Here we are, let's get going.
"This is Lisa Lavender reporting, now presenting a special segment on a rising group within Valean politics: The New Dawn. They describe themselves as champions of traditional Valean values who aren't afraid to get tough against enemies foreign and domestic, especially when it comes to the White Fang and their faunus supporters. Their critics have decried them as reactionary racists, espousing only pro-humanity ideals.
"The New Dawn is not a new party, tracing its roots back as far as the Great War, where they were initially formed by veterans who lobbied the government to take a hard line against the faunus people, helping push the establishment of Menagerie and the subsequent relocation of many faunus communities to the island.
"After achieving that goal, as well as numerous other anti-faunus policies, the New Dawn faded from prominence, primarily living on through familial and military ties, only sporadically flaring back into action in any meaningful way.
"Recently, the New Dawn was little more than a veteran's group that met semi-regularly and participated in few protests in recent years, either supporting controversial measures that some considered discriminatory, or decrying attempts to further liberalize Vale's treatment of the faunus. However, that has all changed in just the last month.
"The New Dawn has had a change in leadership, with the charismatic Frederick Fantoche. An administrative genius, Fantoche took control of the New Dawn's meager operations and quickly organized them into a recruiting force that spread all throughout Vale, attracting more and more new members. Some say the New Dawn have tapped into latent racism within Valean culture, drawing upon fear for the faunus that has recently been exacerbated by the activities of the White Fang. The New Dawn contend that they're tapping into economic frustration and rational fear for one's safety.
"The New Dawn's membership is reported to be nearing the highest it's been since its founding years, and member-engagement is bigger than ever before, with new fundraisers, meetings and even protests being planned.
"Fantoche denies allegations that he and his group are human supremacists, stating that they are a legitimate political party with a distinct vision for Vale's future. They've already developed a distinct set of economic, domestic and foreign policies, distinguishing themselves as more than an anti-faunus party. With elections coming up next year, the New Dawn are hopeful to potentially secure some seats, if not on the council, then in lesser bodies. Fantoche has stated that, 'People don't feel safe on the streets anymore. They don't feel safe when they walk to work, when they visit friends or family. People are looking over their shoulder, because you have the White Fang, and all their supporters. We are not racists. We simply recognize the threat that the White Fang poses, and we believe that strong measures must be taken against the faunus population to ensure that the White Fang doesn't grow any further.'
"Beyond policy relating to the faunus, the New Dawn have outlined plans to direct more funding to Vale's healthcare and education services, along with work programs, paid for by a new round of taxes on upper-class citizens. These populist policies have formed the center of the New Dawn's identification as 'a party for the people' and is resonating with middle and lower class groups that feel a disconnect with Vale's ruling elite.
"The New Dawn are also advocating a massive overhaul of Vale's military and police forces in order to combat 'radical faunus terrorism' and reinstitute law and order to what they view as an increasingly lax society. They also advocate a much more aggressive approach to pacifying lands with Grimm presence, in order to secure Vale proper and provide 'living space' for the population.
"What everyone is eyeing, however, is the New Dawn's plans to form their own paramilitary forces. Fantoche announced plans to organize volunteers, primarily veterans, in the organization in new 'Protection Squadrons' that would provide security for the party meetings and events. What is most concerning, however, is Fantoche's statement that these groups could also potentially intervene in any 'subversive activities' whenever they're observed, acting as vigilantes against the White Fang.
"For now, the New Dawn remains a fringe party, but their membership is still growing. They shout a message that has clearly gained traction, and they have a highly capable leader. Only time will tell how far the New Dawn will go—"
The Lone Wanderer turned down his pip-boy's radio as he saw Ruby come near.
The Beacon garden was left bereft of any sound besides the gentle whisper of the wind as it fell through the air, brushing against the leaves and petals and bark and stone. Soon, Ruby's footfalls joined in.
She slumped onto the marble bench beside him.
"You listen to the news a lot," she said.
"I think it's really interesting."
Ruby grimaced. "Ugh... news." She shook her head, as if the concept of regularly listening to something as droll as the daily news had physically struck her, creating the need for her to regain her senses.
When she was done, she looked back down at his wrist, eyes filled with curiosity. "And what even if this thing, by the way?" She pointed to the bulky device on his wrist. "I've never asked."
"This? Oh, this is just my pip-boy. It's... a special kind of scroll that people back in my hometown made, since we didn't really have access to normal scrolls."
