-Semblance of Brotherhood-
Chapter 9: Forever Fall
Silva jerked upright, a hand clasped tightly over his mouth as beads of icy sweat dripped from his brow onto his thumb. A torrent of panic and fear pulsed along with the rapid beating of his heart, but those feelings slowly began to drift once he was able to process where he was. Wide, cerulean eyes drank in the sight of a bland yet familiar dormitory. A glance to his left revealed the vague outlines of three prone forms, all laying in beds identical to his own. Pale moonlight filtered through drawn curtains as he let his hand fall back to the bed, giving way to quick, feverish breaths that failed to calm after several moments.
I'm losing my fucking mind, aren't I? What was I even drea...ming…
Images flashed in still frames through his mind.
Blood. Snow.
A Scythe.
Mom.
Something twisted in his gut, and with uneasy footing he stumbled from his bed to where he knew a bathroom to be, just a few feet away. He ripped the door open, the sickly sensation in his stomach spilling over as he fell to his knees at the toilet. His body heaved, eyes clenched shut as he gagged on the bile which forced its way from his throat. Time ceased to exist. For what felt like an eternity, he sat there. Even when he could vomit no more, his insides seared and spasmed, the pain so intense that his eyes burned with tears.
After a time, it finally passed. In its wake he was left shaking, muscles clenched tight as the nausea swept over him.
"F-fuck..." He breathed, pushing himself to the side and falling limply onto the tile floor.
Five hours later...
The soft breeze which greeted him upon stepping off the Bullhead did wonders to even him out, somehow. Vibrant autumn-colored leaves painted the forest in a beautiful off-red haze while the deep thrum of the airship cast a subtle, rhythmic buzz in his chest.
Depending on how this goes, I may be returning here sometime. Even better than the perch back in Beacon.
"Alright, children, let's not idle about. Each Team approach, take a crate of jars, and have it back here, full, by sundown." Mrs. Goodwitch announced, swiftly stepping aside so that the student's could get to work. He turned to look at Cardin, nodding to the woods around them as he explained.
"I'm going to find a clearing to use. It's essential that we have a decent open area to manage the Grimm in. Make one of them get the jars, and meet up with me in ten minutes." He said, his tone clipped and words to the point. Cardin simply gave him a sharp nod, before moving to deal with their Teammates just behind them.
They didn't crack jokes, or waste time with idle, useless conversation. There was no sneaking off to bully their inferiors, or anything short of being efficient in the tasks assigned to them. Sky filed into line for the jars while Russel moved to the east in search of a clearing.
He did not order them around, they'd come to that understanding back on their first day as a Team. It was how they'd managed to not tear each other apart, how he'd indirectly molded them into a cohesive three man unit-plus one.
Silva did not give orders. He didn't expect them to follow his every demand.
But when he did have something to say, they knew it was in their best interest to listen.
It wasn't hard to find a clearing, given his Semblance. Maybe two or three minutes of casting his senses across the forest and he'd honed in on a fairly large opening in the forest. He cupped his hands to his mouth, and sounded a three-noted whistle that he'd shown the others before the trip. After a few seconds, three more whistles of the same variety responded to his own, the message having been received and confirmed.
Melting into the shadow of a nearby tree, Silva moved over to the clearing and took stock of the situation. Right off he noticed two Beowolves across from him, probably thirty feet if he had to guess. Eyes flicking from side to side, he was able to say for certain that these were the only Grimm in the area at the moment.
Without so much as a whisper, he rose from one's shadow with a precise thrust, impaling its heart before it could properly register his existence. A flick of the wrist later, he'd lopped off the other's left arm as it lunged at him before snapping Regalis high and cleaving through the beast's throat. Black ichor splattered against his face before sizzling lightly as it began to evaporate.
That was a sloppy decapitation. I need to work on my cutting angles a bit while I'm here.
