-(=RWBY=)-

Chapter 12

-(=RWBY=)-

With Jaune's powerful story having convinced Adam Taurus that he was on their side, Jaune faced no more questions over his motivations or loyalty.

And finally, the raid could proceed without further distraction or delay.

After a short briefing by Taurus on their assault strategy, Jaune and the White Fang soldiers piled into a large lorry, which was to serve as their transport to the airbase.

Two members of the White Fang sat in the front cab of the truck, one driving and the other acting as an armed sentry. In the cargo area, Jaune was sat together with Taurus and the remaining nine White Fang soldiers – from whom Jaune was now visually indistinguishable, given the new Grimm mask he was wearing.

Taurus himself sat across from Jaune. Both of them were at the rear of the lorry; they had been last in, and would be first out, once the raid started.

Taurus, whatever else his faults, did not lack for courage; nor for ability, whether as a soldier or as a commander. Beyond coming up with a strong strategy for the mission, he had also ensured that his team had the right equipment for getting the job done. Given that Jaune was now part of that team, he too was being issued the mission-appropriate items.

"Here."

Taurus handed Jaune a small bag of plastic cable ties, along with a tactical radio set and a packet of first aid dressing. Their individual purposes were clear enough – the cable ties for securing prisoners; the radio for communications within the team; and the first aid dressing for not dying of one's wounds. Taurus didn't bother explaining the obvious, but did issue instructions with respect to the radio.

"Press this button on the earpiece to talk. Don't be a distraction – speak only when you have important things to report. And if you lose a fight, and are about to die or be captured, make sure you crush the earpiece so the enemy can't listen in onto our communications. Understood?"

Jaune nodded. Slipping the cable ties and the first aid dressing into a pouch on his sword belt, he then put on the radio set – earpiece over his ear, throat microphone around his throat, and the radio transceiver itself hooked onto his belt.

"Testing."

His voice came out from his earpiece, audible if strange sounding, as was always the case when one heard one's own voice.

Satisfied, Jaune stopped fiddling around with his equipment, and instead focused on listening to Taurus probe his team on their understanding of the mission strategy, and on how they would react as circumstances diverged from what was currently anticipated.

The overall plan was simple. The thirteen of them would be split into three teams, each one with its own objective. Team One consisted of the strongest fighters – Jaune, Taurus and Ilia – and their aim was the incapacitation of the three huntsman teams defeating the base. Team Two consisted of the spider faunus Trifa and four others, with the job of securing the airbase's armoury so as to prevent any military personnel from arming themselves in response to the attack. Team Three consisted of the flight-capable bat faunus Yuma and another four soldiers, with their task being to guard the airfield and prevent any outbound flights – which could lead to other bases being notified of the attack, and to reinforcements being sent. But assuming everything went to plan, and presuming every team succeeded, it would buy them the security and space needed to access the relevant storage warehouse within the base, load up the gravity dust onto some commandeered trucks, and then make their escape.

All this was to happen under the cover of a cyberattack from Watts, which would disable telecommunication systems and equipment within the base for the duration of the attack; no one was going to be able to request any help from the outside world, unless a bullhead or a plane managed to break out and escape to another base.

Nevertheless, plenty of things could and would go wrong, and it was unsurprising that Taurus wanted everyone on the mission to know how to react to changed circumstances.

"Ilia."

It was the speckled, brown-skinned girl that Taurus turned his attention to first. Without preamble or wasted words, the man began testing her on her part in the coming raid.

"What's your role?"

Ilia responded promptly –

"To attack the sleeping huntsman team quartered in the north-western room on the second floor of the huntsman station, while you do the same for the other team in the south-eastern room, and while Mordred defeats the third team on the roof that's awake and on sentry duty."

Ilia's answer was detailed, and delivered without hesitation, but that alone did not satisfy Taurus.

"And what if your targets wake up?"

"I'll put down who I can, and then retreat while hitting them with ranged fire – drawing them westwards away from the huntsman station until you and Mordred are done with your opponents and can come help me."

"And what if they ignore you and decide to help the other human huntsmen anyway?"

"Then I'll warn you and Mordred over the radio before closing the distance and them in melee."

"And what if –"

On and on it went, Taurus conjuring up scenarios of things going awry and forcing his soldiers to consider their optimal course of action in such situations. Sometimes, the solutions were obvious; other times, they were not, prompting uncertain silences from the soldiers, and requiring Taurus himself to step in and offer curt advice.

