Well, took me a whole month, on top of catching that f*cking flu bug a few weeks ago that is going around.
Also, for the first time in this whole story, I finally remembered something key to fanfic writing:
NOTE: Warhammer 40,000 and all associated concepts, characters, places, events, factions and objects are trademarked property of Games Workshop. RWBY and all associated characters, places, events, concepts, factions and objects are a trademarked property of Rooster Teeth Animation and Monty Oum.
Enjoy...
Chapter 22: Morning Tea with an Ultramarine
"To stand amongst legends and heroes is a privilege that only the lucky, the skilled and the dead experience." —Chaplain Galahad, 3rd Company, Red Templars Chapter
It was pitch black... and that was it.
That's all there was. Pitch darkness.
An eternity in a void.
Or at least that would have been the case, were a figure not laying in front of him. Or, at least he thought so; despite the abyss of ink around him, the body seemed to be illuminated enough for him to see it. He couldn't make out the details, merely that there was a clear curve to the body; whoever—or whatever—it was, they were female.
"Hello?"
There was no response.
He walked closer without hesitation, shuffling forwards. It felt like it took forever to reach the figure, the body still remaining motionless as he strolled towards it. He didn't care about where this place was or what he was doing here; his only concern was that person.
He reached it in little time—or perhaps it had been a long time—and he bent down towards what he assumed was the head. His hand brushed past long, silky hair as he reached down and felt for their pulse.
No pulse, yet the body was still warm.
His eye caught the faintest bit of light from father down the body. He traced the path down the spine to the offending light source. His gaze met a glowing ring in the center of the back, just where the shoulders met. The hot red and yellow light was faint and yet it burned his retina furiously. He found his finger gently tracing it, feeling a great heat emanating from it. His finger dipped into the center only to miss the feeling of meeting flesh, as if it had been carved out.
His other hand gently touched the side of the body only to encounter leather and metal buttons along the side; some kind of jacket, perhaps. The curve of the waist told him they were definitely female.
Why does this... seem familiar...
Either his vision began to improve or the world around them was beginning to brighten: Now he could start to see.
Crimson locks done up in a ponytail sat limp in his face. The golden glimmer of a choker danced across his eyes.
His hand laid gently on a leather corset, black laces along the back.
The tiny glowing wound he quickly noticed hadn't been entirely round, but rather there was a thin diamond to the shape as well.
He felt panic.
No... no!
He flipped the body onto its back, the flash of an obsidian arrow caught in his periphery.
She stared off into the void above, emerald eyes flat and lifeless. There was no warmth to be found there, no joy or sorrow, no after to see, no before to have been seen.
Just an abyss.
Her mouth was open, a single line of blood tracing a line to her chin.
His eye was drawn to her chest in fear; the same offending hole as on her back now glowed faintly from her front, jutting out from her cleavage. just where the sternum would be—and below that, her heart.
Pyrrha! No! No! Please, Pyrrha! Wake up!
He cradled her head, desperately staring into her eyes for something, anything to tell him she was still there.
A cackle, somewhere high above him. Another sound chimed in, a feminine chuckle. Then another, this one a growling rumble, and another son after, a gurgling, raspy laugh.
He tore his eyes away from her lifeless corpse and gazed upwards.
Everything stared back at him from above.
Eyes beyond count blinked amidst a dizzying spiral of blue mist.
Gnashing teeth and anguished cries reached his ears with relentless fury, sending the world into a blood-red haze.
Sensual and horrifying forms twisted and writhed within a sea of purple velvet so vibrant a color it hurt his eyes.
A host of flies and shambling corpses stared down and reached out from a miasma of sickly-green smoke.
"What chance have you, Little Warrior? What hope do you have to keep her safe? You are weak of heart and stomach; what warrior won't spill the blood of his enemies to protect those he cares for!?"
"Hoohoohoo, that's not even the biggest laugh! He really thinks he can outsmart Fate? He hasn't even come up with a valuable plan outside of letting the chips fall where they may! He should have contingencies, improvisations, an actual plan! At this point he will lose her without doubt; the girl sacrificed all for one big lie—or technically two at this point."
"Oh, you two, you aren't even noticing the exquisite anguish radiating off of him. That passion, that fire, that hatred, oh, it is simply divine; and there is surely more to come if he does fail. But he shouldn't worry too much; I could make the pain far more... tolerable, if he would let me into his heart."
"The stagnation that radiates from him would be perfect back home! He seeks stability, peace, and I cannot deny that look of sorrow in his eyes. Come to my embrace, my child, let my myriads give you peace; become one with us..."
No, no, stay away from her! Get away!
The forms grew closer with each passing second, their forms twisting against the growing kaleidoscope of colors. He held her tightly, wanting to shelter her body; they would not defile her!
The colors grew, the madness coming closer...
Chaos.
Her head snapped towards him, the eyes now glazed and faded as if the eyes of the long-dead.
"Why didn't you save me!?"
His eyes snapped open and were met with a wooden pattern above him. He didn't find himself vaulting awake like they did in movies and comics—that was ridiculous, didn't they know one's body freezes up in REM—but his leg did kick out towards the side of the bed. He felt flushed and sweaty, his breath haggard as his heart raced in his chest.
Where am I?
He righted himself only to receive a head rush. As the stars cleared from his vision he began to make out familiar shapes.
The door to the room.
The bookstand beside his bed.
The desk off to the side.
The 40k models sitting atop the desk.
Jacob sighed. "I'm in bed. It was just a dream..." He ran a hand through his hair. His mind was groggy and dazed as he tried to clamor out of his terror. It had just been a dream, nothing more...
Granted, a dream about Pyrrha being dead in his arms as The Chaos Gods attempted to take them both, but a dream none the less.
Something was egging at his mind. Something about last night. As Jacob got up, he noticed his chest was aching like it had been struck by fist bigger than a watermelon was wide.
"Damn, what the hell did I do last—"
It came back to him.
A Minor Hiccup and Paint the Town...
Now the memories were starting to stream in: Penny, the White Fang, Torchwick's Paladin... And something else.
Ciaphas Cain. Meeting Ciaphas Cain beside Weiss and Ruby.
Vulkan and his team... their names: Vulkan He'Stan, Titus Ultramar, Logan Grimnar, Gabriel Angelos...
Jacob shook his head. "No, no, must've been a dream too. Maybe I should lay off the soda at dinner from now on," he muttered to himself as he shambled into the bathroom to shower.
As he cleaned up from his sweat-inducing night terror, he desperately tried to figure out what had happened the previous night. There was no way that had been real; no way that the heroes of Warhammer 40k were in RWBY.
"I must have hit my head or something," he reasoned to himself. "Okay, okay, what do you remember, Jacob? Let's see, I went with Ruby and learned Penny's secret, okay that's vivid in my mind, then after that..."
He was stumped, the memories of the previous night not making sense. It couldn't have possibly been that way, right?
He touched the tender spot in the center of his chest.
The memory of the barrel of a meltagun staring him down roared at him in defiance of his denial, and from behind that barrel the helmet of Eliphas the Inheritor.
It was real.
Warhammer 40k was in RWBY.
The shower tiles took on a sickly yellow hue as he dry-heaved his empty stomach onto the floor beneath him. He couldn't help but take to both knees as he fought the abject horror of that mental image bearing down on him.
So many questions raced through his head: Was it just the characters or did The Warp reach here to? If the latter was true, were the Chaos Gods here? Did they scheme and distort here too? Did the Astronomican reach here, if they were even still in the Milky Way? Were they still in the Milky Way? Should he expect the Indomitus Crusade and Roboute Guilliman to drop by sometime soon?
His head swam in circles like a submarine propeller as he raced through the prospects of such a situation.
After a full minute did something finally click:
Canon.
He couldn't rely on canon anymore.
