It was raining. Black clouds covered the wasteland, the humid air doing it's best to smother the inhabitants. If you were smart, you stayed in cover, letting the deceptively harmless water fall to the earth. It stripped the ash from the air, the dust, the pollutants. For a while the air would be fresher, cleaner, everything existing in the quagmire underfoot.
Those who ventured into the downpour though learned the truth. Fed via the radioactive ocean next to it, the rain mixed with ash and dirt, creating an acid that melted all living beings. Didn't damage the rest of the wasteland, but everything else wouldn't fare well underneath the acidic shower.
Jane sat on a block, small fire crackling away. Her shelter was an old house, the concrete roof providing excellent protection from the deluge. Despite it being the height of the summer, a time when even the ash and dirt in the sky couldn't block out the sun's rays, a light coating of frost surrounded her.
Her pistol was stripped, parts resting on a concrete slab, small bottle of lubricant and an old cloth nearby. The terrible turn of weather gave her a chance to clean her gun, something that she had been meaning to do. Flakes of dirt and dried blood fell to the ground slowly, twirling gently as they fell from the gun. She methodically scrubbed the barrel shroud, making its silver metal shine.
"You shot at me," she grunted to no one in particular. Placing the shroud on her jury rigged work table, she picked up another part, inspecting it. The handle was coated in dried blood. She chuckled slightly, seeing a sliver of bone stuck in grip.
"Minding my own business and you decided to just take a shot at me." She grabbed the cloth and proceeded to scrub at it, removing the filth from it's form. She remembered her last kill with the pistol, punching a hole in a raider's chest, using him as a meat shield. It was probably part of a rib.
She finished, laying the handle on it's side. Grabbing the parts, she proceeded to methodically put it back together, letting the drum of the rain and mechanical sounds of well oiled metal sliding together sooth her. "Honestly, you weren't thinking there. Clearly I wasn't, you can see for a long distance up here. Then again, I did try to avoid the mines. Those were you?"
There was no response, just the pitter patter of rain on the earth and the soft metal clicks and scrapes of oiled metal sliding back together. She worked like that for several minutes, just putting it together, observing each part before adding another.
Behind her stood it, doing nothing but stand there. The source of the frost surrounding her, keeping her cool on the hot day. She could see it, of course, in all it's terrible glory, while others couldn't. Where some saw their breath on the air, or frost on the wall, she saw it.
7 feet of nightmares. Swathed in black shadows, forever moving and shifting around it's form. Long skeletal arms tipped with massive claws. Tall legs. It was humanoid, but more of a mockery of it. The head is what made her nervous.
It was so clearly a skull, but blackened by fire. Ghostly flames drifted from the surface, their black coloring doing nothing to obscure the visage. Its grin was clearly unnatural, teeth sharpened into points. Empty eye sockets seemed to see all, missing nothing.
"My friend here doesn't like you," she started. "It thinks that I should kill you. That I should beat your face against the wall until it's nothing but a bloody pulp. That I should break your knees and throw you into the rain, throwing you back when you crawl back in. It would be interesting." Snapping a part back, she grinned, pulling the slide. A smooth mechanical click sound and it snapped back.
"I must admit; I've never seen a person melt." She frowned, memories fliting across her vision. "That is, without the assistance of fire," she corrected. Grabbing a magazine, she slipped it into the handle, pulling the slide again. A single round chambered itself, the smooth action pleasing her. She grabbed the bottle of lubricant and the rag, stuffing them both in her bag. Making sure she had her stuff, she turned to the figure propped up against the wall.
"Arkansas was your name?" she queried, staring at the man on the ground.
Bound with strip of cloth and extra rope, an older man lay on the ground. He was gagged, preventing him from making any noise. Old clothing draped his form, pants held with a rope belt. It was clear he was suffering from radiation poisoning, open sores and lesions on his face and hands bleeding. While he couldn't make a noise, his eyes stared at her in abject terror, afraid to so much as breath heavily.