Jaune paid attention, even when it was not him being tested, since he needed to know what the others were going to do, if he were to help them when things went wrong.

As the conversation winded on, so too did the lorry make its way out of the industrial district, and into the southern, agricultural part of Vale.

Farms and fields passed in the dark, and Jaune found himself musing about the ethics of what he was doing.

Assault, and grievous bodily harm, and possibly even murder – these were the crimes that were expected of him tonight, and to make things worse, it was huntsmen Jaune was being asked to hurt.

Huntsmen.

They varied in strength, from the fresh-faced primary combat school student, to the professional huntsman, to the Champion whose might shielded a Kingdom. And equally, Grimm differed in power, from the ordinary Beowolf, to the giant Deathstalker, to the titan-class Goliath whose very steps shook the earth. It remained a fundamental fact of their world, however, that you needed the former to fight the latter – the huntsmen, to hunt the Grimm; for the skin and armour of the monsters resisted even the most powerful of conventional bombs, while yielding readily enough before aura-imbued weapons and semblances, much as shadows parted before the light.

It was these defenders of humanity that Jaune was being asked to attack, and to possibly kill or cripple – there was no way to spin that fact.

Even so.

He had to see this raid through, if they were to prevent Salem from winning and the world from ending.

Ironically, the instructions that Adam Taurus had earlier given to his team made good advice. Murderer and monster though he might have been, he wasn't wrong in saying –

... spare who you can, and kill who you must.

That was certainly Jaune's intention for the night's coming fights.

"We're almost there."

The driver made the announcement, calling to the rest of them from the front of the cab. The sentry spoke as well, by adding,

"The base is a kilometer away, Captain. Should we stop?"

Taurus nodded, and replied.

"Yes. Kill the engine. The rest of you wait here. Ilia, Mordred – with me."

Without waiting for an answer, Taurus leapt out the back of the lorry, Jaune and Ilia following.

The three of them began sprinting for the base, and though Taurus was initially in the lead, Jaune overtook him quickly enough.

With lives on the line, Jaune pushed himself, using his hard-won aura mastery to move his body at a speed far beyond what most huntsmen would ever achieve.

In mere seconds, he reached the entrance of the airbase. With an effortless jump, Jaune vaulted over the shut and barred gate, and came upon the guardhouse.

And though the aura signatures of unpowered individuals were weak, they were still perceivable, and his extended aura sense told him exactly where all the soldiers on guard duty were – one in a concrete sentry box to the right, another three in front of the guardhouse itself, and the remaining four on the second floor, presumably abed and asleep.

Jaune had but seconds until Taurus arrived, and had no time to waste.

Dashing for the sentry box, Jaune aimed to take out the immediate threat that was the armed sentry.

The man's panic at being attacked by a huntsmen was evident, and he started raising his rifle – but he was slow; too slow.

Before he could get his weapon fully up, Jaune was on him, his right hand sneaking through the sentry box's large front window to hold the rifle down and its muzzle pointed uselessly away. Simultaneously, Jaune brought his left hand forward to clamp down on the sentry's right forearm.

Then he squeezed, and with deliberate but precisely controlled brutality, crushed the man's bone at the midpoint between wrist and elbow. Ignoring the howl of pain that the sentry gave, Jaune repeated the act upon the man's left forearm, leaving him alive but unable to wield any weapons or shoot any opponents.

This was a kindness, in truth, and a better fate that what he would otherwise have gotten, though Jaune did not expect his victim to see things that way.

Leaving the sentry to cradle his broken arms against his chest in agony, Jaune turned on his heels and rushed for the guardhouse. In front of it, three soldiers had been sitting around a makeshift desk chatting, but now they were standing, and hurriedly trying to get their rifles – which had been slung around their backs – around to the front.

They had no chance, for in less time than it took to draw a breath, Jaune was in their midst, his fists flashing out in quick succession towards their faces.

The men cried out, and staggered, their noses broken and their eyes forced shut from the pain. That gave Jaune the opportunity to repeat what he did earlier – reaching out with his bare hands, and breaking the bones in each of the soldiers' forearms.

As Jaune was busy doing that, Taurus came leaping over the gate, too late for any immediate action – precisely as Jaune had planned.