They didn't really have access to anything back in Vault 101, but it was better to leave things about home as vague as possible. Thankfully, Ruby nodded her head in understanding.
"So, why do you still wear it? Didn't Beacon give you a new scroll?"
"Well, yeah..." His scroll was better in many ways to his pip-boy, and it probably would be for the best if he just discarded his old device. But... he'd had it for seven years now. He'd gotten it for a birthday present. It was a reminder of better times.
"It's got some sentimental value," he said truthfully. It felt nice to tell the truth about his past, a subject which often required him to lie, be vague or find an excuse to avoid talking about.
Ruby nodded her head again, once more accepting his explanation.
"So, how you doing?" she asked.
"Eh, I'm alright. Just having lunch." He always stopped by the cafeteria for just a second, avoiding the crowd and striking back out to the garden to finish his meal. Such was the case for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Thankfully, no one ever seemed to spend any time in the garden, at least not for too long. Oh well, their loss and his gain.
"You eat really healthy," Ruby said, examining the bowl of spinach he'd finished off, as well as the discarded protein shake.
"Yeah well, I haven't had the chance to eat properly for a year, since, y'know, the wasteland is pretty sparse in terms of food." He shrugged. "So I love finally getting the chance to have a proper diet, with all the right food groups and stuff."
Ruby looked at the neat pile of trash beside him on the bench, before giggling. "And what food group is strawberry ice cream in?" Sure enough, an empty little pink carton lay on the bench; it had a strawberry printed on the side of it, and it was now filled with nothing but a spoon.
He'd managed to get a halfway-decent job at the docks, hauling around heavy crates for a few hours. There were quite a few students from Beacon there, actually, using their superhuman skills to help do tasks fit for forklifts. He'd saved most of his income in a recently-made bank account, but of what he did spend, most of it went towards Beacon's vending machines, for that one particular treat.
"Hey... dairy's a part of any nutritious diet, alright? Besides, you can't judge me, Cookie Queen. You eat more sugar in a day than I can in a week."
Ruby stuck out her tongue. "I'm not judging you... much."
The Lone Wander grunted and playfully shoved her, sending her nearly toppling off the edge of the bench. She would've fallen over, too, if she'd been sitting on the direct edge, as far from him as she could. Over the last few weeks, though, she'd gotten to sit a bit closer.
"Hey! Don't push me around!" She took both hands and tried to shove him back, though he only moved and inch. Her retaliation was predictable, so he'd already braced himself. Then again, it didn't take much to gear against her pitiful strength. All her combat relied on momentum that was either redirected from the enemy or generated by Crescent Rose. Her figure was too lithe to hold a lot of strength.
"Okay, okay, let's just get going now, alright? I want to test it out now that it's done."
All of Ruby's frustration vanished in thin air. Heh, she was so quick to forget about things when weapons were mentioned. "Yes!" She said while excitedly clapping her hands. "Finally! It's been... what? Almost two weeks? Let's try it out! I'll get everything ready, meet you there!"
With a final smile, she sped away, becoming nothing more than a crimson blur that left rose petals in its wake. It was a sight he'd gotten used to, a sight he wasn't going to get tired of any time soon.
Ruby rubbed her hands together excitedly as the Lone Wanderer cracked his knuckles.
They'd reserved a sparring room for themselves. It was just large enough to accommodate two opponents at any time, similar in size to the ring that Miss Goodwitch used in class, though bereft of all the additional seating, with only a single bench on the side to accommodate a few spectators. He and Ruby were alone, however, as he pulled the Mysterious Magnum from its holster.
"Here you go," Ruby said, handing him six dust bullets she'd counted out from a box. They'd ordered a new bandolier to hold his bullets, but until then, an ammo box would do. Ruby had decided to go the extra mile and craft the bullets in the armory, just to show him how it was done. He'd been quick to pick everything up, especially since he'd had to work with similar machinery before. Back when he'd been enslaved in the Pitt, whenever he wasn't outrunning trogs for steel, he'd be working the ammo presses. Good times... not really.
He loaded the magnum while Ruby pulled out a few targets. He'd expected them initially to be human-shaped, like all the ones back home, but each were made out to look like a different Grimm. He supposed that made sense, since this school prioritized the fight again Grimm, rather than people.
