Putting this one out sooner than 5 months, lol
"Aw come on, don't leave me hanging!" Ruby said. "Come on Weiss, you're going to make Mr. Hand sad!"
"I don't care about your hand, Ruby," her belligerent partner replied. Weiss sat down on the bench, arms crossed. "I refuse to entreat you after waking us up so early. We've been waiting for such a while…"
Yang giggled. Her sister and her sister's bestie were just too much fun sometimes. She looked away from them and enjoyed the view of the sunrise over the Emerald Forest, their bickering a pleasant backdrop.
At the moment, team RWBY was waiting at Beacon's small airfield, ready to be picked up soon. They'd be ferried to Vale, where a different bullhead would pick them up again and bring them to a fairly close village where they'd be on guard for beowolves.
"They're cute," Yang said to her partner. Blake sat beside her on a bench, nose in a book as usual.
She smiled. "They are. It's a fun team."
"Yeah," Yang said. She sighed. "Still a little bored."
Blake hummed. "Should get a book."
"Nah."
"Then don't complain."
Yang looked at her partner, then back to her sister and teammate bickering. Ruby seemed to be holding up her right hand like it was a mouth, and it was lecturing Weiss for not returning the high-five. Weiss, meanwhile, refused to address 'Mr. Hand'.
Yang smiled again.
Absent of anything better to do, she reached down to the backpack between her legs and rooted through its contents for a bit, then pulled out a brush. She took hold of some of her illustrious hair and ran the bristles through.
"Your hair is so high maintenance," Blake commented.
"Yup, and I love it. Never getting rid of this gold," Yang said, happily stroking her long locks.
Man, this was nice. Here she was with her best friends, about to depart on a sick new adventure. A giddy excitement had been fizzling in her stomach like the fuse of a firecracker. She hoped that things would blow up soon.
"After this, maybe you can have a day off." He spoke through a black gas mask.
The Commander only grunted, brushing off the suggestion without a moment's consideration. Instead, he continued doing pushups in the middle of the train car.
"I'm serious," said his lieutenant, sitting back on a wooden crate. "Even now, you're working yourself to death."
The Commander didn't answer; instead, he finished a few more push-ups before standing.
"That was nothing," he said, and it was true. He breathed through his gas mask easily, not even winded by the workout. "Just something to get my blood going after having to wake up so early." Coincidentally, he yawned at that moment, but through his mask it sounded more like some bizarre wheeze.
"Besides," he continued, "exercise is good for endorphins, which is good for both mental and physical health—"
"I know, I know," his lieutenant said, waving a hand dismissively. "I was just joking about that—but I wasn't joking about the day off. In the two years we've been at this, you haven't taken a single day off." He shook his head. "I can't remember you ever going on vacation back before, either."
"Because we can't afford it." The Commander sighed. "If we could, then yes I would certainly go on vacation."
"But we're better off now than we've ever been before—"
"Which just means I should be all the more careful," the Commander said, cutting him off and wagging a finger at the man. "Be as careful at the middle and the end as you are in the beginning."
"I'm just saying that now there are people you can delegate to, that maybe you can get over the workaholic control-freak part of yourself for a period of just 24-hours."
"24 hours is a long time in war," the Commander replied. "And we are at war, mind you."
"I know, but even soldiers are given leave. Even you might crack eventually without a break."
"Hmph." The Commander crossed his arms and said nothing. After a few moments of silence, he eventually said, "Fine, I'll think about it."
His lieutenant only laughed. "I know you, and I know that answer means you won't think about it at all."
The Commander shrugged.
"Oh come on," the lieutenant said, "this is the biggest thing we've done since that Edrian business or the bullhorn raid. We're going to be lying low after this, so you won't have missions—"
"But I can help train the recruits."
"We've already got some vets who can train them."
"But I can help with logistics."
"You're great with spreadsheets, but Blair can take on a bigger workload for a little bit."
The Commander tutted and placed his hands on his hips. "You're a devil on my shoulder."
"Au contraire, I'm the angel. The only devil here is you."
"That's no way to be talking to a superior officer."
The lieutenant laughed again. "Can it, you really going to pull rank to shut me up?"
The Commander laughed as well. "No, I could never do that to you. You wouldn't listen even if I tried. Your mouth is too big, and your brain is too slow."
They chuckled for a little while. The Commander retrieved his sword, which he'd left leaning against the side of the train car. He sat down on the crate next to his lieutenant.
"Besides, aren't I taking a break right now? We're just waiting."
This time, being carried by Orion was a bit more comfortable—barely.
It was, at least, lacking in fear for immediate and painful death. There was none of the original terror and confusion, which made everything markedly better. But he was still tightly pressed against the tough hide of a monster, which quickly bounded through pitch-black tunnels.
However, the only thing that truly bothered him at the moment was Ren. His teammate had been captured. Captured while he was away. He was their leader, but he'd failed.
Jaune grit his teeth and hoped Orion would hurry.
If Ren had been hurt, he'd personally skin alive every White Fang son of a bitch in Mountain Glenn.
The deathclaw bounded through the darkness. As he did, Jaune began fantasizing unpleasantly: he imagined his dear friend beaten, hurt, tortured, killed…
Breathe deep. Hold. Release.
Stupid fucking thoughts.
"We're here," Orion said. He dropped Jaune on his feet.
Jaune pulled out his scroll and used the lockscreen's dim light to get a bearing of the otherwise pitch-black surroundings, not daring to possibly give away their position with the stronger flashlight. With the meager glow, he saw a large gate set into a tunnel entrance ahead of them.
"It's alright," Orion said. "I don't sense anyone near, or up ahead. They're further down, concentrated by the old station." He lumbered toward the gate. Despite his great size, Orion naturally walked almost silently. His feet were padded, and his gait distributed weight evenly and forwards, so his footsteps barely produced any noise.
He gingerly reached out one claw, with the tip of which he put a code in the gate's keypad.
"Code accepted," said an electronic voice.
"I eavesdropped on a patrol that came through here," Orion explained. "I've used this entrance ever since." Orion pushed open the heavy gate, Jaune following closely behind.
"The militia will be roused and come here immediately. Hm. Many will be asleep, but they'll come fast. And armed. Mostly with rifles I took from the White Fang I killed." Orion lead him through the cave, at the end of which a dull light shone. "Twenty minutes is the earliest we can be ready."
"Alright," Jaune said. "It will probably take longer to find the others…"
"Hm." Orion said nothing more as they emerged into a large cavern.
Jaune turned off his scroll. Large cracks in the cavern ceiling let the twilight seep down. Sunrise had just begun. The exhilaration and adrenaline of fighting Grimm, being kidnapped by a monster and now having a friend in mortal danger all kept him from feeling too much of the exhaustion that an all-nighter enforced. However, his body definitely felt slightly more sluggish than it should have. His reaction time wouldn't be quite as acute. All of that, combined with the wear from a day of fighting Grimm, took a toll.
I'm out of practice. Back in the wasteland, I could go a couple days with no sleep, barely eating or resting, and I'd still be ready for a fight.
He looked down at his body. His muscle mass had certainly grown with access to proper nutrition and calibrated exercise. But not all the weight he'd gained was muscle. Damn ice cream. Stupid candy. No more sugar once this is over. You've embraced Remnant's decadence, and that has made you weak.
He shook his head. Even this. His mind was wandering more than it should be. Stay focused, idiot.
He looked ahead and took in the environment. More ruined buildings, a smaller under the city.
"This is where many refugees took shelter as the city fell," Orion explained. "Hm. Then the Grimm dug through the ceiling, tore through the streets. They breached the subway, and the last bastion became a final massacre."
A once lively place, now a total ghost town.
"We've done our best to excavate the corpses over the years," Orion said. "Give them proper funerals."
"I guess that's why this place isn't full of skeletons, huh?"
Orion nodded. Wordlessly, he led Jaune carefully down the cavern, towards the nearest abandoned building. They slipped in through a collapsed wall section. Then Jaune crept through and looked up through a busted window, peering between cracks. At the far end of the cavern, he saw spotlights set up. He even barely made out some movement.
