Now, I feel like I ought to address something here before I move onwards. The New Dawn is NOT supposed to be an allegory for any contemporary political movement. I admit that some of the diction used last chapter, primarily the 'radical faunus terrorism' bit, was inspired by the problems of the last couple decades, and that was my attempt at making a problem in a fictional world more understandable and relatable to the audience; there will be few or no references to modern issues in the future, as I never planned there to be in the first place.
The New Dawn is entirely based off of the Nazi party. They're a political party that initially appealed to veterans of a 'Great War'. They want to get 'Living Space' which is a direct translation of Lebensraum, the Nazi belief in getting territory to settle with Germans. They want to form 'protection squadrons' which is a direct translation of schutzstaffel, the SS. They are an allegory for the Nazi's, nothing else.
The New Dawn will serve a purpose in this fic, but not at all as a vehicle for my personal political views. I've just always been intrigued by the situation of the faunus in the show, which isn't portrayed very much, so I decided to explore it more here. I implore all readers to refrain from seeking out any kind of contemporary political message, as there is none. The New Dawn will be villains (if you hadn't already guessed), nothing else. I don't think it's a political move to make the Nazi's the bad guys and to say that racism is bad, since those are latent facts.
I write this story because it's a fun hobby, and I just want everyone to enjoy the fic and have a good time. So without further ado, let's get to it.
It had become a difficult task to keep his eyes open. He hadn't slept the night before, or much the night before that, but there was something else as well, something that was dragging him down. It was, undoubtedly, Professor Port's droll dribble. The last few classes had actually been pretty interesting, with bombastic explanations of Grimm's behavioral patterns, common combat methods and plenty of live demonstrations where he invited students to come up on the stage and test out their techniques. However, he was now boasting about how he wrestled a King Taijitsu with one hand literally tied behind his back, and after an hour of such nonsense, the Lone Wanderer was tempted to draw Crocea mors and drive it into his skull.
He settled for a groan a desperate wish that time moved faster.
He sat in the back of the class, per usual. He wasn't in the corner, since from there, he wouldn't have a good view of Ruby, who occasionally looked back at him and rolled her eyes at something particularly awful by Port, or would flash him some of her doodles. She was determined and studious, but even Weiss had stopped chastising her for losing focus during Port's stories.
He glanced over at her, but judging by the way her head was resting on her notebook and her shoulders were rising in a rhythmic manner, she was well asleep. Lucky.
He wished he could sleep like that, without a care in the world. Ever since his most recent brush with Bishop and the reminder of Max's fate, he'd actively avoided closing his eyes.
It wasn't like he could control his dreams. They were times when everything was taken away from him, when he was forced to relive what he'd hoped he could forget.
The only solution was not to sleep at all.
So that's what he'd done. After waking up, he hadn't gone back to sleep, just wasting away in his cave and traipsing about the Emerald forest until school began. From there, he'd gone about his day and hadn't even gone back to the cave. He'd gone to work at the docks for a few hours, volunteering for more time afterward, well into the night. Then he'd gotten back and studied until school started all over again.
Then here he was. The third class of the day, after Oobleck's history and Peach's psychology seminar. Now he'd been sentenced to withering through another one of Port's narcissistic ravings, and it was harder than ever to stay awake.
There was the danger inherent in falling asleep in a room full of people, but that wasn't what really gnawed at him. He'd become increasingly comfortable with the people here at Beacon. Most of them, with the glaring exception of team CRDL and their contemporaries, where good people. No, he didn't want to sleep because sleeping would lead back to the nightmares, and he was sick of it.
For a long, long time, he'd been sick and tired of putting up with the specters that haunted him as he slept, the taunts from Bishop, the faces of the dead. He knew that it wasn't a permanent solution, that he'd have to go back to sleep eventually and once more face the anti-rest that it always provided, but at least he'd have this break. Just a break, for just a few days. That was all he wanted.
Just for a little while, he wanted some peace.
He sighed and lightly slapped his cheeks to keep himself awake. Once more, he enviously looked over at Ruby and... dear god, Weiss!? Well, it looked like even the mightiest had finally fallen to Professor Port's rambling. Really, all they needed to do to defeat the Grimm was record a few hours of him talking, then play it on repeat out in the wilds. The monsters would all leap off cliffs after a few days of that ceaseless nonsense.