Ruby set up two different targets, one a beowolf and one an ursa. They each had defined regions assigned a certain amount of points, ranging from one for the edges to five for critical zones like the head and heart.
Ruby gave him a thumb's up and backed away, getting behind him.
He finished putting the last bullet in, then snapped the loader back into place. He looked down at the two targets, each arrayed on the opposite end of the ring from him. He cocked the magnum and took one step back, settling into his usual stance, both hands on the gun, both eyes looking down-range.
Breathe deep. Hold. Release.
He observed both targets, delineating between the sections within them.
Breathe deep. Hold. Release.
Time slowed as he pressed his finger ever closer against the trigger.
Breathe deep. Hole. Release.
It happened in a flash. All six shots lets loose against the two targets in as many seconds. Both beowolf and ursa shortly found themselves with two holes in their heart and one in their head.
"Haha! It works perfectly!" Ruby chirped. He turned to see her incredibly wide smile, mostly composed of pride from her excellent work bringing his gun up to snuff, but also something else, too. She was impressed. "Man, you're a really good shot, too!"
"Well, you can thank V.A.T.S. for that."
Ruby's smile disappeared, face morphing into a picture of confusion as she tilted her head. "Eh? What's that that?"
Oh son of a... come on, you really got to stop slipping around her.
He'd promised himself after the whole Hubris and Grognak fiasco to get more tight-lipped about what he talked about, but that promise had proven null. So far, he'd already had to carefully give her doctored, half-true explanations about a ton of things. For example, he'd accidentally mentioned how he was glad there wasn't any radiation here, and when she'd questioned him, the best he could say was that it was industrial run-off which had poisoned his community. True enough, but still. Someone not as trusting as she would eventually poke holes in his stories. So far, however, she'd taken all of his explanations at face-value.
After all, why would he ever lie to her?
He chewed his cheek at the thought of that. He didn't like lying to her. In fact... this was one occasion where he might actually be able to tell her the truth. Yeah... that's nice. Ruby was the only person in Beacon who he really wanted to tell the truth to, for some reason.
But come on, you hate her, don't you?
Well... I don't hate her...
Then what is it?
Uhh... I dunno, why do you have to ask? It's been weeks, and I know I don't hate her. I... tolerate her. Totally, I tolerate her presence.
Tolerate?
Absolutely.
Hmmmm... okay...
Yeah, she's not half bad.
She really isn't.
But I'm not really friends with her or anything.
Of course not.
Of course.
"Let's have a seat and look over the magnum, and I'll explain it to you while we do, 'kay?"
Ruby nodded and followed him over to the bench.
He released the latch on the magnum. "So back in my hometown, everyone got assigned to their future jobs when they were ten, using this big test called the GOAT."
"Really? Sounds weird."
"It was super weird, and the test was pretty stupid, even the teachers who gave it out said so. But the Overseer demanded it, and whatever the Overseer wanted, was done... glad to get out of that place." He ejected the spent cartridge from the magnum, and Ruby leaned over to inspect it with him. "Well, I got selected to be a guard. That meant I'd pretty much be a cop for my town. So, then I started to get all the training for the job." Ruby pushed him aside for a second, leaning in to inspect something closer, before nodding and backing away, letting him continue. "To train all the guards, they use something called V.A.T.S. The Vault-Tec Assisted Targeting System. It was a special program that simulated real-time combat and stuff, so we'd be able to work on our skills. The most important things that it taught me were techniques to use in order to keep my cool under fire and have steady aim."
He leaned back and straightened his posture. He breathed deep. He held it in. He let it out.
"That. Whenever I do that, I'm going back to all my training from V.A.T.S. It really helped get me in shape, work on my aim and get my hand-eye coordination up. I took all those skills and made them better once I set out on my own."
"Heh, neat," Ruby said. She leaned back and straightened up, just as he had. She breathed in deep, puffing her cheeks out like a chipmunk as she did so. Then she held it in... for a bit too long, since she let it all out in a single, desperate gasp.
It took her a few seconds to regain her normal breath, while he only shook his head. The tips of the Lone Wanderer's mouth crept ever-so-slightly upwards.
"THERE!" Ruby shouted.
His eyes flew wide upon as she pounced at him, shoving her fingers in his face.
"There! Right there! I saw it! Don't think I didn't see it!" She pointed at his mouth. "I saw you smile! You totally just smiled!"