"The White Fang operate down there," Orion explained. "They would have taken your friend there. Hm. He should still be alive. They would want to question him."
"And he won't tell them anything," Jaune said. He brought one hand to the hilt of Crocea Mors and squeezed it so tightly that the steel hilt creaked under his superhuman force. "And then they'll get rid of him when they realize that."
"We race against time," Orion said. "Hold on." He stood taller and raised his head in the air, craning around as if looking out over a vast field, even though there was not but a cramped and dark cavern before them.
Jaune said nothing as Orion focused, looking around seemingly at nothing. He looked in one direction and leaned forward, peering into the distance.
"That way," he said, pointing a claw at the side of the cavern. "There is life that way. I can feel it, people with aura. They always stand out more strongly to my semblance. And there is very little other life in Mountain Glenn to pollute my tracking. Hm." Orion nodded resolutely. "It must be them."
"How do I get to them?"
"From that direction is another entrance to the cave, but that one is open and guarded, so I avoided it. Your team must be preparing to attack into the cavern from there. I feel some other life, no aura. The guards."
"Alright, then I'll go meet up with them."
"And I'll wait here for the militia."
"How do we coordinate when to attack?"
"Hm." Orion sat back on his haunches and growled in that contemplative manner of his. His head jerked up to look at Jaune when he got an idea. "There is a building near that entrance, one that had a McDonough's restaurant on its first level. Climb to the top of it, and when I sense you're there, I'll know." He pointed one claw at the far end of the cavern. "We'll sneak around, strike there."
"Sounds good."
"Hm. But if you get loud with the guards, if they have guns, I'll lead the militia in immediately."
"Guess there's that, too," Jaune said. "I've never been one for finesse, but I'll try to stay quiet until you're ready."
Orion nodded. "Keep your team on that side of the cavern. I'll move in with the militia shooting behind from the other side. You head toward the train cars, and we'll head to their hq, the main building."
"It's a plan," Jaune said. He fidgeted where he stood, desperate to sprint and meet up with his team as quickly as he could, holding back only because he knew how important it was to strategize.
"Twenty minutes," Orion said. "The militia should be here by then, hopefully."
"Hopefully," Jaune said. He slapped Orion's arm—as one would a comrade—then ran to the nearest door.
"Jaune."
He stopped with one foot in the doorframe, then turned back to his new deathclaw companion.
"Good luck," Orion said with a nod.
"Knowing you've got my back, I won't need it," Jaune said. He nodded back, then turned and rushed out into the cavern.
He crouched low and as close to the floor as he could while dashing across the street. He made himself as small a target to spot as he could, all the more necessary as whatever faunus lookouts they had would certainly see through the dark. Although, he cringed at the loud scrapes his feet made against the torn stone ground.
But Orion was right that no one was near. He got to another building, what appeared to be an old office complex, with no troubles. He vaulted in through a broken window, then jogged through the interior.
As he neared the side of the building, he ducked and slowed. He drew Crocea Mors, finger off the trigger. The chainsword's scream would surely echo throughout the cavern, alerting everybody who wasn't deaf. Better to just bludgeon some people.
Ugh. Would he bother being non-lethal? No. Not in a situation this tense, with murderers and terrorists. His teammates would just have to accept his actions.
He looked down at his outfit, a navy blue coat and pants. At least it was dark enough that any blood would simply be dark stains, indiscernible. Easy to ignore.
Perhaps five or so minutes after leaving Orion, and another building to creep through, he reached a different window, then peeked up–
He immediately ducked as a body flew through the window and crashed into some desk behind him.
"Holy shit!" He looked back at the unconscious White Fang grunt crumpled on the ground. Cautiously, he looked over the edge of the window—
He immediately ducked again as a bronze disc cut through the air almost as quickly as a bullet, missing his skull by but an inch and lodging into the wall behind him.
He threw his hands into the air, visible from outside through the window. "It's me!" he said, paradoxically trying to yell as quietly as possible, hoping his voice wouldn't carry too far. "Pyr, it's me!"
"Jaune?"
He saw his conspicuous (with her scarlet hair and impressive height) partner in the gloom, standing in the doorway of another building across a spacious alley. Immediately, a bright smile shone on her face.
"Pyr," Jaune said as he vaulted through the window, "sorry I couldn't—"
Jaune was cut off as Pyrrha charged in and swept him up in a hug. She squeezed as hard as she could, such that Jaune felt like he was trapped in one of those giant industrial compactors they use to crush a car into a neat little cube.
"Jesus god—" he wheezed, lungs forcefully emptied.
"We were so worried!" Pyrrha said.
He answered with a strangled gasp.
"Jaune!?"
And there you go, it was about to get worse.
Nora suddenly sprinted out the same building and wrapped both arms around her teammates, then squeezed even tighter than Pyrrha was.
Jaune's lungs cried in pain, but he couldn't deny a potent feeling of happiness.
"Alright come on, get serious," said another voice, a gruff one.
For once, Jaune was grateful that Qrow was butting in.
Nora let go of them, and then Pyrrha stepped back as well, allowing Jaune to breathe once more. Looking over, he saw past Qrow into the building, where terrorists lay unconscious on the floor before a tunnel entrance. They must have been quick about getting through and crushing the guards. He'd shown up right on time.
"They took Ren," Nora said. Her voice sounded like shuddering glass, close to cracking.
And when he looked back at her, his heart sunk. The look on her face… he'd never imagined that his ever-jubilant companion could look so distraught, worried and terrified all at once. Her eyes were wide and panicked. Everything about her posture was hunched and guarded, as if she were exposed, a layer of herself stripped away and made raw.
Jaune kept his mouth shut. He didn't trust his own acting performance very well, so might as well try to act as little as possible.
Pyrrha stretched out a hand, and her shield flew back out of the window, covered in the dark tinge of her polarity. When she caught it, she turned back to Jaune. "We thought you were dead!" Her voice was an angry whisper, some mix between relief, fear and anger. "That beowolf—"
"Dragged me away," Jaune said, cutting her off. "I got free and carved it out. But it dragged me into the sewers so…" He shrugged. "I wandered around and came out here. No scroll signal underground either, sorry."
"Well," Qrow said, "as you can see, the White Fang have set up a full operation. Once you went missing, we scoured the city and found this chasm."
"And now we found you!" Nora clasped her hands together, a sad and desperate smile on her face.
Qrow had a more reserved smile on his face. He reached out and placed his hands on Jaune's shoulder, then squeezed lightly. It felt very nice.
"You dropped this," he said, holding out the Mysterious Magnum.
"Guess I did," Jaune said, taking hold of the gun. Its comfortable and familiar grip reassured him. He felt somewhat whole again, with his arsenal properly rounded out once more.
"But they captured Ren?" he asked, quickly changing the subject.
"Yeah…" Pyrrha said, trailing off for not knowing what else to say.
"It was my fault," Nora said quickly, guiltily. Her speech was rushed, desperate, panicked. Everything about her, from the look in her eyes to the hunch in her shoulders to jitter in her feet, was on edge and without total control. "We were walking around and we saw some cracks and Ren told us to be careful but I kept walking and the ground gave out and he jumped and pulled me back but"- she stopped to catch her breath, also bringing a hand up to wipe out a tear forming in her eye –"he pushed me out the way and he fell instead and—"
"Hush," Pyrrha said, cupping Nora's hands in her own. "It's not your fault; he made that choice."
"But—"
"It's really not your fault," Qrow said. He sighed. "Sometimes, there's just a bit of bad luck around…"
"But—"
"But nothing," Jaune said. "We go and we get him. Now."
"We saw him getting dragged off by a few of the White Fang," Qrow said. "He got knocked out on the way down; if he hadn't, then no way these schmucks would've been able to take him in." He jerked a thumb back to the entrance they came from, as well as the half-dozen unconscious guards. "They're not much."
"We interrogated that one," Pyrrha said, pointing past Jaune and at the building he'd just come from. She must have meant the poor guy who got flung through the window… he wouldn't be waking up for a while… or maybe ever. Especially if Orion got to him later.
