Warning: Some of the content in this chapter is unspeakably disturbing, even for RWBY Nightmare Fuel standards. Those that read it may likely find themselves unable to forget the contents of this chapter, no matter how much they want to. Reader discretion is advised.
Soaring in the skies above what was left of Mantle, Oscar was left alone with his thoughts…and Ozpin's. Even having essentially shared a single mind with him for over a year, there were still many memories that Ozpin refused to share for one reason or another. He would always show up when Oscar truly needed it, but otherwise lock himself away in the deepest recesses of his mind. Oscar thought they could put these mistakes behind them after Ironwood shot him down that deep pit from the chamber that held the Relic of Creation. Ozpin had reemerged as he fell and helped him unlock the dormant magical abilities that ultimately saved him from certain death. Or rather, Ozpin showed him how to save himself.
That was supposed to be the end of the secrets, once and for all. Even after Salem's attack, even after Atlas' fall, even after Ruby's disappearance, Ozpin's counsel helped to fill the hole her absence left for the past few days. And now, someone with a striking resemblance to Ruby shows up, only for Ozpin to all but take over his body and demand he flee for his life.
"Ozpin," Oscar said, staring angrily across the night sky as he flew the airship. "Explain yourself…now."
No response.
"Ozpin!"
"I suppose I must, though…even I never could have predicted this."
"What happened to Ruby?" Oscar exclaimed. "Why does that Grimm look just like her?"
"Salem is responsible, as you might have guessed," Ozpin said, "but this goes far beyond the usual misdeeds she's committed. The creature we saw is more than a mere Grimm. It's a weapon; a final weapon…against me."
"And I'm another one of your lives, right?" Oscar asked. "Is it going to kill me?"
"Worse," Ozpin said forebodingly. "There can be peace in death. There is an afterlife. I know this better than any man, woman, and child on this planet save Salem herself. But that knowledge is what makes that particular Grimm all the more terrifying."
"Why are you—" Oscar asked incredulously. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Imagine if there was nothing after life," Ozpin said. "Imagine that if one were to die, their story would simply end. Now imagine how dangerous that prospect is to one that's forced to reincarnate by the will of the gods themselves. Imagine…if we didn't come back from death."
"Are you saying," Oscar asked with a quiet horror, "that the Grimm we just saw—"
"It poses that threat." Ozpin said, resigned. "It is a horrific being that can destroy a soul. With such a Grimm under Salem's thrall, even the endless cycle of reincarnation that the God of Light branded upon me will be of no protection. Oscar, whatever you do, you must avoid that particular Grimm at all costs. If you should die by that vile creature, we will never have another chance. This world, and the people the God of Light tasked me to redeem, will be doomed."
"How?"
"Oscar, I—"
"How could you keep something like that a secret?" Oscar exclaimed. "How…after everything that happened, can you still hide things from us?"
No response.
"And how could you even know something like that? If you truly knew what kind of Grimm Salem could send after us, why didn't you at least prepare for it? Unless…could you have prepared for it?"
"That…is a long story," Ozpin said. "One that I hoped never to revisit again. However, I suppose you are owed an explanation. It was…so long ago, when we ruled together as the gods of this world."
"You mean…when you and Salem were—"
"Yes," Ozpin said with an unusual tension. "When we ruled a prosperous kingdom, when we had four beautiful daughters, and when we had, what Salem referred to as…freedom."
The surroundings in Oscar's mind turned completely white. Two figures appeared, formed out of smoke. One was a man with tanned skin and platinum blonde hair wearing a blue-green tunic, a tan undershirt, a blue cape, black trousers, and brown boots. The other was a woman whose skin is a deathly gray, with jet black sclera in her red eyes, a short-sleeved black robe, and a curved high collar with a dark red trim.
The two stood together, hands clasped, with four small girls wearing dresses reminiscent of the four seasons standing around them. One wore blue with ice crystal-like details, which represented Winter. Another wore yellow with a sun depicted on it, which represented Summer. One wore green with a leaf-like pattern, which represented Spring. And one wore orange with the upper parts in brown, which represented Fall.