He batted her hands away—gently. He scooted away from her on the bench. "Hey, what the heck are you doing!?"
"You smiled! You never smile, but I think I just saw it!" She moved even closer to him, again poking at his face. "You did!"
The Lone Wanderer backed away even more, before falling off of the bench altogether. He crashed back to the ground, hearing Ruby laugh and laugh all the while. He let his eyes drift closed, pointedly suppressing the urge to let his lips curl upwards, since that would mean she'd won.
She continued to giggle, and he just barely resisted the desire to join her.
"Ruby Rose!"
Oh god damn it. He cracked his eyes open to see the mean, hot one charge into the room. Of course, he instantly recognized Weiss, his best friend's partner, but that didn't mean he knew her as being anything other than mean and hot. Granted, Ruby had vouched for her quality as a person, and he trusted her judgement.
He sat up on the floor. Good person or not, Weiss still hated him, generally treating him like nothing or worse than nothing, and he still didn't like her all that much either. Well, he liked looking at her, but he wasn't much of a fan of the personality behind the body. Heh, didn't mean he couldn't have some fun. If their first meeting back in the lockers had been any indication, then he knew the buttons to push.
"Hey Ruby, who is this girl?" he asked.
Weiss ground her teeth.
"Huh? This is my partner."
"She is? Didn't recognize her. I guess she's just not very remarkable..."
"Stop patronizing me, you fool!" Weiss shouted," Of course you must recognize me, I'm the girl you leer at whenever you think I'm not looking!"
That made his mouth shut with an audible click. Whoops. Ruby squeaked, and although she was out of view, he was pretty sure her face had gotten a little red. Great.
Weiss huffed and spun on her heel, turning towards Ruby, who eeped at the sight of her angry face. With a deep breath, Weiss calmed herself, before addressing her partner. "Ruby, I thought you said we were going to spar today?"
"Wha? Oh darn, I did!" Ruby's face fell into panic as she jumped up from the bench. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! We finished work on the Mysterious Magnum this morning, and I just got so excited to test it out that I forgot! I'm sorry!"
Weiss imperiously poised her hands on her hips, but after a few second, even she had to give into the puppy-dog eyes. "Oh alright... I suppose a bit of excitement can be forgiven... once!" She tutted. "Just once—hey!"
She squirmed as Ruby suddenly leapt at her and threw her arms around her, dragging the girl into a hug.
"Thanks Weiss, you're the best!"
"Get off me, you dolt!"
"You don't mean that!"
"I do!"
"No you don't!"
"Yes I do!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"AARGH!"
Weiss managed to pry herself free and stumble away from Ruby, who always managed to tap into some inhuman strength whenever it came to giving hugs. She shook her head and straightened out her skirt, before once more rearing on the Lone Wanderer.
Uh-oh.
"And you, shouldn't you be spending some time with your own team?"
His eyes narrowed.
"Oh my, did I strike a nerve?" She grinned cockily. "Hmph. Well, your drama is your own, I suppose, though it's obvious to everyone in Beacon."
"What's obvious?" Ruby asked.
Weiss gave her partner a sidelong look before rolling her eyes and glaring back at the Wanderer. "Well, obvious to almost everyone." She shrugged. "Anyhow, could I borrow my partner for a bit? We're trying to work on our teamwork."
The Lone Wanderer bit down a retort, if only for Ruby's sake. He may not like Weiss all that much, but Ruby was quick to protect her as one of her closest friends. He'd only upset her by pushing things further.
"Sure, we just finished testing out the Mysterious Magnum, anyway. It's all in working order, so I guess I can get going."
Weiss, seeing the olive branch for what it was, nodded curtly. Her eyes snapped down to the pistol he was holstering, however, and she couldn't help prodding at him once more. "What kind of name is 'Mysterious Magnum' anyhow? Seems awfully contrived, to me."
"Well, I got it from the Mysterious Stranger, so that's what I named it."
"Mysterious Stranger?"
"Yeah, this guy back from his homeland," Ruby answered, butting in on the conversation before the Wanderer could reply and possibly heat things up further. "He was this weird vigilante who went from place to place, fighting criminals as he went. But he got injured and had to retire, so he gave his gun to Jaune when he did."
Weiss raised one eyebrow at Ruby, then slowly turned her suspicious look back at the Wanderer. "Hmph, I suppose I can pretend to believe that... still a contrived name, however."