"He told us they took Ren to the admin building, which has a big blue sign on it," Nora said. He reached around her back and tugged out Magnhild, which she extended into the full hammer form. Her fists tightened around it, and a vicious scowl formed on her brow. "So lets get him."
Jaune had never seen her like this, this mix of anxiety and anger. He hadn't even known she was quite capable of it.
But he didn't blame her at all. He felt the same fear—he was just better at hiding it for the sake of the fight.
"Well first let's try to get a look of what their setup is here," he said. "Maybe we can get up in one of the buildings, get a view of the place—"
"No time," Nora said. She'd swung now from near hysterical to downright mad. "We run in and bash anybody in our way and save him before he's hurt!"
"If we don't do it right, then he gets hurt and so will we," Jaune said, voice monotone.
"Have to agree," Qrow said. "We want to at least know a bit of what we're getting into—"
"No time!" Nora repeated, this time snapping out the words. "We have to get him back now!"
"They're already going to be expecting us," Jaune said, still keeping his voice even, as agreeable as possible. "So they'll be waiting, which means we need to at least sort of know what we're getting into."
"But—"
"Hey," Jaune said. He walked up and reached out, wrapping his hands around hers, even as they were balled into fists around Magnhild. "If we don't keep our cool, this will go south real fast."
"But—"
"Look at me," Jaune said. "Look me in the eye."
Nora seemed ready to keep fighting. She looked down, gritting her teeth, holding back a shout. She wanted to scream in his face, wanted to go ballistic. Surely, she'd done just that a bit before. He didn't doubt that she'd crushed a lot of bones a minute ago.
But he was her leader and her friend, and she trusted and respected him. After a moment, she swallowed. He felt her hands slacken beneath his own. Then she tilted her head up and looked him in the eye.
That close, he could now tell she must have been crying. He saw the red in her eyes, a bit puffier now. Ren was almost everything to her (to a frankly unhealthy extent).
"Just breathe in, hold it, then let it go," he said. "Keep your cool. Otherwise, we'll die and he'll die too."
"I…" She stopped talking, then screwed her eyes shut.
She breathed in deep. She held it. She let it go.
He felt her hands slacken even more, and he saw her shoulders lose some of their stiffness.
"Alright, now we go out, find a vantage point, get ready to strike."
Nora nodded. "Got it."
"Maybe I should do some scouting," Qrow said.
"I'd be more comfortable if you kept with us for a bit," Jaune replied. "Don't want to get too split up around here… never know who might be around." He didn't want Qrow discovering Orion and the militia, then getting panicked. Better to keep him close.
Qrow grunted, a simple acceptance.
Without another word, the team was off. He scanned the area and saw the McDonough's, then lead his team to it, weapons raised in gun forms.
Gratefully, they got to the right building without being sighted. They rushed into the McDonough's, and the others didn't protest when he suggested getting up to the top. Taking the stairs two at a time, the team shortly were on the roof and overlooking the nearby train station. He pulled out his scroll and zoomed in.
"There's a lot of them," Pyrrha said. They saw figures milling around, mostly concentrated around a train. They were filling it with cargo.
"Must be some humans," Qrow said, "otherwise they wouldn't bother with the lights."
"Probably Torchwick and Neo, or the gas masks," Jaune said. "Maybe they even have the other Paladin models they stole here."
"I hope not," Qrow said. "But if they do, Miss Magnet can take them, right?"
"They're big but yes," Pyrrha said. "My polarity can counter them."
"I see it!" Nora said. "The admin building; it's over there to the left of the train." She pointed, and sure enough there was a dilapidated, two-story office, half of which was fully collapsed. "He's in there!"
"Alright, let's think up a plan," Jaune said.
They talked, and the plan came out like this:
Qrow's semblance lets him turn into a bird (new information that left Pyrrha and Nora quite surprised for a moment). He'll fly up ahead and try to get into that building. There, he frees Ren. Meanwhile, Jaune, Nora and Pyrrha will get as close as they can, moving through the building to link up with them at the admin building, taking out any White Fang that they see. They'll draw the attention, and any White Fang that rush out to fight them will get flanked by Qrow and Ren. From there, they can try to make their escape if the fighting gets too heavy.
"I think me and ninja-boy should just try to make a break for it," Qrow said. "I'm not sure we're going to be able to take them all on by ourselves, if they've got Torchwick, the gas masks, robots and whoever knows how many White Fang who are actually skilled." Frustrated, he pulled out his flask and took a gulp, then wiped his lips. "Might as well just try to get back and warn Ozpin and the Council."
Yeah, that's not going to work. If Orion and the militia commit, but we don't, then the survivors of Mountain Glenn will all be in danger.
"But if they're planning something bad with that train, we might need to stop them now."
"Hell…" Qrow weighed the option, not entirely convinced.
Jaune grit his teeth. How much damn time had passed—
He heard a roar. It echoed through the previously quiet cavern, filling up the space like a sudden boom of thunder.
In fact, everyone heard it. The others gasped and looked down the chasm. There was immediate shouting down by the train station, as well as shooting.
A moment later, and there were also horrible, pained screams.
"Grimm are attacking!" Pyrrha looked down with worry.
"Go!" Jaune said to Qrow. "Go get Ren, and the rest of us will go in loud!"
"Grimm are doing us a favor for once," Qrow said.
Well, not actually.
But of course, Jaune didn't correct his mentor as the man fizzled into a cloud of smoke, his physical form condensing into a bird. He flapped his wings and quickly darted off the roof and into the gloom.
The three fell back to the stairs and jumped down several at a time, going as fast as they could. Once they reached the ground floor and rushed out of the building, they heard that the gunfire had picked up even more. In the distance, muzzle flashes quite conspicuously flared in the windows of an abandoned building.
Thankfully, the others either didn't notice yet or figured they were more terrorists gunning at whatever Grimm had busted into the cabin.
He ignored it, trusting the militia and Orion to keep the attention as he charged forward, drawing the Mysterious Magnum. "Nora," he said, "once we get in range, light it up."
"Will do!" His teammate brandished her grenade launcher as they charged. Ahead of them, a few White Fang grunts rushed to the commotion, completely unaware of the hunter threat.
They neared, and Nora raised Magnhild. She pulled the trigger.
Grenade after grenade fired, streaking up through the air. Jaune barely kept track of the dark little shapes as they arced through the dim cavern—then they came back to life.
Each violently exploded, tearing into the large shipping containers and rugged buildings around the station. One in particular struck down on a container and—
BOOM!
"Jesus!" Jaune closed his eyes as the container exploded into an immense cloud of flame and lightning that flumed up like a titan that nearly touched the cave's roof and momentarily lit the entire cavern. It sent nearby faunus flying and yelling. The dust left inside continued to burn in a bizarre inferno that was part flame, part electricity.
"It was full of dust!" Pyrrha said. "Is this where they've taken all the dust they stole?"
"Seems like it," Jaune said. "Hang back; you don't know if more dust is gonna catch—"
"Oh it will!" Nora shouted. She'd reloaded her grenade launcher and raised it again. She launched off another volley of shots, which came down around the station. This time, she aimed specifically for the shipping containers. A couple more were hit, but they were empty duds. She did strike another one, however, which exploded into a rage of ice, shooting frozen gusts of wind and shards of ice like jagged shrapnel. That prompted a new brand of shouting, screaming and running as a dozen terrorists were thrown off their feet and hurled away, injured or dead. When Jaune looked over, he saw that it had put a smile on Nora's face.
"I'm out now," she said. She pressed a button and swung Magnhild out into its full hammer form. "Time to get personal!"
"Seems like it," Jaune said.
Pyrrha raised her spear and shield. "Let's teach them a lesson."
The three charged, and something about it felt so… right. Despite himself, a smile came onto Jaune's face. He didn't doubt for a moment that Qrow would free Ren. He was certain that Orion had already ripped apart a dozen terrorists. He knew that Nora and Pyrrha, as elite as they were, would be fine. He was confident in his own skills. He and his team were kickass, and they were doing good.
He smiled, because they would crush it.
He charged forward, and as they finally passed by the first empty train cars and smoldering wrecks of containers that had finally died down in their infernos, they at last ran into a few White Fang. Just a couple of them.
