Chapter Five: …Lest Ye Become a Monster
A stunned silence envelops the captive group, none of them having expected such a revelation.
"A faunus…. Why would a faunus sell his own kind to the SDC? What did we ever do to you?" Ghira asks, pleading for an explanation.
The lizard faunus glares as if personally offended by the question. "You? You didn't do anything, that's the problem." His breathing becomes shallow, digging up emotions long kept buried. "Where was the White Fang when I needed you, when we needed you?"
"I don't understand… "
"No… I suppose you wouldn't, gallivanting around like half-assed crusaders, trying to make peace with those damned humans that hunt our kind for sport, playing their games and pretending like you've done anything for our people!" His voice rises to meet his quickly heating emotions.
The human bandits standing beside the faunus look upon their leader strangely, having never seen this level of emotion from him. Their eyes gaze upon him in thought, absorbing this new information and shelving it in the confines of their minds. Perhaps it would come in handy…
The tall faunus notices their looks and steels himself, knowing he cannot show any weakness in front of his men. The consequences of risking all he has fought for being far too high. He brings the white mask back to his face.
"What- "
"Enough. We are done talking." He pulls the crimson blade from his hip and points it at the closest bandit. "You. Stop your gawking and load the prisoners onto the transport, before I cut out your eyes."
The shorter man panics at the sight and quickly hurries to follow the order, knowing the threat to not be an idle one. It wouldn't be the first time the boss has done such a thing.
Adam and the rest of the captives are pulled roughly to their feet, some struggle as they are forced to stand. These are made examples of; the butts of rifles cracking painfully against their skulls, not hard enough to kill, but enough to scare the group into a timid obedience. Like their leader, they've learned to rule through fear, it was a lesson destined to be shared further.
As the group is led away to the vehicle Adam looks toward the bandit leader, even through the man's mask Adam can tell their eyes have met, it would be impossible not to feel the dreadful gravity formed between the two's locked gazes. No words are spoken; they are not needed. Both intimately understand a shared promise, one of cold retribution. The feeling freezes Adam's veins like ice, a stark contrast to the boiling vengeance usually hidden beneath his skin. There is no hatred in Adam's heart for the man standing before him, the familiarity in his previous outrage to his own beliefs cemented that.
Regardless, he would do whatever it takes to save his comrades and villagers.
Seemingly sensing the boy's resolve, the masked man's mouth breaks into a small, challenging grin.
Whatever it takes…
Hours later…
The night air is cold and brisk, cutting cruelly through their clothes and rattling their bones. The metal chains carry a dull ache through their wrists. Despite the façade of strength that Adam is desperate to hold onto, for the sake of his comrades, he can't help but shiver. Beside him, however, Sienna stands strong, her form resembling that of a grand temple, still and stoic. The sight warms his spirit, if only slightly. It'll have to be enough to get him through the long night.
The aggravating sound of rapturous laughter echoes throughout the encampment.
A long night indeed…
The bandits had taken them to their camp, there they were greeted with the sight of the villagers they had been desperate to rescue, beaten and broken by presumably hours of torturous treatment by their jailors.
The cracking of a whip cuts painfully through Adam's thoughts. A dull cry of pain follows closely after.
No, not jailors.
The bandits cheer gleefully as an older faunus man falls to the ground; a bloody red streak left upon his back from their brutality.
Slavers.
The sight makes Adam snarl, seeing his people in chains, suffering this abuse by the hands of humans, was enough to make his blood boil.
The whip cracks yet again, the cheers and cruel laughter follow.
Adam's teeth grind together like nails on chalkboard.
The haunted gazes of many of his comrades trail downwards, unable to view the spectacle any longer.
Adam, however, did not; could not look away. His eyes remain locked upon the faces of their tormenters, taking in every minutia and locking it in the confines of his mind for future reference. Hoping that his time would come to make good use of the information.
No one dares utter a word as the elder faunus picks himself up and continues whatever menial task the slavers ordered of him.