"No more contrived than 'Mirt-Nastier' or whatever yours is called."
Weiss scoffed. "It's called 'Myrtenaster 'and it is an elegant, sophisticated weapon! Far more exquisite than that barbaric chainsaw of yours!"
"Hey, Crocea Mors is an advanced piece of machinery, thank you very much. I'll have you know, it can tear through armor with ease; the wounds it inflicts are near impossible to sew up, and nothing short of immediate surgery will be able to help you out; get it anywhere close to a major artery, and my opponent'll bleed out quick; the psychological damage that it can do is huge. All in all, it's a pretty great weapon."
Weiss's seemed about to throw out a reply, before she froze. Her combative expression melted and turned into something more stoic, something that didn't give away what she was thinking. Well, except for her eyes. They were filled with distrust.
"What exactly could you do with that sword?"
The Lone Wanderer rested his hand on the ripper's hilt. "I could cut someone in half."
Weiss's eyes narrowed.
"Oooooookay," Ruby said, "I think it's time that... uh, Weiss and I get to sparring. We can meet up again later like we talked about, right Jaune?"
The Lone Wanderer nodded and walked past the girls, towards the door. In his peripheral vision, he saw Wiess turn her head to continue glaring at him, and his skin crawled under her look. Before he reached the door, he turned around and decided to fight back at her gaze with some words. "See something you like, Ice Queen? Or is there some other reason you're staring at me?"
She scowled and huffed. "Just ensuring that you don't sneak anymore looks at my rear!"
"Yeah, yeah, don't get all worked up." He opened the door and stepped through, though he turned around and added, "But don't take my looking too personally, Snow Angel. You're too flat for my tastes, anyhow."
Weiss scrunched her brow in confusion for a moment, before her eyes widened and she looked down at her chest. Her face shot up a moment later, expression filled with murder.
The Lone Wanderer quickly shut and pressed his back against the door, chuckling to himself as the aforementioned Snow Angel started shouting about her physique and how he simply had no taste, being a mongrel raised in the middle of nowhere.
Well, she wasn't wrong about the 'nowhere' part. Ah well, that was one bridge that had been burned a long time ago, anyway. Alright, priority one is getting to another vending machine and picking up some more ice cream...
The tip of Myrtenaster pierced through the door, no more than an inch away from his head.
Nope, priority one is getting as far away as possible.
He ducked under the rapier and sped down the hallway.
He yawned and threw his backpack on the floor. It hit with a heavy thump that seeped out into the caverns behind him, where it echoed off of the dark, wet walls. It had surely been a long day. He'd thrashed someone in Miss Goodwitch's class and cut down a good-sized beowolf in Port's.
Of course, Ruby was cheering him on through both occasions. That made it a nice day.
Still, it had also been tiring, and he was about ready to get to sleep, all the good it'd do him. He'd been ready to go to sleep several times throughout the day, when his exhaustion became more apparent than usual. It happened at seemingly random moments, jumping on him out of nowhere and demanding he close his eyes.
He'd nodded off during Oobleck's lesson... again. He'd nearly fallen asleep when he first visited the garden that morning. He dozed slightly while studying in the library. He'd also even felt the urge to take a nap while idling in the gym locker room.
He shivered at the thought of resting his face on the locker room benches while slept. He'd probably get a sickness worse than anything the wasteland could offer.
Ah well, he was finally back in his little hovel, where he could relax and go to sleep for... probably four hours. Maybe a little more, if he was lucky, thought he doubted that. He always woke up in the middle of the night, and he'd never manage to get back to sleep, with the desired exhaustion only hitting him later in the day.
It was infuriating, honestly. He didn't even know exactly what woke him up. Was it that nightmares? Maybe, maybe not. Who knew, certainly not him. Perhaps there was just some sort of incumbent restlessness that infected him in his sleep.
He collapsed down onto his sleeping mat with a tired sigh. He closed his eyes, instantly encompassed by the cave's absolute darkness. It was cold, and he was alone. He idly wished for... something. Maybe someone. Maye a bunch of people. Something...
He got nothing, nothing besides sleep.
The darkness slowly faded away, taken over by a feint light which steadily grew in intensity.
The sunlight was mangled by the thick morning smog and collapsed half-dead to the Earth, such that only a sickly yellow haze fell across the wasteland that day. Normally, this would've set the Wanderer even more on edge than usual, but he was beside the Citadel, and the Brotherhood's watchmen would cut down any threat that came near, always looking through their powerful visors.