"But personally, I think that if you're going to kill someone, do it quickly. No need to prolong the suffering. Don't you agree?"
BAM!
His head exploded, the round from her pistol shattering his fragile bone structure. Blood sprayed across the floor and onto the wall, coating it evenly in gore. Steam rose slightly from the barrel of her pistol, leveled at the corpse. Cold, lifeless red eyes just stared, while the figure in the corner just stood there, watching.
After what seemed like a minute, Jane put the gun away, making sure it was firmly placed in her coat. Reaching behind her, she grabbed the newly acquired sniper rifle. Having stripped and repaired it first, it was in extraordinarily good condition, the only feature marring its form being the rough scratching of 'Arkansas' on the barrel length.
"Chop that would you?" she motioned, one hand pointed at the barrel. Like lightning, a black claw struck, severing the barrel just before the scratching's started. Now all she had was a close range rifle that could pump out .308 rounds. That would hurt. Making sure a round wasn't chambered, she stuffed it into her bag.
"Waste not want not," she replied cheerfully, sitting back down. Her eyes drifted over to the cooling corpse. Remembering her earlier statement, Jane stared at the corpse.
"I wonder," she mumbled. Getting back up she grasped the corpse by the arm, dragging it over to the ledge. With an almighty heave she threw the body off of the building, letting it slap into the earth. The sound of cracked bone echoed upwards. Instantly the rain soaked the clothing, washing away some of the blood. Tapping a few times on the pip boy, Jane watched intently, a small grin pulling at her mouth. The digital clock on her pip boy started counting upwards as the body below began to dissolve.
Jane stood there, a small smirk on her face. Next to her stood Blake, a decidedly less pleased look on her face.
"Told you," she grinned. Blake scowled.
"You don't have to rub it in," replied the cat faunus. Jane's smirk grew wider.
"Yeh, but really, I told you guys those noodles weren't safe."
Yang, Ruby, and Weiss, the three members of team RWBY, two of which were supposed to be fighting today in the double's section of the Vytal Festival, were currently laid up in bed. Ruby had a cold chill and a sheen of sweat on her face, the young leader having passed out almost an hour ago. Yang, if it was possible, had actually grown hotter, her bed now replaced with a steel slab and fire retardant foam. Her fever was causing her semblance to go slightly out of control. This was beyond the frequent bathroom trips and constant groaning.
Weiss seemed to be the worst, with a vomit bucket on stand by and looking like she went 10 rounds with a Deathclaw in hand to hand combat.
All three had gotten food poisoning from the noodles the previous day. Jane had questioned the shop keeper and had discovered that there was a crack in the pipes leading to his shop, causing unfiltered water to pass into the system. Fortunately, it was a mild case, and the Aura of the students would make sure they were ready to go the next day.
Sadly, they could not compete today.
Ozpin stood nearby, coffee in one hand and cane in the other. His frown was present on his face, the circumstance clearly undesirable. With Yang and Weiss unable to fight, Blake and Jane would have to step in.
"Obviously they cannot compete. Ms. Freewrite and Ms. Belladonna will have to fight," commanded the headmaster. His tone gave no room to broker an argument. Nearby Glynda nodded, marking down something on her scroll. Jane merely nodded, glancing to Blake. The faunus was looking back at her, amber eyes full of questions. She ignored the distrust the assassin had for her. She didn't care what Blake felt about her. Most of it was probably true.
"We'll talk strategy in a minute. Preferably in a training room." Blake nodded at that, before briefly glancing back to her team. Jane tracked her eyes, seeing them drift the longest over the blonde, whom was doing her best to roast her bed.
"If you want to stay for a bit, I'll go grab us a room?" offered Jane, the proverbial olive branch extended. Blake nodded, slightly taken aback by the offer. Jane turned to Ozpin, a smile on her face. It was not matched by said headmaster. She could see the wheels turning in his head. Circumstances were different then he must have planned. Inwardly she scowled. The man had more plans than the Enclave.