It isn't until the humans turn their attention elsewhere that Sienna utters the first words she's spoken in hours.
"Adam," she whispers. His attention turns to her immediately. "I have a plan."
"You do?"
She smiles a cocksure grin that looks frighteningly out of place in this setting. Adam isn't sure if he's relieved at the news.
Ghira watches on, the same level of wariness settling in his features, before replying in Adam's place. "Sienna, I hope you're not planning anything crazy; we're already in hot water as it is," he whispers.
"And whose fault is that?"
The reminder washes over him like ice cold water. He turns his gaze away.
"I just didn't want anyone getting hurt."
She scoffs. "Tell that to the man with bloody gashes across his back"
Ghira can't seem to formulate a response, he sighs a mixture of guilt and trepidation. "Fine, let's hear what you have to say."
She nods her head in the direction of the tents lining the back wall of the bandit camp. "The guards have been alternating shifts at the top of every hour and it doesn't take much detective work to figure out what they do with their in-between time."
As she speaks, almost as if to purposely confirm her words, a group of bandits stumble out of the tents, drinks in hand and drunken laughter spilling from their lips with every awkward step.
"I can see what you mean, but how does that help us?"
"Soon they'll have to return to their shift at our stables, drunken buffoonery and all. That'll be our time to strike, we take them out, grab their weapons and we fight."
Ghira's eyes take a disappointed sheen, "Sienna, there's only ever a few of them over here at a time, two or three at most, what could we possibly do with three weapons against an entire camp?"
"Fight, damn it! We fight off every single one of these bastards until our last breath if we have to!"
Sienna's voice rises almost dangerously, faunus previously unaware of the conversation turn their attention to the scene. Ghira's eyes shoot towards the guards currently posted near them, thankfully they seem too distracted to have heard the outburst. Their attention clearly focused on a drunken dance being performed by an intoxicated bandit near the opposing tents. They chuckle amongst themselves and Ghira allows himself to sigh in relief. His focus returns to Sienna and he brings his voice down to a whisper.
"Sienna quiet down before they hear you," he warns her, almost pleading. She only growls in response before he continues. "Look, with you, Adam, and I, we might have had a chance under the right circumstances but be reasonable. The three of us are not only chained at the wrists, but we're also surrounded by exhausted people who are unable to defend themselves if a fight breaks out, we won't have the means to defend them and ourselves at the same time against an entire camp of armed raiders."
Ghira takes a moment to look at the crowd of faunus encircling them, all of them clearly worked to the bone and exhausted. His eyes sharpen. "I won't abandon my people to the fate that'll accompany them if we follow along with your foolhardy plan."
"You'd rather them enslaved?" Sienna responds hatefully.
"I'd rather we be patient and look for the right opportunity to act."
"Cowardice, the longer we wait the worse our odds of escape get. Sometimes sacrifices must be made, Ghira, can't you see that? What's a few lives lost if we have the chance to save many?"
"Even one loss is too many. I won't sully my hands with their blood, not for anything."
The crowded group of onlooking faunus watch the conversation with trepidation, unwilling to place themselves between the battle of will and unsure of what side, which path, was the correct choice. The members of the White Fang amongst them would follow their leader to the very end, although who exactly was their leader was becoming less clear every day. The exhausted villagers, meanwhile, having already taken their fair share of beatings by the bandits, were certainly anxious to put themselves in harms away again, though they knew what total submission would entail.
Memories of the old man being whipped just moments before replay in their minds.
They weren't quite ready to accept that terrible fate.
The scene whispers hauntingly in Adam's mind as well, twisting and malforming itself to fit an all too familiar mold.
"I'm warning you freak, back off or I'll grill this animal's face."
His remaining eye clenches shut at the traumatic memory, tears forming as his scar burns in a phantom pain.
He'd sooner die then live another moment with his fate in another's hands.
Another human's hands. A low growl escapes his throat, before choking back into an almost trembling whimper.
"I'm in," he whispers.