Everything was in the air now, every one of them was now in Salem and Cinder's firing line. Canon and plot armor wouldn't save any of them now.
Ruby, Yang, Weiss, Blake.
Nora, Ren...
Jaune and Pyrrha.
His stomach lurched again. He held his head in his hands as he desperately tried to come to grips with this new situation.
After a full minute of fighting the urge to scream, Jacob drew back his hand and slapped himself aside his head. "Focus, dipshit," he hissed at himself. "Now is not the time to freak out. You just need to keep calm and keep a weather eye out, right? There's still the Dance, there's still the Festival, you still have some framework to work off of. If Cinder's still going ahead with her plan, you've also got that to your advantage..." He stood up slowly, turning off the shower and stepping out to dry off, all the while the while the face of Eliphas the Inheritor staring him down from the memory of a meltagun barrel.
He'd stared down the barrel of a real-deal meltagun, the Imperium's answer to armored tanks.
"I so fucking wish I was 21 right now," he muttered as he looked himself in the mirror; already the 5 o' clock shadow he was so used to was returning despite having shaved the previous morning. His eyes were more bloodshot than usual and there were a few bags under them as well, no doubt thanks to that nightmare.
The more he thought about that nightmare the more his stomach rebelled against him. Were those the real Chaos Gods? Or was it only his own mind at work here?
This kind of abject horror was new to him; he needed something to comfort him.
He walked out and quickly put on his usual attire before looking around for something, anything to help him. For a minute he paced in a furious panic; what could he do?
Jacob finally flopped back down on his unmade bed, cradling his head in his hands again as he roared in frustration. He looked at his phone: 7:45 in the morning, the sun already well above the horizon if the light from out the window was any indication. His hands fell limp to the side as he looked down towards the bookshelf.
"Maybe something I could read," he muttered to himself as he began shuffling through the books he had. Sadly, most of seemed to be related to 40k, much to his annoyance in this given situation; Flight of the Eisenstein, The Traitor's Hand, A few of the Codices, he'd even asked Blake if he could borrow Ninjas of Love out of pure boredom and curiosity of how lewd it could possibly get. Not even the textbooks he honestly thought would help him.
But his hand brushed a book he had forgotten had come along with him.
He hoisted it up from the bottom-most shelf and looked closely at it. It was clad in mahogany leather, the spine and cover adorned with golden words. He'd read it on occasion when studying it for Religion classes, but he hadn't properly read it since he was only 10 years old and enrolled in a local private school. On its cover were only six simple words—Holy Bible: New King James Edition.
He ran his hand along the side as he remembered the times he spent listening to prayers and psalms and lessons about the stories in The Good Book, and yet at the same time how unfortunate it was that they had instilled in him the idea of the Fire and Brimstone Jehovah before he was finally put in normal academia. He remembered his time being read that stupid Left Behind: The Kids in third grade that put the fear of Apocalypse into him only for him to laugh at it years later as he studied more on the origins of the concepts in the story.
But maybe, for the first time in years, maybe there was something he could find in there that could at least help ease his panic.
He opened it up and began scrolling through, skipping the Old Testament and headed right for the Psalms in a vain hope that something there could ease him. Nothing. Onto the New Testament; he flipped past the Apostles, thinking that nothing Christ could say would be of any help in this matter. He remembered there was something he had read in Second Corinthians years ago that had left a faint stamp on his memory. Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4—there it was, verses 16 to 18:
"Therefore we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory,while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal."
He stopped on that last word before going back to the beginning and reading the verses again in a desperate hope for enlightenment. The words written down he understood, but they didn't seem to have any effect on him; no calmness to be found here, no peace to be scoped out. It was nothing. He snapped shut the book after another two reads and tossed it into his sheets, returning to the act of cradling his head in his heads.
"So much for the Good Book consoling one in a time of crisis," he muttered to himself as his stomach grumbled in tandem. He glanced up into morning sky through his window.
He would have been more surprised if something divine had happened at that exact moment.
"I've heard of damning silence, but this is ridiculous. Fuck it, I'm getting breakfast."
By the time the clamor of the cafeteria crowds reached his ears as he passed through the swinging doors, his stomach and head were in full rebellion. The sun was rising ever higher, the sky growing brighter outside. Between the left side of his head throbbing from a caffeine migraine and hunger cramps if he had been a man of ever slightly less composure he might have been snappy and aggravated. Instead, he opted to fill his mug and grab a pair of chocolate chip muffins and a pair of sausage links.
"Well, hey there, Bunny-girl."
Jacob unconsciously rolled his eyes. Fucking Cardin.
As usual Cardin and the rest of Team CRDL seemed to be scoping out potential targets to bully, avoiding JNPR and RWBY like the plague. Jaune's blackmail impasse had held them at bay fortunately, and word was that Cardin was looking for some way to get back at Jaune outright.
Jacob's gaze now met the offending asshole, and sure enough he was picking on Velvet again. Even after Coco's chili powder trick Cardin hadn't taken a hint like he should have and instead decided to double-down on the poor rabbit Faunus. Today Cardin and his goonies had encircled her seat and were now playing with her food, like immature school children—then again, he thought, even children don't act this asinine for piss-poor reasons.
Now, canonically, the only other major contribution Cardin was supposed to provide to the plot was to be Pyrrha's punching bag in the following episode Extracurricular, but after that everything was in the air; The only problem was that the rest of Team CFVY had indicated that this was their fight and they would only call him to battle in the event things got out of hand. He snorted through his nose as he watched them, Velvet keeping as straight a face as she could all the while her shoulders tensed up like a rattlesnake looking for a jugular to sink its teeth into. Even as Cardin flipped a dollop of mashed potatoes on her nose, she made no effort to react. Jacob fumed in impotent rage as he watched on.
"I haven't even seen you fight once," Cardin snidely chortled in her face, "How do you even fight, you use your tiny bunny fists?" A collective chuckle reverberated from them.
Jacob felt his grip on the lunch tray tighten. If only Cardin now that kind of ass-whooping she could and would let loose during the Battle of Beacon...
Cardin's hand maneuvered to her left ear, but instead of his expected brutish yank he gently pinched her ear, ticking the inside of the ear with his middle finger.
Velvet bristled and seemed to tense up.
Jacob felt his anger rise. He started to move towards her, only to be stopped by her gaze. She shook her head. "I've got it under control," it seemed to say, "don't worry about me."
Jacob hummed and hawed as he wanted to smack them all over the top of their heads with his tray and shove one of his muffins down Cardin's throat. Whatever he was doing, Cardin knew that he was getting a rise out of her.
"Jacob!"
Jacob just barely pulled his head out from the fog of anger when he found himself in a vice grip from behind. Without warning, he was hoisted into the air; as if hearing her voice hadn't tipped him off to who it was now hoisting him up like a duffel bag.
"Easy, Nora," he choked out through the pain radiating across his torso, "That's my ribcage!"
"Sorry." She let go of him, his meal nearly hitting the floor as he stumbled on impact.
"Sorry I was late out of bed," he said.
"Everyone was so worried about you last night," she said as he turned around and looked at her, an unusual look of concern on the bubbly bruiser's face. "When RWBY came back they said you'd passed out after the fight!"
Actually," Jacob said as he sighed in thought, "I was wondering about just that; how the hell did I get back to my dorm?"
"I carried you back, actually. Well, with some help from Vulkan."
Mark Strong's strong baritone voice.
Jacob wheeled on the spot, a muffin rolling off the plate and nearly off the tray with the force of the act.
Walking down the lunch table aisles, clad in a blue polo shirt and tan cargo pants not unlike his own, was a very familiar man. On the one hand Jacob's mind flashed back to the previous night, and the memory of having dinner with him and his wife.
On the other hand, as the man walked towards them, Jacob's mind couldn't help but imagine him walking towards him and Nora in the armor of the Ultramarines... as well as being rendered far more realistically rather than the animesque style of RWBY.
