma snapped, "they'll kill us! They'll fucking kill us!"
Adam knew that. He looked around at the children now scrambling back in fear. Some of them had begun to weep. He was looking for something, anything, to tip the odds into their favour.
"Yes…" Yuma nodded, following Adam's gaze, "Yes. That's one way."
"Yuma?"
Yuma snatched up a child and hauled her to her feet. It was a small rabbit faunus, no more than seven years old. She whimpered as Yuma hauled her into his arms as a shield.
"Yuma!" Adam snapped, "What are you doing?"
"They are gonna kill us, Adam!" Yuma screamed, his shaking hands clawing out a grenade from his pocket, "If we don't do this then-"
The door burst open.
Cardin was through the door first, and his heart almost stopped.
Russel stormed in from behind, weapon up.
"Hold fire!" Cardin screamed, "Hold your fucking fire!"
The bat faunus, Yuma, was holding Miya like a shield with one hand. In the other, he spotted the telltale glint of a grenade. The room was full of hostages, Cardin counted at least twenty at first glance.
Miya...why did it have to be Miya?
Everyone was flat on the floor, some were sobbing, others were bawling.
"Drop her! Drop the girl!" More masked men stormed in, their bright flashlights illuminating the desperate mad man waving a grenade around.
"Fuck you!" Yuma screamed back, his voice hoarse, "Adam! Go!"
The White Fang leader seemed to hesitate. He began to move, but Cardin shifted his aim. Yuma stepped in front, holding Miya up by the throat against his body.
"Yuma! Stop this!" Adam snarled, much to Cardin's surprise. "It's done! It's over!"
"Fuck that!" Yuma roared back, "I'm not going back to the prison mines! I'm not going to live like a chained dog, a caged animal, ever again, you hear me you Atlesian fucks? I'll take them all with me if you try!"
"Yuma!"
"Fuck sake, Adam! GO!" Yuma roared, "I will not let us live as property ever again! Go!"
Miya seemed catatonic, frozen, and limp. Cardin felt his blood boil with the fury he had never felt before. What the hell did they do to her? He felt his hands shake. He wouldn't risk taking a shot right now.
This was his little girl. His little Miya.
Adam hesitated. He opened the window, and looked back, "Goodbye, brother." He jumped out.
Russel waved his hands, "Squad, With me!"
The others hesitated, but slowly edged out of the room. Russel backed out with them, but not before giving Cardin a look.
They caught each other's eyes, behind their vision goggles.
Turning his attention back, Cardin growled. "Drop her."
"Back off!" Yuma screamed, "I'll do it! I fucking swear!"
The terrorist held the grenade up high, his hands shaking wildly. The pin was out. All it would take was for him to let go.
Tyrian flipped back, disappearing behind the shelves. Ren and Winter tracked his fall, their bullets tearing through books and wood, kicking up and showering the library in scrap paper and sawdust.
They could hear his cackling as he shot back. A storm of small caliber rounds shredded the shelves, peppering and chipping away at their Aura's with alarming speed.
Ren and Winter dodged, both going separate directions. They ran down the aisles, catching glimpses of Tyrian, guns chattering as they moved. Stray bullets bit and bounced off Aura, slowed by the thick wood and book, flattening themselves and tumbling occasionally into their intended target.
Click click click. The sound of firearms clicking empty simultaneously echoed through the library, somehow louder than shooting itself.
Tyrian kicked out, toppling an entire section on top of Ren. Letting his submachine gun dangle on a sling, Ren stamped his feet down, taking a stance, and struck out with both his palm.
Pink Aura flared in the darkness, as the bookshelf cannoned itself back into Tyrian, flattening him on the shelf behind. Tyrian roared as thick books toppled and crashed onto him.
A heartbeat later, the bookcase detonated in a shower of scrap and paper. Tyrian leapt out, his eyes glowing purple as his semblance hissed to life. Ren drew out Stormflower and fired, fully automatic. Somehow, impossibly, Tyrian twisted in midair away from the barrage.
Winter dashed in, her sword skewering Tyrian in the side all the way through before he could land. Twirling, she ripped the blade from him as his body flew over Ren's head and crashed into the wall.
Tyrian's Aura shattered for the second time tonight but he didn't even take a moment to stay down. He jumped up, and Winter growled as his wounds simply closed up and healed in a puff of black smoke.
Tyrian was definitely another breed of Black Claw, Winter thought, or was he even enhanced in the same way at all?
Bullets lanced into Tyrian's skull as Ren fired. The man pitched back, riding the momentum into a handspring high up onto the second floor. Winter whipped out Due Process and added her firepower. But, Tyrian was like smoke, weaving through shots with impossible reaction speed or simply slapping away the rounds with his tail.
He vanished up away in the darkness.
"Reloading," Ren said, slapping in a new magazine for his pistol. Winter did the same after her subordinate was finished.