The knowledge that they were undoubtedly looking at him, as well, made his skin crawl. Still, it was a disgusting sensation that he would endure, for he had a task of the upmost importance.
He walked through rows and rows of small signs, none higher than his knee. On each was scrawled a name and a phrase. Well, there were names for those who could be recalled, those who weren't so disfigured that their body could still be recognized, those that knew people who could recognize them in the first place.
The Brotherhood graveyard, a plot of land just outside of the Citadel, reserved for the bodies of those members who've passed on. It was a solemn place, possessing an air of dignity and power that demanded one's respect. He gave it all the respect it deserved, reverently plodding around each grave, careful not to disturb a single person's rest.
He cut a direct path to his destination. He knew it by heart, having visited many times. Whenever he passed by the Citadel, a melancholy urge fell upon him, commanded him to come by and visit one grave in particular.
He marched up to it. It was one of the shinier ones. Each gravestone was actually a plate of metal, on which was inscribed the necessary words. Some had names, others simply read A Fallen Brother. This one had a name, however.
The Lone Wanderer knelt before the grave.
Maxwell Noble.
His eyes scanned the letters, solemn and silent. The stared back at him, accusingly. They knew. They knew things that most others in the Citadel did not know, and with that knowledge, those sad letters accused him. They berated him and his lies, his selfishness.
He looked lower, at the words stamped below the name.
A young man, taken too soon. He succumbed to the wasteland. For his deeds, he will be remembered as a true hero.
The Lone Wanderer sat down in front of the gravestone and stared. Above him. The sun passed by, slowly crawling up and up, further above the horizon, before hitting its apex and slowly falling back down the other way. Orange bled into the sky as the sun ran closer and closer to the East.
Through it all, the Lone Wanderer sat and stared.
"Hey mister?"
His head snapped quickly to the side. He'd become so enraptured by those words, by the power they contained, by the memories they summoned, that he hadn't even noticed the boy who walked up beside him.
Said boy started back at the Wanderer's quick movement, but when it became apparent that he meant no harm, he stood his ground, even shuffled a little closer. "Sorry to bother you, but... did you know him?"
"What?" The Wanderer's voice croaked out of the filtration helmet, raspy and harsh. He recognized the boy, of course. It was Arthur Maxson, the last of a long line of Maxsons who'd founded and guided the Brotherhood of Steel through the centuries. It'd been a long time since they spoke.
"Did you know him?" Arthur asked again, pointing at the gravestone. "Max? Did you know Max?"
The Lone Wanderer stared at the boy, who shuffled under his dead gaze, seeing only the dull glass of his filtration helmet. He slowly turned his head to look back at gravestone, then back at the boy.
"No..." He said, slowly. He shook his head. "No, no I didn't know him."
Arthur's face sagged. "Oh, sorry then. I just saw you sitting out here from the Citadel, and I recognized where you were and... well, sorry." He nervously scratched at the back of his head. "It's just that, Max and I were friends, so I figured I'd talk and see if you knew any more about him."
The Lone Wanderer shook his head and looked away, before a thought struck him and he turned back. "Could you tell me a bit about him?"
"Huh?"
"You knew Max."
Arthur nodded.
"So, can you tell me a bit about him?"
"Oh, uh sure. Well... there's a lot to say. He was awesome, really cool. He was kinda shy and awkward, but he was really nice and funny, too. People liked him, cause he could always smile or crack some stupid joke. Most of his jokes weren't very good... but I think that's what made them funny a lot of the time.
"Yeah, everyone was really sad when they figured out he died. The Enclave killed him, up at Adams Air Force Base, but not before he messed them up good.
"He was just... nice. Most people here are pretty grouchy. We're in a rough spot, and they know it, and they let that fact get to them. Not Max, though. He was always, I dunno, bright. He smiled a lot, and he was always really nice.
Arthur sighed. "I miss him... everyone does..."
"Arthur!" It was one of the knights, who was charging around the border of the graveyard. "Arhur, get away from that man!"
"What? But—"
"Get back into the Citadel! Now!" The knight snapped his gaze at the Wanderer and pointed. "And as for you! You should get out of here, get away from that grave! That boy was too nice to go and have scum like you messing with his remains!"