"Back then, the thought of completing the task the God of Light left me with," Ozpin said, "remained quietly on the back of my mind. I would occasionally think of it when alone and idle, but those moments were few and far between."
The figures faded into a thick smoke that quickly reformed into depictions of people wearing tattered and dull clothing; far different from the colorful and unique designs of today. Most of them were in humbling positions, bowing and praying.
"As I grew to appreciate the kingdom and the family I had, I grew less concerned with the Gods' decree, and more concerned with the well-being of those we ruled over. In a sense, Salem did deliver on her promise…that we may be the gods of the new world. The more I grew accustomed to my role as a savior and protector of the new mankind, the more they, in turn, grew to depend upon us."
More figures in dull clothing appeared. Their numbers grew faster than Oscar could count.
"As their numbers swelled into the hundreds, our little sect became a faction in its own right. And when hundreds became thousands, our faction became what would be known as the true faith. In time, there were more believers than not throughout the world. When such a great number looked to us for guidance and protection, the task of actually doing so became inconceivable. For even when our powers surpassed all others and our souls transcended death, we were only two."
The entire background changed into the interior of a castle. The woman with the pale skin stared intently into a red orb while the man stared outside the ornate windows at the mountains. Oscar recognized it; this played out like one of the scenes that Jinn showed everyone.
"We've stretched ourselves too thin," Ozma said. "We solve one dispute and two more follow. Even we can't solve all hardships in the world."
"Can't we?" Salem replied with a knowing smirk.
"You've seen it with your own eyes," Ozma said, looking at his queen. "However faithfully the people look to us, they do not share that faith with their neighbors. Their praises are endless when we're present only to squabble amongst themselves when we're not. How can Humanity be truly united when they love only us?"
"Because we have yet to give them the proper motivation," Salem said, approaching her king. "All they need is to hear the words of those acting for us."
"Emissaries? Is that all? What stops the people from lashing out at them? If they could turn on each other, then—"
"Ozma," Salem said, caressing his cheek lovingly. "Do you think me foolish enough to act without considering the risks involved?"
"I…"
"Of course they would," Salem said with a quiet mirth. "It has ever been the nature of humanity to demand more. To never be satisfied with what they have. Or didn't you realize by now?"
"What are you insinua—" Ozma asked, only to be silenced by Salem's finger over his lips.
"One does not live beyond death without learning about the hearts of men. Tonight…after our girls are in bed, you know the place."
"At the time, I didn't understand what Salem meant, but that hadn't surprised me. I wasn't the only immortal with secrets, after all. Holding her cards to her chest until the perfect moment to play them was something she did for years. We both did, really; it was a game we played together, and I could usually get a good read on her next move. But even after all of our years in the world, both together and apart, I could never have anticipated what she would show me that night."
The entire background changed into a massive courtyard, with flowers and trees of all seasons growing from the bushes. A luxurious square fountain was in the center of this courtyard, with statues on each of the four corners that depicted each of the four girls that wore different colored robes. Only a single black cauldron with bubbling black liquid marred this otherwise flawless paradise; its asymmetrical position closest to the maple tree suggested that it didn't even belong there.
Ozma and Salem remained in the scene; their affectionate display remained the one constant during the transition. The night sky shined down upon the two, fractured moon and all. It was almost enough to make Oscar forget that the two are now eternal enemies. Almost.
"You know by now that many different Grimm inhabit the various areas throughout Remnant," Ozpin said. "Most forms of Grimm were created by the God of Darkness in direct opposition to his brother's creations of life, but there were some that only plagued the world after the gods abandoned it."
"Ozma?" Salem asked. "Have you ever considered the usefulness of others? To turn what should be a curse into a gift?"
"I am…hesitant to answer," Ozma said. The reflection of his eyes never left the black pool.