By getting here first and thoroughly incapacitating the soldiers, Jaune had removed the possibility that Taurus would have to fight them; and given that Taurus was never going to be using anything but lethal force, Jaune's swift, pre-emptive action had surely saved these men from certain death.

Taurus took the situation in at a glance, and failed to say anything; certainly, he didn't seem to be complaining that Jaune had sped ahead, or that he had chosen to exercise substantial mercy. The latter in particular was a good sign, to Jaune's mind, for it signalled that Taurus was not going to go back on his own instructions to defer to Sienna Khan's preference, and to spare lives wherever possible.

With the soldiers before Jaune now groaning in pain and effectively incapacitated, Jaune turned his attention to the remaining soldiers within the guardhouse itself.

Taurus too, was moving, heading for the door by the side of the building, clearly intending to make his way up to the second floor where the soldiers were sleeping.

Again needing to incapacitate their opponents before Taurus could get to them, Jaune opted for a more direct route. Taking a few steps back and bending his knees, Jaune then jumped up.

His hands caught the ledge outside the second floor windows, and with a heave, he pulled himself up.

The windows themselves were shut, but he brought his right leg up and gave a swift kick to the glass and shattering it.

This woke everyone within the room, and shouts of surprise and dismay rang out, as the soldiers sat up with a start from their beds.

Overmatched and unprepared as they were, they fell easily to Jaune's onslaught. Darting forward, Jaune won the day with a combination of palm strikes and grappling – the former to briefly stun the soldiers, and the latter in a repeat of his earlier actions, in breaking bones and splintering limbs.

When Taurus finally burst through the door, it was to a fight already over, and to the sight of four men lying in their beds, whimpering in pain.

By this time, Ilia had arrived as well; with a graceful leap, she surmounted the gate, and landed on the entrance road in front of the guardhouse.

Turning, Jaune called to her,

"Ilia! The soldiers are all defeated. I'll bind the ones in the guardhouse; you tie up the ones down there."

Ilia, to her credit, did not protest being ordered about by the new human member of the group, instead nodding and moving towards the nearby group of incapacitated soldiers. Jaune suspected that she was happy enough to secure them before they could gather their resolve, fight through the pain, and perhaps mount some sort of futile resistance – which would only exhaust Taurus's limited mercy and get them all beheaded.

Moving swiftly himself, Jaune pulled the cable ties out from his belt pouch, and got to work – pulling legs together, and binding them both to each other and to the bed frame, before doing the same for arms. The latter necessitated applying force on the men's broken limbs, which elicited terrible cries of agony, but Jaune ignored them and did what was – objectively – a mercy.

Taurus didn't stick around to watch Jaune secure the prisoners; instead, he walked off, speaking over the radio channel to the rest of the team.

"Guardhouse is secured. Move in."

In short order, all the prisoners were secured, and the rest of the White Fang team was assembled in front of the guardhouse. The gate itself had been thrown open, all the better to facilitate their exit later.

Hopping down from the second floor, Jaune joined his fellow criminals as Taurus was speaking some final words.

"You know your tasks. Do them and we'll succeed without any faunus dying tonight. For the Fang!"

"For the Fang!"

An enthusiastic cheer went up in response to Taurus's rallying cry, and then the man himself gave the order for the raid to start in earnest.

"Go!"

Everyone rushed for their assigned destinations, which meant Taurus, Jaune and Ilia began sprinting westwards, along a road running by the perimeter fence, and towards the airbase's huntsman station.

Huntsmen contracted to defend military bases from possible terrorist attacks tended to be housed in a separate, solitary part of the base, for reasons both practical and symbolic. On the one hand, it was in no one's interest to have ordinary soldiers caught up in the superhuman combat that would ensue, were aura-capable terrorists to attack the huntsmen defending the base. And on the other hand, this arrangement signalled to the world that the contracted huntsmen were not a de facto part of the military, and that the post-war settlement enshrining the separation of huntsmen and military was being respected.

It was an arrangement that suited Jaune and the White Fang well enough, for now they count mount their attack without necessarily alerting the rest of the base right off the bat.

Despite the urgency of the situation, Taurus kept a relatively restrained pace, as did Jaune control his urge to run ahead to try and non-fatally incapacitate the enemy huntsman before Taurus could fall upon them. All this was to ensure that Ilia could keep up; the three of them needed to arrive and mount their attack at the same time, for it to be maximally effective.

