The Fall Project
From Ashes
Wrath
"Hold the line, don't let them get through the window!" Jaune commanded as he thrust his blade into the gaping maw of an attacking Griffin. He stepped back to survey the situation, watching as the collection of students struggled to hold the swarming Grimm at bay. They were doing well, but they wouldn't last long without help. He turned around looking for answers, trying to find a way for them to hold out while they waited for rescue.
If they could get Yang on her feet, it would be just enough, but... she wasn't doing well. The young woman was in shock, staring blankly at the Nova's ashen remains, still coming to terms with the fact that he was gone. Jaune knew she would come around soon, and when she did, it definitely wouldn't be pretty. At the same time, it would be important to keep her calm, that way she wouldn't do anything too crazy.
When Nova died, it was a terrible moment for them all. He was the only one who truly rivaled Pyrrha in combat, and yet he was the first to fall. Despite that fact, the most unnerving part was when the swordsman disintegrated. That's what the Grimm were supposed to do, not people. Jaune supposed that the bomb had something to do with it, but it was still strange to him. Either way, the others needed him to step forward right now, so he snapped most of the group into action before the creatures could swarm the room.
Suddenly he heard the booming grind of a Bullhead's main weapon and the hailstorm of bullets rained down on the swarm that tore into the window. A full squadron of dropships screamed past, drawing the beasts away from the students.
A few moments later, a transport Bullhead rose up to the window with the sidelong hatches open, and a Vale pilot extended a hand to the young huntsmen, "We need your help with the evacuation of Vale. Come on, get out of that death trap!"
The group looked to Jaune for guidance, who nodded for them to board the transport, then turned to Ruby. The red reaper returned a sad but determined look, and the young knight placed a hand on her shoulder. "We need Yang on her feet," he whispered, "think you can talk to her?"
Her brow furrowed as she gave her older sister a glance, but nodded, "She might not listen, but I'll try." She walked over to the Brawler and called her name, making the blonde flinch at the sound. Yang grit her teeth, and the grief quickly began to turn into anger.
Ruby lightly pulled on her arm, but was pushed away. "Yang, we need to help with the evacuation. I'm sorry about Nova, but-"
"Stop it!" Yang snapped, "None of you knew him like I did." She could see it now, what being Ironwood's puppet had done to him. He valued his friends' lives more than his own, and would sacrifice himself time and time again, until it finally was enough to take him. Who knew that someone wronged for so long could turn out to be so selfless?
Now it was her turn to pick up the torch. She wiped her eyes, forcing her grief to the back of her mind, and stood to make her way to the Bullhead. She heard a hiss behind her, and whipped around to see Nova's ashes alight with golden fire. The heat became so intense that she was forced to back away with her hands raised to protect her face, until she was far enough away to see what was going on.
The ashes were stirring, moving of their own volition as they coalesced into a shapeless mass that rose into the air. The ash began to glow bright white, fused back together by the immense heat, and began to warp into the familiar shape of a human. A dozen seconds followed before the mass drifted back to the ground, and began to fade.
Nova lay on his back as the last few flames flickered out, but remained motionless.
They were all stunned, completely speechless to the supernatural event they had just witnessed. Yang's heart thundered in her chest, waiting for a sign of life from the young man. The moment he lurched forward and gasped for breath, she was already hugging him, and couldn't stop the tears of joy from streaming down her face.
"Uh…. Yang?" Blake interrupted, "You might wanna… You might wanna look."
Something warm wrapped around her shoulders, enveloping her in a cocoon of velvety softness of the like she'd never felt before. She looked around in wide-eyed astonishment, marveling at the large, golden-feathered wings that sprouted from Nova's back.
Yang couldn't help but touch the left side of his face, where his scars used to be. He was completely healed of all injuries, even his amputated wings had come back. She was rendered speechless, having witnessed nothing short of a miracle before her very eyes.
While the others stared in silent wonder, Ren quietly made his way to Jaune, "He's a Phoenix," the quiet young man hissed.
Jaune took a moment to consider the unbelievable, seemingly impossible evidence. "Well that's great, isn't it?" he concluded, uncertain about Ren's dislike for the resurrected faunus.
"You once asked me why I don't trust him. There is something dark buried in his heart," he hesitated, trying to find a way to make the young leader understand. "Even in death, a Phoenix is a deceiver, Jaune. It's in his nature. He can't be trusted," he urged, staying quiet so none of the others could hear.
Jaune huffed, disappointed with his teammate, "He just saved us all, Ren. If that doesn't make him worthy of the utmost trust, then I don't know what will."