"Well this is a weird circumstance, isn't it Ozzy?" she asked, hands in her pockets. The man nodded, merely sipping his coffee.
"Indeed. It is fortunate that you are a fifth member of team RWBY, or else I fear they may have been disqualified due to non-participation. I hope you'll do your best to win?" he asked, a glint in his eyes. Jane laughed.
"Don't worry, I know how much this means to you. I'll be sure to win this silly tournament." Stepping beside him she proceeded to head down the hall, aiming towards the locker rooms. Looking over her shoulders, she nodded, seeing she was the only one present. Reaching into her pocket, she grabbed her scroll, unfolding it.
"Liberty, get yourself into the computer systems. I want you on every level monitoring every device. If somebody does the digital equivalent of a sneeze I want to know," she commanded. Not awaiting a reply, she stashed the device back into her pocket. Reaching inside the locker, she lifted her MG32 out.
"Time to have some fun," she laughed.
"So, Atlas academy. Thoughts on whom we might expect?" queried Jane, stretching one arm. She was standing in the middle of the arena, decked out in her armor. Her pip boy was on her arm, it's heavy presence almost comforting in a way. The MG32 hung inside her jacket, hidden from view. Her pistol, although she was thinking of renaming it a bolter, given its excessive calibre size, was on her back, attached magnetically. Her shock sword was hanging on her hip, batteries charged.
Beside her Blake was experimentally twirling her sword on the ribbon. "It's a military academy. Weiss would know more, but they're probably more regimented. Uniforms, plans, strategy. They can probably be traced to a standard military doctrine. We might be able to exploit that." A few more twirls and she sheathed it on her back. A little grandiose, but it got the job done.
Jane was about to respond when there was a flash of bright color, streaking from behind them. Hand flinching to her sword, Jane paused, seeing the bright light stop.
"Or we could get that," remarked Blake, eyes wide as saucers.
Before the two of them stood their opponents. One was immediately noticeable. Clearly a cat faunus, she was dressed in brightly colored clothing, covering enough that it was considered decent to wear. A large portion of her outfit was composed of novelty goods, ranging from a collar with a bell, to various wrist bands. On her feet were roller blades, the source of the extreme amount of movement.
Beside her, much more muted, stood a figure that actually looked familiar in dress. A three-piece suit minus the jacket, fedora and all, he struck a very American figure. His blue tie wasn't done up, but the look suited him. Oddly enough, his weapon of choice looked like a modified trumpet.
The two teams stood across from each other, not making a move. Clearly the colorful one was full of energy, as if waiting for something.
"Go for the fast one. I can't catch match her speed," snapped Jane. Blake nodded, flexing her hands.
"Can I get you to cover me with your gun when I need it?" questioned Blake, checking the clip on her pistol. Jane nodded.
"Just let me know when you need it. Oh, and duck." Flexing her hands, Jane drew her sword and pistol, readying herself. Above them, the counters spun, selecting the environments for their fight.
The sounds of people cheering, shouting, screaming were drowned out, her mind focusing. The environment blocks lifted up, creating the battle field.
Behind her was a Desert and Lava biome, complete with amplified heat from the desert and geysers of flaming lava. Across from them was a more traditional water geyser combined with an urban setting. Those would be somewhat familiar for her, environments that she had battled in extensively.
A timer hung in the sky, counting down from ten. Her opponents readied themselves, the skater girl lowering her stance, while bugle boy brought his weapon to ready.
"Just do what you think works, I'm used to working alone. This'll be tricky at best," finished Jane.
3
2
1
BEEP
Blake dashed forward, crossing over and aiming for the skater. A swipe from her sword forced her back, skating back quickly into the urban environment. The sounds of gunshots grew slightly distant, leaving Jane with her opponent.