"Are you alright," asked Titus, the Captain of the Ultramarines 2nd Company.
"...Yes," Jacob said as his mind slowly processed the sitution. Jacob felt that under different circumstances he should have taken a knee and made the Sign of the Aquila. "Thank you... Titus, for that." Not considering the fact that two of his current favorite universes had just collided in a spectacular metaphorical car crash, Jacob was more than aware of the reality of his situation; he was more than aware that he stood in the presence of a demigod, a son of Roboute Guilliman, a veteran of so many battles and encounters with Chaos and aliens that Jacob could not even begin to match those conflicts in number or even stakes if it took him the rest of his life. To the people of the Imperium, he was an extension of the God Emperor's Wrath, a defender of the Realm of Ultramar and a slayer of the foulness that writhes across the Milky Way Galaxy. Hell, Jacob had before then played the Space Marine game so much that he could almost remember the entire plot of the game beginning to end, all the way from the Ork Waagh that charged onto Forge World Graia—with Titus clearing the way for Thunderhawks to land like the biggest badass that side of the Eye of Terror—all the way to his incarceration with the Inquisition.
"You also have Vulkan to thank," said another voice, this one female. Titus shifted and revealed from behind his back another individual: the brown hair up in a short ponytail immediately struck a chord as Miranda Nero of the Cadia Shock Troops walked up. Jacob couldn't help but notice now that he saw it in its entirety that for casual clothing her outfit wasn't unlike Bradford's in the first XCOM game. A green sweater the color of Cadian flak armor conservatively covered her torso as she sported cargo pants of her own with what seemed to be dark brown cowboy boots beneath the cuffs of the legs. Jacob also couldn't help but notice the wedding bands on both of them that even at a distance he noticed seemed to be their opposite symbols: The Cadian Gate on Titus' band, and the Ultramarine badge on her's.
Titus and Mira are married... fucking A, the fanfiction material just keeps on coming...
Mira chuckled, no doubt at Jacob's expression which he felt was one of shock or at the very least mild panic. "Well come on," she said with a sweet chuckle and a faint British accent, "Not all of us have had a proper breakfast yet it seems."
Jacob and Nora were quickly led off towards RWBY and JNPR's newly-combined table; in the aftermath of the Food Fight Glynda had insisted that the two teams be separated out of concerns for property damage. It was Jacob, however, who put the bug in Ozpin's ear that perhaps it should be contained within a singular table, so at the least it wouldn't get out of hand. It wasn't exactly a fool-proof concept, with enough holes to make Swiss cheese look complete, but Ozpin suggested it to RWBY and JNPR while he had been down at the gun range one morning. The next meal he had found the tables in that state.
Jacob walked up to the table and was relieved to find them all there. On the far end from him sat Ruby and Yang, chowing down on a plate of waffles. Across from them were Jaune and Pyrrha, both working on an omelet; Jacob couldn't help but notices the clear smile on Pyrrha's face as she was eating with Jaune. Weiss and Blake were working on plates of fruit and eggs, while Ren had a massive stack of pancakes sitting in front of him, an empty seat next to him indicating where Nora was earlier.
And there, at the foot of the table between Weiss and Ren, was a steel fold-up chair, a "JM" marked on the backrest in the silhouette of an Aquila.
"Hey, hey, what's all this? You kids eating without me?"
His comments drew everyone's attention, several eyes lighting up in relief. Ruby bolted to her feet and quickly embraced him in her closest attempt at a bear hug.
"Jeez, Ruby," Jacob said with a laugh as he returned the hug, "What's with all of the bear hugs, you act like you haven't seen me in weeks!"
"I'm just happy you're alright," she squeaked in excitement. "When you passed out we were all worried that you'd hit your head or something, so we had you looked at by the nurses and they say you were fine and that it may be shock—"
"Ruby," Jacob began as the pounding in his head began to grow, "ease up. I haven't had morning tea yet."
Ruby let go just as Yang came up and slugged him in the shoulder. "Those were some ballsy moves last night," she said with a grin. "Going for the knees wasn't exactly what I would have done myself, but..."
"Yeah, well, the bigger they are the harder they fall and all that," Jacob said as he set down his tray at his spot at the table and offered her a handshake. He turned and looked over at Jaune, only to be met with a concerning image: Jaune was sporting what were obviously bags under his eyes.
"Whoa, Jaune, you okay bud?"
Jaune blinked harshly as he visibly tried to wake up. "H-huh? Oh, uh sorry," he said groggily, "it's nothing. Just a bad dream last night."
...What the hell are those odds, Jacob thought to himself as he nodded in understanding. Without a warning though, he found himself in a tight, warm embrace from Pyrrha, who was holding on to him closely. "We're just glad you're okay," she said as she nestled her head into the crook of his neck.
Jacob did not hesitate to return the hug in kind. Somehow, that headache was feeling far more tolerable than before.
And then Warhammer 40k barged into the moment.
"Well now," Captain Titus said with a laugh, "and what about us?"
Jacob turned around in confusion as he noticed Titus' arms were open in an offer of a hug.
And then Pyrrha said four words he never thought he would hear from her:
"Uncle Titus, Aunt Mira!"
Jacob felt the blood leave his face for the fourth or fifth time in 24 hours as Pyrrha let go of their hug and embraced the Ultramarine in a laughing hug. UNCLE Titus!? AUNT Mira!?
"How's our little Champion," Titus asked as he chuckled, Mira joining in the group hug.
Jacob slowly turned and looked at Jaune, his eyes wide as dinnerplates. Jaune simply shrugged and smiled.
As Jacob continued to watch as reality acted like Ahriman had decided to go on a bender and bring the Warp to the Materium, Pyrrha laughed and said, "I didn't know you guys were in Vale! What brought you here?"
"Well of course we were going to watch our niece compete in the Vytal Festival for the school we graduated from," Mira said with a laugh as she gently held Pyrrha's hands in her own.
"Oh, it's so good to see you guys," Pyrrha said as she hugged her... "aunt" again.
"But, more than that," Titus began, "I'm also here on Ozpin's request. I am to act alongside Professor Goodwitch and Professor Cain for your Dueling class."
"That's great," Pyrrha said as Jacob slowly took a seat and tried to process this new information. "Mother will love hearing that I'm training under you again."
"Ah-buh-buh-buh, let's keep that on the down-low until she and your father get here, Okay?"
Pyrrha giggled. "Right, of course." She turned and looked to the other Huntsmen and Huntresses in their little team. "Oh, sorry guys. Everyone, this is my uncle Titus and my aunt Mira."
"We met last night, actually," Weiss said matter-of-factly as she finished her last apple slice. "Ruby, Jacob and I had dinner with them at a local place before that ruffian Torchwick decided to go on his rampage."
"Yes," Titus began as he pulled another metal chair and sat it beside Jacob's right side, putting the Terran at unease as the Ultramarine sat down in the chair in reverse; the very idea of Titus using the "Edgy Backwards Chair-Sitting" trope would have normally given him a solid chuckle or two. "Meeting a Schnee was not something I had expected," he began he leaned forwards, "But in comparison to that lout who is your father you seem to have at least far more honor and courage than he ever could." At the same time, Mira had pulled another chair and was now sitting opposite of Titus on Jacob's left side, albeit normally.
Weiss simply blushed and giggled as she soaked in the flattery.
Jacob decided to let them all talk while he went ahead and caught up on breakfast. The muffin tasted good on the palate and when down smoothly when hit with a chaser of tea, and the sausage was carrying with it a hint of maple-wood smoke to its flavor. Small and quick, but he couldn't pretend that it didn't hit the spot just right, as well as gie him something to focus on as
The two teams chatted with the Imperials with ease as Jacob listened in. Just as he finished his muffin he was spared the confusion considering Pyrrha and the Ultramarine Captain; turns out that they were not related by blood, but rather by godfathership. Supposedly her father and Titus were longtime friends even before Beacon—leading Jacob to ponder how a Space Marine got into a Huntsman Academy and just how old the Astartes really was—and had kept in touch. When they both got married, they apparently agreed to act as godfathers to each other's kids should something happen to them. So, basically, it was less of an uncle-niece relationship and more of a godfather-goddaughter one.
