There was something special in the moments just before a battle. The air felt clearer, the stars brighter. Every muscle sang out with glee. There was no doubt, no hate, no anger, just the knowledge that the only thing that stood between you and death was your aura, your weapon, and your skills.
Blake threw the scroll on the ground and stepped on it, rewarding her with a loud crunch as the device shattered. Yang glared at the slivers of glass that clung to her boot.
A Bullhead flew over the wreckage of their battleground, forcing the two to cover their ears. Dozens of men leapt from its doors, all clad in the white and black colours of the White Fang.
"Great, more people trying to kill us." Yang pumped her gauntlets, shells scattering across the ground. She clipped in two more, and raised her arms. "Who's first!?"
Blake grabbed her arm. "We need to move, now!"
"Why?"
She pointed at their weapons. "Those aren't rifles."
The new soldiers were carrying heavy firepower, mortars, grenade launchers, rocket launchers, and even some new weapons that Blake couldn't place. They carried them expertly, closing the distance between the two groups far faster than she felt comfortable with.
Yang searched the streets. "There." She pointed towards a small, squat building, half a block from their current position. It was made of old, grey concrete, shutters on every window, and a rather nasty looking lock set on the front door. "If anything here's going to provide some cover, it's that."
Blake nodded, only to catch a bullet in her arm. She cried out, more in surprise that pain, but the wound still stung.
"Move!" Yang yelled. She ran towards their impromptu bunker, keeping her arms up to deter any other lucky marksmen. Blake was only a few steps behind her, and from the sounds of it, so were their attackers.
The ground next to them erupted in a burst of flame and dirt, showering the both of them. It was soon followed by many more shots, close enough that Blake could feel the flames licking at her skin.
Yang fired a shot at the door, and threw herself through it in a cloud of splinters. Leaping in behind her, Blake pushed a bookshelf against the doorway. It wouldn't keep them out for longer than a second, but it was all they had.
The store they had barricaded themselves in looked to be some sort of general store. DVDs fought for space with racks of stale bread. Dark freezers advertised cheap and sugar filled frozen confections. She could see a staircase near the back, along with a sign stating, "Roof Access."
"That's way too many guys for the two of us." Yang said, leaning over and panting for breath. "Did they think we brought an army?"
"It's a response team," Blake explained. "They're trained to fight armies."
"Great, so we're facing a special ops team?" Yang stood up, and glared through the window. "What kind of weapons?"
"I—I don't know." Blake pulled out her clip and checked her ammo. "We barely managed to scrounge up some grenades; I have no idea where they got a mortar from."
Any further words was cut off when their hasty barricade was obliterated by a rocket. Yang hugged the wall, firing shot after shot at the approaching horde.
"Son of a freaking—Blake! Get on the roof, take these guys out!"
"On it!" She ran towards the back of the shop, climbing the steps two at a time. At the top was a steel door, which she ran into at full speed.
Outside, she was immediately reminded of an old movie she saw that depicted the Great War. Gunfire filled the night sky; no other noise could cut through. Acrid smoke reached her nose and mouth, nearly causing her to heave what little she had eaten there.
Pulling out Gambol and pulling the slide back, Blake ran to the edge of the roof, peered out into the warzone below her. The soldiers had set themselves up so that they were all facing the doorway. The walls were too thick for bullets to penetrate, and the mortars were still reloading.
Lining up her sights with the closest soldier, she fired off a short volley of bullets. They struck him straight in chest, rising up his body until the final round hit his forehead. He went down like a sack of rotten apples.
Blake aimed another shot, but instead of BANGs, she got clicks. Her clip was empty.
"You have got to be kidding me."
She dropped to the ground, just barely dodging a burst of fire. Slipping out her guns clip, she fumbled for a second one. Debris and dust rained down around her, nearly blinding her. Some fell in her mouth.
Pulling back the slide, Blake leaned over the edge of the roof. Before she can take another shot, a huge chunk of her cover just next to her is suddenly gone. She falls back behind the concreate barricade, peeking her head around to see what had torn it away.