He was smirking, trumpet raised, as if waiting for her. Grinning beneath her helmet, Jane raised her bolter, firing a round experimentally. He dodged cleanly, bringing his weapon to bear. Blowing into it, rather than a projectile or something similar, a loud blare issued forth.
Jane stumbled back, the sound waves pushing her backwards with pure force. Unable to get her footing, she kept stumbling backwards, her upper body throwing her center of balance off. Throwing her arms back, she used the momentum to flip herself, landing in a crouch. With her center of mass fixed, she proceeded to crouch/walk forward, taking pot shots with her gun, forcing him to dodge left and right.
By this point, the noise was getting increasingly painful, her helmet doing nothing to cease the echoes. Any second now and he would have to talk a breath, opening the window in which she could act. Swapping the clips on her pistol, she continued to force herself forward, doing her best to ignore the noise.
It stopped, the opponent taking a rather large breath.
Now
Exploding forward with an unnatural amount of speed, she closed the distance between the two of them almost instantly, sword lashing out. He lowered his weapon, using the front of it to block her sword. The sound of shrieking metal and sparks issued forth, lighting up the space between them briefly.
Pushing her gun forward, she jammed it against his ribs, pulling the trigger. The explosive bolt fired, impacting almost immediately against his aura barrier. On the screen above, it dipped noticeably, going from green to yellow. The force of the bolt pushed him backwards violently into the lava biome, his quick footwork saving him from a fiery geyser.
"JANE! NOW!"
Blake's voice echoed from across the battlefield. Twisting on instinct, her pistol slapped onto her back, attaching magnetically to her holster. Her now free hand vanished beneath her coat, pulling forth the MG32. Quickly verifying that Blake was in cover, she spied the multi colored skater.
BRRRRRRRRRRRT!
The bullet hose fired, unloading ammunition at an unholy rate. A veritable cone of death issued forth, explosive shells flying forth. The cat girl's eyes widened, seeing the storm approach. Blake was crouched on the ground, avoiding the carnage.
The cat girl instead brought up her nun chucks. Cracking them, blue light flared into existence, right as the first bullet arrived. Spinning rapidly in a circular disk, she somehow managed to deflect the bullets, the momentum of the shells being redirected.
Coincidentally, the trajectory of some of these were right back to Blake. Despite her mad scramble, she still received a few hits of friendly fire, the explosive round sending her in several directions. Releasing the trigger, seeing it was doing more harm than good, Jane returned to her fight, only to duck quickly.
The man's fist flew over her head, trumpet all but forgotten. Scanning around quickly, Jane saw it lying on the ground, the lava geyser apparently melting it part way. This was now a straight up fist fight between two combatants.
Dropping her pistol, she brought a clenched fist up, smashing the appendage into his ribs. The knuckle duster encased in the gloves focused the energy, causing the air to exit from his lungs quickly. On the screen, his Aura dropped another several points.
She stood up, flipping her sword around so that it was in a reverse grip. Her free hand grasped his shirt, fist clenching into the fabric. Kicking her right leg out, she swept his legs out from under him, forcing him to the ground. Rather than letting him hit, she kept him partially suspended. Pulling her arm back, her fist flew, smashing into his face. Another few points fell off the board. Growling in frustration, she reared back.
"See how you like this," she grinned. A coolness entered her veins, the muscles in her arm tightening even further. If she looked behind her, she would see it standing behind her, one clawed appendage resting on her shoulder.
With a crack, her fist flew, the blow striking his face. His Aura dropped completely, vanishing into a grey bar. She was aware of his nose breaking, the soft cartilage shattering under her steel fist. Distantly she was aware of some booing in the crowd.
Dropping the now unconscious figure, she stood to her full height, retrieving her pistol. Making sure it hadn't been damaged, she turned to the other fight, seeing Blake having a bit of a harder time against the cat girl.
Leveling her pistol, Jane aimed, waiting for a good shot. Using her sword gun and sheath, Blake did an excellent job of redirecting the ice covered nun chuck, but had difficulty getting hits. To compound issues, her left side had a thick layer of ice, obviously a missed strike. Her Aura was in the yellow, while cat girl was still in the green.
