Hello everyone! How are you doing? I hope you are all fine.

I am finishing my moving tomorrow and, since I may not have internet for a few days now, decided to upload one day earlier than planned. Thus, chapter 126 is here and as always I hope you enjoy it!

Thanks a lot for following/ favoring/ reading the story so far! You are all awesome!

See you all next week in chapter 127. Until then, be well and have fun!

At Antares' top floor, at the end of a short corridor and separated by the rest of the facility with a small flight of stairs, was the observation area.

It was a rather spacious room. A large glass dome covered its right half, towering above the scientists and their state of the art computers that performed all of the planetary calculations on a daily- and nightly- basis.

The left one was totally devoted to the massive telescope that observed the stars of Remnant; the largest one in Vale and second largest in the world, reaching up to 11 meters through the wide open left rooftop part.

Or at least that would have been the case up until a couple days ago. Now, the large telescope stood silent, acting only as a tall anchor for the green pillar of eldritch light to climb over its surface and reach up to the skies.

The computers were all shut down, horribly vandalized. Runes of ancient power were either carved on them with jagged tools or painted in crimson blood, glowing and filling the air in unholy power as if they had found a new purpose in their existence.

As for the staff... anyone who hadn't been used as a medium for the large protective barrier surrounding the observatory, had been tormented and butchered in the most meticulous and effective way by Bistre Woodrock.

Their blood had been carefully collected as the man had tried to gather as much as possible while they were still alive. Their body parts had been neatly and orderly placed around to act as focal points for the ceremony. It was a truly abhorrent sight to form a magic conduit of bloodied and defiled human parts, some of them still having pieces of their former clothing attached on them. Bistre didn't mind; or at least not enough to be deterred by it.

In the middle of the room, surrounded by six layers of magical circles, was a large green fire that cackled in evil power, waving with unearthly malice despite the apparent lack of wind, dying the world in its sinister colors.

The empty, lifeless eyes of severed heads now covered in rune-filled bone masks stared at the fire. Alien magic was reflected in their glass-like gazes that were dyed green from the miasma rising from the fire to the pillar.

Standing a few meters by the fire, wearing a golden-white circlet around his head and his Berengel talisman on his neck, was the brown-haired man clad in his robes, his bearded face reflecting the abhorrent light.

Unlike his usual stoic demeanor, however, a satisfied smile had formed on his lips. It was unusual for the emotionless man, but he had a fairly good reason; he was staring at the culmination of all his hard work after all.

He rubbed his beard, his deep brown eyes narrowing in glee. Everything had gone well; extremely well if he wanted to be honest. From the very beginning until this moment, all his pawns had played their part perfectly.

If not for Cherry's blunder in Cornfield, he would still have Azure on his side as well and RWBY would be rotting dead in the rubble, but it didn't matter in the end. Adapting to circumstances was one's key to victory.

Not that it made him less infuriated at the fox girl's antics. She had way too much of Silk's teachings instilled inside her it would seem. It truly was a pity; if he had been the one to raise her first, then maybe he could-

Bistre shook his head. Wishful thinking helped no one. It was not wishing for things that brought him here- it was doing the things he wished to on his own.

He turned around, the green sparks highlighting the shadows of his face. He moved to the other side of the room, and took out a small wooden box; a small rectangle bound in black runes, pulsing with an eerie aura.

He still remembered Silk's face when he had asked him about the blood-soaking technique. The elder man had narrowed his eyes at him before he had started explaining.

"Blood-soaking is an old practice, Bistre" the cultist had told him. "It is the art of taking clothes from a victim that suffered a torturous, brutal death and infuse them by soaking in blood of others who shared a similar fate."

"For what purpose?" his younger self, full or eager curiosity had pushed the man. "Blood is the essence of life; therefore contains a significant and valuable amount of one's life force. That is, of course, magical energy."

Younger Bistre had stood by, enchanted by the simple and effective way of utilizing this particular method as Silk continued his explanation.

"People who were tortured or suffered a brutal, untimely death carry the weight of tragedy with them. For reasons unknown to me, their life force is stronger than it would be without the events that ended their life.

The technique is simple in its core; you use an item or possession of them. Anything is fine as long as they had it on them when they died and it has absorbed their blood; then you bind it in runes to preserve decay and rot.

Afterwards, you periodically soak the item in blood of others who have died in a similar manner. The ritual is not complex, but it requires a full moon to properly function. After that... you just keep doing it until you reach the level you need. They make excellent components for rituals."

"It sounds really fascinating, Silk." "It's not that effective though. It needs a large amount of people to perform it; you have to be around when they die and gather their blood." The old fox had then stared at him intensely.

"The common practice of old was for the cultists to grab and torture the victims themselves; but our order has long abolished the path of sacrilege for the sake of power. Do you understand?" he had asked the young man.