In the distance, she can just make out the glint of a snipers scope before a second shot forced her back down. She fired a few quick shots with Gambol, but it was a lost cause.
Not for the first time, she cursed designing her weapon off a pistol. Because of it, she lacked both Ruby's range and Yang's power. Yes, she technically had the highest rate of fire out of the four of them, but that rarely seemed to matter.
Another bullet flew past her head, only just missing her ear. The sniper knew where she was, and wasn't taking any chances.
The soldiers below here charged forward, bolstered by their eye in the sky. Yang's blasts grow more frequent, but she can't hold them back forever. Blake tried to take a few out, but every time her head entered the open air, she had to pull it back. The sniper seemed to take some sick joy in hitting her hair.
OOn top of that, the few shots that did hit were having little effect. These soldiers had a far stronger aura than the first eight, and she could spy a few plates of body armor underneath their clothes.
Her gun couldn't reach the sniper, and it couldn't take the small army below her out.
Blake looked at the building the sniper had holed up in. It appeared to be an apartment building, taller than any of the other structures. Each of its sides were covered in windows, and small ledges that looked like they could support a human.
She shifted her sight to the building next to hers. A fire escape reached up to the roof, the ladder had fallen to the ground, just barely connected to the first platform.
Blake grinned.
Leaving behind a shadow to keep her opponents busy, she clambered up the ladder. Another bullet nearly blew off her foot, but it instead hit the metal below her. The ladder clanged to the ground.
Blake jumped up to the next platform, barely dodging a burst of fire. She pulled out Gambol shroud and fired back at her attacker, missing by a mile.
Scowling, she grabbed the ribbon and threw the weapon into the roof, and pulled herself upwards. Throwing herself on the roof just before she caught a bullet, she started running across the roof.
Another shot threw up a cloud of dust to her left. She stumbled, leaving behind a shadow to distract the shooter. However, the next shot was right next to her foot. Clearly, her attacker knew about her semblance.
She leapt to the next roof, realising too late that it was further down them she thought. Landing on an old radiator, she felt her ankle wrench itself out of position. Pain shot up her leg, but there was no time to patch it up.
Refusing to stop, she kept running. Her leg hurt with every step, but it continued to bear her weight. She pulled out Gambol Shroud and threw it onto the roof, and scrambled up the wall.
The sniper seemingly took offense to this, and just before she could climb onto the roof, her handhold was destroyed. She fell backwards, her hands scrambling for grip, but there wasn't nothing to grab.
Until her hand went into the wall, kicking up a cloud of pulverised brick. She stared at the newly created handhold, not quite believing her eyes.
How…?
The wall was very old, and her body was pumped with adrenaline. Besides, she was fairly strong, not as strong as Yang, but enough to smash some bricks.
Right?
Shaking her head, she threw up her gun and pulled herself onto the roof. There was still two buildings between her and her opponent, and the crowd attacking Yang was growing far too close for comfort.
The two buildings in front of her were both apartments, almost identical to her target. By the standards of the CCT, they were short, but still far too tall for her to scale.
Blake smirked.
If you couldn't go around, go through.
She sprinted to the edge of the roof, throwing up shadow after shadow to draw off fire. Near the edge, she crouched and leapt off, quickly pulling out her sword and firing a few shots at the closest window. A web of cracks spread out on the glass.
Her arms crossed, she crashed into the weakened window and smashed through. A few slivers were deflected by her aura, tweak enough that she almost couldn't feel them.
The floors were made of cheap, but real wood. There was a few splinters near where she landed, but the surface was otherwise smooth and shiny. Looking up, she saw that the rest of the room was in poorer shape. Books were lying on the ground, pages flapping in the wind. The T.V was on, although it only showed black static. There was no personal effects, no pictures. The apartment looked like it was a display model at some store.
A door at the end of the hallway was the only barrier to her continued sprint. The halls of the building itself had cheap carpet and cheaper lighting. If it wasn't for her heritage, she'd be stumbling around in the dark.
After running the length of the building, she came to a door with the number 023 spelt out in golden letters. She pulled out her sword and carves out the handle, ripping out the golden sphere before the weapon reached her back. She drew back her leg and rammed it into the centre of the door. It fell down and hit the floor, the crash echoing through the halls.