Sienna grins. "I knew I could count on you, Adam. You have the heart to do what's necessary, same as I."
"What?" Ghira mutters in disbelief. "How can you side with her? You know this isn't right."
Adam remains stiff as a board, hands silently trembling.
"I won't let them take me again…"
The quiet fear in his voice drives a stake through Ghira's heart, further words of protest crumble like ash atop his tongue. He's never known Adam to be the fearful type, but as the brave mask of stoicism melts from his features and trembling skin lies just beneath it, a temple of fear buried under desert sands, he feels as though that perhaps this is Adam's truest self.
A frightened boy whose world had failed him.
"Not again… please." Adam mutters out, silent tears streaking down his cheek.
Ghira can only watch, no words of comfort come to mind, and the moment passes before he knows it.
"Don't worry, Adam. I'd sooner die than let that happen to you," Sienna states confidently, with a surefire grin that seems to always come naturally.
Adam nods, wiping his cheek.
A bond between the two is clearly shared, one that Ghira cannot let himself be comfortable with.
Sienna bumps shoulders with the young boy, sharing her warmth. Adam grins for the first time in hours.
Still the words do not come to Ghira, his mouth dries, and he tightens his fists.
"Okay, how do we do this, Sienna?" Adam asks, his voice reinforcing to almost bravery.
"Just follow my lead," she replies. Just before they can act however, fate decides to interrupt, with the lone voice of their primary captor cutting through their bravado.
"Good to see my furry friends are enjoying themselves. I hope the festivities have been just as fun for you all as they have for me." The tone of voice betrays his jovial words, the previous pitch all but abandoned in favor of a deeper rumble. His white mask that covers his eyes helps hide his expression, though the firm line of his mouth and clearly tightened jaw show more than enough.
The slavers behind him look on in amusement, chuckling amongst themselves, before a tightened grip on the sheath of their leader's weapon, silences them completely.
He looks out among the gathered faunus, his prisoners, inspecting them, before halting his gaze upon Adam.
Their eyes lock beneath his mask in the same understanding from hours before. The man grins, an unsightly act that doesn't quite suit his face. "Bring the boy to me, I'd like to share a few words with him." The guards behind him are quick to act, moving through the crowd to roughly grab Adam and easily dragging the exhausted boy towards their leader despite his struggles. His movements stop when he reaches the tall man, knowing a fight against him to be futile. Adam can feel, almost instinctively, how powerful the man is, to be able to dominate and control a group of bandits this size, he would have to be.
Adam spares a quick glance to the sword at the man's hip, it's form still hidden beneath its shoddy wooden sheath. Even without drawing the mysterious blade it has the power to control the man's forces, the moment with the guards earlier not having escaped Adam's notice. He would prefer to not have to face such a weapon, although with the plan already spiraling out of control, it seems evermore likely to come to fruition.
Still…
He can't help but feel somehow drawn to it.
The man, noticing where the boy's eyes have wandered, lets out an amused chuckle. He looks back towards the guards. "Stay at your station, I'll be having a conversation with this one privately in my tent."
Adam looks confused, before steeling his heart and sending a quick nod to Sienna. She looks mildly concerned, something out of her usual character, and nods back. A silent message to continue the plan, without him. Ghira, however, doesn't plan to sit so idle. "Let him go!" he bellows out, angrily. His demand is met with a tightening grip on the sword handle yet again.
"Speak to me like that again, Ghira, and I'll be having words of a different sort with your protégé here."
The threat does its job and Ghira remains quiet, Sienna looks amused.
Adam is quickly pulled along, his arm in a tough grip by the taller faunus.
His heart full of trepidation.
The tent is spacious, almost luxurious even, compared to the rest of the camp that Adam had seen. Cloth of velvet and other fine materials drape the walls, oriental rugs litter the floor space, and antique lanterns envelop the room in a warm glow. Not at all what he had been expecting.
"Not what you were expecting?" the man behind him says, as if reading his thoughts.
"No… can't say that it is."