Milo saw the deaths of his family. He watched the bullets tear into his father's chest, the blood pool around his mother's lifeless body, and… his brother. His broken home torn apart by Ironwood's soldiers, and his blades glistening with Atlesian blood. He saw the grenade that injured him and felt the explosion of rage and pain that ignited his semblance for the first time, burning it all away. The images flickered to Ironwood, staring down from above him while a machine stole away his past life. He remembered waking, and hearing the lies whispered through the General's teeth.
Words couldn't describe the pain of feeling it all again.
Yang noticed that his golden eyes were wide open in horror. He stared through her, off into the distance while his hands shook. In his confusion, he abruptly sprung to his feet, pushed Yang away, and defensively shielded his body. Finally noticing his wings, his head swiveled back and forth, trying to get a better look at them.
"Milo?" Pyrrha questioned cautiously with a look of shock and disbelief at seeing him perfectly whole.
"Pyrrha?!" he voiced with a lump in his throat. The glare he gave her was one full of hurt and betrayal by the one girl he trusted with his life since they were children. Instantly her heart twisted with regret and concern as she saw his memory fully restored.
"Milo?" Jaune asked, confused at hearing the name she gave her beloved weapon. But then he put a palm to his forehead as the realization dawned on him. It was so obvious. He looked like an older version of the boy on Pyrrha's Mistral Tournament video, the boy she kissed. The only significant difference was the addition of wings on his back. "Oh, I should have known..." he murmured to himself, feeling his heart sink deeper in his chest.
Yang looked at them both with confusion, "What do you mean, 'Milo?' What's going on?"
The group's leader shook his head and waved his hands, getting a grip on the situation before they lost too much time, "We can talk later. Right now we all have a job to do. Time is running out, so everyone on the Bullhead!"
"Come on," Yang urged Nova.
Slowly, the young faunus collected his swords as his mind became more focused. "No," he replied adamantly, shaking his head.
"What do you mean, no? We need your help!" she argued, trying to pull him toward the Bullhead. Thankfully, he went along with her guiding hand and took a step onto the dropship.
Faster than lightning, he shoved Yang on board with an outstretched wing and slammed the door shut before anyone could react. The brawler sprung back on her feet and slammed the door hard. "No!"
Yang's heart immediately rose into her throat, making her nervous and fearful. Did she do something wrong? And what was all of this about Milo? Wasn't that the name of Pyrrha's weapon? None of it made any sense! How could he abandon them?
How could he abandon her?
Milo stared at the aircraft until it disappeared around the corner, then closed his eyes, letting the last moments of Ironwood's attack on his home fill his mind again. He grit his teeth in rage, felt his heart thunder in his chest, and his hands ball into fists.
Everything felt vivid and overly-detailed, after living so long with only one eye. He could see the motion of the waves beneath the stadium, he could count the feathers on every Grimm that flew by… Feathers. Wings.
That's how he would learn to fly... by watching the Grimm!
With a running leap, he dove from the window and spread his wings wide, catching the wind and instinctively beating his wings to stay aloft. His eyes burned bright with rage and determination as he drew his blades and banked toward the city under siege.
Today, James Ironwood will know the meaning of wrath.
Winter watched from the window of her high-flying aircraft as the Grimm descended onto the city. She heard the scrape of claws and beaks against the hull of the ship as the creatures tried to rip their way inside, and swiftly drew her blade and stabbed at any creature who came close enough to breaking in.
The airship suddenly lurched, throwing Winter to the ground as something outside the craft exploded, and she started to feel weightless as they started to plummet to the ground. Using the rows of seats to brace herself, she quickly made her way to the cockpit.
The door flew open as the co-pilot, Lavender, fell flat on her back and fired wildly into the gaping mouth of a Nevermore with her pistol. Winter dashed forward and killed the creature with a swipe of her sword, then stepped into the cockpit.
Wind tore at her clothes and hair as she saw Jet fighting with the controls to keep the airship aloft. A Griffin smashed through the remains of the cockpit window, and the pilot reeled back to avoid the snapping creature, desperately trying to release the restraints for him to escape. The Griffin's beak snapped inches away from his face, but before Winter moved it let out a pained shriek and fell limp, then was ripped out of the window.
Jet immediately fought with the flight controls to maintain altitude, flipping switches and turning knobs to keep control of the craft. Winter sighed with relief as they leveled out, and the feeling of normal gravity returned. The relief was short-lived, however, when the ship lurched again, and the screech of metal echoed from the rear of the ship.
Winter turned to see a Paladin clawing its way toward them, nearly too large for the craft's passenger cabin. She lifted Lav by the collar and shoved the woman back into the co-pilot seat, "Get us to the harbor, that's where the evacuation will be." Winter ordered, but they all froze as a clatter shifted their attention back to the shattered cockpit glass.