He pulled the trigger twice, and then there were none. The magnum's booms left them silent; only squelching and cracking noises emanated from their bodies; flesh and organs were torn apart, and bones were crushed. The high-powered dust rounds of the Mysterious Magnum were strong enough to puncture Grimm hides and scales. He hadn't bothered to bring any of the 'light' rounds that could bruise and knock out human combatants.
Pyrrha stopped dead. Her bravado blanched as she saw the men suddenly have large holes in the middle of their chests. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. The color drained from her face. Nora, meanwhile, was oblivious, having rushed in a different direction to swing Magnhild at another pair of sword-wielding faunus.
His partner was frozen. Slowly, she turned to look at him.
"Don't go getting cold feet," he told her. His face was resolute, unsympathetic; his voice, cold. "This is a real fight."
A second went by. Then Pyrrha shivered, and she closed her eyes tightly. When she opened them again, that shaky, uncertain look was still on her face. But she nodded.
Jaune nodded back. He reloaded a few rounds into the magnum and cocked it just as Nora got back from her bone breaking. Another roar was heard in the distance, a fresh round of screaming. The screams were cut off quickly, however, and then the three saw a dark shape flying up through the cavern, headed straight for them.
When it landed in front of them with a wet smack, they realized it was a mauled corpse. Apparently, Orion was really letting them have it.
"Oh gods!" Nora screeched and jumped back. She'd been the closest, and a splash of blood spurted up and onto her. She gasped and wiped some off of her face, but then panicked to see that it had stained her clothes.
"Come on!" Jaune said. "Get a grip of yourselves—what, you figured you'd never have to deal with stuff like this?"
"I didn't—"
"Get used to it right now, because we've got a job to do." Jaune rushed ahead, brandishing his pistol. "These people will kill you without a problem, so if you hold back, you'll die." He didn't leave room for a response, running out deeper into the train station.
He jumped up onto a stray, flat train car. A few more White Fang ran further down, rushing through a spotlight's glare.
Breathe deep. Hole. Release.
His finger curled around the trigger—
A hail of bullets fell upon the faunus, and they dropped, completely limp and unmoving.
"What the? Who are they!?" Pyrrha pointed to the abandoned building Jaune had noticed earlier, where the hints of muzzle flashed flared up, where Mountain Glenn's militia must have posted up.
"No idea," Jaune lied. "Must be some scavengers or something taking the chance."
They heard another roar. This time, they also saw the source of it. Looking over, they saw a large, monstrous shape dash through a spotlight's illumination, charging through the train yard and pouncing on a group of terrified grunts running away.
"There they are!"
Jaune swore and ducked as a few bullets streaked by. Faunus with a few rifles and pistols ran out of a building nearby while they'd been distracted by Orion. He, Nora and Pyrrha were forced to take cover around a train car.
"I've got them!" Pyrrha said. She crouched down to look under their train car. She reached a hand out toward their enemies.
Jaune peeked around the corner of their cover, just in time to see a pile of rail beams beside the terrorists shudder. The long steel beams shook and rose into the air. The grunts noticed this too late, turning just in time to see the metal come their way. It impacted hard and picked them up off their feet, sending them crashing back into the old cement of a nearby building. They were smashed into a heap of twisted metal and broken bones.
Jaune patted her shoulder. "Good job."
His partner only nodded, but then they all winced at the grand blare of the train's horn. It sounded loud and dominating, overcoming even the spats of gunfire.
Looking back around his cover, Jaune saw one of the trains shudder. White Fang grunts ran towards it and jumped on; he even saw Roman Torchwick hop on, firing back with his cane. Given the direction of the roars, the thief must have been trying to suppress Orion.
"Damn it!" He stomped on the ground, cracking the stone floor in his rage. "They're getting away!"
"And where is Ren!" Nora said, panic edging back into her voice.
A few bullets pinged near them, forcing the trio back into cover. He looked under the train car and saw a couple more grunts coming their way, rifles raised. He was about to ask Pyrrha to work her magic, when—
A streak of green flew out of nowhere, coming up behind the faunus, jumping in the air and simultaneously kicking them both in the head. They were sent sprawling, unconscious, to the floor.
"Yes!" Nora cheered. She immediately broke cover and dashed out, so fast that she was barely a blur, kicking up dust and gravel with each step. She jumped the last few feet, nearly knocking over Ren as she pulled him into a massive hug.
"We're still in a warzone!" Jaune yelled after her. "Be careful, idiot!" His anger frothed from sheer concern, since he'd seen plenty of people get dropped while running around. He dropped plenty of them himself.
Ren dragged Nora near a wall as Jaune and Pyrrha ran after them (after first checking around to make sure that no more enemies were visible).
Nora still hadn't let go of her partner as Qrow came up and joined them. He smiled and said, "told you I'd get him."
"I'm so glad you're okay," Nora said, sounding on the verge of tears.
"I'm alright," Ren said. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and a odd grey color settled on her. She immediately stopped shaking, and her breathing leveled out.
"You sure?" Jaune asked. "They didn't hurt you too bad?" He touched one hand against the pocket inside his jacket. The pocket that held his remaining two stimpaks.
Ren nodded, and look at that, Jaune realize he had a nasty bruise on his forehead. "I'm a bit beat up, but nothing too serious."
Jaune's hand dropped. Stimpaks were for absolute emergencies only.
"Alright, all very heartwarming," Qrow said. "But that train is gonna get away if we let this reunion go on too long. And I saw a nasty Grimm over there, looked like the thing that took Jaune."
"Then we should avoid it," Jaune quickly said. "What about the train?"
They looked up, and sure enough, the train had gained up some speed and was heading out into a tunnel. A tunnel with a big sign on top marked: Vale
"They're headed for the city," Pyrrha said.
"A train full of dust and terrorists," Jaune said. "Lets got on there and take care of anybody who gets in our way."
Another bout of screams sounded not too far away, accompanied by a barrage of gunfire. Not only that, but a couple of the stolen prototype paladins charged away from the train and toward the source of the roaring and gunfire.
"And I think it might be best to get out of here," Ren said. "Before more Grimm come in."
"Can't agree more," Jaune said. Let's get out before you learn any more about Orion and the militia. Without giving the others time to argue or reconsider, he ran for the train, forcing them to follow.
He remained vigilant, looking left, right and center as he progressed, but it seemed that now all their foes were either on the train or distracted by Orion and the survivors.
The train's massive bulk gained momentum. It had gone from a lurch, to a trundle to now a smoother push, getting faster with each second. If he'd still been on Earth, Jaune may not have made it. But now he could temporarily tap into a burst of speed that rivaled even the Olympian sprinters of old.
He and the others charged, catching up with the train just as it fully got into the tunnel. He leapt up and grabbed onto the rail of the caboose, with the others hopping up and grabbing on as well.
Once he had a grip and hauled himself up, he looked back. The mouth of the tunnel grew smaller and smaller as the train quickened to max speed, and the entrance to the tunnel shrunk to nothingness as they were wrapped up by the dark cement walls of the subway. He could only hope that Orion and the others would take care of those robots and however many terrorists were left.
"Alright," Qrow said, panting and recovering from their sprint. He peeked through a window and into the cabin. "It looks like this car has just a ton of crates in it."
"Must be packed full of dust," Pyrrha said. "Like those other big containers were."
"But why?" Nora said.
"You saw how they blew up," Jaune said. "A whole train full of dust will make a hell of boom."
"Gods." Qrow wore a worried scowl. "We're basically riding one giant bomb."
"A bomb that'll go off just under Vale," Ren said. Despite his normally calm demeanor, he gulped nervously.
They were silent for a second, the gravity of the situation falling upon them, snuffing out their spirit for a moment.
"Let's go on top," Jaune said. "If we do, they might not be expecting us, and we can just shoot down at the connectors as we go and break up the train."
With no dissent, they climbed up.
Once he got on top, the wind and noise were even more intense. It sounded like a constant, distant scream scraped along all around him, pushing against him, hating him. It whipped his hair and his jacket. A mean spirit.
"Alright!" he yelled over the wind. "Let's get going!"