Circling around, making sure to stay behind the battle, Jane kept her pistol leveled, staying outside of the visual range of Blake's combatant. She idly noticed it following, staying on her right side.
Catching Blake's eye, she held up three fingers. Understanding, Blake readied herself.
3
Jane focused on the cat girl, lining up the sights. Blake readied herself, positioning around some cover, in case the girl used her nun chucks to deflect another bullet.
2
Pulling the hammer back, she watched Blake shift her stance. Pushing one foot out, Jane prepared herself for the inevitable recoil. She didn't expect it to be severe, but this one shot might turn the tide of the battle. An odd look entered her eye, small smile pulling at her lips beneath the helmet.
1
It reached over, both clawed appendages grasping her arm. One gripped her shoulder, the cold feeling from before back a hundred fold. It spread through her body, accelerating down her torso and leg, almost riveting her to the spot. The other clasped her hand, the feeling spreading through her hand and into the gun.
Ice crept around the barrel, enshrouding it and increasing its weight. Panic entered her eyes, it never having done this before. Her pip boy started squawking, the Geiger counter starting to scream.
"MOVE!" Her scream tore across the battlefield, alerting the cat girl. She dived away, just as Jane pulled the trigger, the hammer firing.
An explosion tore forth from the barrel, a single round flying forth at hyper-sonic speeds. It ripped across the battlefield, tearing up loose debris and cracking concrete with the pressure wave. The cat girl had managed to move out of the way, avoiding the round. Jane's yell was what she would later attribute to her survival.
The round impacted in part of the urban environment. A bright, white flash lit up the area, forcing most viewers to look away. Sound came next, the roaring of fire and heat raising the temperature degrees in an instant, even at range. The shock-wave from the explosion forced everyone off their feet, flying backwards. Black impacted a boulder, her Aura dropping just into the red. Jane was next, striking the ground, rolling several times as ice broke off from her body. Cat girl was last, flying directly through a geyser, draining her Aura enough so as to leave it in the red.
A loud buzzer sounded, completely at odds with the even that had just happened.
Quickly getting to her feet, Jane surveyed what had happened, paling at the sight. A mushroom cloud rose above the stadium, residual heat and fire lighting it up. Her Geiger counter, thankfully, was not squawking, so there was no radiation in the immediate vicinity.
"What the hell did you do?" she whispered, looking at the figure standing before the devastation. Tall, swathed in darkness, it only stared back.
She stood over a table, weapon torn apart. Nearby her Geiger counter ticked occasionally, indicating the radioactivity of the parts. Scrubbing the weapon of any dirt or debris, her mind wasn't present, focusing on the battle previously.
Nearby, it stood, watching her.
"What did you do?" she questioned. As always, the being didn't respond, just watching her instead. Cursing, Jane scrubbed at the inside of the barrel, seeing an odd amount of corrosion. Whatever it had done, it hastened the damage to her barrel by an order of magnitude.
"You've hung around since Point Lookout. Never spoken, never acted, just talked. Life threatening situations, places where I arguably committed acts that should see me banished to the 9th circle of hell. And yet it's a mere contest where you act, turning my shot into something along the lines of a mini nuke. If it's not too much to ask, then I'd like an answer!" She all but screamed her question, standing up. The mess on the table became even more disarrayed, the Geiger counter ticking faster.
For a long moment, it just stared at her, as if challenging her. After a long slow minute, it raised an arm, a single clawed finger pointing at a bookshelf. A single jerk and it speared a text, before returning to the same position. Narrowing her eyes, Jane grumbled, stepping around the table and grabbing the book.
"Semblance and You?" She looked up at the thing. So this was her semblance?
"Semblance is an internal force. You probably aren't internal, last time I checked." She laid the book down, returning to the weapon's maintenance. A long stretch of silence continued, broken only by the squeaking of cloth and oil on metal.