The Wanderer slowly stood up, looking back and forth between Arthur and the knight. Well, it seemed that this day of remembrance had now come to an end. He looked back down at the grave. It was a sad thing, truly—
A hand shot out of the soil, wrapped its fingers around his ankle and tore him down.
He screamed and clawed at the ground, trying to find some purchase that would let him delay his doom, but it was to no avail. He was dragged further and further down, before the dirt and detritus of the surface smother his vision completely, leaving him trapped in the dark, all power ebbing out of his muscles until he was rendered completely immobile and helpless.
"My, my, my... what a sad reunion." That voice, that awful, terrible, kind-sounding voice.
Bishop chuckled in the darkness.
"Here, do you want to see how it happened? Do you want to see the moment that he died?" Bishop's voice was close, just outside of his ear, and the Wanderer's breath quickened.
Please no, please. His eyes stung, and he silently sobbed as the darkness before him melted away, revealing a scene of war. There was scattered debris everywhere, left behind by the Brotherhood's artillery fire. Destroyed vertibirds littered the ground, as more departed in the distance, carrying the retreating Enclave away. Knights and Regulators and Outcasts together swarmed into the Air Force Base, braving heavy fire and dolling out plenty of fire of their own. The crackling of bullets and lasers and plasma mixed with the hideous roars of fire and explosions. Smoke rose high in the air, from craters and bombed out building and the charred remains of the mobile base that had been so recently annihilated by an orbital strike. Destruction was rampant, and the anti-Enclave coalition had won the day, a glorious victory.
It would go down as one of the single worst days in the Wanderer's life.
He saw him, Bishop Beauvais. He snaked his way back from a Knight's swing, feigning imbalance so that the poor man would overextend, letting him dart in and stab through a crook in his armor. He shoved the immense power armor aside, throwing it off and charging back into the fray. They were all alone, fighting against Bishop and his elites.
He and his group had stopped with Sarah and the Pride to watch the mobile base be destroyed, when they'd been ambushed. It'd descended into a savage brawl, and Bishop had cut his way across it all. With a triumphant laugh, Bishop charged in, and the Lone Wanderer saw him thrust Rubrem Mors straight at Max...
The Lone Wanderer awoke, trembling. A sick, despicable sensation sat in his chest, revolting and defiling and wrong in every way imaginable.
He shakily sat up on his sleeping mat, with a heavy weight just behind his eyes and even heavier demand that he not close them. He couldn't close them. How could he? After that?
He let his head fall into his hands, which quickly became slick from a mix of both sweat and tears. That... that had been one memory he'd thought he'd managed to outrun. He hadn't relived that so vividly in... in so long. He always tried his best to not think about it, in the hopes that one day he'd forget outright. Obviously, that wasn't the case. It'd never be the case.
God, how would he ever be able to sleep again...
"Ugh, I can't wait to finally sleep... y'know Weiss, you're a real slaver driver," Ruby said.
"Well, you'll thank me once we all get A's on Oobleck's first test," the heiress replied, closing her book and getting up from her desk.
Blake and Yang also put their supplies away, and the whole the team went to the bathroom to finish off the necessary nightly preparations, before they started getting changed into their pajamas. It had been a tiring day, but a good one! Ruby had finally managed to see the fruits of her labor in the Mysterious Magnum's successful performance, not to mention spending time with Jaune was generally a pretty nice thing. Her sparring had gone well with Weiss, and she'd even managed to get her prickly partner to calm down and loosen up after Jaune's... kinda-not-nice words. Weiss had even laughed and joked around with her after they finished sparring and before they got to studying.
So yeah, it was a good day, and that meant there would be some good dreams in store for her, too! Ugh, she just hoped that all the studying she'd done wouldn't leak into her dreams... studying...
Oh wait!
"Hey guys, I'm gonna meet Jaune in the library tomorrow to go over some notes real quick, for like an hour maybe." Blake politely nodded before hopping up into her bunk. Yang shrugged and curtly smiled. Thankfully, her sister hadn't raised and further objection to her friendship with Jaune, probably since he'd never done anything bad to her and had even been a little nicer to people recently. Well, he'd stopped giving death-stares to everyone who came anywhere close, but that was still an improvement.
Weiss replied predictably. "You can do what you wish with that rapscallion."
"Heh, Weiss is just pissed 'cause he called her out," Yang teased.