"Um, what is that?" Nora yelled, pointing at something embedded into the roof of the train.
Jaune ran by and looked down at what Nora had pointed out. He narrowed his eyes, seeing a metal tube wrapped in a mess of wires and buttons and…
Ah shit.
"This is a bomb!" he yelled to the others.
"What!? Are you sure?" Pyrrha asked.
"I've seen plenty, so yeah," he said. He crouched down by the bomb. It was fairly small, but easily enough to ignite the rest of the dust in the train car. His eyes roved its wires.
"I don't think you should mess with that," Qrow said. He placed a hand on Jaune's shoulder. "Let's just detach the car—"
"No, I know what I'm doing," Jaune said. He focused on the bomb and how it all fit together. "I've dealt with bombs before. Used to defuse mines and IED's all the time. "
Finally, that awful trek through mine-town and all the wasteland's innumerable booby traps were actually helping.
"This setup is pretty simple and open; they must not have thought anybody would be up here to try and defuse it."
He was tracing a few wires with the tip of his finger before they all heard a loud CLANK and the car below them shuddered.
What was that?
"They detached the car!"
"Damn it," Jaune swore under his breath. He looked up and saw that their car was slowly falling backing away from the rest of the train, no longer powered.
"Run!" Qrow yelled, and the others didn't need to be told twice.
They sprinted for dear life, then leapt across the widening gap between them and survival. Jaune was the last to go, following behind the others. His muscles clenched as he launched off and was in the air for a moment, the wind rushing around him and the train tracks rushing by below like an angry, metal river.
He reached out and grabbed hold of the edge of the next car's roof, the rest of his body flopping down and smacking the side of the car. Ren grabbed his sleeve and hauled him up.
Mere moments later, the train car that had drifted away—exploded.
The force of it in the tunnel deafened them and blew them all of their feet with a wash of heat from the fire dust and god knows what else. Jaune landed face-first on the car, slapping his cheek against the sheer steel. He heard only a painful ring, and it felt like sharp nails had been hammered into his ears. It was only because of his aura that his eardrums hadn't ruptured and turned to mush.
He groveled on the car, cradling his head with his hands, squeezing his eyes shut and wishing that the pain in his ears would go away. He only dimly registered the crashing of rock and the shouts of his team.
As his hearing cleared up again, another cacophony arose:
Monsters. A rage of howls, hisses and roars ascended.
"Grimm!" Pyrrha said.
When he finally looked back, Jaune's eyes widened at the sight of red flashes in the dark tunnel behind them, the menacing eyes of Remnant's monsters.
"They're leading Grimm into the city!" Qrow said. "Gods damn it!"
Jaune grit his teeth and forced himself to stand. He suffered some vertigo as he tried to right himself on the shaky train, still without all his bearings after that blast.
"This one's rigged too!" Nora said, pointing to another bomb identical to the one on the last car.
"Damn it!" Jaune rushed for it, sliding to his knees to reach it and crouch over.
Breathe deep. Hold. Release.
He narrowed his eyes and focused on the bomb, observing the wires and buttons. It was just a matter of finding the connection between—
"We got baddies!" Nora said, pointing ahead to many White Fang grunts who'd climbed up on top a train car further ahead.
"Take care of them!" Jaune said. "I'm gonna take care of this bomb!"
"You sure you can—"
"Go!"
The others, even if they weren't entirely convinced of his ability to defuse a bomb, decided that beating down the bad guys would still be a good plan.
So they rushed forward and engaged the grunts who dared to oppose them. They did so non-lethally, breaking bones and incapacitating their foes. Well, his teammates did. Qrow wasn't afraid to get in a fatal slash here and there to force corpses to the ground, no longer a threat.
Meanwhile, Jaune focused on the bomb. A part of him thought about just ripping it out, since it was bolted into the roof of the train. But he didn't know how sensitive the material inside was, and any rough handling could cause it to go off early.
So he traced the wires, carefully, eyeing what hooked up to what. All the while, he heard the screams and howls of Grimm further down the tunnel and the clash of battle just up ahead. He eyed a few wires screwed into the side of the main fuse, wires which may be the main signal—
Then the car below him jolted and shuddered. It had been detached as well. The bomb itself let out a high-pitched whine.
Alright. Fuck it.
He held his breath, grabbed the wires, closed his eyes and tugged.
The fact that he wasn't immediately obliterated in an immense explosion, well, it made him quite relieved. Not only that, but the bomb's whine immediately ceased.
But he was hardly in the clear. He immediately pounced up and dashed as fast as he could, feet pounding hard against the steel roof. The car was already a few feet away from the rest of the train, but by the time he reached the edge, he kicked off and jumped and—
Just barely landed on the other side, stumbling forward and continuing his momentum. Looking ahead, he saw his team had already smashed most of the faunus who'd charged ahead to meet them. He looked back at the departing car, covering his ears and squinting in case he'd failed.
But the car fell back and away into the darkness. Moments went by, longer than the last car had taken to explode.
He smiled.
"I did it!" he yelled. "I did it!"
"Awesome!" Nora screamed back. She did so as she swiped her hammer into the head of the last standing grunt, soundly knocking him out and probably giving him brain damage to boot.
Jaune wasted no time running to the next bomb on the car and ripping out the same two wires. Then when they jumped off of that car as well, it detached and trundled back into the tunnel, simply disappearing into the dark. No new explosion.
"Good stuff," Qrow said. He placed one boot on the back of an unconscious grunt and looked further down the train, to where more enemies were already clambering on top. "You three twerps go down below, make a distraction. Then Jaune and I can stay up here and try to defuse the bombs."
"Sounds good."
"Will do."
"We'll bash 'em!"
Pyrrha swiped sword and cut an 'x' into the roof of the train car. Then she extended her hand, which was quickly wreathed in the shadow of her polarity. The roof was peeled back, opening up a hole into the train.
"Good luck," Jaune said, "and give 'em hell."
His teammates jumped down into the train, weapons brandished and prepared to take down any of these moronic terrorists who crossed their path.
"Alright," Qrow said. He looked down the length of the train, at the approaching squad of White Fang grunts. "No more mister nice huntsman."
Jaune grunted and drew the Mysterious Magnum. Qrow's plan made sense strategically, but now he realized it would allow the team to fight in their two different styles without clashing with one another. He and Qrow wouldn't have to hold back, and the others wouldn't be distracted or disturbed by whatever they did.
Breathe deep. Hold. Release.
He focused closely, even though the wind whipped around him and the train shook beneath him. He steadied his aim. And he fired.
The heavy magnum rounds tore through them. Qrow fired from his sword as well. Combined, they ripped apart the White Fang who had guns, their blood and guts splattering across the train car as bullets meant for Grimm tore them apart with ease.
Jaune holstered his pistol and rushed forward to meet them head on. He drew Crocea Mors and pulled back on the trigger. His cruel sword screamed as he revved it, its little teeth rattling and running in a blur. The sword itself had a sturdy steel frame, but the chain and teeth were something special: duraframe. A material perfected by the Enclave back on earth for only advanced power armor and energy weapons, forged in the fire of a radioactive engine and blasted with enough chemicals to make sure it didn't give anybody cancer afterwards.
Duraframe was a dark, vicious black; it matched in hue the skin or scale of any Grimm.
But now, Jaune didn't use it against Grimm. He used it against people, and he ripped them apart.
The first man who charged him, he knocked his sword away with a single strong swing, overpowering his facile, aura-less strength easily. Then he slid Crocea Mors down against his hand.
The man screamed and drooped his weapon as the chainsword tore off a few of his fingers. He stopped screaming when Jaune stepped forward and brought Crocea Mors up into his throat.
Blood sprayed back and drenched the Lone Wanderer's face. He had to screw his eyes shut and press his lips closed. But it was too late. He tasted iron on the tip of his tongue, and his eyes became bleary with the foreign liquid.
His stab had torn the man's neck open to the point of near beheading, and the mauled corpse collapsed to the ground before him. Meanwhile, Jaune spat out the blood and idly noted he'd have to deal with getting a mask or goggles or something. That's what he'd used back in the wasteland, and getting it all in his face and eyes like this was simply inconvenient.