As he made his way back to the opposite side of the clearing, he spotted the rest of his Team setting up the tap. Russel was on sap-duty, while Sky and Cardin stood at the ready around him, spear and mace propped over their shoulders. Cardin met his gaze as he approached, "I was expecting more Grimm." He said plainly, almost looking a bit bored.
"Don't complain about an easy mission." Silva snipped back casually, taking up a position in front of both Sky and the Winchester. Cardin dropped the conversation, as he should have, turning his eyes back to the treeline. It seemed they'd been blessed with a peaceful lull for the moment, but after a jar or two they knew that Grimm were bound to pick up on their scent.
For several minutes, all was quiet. The only sounds he could pick up were those of the rustling trees and the periodic drip of treesap acculmulating in their jars.
Then, as their third jar came close to reaching half capacity, his ears flicked as they caught the distinct snap of a branch to his right. Cardin seemed to hear it as well, turning his head to get a better look before his frame tensed and his mace came to bare. "Four Beo's, one Ursa!" He snapped, feet grinding into the dirt as he held his ground. After checking to make sure they wouldn't be flanked, Silva flickered over to the small party of Grimm and began his slaughter with a clean slash all the way through the nearest Beowolf's waist. He swayed back immediately, the outstretched claws of another ghosting through where he'd been a moment ago. Before it could follow up, Silva dropped a heavy stomp onto its knee that knocked it off balance, which he capitalized on by goring the thing's throat.
"Incendiary shell incoming!" Cardin barked from behind him, to which Silva teleported a yard or so to the left just as a massive Dust shell collided with the earth within two or so feet of the Grimm. An instant later, Silva felt a light concussive shockwave roll over him as the immediate area around the beasts was engulfed in flames. Without bothering to waste time confirming the kills, Silva snapped his head over to Sky.
"Handle that fire, I'll watch your post." Without another word, Sky darted over to the collateral damage caused by Cardin's grenade, his Aura pulsing ever so faintly as the air around him stilled completely. He must have dispersed the air around the flames, because not a moment later the fire seemed suffocate out of nowhere.
He's getting better. Still not combat-ready, but it's at least got enough utility now to actually be helpful.
Moving back to his original post, Silva couldn't help but notice something... off.
Where's the wildlife?
They hadn't seen a single living thing the entire time they'd been there. In fact, the only natural sound he'd heard since stepping off the Bullhead was the wind brushing against his ears.
Glancing up, he was met with an ominous, overcast sky. Grey clouds rolled across the horizon, and normally he's have just made note of it and moved on. Now, though, it seemed too sudden. Too well-timed.
A drop of rain collided with his lip. Then another, and soon he and his Team were caught in a downpour.
"Fucking damn it! I thought it wasn't supposed to rain till this weekend." He heard Russel growl, suddenly making this whole, strange picture click his head.
"Keep you heads on a swivel. Thrush, leave the sap and take up my six. Something's up." Silva announced suddenly, causing his Teammates to give him a confused look before scanning the now obscure treeline around them. The rain only grew in intensity.
He wasn't sure specifically what he was reacting to. There was just a certain... mood in the air. It was so thick with forboding that he was actually getting goosebumps.
Then, as he looked closer at the edge of the clearing, his Faunus vision revealed the source of his paranoia.
Grimm.
The entire forest floor was soaked in pitch black, the shifting masses peppered with twinkling red pinpricks. He couldn't discern individuals in the thick of the storm, but there had to be hundreds.
Thousands.
"Retreat. Back to the Bullhead, NOW!" He shouted, turning on a dime and bursting into a full sprint. It took the others another half second to react, falling into step behind him. They tore through the underbrush, pushing their Aura to the fore to smash through like wrecking balls.
It took them less than a minute to get back, other Teams were already gathered around the airship with a myriad of expression among them. Fear. Confusion. Naive grins of anticipation. Grim acceptance.
He felt equal parts the first and the last.
Professor Goodwitch didn't speak to them, just gave Silva a nod of acknowledgement as they stopped near Teams RWBY and JNPR. He briskly paced over to Pyrrha, who had a very uneasy look about her.
