written in the stars
"It… off," Clover gasps as Qrow silently heaves, doubling over, retching from the pit of his stomach as the exertion from running halfway across Atlas takes its toll on his burning legs. The roar of the creature which has been haunting them, stabbing through buildings and into sidewalks with its wretched tail, finally dissipates, giving them at last a moment to breathe. As the final quivers of its resonant screech fade away, Clover seems to regain some sense. "I think… it took off, Qrow."
Qrow hums gently, stroking the clock face with his fingertips. It's that Grimm's presence, isn't it? That's what's messing with your system? Each time it goes away, you can speak again-
His theory is proved immediately correct as Clover begins, "C'mon, Songbird. We should go-o- ugh-"
His body reacts faster than his mind can. Qrow is sprinting forward just as the roar rips through the air once more, every fiber of his being screaming as a giant shadow passes overhead, circles, and hovers above him; Clover's gasps and stuttered screams must be engrained permanently into his memory forever. Small side streets and hideaways are abandoned promptly in favour of open spaces, for main avenues provide him far more room to run and dodge the attacks which are mercilessly destroying the city around him.
Finally, he finds himself at the base of the hill leading up to Atlas Academy. More a public affairs offices than a research institution, it is at the top of this hill, at the very top of the Academy, where he will find the office of James Ironwood- where he might finally find some answers.
There is a long, long way to go, however. First, he needs to make it up this hill, this jagged rise covered in buildings which will guide him to the base of the Academy. Once I'm inside, he thinks frantically, maybe that monster's effects will calm down, too.
Gods, he hopes so.
There is no more time to think beyond that, for the walls shatter and the world breaks every time he hesitates for even a moment. Every time he spares a breath, a moment, to look up into the sky, he can see the horrifying visage of a white mask lined with red, blood-like glowing veins staring back down at him- or, perhaps, the Harbinger is its target. There is no way to know for sure, nor is there a need to. He just needs to get away.
There are smaller Grimm who appear through rifts in the air around every corner, but he has long since given up on attacking every single monster who gets in his way- he simply needs to reach his goal as soon as possible.
He wishes he could groan in annoyance, breath heaving as he runs up another fire escape two steps at a time, when Clover mutters drunkenly, "Y'know what… what I hate more than stairs, Birdie? Yanno? Yanno?" Qrow doesn't have a chance to tap the clock face before he barrels onwards. "Nothin'. It suuuuucks."
That's a lie, you moron, Qrow finds himself grumbling silently. I know plenty of things you hate more. Paperwork, for one thing- overly-sunny days, or loud music first thing in the morning, or lukewarm coffee, or-
He arrives at the rooftop of this building, streaking across it with a fervour which he has never found before within him. The sounds of the monster's tail destroying the infrastructure around them have died- to confirm this, Clover clears his throat, the green glow from the clock returning slightly. "You know," Clover murmurs, voice hoarse and haggard after the abuse it has been through, "I have a theory about what's been causing my voice- my head- to do this."
Qrow hums, waiting for the response as he shoots the doorknob off the locked door blocking his access to an adjoining building's stairwell.
Clover sighs. "I think it's that Grimm- that dragon-"
In the side of this new stairwell, there is a CCTS terminal. Qrow pulls out his Scroll automatically during this reprieve, ready to see what new, horrifying updates await him upon the holoscreen.
There is nothing. It… it doesn't even connect.
'We apologize for the inconvenience!' the screen spouts out at him, a crimson, glowing red bar scrolling across the top and bottom of the screen like a headline reel. 'This terminal has suffered an unknown issue and needs to restart. Please contact administrators in the Council to ensure this is done in the most efficient-"
He does not bother reading it, simply leaving the broken terminal behind. If it cannot connect to the CCTS- or, at the very least, whatever remains of the CCTS- then it holds no use to him.
"It's finally crumbling," Clover breathes, his voice glitching and spiking in tone, the face of the clock almost completely red. "I- I just-"
Qrow does not listen. It is too painful. If the CCTS is gone, then what actually keeps him here in this world?
He glances at the login count. Less than one hundred.
…he hopes his little girls got out okay. He hopes they will be safe. Perhaps they are in Patch.
…there are more stairs to climb.