"You shouldn't be," Salem said with a wry smile. With a flick of the arms, she stretched them both outward in a pose that evoked the coming of something both terrifying and breathtaking. Black liquid oozed from the bubbling cauldron, coming into contact with the grass and causing it to wither.
The center of the cauldron swelled from below in a pattern of two thumps per second, like a human heartbeat. A single bubble larger than the other rose from the center of the pool, containing something beating within its clear form. Though it moved at the same pace that the thumping did, what Ozma saw that day looked nothing like a heart. It was tiny and vaguely human-shaped, with small beads on its bulbous skull where its eyes should be. Its fingers and toes were undeveloped and bound together, while its back curled inward to reveal the contours of its spine. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn't a beating heart.
"Gods," Ozma muttered. His very legs were rooted to the grass and his eyes remained fixated on the repulsive ritual before him. The liquid that oozed out of the cauldron converged back into itself, slowly covering the tiny human-like entity. With time to only let out a single weak cry, it was completely engulfed. The bubbling grew wilder, magnified by the agony of the entity. Small cracks formed across the cauldron, barely able to contain whatever lurked within for much longer.
"I knew in my heart that something was wrong, but in that moment," Ozpin's voice trembled, "I-I had to see with my own eyes."
With an explosive force, the cauldron shattered from the inside out. Copper fragments struck Ozma's face, causing him to flinch. A foul black mist coursed through the air where the cauldron stood, shrouding whatever was lurking beneath it. Only a pair of glowing red eyes emerged from the mist.
"Is that…a Creature of Grimm?" Ozma asked, perplexed.
"It is more than any Grimm you have ever seen," Salem said with the pride that a mother would give her child. "You now bear witness to the first of my Harbingers. More than anything the old gods could ever have realized; a perfect soldier, and one of many. It is the extension of our will. Where we shall strike, they shall be our sword. Where we shall preserve, they shall be our shield."
The mist cleared, revealing a single humanoid Grimm. It stood taller than either Ozma or Salem, at roughly seven feet. Its distinctive features included long jagged teeth from a protruding jaw, arms that were both bulky and sleek, claws that were both jagged and sharp, wide legs that accommodated its size, and a muscular chest that matched the contours of its wide ribcage.
"And where we shall speak, they shall be our voice," Salem said, waving her fingers over the Harbinger's mouth. Its jaw opened all the way to a ninety degree angle, revealing small vocal cords deep in its black throat. She glanced back at Ozma's uncertain face. "You're free to speak your mind."
"Forgive my lack of understanding," Ozma said, unconvinced, "but you already command many Creatures of the Grimm; enough to be an army in its own right. Why exactly is this particular one—"
"The means to unite humanity?" Salem asked. "Consider its humanoid body. When one looks upon a beast, they act in fear of its savagery. But…if they see a man, or something like a man, they would be more at ease."
"Or unease from its uncanny resemblance to humanity."
"Ozma," Salem smirked. "Take up arms."
"W-what?"
"You're no stranger to combat," Salem said, handing Ozma a long sword. It looked just like the one he used to save someone else in the midst of a Grimm attack when he'd first incarnated into another form. "If our new Harbingers are equally fallible, you should have no trouble in slaying it."
"Are you certain about this?" Ozma asked, confused.
"I thought you were Ozma, the greatest warrior alive," Salem said in a teasing tone. "Did life as a god make you soft?"
Ozma let out a condescending laugh. He knew what she was doing, that she knew what to say to get him to do what she wanted. He took it in good humor, however. The two shared a glance, and then a moment of mirth. Taking up the sword, Ozma stood in a readied pose, facing his adversary. The Harbinger stood completely stiff, unfazed by Ozma or anything else around it. With a brief yell, Ozma charged toward it, swinging the sword down on its skull…only for the Harbinger to move its right arm at lightning speed and catch the blade with one claw.
