written in the stars
'Goodbye to Remnant,' reads the headline, 'a letter by Lisa Lavender'.
His eyes skim over the article; it is the last one, he thinks, which shall ever be published by the Daily Remnant. It is short to read- short, bittersweet, poignant, its message clear as day. He has logged out of the terminal and walked away before he has even finished registering its message.
'I'm leaving Remnant. See you all in the real world- in Patch. Perhaps we will all find some peace. Perhaps we can recover together.'
Qrow would have left a comment, but there are only two people left on the login counts still flickering on a few unprocessed billboards here and there. There is no point saying anything anymore in the comments section.
The bike is no longer waiting for them at the entrance of Amity. He shifts his grip onto the Harbinger's hilt, readying himself for a long walk down, mustering whatever strength he can find within himself to keep going on foot. His gaze is drawn to look over to the city which he has called his own for so many years. Beacon is entirely made of black glass now. He can see his apartment building in the distance, although from where he could enter his home, he cannot even fathom a guess; his gaze swings over to beyond the cliffs, looking over the distance to see Vale down below. He cannot see its state- too much smoke and Grimm ash clog the air, blocking his view- but he doubts that it has fared any better.
Suddenly, Clover begins to cough. Qrow pauses, tapping the clock face. Are you alright?
"You're still here, Qrow," Clover whispers in response, words coming out in an odd lisp that causes Qrow's heart to sink to the floor. "You're still there, I'm still here, you're still there, I'm still here-"
Fear races up his spine, causing Qrow to break into a jog. No- no, I took it down already, why is he-
"We make… quite a team," Clover giggles, that lisp turning back into drunken slurring, his tone softening, lightening, in the most bone-chilling manner possible. "The Circle did quite a number on us, eh? But look at us, babe, look…"
Gods, no, I can't do this again, Qrow thinks as he breaks into a sprint, cutting through Grimm which appear to block his path without hesitation. I can't do this again. Clover, you can't do this- I can't lose you-
But his clock face is tinting red once more, his words sounding like those of a belligerent drunk as he hollers at the shadowy, horrifying figure of a roaring Ursa which lunges out at Qrow. "Shut the fuck up, man, I'm tryna have like, one moment with ol' Birdie here…"
Qrow can sense the incoming spines before he sees them, ducking over to the side of the path as a giant, spiked tail smashes through the obsidian, processed walkways upon which he runs, the beating wings of another Grimm Wyvern stalking him from where it had clearly been hiding atop Amity. His lungs burn with the mere memory of his escape from this creature across Mantle and Atlas.
Clover, however, is completely unaware of the pure fear and adrenaline fueling Qrow's broken, battered body. "Yanno, Qrow- heh, that's a rhyme, wouldja lookit that- but, everyone n' everything'll all just be some little black dusts and lil' specks of data, right? Except for us, we'll be okay, I guess…" He snickers as Qrow silently sobs, rushing down an alley as the building behind him is shattered to pieces by the giant monster hunting him down. Clover adds, "You'll be okay, babe, dun worry, you're too pretty to be a lil' speck."
He rushes past a building with an unprocessed holoscreen sign; the words engrain themselves into his mind with zero effort, that fact almost comical as he registers their meaning. 'A Simple Wok is unavailable at the moment. Please try another day!'
The body he can see through the window of the restaurant explains the cause. He keeps running.
Clover is not finished with his babbling, however, the sound sickening amidst the chaos around Qrow as he desperately makes his way towards the crossroads upon the cliff side. "Will I ever see you again?" Clover breathes, suddenly sounding far weepier than he has all night. "Face to face? I like ta wonder, yanno… you n' me, hand in hand, we watch everything wash away together, right? Right? Right? Hey, Qrow, that's right, right?" Suddenly, Clover gasps dramatically. "Wait, where's our beautiful bike?"
His question is answered as Qrow finally turns the corner. Somehow, Yang's old bike is waiting here, parked amidst a sea of broken cars and motorcycles which have all been processed into smooth planes and angles of darkness. Qrow gasps for air as he realizes just where they are, just where this three-pronged path could take them.
These are the crossroads. From here, they could leave Remnant. They could get away.
Or, if he takes the road down the cliffs…
"If we can get to the highway," Clover had said in Atlas, "we can skip town."
He is too scared to choose- no, he is too scared to accept that his answer had been decided upon from the start, from the moment he had met Winter and understood the gravity of this mess.
His one solace is Yang's bike, the yellow and black vehicle standing out amidst the flames and destruction surrounded by cool, lifeless obsidian. "Damn," Clover whistles softly. "This bike deserves some kind of reward, not to get wiped out like all its lil' bike friends." His words are teasing, still slurring together and tipsy.
Qrow does not smile. He has little hope.
A painfully-familiar cry of anger comes from behind. The Harbinger is raised, extended and pointed at the speaker before he has even fully turned around; once he is able to see the figure which has begun to stalk towards him, however, his aim wavers, grip weakening, one hand scrabbling for the seat of this bike before he can collapse completely.
There is only one feature upon this creature which has not been fully processed: a mane of fiery, golden hair. He knows that hair, if not the smooth black glassy mask which peeks out from underneath it. The Grimm-like figure raises fists covered in external bone, its speed picking up as it approaches Qrow down the road.
Even the Grimm couldn't process your hair, firecracker, he thinks numbly as his trigger finger gets to work, his eyes locked on those blonde waves which he has lovingly brushed an infinite amount of times over the past twenty years. Even they couldn't put your fire out.
Yang Xiao Long has always been the best boxer he had ever seen, after all. Even better than her old man. Taiyang would've been proud- although maybe not so much of her temper, the girl always tending to lash out whenever things didn't go her way.
No wonder she comes after him for touching her precious bike.
She doesn't get the chance to let those bone gauntlets touch him, however, for her body is riddled with gunshot holes before she can get halfway to him. His mind logically begs him to run to her crumpling form, to stab the Harbinger into her chest, to download whatever he can salvage of his older niece, but…
…her body is already naught but ash by the time he is ready to run forward, the only trace of her fire remaining the pool of Tar in her wake.
…is this the end goal of processing? Assimilation?
He swallows thickly, but he has nothing left to cry. What can he do?
Still, he steps forward. He reaches the puddle remaining. He allows the Harbinger to rest in the pool, a sigh of relief slipping through his lips as the blade, the world, lights up. Then the fires consume his vision again, and the download is completed.
Clover does not react to Yang's supposed presence, though.
For a long moment, he rests his forehead against the dash of the bike. Then, he straightens up, settling into the seat of the small motorcycle and turning it on, revving the engine gingerly to ensure it still works. Luck has not failed him on this end, however; the bike roars to life in time with another roar from the dragon chasing him still.
"Hey Qrow," Clover slurs, "thanks for the lift."
He doesn't even realize what just happened.
Qrow doesn't know which would be worse; bearing witness to what has just taken place, or forever being in the dark, which he shall allow Clover to be. Clover does not need to imagine what Qrow has just done to their little girl.