"What's going on? Why aren't we loading into the Bullhead?" He asked immediately, to which she drew in a long, shaky breath.
"The electrical systems that control the ship are messed up for some reason. We're... stuck." She explained, her grip on Milo white and trembling. He didn't blame her, not in the least. If they couldn't leave, this was easily a worst-case scenario. Just the sheer mass of Grimm he'd seen back in the clearing would be enough to wear them down over time.
"Just focus on keeping each other alive. That's all we can do." He said, hoping to help her get ahold of herself. She nodded, more to herself than him.
"Right."
And just like that, everything went to hell.
Something massive crashed into the Bullhead from above, the world flashing white as a powerful explosion slammed into their backs. His feet left the ground for at least two seconds before he slammed into the dirt back-first.
The daze from the explosion was short-lived, Aura cushioning the concussive force enough that he was able to throw himself to his feet almost immediately. A glance to either side showed his fellow students scattered about the area, Teams jumbled and mixed. He spotted Blake a few feet away, as well as the Arc boy and Pyrrha, who'd seemingly latched onto him as to not lose each other.
He made his way over, reaching them just as Grimm began to spill forth from the trees.
"Everyone alright?" He asked, recieving nods from each. "In that case, find your Teams and form up on the Bullhead." They seemed to agree with that, Blake's eyes lighting up as she noticed something over his shoulder.
"Yang! Over here!" She shouted, reaching high with one arm to get the blonde's attention. Silva turned away, flickering over to a stray student who'd been flung especially far and cleaved a Beowolf in two as it tried to flank the boy.
"Move towards the fire!" He barked, causing the kid to bolt back towards the airship. Silva took the brief moment to scan the thrity or so other students around him. Team RWBY was all together already, JNPR as well. After a moment he finally caught sight of Sky and Russel, who were in the midst of cutting down a small group of Beowolves, with even more Boarbatusk on the approach.
They can handle it. Need to get Cardin.
He didn't need to look very hard. The moment his focus returned to the group, he was met with the sight of his partner atop the now smoking Bullhead, raining Dust shells upon the Grimm below. He wasn't alone, either, Ruby and several other ranged Huntsmen were posted up in the wreckage, the fires swiftly tamed by the rain.
He sprinted over to them, teleporting to Cardin's side. The boy's eyes flicked over to him in acknowledgement.
"I'll use my Semblance to look for a way out of this hellhole, keep the others alive!" Silva had to half-shout, melting into shadow before his Teammate could reply.
No time, no time, no time, think faster, damn it!
With Cardin...
Bastard. Just up and vanishes.
The roar of another shell incinerating a multitude of Grimm fell flat on his ears, his hands numbly letting his next cartridge slide down the barrel of his mace before bringing the launcher up to take aim.
Burn, you ugly fucks!
He planted this shell in the middle of a whole pack of Beowolves, the incendiary Dust cloaking them in flames. He couldn't help but hope his other Teammates were faring well.
Gotta trust Sky and Russel to stay safe, focus on keeping these fucking creeps away from the Bullhead.
Grip tightening, he loosed yet another round into the black masses which poured endlessly from across the clearing. Cardin reached for the next shell, only to grasp nothing. A pang of panic hit him, but he just as quickly shoved it down.
Or I could just run out of fucking ammo!
A frustrated growl escaped his clenched jaws as he leapt down into the melee, bringing his mace down on an Ursa as he landed. The blow cracked against the back of its head, caving in the skull in a single blow. He torqued his body to the right, letting his weapon lag behind to build momentum before slamming it into a Beowolf's snout with enough sheer force to remove its lower jaw. He let his stance spin with the strike, before twisting the angle and bringing it back down in a crushing hammer-strike to the top of its head.
"Cardin!" A familiar voice called to him, the worry in his chest vanishing and Sky and Russel slid to a stop in front of him, the latter turned to the Grimm to watch their backs. "What do we do? I haven't seen Silva anywhere!" Lark asked.