The tall man only hums in response before moving further into the tent. He stops just as he reaches a small Mistralean floor table, one designed for recreational tea if the small pot and cups atop its surface are any indication, and for the first time tonight, loosens his grip on the hilt of his sword.
He exhales in what sounds like relief as he removes his white mask, then commands, "Come, sit."
Adam takes only a moment to follow, finding himself comfortable on the floor pillows, yet confused on the lack of hostility. Was he not still a prisoner-soon to be-slave?
'What's his game?' he thinks to himself.
In a flash of a second, the grip on the man's sword tightens exponentially and is drawn from its scabbard. Adam jumps up in fearful surprise before taking a good look at the weapon.
The blade is blood red, with a metallic sheen that glows like embers against the warm light of the lanterns around them. It's mesmerizing to the young faunus, a work of art disguised as a tool of death.
"I noticed your attention focused on it earlier. Beautiful, isn't it?"
Adam can only nod in response, still standing back in caution.
The man holds the sword lightly with both hands, running his fingers across the metal, a soft look of fondness running across his now visible features. "Its name is Wilt, and it once belonged to my sister."
It takes only a moment longer for Adam to recognize the present lack of danger, and move closer to the man and his sword, before retaking his seat at the table. His eyes never once leaving the blade, in caution as well as burning curiosity.
"Your… sister?" Adam asks when the words finally come to him.
"Yes, my older sister. She forged this blade years ago, as a means to protect herself, and to protect me." He runs his index finger down the sharpened edge of the blade, aura flashing lightly to protect his flesh from being cut. His face remains passive, the muscles of his cheeks lie still like stone. Though, it's hard for Adam to miss the sadness hidden behind his eyes. It's a look born through pain and of memory, and it's one that Adam has shared for many years.
"… what happened to her?" he asks, the words falling from his lips slowly, cautiously.
The man closes his eyes, wrinkles large enough to be seen even through his scales move gracefully with his cheeks yet look out of place on a man so young.
"You know… it's been a long time since I was asked that question, and far longer since I've been willing to answer it." The man opens his eyes, "You remind me of myself, kid. That look in your eyes, back at the village, it's one that I'm more than familiar with; the boiling rage hidden beneath calm waters."
Adam isn't shocked by the comparison, it's one he's sensed from the beginning.
"That's why I'm going to offer you a choice, something far more than I was granted. Your people, the White Fang, they offer no salvation for you, not for anyone. Leaving them to rot in chains with the SDC would be more than they deserve. You, however, are young, and already wiser."
The man moves towards the front of the tent, lifting the entrance flap enough to see outside.
"Look, what do you see?"
Adam moves to join him, curious, then peers outward. The drunken laughter of bandits is immediately noticeable, as well as the sight of their cruelty. The whipped old faunus from before has been dragged out of his place among the crowd of slaves. The bandits around him continue to laugh as he's pushed to the ground, his bruised and bleeding back on display for all to see. One of the men standing above him take special care to point with glee at the injuries, clear pride etched above his sick grin for causing them.
A growl escapes Adam's clenched teeth as he begins to move, before a hand on his shoulder holds him back.
"Humans…" the man continues, with no intention to intervene, "are born cruel, it is simply in their nature. You know this just as well as I do. They cannot be reasoned with; despite the pretty words the White Fang would have you believe."
"And what about you? You lead them, commanded them to enslave us, even now you stand idle as one of our own is beaten and humiliated! You're just as guilty!"
"Yes, I have blood on my hands, same as them," the man coolie replies to the outburst.
"Then why should I listen to anything you have to say!?" Adam yells, his voice rising as the boiling rage beneath his skin begins to make itself known yet again.
"Because this is the only way, damn it! Humans are animals who respond only to violence! They only understand violence!" He takes a moment, to calm himself, the mask of indifference momentarily broken. A face of rage and anguish hiding just beneath it. "If you can't reason with them, then you must speak their tongue through oppressive force. It's how I've survived this long."