Ugh, just let the mind wander to avoid this terrible fate that you've been condemned to. Why have I been forsaken? Why must the man with the mustache slowly rip out my soul? This is like that old Greek story where the guy gets his liver eaten out by a vulture or something every day.
God, I'm dramatic when I'm tired.
He let his head fall into his hands. This was... awful. That really was the only way to explain it. Perhaps he'd get some respite from the other students in the room. Who knew, perhaps they could be entertaining in their own way? He'd always loved people watching.
He moved his fingers apart to form a crack through which he could spy on his classmates. People watching had been a favored past-time ever since he'd left the vault, and Remnant provided even more interest. There was the girl with the bunny ears, for starters. That was something he didn't think he'd ever see. The faunus here were incredible, with horns and tails and ears of all sorts. It was like something from a fairy tale. He watched the girl (Velvet, if he recalled correctly) from the back of the class, idly observing how her ears twitched and swayed.
But even that got old, especially since he'd done it several times before, so his eyes swept across the room, dressing down every person from row to row. Eventually, one caught his eye. Do something enough times, and get noticed doing it enough times, then someone will start to recognize the pattern. The Lone Wanderer had recognized a pattern.
He had no idea who the guy was. He didn't really care either. Or, he hadn't cared. That had recently started to change. He was a weedy-looking kid who'd never done well in sparring class and had never raised his hand to answer a question. He'd cloistered himself with his team and appeared to be antisocial to a degree that was second only to the Wanderer himself. So, what was he doing?
Well, the Wanderer was a fairly perceptive kind of person, and he'd seen how the guy watches. He watched, through every class. He watched one thing, one person. The Lone Wanderer looked at him now, with his head resting on the fist of one hand, elbow propped on the table; it was an arrangement that permitted him to look at the exact same spot for the whole class, for hours, if need be.
Looking right at Pyrrha Nikos.
He was probably a big fan, or at least he'd started out that way. There was something in the way he held himself, the way he looked, the way he stared that left the Wanderer thinking that he had other things in mind than getting her autograph. The Wanderer wasn't foreign to the practice of looking at pretty girls. Hell, no guy was, especially not in a place like Beacon where literally every female was downright beautiful. But looks were always transient, at least in his case with Weiss.
A thought sprung into his mind, an image of this guy looking at Ruby the way he was looking at Pyrrha.
The Lone Wanderer was displeased.
He shook his head. Whatever, just let the guy go about his business. If he ever had the guts to ask Pyrrha out, then good for him. Maybe she'd say yes, and maybe they'd be happy together. That would be nice.
A memory accosted him, a memory of her face, downtrodden and hurt and upset. Back on the day of initiation, when he'd so brutally repulsed her.
The Wanderer closed his eyes and groaned as he massaged his temples with his hands. God damn this place, really. He just needed to get away. Yeah, he'd look over Crocea Mors with Ruby, suggest his special project to her. And when that was done, and when he'd gotten more practice with fighting, then he'd be able to leave. He'd gone to Miss Goodwitch for help on his technique, and with her advice, he was already starting to utilize his aura better. He was steadily recrafting his fighting style to accommodate his newfound strength and resilience, steadily managing his power better. Qrow had been right to send him here, since he only would've been able to achieve this alone through much more time and effort, time and effort gained through field experience, during which he would be perpetually disadvantaged and in potentially mortal danger. This was in stark contrast to his situation entering the wasteland, where he'd been extensively trained through VATS.
He just needed to get away. Then he'd never have to deal with this school again.
He'd never have to see Ruby again.
For some reason, he felt a hollowness suddenly develop in his stomach.
Thankfully, however, the bell chose that exact time to ring, successfully diverting his attention away from the newfound feeling and instead to a delight sense of, well, delight. It was done! The torture was over! Now he was free from class for the rest of the day. That meant he'd go to the library and go over his notes until Ruby came by, where they'd once more chat and look over their collected notes together. Ooobleck's first big test was in just a few days, after all.
He stretched, cracked his neck and sighed as he rose from his seat. Port said something about something, and nobody listened because nobody cared for that something. In moments like this, people just wanted to reach the hallway.
Ruby and her team sped out, needing to get to their next lesson. The rest of JNPR cleared out more slowly, since they shared the same schedule as him and had no more classes. Where they were headed to, he had no idea.
And he didn't possess the slightest bit of curiosity about where they went, and neither did he, in any slight capacity, wonder if maybe he could've gone with them.