Stepping on the wood, she entered the second apartment. It's wasn't even close to the same condition as the first one, the paint was peeling off the walls, the air was cloying with the smell of ash, and she almost stepped on a nail as she rushed through.
There's no need to use her weapon on the next window, as there is no glass. Just a cheap curtain that barely keeps out the light, let alone a seventeen-year-old huntress running for her friend's life.
The distance between the buildings was short enough that she was able to leap across without any assistance. She managed to grab a glimpse of the battle raging below, and the mortars preparing to fire on Yang's position.
A weight fell into the pit of her stomach. Yang was tough, and wouldn't go down without a fight, but she wasn't invulnerable. That much firepower could take down anything short of an Atlesian airship.
She crashed through the window and landed on a cheap table. It groaned, and then broke in two.
Pushing herself to her feet, she brushed off the splinters of wood and glass stuck in her clothes. Even a cat can't land on their feet all the time.
...Note to self, see a doctor once she was out of this.
Blake walked to the door, and kicked it open. The halls were brightly lit, with tiled floors. Right in front of her was a fire axe, the glass shined to the point that she could see her face in the glass.
She looked like crap. Her face and arms were covered in bruises, many of her wounds from the explosion had reopened, and her ankle was beginning to swell. She couldn't feel any of it, but it was surely only a matter of time before the pain caught up with her.
An explosion from outside broke her out of her examination and sent her charging towards the other end of the building. Crashing through a door, she entered an empty apartment, the only furnishings a small phone hooked to the wall.
Out the window, she could see the barrel of the sniper rifle. It was peeking out through another window, one or two away from her current position. In between it and her was two more windows, a few metres of hallway, and whoever it was taking the shot.
You can do this.
Gritting her teeth, Blake jumped through the inch thick glass. The ledge leading to the next building grew closer, so she reached out a hand to grab it.
Her fingers brushed the lip of the concreate, and then she fell.
The air rushed through her hair, the ground growing ever closer. She reached out her hands, fumbling for a grip, before her arms grasped a flowerpot. Her body lurched downwards, wrenching the pots from their banister. She cried out in pain, her arms nearly ripped off her sides. Lifting her feet, she placed them on a window below her.
The sniper hadn't noticed her fall, still trained on Yang's position.
Blake reached up, and grabbed the ledge above. Her arm protested every movement, but she pulled herself up. Again and again she climbed, until she could reach out and touch the barrel of the rifle.
So that's what she did. Grabbing the barrel, she pulled down and tried to wrench it and its owner out of the window and down on the ground. Instead of a falling body and a splat, she instead was hoisted up and pulled in.
The snipers nest was dark, with piles of empty food containers and ammunition on every surface. This was all she could see before she was thrown against the wall; hard enough to crack her skull open if she didn't have her aura.
The sniper, a large gorilla of a man, said, "Gotta admit; I'm amazed you're still standing." His rifle separated into two short swords. "I'll be fixing that."
Blake snarled, and pulled out her sword. The sniper rushed her, swinging at her knees, but she jumped over. His left sword slashed above him, aiming for her neck. She quickly parried, and landed awkwardly behind him, her ankle limiting her movements.
He spun himself around, his swords shifting to dual pistols. Taking aim, he fired a volley of shots. Each bullet screamed past her ear as she dodged or deflected as many as she could, but one struck her in the knee, and another in the chest.
Undaunted, she shifted Gambol Shroud into its pistol shape and threw it into the wall. It stuck in by almost an inch.
The sniper laughed. "I thought you were a good shot!"
Blake gave him no answer beyond pulling out her sheath. She yanked her ribbon tight, and slipped under his next swing. Leaving behind a shadow, she drew the ribbon across his stomach, and rammed her hand into the cheap drywall, pinning him to the wall.
She walked out in front of him. Glaring at her, he spat on her feet.
"Is that all you got?" He yelled, flailing his swords at her. Before he could get another word out Blake punched his head into the wall behind him. She could hear the cracking of the wood as his skull crashed through it.