Adam looks confused, picking up on the implication. "What? You mean the bandits?"
"Yes, bandits, raiders, slavers, whatever you want to call them. A few years ago the men outside this tent belonged to a tribe called the Dead Horses, a semi-individualistic group of petty outlaws and runaways. They committed raids, theft, and murder for years under the leadership of a human named Blanc Gallows."
"And what happened to him?"
The man lets a grim grin grow as he says, "He killed my sister, so I cut off his head at the foot of his throne."
Adam feels he should be horrified at the revelation, but in a similar circumstance he would have done the same. If it had been Blake…
Recognizing the boy's expression, the man asks, "You have someone like that don't you? Someone you'd fight and die for."
A slow, heavy nod is Adam's only response.
"My sister and I used to hear stories of the White Fang, how they were out there fighting the good fight, making a difference in the world," the man recalls, the quiet rage returning to his voice. "Yet, when the Dead Horses invaded our village, and my sister died to protect me, where were they?"
"I'm sorry that happened to you, but you can't expect us to be everywhere at once… "
"And if you had been? What then? Look outside again and tell me what the White Fang possibly could have done. You can't even protect yourselves."
Adam grits his teeth at the reminder, unable to argue.
"The White Fang are nothing but a fictitious dream. A false hope, and out in the real world… false hopes only get you killed," the man says, before putting his hand back on the boy's shoulder. "So again, I offer you a choice; live your life in chains with the rest of your 'comrades' as a martyr to a dream, or stand by my side, here; in the real world, lording over those who thought themselves your superiors."
Adam stares at the man, the scar under his bandage weighing even heavier upon his heart.
The offer is strangely enticing, and yet…
Blake.
The sudden sound of gunfire erupts outside, drawing the attention of the tall man, and providing the distraction Adam had been waiting for. With all the strength his aura enhanced body can muster, he punches the larger man in the gut and in a flash, fluently pulls the sword from the scabbard.
The man growls in response and wraps his hand around the blade, sharp edge and all. His aura flashes mildly as he kicks the boy away and reclaims his sister's weapon.
Adam, now realizing the true difference between their skill levels and the massive disadvantage it presents to him, immediately backpedals before turning and breaking into a run. The man sighs disappointingly, before stalking forward to make chase. He really had hoped the boy would come to his senses.
The fight outside is not nearly as grandiose or dramatically liberating as Adam had hoped, with still bodies draped across the forest floor, both human bandit and faunus prisoner, and the dreadful sound of muted screams blanketed by the explosive bark of continuous gunfire. He doesn't stop running, unable to even think clearly, until he spots Sienna's unmistakable visage amongst those in combat. She moves with a viscous ferocity, stolen handgun and combat knife held in both hands making short work of any human within sight.
Ghira, not far away from her, seems to have finally found his role in her scheme, with heavy fists and steel-like faunus claws threatening any who seek to harm the defenseless people behind him. His aura flashing purple as dust-bullets strike continuously against his mountainous form.
Adam turns on a heel to join Sienna in her fight, only to be met with the swinging crimson blade of his almost forgotten opponent. His training with Ghira is the only thing that prevents him from tanking a massive hit to his dwindling aura reserves, as he quickly side-steps and falls into a backwards roll to gain some much-needed distance. His opponent drops his focus from him for a moment as he witnesses the ongoing fight between the two factions.
"Guess the White Fang have a bit of fight in them after all… "he mutters, expression unreadable. His gaze shifts entirely to the unyielding leader of the opposing force and the crowd of prisoners shielded behind him. The heroic scene does nothing to warm his heart, instead leaving a bitter taste upon his tongue, and a hateful scorn to cross his face. His previous attention on the boy completely forgotten, the man makes his way towards Ghira, a rigidness to his steps along with clouded red vision.
Ghira noticing his approach, along with the threatening blade at his side, begins to panic, not out of fear for his own safety, but for the people behind him whom have little means of defense against such a sword. "Stay back!" he yells, claws at the ready.