Captain Titus of the Ultramarines was the Sirius Black to Pyrrha Nikos' Harry Potter.
"I really wish I were 21 right now," Jacob said as he made a concerted effort to stealthily cradle his head in his hands.
"So, you guys are gonna be working with Professor Goodwitch?"
"Actually, Mr. Arc," Mira began, "Titus will, despite my insistence to Ozpin that I join as well; Glynda and I have a good history with one another, but he insisted that I help out Professor Port in his class." The disappointed huff she finished her sentence with sent a laugh around the table.
"I didn't know that," Pyrrha said with a giggle. "Were you classmates?"
"Partners, actually."
That raised Jacob's eyebrows; Glynda Goodwitch and Miranda Nero on the same team?
"You guys were in a Team together?"
Mira beamed. "Team MNGO; didn't I ever tell you?"
Pyrrha shook her head. Mira made a soft hum of contemplation.
"Was Professor Goodwitch always as high-strung as she is now?" Yang asked with a snide smile on her face.
Titus and Mira chuckled. "High-strung? She was the wildest and most laid-back of my entire team."
Titus leaned in. "If anything, both Mira and I were nearly as high-strung as she is now."
"Oh? How bad was she?" Ruby asked the Imperial Guard Lieutenant.
"...Very." A chuckle and a blush from Mira told Jacob everything he needed to know.
Most everyone caught on too; Yang and Blake manage to hold in snickers by the skin of their teeth, Weiss was blushing and looking in all honesty fairly shell-shocked, and Ruby's eyes were as wide as the barrel of a Heavy Bolter and her cheeks were the same color as the red ruffle of her combat skirt.
So much for "innocent" Ruby Rose everyone thought was canonical, Jacob thought to himself.
JNPR wasn't faring much better; Jaune's jaw was reaching for the floor and Ren was blinking and shaking his head in an obvious attempt to blot out the image in his mind. Meanwhile, Pyrrha seemed to be in shock as a massive blush crossed her face as well, and Nora was just barely holding in a humongous laugh of her own, looking like a bubble that was ready to pop.
"Well, I didn't need to know that," Weiss said as she got up and began to walk away to deposit her tray. Ren was quick to follow her, and soon Blake and Nora had followed suit, leaving Jaune, Pyrrha, Ruby, and Yang to remain with them.
"I never in my wildest dreams would have imagined that," Jaune said after a minute. "I don't know how to actually feel about that bit of info."
"Trust me, Mr. Arc," Titus began, reaching out and patting him on the shoulder, "It was something to behold."
Jacob on the other hand was still too busy contemplating this all; Now they were talking about being classmates with Glynda, and last night they mentioned being friends with Team STRQ? What the hell was going on!?
"Well," Pyrrha began, "it's certainly enlightening. But I do have to wonder what happened between then and now to make her... well, herself."
"Age, Pyrrha," Mira said, "age is what happened. Her flings got far less frequent as her Huntress duties grew and grew; by the time our team graduated she maybe had one flame that she kept in contact with just as Titus and I decided to start dating."
"Ah, childhood sweethearts," Pyrrha said as she clasped her hands to her chest, "I never get tired of hearing that story." Across the way Yang snickered at the Mistrali Huntress, only to receive a scowl from Pyrrha in return. The two Imperials chuckled as Jacob watched from his sandwiched spot between them, unsure of how to proceed with the situation.
"Well," Ruby said as she looked up at the clock over the entryway of the cafeteria, "I was nice to see you again, Mr. Ultramar, but classes start up in a half hour and we don't want to be late."
Titus gave them an understanding smile. "It's quite alright," he said, "I wouldn't want Ozpin thinking lowly of you for being late just to talk to us."
The four native Remnantine Huntsman and Huntresses got up, Yang offering a handshake to Titus. "Yeah," she said, "It's a real pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise to you, Ms. Xiao Long. If your father gives you a call, tell him I said hi."
Jaune also shook hands with the Guardswoman and the Ultramarine, clearly making a good impression on them both. With another hug and a peck on the cheek from Mira—that seemed to embarrass Pyrrha a little judging by the faint tinge of scarlet to her cheeks—they began to head out.
Jacob began to get up, only to feel a strong hand hold his shoulder. He froze in place in mild panic; if Titus was still a tried-and-true, biologically-enhanced Space Marine, he could snap Jacob like a gorilla could snap a twig if he moved wrong.
And something told him that he was in big trouble.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Uh, I have class as well, sir—"
"Hey, Jacob," sounded off Yang from 20 feet away, "you coming or what?"
"Sorry kids, Mr. Muller has medical leave for the day," Mira said as she joined her husband's side. "Ozpin's orders after last night."
All four of them shared a look of concern as they stared back at Jacob, a bombardment of worry cast in silver, violet, emerald green and sapphire blue felt the farthest from reassured to Jacob.
"It's alright guys," he said a bit shakily, "Ozpin's orders are Ozpin's orders. I'll catch you guys later."
One by one they turned, Yang being the last one to turn away as she seemed to worry about him.
Honestly, she wasn't the only one worried for his safety.
"Now then, Mr. Muller," Mira said, putting her hand on his other shoulder, "Let's talk."
Jacob felt his stomach clench up. He turned around to look at them, the dread in his heart making him fear for his very existence. Jacob took a deep breath as he physically steeled himself for the oncoming discussion. The smiles they had worn a minute ago now had a visible edge of wariness behind them, as if expecting him to spring up and turn into a Daemon Prince.
"Uhm, what do you mean," he asked in an attempt to play dumb.
"Considering what you said last night," Titus said, "you're hardly fooling anyone at this juncture."
Jacob swallowed hard. "Fair enough... Captain Titus," he said quietly, offering them the gestures of his hands laying across one another with the thumbs hooked to one another and bent at the tips—the Sign of the Aquila.
They both nodded slowly and offered their own in return.
Jacob had no doubts that these two were the real deal. "I know this may seem odd, but I just want to let you know that I'm not actually—"
"We know you're not from The Imperium, which honestly confuses us even more."
Jacob felt his heartbeat jump a couple beats a minute in speed. "W-What are you talking about," he said shakily, still pulling the "play dumb" card.
The two of them rifled through their pockets, Titus reaching into his breast pocket and Mira into her cargo pants.
When they pulled their hands out, they revealed his Lady Commissar and Jump Pack Chapter Master in their hands. Neither said a thing, but rather simply gave him looks—an arched eyebrow from Mira and an unamused stare from Titus—in response.
"Explain—"
"Now."
Jacob felt his stomach retreat to the polar ice caps with how clenched it was at the moment.
"Right... those... shit."
It had been a long time since Cinder Fall was this intrigued by something so mundane as a school boy; Considering her current line of work, such things were hardly a blip on her radar. She was infiltrating a Huntsman Academy to find and kill a Maiden—or at least end her—and locate a Relic of the Old Gods, such trivial matters were hardly worth her time and attention.
And yet... that Muller boy seemed to be getting into all kinds of situations. First, he's the one at the docks that killed that Faunus boy, then he's there to help that team of little girls fight Roman and Eliphas. Now, Mr. Muller was picking a fight with a school bully to protect a Faunus girl he seemed to know.
"How interesting..."
"Cinder?"
Her lackey's question drew her from her thoughts. "Oh, it's nothing. Emerald," she replied as she turned back to the pair of children that now followed her whims like obedient dogs.