Exhaustion always brings to light, either through sleep or idle thought, one's dreams. So it was, that his mind wandered.
It had been nice to have a team. He looked at them pass, and thoughts of Fawkes and John and Jane pressed into his mind, Dogmeat, too. His dog had been the first to join his little group, found in an abandoned junkyard, where they'd bonded over a fight against a molerat horde.
Dogmeat... he'd been a good boy. From the very beginning, he'd been nice and loyal and ferocious to anyone that would dare harm his master. Yeah... a good boy, indeed.
Then had come John and Jane. The two of them had been in a bind against a group of raiders when he'd come by and bailed them out with a surprise attack that leveled their mutual foes. Well, that was the way he told it. They liked to say that they'd had the situation perfectly under control and didn't need his help, even though they still appreciated it.
He noiselessly chuckled as he watched the last students file out of the classroom. The twins had always been like that... such an attitude for them. Maybe Nora or Ren or Pyrrha had some similar such attitude... or maybe there was something else about them all that made them fun and interesting in their own unique ways... there probably was...
He dug his knuckles into his temples to drive out the thoughts. He wouldn't have a team. Not another. Not again.
Never again.
When the last of his classmates left the room, he moved to go as well. He always wanted to be the last to leave, then there'd be no one at his back, not to mention more room in the hallway for him to navigate, allowing him to be as far away from others as he needed to be.
However, he was stopped just before he left the door, stopped by a sound behind him that indicated he'd missed someone. With a glance over his shoulder, he saw one last student still in class, none other than the one he'd observed before, the one who'd been looking at Pyrrha.
He'd... wait, he was hovering at Pyrrha seat. The Lone Wanderer narrowed his eyes. The young huntsman was... doing something at her desk. He was just hovering there, scanning it with a muted desperation, looking for something, perhaps anything.
He blinked and slowly looked away. It was none of his business what that guy did, if he was really doing anything at all. Just so long as he wasn't going to cause any trouble...
What if he does something bad to my team?
A violent, vicious desire to smash the kid's skull in and splatter his brains across the floor assault the Wanderer's senses.
He shook his head. No, nothing like that... why was he even getting upset? Probably just tired... tired and paranoid like usual... probably nothing... maybe I'm even hallucinating.
He shook his head once more and left the room, trying to escape the jarring sensation of protectiveness he suddenly felt.
The library was, predictably, a quiet and relaxing place. Usually, that was nice, and the Lone Wanderer appreciated that. But it wasn't the most conducive to staying awake. Neither were boring notes, either.
The Lone Wanderer yawned and flipped a page in his notebook. There was honestly not much that could be done about that. It wasn't like he could force himself to stay awake. Well, not beyond the measures he'd already taken.
He took yet another sip of coffee, from what was probably the fifth or sixth cup he'd had that day, and it was only... what, two in the afternoon? No, a quick check of the clock showed it was two-thirty, and that was still pretty early for the fifth cup of coffee. Then again, it was actually pretty late, if you took into account the fact that he hadn't gone to sleep the night prior, that he'd hardly had a sliver of sleep the night before that.
Well, this was his break from all the trouble that sleeping caused him, so he was going to make sure that it lasted as long it could, damn it!
He looked down at the pages in his notebook, at the scrawls which had desperately translated Oobleck's latest few lectures. It was incomplete, of course, and his meeting with Ruby was for more than just talking. Each of them needed to accrue as much as they possible could about just what, exactly, their manic teacher had talked about in class, since lord knows that not even Weiss was able to catch everything.
With a put-upon-sigh, he got back to reading.
This particular section was about Atlas. More specifically, it was about Atlas's government. It was surprisingly comparable to the Brotherhood of Steel, with how advanced and military-oriented both bodies were.
Still, as interesting as the material may be, it was hard to read through a blurry vision. He rubbed his eyes again and got back to studying, but found himself hardly capable of doing anything more than going over the same few lines over and over again at any moment.
On one particular line, his brain found itself sinking back into the past. He slowly mumbled it to himself as darkness faded into his vision and memory took control.
"The head of state of Atlas..."
"The head of state of Atlas..."
"The head of state..."
"Head of state..."
…
…
…
"-head of state of the United States of America," the great machine said.
The young man had seen many strange things during his short time spent in the wasteland, from horribly deformed monstrosities to cannibalistic psychos. However, it had never occurred to him that he may come across the President of the USA, and that the President would be a computer.