Just as the man is about to reach the group, Sienna jumps in the way, she raises her handgun to fire, but the soft noise of a dull click is all she receives. The gun has run dry of ammunition it would seem. She grimaces momentarily before recovering and dropping the now useless weapon, instead bringing her combat knife at the ready, a reverse grip she's well versed with.
The man only smirks at her arrival, she's a newcomer he's not familiar with, and certainly not threatened by. With the twirl of his crimson blade, he brings it into a back left position, right foot planted forward to balance himself. It's a sword position Adam recognizes, one that he's been at the receiving end of during Ghira's training many times, but he's never seen it performed so eloquently. As he watches the sword rise into a forward swing towards the near-defenseless Sienna, he can't help but marvel at the swordsmanship, both in fear for Sienna's safety and wonderous awe in equal measure.
Sienna herself, however, can only gawk in surprise at the speed of her combatant, hastily bringing up her knife in hopes to somehow divert his swing.
It works, if only barely. Years of training is what saves her head from being removed entirely from her neck, as the edge of the knife scrapes against the much sharper steel of the crimson blade; the swing itself pushed upward and away from her vitals. However, it's a hollow victory, as Sienna herself is launched backwards onto the dirt and her only weapon launched into the sky.
For what's it worth, her recovery is quick as she's back on her feet in an instant, but unfortunately now she stands entirely defenseless. It takes less than a second for the man to again be within arm's reach of her, sword at the ready and prepared to strike the killing blow he was previously denied.
Only for Adam to catch the man in surprise with the full weight of his body in a waist-high tackle, compromising his footing and pushing both of them into the dirt. The red-haired boy, acting completely on instinct, launches a fury of aura-enhanced punches directly into the man's unguarded face before he can recover.
It doesn't last long, the man, finally breaking out of his shellshock, sends a sideways elbow to Adam's stomach, pushing him off his body with minimal effort.
And directly next to the fallen crimson sword, almost forgotten in their quick bare-knuckle brawl.
Adam, with the blood rushing to his head and his heart pounding in his chest, quickly grabs the sword and rolls backwards to gain some distance.
The man, as if mimicking the boy's action, does the same and flips into a standing position just as Sienna's long airborne knife falls directly into the palm of his raised hand.
His cocky smirk widening as Adam grimaces.
Sienna, almost entirely depleted of aura and exhausted from fighting, has little chance of victory as the man quickly grabs her and holds the knife to her throat. The contact of the blade with her skin causes the flash, then shattering of her orange aura.
The sound of combat and gunfire around them stops dead, as the hostage is secured. Faunus and humans both staring at the dramatic scene in anticipation. Ghira, still guarding the injured can only watch as the life of his longtime friend is in the hands of the maniac.
Adam, sword raised into a neutral middle position directly in front of him, snarls at the sight.
"So," the man begins, "it seems we are at an impasse. You have my sword, and I have your comrade."
"Let her go!" Adam shouts in retaliation.
The man only looks confused, before replying, "And why would I do that?"
"I'll kill you if you harm her."
Again, the man takes a deep look into the boy's eye, searching for his resolve. "You would, wouldn't you? I can see it in your eye, the fever, the rage. When you declined my offer earlier, I thought that maybe you didn't have the heart to do what it takes, and yet, here you are, standing against a man with a lust for blood running through your veins."
Sienna, listening intently to the man holding her hostage, chimes in. "He's not the only one. "
The man chuckles, amused. "Yes, I saw your little display with my men earlier, hard to believe the White Fang have someone of your caliber among their ranks. The blood on your hands is proof enough of your resolve, and yet…" His grip on her neck tightens, the edge of the blade coming ever closer to slicing her delicate flesh. "I don't recall giving you permission to speak."
She doesn't speak another word, a cold sweat dripping down her forehead.
The man looks back towards the boy, intent on finishing their conversation. "This one is certainly amusing, isn't she? I didn't expect one of your own to dirty their hands like this. Still, I can tell she's not the same as you or me, not in the way that matters."