A young man with a fierce gaze glared at them from the window, then shifted inside, his golden wings folded behind him to fit in the tight space. He barely regarded the three, drifting past them in silence. His bright-gold eyes snapped to the Atlesian Paladin clawing it's way toward them, and in a streak of gold and a gust of wind he flung himself toward the machine. The Paladin was smashed back through the gaping hole it had made in the rear of the craft and they both plummeted to the buildings below.
Winter stayed silent for a moment, still processing the image she had just witnessed. As the craft listed to the side, the pilots returned to the controls. She considered for a moment the hateful resolve the young man had on his face, and leaned toward the pilot, "Change of plans. We need to follow that faunus." She moved back into the ship's cabin, killing every Grimm that dared get on board.
After a few moments Lavender took off her helmet, giving her partner a look of disbelief, "Jet? What just happened?"
"I don't know Lav, but I think Vale has a guardian angel," he stated, and started the slow process of turning the large heap of metal around.
The clash of claw and metal reverberated from the walls of a warehouse in the Vale docks. Shattered wooden crates lay strewn about from the intense fighting, and the doors were broken in from the ravenous Grimm.
General Ironwood's pistol barked as he pounded shot after shot into the approaching creatures, felling as many as he could before they came close enough to bludgeon them with his hard-hitting prosthetic arm. He fired away with anger in his heart. Someone had stolen his mechanized army and slain hundreds, maybe thousands, giving Atlas one of the biggest insults in Remnant. Once he found the person responsible, the full might of Atlas will come down on their heads.
The Grimm fell quickly, unable to swarm the General because of his speed and accuracy. Moments later, an Ursa bulldozed it's way through one of the warehouse walls, throwing containers all over the building. The moment it saw the General, the beast bellowed and charged, trampling anything that got in it's way.
The old Huntsman crouched lower, preparing to dive out of the way and fire from behind, but a deafening crash sounded from above. Ironwood looked up to see a Paladin fall and crush the Ursa in an instant, making a sickening sound of crushing bone and twisting metal that made him want to cringe. He backed away as the machine began to stir, then gasped when a young man with dual swords and golden wings leaped up from the other side of the wreckage and landed on the Paladin's back, viciously hacking away at the exposed wires and hydraulics.
The machine struggled for a few seconds before flickering out and collapsing, and the young man ripped his blades from the metal carcass. His wings were pulled in close and he was crouched low, cautiously scanning for more hostiles and ready to dive at a moment's notice.
Ironwood's jaw dropped as the young man turned and faced him. His heart started pounding out of his chest. Milo's golden eyes locked with Ironwood's and his face twisted into one of absolute rage and singular hatred for the General. The familiar clang of metal footsteps diverted Ironwood's attention as he saw a full squad of Atlesian Knights charge in and level their weapons at the faunus.
He didn't even look at them.
With a simple twitch of his wrist, all six robots exploded from within and fell to the ground, the plastic casing boiled away to reveal a metal humanoid skeletal frame. A horrid squeal sounded, an inhuman shriek piercing the air as the frame lost its shape and turned molten in a matter of seconds.
One look at the Phoenix and Ironwood knew without doubt that the worst case scenario was now his most unfortunate reality. Against all odds, someone managed to kill Milo Aurelius, and his heritage brought him back as this creature of death and destruction. He always feared that should the boy die, his memory would be recovered and the boy's fiery glare would come for him.
The General took another step back, "Now Nova, wait just a minute-" The boy's large wings twitched, and he took several heavy steps toward his target. His greeting ignored, the General snapped up his pistol and fired, surprised when the boy dashed to the side using his wings to close a huge distance.
He raised his prosthetic arm in defense, and staggered as the swords clashed against him. They locked for a moment and the rage-filled faunus leaned forward. "I remember everything," he hissed, his voice vicious and angry.
Before Ironwood could respond, the swordsman shoved him away and spun around, delivering a kick with such force that Ironwood flew back, smashing clean through one of the warehouse walls. Structurally weak, the building began to crumble. It collapsed in a billowing cloud of smoke and dust just as the avian flew from the hole in the ceiling. As soon as he eyed the General running from the wreckage, he dove.
The battle was intense. Ironwood was a veteran and a formidable Huntsman, but Nova was younger, stronger, and far quicker than the old man could ever dream of being. Before long, the General was panting from the strain.
He managed to shove the young man back with a hard punch to create space and get his bearings before the onslaught could begin again. Out of the corner of his eye, Ironwood noticed an audience of soldiers and Huntsmen with uneasy and confused looks, unsure if Ironwood was responsible for the destructive robots and hesitant to intervene.
A hard knee from Nova smashed into Ironwood's stomach, making him gasp for air, then reel back from a slash meant to cleave him shoulder to hip. The blade pierced what remained of the General's aura, and sliced clean through the white uniform on the right side.