The powers of a demigoddess and a slowly-growing army at her disposal. Oh, how it felt to be on top of the world... Well, under Salem of course.
Emerald glowered. "It's him again, isn't it?"
Cinder couldn't help but giggle darkly at her reaction. Emerald was attached to her like a little lost puppy who just found itself a master, and to watch her squirm like that made for an entertaining pass time.
"He's a Lone Wolf," Mercury said from behind a mouthful of scrambled egg. "These guys are practically designed for the limelight."
"That may be," Cinder replied, "but most Lone Wolves don't get as invested in other teams, and most teams don't want to get involved with them."
Emerald cocked an eyebrow in confusion. "What are you talking about, Cinder? Everyone seems fine around him."
"That's because this is Vale," Cinder replied as she raised a manicured finger in reply. "In Vacuo and Atlas, Lone Wolves are far fewer, mainly because they're usually unrulier. Mistral has much more, but they end up sticking to themselves or forming teams of their own in time. Mr. Muller has yet to do either of those things, and furthermore has attached himself to not only one, but two other teams. "
Emerald and Mercury both picked up on her tone: Good, they're learning fast. The pair leaned in closer as Mercury said, "You think there's some shenanigans going on here?"
Cinder smirked and produced her own stolen and reprogrammed Scroll, the frame a deep crimson red in comparison to the usual pale white versions most students were issued. "Watts just finished pulling all of Beacon's files," she murmured lowly, attempting to look no different from the gossiping masses of teenagers that surrounded them. "Notice something?"
Emerald took the Scroll and began filing through, her gaze drilling into the scrolling mass of student information. After a few seconds Cinder could see Jacob's ID image swipe into view. Emerald held for a few seconds, her eyes repeating the same movements over and over again.
"Where's his information?"
"Exactly," Cinder said as she leaned forward.
"No city of birth, there's a date of birth but no certificate to declare it, no hospital records... his nation of origin is, '[REDACTED]'?!"
Mercury leaned back and grunted. "So, he's not from The Kingdoms, big whoop. I don't have any of that information either and Lionheart was able to fake all that stuff—"
A smack over the head from Emerald shut him up quickly.
"But Ozpin didn't."
"Maybe Ozpin's getting more complacent than we thought," Emerald replied.
Cinder didn't pay the idea any creedence. "Then explain Mr. Muller's disdainful reaction to us. How many times have we caught him glaring daggers at us when we have been in the same class as him?"
"What does that have to do with anything," Mercury asked. "Maybe he just doesn't like us."
Cinder felt the urge to grip her nose bridge swell within her. At the same time, a heat rose in her chest, forcing her to breathe harder than normal.
Even now, the Fall Maiden fought back against Cinder taking what was rightfully hers. How pathetic.
"Considering his familiarity with our allies, I highly doubt that."
Emerald studied Cinder for a long minute, clearly trying to get a feel for what the new Fall Maiden was saying. Good girl, Cinder thought, intuitiveness will get you far in this world.
The gears clicked together, forcing Emerald's eyes to go as wide as the moon. "You think he's working with Ozpin?"
Cinder grinned. "I've taught you well," she smugly cooed, "you figured out exactly what I was thinking. I have reason to believe that Mr. Muller may be part of The Inquisition."
"A student in the Inquisition?" Mercury's tone along with his raised eyebrow spoke volumes of what he was pondering.
"Yes, one who clearly learned too much for his own good."
Emerald and Mercury stared at one another with worried looks. "What happens if he figures out the truth?"
"No need to worry, Emerald," Cinder said with a laugh as she reveled in her and Salem's combined brilliance. Dr. Watts has collaborated with Professor Lionheart on a practically ironclad alibi. Even if Mr. Muller did rat on us, there's nothing he could do." She took a sip from her glass of water, faintly wishing it had been a glass of wine or even a solid margarita. To be 24 and passing as a student six years younger is starting to wear on my nerves.
The heat flared up again. Cinder sipped some more water and closed her eyes as she quelled the turmoil. While the Maiden's power gave her access to all elements, Cinder focused primarily on fire and its manipulation; the only downside was that when the power acted rebellious to her, these heat flares would keep happening. Eventually she would begin to train herself to use the others, but for now the raw, destructive power of fire called her more than anything else, and that meant also dealing with the perils and pitfalls of her ascended status.
But the heat was still aggravating, and Cinder wanted to finally get it under her control.
The heat died back down, and the Maiden's power returned to its slumber.
"Although," Cinder said as she pondered the matter a second time around, "perhaps it would be prudent of us to keep an eye on him. In fact, a good idea would be to have ourselves a nice list of the biggest threats to our operation. Jot him down as the first name in the matter."
Emerald nodded before turning her gaze back to the crimson Scroll. A few buttons pressed later and the deed was done; a new list of priority targets had begun to take form.
"Excellent," Cinder said as Emerald returned the Scroll.
"And what about those... what were they called again? The big guys, I mean."
Cinder's smirk became a shadow of itself at Mercury's comment. Of course, she had forgotten about the men Eliphas had warned her about. They could also pose a threat to the whole operation. Regardless, Eliphas and his companions told her not to worry about the matter, ergo she needn't waste her time worrying.
"'The Loyalists' in Ozpin's Inquisition are the concern of Eliphas and the rest of The Eightfold Path," she said calmly, "however, should they request our assistance in the matter we will move to collaborate further. For now, they will continue to aid the White Fang and Torchwick's men and we will continue to undermine the primary body of The Inquisition. Do I make myself clear?"
Emerald seemed to shrink away a bit, bowing her head a bit as if a puppy fearing to be struck. "Of course, Cinder."
The sense of satisfaction slowly began to creep back into her mind. "Good. Now, perhaps it would be prudent of us to actually eat; can't study up on an empty stomach, right?"
The skies over Vale had been clear all morning, the bright sun coasting through the azure skies. The summer heat was finally beginning to come down as the ever-creeping chill of fall inched towards the present. The early monsoon had brought rain in abundance, most days sporting at the bare minimum some cloud cover, yet today for the first time in a month there wasn't a cloud in the sky.
It was as if The Emperor Himself gazed down on this first formal meeting of two realities... or three, rather.
Jacob had half-expected that the entirety of the Imperial population on Remnant would descend upon him, and he also half-expected it would only be Mira and Titus. By some manner of fortune, the latter proved to be the order of the day. The trio had set up a table in the corner of the outdoor patio, away from the main doors so as to not be intruded upon and set up beneath a deep blue umbrella so as to not bake in the summer sun. All three had some manner of drink in hand, Lieutenant Mira sporting a Beacon Academy mug with a strong coffee inside, Titus finding kinship with Jacob in the form of a mug of tea, and Jacob himself sporting his tumbler with enough brew to keep him running for half a day. Between them, a Lord Commissar and a Chapter Master sat in stony silence, nothing more than plastic and acrylic paint to play a game with.
A tense silence hung over the air as the two parties sat face-to-face.
"...Really," Titus said after a long minute of even more silence, all of his incredulity manifesting in a single raised eyebrow.
"...Yes, sir." Jacob replied, his left arm tucked between him and the arm of the wireframe chair beneath him as his right handreached for a satin tag on the inside bottom of his shirt to fidget with.
The ambient noise of the campus took over again. Titus leaned back and looked to Mira, who's eyes were boring into Jacob like a hawk's eyes.
Jacob piecemealed together the reaction. "You don't believe me," he offered.
No reply from either.
Jacob let out a massive and tired sigh. "I don't blame you," he said, "I was sick to my stomach this morning when I put two and two together... and realized all that's implied by this."
Titus pinched the bridge of his nose and seemed to tense up, as if shunning the urge to sigh or groan. Mira leaned forwards, a skeptical look in her eyes.
"So, let me get this straight," she began slowly, "You mean to tell us that you are from Terra—Holy Terra—in the 3rd Millennium."