At least, she hoped it was the wood.
He had dropped both pistols, allowing Blake to pick them up. They were silver, with black leather handles. There was writing on the side, although the language was alien to her. The two blades were folded up under the barrels, along with dozens of metal bits and pieces. On the other side was the scope, awkwardly placed on the slide of the gun.
It was a standard pistol, if a rare model, heavily modified. Standard White Fang practise.
She tried to figure out how the two guns fit together. Truth be told, she hated weapons like this. Two pieces that joined almost always wound up jamming at some point, or refused to reconnect. Sure, Gambol Shroud could split apart, but the sheath was solid metal, no moving parts.
The blade on the left pistol clicked into a grove on the right, and the gun shifted into its rifle shape. Grinning, Blake took it over to the window, and stared down the barrel. Her experience with rifles was limited compared to her own weapon, but she knew how to aim it.
Down the scope, she saw a mortar prepping a shot. Even with her untrained eye, she could tell it would hit the store and obliterate whoever was inside. Which in this case, meant Yang.
She lined up the sights, and counted to three.
Breathe in.
Hold.
Fire.
BANG!
The shot didn't hit her target, the mortar itself, but it did hit the operator. He, or she, it wasn't apparent, fell to the ground, clutching his/her head. Blake felt a brief pang of sympathy. He/she was going to wake up with one heck of a headache.
She aimed at the mortar itself, and pulled the trigger back.
Nothing happened.
She pulled it again.
Still nothing.
She crouched beneath the window and examined the rifle. It… looked fine, so why wasn't it working?
Suddenly, she saw the thin black bulb, nestled just above the trigger. She let out a snort.
Bolt-action. Of course. Semi-automatic pistol mode, bold-action rifle.
Who designed this?
Pulling the bolt back, Blake quickly shot the mortar. A plume of multicolored flames and smoke rose up. The air filled with an echoing roar. The sound and light nearly forced her down, but she managed to keep her hands on the gun.
That's when she saw a flash of yellow hair blitzing at the group.
The moment the sniper fire switched from Blake to the enemy troops, Yang threw herself out of cover and into the mass of troops. She hated the peek-and-shoot style of combat, always had. This was more her style.
The first guy to notice, a shorter… something, she was barely paying attention anymore, lifted his pistol to shoot. Before he could get a shot off, Yang rammed a fist into his stomach, and when he bent over, knocked him to the ground with her elbow.
Guy-in-a-mask #1000 swung a sword towards her head. She only just managed to avoid getting the top of her hair sheared off.
He smirked, but that soon disappeared as she rose from the ground, small flames darting off her skin.
"You die now."
She threw her arms back and fired herself to her opponent. Landing right in front of him, she fired a shot into his chest. He stumbled back, his arm grasping at the area she hit, before he screamed some feral noise and charged her.
Surprised by the assault, she could only just get her arms up before he swung his sword downwards like it was a claymore. The blow struck her gauntlets, stopping it, but the impact still resonated through her body down to her feet.
Snarling, Yang threw an uppercut at his jaw. Then spun around him to launch him into the air. Launching herself into the sky, she flew over top him and smirked.
He barely had time to look terrified before she smashed both her fists into his surprisingly soft stomach. The ground fled from his landing, knowing what the consequences of fighting Yang Xiao Long entailed.
As soon as she landed, Yang heard the footsteps of another soldier. She turned around, ready to fire another burning shell into his face when she heard the crack of a sniper rifle. A moment later and the soldier was on the ground, clutching her head and moaning incoherently.
She cast an eye towards the far building, catching a brief glint off a scope. She gave Blake, for that was surely the person on the other end, a wink. h
More soldiers, a group of them carrying heavier firepower, ran up to her. She spied a few high-caliber rifles, more mortars, a few grenade launchers, and the odd assault rifle.
She threw back her arms, scattering shells everywhere. Pulling out new clips, she fed them in and fired herself into the group.
Landing on the mortar itself, she barely flinched when a high-speed bullet rocketed into the guy next to her. Yang fired a blast at the closest rifle guy, watching as his unconscious body flew across the field before landing in a mangled heap.