Ozma's shocked expression was in great contrast to the Harbinger's inexpressiveness. Indeed, its lack of noticeable emotion would certainly make others around it very nervous, in spite of or even because of its humanoid stature. He struggled to pry the sword free, only for the Harbinger to squeeze the very blade with nothing but its claw until it snapped. Watching with horror as the end of the blade dropped to the ground, Ozma was caught off guard when the once still Harbinger lunged at him with a quick, yet precise left claw over his throat. It lifted him off the ground, displaying no difficulty whatsoever in doing so, and looked him in the eyes. Out of desperation, Ozma aimed his fist at the Harbinger's throat and punched it as hard as he could…only to hear a ringing clang when his fist made contact.
"I don't think this warrants any words," Ozpin said, "but Salem's new Harbinger was at a echelon far greater than any Beowolf."
His knuckle bled when it crossed the Harbinger's chin, and the rest of his fist singed with pain. He coughed weakly; his body growing numb.
"Enough," Salem said, holding her hand out toward the Harbinger. It obediently released Ozma, allowing him to crumple to the ground and catch his breath. She quickly went to her husband's side, caressing his sweaty hair, and eventually helping him up.
"What…kind of…creature—" Ozma struggled to speak.
"Breathe," Salem said. "There's nothing to fear."
"Grimm," Ozma said, catching his breath. "You want to use the creatures of Destruction itself to quell conflict? To keep the people pacified?"
"Why not? Their strength surpasses any man. Their flesh turns any blade or arrow. They can persist without food, drink, or sleep. And most importantly, they're absolutely obedient. I can have more of them made just like this one. They'll make the perfect soldiers in our world."
"But…what if they're too strong?" Ozma asked, his eyes never leaving the motionless Harbinger. "What if they become a threat to the people?"
With a smirk, Salem conjured a spark of magic from her left hand. A purple glow engulfed the Harbinger's body, twisting its limbs and body until it tore itself to pieces. Even separated, each part of it twitched uncontrollably.
"Magic?" Ozma asked.
"Which only we, as gods, may wield," Salem said. "Should our new army do the impossible, we can still slay them. Well?"
"I…I don't know. Is it truly possible to use something so destructive as the Creatures of Grimm for good?"
"Just think on it. Each Harbinger used for battle means one less person risking their lives. We could keep humanity protected, safe and free from any war. We could devote our time to integrating ourselves with the people, and truly spread our world for all to hear. A perfect union of Light and Dark; that can be the standard for the world."
"Once again," Ozpin admitted, "my heart was swayed by Salem's words. I accepted the proposal. In a matter of days, she had about forty Harbingers. In a week, she had about a hundred. As I thought, our people were nervous around them, but they did well to quell any act of hostility."
The background changed into a busy rural town, with markets and bazaars amidst crowds of people in the night sky, including Ozma. Two of Salem's Harbingers patrolled the streets, catching the eyes of any they crossed paths with. Most did little more than look away nervously, but one man wearing a thick gray robe caught Ozma's attention. His hand was beneath his sleeve; a clear indication of a hidden weapon. The man approached one of the stands; a bazaar that sold goods from imported lands. Before Ozma could react, the man drew a blade to the stand's lock; the owner sleeping oblivious to his intent. In a split second, the Harbingers reacted with vicious snarls and glanced at the thief.
"Looking back now, I didn't know how these Grimm noticed that particular individual," Ozpin said. "If I were to take an estimated guess, they must have sensed his dishonest intent in the same manner that other Grimm sense negativity."
Both Harbingers descended upon the unfortunate thief, and in seconds, one of them pinned him to the ground. With a terrifying gaze, it opened its jagged maw. The thief's agonized screams filled the air, terrifying everyone in the vicinity.
"I couldn't bear to watch," Ozpin said. "I turned away. All I knew was that the people's 'defenders' were soaked in blood and sinew by the end, and over petty theft of all things. It was clear to me that these creatures didn't have a grasp of morality. Even so, few were foolish enough to incite their wrath."