Said computer fell silent, waiting for his response, but even when it didn't speak, the massive structure that composed Eden's form emitted a constant hum, a latent whirring that filled every corner of the room, that muted every other sound which tried to compete. The room had several such constant sensations. For example, great coolers cast a sheen of frost on every surface and numbed his skin, sinking even deeper as well, into his muscles and down to his bone. Every movement was tinged with a chilly sluggishness. There was darkness, too, only challenged by tiny lights set in the computer's parts, as well as the massive screen which only gave only a dim, ominous portrayal of a wave that moved whenever President Eden spoke.
"Overwhelmed?" Eden asked. "No worry, I suppose that this must come as quite the surprise. Allow yourself a moment for it all to sink in."
"You... you're the one on the radio?"
"I am. I recorded all those lines quite a while ago, to be played on repeat for the radio and through eyebots distributed across the wastes. Now, I would love to talk to you about a great many things, but there's a reason for my bringing you here."
The young man shook his head, throwing aside the confusion and instead raising his plasma rifle at the computer screen. "You lead these people. They killed my father." He sneered. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't kill you."
"Well, you'd never be able to actually hit any core systems with that peashooter of yours, for one. I was built to survive a nuclear explosion, which I did. You could shoot a rocket launcher at me, and it would have no effect. A second reason would be that I'm the only reason Bishop's cretin, Arthur, isn't still trying to beat codes to the purifier out of you."
The young man bit the inside of his cheek. "I guess those are good reasons.."
He didn't lower the tip of his rifle. For one, the machine could just be lying to save itself, it may still be vulnerable to attack. Then again... why would it have brought him here if he was truly susceptible to his plasma rifle? And he owed this guy for getting him away from Arthur...
"Alright, I'm listening."
"Excellent," Eden said. "Now, you know who Bishop Beauvais is, I believe?"
The young man's lips peeled back into a hateful, angry sign of disgust.
"I'll take that as a yes. Well, he and his superior, Colonel Autumn, have worked as my surrogates for years. For purposes of moral, no one in the Enclave is aware of my true nature, no one aside from Autumn and Bishop. They worked as middle men between myself and the rest of the Enclave, but that's changed in the past few years.
"Over time they steadily disenfranchised me, stripping me of my abilities until we've reached this point, where I'm completely unable to exercise any of my own power over the Enclave. They've sent this organization down a dark path.
"I always envisioned the Enclave to make something for all the wasteland's people, to bring back the good of America to everyone, but those two just want to take power for themselves; should they gain control, then everyone in the wasteland would be at their mercy, and they are not merciful men.
"Autumn has control over several of the higher-ups in the Enclave, and he's remained popular among the ground troops. Bishop commands his elite group of special agents, some of the best fighters in the entire Enclave, and he thinks of Autumn as his own father.
"Now, I'm little more than and administrative device and a figurehead, but that need not be the case forever. I'm beloved by the common troops and citizens of the Enclave, who know me through my broadcasts. The only problem is, I can't take advantage of that so long as those two are still alive.
There was a pregnant pause, during which the young man could hear only the chatter of his own teeth and the light hum of the computer before him. Oh hell, that was a cue, wasn't it? Well, it wasn't hard to see where the machine was going.
"You want me to kill them?"
"I do. I can't reach out to anyone else in the organization, for fear of hidden loyalty to Autumn or Bishop. I'm sad to say that I no longer command much knowledge over my own personnel. However, I do know precisely where the colonel is at this moment, where he'll be for the next few days. I don't know where Bishop is, but if you can kill Autumn, then Bishop will surely go into either a sloppy rage or a catatonic depression. Either option will leave him vulnerable to a similar fate as the colonel.
"Why though? Why me?" the young man asked.
"You've proven yourself to be exceptionally talented in the ways of war. You're operate outside of the Enclave's operations, and you can potentially be my new surrogate should this be successful. Please, you have to do this. If you do, then I can take back control and end this silly war that Autumn started. We can work together for a better world.
The young man furrowed his brow, lost in thought.
"Listen, I've sent the guards on a witch-hunt throughout the rest of the facility, but Raven Rock isn't the largest place. They'll secure everywhere except for my office, then try and bust down the door to 'rescue' me. You must go, quickly. They can spot you meeting up outside of the facility with your friends, then you can escape."
"My friends?" Could it be? No, Arthur had said he killed them...