Jacob nodded. "2017, to be precise."
"But not our Terra," she continued, moving her hand as if to pick up something from above, "another version of Terra where our reality... is a work of fiction for a tabletop strategy game."
Well, he thought, when you put it like that, it sounds stupid and contrived, but...
"Yes. Warhammer 40,000 we call it, or just 40k for some people."
Mira stared at him for a second before cradling her head with a sigh and moan mixed together.
Titus leaned back in beside the Guardswoman, the skeptical eyebrow returning. "How do we know you are telling us the truth?"
Jacob's answer was simple as he reached into his backpack; for some reason when he had packed up his book today he had the nagging urge to re-read everything he could on the various characters of 40k. He produced the 7th Edition Space Marine Codex and the 6th Edition Imperial Guard Codex, slapping them down in front of their respective individuals and then quickly reached in and grabbed the Chaos Marines Codex. A small part of him wondered why the only models he had ended up with were his Imperials; in truth, he had started a small force of Alpha Legion Marines two months before he was whisked away to Remnant, a force that was heavy on HQs mainly for the purpose of putting the Many Heads of the Hydra rule to good use.
The two Imperials stared at the book for a second, then to themselves, then back again. Titus hesitantly picked up the Space Marine Codex and began flipping through, Mira gingerly going through her Codex in turn. Jacob sat back and watched as the pages flipped and their eyes grew wider.
"Now do you believe me?"
The two looked up at him, mouths slightly ajar in shock.
"By the Emperor," Mira muttered as she leaned back in her wireframe chair. Titus moved and carefully held her hand in his without ever looking away from Jacob, the movements seeming like second nature to the duo.
"Okay then," Jacob said with another huff, "do you want me to give you guys a few minutes to process this all or do you want to immediately dive into the literal FAQ you probably have for me?"
Titus held up his hand as if to stop him. Jacob didn't need to be a neurosurgeon to know where Titus was going with that, quickly nodding to affirm the Ultramarine's decision. "However long you need," Jacob muttered softly as he leaned back and pulled out his phone, scrolling through his videos and movies mindlessly. All the while, Mira seemed to be fighting back a classic panic attack, her breathing seemingly getting louder and sharper, her grip on Titus' hand visibly increasing.
Some logical part of Jacob's mind was screaming at the current situation like a hurricane. Here he was, bog-standard human Jacob Muller from Earth, sitting across from two heroes of the eternal warfare of the Grimdark Future, and yet he was the one who was the calmest at this junction; How!? These two had stared down six to seven-foot-tall Orks and all kinds of breeds of Chaos—not to mention whatever else Titus had fought during his doubtless centuries of service before becoming a Captain of one of the most prestigious chapters in the Imperium—and yet they were having a mental crisis?
And on top of that, there was still that little classic fanboy in the back of his mind having a field day of raw excitement at the prospect of meeting the icons of a 30-year-old franchise.
Mira shuttered and seemed to relax a bit more again, the panic seeming to retreat from her posture; her shoulders loosened up, her grip in Titus' hand lightened up, and her breathing seemed to even out.
Jacob leaned in with concern. "You okay, ma'am?"
Mira nodded. "Yes," she said, "I just... I don't know what make of this all."
Jacob gave her an understanding look. "You wouldn't be the first one; Coming to Remnant put me in an existential crisis at first, and just this morning realizing that you guys were... well, the real deal, I had a second crisis. I'm pretty certain that's partially why I'm not freaking out as much as I really should be."
Titus looked up, his eyes bright with some unspoken thought. "You speak of Remnant as if you've seen it before," he said. "And judging by the fact that Vulkan said you were aware of Salem's existence that means that you're aware of the greater world of Remnant."
Jacob felt his stomach flip and the rebuttal halt in this throat; He had already compromised so much information just through some minor interactions and he hadn't even realized it. He put his left arm up and leaned in on his hand in exasperation with himself. "so much for 'knowledge is power,'" he chided to himself, all the while scratching his temple with his fingers.
"So then I take it Remnant is also a fictitious world to you," Titus deduced without a hint of hesitation.
Jacob looked up at him. "...Yes," he finally said, feeling as though his plan was shattering like struck glass. "Damn, that didn't take you long at all to completely shatter my façade. Okay, listen," he began, leaning in, "I wasn't expecting to also tell you this—hell, I never expected any of this—but... in my world the world of Remnant is the setting for an animation series by a group called Rooster Teeth—particularly this one guy named Monty Oum created it. And that series' name is... well... RWBY."
The silence swept away their conversation again. For around five seconds, they both stared at him, the gears clicking away as Jacob felt the urge to fidget with his tag again.
"RWBY... as in Ms. Rose, or her team?"
Jacob felt the urge to balk at Titus' reaction. "Uhh, her team—the team's name is the title," he replied.
"...So, that's how you also knew about our goddaughter and her team as well, right?"
"Wow, you are just a regular detective, Captain; then again, as a geneseed-son of Roboute Guilliman, I would expect no less from you. But... yes. Team JNPR is the deuterogamist team of the show."
Mira cradled her face and began muttering something that sounded vaguely like bastardized Latin.
"Here's your proof, if you're actually interested," he said, carting out his phone and pulling up the episode in which he dropped in, Players and Pieces.
The two gingerly held his smartphone and stared down at the tiny screen. For a few minutes he sat there, nervously drumming his fingers on the table. They set the phone down on the table a minute after the telltale cry of "Let's hit it with everything we've got" from Yang left the speakers and watched the whole way through, their eyes glued to it.
With Titus' eyes still scanning the scene, Mira looked up and simply said, "Okay, I believe you."
Jacob leaned back as he took a long, deep breath. "So, here's a question on my end," Jacob began hesitantly, not wanting to overstep his bounds. "How in The Emperor's name did you—all of you—get here?"
Mira and Titus both shared a look of concern for a second before Mira answered.
"We all died in service to The Emperor."
That rose both of Jacob's eyebrows. "All of you... died back in the Imperium?"
The nodded in unison. "Titus and I were aboard an Inquisitor's Valkyrie when we were ambushed by a straggler force of damned greenskins."
"Forge World Graia," Jacob said, nodding as he remembered the events of Space Marine; But Mira never joined Titus onboard the Valkyrie in the game's ending, instead remaining with her Guardsmen regiment while Titus was taken in for questioning by the Ordo Hereticus. "You killed that Chaos Sorcerer Nemeroth just as he started ascending to Daemon Princehood."
Mira looked at him with a scrutinizing eye.
"Yeah, your story was chronicled in a video game from 2011," Jacob replied, "in my opinion the best 40k video game on the market besides the Dawn of War games where Gabriel and the Blood Ravens came from. The funny thing is that the game ended with only Titus getting on the Valkyrie, and you remained with your regiment... or at least what remained."
Titus looked thoughtfully into the sky. "Perhaps by the Emperor's Will our fates were changed."
"Or some fourth-dimensional Warp-fuckery," Jacob mumbled under his breath, "both are equal culprits really. But, here's the really confusing bit, your teammates; How did the Forgefather of the Salamanders, the Great Wolf of the Vylka Fenrika and the Chapter Master of The Blood Ravens die? As of the most recent events in canon, they're supposed to all still be alive." Jacob felt a drop of sweat trickle down the back of his neck, congratulating him for not once mentioning the Fall of Cadia or Guilliman's rebirth. Their worlds were already rocky and cracking as it was, no need to add one's geneseed-progenitor waking up and the other's world getting rammed by a Blackstone Fortress to their list of mindfucks today.
"Well," Titus began, "I would prefer that you ask them on their own; I am not one to divulge the secrets of my friends with their say-so."
Jacob huffed and nodded. "Fair enough," he replied. "But then that also leaves me with another question. If you died in the Milky Way at whatever age you were, how is it that you are part of a team with the other Astartes," he said as he pointed to Titus, "and you were on a team with Glynda Goodwitch?"