The background changed to the room in the castle. Salem stood alone, looking intently at one of her new creations from the window. In direct contrast to the impressive creature that she showed Ozma, this one was sluggish and walking with a hunched back. Two of Ozma and Salem's children sat next to the shriveled Grimm; one leaning on the other. They didn't seem to mind being near the horrific creature.
"After a couple of months, Salem noticed a strange mutation that occurred amongst the Harbingers," Ozpin said. "Once fierce and imposing, the creatures became sluggish and uncoordinated. Their very bodies had shriveled, almost like a malnourished human left to rot in a dungeon. Suffice to say, the Creatures of Grimm don't typically starve, and Salem herself made it abundantly clear that they did not require food, water, or rest. Stranger still was how those around them would also grow sluggish and weak."
"That's…an Apathy," Oscar said in quiet surprise. The background changed into a corridor of a dark dungeon. The halls were bleak as the night, with dim candles providing the only light. From said light, one could view the rotting bodies and skeletons hanging from the ceiling with hooks and chains. Salem was still present, with a Seer Grimm behind her, following her every move. Ozma peeked from around the corner, unseen by his wife or the Grimm.
"I went to confront her," Ozma said. "I needed to make her realize how badly things have gotten out of hand. At the time, we didn't have maximum security prisons or mental institutions to house the most disruptive members of society. To contain such dangerous individuals, Salem had a dungeon built in the Land of Darkness, far away from human eyes."
A human woman with shaggy brown hair and pale skin gazed from the bars of the dungeon cell that Salem stood beside. She had obviously been held captive for a long time. Her eyes quivered with fear and her arms caressed her stomach as Salem unlocked the cell.
"What I saw her do next was not meant for mortal eyes," Ozpin said with terror. "The Harbinger ritual…it required a key ingredient; one not used for other Grimm."
The Seer brandished two of its tentacles over the imprisoned woman, wrapping her arms and legs together. After a brief struggle, her limbs were bound. The woman was helpless for what was to come next. A third tentacle slithered up the woman's leg…and penetrated her. Ozma gasped in horror. His whole being shook in fear when he heard the woman's anguished screams. The Seer's tentacle ripped something out of the woman's belly. It looked human, but its features were clearly undeveloped.
"It was an unborn child," Ozpin said with great sorrow. "Salem's ritual to bring these creatures to life; they each required what is quite literally the most vile act of defilement that a person could ever dream of! Everything must have went black for me shortly afterward, because when I came to, I was in our castle with Salem by my side."
The background changed into an extravagant bedroom, with Ozma lying in bed and Salem sitting next to him. Ozma slowly opened his eyes and saw her.
"At first, I was relieved," Ozpin said. "I thought what I saw was merely a horrific nightmare…until I saw her face."
"Ozma," Salem said. "Is there something you'd like to ask of me?"
"I…" Ozma muttered, his head still woozy from what happened. "Where…where am I?"
"Home," Salem said with a smile. "Now that you're awake, I'll get you something to drink. Any other person in your position would have died right away if they saw what you did."
"W-wait!" Ozma exclaimed, pulling himself out of bed. Salem merely raised an eyebrow. "What I…Salem, what have you done?"
"I found you in my dungeon," Salem explained in a completely casual manner. "You passed out and I brought you home."
"N-no…that woman!" Ozma exclaimed. "You…what you did to her was—"
"Not here," Salem silence him with a finger to his mouth. "The girls are in their rooms. Follow me."
Without another word, Ozma followed Salem to the room where they often spoke of matters regarding their Kingdom. It was far enough away from the ears of their daughters.
"I did as she asked," Ozpin said. "A part of me wanted to believe that there was some rational explanation for what I saw that night."
"Now, dear Ozma," Salem said. "Why don't we skip the part where I ask you what you were doing in my dungeon and go over the part where these sacrifices are used for the good of our Kingdom."
"Sacrifices?"
"Did you think the Harbingers were as formidable as they were with a pool of the Brothers' Grimm and a wave of my finger?" Salem asked. "Of course not. These ones needed…suffering to reinforce their bodies. Not just any suffering, but an anguish so pervasive that no amount of time could ever undo it."