"Indeed, those two regulators, along with the kindly super mutant. I've managed to temporarily disable the defensive artillery around Raven Rock, letting them get close. You need to leave, leave and meet up with them. Then find Autumn, who's residing with a small group of confidantes at the Satcom arrays just to the southwest of here. But you have to hurry!
"Hurry!"
…
…
...
""Hurry up!"
"Come on, be quieter... this is a library..."
"Shut it Dove, just hurry up... and don't lose your grip!"
The Lone Wanderer blinked the sleep out of his eyes. Had... had he fallen asleep? No, not really, he'd just dozed off. It was hardly two-forty. Well, as far as dreams went, that wasn't actually the worst to have... thought it likely would've gone horribly downhill soon enough.
He, with a great amount of effort, pried his eyes open all the way and looked around to see what had woken him up. He saw another team, team CRDL, brush past him. They were carrying a large box, filled with who-knows-what. It looked they'd decided to quickly cut through the library, and what had woken him up wasn't the noise, so much as the smell.
Whatever they were carrying, it was rancid. The Lone Wanderer rankled his nose, and he wasn't alone in his disgust. Several other people in the library were also glaring at the boys, but everyone seemed content to let them shuffle out of the room.
They did, and the Lone Wanderer stretched and yawned. The smell would disappear soon enough, and he should be getting some company soon, too...
A gust of wind was what first alerted him to her arrival, followed by a few rose petals that gently fell upon his notes. He idly wondered what Beacon's janitors thought of her, since she littered just about everywhere she went. Where did the petals even come from? Was it magical? Were they derived from her own organic matter? Maybe that was why she ate so much sugar... did it all get turned into rose petals? He eyed one of them. What did it taste like? He should probably try it one time... maybe it would taste like candy...
He took one and popped it into his mouth, before quickly spitting it out. Nope, just tasted like plant. Then what was the point of eating so much sugar and making rose petals, if you couldn't make candy rose petals? Man, if you were able to do that, then you could probably make a fortune...
"Uhhh, Jaune?"
"Oh, that's right, Ruby's here."
"Yeah, I am."
He nodded. "You are." A few seconds later, it occurred to him that, maybe, just maybe, he was being a little weird. "Sorry, just tired," he said as he shook his head and again lightly slapped his face. He tried to take another sip from his coffee, before frowning and shooting the cup a nasty glare. It was empty. Great. He'd have to get some more after their study session.
"Jaune, how much sleep did you get last night?"
"None."
"How much sleep did you get the night before?"
"Like... half an hour."
"Jaune!" Ruby scowled at him and pouted. Heh, she looked cute when she was mad like that, since she was never really mad, and her face just wasn't built to convey anything other than smiles with any sort of effectiveness. He could never imagine her actually being angry. She just wasn't the type...
"Jaune? Are you even listening to me?"
Huh? She was talking? Well, apparently, she was... yeah, yeah she was. He just hadn't noticed. Man, why was he so tired? He'd gone longer with less. Then again, the hadn't gotten a full night's sleep in weeks, and a week of four to five hours of sleep a night, followed by a couple days of no sleep at all, had taken a toll on him.
"Sorry I didn't hear you... let's look over our notes, 'kay? I just want to get it over with." He shuffled through his papers. "How are you feeling about Oobleck's test? Think you'll be ready for it? I think I should do alright."
"You'll fail it if you fall asleep midway through!"
"Hey, I'm not gonna fall asleep, sheesh."
Ruby leaned over him and looked down at his notes. "Jaune... are those notes from today?"
"Yeah."
"I can hardly even read them!"
"They're just a little sloppy, is all."
"A lot of it is nothing but scribbles... you didn't even get half of what he talked about!"
"Hey..." He batted his hand against her shoulder, weakly. The movement was, as all his movements were, sluggish and slow. He felt cold. "Listen, I'm alright. I'll do alright on the test, let's just go through this."
He left his hand on her shoulder as he kept flipping through his notebook, a mindless action done without purpose. He was just flipping page after page after page, because it was the only thing that he could think of doing.
"Jaune, you've promised me, like, a bunch of times that you were going to try and sleep more." She took hold of his hand on her shoulder in both of her own, bringing it down. She kept holding it, however. "This is really worrying."
He looked at her. Her face... now that was bad. That was really bad. She'd gone from a pout to something different, a painful frown with shiny eyes, shiny silver eyes that conveyed a sense of concern that burrowed into him, filled him with a sense of guilt for being the source of her worry.