Satisfied with the parts, she started assembling the pieces, meticulously checking each one before sliding home the next. It was calming in a way, taking her mind off of recent events. She didn't want to dwell on the battle, content to ignore Blake whom seemed to be trying to speak with her.
Her scroll vibrated softly, the lump that was her armored storm coat muffling the noise. Sighing, she reached over, grabbing the communications device. Reading the report Liberty had assembled, she dropped her head, releasing an almost pained sigh.
"Fuck."
"Are you sure of this?"
A nod.
"How soon do you think it might happen?"
A shrug. Jane leaned against the desk, arms crossed. Ozpin sat at his desk, multiple windows pouring over the information Liberty had assembled. Hidden messages, graphs tracking dust shipments and robberies, stolen bullheads, even police records relating to the White Fang. Truly the homicidal AI had painted a not so pretty picture.
"I predict that an attack will occur near the end of the tournament. White Fang have been moving troops and equipment recently. Coupled with the Mount Glenn attack and theft of various aircraft, I can only guess they intend to launch a large scale attack on the arena itself," she continued.
Ozpin folded his fingers, ever present coffee forgotten. His gold eyes looked through the floating displays, his mind elsewhere.
"The question is why? Why would the White Fang attack an international festival? They have nothing to gain," he cursed. Jane looked up, pondering. It was several minutes of silence before she responded.
"They're looking for something." Ozpin froze. "It's possible they aren't the highest authority in this shindig. They might just be pawns, working for somebody. Based upon some police reports the White fang didn't behave like this until a few months ago."
Jane pointed to a folder hovering in the air. It expanded, showing various police reports.
"Combined with rising Dust robberies, the Fang shifted from harassment and inciting violence, all the way to large scale criminal activities. Clearly a change in leadership. The major question is still why," she muttered, trailing off.
Her eyes glanced over to Ozpin, seeing his reaction. His hands were clenched, eyes hardened. Behind those eyes she could see his thoughts flying, thinking things only he could see.
A soft light flared into existence on the desk. Both people snapped their attention over to the corner of the desk. Ozpin leaned over and pushed it, a video feed opening. It was clearly an elevator, the high angle looking into a small box room with a single double sliding door. Inside stood Pyrrha, trying her best not to wince at what was probably terrible elevator music.
Ozpin nodded, eyes glancing towards Jane.
"Ms. Freewrite, how invested are you in the future?" he asked.
Jane almost reeled back, the strangeness of the question throwing her for a loop. What precisely did he mean?
"To elaborate, in the coming conflict, are you willing to commit your resources for what's right? To stand as Darkness hammers upon our gates and defend the innocent?" Gesturing towards the screens, he continued, sipping some of his now remembered coffee.
"Pieces and players are moving into position. I fear events are unfolding that shall change the fabric of what we know. Your findings paint a disturbing image, and I want to know if you will stand with us." His words were honest. She could detect no lie from him. He spoke as if he had done this before.
Jane snorted.
"You speak as if this is a game of chess, with pawns and knights and bishops. This is no game Ozpin, no formal bit of conflict, a contest between two people. What you've got coming is war."
Walking slowly over to the window, Jane stared into the sunset, orange light filling the green toned room. Her arms spread themselves slightly, black tinted glasses lighting up.
"Your nations have not known war in it's form in almost 200 years. They have not seen the mountains of dead, the atrocities committed. The endless lengths the other party will go to, in the name of god, king, and country. War is a word you throw around half halfheartedly, thinking you know it's meaning."
She spun around, facing Ozpin. His eyes widened, taking in her form. Here, she seemed more than human. As if she was speaking with more than just her own experience, more than just a passerby. It was here he was reminded of his first meeting with her, locked in a prison cell aboard an airship, speaking of an alternate existence.