Where do they find these people? Rent-a-cop "R" Us?
A grenade slugged her in the cheek, before detonating less that a millimetre away from her skin. Even with her aura, she could feel the flames licking at her skin, begging to be let in.
Someone, presumably whoever had shot her, said, "That had to kill her, right?"
"No clue, just help me get this thing going!"
They thought she was dead.
Heh, suckers.
Waltzing out of the flames like they were nothing, Yang walked up to the two soldiers, both attempting to prep a mortar. One looked up at her, but before he could react, she fired a shot into his chest.
The other pulled out a pistol, and aimed it at her head. She lifted a fist and threw it forward, flinching back when a bullet slammed into his head. He sprawled out on the ground, clutching his head and screaming.
Yang grimaced. The bullet had hit his ear, and actually seemed to be lodged in it. Taking pity on him, she slammed her fist against his head, knocking him out.
A group of seven approached her, three armed with the high-caliber rifles, four with the smaller rifles. They spread out, circling her.
"Surrender!" one yelled. She had a high-caliber, its barrel less than an inch from the tip of her nose. A shot from that wouldn't kill her, but it would make it a bit harder to defend from the other six.
Yang did nothing but smirk, and glanced towards her teammate. Her smile vanished once she failed to see the glimmer of the scope.
Where was Blake?
Her question was answered once one of the soldiers lurched forward and fell to the ground. Standing behind him was Blake, both swords held high.
Mrs. Soldier turned to fire on her, but she couldn't raise her gun before Yang hit her elbow. Somehow, she still pulled the trigger, and bullets sprayed off into the night sky.
Yang grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back. She kicked her knees, and when she was on the ground she drew back her other arm and rammed it into the back of her head. She shrieked in pain, and then fell to the ground.
Meanwhile, Blake fought against two soldiers, one with a rifle, and one with a grenade launcher. At this range, their more powerful guns were more a liability than an asset, so she was able to easily out maneuver them.
A rifle butt swung towards her head, and to Yang's surprise, connected. Blake stumbled back, clearly dazed, and her two opponents lined up a shot.
Yang screamed out, and within microseconds, she crashed into the closest soldier. She lifted him over her head, and fired twice. He flew into the night sky, far higher than she thought possible.
Soldier two spun on his heels to face her, hoisting his grenade launcher to face her. Moving surprisingly quickly, he fired twice before she was able to react.
Running off pure instinct and anger, she swatted the first grenade away, and met the second with her fist. It blew up, sending flames and shrapnel across her flesh. A few shards cut into her skin; her aura was getting far too low for comfort.
Her attacker screamed, "Are you dead yet?!"
Yang stepped forward, coming out of the fire like a demon from Hell. Her hair, her skin, burned brightly.
His mask, broken from some earlier encounter, showed his two widening eyes. He stumbled backwards, dropping his gun to the ground. He brought up his hands to his face, and she could hear a quiet whimper.
Yang did not stop. She did not pause. She did not slow down. This man had hurt Blake, and that was all that mattered.
She threw a punch into his jaw, then another into his stomach. Then she went for the head again, bashing on it with both hands until his aura was gone. She kept going, not noticing the blood coating her hands.
A hand grabbed her arm. "Yang, stop!"
She turned to look, and saw Blake staring at her with a terrified expression. Her face was marred with dirt and blood, along with cuts and bruises.
"He's out, you stopped him," she told her. Yang looked down at her target, realising that, yes, he wouldn't be getting up again.
Not without a wheelchair, at any rate.
She looked up at the mortars being set up around them. Blake pulled out her weapon and started firing, but it couldn't take them out fast enough.
Yang grit her teeth, and stepped forward. She fired a round towards a nest, and watched in a cocktail of grim satisfaction and horror as it burst into flames. A second later, it exploded. The two men operating it ran, but she wasn't sure if they survived.
She turned her head and fired another shot. Each nest went up in smoke, the operators either disappearing, waiting, or dead. Her heart felt like hammer blows to her chest as it grew heavier, but there wasn't any other choice. Neither of them were in any shape to take on more soldiers.