"Listen... it's not as easy as just sleeping, okay?" He extricated his hand from hers and got back to mindlessly flipping through his notebook. "Let's just get back to studying."
Ruby whined for a moment, looking at him, then looking at everywhere around him in a desperate bid to avoid his face. She nervously wrung her hands together.
Then she stopped looking around. Her gaze settled on something. Her hands stopped shifting. She smiled. "Okay, let's just go over there." She pointed behind him." I like those chairs better than these cruddy wooden ones."
He turned around and looked at what she was gesturing toward. She was pointing at a set of large, plush chairs that surrounded a small, short table. They definitely looked comfy. Yeah, he could see why Ruby might prefer those over the table they were sat at.
He shrugged. "Sure." He gathered his notes and hauled up his backpack. Ruby did the same, and both of them headed towards the seats.
He sat down and sighed as he leaned back. They were certainly comfortable. He dropped his notes on the table and arranged them all in what he hoped was a reasonable sort of organization. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. He didn't know. Ruby set her things down as well, then tugged on her chair and moved it so that it was right next to his own.
She plopped down and started to organize her things, but she started doing something else, too. She started humming. It was a tune he wasn't familiar with, which wasn't surprising, given he was unfamiliar with nearly everything in this world.
It was a light, pleasant melody. He liked it. Ruby didn't stop as she continued to shuffle through her papers, and had the Wanderer been in a better state of mind, then perhaps he would've noticed how she was shuffling through the same set of papers over and over again, never actually looking at what she was doing.
Her focus was on the humming, of getting the tune right, conveying something saccharine. It worked. He yawned and looked down at his notes, then yawned again and leaned back. There really wasn't much that he could, in this state. Well, he'd still stay awake...
He couldn't fall asleep, for fear of the nightmares. Then again, that fear seemed distant now that Ruby was here. Well, there was the fear of other people doing something to him while he was sleeping. He was in the middle of school, in the middle of the library. Yeah, but he was also right next to Ruby. She'd keep him safe. He trusted her. If he had a nightmare, then he could wake up and she'd be here for him.
He closed his eyes. He wouldn't fall asleep. No, he was just resting his eyes for a moment. He would rest his eyes and enjoy Ruby's soft humming, for just a short moment. Just a moment.
"I'm not going to fall asleep," he quietly mumbled to himself as he fell asleep.
The moment he woke up, he became aware of a few sensations. The most obvious one was something prodding into his cheek, gently but firmly. However, he didn't dare open his eyes and break the brilliant spell of comfiness that had enveloped him. He was incredibly comfortable, sunken in a plush chair, covered in a nice, soft fabric. Just as pleasing was the scent. The smell of strawberries, sweet and light, reached up to his nose. It was nice.
However, the feeling of something pressing into his cheek was incessant. He groaned and tried to weakly slap it away, but it didn't end. Eventually, he opened his eyes just a crack. He saw the finger that had poked him awake retract, then he saw the face of its owner.
"Hey there, sleepy head," Ruby said. A huge smile split her face. It was pretty.
The Lone Wanderer groaned and rubbed his eyes. He clutched the blanket closer to himself and turned away from Ruby, readjusting back into a comfortable position. He snuggled up with his blanket enjoyed the sweet strawberry scent.
Ruby punched him in the back. "Hey! Come on, it's getting late, and I need to get back to my team."
"Late... how late...?" Surely, he couldn't have been asleep for more than an hour—
"It's almost midnight. The library's open all day, but I want to get back to my bed to sleep."
What!? He jolted upright in his chair and looked around. Sure enough, the library was now entirely devoid of natural light, relying completely on various lamps and the glow from the rows of computers. There were only a few other students in the entire library, and only one librarian behind the counter.
It... it couldn't have been more than three when he went to sleep, and a quick check of the clock showed it was eleven-thirty. Had he seriously slept for over eight hours? No, not only had he slept for that long... he'd slept for that long, and not been accosted by nightmares. He... he actually felt well rested.
That... how...?
He looked to his side, at the girl smiling at him. He fell back into the chair once more. His head dropped, and it was then that he noticed just what, exactly, he'd been using as a blanket.
"You have me your hood?" he asked. The red fabric was surprisingly soft, and it just barely covered an area large enough to cover him fully. It was warm now that it had absorbed and trapped his body heat. It was incredibly comfortable.