Bistre took out three small pieces of fabric from the box. They were filled in blood, soaked and dripping with magical energy. The magic was so well done that he could still see the green color of the fabric underneath them.

His eyes fell on the broken Haven Academy insignia hanging from one of the scraps. He touched it and felt the power shock his fingertips. A choir of tortured, horrified dying screams filled his ears for a brief moment.

It was worth digging into the Magenta family grave to get these. As I expected, fifteen years of soaking blood into them has created fantastic catalysts. He picked them up and walked towards the fire.

I understood very well, Silk you old fool. I understood that I had to keep a safe distance from you while I was making my preparations. He turned and let his eyes fall on a green-lit severed head staring at him in agony.

He smiled, an alien hue adorning his face, and threw the scraps into the fire. Now all he had to do was wait for the unholy flames to consume the materials and provide their magic to the rest of his ritual before he began.

As he saw the green sparks eat away at the insignia, his mind drifted. It was only for a few moments, but he remembered a long-distant memory of his younger days. A memory of happiness- and soul wrenching pain.

Ah, yes he thought, staring the green fire it was spring back then as well, wasn't it? He sighed. It had been more than twenty years, but he still remembered; the joy, the affection... the tormented screams of agony.

-o-

12th March, 63

Somewhere in Mistral Countryside

"And I am telling you again, Thomas" the purple-haired girl with the braids smiled. Her bright, white teeth were gleaming in the morning sun as she kept preaching about the need for huntsmen to work out in a daily basis.

Her name was Nadia Magenta. A third-year student in Haven Academy, she was one of the most popular girls in the school, with her shining blue eyes, her punk-style magenta hair and her slender figure wrapped in a risqué set of multicolored clothes that matched her outgoing personality.

Next to her was a young man with a clean shaved face, medium build and long, rich chestnut hair in casual outdoor pants and cloak. He had tired-looking eyes and a pair of slightly plump cheeks currently tinged pink-red.

Thomas Umber, huntsman of Haven and partner of said girl, tried his best to not blush as he eagerly listened to her blabbering about her new topic. They walked side by side in the sunny road, behind their teammates.

"Oh come on Nadia" a tall boy holding a long spear, with hair a lot similar to the magenta-colored girl, joked. "I know Thomas loves to listen to you, but you have to let the poor guy rest for a while."

An equally tall and muscular boy next to him, with equally bright purple hair, albeit a lot longer, readjusted his gun on his back "let them be; if Thomas can't understand how foolish he acts, it's his own problem."

The boy's eyes darkened and he glared at his teammate. "Mind your own business, Howard" he hissed in an angry manner. Nadia chuckled, but the two men ahead sighed "be a little more social Thomas, at least to us."

"Stop aggravating me so much, Albert and I will" the boy replied. "I wish you stopped taking it all so seriously." "Get off my back, I have no need to be told that; nor I care" he replied. "Oh come on guys" Nadia complained.

Nadia... my partner. My first love. The only person out of the whole Haven that didn't care about me being a little too... sensitive. We formed a team with her and her twin brothers and had three wonderful years together.

Thanks to her, I could ignore everything the world threw at me; arrogant teachers, asshole classmates... she also helped me suppress the urge I had to react violently every time someone annoyed me out of the blue.

She also was the only one who didn't ask about my strange semblance and its ability to paralyze Grimm. Thanks to it, we had succeeded in tons of missions. I felt really proud of it and honed it every chance I got.

The team reached the plateau and Albert pointed with his spear towards a small opening in the mountains. Thomas readied his punching dagger and Nadia took out her harpoon. "The bandits must be camping there."

"I somehow have a bad feeling about this" the brown-haired man said. Nadia winked at him "everything is going to be fine; as long as we do what we must." And be together the boy thought. One of these days, I will...

They had moved slowly and silently using the natural terrain advantage. A band of low-tier bandits like this would never pose a threat, but it was in Thomas' nature to be meticulous and he demanded that of his team too.

It turned out it was the right thing to do. The information they had was so wrong, Thomas wondered who the imbecile that provided it was. As they ran through the surprisingly well-armed bandits' camp, he screamed that he would have their informant thrown in prison for failing them so much.

This team... I never felt part of it. Albert was an arrogant fool and Howard was a self-righteous bastard. But they were not actively hostile to me and as long as Nadia was there, everything was fine. I needed nothing more.

They stood side by side with Nadia, separated by her brothers. They were surrounded by heavily-armed men. A powerful, imposing man with a pair of sickles and an iron armor covering his chest walked towards them.

"I will protect you!" Thomas jumped in front of Nadia. He readied his only weapon and grabbed a fire dust crystal. "I am taking them down with me if I have to!" he screamed "you are the only one who needs to survive!"