"Aura?" She asked.
"Holding," Ren said, drawing out his bayonet crossing it under his pistol hand, "He should be dead by now. He should be fucking dead."
"Focus!" Winter snapped. But, Ren was right. Black Claw or not, the man should be dead as soon as Ren put a bullet into his skull.
They covered each other, back to back, their guns sweeping up and down, their blades ready. Winter's saber edge glinted in the moonlight as black smoke misted from the steel.
They cycled through the different views on their goggles, searching for any movement, or blur or movement, or heat. Winter knew that Tyrian was still around, her Aura told her as much. The subconscious mind was screaming at her to be careful, and years of combat had told Winter to listen to that instinct.
Something skittered on the edge of her vision, and she snapped her aim towards it. A snigger on the other side, echoing around in the darkness. Ren snarled and fired.
It struck true.
Tyrian leapt out, shrieking. The sound wasn't natural, and the air buzzed with power as he descended upon the Legionnaires.
Winter felt her blood run cold and her limbs lock as she turned to meet the threat. Ren's usually unerringly accurate fire whipped past Tyrian's head, skinning the man's cheek. Then, he was upon them, his talon blades flashing and savaging the two.
Winter cut and parried, banging out point-blank blasts into Tyrian when Ren wasn't in the way. Ren mirrored her actions, cutting and stabbing while weaving aside from Tyrian's deadly talons.
For a few seconds, they were locked in a dance of blades. A blow tore into Ren's arm. A strike ripped a hole in Winter's Aura. A bullet blew out one of Tyrian's ribs. A slash cut through Tyrian's thigh.
Tyrian's stinger struck downwards into the top of Ren's head, Ren jinxed back, taking the blow in his shoulder instead. His Aura shattered explosively in an attempt to deflect the lethal blow.
Winter hacked her sword upwards, taking the entirety of Tyrian's nose away he dodged backward.
With a roar, Winter drove forwards, her blade flashing into Tyrian's neck. The stinger came down, and knocked the blade downwards, sending it spearing through Tyrian's chest. Winter continued her charge, pinning him to the wall. Tyrian coughed as he tried to laugh
Winter tried to tear her blade out, but Tyrian gripped onto the blade, slicing his hands and trapping it in his chest and in the wall behind.
There was a click, as Winter realized her mistake.
Tyrian cackled as his wrist cannons roared to life.
A storm of point-blank shots slammed into her, stitching up across her ballistic plate, her chin, her stomach and her arms. Winter shrieked as her Aura trembled and broke. She tried to summon up a glyph barrier, but her Aura was gone.
The madman surged forwards, ripping himself away from Winter's sword and hurling himself towards her. Winter reeled, emptying her revolver into Tyrian in a desperate attempt to kill him. Bloody holes exploded on Tyrian's back as the fat round tumbled and tore through his body.
But he didn't seem to care. It was as if he was immune to pain.
Howling, Tyrian ripped into Winter, talons flashing.
"Your screams," Tyrian cackled, "let me hear you sing!"
Bloody gashes opened up on Winter's arms as she tried to protect herself, soaking her black sleeves in blood.
Tyrian was thrown aside when Ren tackled him, denying him the kill.
"Worm!" Tyrian screeched. Ren was lifted off his feet and tossed into the wall with such force it cracked the brickwork.
As Ren slid down the wall, stunned.
Tyrian slashed downwards, his talons flashing.
Blood, splattered across the wall.
Ren screamed.
Winter snatched up her submachine gun and sent half a magazine into the back of Tyrian's head. Tyrian stumbled, turning and blocking his face with his hands as it caught a barrage of bullets.
A supersonic boom cracked through the confined space. A round, much large and deadlier than the small caliber fired by submachineguns, lanced into Tyrian's outstretched hand and into his face.
The force knocked the man back, and for the first time, Winter heard him howl in pain.
Tyrian rolled, half his jaw missing. To Winter's surprise and frustration, he was still alive. Tyrian scurried away out of the library, dripping black viscera as he ran. Winter emptied her magazine after him.
Ciel chambered a new round in her bolt action rifle. "Captain!" she called out.
Winter nodded. Ciel had her covered.
"Ren!" Winter yelled as she ran towards the man.
Ripping off the destroyed vision goggles and throwing them on the ground, Ren gasped, taking in deep ragged wet breaths. His face was torn into a bloody mess. The back of his helmet was shattered from the impact on the wall, and the front of it bore deep scars.
The man turned to look at Winter. His one remaining pink eye was dilated with adrenaline while the other was a weeping red mess. Winter could see his shattered teeth and bits of bone protruding from the torn flesh. Ren tried weakly to take off his helmet, but his hands were fumbling.
Pink flashes of Aura flickered across his skin as they locked eyes.
"Shit-…" he gurgled, before slumping on the ground.