For now, he scowled at the next few idiots who faced him. They stepped back hesitantly, clearly shaken by the horrific display of their comrade. But besides being idiots, they must also have been true zealots, the only kind of people who'd actually be willing to hop onto a train that was going to ram into the middle of Vale, then themselves be in the middle of a massacre of Grimm.
They stood their ground—somewhat bravely, somewhat stupidly—as he charged them.
He swung at one, bashing aside their guard with his inhuman strength. He pivoted and swung back, striking them in the face with Crocea Moras. The chainsword ripped through their head without really stopping, cutting as much as it was bludgeoning. A spray of flesh, brain and chewed bone flew out onto the other grunts, who suddenly became less brave.
It was too late for them.
He charged forward and, with a single horizontal slash, gutted the nearest grunt. He pushed them aside and stabbed Crocea Mors into the next unfortunate girl close to him, tearing through her sternum and spraying blood and shreddy bone everywhere as he drove the revving chainsaw straight through her chest and out her back. Her body collapsed, already dead, and he had to jerk his sword up out of her, sawing through more flesh as he did so.
He wiped the blood from his eyes and affirmed his need for some goggles or glasses or something. He'd have to go on a shopping trip when this was done… maybe he could go with Ruby? Get something to eat? Make a date of it?
He slapped away his last foe's cleaver and brought Crocea Mors down in a vicious arc, biting into the shoulder of his next enemy. Then he grabbed the hilt with both hands and pushed down. The revving duraframe chain and his great strength resulted in him tearing down through the woman's collarbone, diagonally through her ribs and then out above her hip. She'd been sawed in half.
And yeah, a date like that would be a good idea.
The Lone Wanderer looked up and snarled at the remaining terrorists, about a dozen or so that had just run up. The trash kept coming
He knelt and defused the bomb for this car, then headed for the next.
He charged at the next enemy and, with a single swipe, cut through their hands. They screamed, but Jaune closed his eyes as he brought Crocea Mors up into their chin and kept it going—sawing their face in half.
He opened his eyes again and blinked a few times to clear up his vision. The body collapsed before him. There were more grunts ahead, of course, though none of them bothered to charge in. Some even looked over their shoulders, as if daring to run away.
That's when Qrow came up beside him, some blood on his clothes and the blade of his scythe. "You go right, I go left?" he asked.
Jaune nodded. "Sounds good to me."
Without another word, they charged. These last few terrorists must have been pretty brave, stupid or brainwashed (or some mix thereof) to stand their ground as a man covered in blood with a chainsaw attacked them, side by side with a man wielding a huge scythe.
They didn't last long.
Jaune slashed left, right and center. They didn't stand a chance. He ripped them apart, spilling out blood, shards of bone and chunks of flesh and skin. Qrow was relatively cleaner, swinging his scythe in precise strikes that struck at the enemies' arteries and crucial weaknesses. With a single swing, he beheaded two terrorists at once. With a single swing, Jaune smashed through one terrorists head, then continued the momentum and lodged Crocea Mors into the neck of the one just beside him.
A few minutes, and the bloodbath was complete.
But things weren't over yet.
Jaune knelt down and tugged out the wires for the bomb on that car, but he looked up when Qrow swore. What he saw made him swear too.
Two of the prototype Atlas mechs jumped up onto the train car. They were smaller than the monster that RWBY had fought on the freeway, but they still stood twice as tall as Jaune, and their bulky mechanical arms promised bone-crushing pain.
"I'll go left."
"I'll go right."
They advanced, and the mechs did the same. Jaune sheathed Crocea Mors and pulled out the Magnum, quickly slipping in more bullets as the great mech neared.
Breathe deep. Hold. Release.
He slammed the revolver's cylinder back into place just in time to drop to the ground, sliding under a great swing by the mech's arm. He rolled between its legs, narrowly dodging a few stomps that dented the steel train car beneath them with huge pounds, sounding like a car crash.
Then he hopped up onto one leg of the mech and pressed the revolver against the back of its knee joint. He fired.
Point blank, he pumped monstrous bullet after bullet into the unarmored chink of the mech's armor. The bullets ripped into its leg with the quick shrieks of tearing metal, and the joint immediately flared out sparks and small arcs of fried electricity as wires in the joint were annihilated—
Then one arm swept down and bashed him in the side.
He'd kept his aura on guard, but nevertheless, the momentum behind that metal titan's strike nearly fractured his ribs and definitely knocked the air out of him. He let go and flew off of the mech, tumbling to the ground.
Jaune fought through the pain and lack of oxygen to sit up, and then he smiled. The mech tried to lumber after him, but the moment it took a step with the leg he'd attacked, its knee buckled, and the whole robot tottered for a precarious moment like an amateur tight-rope performer, before it fell face forward with a heavy crash.
Jaune allowed himself a few deep breaths to recover from the nasty punch, before he hauled himself to his feet and ran forward. He holstered his pistol and drew Crocea Mors.
The mech placed its arms against the ground and tried to push itself up, leaving its arms busy; and it the pilot was too slow to react as Jaune launched himself toward it, revving the chainsword as he did so.
He swung and smashed Crocea Mors's screaming edge against a hinge to the cockpit. He kept the sword pressed against the armor, and the hungry duraframe teeth quickly sawed through the comparatively meek steel.
He ducked back just in time to avoid a desperate swipe by the mech, but then jumped right back in, hooked a hand into the rent torn by Crocea Mors and pulled.
His superhuman muscles strained as he focused his aura on the task and hauled back the cockpit with all his might. Shortly, the it gave. With a crack, the metal he'd sawed split and broke, leaving the pilot exposed.
"Oh gods please!" The pilot held up his hands in immediate surrender. "I don't—"
Jaune revved Crocea Mors and plunged the chainsword right into the cockpit. Its tip collided with the top of the man's skull and split his head open like an overripe tomato.
He stepped back, now covered in even more blood. All-in-all, he was quite drenched, and the outfit that had earlier won Ruby's approval was now thoroughly ruined.
He looked over and saw Qrow finish off his own mech. He'd apparently cut off portions of each arm, leaving him clear to jump right on top of it, transforming his scythe back into a sword and then stabbing right down into the cockpit. He hopped off the mech as it fell backward and tumbled off the train, crashing with horrendously loud and ear-piercing squeals and crushes as metal and some more… organic material was ripped apart by the track and wheels below.
"Alright," Qrow said. "Let's hope they don't have any more."
"Don't jinx us," Jaune said as he knelt and defused that car's bomb.
Two more mechs jumped up onto the train.
"Welp." Jaune sighed, then brandished Crocea Mors before him. He'd blown the remaining ammo for the magnum on the last robot, so—
Both mechs stopped advancing. They shuddered. They tried to step forward, but each swayed and jolted back and forth as if they were being tugged around, as if they were drunk sailors on the deck.
After a second, Jaune realized they were covered in an odd shadow.
Each wobbled and tripped toward either side of the train, struggling to stay on their feet. They stumbled to the sides and each fell over, tumbling off of the train and onto the tracks below, doomed to destruction as they rolled and crashed down the tunnel.
"Hello!" Pyrrha called, poking her head up above the end of car.
"Yeah!" Jaune laughed and ran forward. "That's my partner!"
Pyrrha smiled as he jumped off the train's roof and onto the flat-bed car she stood on. It was here that the few mechs had been stored. Now they were all trash left behind.
"Nice save," Jaune said, giving her a high-five.
"Of course," Pyrrha said. Her smile wavered however, when she looked down at her hand.
"Baddies are gone and out," Nora proudly proclaimed, walking out of the train car with Ren closely following. "There were a bunch, but now they're taking a lot of nice naps."
Qrow hopped down, and now all five were reunited.
"Jaune," Pyrrha said. When he looked over, he saw a distraught and somewhat afraid look on her face. She looked at her hand, then at him—
Jaune realized she'd noticed he was covered in blood. He'd smeared some on her fingers.
"You're—"
"Things got rough," the Lone Wanderer said, cutting her off. "It happens."
"Gods, Jaune you…
" Nora trailed off now as well, not wanting to bring up his grizzly appearance.