Finally the noise stopped. The courtyard was empty. Craters littered the ground, along with bodies scattered everywhere she could see. Discarded guns, spent shells, and wrecked cars completed the look.
This was no longer a city. It was a warzone.
Blake bent over, gasping for breath. Her arms went to her chest, and Yang could hear an uncomfortable wet gurgle in her breathing.
"You okay?" she asked, and then walked over. "Forget it. Here." She laid her hand on her shoulder, and she slowly felt the aches and pains of the fight fade away. She still felt exhausted, like she had run a few thousand marathons, and on further examination
Blake pushed her arm away and stood up. "I'm good now. You?"
"Fine." Yang smiled. "So is that it?"
"I…" Her eyes widened. "No, no it's not. RUN!" she yelled, before two Bullheads came over the top of the buildings. Their guns spun up, and began to fire.
Yang threw herself to the side, trying to dodge their fire. They missed most of her, but she could feel a few bullets slam into her side. They didn't break the skin, but that was about all they didn't. The rounds they used were extremely powerful, equivalent to the kind of rounds Ruby used.
Ruby had a firing rate of about two or three a second. They could shoot hundreds in the same time.
Blake copied her strategy, although her semblance made it far more effective. Instead of running for cover, she instead ran for one of the few mortars still in operation. Once she reached it, she quickly set it up and aimed.
A bright, white spot flew out from its barrel, and arced towards a Bullhead. It tried to pull back, but it wasn't able to dodge the blast.
The cockpit erupted into red flames and charred metal. Yang heard screams as it fell out of the sky, crashing into the restaurant where the night had begun.
The second one, first focused on her, shifted its fire to Blake. She tried to take cover in one of the craters, but it soon hovered over her, blasting thousands of rounds into her hiding spot.
Yang threw herself to her feet, and drew back her arm. Her intelligent mind wasn't functioning, or else she'd be wondering what she was trying to do. Ember Celica was powerful, but a Bullhead was designed to take on missiles.
The orange blast flew through the air, crashing straight into the right engine. She was expecting nothing more than a scorch mark. What she instead got was a sudden boom as the engine collapsed in on itself, its casing destroyed by her shot. The ship spun over to its side, flames spewing from the destroyed engine. It went through the top of an apartment, and stopped just before it fell to the ground.
Both Yang and Blake stared at the flames shooting out from the roof. A few soldiers ran to the edge, but stopped before they fell off.
"Well…" Blake said. "That worked."
"Y-yeah, I guess it did."
She heard Blake pull out her scroll, but her focus remained on the destroyed Bullhead, and her hands.
"I can't get a signal."
Yang turned to Blake. "What? How? I can see the tower."
Blake angrily hammered at the screen. "I don't know why. If I did, I'd fix it."
"Well—" Yang was cut off when another truck rocketed past them. "More of them!"
Blake pulled out her sword. "I'm running out of ammo!"
"Yeah, I'm not doing so hot either." Yang threw her arms back and cocked a shot. "But I don't plan on giving up."
The truck flipped around, exposing the two back doors. Yang prepared to fire, but before she could get a shot off the two doors opened.
FWHP!
A mortar fired. She felt the round hit her in the chest. It didn't detonate, not yet, but it sent her flying across the field. After she was in the air, it finally blew up, and she rocketed into a building, smashing through six walls before coming to a stop in someone's refrigerator.
Far, far away from Blake.
"YANG!" Blake screamed, terrified for her teammates life. There was a chance she was still alive, but it was small. People weren't meant to take hits from artillery, even handheld.
Snarling, she turned to face the soldiers. Most have rifles aimed towards her, but they look nervous. Twitchy.
She's scared them.
Good.
She raised her blades, prepared to charge. They hold their ground, but they also don't attack. Why?
A sudden sharp pain in her skull provides the answer. She's on the ground, nearly out cold. Her head felt like it's being drilled into. Barely conscious, she managed to look up at her attacker.
Viola.
"That bomb was supposed to stop you, you know that?" she said, walking around her as she spoke. "It was supposed to put you in the hospital. I guess your friend, what's her name again, Yan? She saved you. Am I right?"