"He's looking for a route we can take out of this damned forest, for now we just gotta stay alive!" He explained, but he didn't see how Sky responded.
He was too busy staring at the full murder of adult Nevermore that were descending from the clouds.
"Nevermore! Focus on their wings!" He heard Goodwitch yell, but by the time the words would have helped it was far too late. The first slammed into the Bullhead like a train falling at terminal velocity. Talons the size of his body shredded into the already twisted and scorched hull like aluminum foil. His frame stumbled back, a rush of air buffeting him as the massive thing lifted the wreckage into the air.
Oh god.
He saw bodies falling from the now mulched Bullhead, others who hadn't left the perch in time. The fall was already too far. The wet crack of their bones crumbling and the sound of Aura shattering didn't even feel real.
He watched as one of their corpses was beset by Grimm. Bloody sprayed as arteries were roughly ripped open, but there were no cries. The kid was already dead.
"Fall back to the trees!" The sound of Goodwitch's stern, cold commands pierced his trance in an instant, his body moving of its own accord in a careful backpedal towards the treeline behind them. The next Grimm to approach were nearly a dozen Beowolves, with a trio of Ursai not far behind. His head snapped to his Teammates.
"We're going to cover them. Let's move!" He announced, the both of them giving him a wide-eyed look. "That's a fucking order! Make sure everyone gets out of this clearing!" Cardin bellowed, his mace caving a Beowolf's skull before catching the next's overhead swipe on the shaft. He planted a boot into its chest with a mighty surge of Aura, sending tumbling back into the black horde.
The two seemed to get with the program, fanning out and aiding their peers wherever people were getting overwhelmed. It wasn't much, but he wasn't about to just break down and run away.
We're gonna do this right. I won't let anyone else die.
He shifted to the side, mace swinging in an upward circle as a Boarbatusk attempted to gore him. The blades of his weapon ripped into the soft underflesh of it, the sheer momentum sending the pig-Grimm flying.
Then he fell back five paces, and waited for the next.
With Silva...
Ichor dampened his clothes as he ripped Regalis' black-stained blade from the dissolving corpse of another Grimm. He didn't look to see what kind, just melted back into the darkness as dozens more swarmed where he'd been.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
He'd seen the moment Nevermore descended on his classmates. Each individual Nevermore was easily as big as the one he'd killed during Initiation.
Please move for the trees, don't leave yourselves open.
He started back in their direction. He kept a steady pace, conserving Aura as best he could, and made it back nearly a full five minutes later.
He reformed next to Goodwitch, who was near the head of the group, doing her part in driving the Grimm away while they moved through the trees. She noticed him within a second, expression cold.
"What is it, Mr. Taro? You should be helping your Team in the back, I-" He cut her off.
"Did the Bullhead carry an emergency distress beacon?" He bit out, her nodding in return.
"Ozpin already knows we're out here. There should be another Bullhead on the way with backup within the next half hour, another two for them to find us." She explained, which managed to quell his panic somewhat.
"Meaning we need to get to high ground, and weather the storm. I found a hill that should work, just follow me." She nodded again, turning to the other students.
"Everyone! We're moving to higher ground, stay close to each other!"
Silva cast his gaze to the steep hill he'd referenced, giving himsel a brief moment to get his shit together.
Focus on the present.
Hello again!
So... I might have done a little tinkering with the direction of this story. Originally, I was going to wait till the Volume finale to make any massive canon divergence, but it occured to me that it wouldn't really make sense that way. Salem and Cinder both like to be very progressive, discreet or not, so it would be weird for them to leave Silva around and not do anything. Loose ends and that stuff.
Oh and, uh, WARNING: PLOT ARMOR WILL CEASE TO EXIST FROM HERE ON. IF A CHARACTER IS IN A HOPELESS SITUATION, I WILL NOT PULL SOMETHING OUT OF MY ASS JUST TO SAVE THEM. THEY EITHER SURVIVE OR THEY DON'T.
Buh-Bye!!!