"So you defiled our people," Ozma shouted, "the very people we're here to guide and protect, just to fuel your rituals!"
"Of course not," Salem said, crossing her arms. "They were only heretics; disbelievers to our cause. I would never betray the world we've come together to create."
"And to what end?" Ozma asked in an icy and hostile tone. "Your Harbingers were failures, Salem! If you'll recall, they've decayed into those hideous shapes. Will you still have us use them as soldiers?"
"I…may have some use for them," Salem wondered aloud, "but I see your point. I thought the same when I saw one of them just yesterday."
"At first, I thought Salem was actually listening to reason," Ozpin said. "I thought that, even after everything, it wasn't too late to turn back."
"When the gods left behind this second wave of humanity," Salem said, "they left them without their blessings. Without magic, without guidance, and without hope. In that sense, they were limited in ways the Grimm aren't. Have you ever wondered why humans alone wither and die without proper nourishment, while the Grimm can live for centuries without such amenities? It's because they weren't created with limitations in mind. The God of Light had no part in the Grimm's conception. There was no need for an experiment. What I failed to realize was that by using human parts to fuel the Harbingers, I had inadvertently introduced such limitations to their bodies as well."
"Then…it's over?" Ozma asked, hopefully. "You won't perform such rituals any longer? Because they don't work on a fundamental level?"
"Let's not be hasty, Ozma," Salem said, smirking. "I haven't finished. To truly perfect them, I have need of something other than a body."
"And what would that be?" Ozma asked in that icy and hostile tone again. "What more could you possibly need?"
"A soul," Salem said. "A pure and simple one."
"Salem, you will do no such thing!" Ozma exclaimed. "If even one more person, heretic or otherwise, goes through such torture, I'll—"
"Just listen," Salem said, closing her eyes. "The rituals I've devised are meant to protect our people not only from themselves, but from the gods. Recall that they have destroyed humanity once before. What if they returned to do so again?"
"Oscar," Ozpin said, interrupting the conversation. "Keep in mind that I had yet to tell Salem about the promise I made to the God of Light at the time. She didn't know the conditions regarding whether or not they would destroy the world. For all she knew, the gods could just come and wipe the world out again."
"If humanity was found irredeemable," Oscar said.
"How would your creatures hope to stop such a thing?" Ozma asked.
"To protect the world even from gods, we would need a weapon that even they would fear," Salem explained. "One that could threaten to burn even their immortal souls. If flesh could be used to bolster a Harbinger's body, then surely a soul could make them complete."
"You would truly raise your sword against the gods?"
"Once more, I should clarify," Ozpin said, interrupting the conversation again. "I didn't know of Salem's role in humanity's destruction. I didn't know at the time that she had once challenged the gods…and lost."
"Only if they threaten our people?" Salem said, putting her hand over her husband's shoulder, only for him to back away from her, and eventually out of her sight. "You do wish to protect them, don't you?"
Ozma stayed silent, contemplating the question. Meanwhile, Salem walked toward the crystal ball and looked within it. Despite the way the Harbingers pacified humanity earlier, a great conflict took place in a territory far from the castle, and far from their influence. Salem smirked at the sight.
"Are we sure this is right?" Ozma asked.
"You said we needed to bring humanity together," Salem said, looking over to Ozma. "In order to do that, we have to spread our word, and destroy those who will deny it."
"I was shocked to hear those words from the woman I once called my wife," Ozpin said. "It was clear to me that she was no longer the woman I fell in love with."
"What are we doing?" Ozma's reflection asked him. He reeled back in horror, briefly becoming his original incarnation, before looking over to Salem.
"This isn't what he asked of me," Ozma whispered.
"What did you say?" Salem asked.
The two then hear a door open, and their eldest daughter enters the room excitedly.
"Mother, father, look!" she exclaimed, conjuring multicolored wisps that flew in circles in front of her.
"And the rest…you already know," Ozpin said.