Blake can't talk, she can't move.
"Oh, don't bother. I can see your aura's almost gone. Any less, and that shot would have sprinkled your pretty little brain all over my men." She turns to the soldiers. "Tie her up, knock her out. I want to be gone in five."
"Yes ma'am."
rBlake weakly raised an arm in defiance to her captors, but they force it back down. They wrapped metal cables around her arms and her legs, pulling them tight enough to draw blood.
Tears stream down her face. It hurt; the soldiers clearly weren't trying to be gentle. Surprisingly, Viola comes to her aid.
"Hey, loosen those up a bit," she told them. "I don't want her losing any limbs."
They don't respond, but she can feel the cables loosen. Not enough for her to escape, unfortunately.
She feels a sharp prick in her neck, and something cold spreads down to her feet.
"Five millilitres," A soldier said. "Should be enough."
"Alright, you grab her shoulders."
"Got it."
"Lift." She's raised up, and unceremoniously dumped in the back of the truck. "And here we go."
A gun is pointed at her head. "Don't move."
Then the doors shut, and she can see nothing.
Viola sighed, and stepped into the truck. She turns to the two surviving soldiers in the backseat, a frown on her face.
"What happened?" she asked, her tone allowing no argument. "This was supposed to be a pick-up, nothing more."
The one on the left, a deer faunus holding an ice pack to his head, spoke up, "We came to the building, just like you said. We heard movement, figured it was them, and tried to shoot."
"And then…?"
"Yellow over there comes rushing out of nowhere, and they tear us apart. Then the response team showed up, and—"
She cut him off. "I know what happens after that." She pulls her head back and relaxes against the seat.
Truth be told, she's a little worried about how everything went down. The bomb she used should have least knocked them out, if not kill them. It wasn't the kind of explosives that you walked away from.
"Well, it's over now." She puts her key into the ignition and turns. "We've got Belladonna, so we'll go back to base and— what the hell?"
She stares at her rear-view mirror. Behind her, the building that Yang had been shot into seemingly burst into flames. A sonic boom echoed out, and out from the fire came a very pissed looking huntress.
The other two see her. "Oh shit! DRIVE!"
She doesn't need to be told twice. Flooring the gas, she pulls away from the courtyard in a cloud of dust.
The streets in this part of town are winding and narrow. The truck can't move very quickly at the best of times, and weighed down with four bodies and a mortar are not the best of times. Still, it's a car, and their pursuer is on foot. They're faster.
Then a blonde haired girl landed on their engine, nearly flipping the truck. She raised her head, and gave Viola a glare that she would never forget.
The two soldiers pull out a pistol and start shooting, but they might as well be firing spit wads. Yang ignored them and started smashing the engine.
"One of you, take the wheel!" Viola yelled, and leaped out the window. Grabbing the windshield, she flips herself around the land a kick on Yang's head. It sends the girl flying off the truck, but before she landed, she fired a shot and launched herself onto the roof.
"You!" she snarled, and threw her fists back. Viola could see the shots being chambered.
"Yep," she said, "Me."
Yang's never hated anyone as much as she hated Viola. Neo, Mercury, Adam, none of them come close to the sheer level of vitriol she has for the girl in front of her.
She had pulled herself out of the wreckage, running off sheer rage and fear for her partner. She saw her, saw Blake being tied up, saw her weapon tossed on the ground like it garbage.
Picking up Gambol Shroud, Yang watched as the truck sped away. On foot, she had no hope of catching up. Bumblebee was in pieces, or melted, or crushed or something. The other trucks were disabled.
The small part of her mind still thinking logically reminded her that she was in no condition to fight. Her aura was nearly gone; any tournament would say she was out. She couldn't though, not yet. Blake was in danger.
Besides, she still had one last card. Her limbs, her blood, all sang with raw power, her semblance turning every blow she'd taken into strength. She'd never had this much before, never enough to make her almost dizzy.
Or maybe that was the concussion.