"When we arrived," Mira said, shifting in her chair, "We had become much younger. When I first awoke, I was met with the image of an ten-year-old boy trapped in Astartes Power Armor." At the mention of the boy she started giggling and was clearly holding back a laugh
"And I was met with the image of an eight-year-old brunette girl stumbling forwards in boot, fatigues and a set of flak armor far too large for her," Titus replied as a chuckle wormed its way through that sentence.
Jacob's brow rose high again. "You guys physically regressed back into kids?"
They both nodded as they wound down their laughter. "Afterwards we were taken up by a local orphanage on the outskirts of Vale," Titus said. "Not long afterwards we met Gabriel and Vulkan, and by the time we were in Beacon we had established a small network of other Imperials spread across Remnant through CCT codes that only Imperials would understand."
"Beacons for Imperials to follow," Jacob deduced. "Nice. So, wait, that means that, if you were regressed to ten years old... you're no longer an Astartes proper—the training's still there, but your geneseeds are MIA—right?"
"Exactly."
"Huh. So you're a completely normal human—albeit with several centuries of combat training and a physical boost from your Aura. Cool. So, what did you do with your Power Armor?"
"Hid it for a few years, now we store it away at home or we take it in our personal ship."
At the words "personal ship" Jacob had the strangest idea what it was they were talking about. "No way," he said with a grin. "It came through too?"
Titus and Mira both smiled. "Indeed. Took us 4 years and a ton of tinkering to fix her, but she's all ours now."
Jacob chuckled at the idea of an Imperial Guard Valkyrie thundering past any Bullhead in the skies. "I'd love to see her fly." Just then, something occurred to him. "You've been remarkably alright with divulging this information to me, despite the fact that for all you know I could be an agent of Salem or of the Chaos Gods. Why?"
Titus leaned in closely, Jacob's phone in his hand. "Because a member of Salem's cabal would have an underlying malice to them," he said in a low tone, "and a servant of Chaos—even one like The Deciever—would act outright mad and no doubt try to convert people. I see no malice in you, Mr. Muller, not like I have seen in any of those of the Eightfold Path, and you certainly carry no darkness in your eyes as one might see in an agent of Salem."
Golden eyes and raven black hair crossed Jacob's mind. Has he figured out Cinder?
"Speaking of the agents of Chaos," Jacob realized, "I have to wonder if the Dark Gods sent Eliphas here... and judging by the fact you mentioned a group, he's not the only one."
"There are a few others, we can bring you up to speed later," Mira said, "But our classes start up in a half hour and, well, these students still need training." At the same time, Titus handed him his smartphone, gripping it by the base.
Jacob took back his phone and began to put it away before a thought crossed his mind. They were now believing his story and were currently the only people who did now the truth about him. At that he could just stop there and just keep them in confidentiality with that knowledge alone.
But that image of Pyrrha hugging the Ultramarine and the Guardswoman, their smile so bright and happy, Pyrrha's laughter ringing in his mind...
Fuck it all, I really shouldn't do this.
"Wait," he said, "before you leave... there's one more thing I should tell you." Jacob took his mug and downed a 4-second long swig of Earl Grey. He paused for a second as they stared at him.
"Before you start asking questions," he murmured lowly, his pulse rising and his stomach fluttering away, "There's another reason why I put myself in this situation. I'm not here on some philanthropic quest for the people of Remnant... at least not directly."
He shuffled through his videos to Volume 3.
"Just before I left, they announced Volume 5 would come out... right about now back home, actually," he said, pausing midway through to look down at his watch for the date: 3 months behind, it was the start of July here—sonofabitch, I missed the 4th—and that meant it was the start of October back home. "Now, Volume 5 is supposed to take place next fall if I understand some of the producers' comments. Volume 4 was about six to eight months from now... but Volume 3 is during the Vytal Festival. And there are several incidents incited by Salem."
Both eyed him warily. "Define 'incidents'," Titus slowly said.
Jacob took a deep breath; it was now or never. "Two separate incursions into Vale with Grimm and White Fang forces," he said, bracing for an outburst. "One a few weeks prior that used underground tunnels from Mountain Glenn, and the other one by all account a full-on invasion force near the end of the Festival that sweeps through the city. They... take out the CCT Tower in search of something."
Titus and Mira both looked to one another, surprise and urgency in their eyes.
"But that's not the only thing. The students join the fight, and they do quite well against both the Grimm and the White Fang... but there are casualties."
He scrolled through the roster, never taking his eyes off of them as the gears whirred into overdrive in both their heads.
He stopped when the episodes in Volume 3 ended.
Chapter 12.
The End of the Beginning.
"Now," he continued, "back home when all of this,"—he held out his hands as if holding a massive box or some other prop of gargantuan size—"was just a show, my favorite character was, in fact, your goddaughter, Pyrrha Nikos. Now, she's been training me and Jaune how to be actually good Huntsmen, and I don't think I could ever repay her enough for that... but she deserves to be spared this."
Jacob slid his phone back after moving the video to 9:00 minutes in.
"I'm training to become a Huntsman because two people in particular whom are well-loved by the fans are killed during the fighting, another one is dismembered... and I want to stop that from happening."
He tapped the play button. Without thinking he squeezed his eyes shut.
Grunts and the sound an arrow being loosed.
A cracking sound, followed by the very same sound, but reversed.
The thwack of an arrow meeting an Achilles tendon.
Pyrrha's cry of pain, a sharp gasp joining it. He felt his pulse racing, his mind tracing the scene as if it were second nature by now.
"No..." The low tones of Mark Strong reached for his ear and found purchase in his heartstrings.
Slow violin music as the sound of Pyrrha groaning and the sound of something snapping joined in.
"It's unfortunate that you were promised a power that was never truly yours."
Jacob's hands balled in fury, his heart racing. He could remember the scene... only now in his mind it was in 3-D.
"But take comfort in know that I will use it ways you never imagined."
Here it comes...
"Do you believe in destiny?"
"...Yes."
His eyes were burning, his heart was racing. It had been hard back on Earth—back where such a reaction was stupid and childish and frankly insane—but being here... it was like watching a death warrant being fulfilled.
The sound of a bow being drawn.
Footsteps. Ruby coming to the rescue. An impact of boot and knee.
Thiwsh. The whistle of an arrow. Thwack.
Pyrrha's gasp.
The sound of another woman gasping again, barely holding in a scream.
Pyrrha's strangled gasps.
Jacob's eyes were magma in his sockets, and the telltale feeling of tears on his cheeks; The floodgates were holding by the skin of their teeth.
A searing sound, and the sound of wind. A mourning chorus.
"PYRRHAAA—!"
Jacob reached out for the phone and slammed his hand on the center of the screen. The sound stopped and again silence returned.
Only the sound of ragged, terrified and sorrowful breathing reached his ears.
He slowly opened his eyes, finding his world to be blurred by man-made rain.
Both Imperials were staring horrified at him, Titus mixing in a stare of outrage.
"What... was that?" Titus said, a fury laying beneath his voice.
Jacob was silent for a minute as he forced the waterworks back down his tear ducts as best as he could. "I'm sorry I had to show you that. But... that... is why I weaseled my way into Beacon," Jacob said, stuttering and cracking his way through the sentence. "Because I mentally buried her back on Earth... and I don't want to have to bury Pyrrha Nikos for real."
The floodgates began failing. A pair of tears escaped each eye respectively.
"Please," he began. "I was set to do this on my own because I thought I had no allies to go to... because I thought if I changed canon too much any of the rest of them could be in equal or more peril and I couldn't be there to spare them a fate like that."