Love... it makes people strong. That's what I thought. It turned out in the end it also makes them weak; exceptionally blind and utterly foolish to no end. Or, in my case, to a particular truth I was too stupid to realize.

"I'm sorry" a heavy, intense pain filled Thomas' skull as he fell down, all world fading to black as he did.

He woke up sometime later, tied up in the middle of a tent. The back of his head throbbed and his eyes were dizzy. He couldn't form a series of coherent thoughts, save for one. Someone had hit him from behind.

He put his brain to work. He let the events of the battle play in his head, taking in the position of his enemies. After a few minutes of thinking and thinking, he reached one conclusion; only Nadia could have hit him.

He tried to move. His bindings were really tight, so it took him some time. He didn't care, however. He had to find Nadia, make sure she was all right and then ask her why she did that. I hope she is not under their control!

As if to answer his thoughts, the tent's entrance opened, revealing a sight that made his heart freeze. The Magenta siblings, all three doing as fine as they could, stood side by side staring at him in a set of mixed expressions.

Albert was slightly remorseful, his face being troubled. Howard stared at Thomas with an arrogant smile. Nadia was... narrowing her eyes at him?

"Don't think it will be easy to get out of this, Thomas" she said. Her usual cheerful demeanor had vanished, being replaced by a cold, indifferent attitude. "I am particularly good at tying ropes, do you remember that?"

I must have stopped breathing from the shock at that point. Of course, my mind had already realized what was happening the moment I reached the conclusion that my crush was the one who had knocked me down.

It was my foolish, defective, utterly human and worthless heart that didn't want to accept what was happening in front of my very eyes.

"Did he wake up?" the tall man, now having swapped his armor for a set of leather clothes, stepped inside the tent, easily towering over the three humans who turned around and nodded in a civil, almost friendly manner.

"Unfortunately" Howard replied "I have zero idea what you want with this piece of human trash so much that you demanded him be captured alive."

Thomas' mouth opened wide. He had just heard that, hadn't he? The tall man sighed and moved, standing in front of the tied-up man. "You are all here to act on Salem's orders, you imbecile; not question her decisions."

Salem? Who was Salem? And why did he want them alive? And why are his frie- he stopped. His mind refused to finish calling these pieces of utter trash his friends. He glared at Nadia in anger, his heart almost breaking.

"Don't give me that look" she spat. "There is no disobeying the queen and you wouldn't even dare look at me that way if you knew of her." His lips moved, managing to barely form a phrase. "I... I thought we were a team."

"Yeah, we were" Howard replied "Until Salem asked us to deliver you to her. Don't misunderstand to think that we like you enough to get on her bad side." Nadia averted her gaze, her lithe body trembling in fear.

"You… you are going to give me to whoever she is like this?" He stared at the siblings. There was no answer. "Why?" he kept asking. "Do you really hate me that much?" Albert shut his eyes but it was Nadia who replied

"It has nothing to do with hatred, even though you didn't help us like you with this sly, vindictive attitude of your, Thomas!" He stared at her with open wide eyes "it is us or you at this point- there is no room for mercy!"

She looked away for a moment. "I really hope it didn't have to come to this. It turns out you have even worse luck than us-" her voice was cut off by the sudden appearance of gunfire and sounds of combat.

"We are under attack!" one of the lookouts shouted. The tall man stared at the siblings who narrowed their eyes at him "we are here as Salem's emissaries; your battles are your own" Albert firmly stated as the man left, cursing them profoundly while donning his weapons and armor.

Gunfire erupted, followed by screaming. Sounds of intense combat and furious brawls echoed around them from every direction. Growls of things better left unmentioned filled their ears. But Thomas didn't care about it.

All he cared was staring at the people standing next to each other in the middle of the tent, ready to shoot everything that would step in from the opening. They didn't even spend a gaze at his side, as if he wasn't there.

His heart grew colder and colder as minutes passed. He kept staring at the people around him, every second he spent looking at them, making him number. He felt as if he was slowly dying- as if his brain was... stopping.

He looked at Howard, eager to kill anything that would oppose him and he only thought how good it would be to step on his muscular neck and crush his windpipes. Maybe then, he would feel as numb as Thomas did.

He looked at Albert, giving commands to his siblings. Was that his idea of being more social? If Thomas skinned him alive and hanged him in the middle of the academy, would it be a method to socialize with others?

He looked at Nadia, admiring her gorgeous features- or not. That cold and emotionless girl standing a few meters away from him was not the girl he had fallen in love with; because she didn't exist. Thomas had a crush on a woman that had been from the very first moment they met, a fake.