After perhaps two hundred meters, they neared the huntsman station, a squat two-storey building with a further, three-storey high metal observation tower build onto its roof.

Through his aura sense, Jaune could make out one huntsman descending the observation tower hastily, just as his teammates on the roof below began activating their auras; clearly, they were aware of the imminent attack. That much was no surprise, given that one of them would have been keeping a lookout from the top of the tower, and given that there was no way to hide the aura signatures of three huntsmen approaching at high speed.

Jaune pushed more power to his legs, and pulled ahead in a burst of speed.

Closing the distance faster than the huntsmen would expect, he then jumped, propelling himself up onto a window ledge on the second floor of the huntsman station; and from there, a second leap brought him up to the roof.

Vaulting over the parapet, Jaune fell upon the huntress closest to him.

The slim woman was armed with twin daggers, each one fast and deadly; but the speed and manner by which Jaune had arrived on the rooftop had taken her by surprise, leaving her exposed.

With all the vast strength he had used to contend against Rainart, Jaune brought his sword smashing down upon the woman's shoulder – and in that single blow, her aura broke, light crackling all over her body as the physical manifestation of her soul shattered.

A follow-up kick to her right shin broke her leg, eliciting a cry of pain while causing her to collapse to the floor.

All this passed in but a second, giving the woman's teammates no time to respond; but once they grasped the situation, they attacked.

A big huntsman, broad in the shoulders and muscled like a bull, charged in; and as he did, he brought his morning star swinging around down, in an attempt to pulverize Jaune's head.

Smoothly, Jaune stepped forward, and executed a technique he had used a thousand times before, from his first duel against Cardin in Beacon, to just earlier that evening against Taurus.

Blocking below the head of the morning star with the base of his blade, Jaune then twisted his sword around – deflecting the spiked ball of the morning star off and away to the side even as his blade arced towards the man's head.

Jaune's sword caught the big man right on the side of his face, and in an instant brought his aura from full to zero – as well as inflicting a deep cut, with the man's passive aura defence failing to fully ward off the powerful attack.

Blood gushed from the wound on the right part of the man's face, and the man roared – only for Jaune to continue by kicking the now aura-less man in a shin, snapping that leg in two.

Behind.

Jaune kept enough of an eye on his surroundings to know that the remaining two members of the defending huntsman team were coming for him, and he spun out of the way just as a short but well-built huntsman tried to smash Jaune with the edge of his large, round shield.

Using the momentum of his spin, Jaune brought his sword swinging around, to strike this third huntsmen in the upper arm.

Aura shattered into nothingness, and with a well-placed kick Jaune broke the man's leg and brought him stumbling down.

Stepping around the fallen man, Jaune faced off against the fourth and final member of the team.

This huntress wielded a rapier, and was – from what information Watts had provided him – the leader of her team.

Her anger was etched in her face; a natural reaction, given the bad injuries Jaune had just inflicted on her teammates.

But there was fear there, too; the effortless way in which Jaune had dismantled three professional huntsmen made it fairly obvious what the result of their own fight would be – and given the White Fang's dark reputation, the huntress had good reason to think that she would soon be killed.

Nonetheless, she did not run; that was not the way of huntsmen and huntresses, who would sooner die than abandon their teammates.

Determination flashed across the huntress's face – Jaune could see it, from the furrowing brow, to the hardening eyes, and to the way her mouth set into a grim line.

So when the attack came, it came as no surprise.

The woman lunged, throwing her body forward and thrusting her rapier out towards Jaune's heart.

He reacted immediately, bringing his sword up to parry the woman's blade off course even as he made a lunging stab off his own – all in a single, seamless motion that ended with the huntress's aura breaking and the tip of his sword partially piercing through the woman's face.

She stumbled back, blood pouring from ruined mess where her left cheek used to be.

Even though he had never intended to inflict it, the terrible, disfiguring injury did not give Jaune pause, and he immediately went in for the further disabling blow, with a low kick that shattered the huntress's lower leg into two.

And with that, the short, brutal battle upon the rooftop was concluded. The traumatic nature of aura breaks meant that those who suffered them could not recover aura at all in the immediate aftermath. Hence, for at least the next hour, these huntsmen and huntresses would not be regaining access to their superhuman physical capabilities, and they would be no more of a threat than any random soldier who happened to appear.