"Well, yeah. I was afraid that you might get cold or something, so I threw it over you," Ruby answered with a smile. "I stayed here with you and studied and stuff while you were sleeping." She looked away bashfully. "Well, I studied at first, but I've just been playing video games for the last few hours..." She looked back at him, eyes wide with panic. "But don't tell Weiss! I told her and the others that I was busy just studying, and she'd kill me if she knew that I was here playing video games with you."
He shook his head slowly. "No, no I won't tell anyone." He looked back at her. "Did you really stay here with me?"
She flashed him another smile. "Well, yeah. It's not like I'd just leave you here alone." She looked away and scratched at the back of her head. "But I'm sorry I had to wake you up... it's just too late, and I need to get back to my room, before my team gets worried. You should, too."
"I'm not sure they'd mind much..."
"Well, mine would. And Yang would kill me if she learned I stayed out late with a boy..." Her face darkened into an odd shade of red. "Not like we were even doing anything!"
A thought hit him, a byproduct of all his natural paranoia. He narrowed his eyes, though there was nothing truly poisonous behind them. "You tricked me. You got me over here to these nice chairs to get me to fall asleep..."
"Yup!" Ruby said proudly, bereft of any shame. "I tricked you and made you sleep. Heh, I even hummed the way my mom used to do when I was really little to make me sleep. And it worked!"
The Lone Wanderer didn't know what to think. Maybe it was just the lingering exhaustion that was slowing him down, but he doubted it. There was much more here, a pure kind of shock that had infected his system. She'd stayed here to keep him safe. She'd given him the first full night of sleep he'd had in a month. She'd put out this effort expressly for him.
She...
"Thank you."
Ruby Rose answered with a smile.
Jaune Arc smiled back.
Winter Schnee was not a squeamish woman. She'd fought on the front lines against the Grimm and the White Fang alike for years, working her way up through the ranks until she reached her current position. All of that entailed a great deal of experience with war and everything related.
But even she was taken aback at the scene before her.
"These were the families of a few of the Atlas military personnel stationed here," a nearby soldier informed her. Atlas soldiers posted abroad were generally accompanied by their family for some portion of the year, and such had been the case here. The men and women here had likely been looking forward to being all-together once more. A vacation to Vale to see your relatives. It should have been nice.
Winter's hand clenched into shivering fists as she watched women and children be gently wrapped in body bags. Gently. All of the personnel on the scene were doing their best to be careful, to not disturb the civilians who'd met the terrible fate none of them deserved.
They stood in the small building that served as civilian quarters. This was where they'd run to in order to hide and be safe. To cower in fear and beg for mercy. Winter sneered and left the room, not wishing to stand the sight any longer.
She marched out of the complex, into the fresh night air that was tinged with the remaining scent of rot, expended dust and flame. Much of the base had been burned down, and her men were busy combing through the ashes to try and get a better idea of what had happened. Then again, it wasn't too hard to imagine what had occurred.
What few buildings remained from the blaze, which they'd determined to have been set only after the attack was done, stood alone and forlorn, filed now not with the personnel who were originally supposed to staff them, but those who'd come to clean up. She stared at one building in particular.
On the side of it, in red spray paint, was embossed the logo of the White Fang.
Winter sneered once more. These monsters. They'd attacked her and her family for years, and now they'd gone out of their way to strike out in what was perhaps the most brutal and brazen offense that they'd yet perpetrated. Stealing the paladins had been a bold move, to be sure, but it was nothing compared to this. That was a strategic move. This was a slaughter. Nothing more, nothing less. A slaughter that had effected civilians in a way that even the White Fang had generally been trying to avoid. Someone had not only struck at the base, but massacred unarmed families of those within, as well as other unarmed workers.
They'd stolen some weaponry, enough to arm a small cell, but this base didn't have anything of any particular value. The only weapons they'd stolen had been what was left in the armory as well as whatever they'd stripped from the soldiers. But surely that couldn't have been the goal of this mission, since plenty of weapons of such caliber could be procured via the black market. There was something else here.
This was a terror attack. They wanted to send a message.
Well, it would never be sent. The scene would be cleaned out, the bodies burned, the ash sent back to the families. It would be labeled a tragic attack by the Grimm, and the White Fang would gain nothing. A cold tactic, for sure, but it was better to be cold than to allow terrorist to get what they want.
