written in the stars
Qrow runs, leaving rose petals behind in his wake. He runs, cutting down more and more Grimm as the halls become more black than anything else. He runs, ignoring the fact that the corridors are teeming with shadowy beasts, all laying in anticipation for one of the few people left logged into this world.
To think so egocentrically, that they lie in wait for him, is not a narcissistic exaggeration. Qrow looks at the login count projected upon one of the remaining holoscreens at the end of one corridor. There are less than ten people left. Me, James, Glynda and Oscar, at least, Qrow thinks bitterly. Perfect. We'll have a little intimate party, the four of us.
He can only hope that that number means that Yang made it out okay. The thought of finding her-
He refuses to even acknowledge it. He can't- not with Ruby's death literally haunting every footstep.
His feet carry him through various academic settings; training halls and classrooms, science laboratories and small, manicured quads. Each area is infected by the Grimm, the terminals residing in each corner no longer working at all. Qrow does not mind, nor does he bother checking each terminal for more than just a breath, for the mere thought that the Apathy might still be on his trail is enough to send him running for the next staircase, the next door. He cannot see them again. He just can't.
After mercilessly cutting through wave after wave of Grimm, the man finally chances upon a lone terminal still functioning. It is not connected to the greater CCTS- of that, he bears no hope. However, there is another private message awaiting him, and the mere sight of it causes him to raise the Harbinger high above his head, the man nearly striking down at the outlet until Clover cries, "Qrow, wait! We need to listen!"
This bastard just left Ruby to rot! Qrow wants to scream. He lowers the sword, however; the screen is already logged into his account, his inbox flickering with another message. There is no point ignoring it when it might be able to give him some indication of where to go, of what to do, to maybe- just maybe- begin fixing all of this.
Unfortunately, from the moment James begins to speak, Qrow understands that this message will do nothing but increase his anger, his bitterness. "You've been through a lot tonight, Qrow. For that, I'm genuinely sorry- it was nothing personal, after all."
"That bastard went after you in the middle of your show, and it 'wasn't personal'?" Clover nearly screeches.
"You were handpicked, yes," James continues, his tone lighter, airier- almost as if he is delirious, in all honesty- than before, "but you were merely one of many. All we needed was your point of view. Your voice moves people, Qrow; if they heard you speak, then you can give them the truths that they didn't know they wanted."
Qrow splutters silently at the nonchalance of these words. How can he speak as if attacking Qrow, as if using his voice as a tool, was all just part of some harmless plan?!
He does not get to share his outrage with Clover, for Glynda Goodwitch's voice filters through the rest of the message after the sounds of a brief scuffle. "Qrow," she breathes, voice thick as if she is near to tears, "all James has ever wanted to achieve was change. The rest was incidental. After all, what good can four people hope to accomplish? With only four voices, plus or minus a few thanks to our council seats or elected positions?" Glynda sighs, clearly frazzled beyond compare. If there had been video to go along with this audio recording, Qrow can imagine her neat bun falling apart, her expression fatigued beyond measure. "James… wanted to make a change. This 'perfect utopia' of a democracy can crush any motion we try to put out there in a moment. So, when we found the Harbinger, we wanted to try to force that change. I let James talk me into it." Another sigh, another heartbreak. "And look where it's brought us."
The message ends on that empty, quiet resignation. They wanted to use my voice to convince the masses to accept whatever they wanted in this society, he thinks bleakly as he steps away from the terminal. He does not bother logging out. There is no one around to steal his information, anyways. They wanted to use me as a tool. Is that why the Grimm target some people more than others? To weaponize them, to use them-
He shudders. What has he been doing if not benefitting from that ability of the Harbinger since the start? Coco's bullets, Blake's speed- Ruby's steps in his shadow, glowing brilliantly wherever he goes, protecting him from the demons on his trail-
I'm no better than them. Logically, he understands this is not true, for he is a victim in all this- perhaps even more so than most. Emotionally, however, even the mere thought of that idea, that he is just like the Circle, causes him to turn tail and run.
Finally, they arrive at the main upper hallway. After clearing out the Grimm which appear without delay, Qrow catches sight of another figure curled up in a nook in the wall; with horror in his heart, he sees that her fingers are still curled around her Scroll, an ID badge upon her chest proclaiming her identity clear as day where her obsidian face cannot. Weiss Schnee's body looks strangely serene, although Qrow can say with absolute certainty that black hair will never suit her when compared to her formerly white locks.
Even in this processed state, he can still see the grace which fills her figure, just as it had Winter's. He sighs as he sees that almost her entire body has been processed. There is no way to save her.
"Winter and Ruby are crying out for her," Clover murmurs. "Let's take her and go."
I don't think there's much of her even left- and I don't want to carry any more children with me, Qrow thinks bitterly in response. I feel like- like a reaper.
"We're her only chance to get out of here," the younger reminds him gently.
I know. That doesn't mean I like it. He downloads her data anyways- at least Ruby may have some companionship, some solace, in whatever world exists within the Harbinger.
Two doors later, and Qrow is able to find what he has been looking for all this time: a singular functioning elevator leading up to James Ironwood's office. The light flickers on, and the lift's doors open without delay, allowing Qrow to enter it and press the topmost floor's button easily. The doors close, the carriage beginning to rise, leaving Qrow to deal with the chest pains which mount in anticipation for seeing the man he has wanted to hunt down since the truth of his involvement was revealed.
"Qrow," Clover says suddenly, "there's something I've been meaning to tell you."
Qrow hums in response, gently stroking the clock face as he fights to calm his breath. And what's that?
"Once this- whatever it'll be, I guess- is over… maybe there's still time to skip town."
Qrow's heart leaps into his throat. He longs to speak the truth, to confess to what he has planned since his fight with Winter. He knows that saying it would break Clover, though. For the first time, he is thankful that he cannot speak; Clover would be able to handle the truth. Qrow had been the soldier between them. Clover is too gentle to do what Qrow has done- to do what Qrow is about to do.
Clover sighs, sensing at the very least Qrow's hesitation, although the depth of his heartache is lost on the younger. "I don't know, Songbird. Just think about it, okay? Standing offer." Before he can say anything else, however, the elevator dings and the doors begin to open. "Okay. We're here."
And as light spills into the elevator, illuminating Qrow's path forward at last, Qrow steels himself, ready to face the man he had thought he had left behind all those years ago.