Just to be safe, however, Jaune broke their arms all the same; he didn't want them crawling their way to the edge of the roof and taking potshots at the White Fang using the ranged forms of their mecha-shift weapons – that way lay the path to a summary execution by Taurus.

Jaune understood very well that excessive mercy was just delayed cruelty, and he was not so cowardly as to let scruples or squeamishness stop him saving as many lives as possible.

His dirty work done, Jaune considered who to help out next – Taurus, who was fighting on the second floor, or Ilia, who was luring her team of defending huntsmen away to the west.

The choice was made for him, after a wave of crimson energy blew out the entire north wall of the second floor.

Not dust. Taurus's semblance?

As the attack dissipated, like the scattering of blood-red petals into the darkness, Jaune could no longer sense any other aura signatures on the floor below; everyone there was dead, and beyond help.

Ilia it is.

Turning towards the north-west, Jaune leapt off the building, and sprinted after the retreating Ilia and huntsmen who were pursuing her.

He was on them in mere seconds, and between his speed and their lack of situational awareness, he managed to get good strikes on each one of them before any could offer meaningful resistance.

Their auras shattered like so much glass, just as Ilia herself turned around, and switched from fleeing to fighting at the drop of a hat.

Throwing herself back into the fray, her blade extended into a lightning-infused whip, which she lashed to and fro, striking the various huntsmen and causing their limbs to lock up in electricity-induced paralysis.

"Good job."

Jaune voiced his sincere praise, appreciative as he was of Ilia's comparatively humane method of immobilizing the enemy; it totally obviated the need for him to resort to anything as brutal as limb-breaking.

"No problem."

Ilia nodded as she acknowledged the compliment. Then, by unspoken agreement, they got down to binding their prisoners' limbs and also tying the whole group together, thus impeding their movement.

Leaving the whole group bound and sprawled in the middle of the road by the perimeter fence, Jaune and Ilia hurried back to the huntsman station.

When they arrived at the roof, Jaune found – to his great relief – that Taurus hadn't just executed the huntsman team Jaune had defeated, and instead was tying them up. And while the team was sporting bruises and leg fractures that hadn't been there before – courtesy of getting lippy with Taurus and being beaten for it, Jaune did not doubt – the fact that they were still alive was good enough.

As Taurus fastened the last cable tie, he told Jaune and Ilia,

"Ilia, Mordred. Prepare –"

He was interrupted, when their headsets crackled to life, and when Yuma's panicked voice came to them from over the radio channel.

"Boss! We were watching the airfield, and stopped some airmen from getting to the bullheads, but some others sneaked past to the strike fighters, and –"

A roar split the night air, and Jaune knew the mission was now this close to failure; this near, to being utterly dead in the water.

An A-1 Aquila rose into the sky from a distant airfield, before wheeling about and heading straight for where Jaune, Taurus and Ilia were stood.

It wasn't even flying off, to seek help from another base; it was intending to kill the lot of them, and for all that conventional bombs fared poorly against the Grimm, they worked perfectly well at obliterating aura and pulverizing flesh.

Jaune had about a second to decide what to do, before the strike fighter teed up its bombing run and did what the Valean Council had bought it precisely to do – kill faunus terrorists who dared wage war against the state.

If we run, we die. But if we fight, we might just survive.

Jaune made a split-second decision.

We fight, then. I'll fight.

Gathering his aura, Jaune sprang into action.

He sprinted for the edge of the roof, before vaulting onto the parapet and pushing off – throwing himself, out into thin air.

For a single, terrifying moment, it felt like he would fall; and indeed, gravity did grasp at him, threatening to pull him down to earth, and down to death.

But then Jaune activated his semblance, and a searing fire exploded into existence.

With vicious, jarring force, flames erupted in his palms and under his feet – pushing him forward even while streaming out behind him, to create a blazing backblast that threatened to immolate anything in its path.

Jaune was propelled forward and up, riding the force of fiery explosions that felt ready to tear his body apart; and which, even with his semblance protecting him from the worst of the heat, felt like having the sun pressed into his palms.

And yet, as imperfect as the technique was, and as inexperienced a semblance user as he had to admit to being, he flew.