Behind her, the sunset stretched her shadow across the floor. But where he expected the shadow of Jane Freewrite, slim bodied and with a large coat, instead the shadow was of a great beast, long arms and claws, shadowy flames flickering off of it's form.
"I know war. For years I breathed it, embraced it in all it's terrible beauty. When I couldn't experience it more myself, I delved into archives and libraries, reading about past conflicts on a scale you couldn't imagine."
She breathed, hands clenching. Ozpin watched, enthralled, as the Wastelander seemed to forget where she was.
"War is not a game Ozpin, it is a state of being. I will fight not because it is good or right, not because the fate of the world hangs in the balance. No, I will fight because it is what I do."
She paused, putting her hands back into her pockets. Releasing a breath she had been holding, a manic grin stretched over her face, crimson eyes hidden by her glasses.
"And I am exceedingly good at it."
Had he truly made the right choice? Ever since he had enrolled Jane at Beacon, she had seemed to be doing well. Beyond the incident at the bar in Vale, she had proved to be good for team RWBY, a person whom brought life exposure to the team. Somebody whom could tell them about the harsh realities and who wasn't a family member.
Now, now he was unsure about his choice. It was clear she was mentally unsound in some way. Her view on combat bordering on a fetish was unsettling at the very least. Her ability to procure this much information and draw these conclusions that only he could guess at spoke of a brilliant mind, toeing the line between unnatural.
Regardless, if she was such a loose cannon, then better to point her at the enemy.
"Whilst War and Chess might be separate, the opening moves can be likened as a game, placing pieces and resources prior to open conflict. You're in the setup phase Ozpin. You, the King, commanding your forces in the shadows, fighting this 'Queen' figure. You can only guess at her motives. I know a fair bit Ozpin, more than I've let on."
His eyes widened. How did she know about the 'Queen'? That information was classified.
"How-"
"Simple, you've networked a pocket portable device with two cameras and a half dozen microphones to a global network spanning 4 nations. It isn't hard to turn on one of those microphones every now and then." As if to prove her point, she pulled out her scroll, tapping a few onscreen buttons. Immediately a sound file played.
"The Queen is moving. She is here in Vale, but I can't tell where."
The voice was familiar to Ozpin. Crow.
"Keep searching. I'm going to inform Ms. Nikkos of her involvement in the future. Before the Queen can steal the rest."
"I'll keep searching. I've got a lead in Vale that might prove useful."
"Do what you can Crow."
The file stopped.
"So what exactly is Nikkos going to find out? I presume that's why she's on her way up?" Jane grinned.
The elevator dinged, the doors opening. Pyrrha stepped out, faltering at the sight of Jane standing over a wide eyed Ozpin, his hand on his cane.
"Is this a bad time, sir?" she asked timidly.
LLLL
Screaming.
They couldn't hear it, but she could.
The figure inside the box was screaming, her soul torn in half. Visible only to her, a yellow line stretched into the distance, fading with every meter. It swayed slightly, as if following somebody.
Her peaceful form was at odds with the scars marring her face, the endless screaming echoing all around. Behind her, it growled, the temperature inside the vault lowered dramatically, small amounts of ice and frost forming on the ground.
"You play with forces beyond your ken Ozpin. Her soul is broken. This machine you've crafted is, in a word, unnatural." Behind her, Pyrrah stood there, a hand over her mouth, as if trying not to vomit.
"It is what's best right now. The Queen gaining her full powers would be catastrophic. As I'm sure you've guessed, this is what she, and by extension, the White Fang, are looking for."
Jane nodded. Ozpin and Pyrrha were talking behind her. Details about what this represented, who the woman in the box was, what she was expected to do, it all flew over Jane.
It stood in front of the technological monstrosity, keeping the woman alive by forcing her soul to retain its place in her body. Jane's lips curled in disgust. The mere fact that this kind of technology existed was an insult to nature.
"Calm yourself," she mumbled, eyes flicking over to it's figure. "They'll get what's coming to them," she finished. The ice stopped spreading, but it didn't recede. If Ozpin noticed the frost, he wasn't telling.