Qrow had some blood on him as well, but not nearly as much as one gets when using a chainsaw to eviscerate the enemy at close range.
Something cut through the awkwardness: a heavy, metallic clank. The hinge connecting the train car to the flatbed unlatched, and the last car lost momentum as its wheels slowed, and it drifted back down the tunnel.
"I defused it all," Jaune reported, happy to change the topic.
"The White Fang we left behind—"
"Made their choice," the Wanderer said, cutting Pyrrha off again. His voice was sharp and left no tolerance for pity.
"Alright, alright," Qrow interjected. He stepped in between Jaune and the others. "We need to focus on the mission: get to the front of the train and stop this."
"What about all the Grimm behind us?" Ren asked.
"Subways always have side exits and—oh shit!"
Jaune swore at the last moment, for he'd seen out the corner of his eye the door open from the train car on the other side of the flatbeds. Out came a terrorist with an rpg. He hefted the rocket launcher on one shoulder and fired.
They all ducked, but the rocket passed well above them. Instead, it streaked down further into the tunnel, where it collided with the train car that had just detached.
Jaune had just enough time to realize this and cover his ears before another titanic explosion tore open and shook the entire tunnel, forcing it bright as day for a moment as its flash of power erupted, then rolled off with a blast of thunder and cracking, collapsing stone.
"Damn it!" Qrow yelled. He grit his teeth and drew his sword, staring down the terrorist. "Won't do you any good, pal. We've defused enough bombs that not nearly as many Grimm as you want will actually make it into the city!"
"Maybe," the terrorist said. He dropped the spent launcher, then reached behind his back. "But the fear will still thrive." He swung out and brandished an immense chainsaw.
"Indeed," said a voice behind him, one which JNPR immediately recognized. A deep voice warped through a gas mask. "You degenerates won't stop us this time," Art said, coming up beside the terrorist with his sledgehammer in hand.
"We'll see about that," Pyrrha said, wearing a defiant scowl. She reached out both hands, and the weapons of their foes were immediately wreathed in her polarity's shadow. She swiped her arms away, and both chainsaw and hammer were immediately wrenched out of their enemies' hands, thrown off the train altogether.
Art and the terrorist looked shocked.
Qrow laughed. "Good going kid. You three take care of them, and me and Jaune'll stop this train."
"Scum!" Art yelled, brandishing his fists. "If you think we're going to be easy—"
He ducked as Pyrrha hurled her shield at him. He dodged it on the first past, but her polarity commanded it come right back. It struck him in the back of the head, nearly knocking him over, before it flew back to her hand.
"You two get going," she said.
Qrow and Jaune didn't wait a moment longer, rushing ahead past the two as Nora, Ren and Pyrrha engaged them. As they dashed into the next train car, Jaune glanced back. He saw Art kick Pyrrha's shield with enough force that she stumbled back, allowing him to catch Magnhild by the hilt, stopping a swing from Nora, and he redirected her momentum to throw her aside.
Even unarmed, he and the terrorist would be able to hold off the rest of JNPR for a little while.
Jaune growled. Best make this quick then.
The door closed behind them, leaving him and Qrow in a largely empty car. It must have been packed with the grunts they'd now dispatched.
"Alright," Qrow said, "stay careful."
Jaune nodded and jogged ahead, finger on Crocea Mors's trigger.
The whole train car hitched; something must have been wrong with the track, for the train jolted for just a moment. This was enough to make an unused pipe leaning against the wall shudder. It wobbled for a moment, then fell forward. It swung down through empty space.
But then it hit something.
It smacked right on top of apparently empty air, flashing as if it had contacted with aura.
What the…?
While Jaune stopped, confused, Qrow rushed ahead and cut his sword through the air.
It hit against something solid, something invisible.
Jaune's eyes widened as light flashed and reality itself seemed to crack. Fractures formed in the air, then fell apart and fizzled away like pieces of evaporating glass. This revealed a new figure, a short girl colored pink, brown and vanilla. She held aloft a parasol, which was apparently strong enough to block the strike from Qrow.
"Heh, tough luck," Qrow said to her, grinning cockily.
She scowled, then hopped away and patted her head where the pipe had unexpectedly smacked her. She tutted, then her scowl turned into a smile as she twirled the parasol and brandished it.
Jaune wondered what kind of double-weapon that umbrella was. A bazooka? Another chainsaw? A flamethrower? Who the hell knew; all he could do was raise Crocea Mors in anticipation.
"Steve, get going," Qrow told him. "This one's bad news, but I'll put her down. You stop the train."
Jaune nodded and rushed past. The girl—who he knew to be the assassin, Neopolitan—stepped aside and let him go. He backed off for a moment, hesitant at such a withdrawl. She only glanced his way and smirked.
She didn't seem concerned by letting him by. Did she not think he'd be able to succeed against whatever was up ahead?
He didn't think anymore, as Qrow rushed forward to engage her. She immediately flipped up through the air, evading his strike, as agile and acrobatic as a flea.
Jaune turned away from the battle and ran out of the train, into the next. He trusted Qrow to take care of her, and he trusted himself to take care of whatever trash was up ahead…
Unless there was another gas mask. Orion had mentioned two, and if the second one was as skilled as Art… and they still hadn't run into Torchwick, had they?
Damn it.
He considered turning back to regroup with the others… but he could at least tie down the people up ahead, maybe rush the control panel, damage it and then run away? Or maybe the new gas mask would be a pushover? The rest of JNPR would surely be able to take those to unarmed…
No time to be hesitant.
He pressed forward, running through another empty train car, then emerging into a new one, dimly lit and vacant.
Then he ducked as a cane swiped at his head from the side.
Alright, not so vacant.
He dropped to the ground and rolled away, getting clear of the new attacker who'd been waiting beside the door. He hopped back up to his feet and snarled.
"Well if it isn't that psychopathic Vacuan rat again," said Roman Torchwick. He twirled his cane in his hand and smirked. "We meet yet—"
The Lone Wanderer charged him, not waiting for the smarmy bastard's annoying voice to finish that sentence. The thief fell back to avoid the flurry of slashes.
Last time they'd met, Jaune had been recovering from being knocked out, and he hadn't had as much training. Now, he was still sleep-deprived, but his aura was still in the green (though the mech had taken a good chunk) and he was a deadlier fighter than he'd ever been.
The Wanderer bared his teeth and attacked. This guy was no different than all the other slimy low-lives back on Earth, and he'd rip him to shreds just like he had all of them.
He revved Crocea Mors to its full scream and slashed at Torchwick ceaselessly. The thief, on his part, managed to deflect every strike Jaune threw at him, but he was barely able to do that much. He kept pace with the onslaught, steadily forced to step backwards as Jaune gained momentum.
He wasn't able to break Torchwick's defense, but the man's cocky grin quickly slipped as the barrage was laid into him.
Torchwick struck out at Crocea Mors with the back end of his cane's hook, and the curve angled away the chainsword, allowing him to sidestep Jaune and get around him. He twirled Melodic Cudgel then and cracked it hard into his cheek.
The Lone Wanderer's head snapped to the side—then immediately turned back, a mean snarl on his face.
He ducked down and hurled his shoulder into Torchwick's chest, driving through and smashing the thief into the wall of the train so hard that the steel behind him dented and warped. Torchwick gasped for air and his hat fell off onto the floor.
Jaune pulled back, face stinging from the hearty strike, even through his aura. He pulled Crocea Mors up in front of him and jammed it towards the thief, who was barely able to pull up his cane in time to block it.
The Wanderer pressed the whirring duraframe chain against Melodic Cudgel, and immediately a harsh, high-pitched squeal of grinding metal filled the cabin as sparks flew between the two.
Jaune gripped one hand on Melodic Cudgel to keep the weapon in place as he angled Crocea Mors towards Torchwick's head.
The thief grit his teeth and kicked out. In this situation, back against the wall, it would be a game of footwork that decided who won. His face reddened from effort and anxiety, as a chainsaw whirred mere inches before his eyes. He kicked out his feet against Jaune's shins, stomped on his toes, tried to get the right footing to twist his hips and escape.