With a scream – of infinite joy and of bottomless terror, and of an indescribable emotion that accompanied absolute freedom – Jaune soared into the heavens.

And though he could not sense the emotions of the strike fighter's pilot from this far away, Jaune was certain that it was incredulity which was coursing through his opponent at that very moment – for it was one thing to see, and another to accept, the fact that a human was performing unaided flight; that someone was streaking through the sky using their semblance, which might as well have been magic to the ordinary human.

Regardless, the Aquila was no longer the sole sovereign of the sky; and instead, the limitless space between the clouds above and the ground below was now a battlefield, on which it was kill or be killed.

Knowing the pilot could not long tolerate this state of affairs, or ignore the threat that a flight-capable huntsman posed, Jaune judged that the pilot would, for the time being, leave the White Fang on the ground alone – and instead prioritize retaking supremacy of the skies, by killing Jaune himself.

That judgement informed his next move. Even before he saw the attack coming, Jaune twisted, thrusting his left hand out to the side, so as to divert his flight off to the right.

And not a moment too soon, for with the next second came –

! ! !

A rain of deadly steel ripped through the space he had just managed to vacate, as the Aquila's rotary autocannon sent a murderous burst of 20-mm dust shells tearing into the night at a rate of a hundred rounds a second.

Had any of those hit, Jaune would have been annihilated, aura or no aura; the force imparted by each projectile was just too great, for even the enhanced durability of the best huntsmen to resist.

Anticipating the moment that the pilot would successfully readjust his aim, and line his firing trajectory up with Jaune's new position, Jaune changed directions again, this time thrusting his right hand out, to deflect his flight towards the left.

! ! !

Once more, Jaune escaped by the skin of his teeth, as another deadly burst of dust shells blasted through the spot he had previously occupied.

Jaune felt the shells, as they passed – as they sliced right through the aura-infused plume of fire being blasted from his right palm. His body would offer no more resistance than that, were he but a fraction of a second too slow, and were the shells to hit home.

Moving quickly, so as to get out of the readjusted firing trajectory that was almost certainly already zeroed in upon his current position, Jaune brought his arms together, and pushed them down –

– such that a burst of force propelled him up, and above the attack to come.

! ! !

Yet another burst of fire cut through the area where he once was, and distantly, a building somewhere exploded, as the stray rounds hit some unintended targets.

Jaune was doing extremely well, so far, managing to avoid getting mangled by the strike fighter's autocannon.

However, it was time to end this, before the pilot adjusted to Jaune's greater manoeuvrability and began aiming at where Jaune would be, and not just where he was.

The Aquila itself was now fast approaching, and about to pass right below Jaune. He was unlikely to ever get a chance better than this, and so Jaune pivoted onto the attack.

Gauging the staggering speed of the Aquila, and estimating where the aircraft was going to be in about two seconds, Jaune spun around mid-air, and shifted his hands so his palms now faced skywards.

And far from fighting gravity, the force of his fire now joined together with the inexorable pull of the earth, to brutally accelerate Jaune downwards –

– towards the Aquila passing beneath.

Bringing his right arm around, Jaune punched.

Aura-enhanced fist met fuselage –

– and the fuselage crumbled.

With a sick, screeching noise, the plane broke in half; the part with the cockpit spiralling to the earth beneath, and the other part with the engine spinning off and exploding.

Jaune's own momentum blew him right through the cloud of fire and smoke that formed, and it took some effort to right himself.

Leaning back, Jaune brought his legs around, so he was plummeting to the ground, feet first.

The fiery explosions beneath his feet and palms did the rest – initially slowing his descent, and then overcoming gravity altogether, to propel Jaune to a lofty hundred meters above the ground, where he settled into a comfortable hover.

From his position, Jaune could see the entire airbase, as well as the burning fragments of his fallen foe, falling to earth below.

The dizzying high from winning that epic dogfight of a duel hit him, then, and Jaune felt an awesome rush of pride – for the power that was his, and for the feat that he had just accomplished.

And in that moment, with the wind in his hair, and with fire in his hands, Jaune felt like he was more than any man, more than any king – and well the equal to the crushing task laid upon him by Ozpin.

But beyond even that, for the first time in his life, Jaune believed – truly believed – that he was going to live up to the memory of his famous ancestor, and indeed, surpass her – by doing what she couldn't, and save the world.

-(=RWBY=)-