Or maybe it was something else. They might've have known that there would be the usual cover-up, so if that was the case, why bother? Perhaps there was something more sinister here. Perhaps this was part of a larger plan. She'd spend many long nights working to uncover it.
The base had been small, little more than an outpost. There were no more than hundred troops stationed there in total, primarily to provide some security to a road that led to a port city further down on the coast. It was a fairly major through-faire, but the Grimm presence had been minimal and only bandits had ever been a problem.
But the base had certainly not been attacked by bandits. Even without the White Fang symbol, it was clear that no bandit group could have done this. It was brutal yet efficient, a quick and professional operation that had struck quickly. It had all the markings of Adam Taurus—literally.
There was evidence of all sorts of weaponry being used, primarily dust rounds and evidence for a crushing weapon, but the most obvious and the most prevalent of all the weapon markings had been slash-marks. Slash marks that all seemed to have the same origin, from a sword of quality make, undoubtedly wielded by someone with their aura unlocked. The slash marks were also all accompanied by scorches, undoubtedly the result of Taurus's particular semblance.
The walls, the ground and most of the corpses were cut and burned with impunity. The civilians, especially. They'd each bore that same kind of wound.
Winter grit her teeth. That monster would pay for this.
Adam Taurus stalked through the facility. It was an abandoned dust mine, a fittingly ironic place for the White Fang to install one of their cells. It had been a base of theirs for years, harboring one of their Vale cells ever since Sienna Khan first took over and began a more violent campaign.
Well, it seemed that all of that was over now.
Their cell in the area had been slaughtered, and he was only here to oversee the facility's evacuation of material. He'd had to bring in new men for the job, considering everyone who'd previously manned the base was dead.
He sat down on a crate as his surrounding followers went about their work. He pulled out a scroll and searched once more through the photos that had been taken. He'd warned the commander of this cell that he was being sloppy, but the fool had evidently not taken his advice to heart.
Now he'd overextended, and an entire village had payed the price.
It was a small faunus community, no more than a hundred or so, several miles away from the facility. It had once been the town where all the faunus miners had lived, before the mine shut down and the town shrunk, with most of them heading for the city. Now, what family had managed to escape to Vale would have their love ones' ashes shipped to them in the mail.
As was the usual case, the government would be hiding the tragedy. It wasn't just because they were faunus, Adam knew, but he was certain the humans on Vale's council would sleep easier knowing that it was only a few animals that had been killed. It was common practice to never report a brutal attack like this beyond notifying the immediate family of what had happened, to report it as a freak Grimm attack.
What would be unusual, however, was that it wasn't Grimm that slaughtered the whole village and the White Fang cell which had been hiding there, though the government would try and frame that as the case.
Adam looked through the photos that one of his agents had managed to take before the authorities arrived. They were depictions of a massacre. The entire cell, slaughtered and stripped of their weapons, along with all of the civilians. Men, women and children, all of whom had likely been begging for their lives before they were murdered.
He sneered at the sight of it all, and the scroll shook in his hands, so imbued with rage were they. Little kids and their parents, massacred without a second thought. Whoever had done this was just as much a monster as any Grimm. He analyzed the pictures, making out the clear signs of the combat, from bullets holes to great scorch marks that accompanied deep slashes. Most corpses had met the same fate of being cleaved and burned.
Adam would find the monster responsible for this, and he would make him pay.
Oh my, things are getting a little nasty.
This chapter, as well as the last, are shorter, though they still accomplish what I wish them too. I've always been frank that chapter length will vary. Some of them have been extremely long, like chapter 9, which clocks in at 12-thousand words, a pretty ludicrous amount. This fic is already as long as a novel. I chalk up the dip in length to the fact that I have finals and other creative projects drawing on my time. Eh, I still think it's a good amount, and I hope there hasn't been a drop in quality.
Also, happy to say that we have now gotten past the bulk of the edginess in this fic. I've been progressively toning it down for the last few chapters, and I thank everyone for bearing through it with me. I think that his initial behavior is understandable, given all he's been through. However, just being understandable doesn't mean it's justifiable or make him any less of a dick, but I hope that everyone realizes by now that I wasn't just making him out to be angsty because I thought it was cool or edgy.
Now, the narration in his POV has finally referred to him as 'Jaune Arc' for the first time. That's got quite a bit of symbolism behind it.
Anyhow, feel free to review with any critiques or questions. See you this time next week.