"So what's the game plan here Ozpin?" yelled Jane, slowly rotating to face the two of them, her upper body swinging wide.
"Gonna transplant half a soul onto somebody? To what end? Some grand battle using hero's of old and mystical powers? Throw all of your eggs into a basket with a single stratagem?"
She spread her arms, gesturing around the cavernous facility. "Were you going to force Pyrrha into this thing? Or give her time to think? Let's assume she even goes through with this, what next? Have you got a handy 'How to be a Maiden' book lying around?" Facing Pyrrha, Jane pointed at her.
"And you, miss 'I can do no wrong!' Are you seriously considering this? A man you are supposed to trust is basing an entire scheme, of which he won't divulge anything!" she laughed, striding towards the duo. Ozpin's took a step protectively between Jane and Pyrrah. To her credit, Pyrrha had adjusted into a ready stance. The situation had devolved, not turning out how Ozpin had expected. With no small amount of shock, he noticed the temperature had dipped, his breath appearing in the air.
Jane halted mid step, seeing Ozpin's stance. Her eyes widened, a demented grin overtaking her face.
"Oh, oh this is rich!" she laughed. "You're going to protect her from me?" The torches on the wall dimmed, the temperature dropping significantly. Frost had covered most of the area behind Jane, with thicker ice starting to form in cracks and corners. Ozpin noticed with no small amount of agitation that the ice was forming over the Aura transfer unit.
"And what would you suggest?"
Jane directed her attention to Pyrrha, the question stopping her.
"Well," she started, folding her arms behind her back. "I would do away with this nonsense. Throwing your lot behind an off chance with mystical powers and legends is a sure fire way to have things end badly." Turning to the left slightly, Jane strode forward, circling the two of them, her hands still clasped behind her.
"You need cause fear. Fear of the unknown. You're opponent thrives on mystery and intrigue, obscuring their motives behind grand displays. You need to strike from the shadows and strike hard. A blitzkrieg of attacks that come from everywhere and nowhere."
Jane turned to them and grinned, having walked a full circle. The ice had fully formed around the chamber, creating a dome of black translucent material.
"Show them your conviction. That you are willing to slug it out in whatever grand fight you believe will happen."
Ozpin stared at her. Pyrrha stood behind him, shivering slightly. Silence stretched between them. Jane stood between them and the pods, the cold not affecting her.
"How can you be so sure?" Jane gave a pointed look at the huntress in training. A small grin pulled at her mouth. The shadows in the room lengthened slightly, stretching away from the three of them.
"Because, I know what this feels like. And this definitely feels like there's a larger plan at stake."
Ozpin didn't move, simply watching. Pyyrha had moved her hand nearer to her weapon, but wasn't making any moves. Smirking, Jane strode away, heading for the elevator. The only sound were her footsteps, echoing in the now darkened and freezing chamber. Right before she hit the elevator, Pyyrha called out.
"Back during the fight, you did something, caused that enormous explosion. What was that?" Jane paused, finger over the button. Several thoughts came to mind. How could she phrase what exactly was the reason. Her crimson eyes flicked over to it, standing there, clawed hand over the newly formed ice dome.
"Semblance," she replied, pressing the button. The doors shut, elevator slowly rising.
I do not own RWBY or Fallout 3. All works belong to their respective creators.
Well this one was forced as hell. Next chapter we're diving into the Volume 3 finale equivalent. In the reviews, I'm just asking that you answer a question for me.
Wait for Rooster Teeth to release volume 4 and proceed along with that?
Or start on my own tangent?
I've got my own ideas on how to proceed, just wanting to get an idea of what people would prefer. Also, fun part, I scrubbed half the last chapter just this evening and rewrote the entire combat section. So that was fun.
As always R&R guys, it helps! Oh! And there's one guy in Romania who read this! Shout out to you!