The floodgates failed in full measure. "They don't deserve a cruelty like that... least of all, a girl like Pyrrha doesn't deserve it..." His breathing was starting to get ragged. His arms were outstretched into the center of the table and he desperately fought the urge to cower with his face behind his hands like a scared child. The deluge burned onwards.
"But I can't do this on my own," he croaked through his tears. "Please."
He felt as though he had cried for minutes on end by now, easily ten if he was right.
He felt warm hands shakily wrap around his own. He looked up.
Across the table, Mira was gripping his hands with her own, the stained warpath of tears evident on her face too.
"How can we help save our goddaughter?"
Jacob was speechless, though he was still sniffing and biting back even more tears. "You believe me?"
"The evidence is right there, why wouldn't we?"
"But for all you know I could be lying, I could have fabricated the video—"
"Those tears are real," the Cadian replied, "and by The God Emperor no trickster of Chaos could manifest a real tear in his damned heathen life. You're telling the truth; Pyrrha—our goddaughter—is in danger, more so than any Huntress or Huntsman in this school."
Jacob felt his heart slowing as revelation closed on him. He looked up at Titus.
He was met with a skeptical but furious look.
"I can't make heads or tails about this situation," he admitted with a huff, "but if Pyrrha and her friends are in harm's way, then let Salem tremble; This Angel of Death is on the hunt."
Jacob felt elation in his heart; maybe this wasn't such an impossible task after all.
"Courage and Honour, Ultramarine," he said as the burning began to subside. "Thank you."
Mira nodded. "If you'll let us," she began, "We'll tell the rest of our brothers what's going on."
"In all honesty, Mira," Titus replied, "We should instead go to Ozpin."
Jacob felt the shadow of a smile he was wearing rush away. "Uhm, sir," he stuttered through the last remaining sobs, "with all due respect, I don't know if he would interfere with the timeline too much."
Titus looked down, a sarcastic skepticism etched into his strong features. "Then in that case, what would you recommend?"
Whether or not there was supposed to be a biting tone to it or not, Jacob cringed in embarrassment. "Sorry, Captain—"
"—Titus, please—"
"—Right then... Titus, I think our best bet is to keep this among us metaphorical immigrants to this reality; just us and your fellow Imperials. We aren't in the original story, so perhaps we are the best ones to work towards our ultimate goal."
"...I suppose that makes some sense. That gives us my whole team, VLAT, Darnath and his family, Pythol, Amhrad, Dan—"
"Amhrad? Artor Amhrad of the Astral Knights? And that was the Darnath Lysander we met last night, right?"
"Yes, along with his wife, Inquisitor Spinoza, and their daughter Rey."
"Yeah," Jacob said, "I-I recognized Spinoza from the first 40k novel I read, The Carrion Throne. She served under Inquisitor Crowl, owned an Imperial Fist crozius, et cetera. I just, well, was kinda surprised he'd be here too; even among fans there are plenty of people who see Captain Lysander as stubborn to the point of being unkillable."
the Ultramarine said with a sigh. "Right. Well, we can discuss this later when class is out, but for now we have classes to attend. Apologies."
Jacob drew his hands in and began to straighten up, the burn of his tears nearly gone. "Right, right," he agreed, voice still cracking a bit, "we still have our duties to attend to. I should be the one apologizing; I've probably fucked up your mood for the day anyhow."
"No, no," Mira said as she too got up, "there's nothing to apologize for. You made a high-risk decision, there's nothing wrong with that. We'll be fine, but will you be?"
Jacob conjured a weak smile. "I, uh, I think so," he said after a few seconds, "I have this odd habit, I can at least on the surface bounce back for a bit. So... I guess it's until we meet again."
In a last gesture, he again laid both of his hands over his chest, the palms directly over one another as he locked thumbs; one more Sign of the Aquila.
"Ave Imperator."
Mira smiled before responding back as hands mirrored the Sign. "Ave Imperator," she said gently. And with that, the two began to walk away, Titus turning around to watch Jacob as the boy in turn watched the two Imperials walk off towards the classrooms.
Suddenly, things didn't feel so grim.
For a minute, he sat there, assessing his situation.
He was now more or less partners with at the very minimum several of the biggest damn heroes of the Imperium of Man, something he would have never dreamt of in his wildest fever dreams.
Jacob clasped his hands over his head as he weakly smiled.
"Thank you, God..."
Then his ear caught a rustle from some nearby bushes. Not the kind of rustling from the wind blowing through.
More like someone hiding in the bushes had just moved.
It had been off to his left, towards the edge of the mess hall's large patio. There, a trio of—well, what were those odds—juniper bushes.
Jacob turned. A figure darted from the bush and towards the dormitories.
They had heard every word.
What if it was Mercury? What if it was Emerald?
What if it was Cinder?
Jacob didn't have the luxury of letting them go in that case. "Hey! Get back here!"
He took off after them, having to speed after them while trying to awaken his Aura to give him that needed boost. It was awakening too slowly and the person was slowly getting ahead of him. What could he do?
They rounded a corner and Jacob followed suit, finding himself thundering down a walkway outside the main hall where the majority of the classes were. Already most were in-session, leaving th walking path free of hazardous pedestrians.
"Stop!"
His cries didn't stop them outright, but they did seem to slow down. The figure he now noticed was wrapped in a dark green cloak and were running in what looked like either black boots or black pumps judging by the thick soles of their shoes.
Emerald, he haphazardly deduced, being Cinder's bitch as usual.
His Aura screamed awake at the mention of her name. His lungs stopped burning and so did his legs. He started gaining on her as the continued forwards, but it was still not enough.
Just then, he realized that whoever it was, they didn't know where they were going. This path along the building led to a dead end at the back of the dormitories... and the only way out was through Jacob.
"Got you know," he hissed venomously.
They both rounded a corner and soon enough Jacob saw his confirmation; nothing but several levels of concrete wall in her path.
They stopped and turned around, a clear look of panic in their posture.
Jacob skidded to a halt 10 feet away. "Give it up," he said, "whatever that information you got, I want that too."
"What information?" A clearly female voice.
And then, a hiccup.
A pale hand shot out and cordially covered the area where the mouth was supposed to be.
"Who are you!? Show yourself!"
Slowly, the figure came to the sad, sad conclusion that there was nowhere to run. "I'm so sorry," the obvious girl said. She reached up and pulled back the hood.
He was met with ginger red hair, blue-green eyes, a pink bow and a cute little ahoge.
And Jacob wondered if his stomach would ever get any semblance of rest.
"...Penny!?"
Whoop, situation just escalated.
Also, I think I just figured out Talking No Jutsu... just like the whole of Volume 5. Heyooo~!
Seriously, before I end this, I just have to say that... while there were some cool parts ot Volume 5 (Cinder vs. Raven, THE GUNCHUCKS CAME BACK, and a character showed up that will give the shippers of our glorious FNDM more than enough fuel for all their demented Magical Lesbian Spawn) But most of it was just sitting around and talking and even in the fucking fights there were plenty of instances where they just stood around when their partners/allies were in trouble!
I get that Rooster Teeth is on a time-crunch and a budget, but now adding an additional animated series on top of still trying to figure out how to do RWBY right... well fuck, they need an industrial-level of additional animators and writers to pull this off if they honestly wanna keep the 8-month hiatus deadline.
Just my two thoughts on the matter.
Also, on the 40k side of things, who else is intrigued by the new Adeptus Custodes Codex? That's sure to be a metric ton of asswhoopin's... and more than a fair share of Fabstodes conversions are probably also on the way too. *Pillar Men Theme Intensifies*
And I just started classes and still have 50 Grey Knights to paint up on commission, only now the due date's in March. All the while I decide to be stupid and build an Alpha Legion army. Oi...
Anyways, reviews, comments, critiques and the like are always welcomed and appreciated (Lord knows that I feel that this chapter was weak), if you like the story feel free to Follow and Favorite and as always I will see you all in the next chapter... Buh-bye~!