He smiled. A wide, wicked smile appeared on his face, marring his lips as he tried his best to suppress it. But, it was impossible. A chilling, hustling laughter started leaving his lips, like a low-toned howling.

He imagined how he would strangle her with his very hands, trying to keep her alive as much as he could. That alone made it impossible to hold back his smile and stifle the laugh that rose from his dead, rotting soul.

As if to cover his tainted expression, the growls intensified and the gasps of pain mixed now with dying screams of agony. Sounds of chewing and panting got closer to the tent, as the gunfire slowly stopped.

"Grimm weren't part of the plan!" Nadia complained. "Grimm are never a part of any plan!" Albert hissed at her. "Get ready to leave; we have to go now before they notice us" he pointed to the back of the tent.

"And what about him?" the magenta-colored girl asked. "If Grimm eat him so be it. I am going to explain to the Queen that we can't be doing this-"

He gurgled, trying his best to not let out all the hysterical laughter he held back. They were actually trying to let him here die to Grimm! And he had been considering them his team! His trusted companions who would-

Oh, how he would love to free himself right now! How he would love to jump at them and strangle each and every one of them to death, seeing their pained expressions as he took their life away! Then, he could die, for all that he cared. All he needed is to be the one to stop their breathing!

A howl, sounding like it came from beyond the realms of humanity itself, accompanied the destruction of the hut. It happened all too suddenly that nobody managed to do a single thing about it.

Thomas' laugh intensified. Had he lost it? It was possible, with all that had happened so far. He had zero hope surviving this; he only wanted one chance- a shot at revenge against the scum pretending to be his friends.

The Magentas ignored him, no matter how annoying and creepy his laugh was at the moment. Because when the tent got thrashed away, it revealed a horrifying sight; the slaughtered remains of the whole bandit camp.

The shattered moon was high in the heavens, its deceptive gleam lighting the bloodstains and shattered weapons revealed beneath. A slight red hue permeated the atmosphere, casting eerie reflections at every corner.

Chewed, gnawed and mutilated corpses were spread all over the area. A large tent had caught on fire, highlighting the numerous shadows that lurked around, feasting on the carcasses in a show of frenzied hunger.

The Grimm were staring at the huntsmen, growls and snarls numbed by the delirious hysteria Thomas had fallen in. A large shadow, tall as a small tree and oozing malice stood over them, its red eyes fixed on the humans.

Blood dripped from its powerful jaws. Its plating reflected the red fire. It opened its bear-like paws letting the tall bandit's mangled flesh fall on the ground with a disgusting splash before it lowered its muzzle at them.

The siblings raised their weapons. "It's just an Ursa" Howard exclaimed. "A really weird Ursa; it's not similar to a Major" Nadia readied her harpoon in anticipation of the monster's incoming attack. "Get ready" Albert said.

"That's enough" a solemn, yet firm voice broke through the night. All four huntsmen stood in awe, Thomas' laugh dying in his throat, as they saw a man casually walk next to the imposing Ursa like it was his hunting bear.

He moved closer, allowing them to get a better look at his stature. He was a medium-sized man in his late 40s, wearing a traditional eastern-style pair of cypress green pants and a matching button-up sleeveless blouse.

He had soft shoes and a cape with long and wide sleeves in pastel color decorated in a flowery pattern, currently smeared in blood and gore. A weird golden talisman depicting a Leviathan's head hung from his neck.

His hair was a pure silken white color and a pair of snow white fox ears stood at the top of his head. He held a long green naginata in his left hand, nodding as he stretched out and patted the Ursa with his right one.

The captive boy stood there in shock, all laughter fading away. His three captors exchanged looks of pure confusion as they saw the Ursa suddenly calm down and lower its head in submission to the strange fox faunus.

That was when I met Silk Nome, the last successor in a long line of shrine keepers of the Old Ways. The person who raised Cherry and taught her all sorts of useful things- and a few useless ones while he was at it.

"Which one of you is Thomas Umber? I have come from far away to talk to him" the man held his talisman, power pouring from it to the Ursa.

Bistre Woodrock smiled, seeing the fire had almost consumed all of the catalysts. For some reason, seeing Nadia's blood-soaked emblem melt into the fire made him feel as if a curse was lifted from him. A curse cast upon his very being by that shocked, crying face of the girl he sent to hell with his very own hands.

That was when I met my destiny- and captured it all alone with my power- my blood and soul. He took out the talisman and threw it on the floor.

The man moved towards the telescope. His face was now marred with the same twisted smile he had that day, when he had almost fainted in shock at his comrades' betrayal. Bad luck, she said… he cackled.

And now... he broke into a hysteric, delirious laughter as the eerie eldritch pillar that held the protective barrier in place and kept Nyctos away slowly yet steadily thinned, casting heavier shadows as its power diminished … I shall attain eternal power!