Oscar's mind returned to reality, albeit with a new appreciation for the emotional baggage Ozpin carried to this day. He didn't know if what Ozpin showed him was the full truth, or just his version of the story. There was something about it that bothered him.
"Is there…anything more you want me to say?" Ozpin asked with hesitation.
"Just one more thing," Oscar said. "If this was something that happened in your past, why didn't Jinn show us right then and there?"
"Do you recall what Miss Rose asked the Relic that fateful day? 'What is Ozpin hiding from us?' Those were her words."
"But you were hiding this."
"No," Ozpin explained. "Strictly speaking, I have never hidden this particular moment of my life from you or anyone else. As I just told you a moment ago, Salem's ambitious scheme to create the perfect soldier proved fruitless. We had our falling out before they could be realized. And if I may still be honest, for all her cunning and insidiousness, I didn't believe even she could succeed. To create true life from something as destructive as the Grimm, it would take a true god to perform such a feat; not false gods like ourselves. After she…killed me, I wasted myself in the comfort of drink, day after day, hoping to forget about Salem and that vile ritual."
"How could you possibly forget something like that?" Oscar inquired.
"After countless lifetimes, it's all too easy to forget; to make the same mistake over again. Even immortal wizards could be left in a stupor long enough to forget what year it was. Time has a way of changing what mattered. I thought this moment was well and truly behind me, but my mind eventually turned back to my promise to the God of Light. And when I saw that vile interpretation of Miss Rose standing before us, everything came flooding back to me."
"I see," Oscar said with a pause. "How can we fight it?"
"What?"
"That Grimm. How can we fight something like that?"
"We can't," Ozpin said after a brief pause.
"We can't?"
"We can't. If you so much as go near that monster, we—"
"So we just leave the whole world at its mercy? What if someone else dies? What if their soul burns because of it? Is that what you want? To let others die because we did nothing?"
"I…don't have a plan," Ozpin said, "but if Miss Rose is truly alive, then—"
Before he could finish, Oscar spotted the Ruby-like Grimm in the broken streets of Mantle from the cockpit of the ship. He wasted no time in taking action.
"This is Oscar Pine, commandeering Manta 2-9," Oscar said over the radio. "Calling all Huntsmen and military remnants, a pack of at least fifty Grimm have appeared about eighty-five feet southeast of my position. They're moving fast! They've already reach the Sam and Weston and are coming closer by the second!"
He watched this Ruby-like Grimm with great trepidation. Its entire body was engulfed in dark flames as it sprinted across the ruined streets with incredible speed. The imprints upon the pavement and the rusted metal hurled into the air from the wrecked automotives below revealed that this particular Grimm wouldn't be impeded by physical obstacles. This was an incredible show of force for its meager size compared to other Grimm.
"There's one Grimm you must exercise extreme caution against," Oscar said. "It looks just like Ruby! It's heading toward the Sam and Weston where the other Grimm are and…gods, no!"
He reached his arm out in vain, fearing the worst when he witnessed the flaming Ruby-like Grimm stop on a dime when it crossed paths with fleeing civilians in one of the ruined streets. The rubble from the nearby buildings formed a blockade on the other side, preventing the civilians from escaping…until two giant elephant-like Grimm burst through it from the other side. They were Megoliaths, one of the Grimm species that invaded Mantle before Atlas' fall. The Ruby-like Grimm unwrapped a red coil around its shoulder until it extended into the form of a scythe.
"There are civilians trapped at 39th Avenue!" Oscar exclaimed. "The Ruby Grimm is right there! It's about to—"
He saw the Ruby-like Grimm glance at the terrified civilians, then give the bellowing Megoliaths a longer stare. It walked in between the Megoliaths and the civilians, glancing at the latter once more. Even as the civilians fled for their lives, the Ruby-like Grimm stood its ground in front of the Megoliaths, halting their advance with its comparatively tiny frame alone.
"—protect them?" Oscar asked in disbelief. With a quiet and hostile growl, it glared at the Megoliaths standing before it.