"What are you talking about?" Adam replies.
"She kills for necessity, with reason. The trail of bodies left behind her are proof enough of that, too many injured among them, too many spared. Not all of them dead," the man says, his voice dripping like venomous ice, entirely certain of the words he's speaking to be true.
Adam shivers, the manic look in the man's eyes peering deeper into him than he's comfortable with, as if he's searching for his soul, or worse, as if he's already found it.
"You and I, we're different, we're broken. This world has taken us and shattered every piece that once made us whole. You feel it too, don't you?"
Adam suddenly finds himself unable to speak, the harsh denial of the man's words dying on his tongue before he can say them. His scar burns in painful memories.
Dark clouds depart from the sky and a soft moonlight envelops the scene in their absence.
"We've stared into the abyss, both of us."
"Stop…" Adam whispers.
"And when it looked back at us," the man continues, undeterred, and determined to make his point.
"Stop it…" he says again, his voice rising in anger.
"We blinked."
"SHUT UP!"
As Adam speaks the words of wrath and anguish, his soul cries out in a flash of aura and the crimson blade moves with it, as if for just a moment, they've become one and the same.
The swing leaves a trail of crimson passion in its wake, traversing the sky and cutting through the air. It moves like a bloodhound towards its intended target and strikes true.
Blood erupts as the man's aura is instantly drained and broken. The knife drops from his hand and Sienna cautiously backs away, unable to believe what she just witnessed.
The soft moonlight becomes a haunting crimson glow as it shares the sickening color of the boy's aura beneath it. The scene feels almost ethereal to those present, and it takes no longer than a few seconds for the bandits around them to drop their weapons.
Those seconds feel like an eternity for Adam, who stares blankly at the bleeding man, unable to process the event, and unable to loosen his grip on the suddenly heavy hilt in his hands. He slowly walks forward, almost stumbling, towards him, close enough to be within ear shot of the man's dying gasps and painful wheezing. The man's eyes never stray to the boy beside him, instead gazing upwards towards the blood red moon, as a single tear trails down his cheek.
"I'm coming home, Blush," he whispers, his final words before the last breath escapes his chest.
The heaviness of his hilt never lessens, as Adam is left standing with the crimson sword.
The Gotham skyline shines an ethereal glow beneath the shattered moon, a sea of dark clouds the only separating force between the endless array of manmade lights and the eternal radiance of the celestial body. Bruce Wayne, standing atop the front steps of his family's mansion, bears witness to this dichotomy in a newfound sense of appreciation.
And a newfound sense of duty.
Someday, he'll save this sea of lights from its own undoing, as his father once wished.
The quiet sound of footsteps behind him signal that it's time.
Someday… But not today.
He was not yet ready for the crusade that awaited him. It would take years of dedication and training to prepare, to have the skills and knowledge necessary to do what he knew needed to be done.
To become a signal, a beacon of hope, and of fear.
A dark specter of vengeance to any who seek to harm the innocent.
"Bruce, are you so sure about this?" The humble voice of his butler quietly asks, his heart unsure of the task assigned to him.
He knew he could not do so as Bruce Wayne: the faunus, centuries of prejudice against his kind and the example of his parents promising it so.
"There is no other way, Alfred. This is the mission, and I will not falter."
Instead, Bruce Wayne would fall…
A quiet, resigned sigh escapes the Butler's lips and the scraping sound of a match against matchbook intrudes upon his ears.
…so that something new could rise.
The match is thrown, and a new source of light fills the night sky.
Wayne Manor is set ablaze, and fate once again is forever changed.
"So falls the house of Wayne…" Alfred mutters.
A/N: Wow, yeah so, it's been a few months since my last update and I'm glad to finally have something ready to publish with my longest chapter yet. Sorry to keep you guys waiting, work has been hectic but I'm getting back into the swing of things, so next chapter shouldn't take as long. Hope you enjoyed and thanks for your continued reading!