Ironwood felt the searing hot, razor sharp blade scrape against his chest, just barely too light to break the skin. Fear seized his heart, pounding in his chest because of how close death had almost claimed him.
He grit his teeth, knowing that he had to turn the tide somehow. He faked a dash forward, making the young faunus flinch and buy the General a few moments. He tossed the pistol into his right hand and pulled a grenade from his back pocket, priming it behind his back. When Nova charged again, lunging for Ironwood's heart, the Huntsman deflected the stab to the right and kicked the boy past him, tossing the grenade in his direction.
Nova whirled around to a familiar sight; a grenade bouncing off the ground a few feet in front of him. With a bellowing war-cry he bat the grenade back at Ironwood using the flat of his blade. The explosive whistled past the General's ear, and he dove forward as it exploded, throwing him straight into his opponent.
The sword was thrust forward, piercing through Ironwood's prosthetic arm and twisted. The sound of screeching metal and sparking wires made the old Headmaster grimace as his arm fell limp, useless at his side. He jabbed with his left, throwing the young man away to try and figure out what to do next. This time, Nova kept his distance.
The General considered his options: He couldn't run because of the faunus' newfound ability to fly, he couldn't fight with only one functional arm, and he certainly couldn't talk his way out of this with someone like Nova. The only things left are to call for aid from his soldiers currently observing them, likely ending with their demise at Nova's hands, or he could continue fighting and hope for a lucky blow to land.
These were not good options.
Ironwood scowled at Nova, expecting a mocking grin. Instead, the young man was slowly circling the object of his disdain with a glare that burned into Ironwood's soul.
The fear returned and he knew that this was it. This is the day he was going to die, by the hands of his own creation, no less.
It felt so wrong.
He wanted to save the world, give humanity its one chance to see victory in these dark times of war and death. Instead, he will likely be accused of bringing down an entire kingdom.
As Nova raised his weapon to deal the final blow, Ironwood hoped that maybe Nova would eventually hold true and do what he was meant to do.
He closed his eyes, waiting for the sting of hot steel, to accept the cold embrace of death.
A clash of swords and a grunt made Ironwood look up, and he saw the bright white of an Atlas uniform with the soldier's back turned, and snow-white hair in a tight bun behind her head. "Enough!" she declared, sword raised in Nova's direction.
"Get out of my way," he growled.
Winter stood firm, stubbornly planting herself between Nova and Ironwood. "Your point has been made, now it's time for you to stop."
He stared blankly at the Schnee, anger and rage still prevalent in his mind, but for whatever reason, he sheathed his swords. His golden eyes flared for a moment as he looked back at Ironwood. "One day, the consequences of your actions will catch up to you, General." At that, his wings spread wide and he leaped into the air, disappearing over the buildings.
Jaune's breathing was heavy, and his voice hoarse from all the commands he had given during the evacuation. He coordinated with other team leaders to create a boundary against the Grimm while the older huntsmen fought the White Fang. As time passed, they slowly retreated toward the docks, where dozens of ships were waiting to accept the escaping populace of Vale.
It was hard to keep track of everyone, and somewhere along the way both Blake and Yang disappeared. He knew they could take care of each other though, so his focus had to stay on the priority of getting the people out of the city alive.
It was by far the most difficult task he'd ever attempted, establishing runners for communication because of the destroyed Vale Communications Tower, keeping the other teams spread out, and adjusting their movement according to the focus of the Grimm incursion.
It took hours, but eventually the majority of the citizens of Vale were a safe distance from the Kingdom. The last few airships lowered to the pier as the huntsmen did everything in their power to hold the Grimm back long enough for the rest of them to get away safely. As the last teams of academy students boarded the transports, Jaune turned away from the ship and moved back into the battle with Pyrrha right behind him, refusing to leave his side.
A gray-haired Huntsman with a number of old scars stopped them before they re-entered the fray, "You've done enough kids, let us handle the rest."
"You won't all get out without coordinating an escape," the young man insisted. "I'll have four Bullhead pilots hover above the landing to shoot Grimm so you can all board, and we'll all cover the retreat."
The old huntsman's eyebrows raised, then he slowly nodded. "Very well, but you must stay out of the fighting. You kids are the future of Remnant." He turned to his fellow Huntsmen and barked out orders as he charged back into the fray, while Jaune ran to the edge of the pier and waved down a Bullhead, informing the craft of his plan.
Less than twenty minutes later every Huntsman and Huntress was safely aboard a transport, watching remorsefully as the burning city of Vale fell over the horizon.
A man without self-control is like a city broken into and left without walls.
-Proverbs 25:28