He spat in Jaune's eyes, but Jaune just spat right back.
Crocea Mors grinded against Melodic Cudgel, and wisps of smoke curled out from the point of contact.
Roman narrowed his eyes. He brought one leg up and kneed Jaune in the groin, only to hit a tough guard.
Please, as if he'd be stupid enough not to wear a cup—
But then Roman twisted his leg and locked it around Jaune's own, then pivoted his hips and threw them both over.
They tumbled to the floor and Roman rolled away, quickly springing up and catching his breath for a moment before Jaune threw himself back onto his feet and snarled.
Breathe deep. Hold. Release.
Jaune charged again and unleashed a flurry of attacks. Again, Torchwick managed to keep pace and deflect them. Melodic Cudgel was covered in scrapes and scratched by the duraframe, which proved its mettle and bit at everything it touched, trying its best to kill and destroy whatever it could.
Torchwick sidestepped him and managed to strike out with Melodic Cudgel fast enough to hit it lightly across Jaune's face, obscuring his vision. This gave him the chance to kick at the back of Jaune's legs, throwing him off-balance to let Torchwick get the upper hand. He grabbed cane his cane with both hands and brought down in rapid strikes strong enough to smash bricks, cracking Jaune's skull with it several time before he dodged away, feeling slightly dizzy after being treated like a human whack-a-mole.
He didn't let it faze him; instead, the Lone Wanderer snarled again and stabbed out at his enemy.
But then Torchwick caught him off guard. He stepped to the side and let Crocea Mors strike him in the chest, gasping as the steel flashed against his aura and tore at his clothes.
Jaune's eyes widened as he realized the plan.
Torchwick whipped his cane at Jaune wristed and pushed it aside, beating the chainsword away. Then he stepped into Jaune's guard and brought one knee up as he hooked his cane around Jaune's wrist and dragged Crocea Mors down.
He kneed the hilt of Crocea Mors as he hauled in Jaune's wrist. The opposite momentum and the precisions of the strike sent the chainsword flying out of Jaune's hand.
The thief grinned, his sacrificial gambit having paid off.
His eyes widened when the Wanderer leaned up and bit down to get a mouthful of orange hair in his teeth. He jerked his head back and painfully dragged Torchwick's head along with him, causing them both to stumble and fall in a grappling match.
So close now, Torchwick was actually at the disadvantage by being armed, since Melodic Cudgel was too long to be effectively used in such close quarters. He tried to push back, but Jaune savagely kept a mouthful of his hair and took the opportunity jam short punches into Torchwwick's ribs.
They were stuck, a confusing mess on the ground, until Torchwick let go of Melodic Cudgel just so he could get up one hand into the Wanderer's face and drive his thumb into his eye.
That finally managed to make him let go of his bite on the hair, allowing Torchwick to push back and sit up. Disoriented, he took just a second to catch his breath.
That second proved crucial, as Jaune launched out and grabbed Torchwick by the collar, then dragged him in for a powerful headbutt, cracking his forehead against Torchwick's nose.
The thief yelled out and tried to pull back, but this confusion let Jaune get his feet under him, and he stood up.
He carried Torchwick with him.
Still holding onto him by the collar, Jaune hauled the criminal into the air, then he twisted and slung him over his shoulder—
Then threw Torchwick back onto the ground, head-first. His skull cracked against the floor, and he crumpled on the ground.
Jaune darted for Crocea Mors, while Torchwick had just enough sense to groggily cradle his bruised head. He panicked at the sound of a revving chainsword.
Torchwick's adrenaline drove him back into action, and he dove for his cane and picked it up just in time to raise it over his head with both hands and block a downward swing from the Lone Wanderer.
But the Wanderer had a smile on his face.
Breathe deep. Hold. Release.
He exhaled as he brought the sword down, aiming for the exact spot on Melodic Cudgel where earlier he'd been sawing. There was a noticeable and not insignificant notch born into the cane from the duraframe chain's vicious teeth.
Crocea Mors hit the weak point dead on, and Melodic Cudgel buckled.
The cane bent inward, forming nearly a right angle as it collapsed before the superhuman strike. Roman's eyes widened, and he rolled back to disengage.
He sprung up and ran for the end of the train car, to the door marked: cabin.
He hammered his fist against it and yelled, "Hey Commander, could use some help!"
That was all he managed to say before Jaune was upon him again.
Jaune swung hard, and Torchwick tried to swipe his cane to deflect it like he had before. But the odd angle that the cane was bent at made that impossible, instead throwing Roman himself off balance. Jaune brought the chainsword down on the man's hands, forcing him to cry out and drop his weapon.
Game's over now, asshole.
He brought the sword back up to Torchwick's face, but he narrowly dodged back. He pressed with the initiative, however, and stepped into his guard. As he did so, Jaune brought back one hand, raising it into a fist. He pivoted on his hips and thrashed his knuckles into Torchwick's cheek with all the strength he could muster.
The thief cried out and spun away, sprawling to the floor.
The Lone Wanderer prepared for the kill.
He swung Crocea Mors across and hit Torchwick in the face just as the man looked up at him. The angry sword collided with his aura and partially tore through it, biting into the man's skin with several teeth scratching his face. The blunt force of the hit flung him back to the cabin door, which he hit and then collapsed to the floor, aura close to spent.
Jaune brought his sword back and revved it, ready to charge in again—
The door behind Torchwick slid open, and Jaune stopped as a new enemy entered the fray.
There stood a man in a gas mask. Clad in all black, the mysterious figure loomed tall and dark in the doorframe. Unmoving, he stared at Jaune with silent intensity.
"Oh. It's you."
The words, warped by the mask, sounded almost inhuman.
"Commander," Torchwick said. He panted and wiped some blood from his mouth. "This kid's a real pain."
"I know." He pointed back to the cabin. "Go help Perry with the controls."
Torchwick ducked his head and followed the order, dashing into the control room as the commander advance. The door shut, and then they were alone.
The Lone Wanderer eyed the Commander carefully, calculating. He brandished Crocea Mors.
He'd probably dropped to the upper yellow after taking a few brutal hits by Torchwick. Hopefully, this guy wasn't as bad as Art.
"This was inevitable," said the Commander. He brought one hand to the hilt of his sword.
Something about that voice, even if he didn't quite recognize it, sent a chill into Jaune. He felt goosebumps on the back of his neck. Something subconscious had been alerted.
"We're both creatures of war," said the Commander. "And we always fight for different sides. This was bound to happen sooner rather than later."
Jaune didn't respond. He kept his finger carefully over his chainsword's trigger, ready to rev. Something about what his opponent said unnerved him, even if he didn't quite understand it.
The Commander drew his sword. Coming out the scabbard, it hissed. A long, thin straight sword with one side sharp as a razor.
The blade was a dark, vicious black; it matched in hue the skin or scale of any Grimm.
Jaune stared at it.
That looks like—
The Commander flicked a switch at the hilt. A crimson light flashed at the sword's cross-guard; then a cruel line of blood-red fire swept up along the blade, drenching the dim cabin in a brutal glow.
Jaune's eyes widened. His breathing stopped. Suddenly, a horrendous and immense weight came in all around him, as if he was crushed in a giant fist, and now it squeezed and squeezed and squeezed—
Crocea Mors's chains rattled, for his hands shook.
No. Please god no.
The Commander reached his free hand up to his mask. He pulled free a few clasps, then tugged off his helmet.
A head of pure blonde hair. Two bright blue eyes. A handsome, slim face. A big, friendly smile.
"I've been waiting for this day," said Bishop Beauvais.
And I've been waiting to write this moment for so long. Seriously, I've had that line figured out almost since I started writing this fic.
And man, I really hope that people actually like Bishop's presence. Like, he's the villain and you're supposed to hate him, but I hope readers hate him for the right reasons, the way you're supposed to hate a good villain. I dunno, but people don't always like oc's. I hope I haven't built him up all this time only for people to just not care about him or think he's a dumb character and not like him because of that. I'm personally pretty proud of how I've built him up. There are many reasons for why I included Bishop, which I'll get into next chapter.
Tune in next time, when we see the world through the eyes of a monster.