"Ugh! I am not! His insult didn't effect me in the slightest, for I'm not self-conscious at all about my size... not that you'd ever have to deal with that."
Yang laughed and fell back into her bed. "Hey, I got the looks, what can I say? Besides, you should feel flattered, since he's definitely lying; judging by how he checks you out sometimes, he's totally into you."
"He does express interest," Blake said, pulling out her book and preparing to ride out the nightly banter with her most recent story.
"I would never fraternize with the likes of him," Weiss said, scrunching up her mouth as if she'd just tasted something sour. "The very thought is revolting... besides, that's not what's thrown me off."
"Huh? Then what is it?" Ruby asked as she pulled on the last of her night clothes.
Weiss sighed and sat down on the side of her bed, a fresh scowl gracing her face. "It was something else he said during our meeting in the training room... the way he talked about that garish weapon of his."
"Crocea Mors?" Ruby asked, sitting beside her partner on her bed.
Weiss nodded. "Ruby, how would you describe Crescent Rose to me? Wait, how would you describe what you can do with it? Give me just one example."
Some of the light faded from Ruby's eyes as her long-winded rant about her weapon's incredible abilities and characteristics was cut short. She swallowed down the disappointment and tapped one finger against her chin, humming.
"Well, I could fire it off and slice the heads off of three charging beowolves in one good swing!"
Weiss nodded. "And how about you yang? One good show of Ember Celica's force."
"Heh, I can smash an ursa's skull in with one punch," Yang said.
"And how about you, Blake? What can Gambol Shroud do?"
Blake set her book down and drummed her fingers against the pages for a few seconds. "Well, I can outmaneuver just about anything with the ribbon, and can use it to spring in for a killing blow, like what I did to that ursa back in initiation, remember Yang?"
"Uh-huh, I remember. That was the first time we ever met... ahh, the memories. It was ages ago..."
"It was about three weeks ago..."
"Eh, same difference."
"Well, would you like to know how Jaune described Crocea Mors?" Weiss asked, vutting in before the conversation could be derailed.
The three other girls in the room looked at her expectantly.
"If I recall correctly, he said it could shred through armor, that it could leave wounds only surgery could heal, that his opponents would bleed out, that it dealt out plenty of psychological damage. Do you see the difference between his description and yours?"
"Uhhh... yes?" Ruby tentatively said.
Weiss spared her a single glance out of the corner of her eye.
"Okay... no."
"Listen Weiss, will you get to the point already?" Yang said. She flourished her hand back and dramatically laid it back against her forehead. "We're all dying to know what your message is... especially since some of us want to get to sleep..."
"Hmph, when I further questioned him, when I asked for an example just like you did, what did he say? Did he mention beowolves like Ruby? Did he talk about ursa, like you or Blake? No." Weiss crossed her arms over her chest. "He said he could cut a person in half."
The only sound in the room came from the gently clicking grasshoppers just outside the window.
"Armor..." Blake whispered.
"Grimm don't wear armor," Weiss replied.
"Surgery..." Ruby said.
"Grimm don't have any surgeons."
"Psychology..." Yang said.
"Since when have Grimm been anything but mindless?"
Weiss rose from her bed and stalked towards the window. She stared out angrily at the broken moon.
"People. That's what's bothering me. He explicitly talked about his weapon in terms of fighting people, not Grimm, and that's piqued my suspicion."
No one noticed Blake huddled up closer to herself on her bunk.
"And when he said he could cut someone in half... it was with such nonchalance that I can't help but think he might really be able to do it. He gives me a bad feeling.
Ruby shook her head. Not Jaune. He was her friend, after all. Sure, he was rough around the edges, but could he really be a killer? Could he really hurt people like that? Wounds? Surgery? Psychological torture?
No way.
Yes way. Yes way, indeed.
So not much has happened this time around, maybe blame that on me having a busy week. I didn't get too much time to plan and execute this chapter, but I hope it turned out alright nonetheless. It may be hard for me to put one out next week since I have finals right now, but I'll do my best.
However, a lot of stuff happened in this chapter that I also believe is pretty important; it just so happens that that stuff is pretty much all exposition, sorry. I've had many of these scenes in mind for a while, and I'm glad to finally write them. But I'm really excited to finally put something into next chapter that I've been waiting to do for a while.
Also, there is indeed a time skip between this chapter and the last, of about 2-weeks, just in case you couldn't tell that out from the reading.