Yang glanced at the mortars scattered across the field. If one of those could launch her into a building…
Her gauntlets thundered as she fired herself into the sky. She flew, straight over the buildings and onto a roof. Tiles flew off and cracks spread out. Barely pausing, Yang fired another shot, and jumped to another building.
Down on the streets below, a familiar truck rolled by. She observed it with an inquiring eye. Her anger grew, but she felt… calm, almost. Like the fire had turned to ice. Viola would die tonight, and she would do it with a razor sharp focus.
Didn't mean she wasn't going to rip her limb from limb, and parade her corpse down main-street, but she might make sure she's dead first.
Leaping off the building, she fired another shot and landed on the cab. She planned to disable the truck, but before she could, Viola got involved. Despite being thrown off, she returned to the roof before the truck got moving again.
So that's where she found herself, staring at the girl who had caused so much destruction. She wasn't wearing the same shirt she was before. Instead, she had a tactical looking vest, along with dark khakis. Her arms and legs had silver pistols attached to each joint.
Viola smirked at her, raised up an arm, and waggled her finger.
Yang threw a punch at it.
CRUNCH.
Viola clutched her hand, nearly falling to the ground.
"Son of a bitch!" she spat.
Yang took no mercy, and threw her hand at Viola's head. Her target dodged, grabbed the side of the truck and swung past her. Yang's hand kept going, and smashed through to the truck cab below her.
Viola smirked at her. "What? Am I moving too fast?"
"Shut up!" Yang pulled her fist out and threw another punch. Viola rolled under it, and sprung up, firing two shots out of her legs. Both hit her in the jaw, which really didn't help her growing headache.
Yang threw punch after punch, but Viola continued to dodge. She tried to take out her legs, but she leapt over her shot and landed without a noise on the other side.
"If you can't put out, just say so!"
This wasn't working. Viola was too fast, too agile, and more importantly, she was too tired to take her on. A single shot could probably put her into orbit, but that would require her to actually hit her.
On top of that, she was nearly out of bullets. Firing her way across the rooftops had nearly exhausted her last surviving clipc. Not that it would do much good, since she really didn't want to blow up the truck. Not while Blake was still in it at least.
What did all those action movie guys do when they run out of ideas?
Right, talk.
"Why are you doing this?" Yang asked, pulling herself to her feet. "Why lead her along, why pretend to care?"
Viola shook her head. "You really haven't figured it out yet, have you?"
"How would I have? You went from date to killer in ten seconds!" Slowly, Yang started to edge forward. If she could keep her distracted…
"Yeah, well, that's life." She smirked. "Besides, I wouldn't want to muscle in on your territory, now would I?"
Yang growled, and rushed forward. She threw a volley of terrifyingly powerful punches, but they were easily dodged. And that damnable smirk just. Never. Went. Away.
Viola kicked her, hard, straight in the stomach. She fell back, almost falling off the edge. The only thing keeping her up was one hand on the metal, and it was slipping fast.
Viola walked over, and prepared to fire a shot at her hand. Before she could do so, Yang hit her in the chest and pulled out Gambol Shroud, ramming it into the soft metal. With a tired groan, she pulled herself up.
"You're still going?" Viola said, eyes wide in disbelief. "Holy crap. How?"
"You're kidnapping my teammate." Yang unfurled Gambol shroud, and pointed both parts forward. The swords felt oddly familiar, like an old friend that she hadn't seen in years.
"I don't like that."
Faster than she could remember ever moving, Yang swung both swords at Viola's legs. The faunus jumped over them, and fired a shot at her head. Yang barely managed to jerk out its path.
She stepped forward, close enough to the other girl that she could feel her breath. Viola tried to kick her in between the legs, but Yang swept her foot away. A fist to the side of the head made her stumble, but she quickly cleared her mind and re-entered the fray.
Viola fired two rounds from her arms, both aimed to her feet. Yang's right foot moved to the right just in time, but her left caught the full brunt. She could feel and see the bone splitting, the blood pooling as the bullet traveled through.
"Running on empty?" Viola mocked. Yang responded by smashing both swords into her side and lifting. With no free hands, she continued the assault the only way she had left.
Head-butting. Right into her crotch.
Girls didn't have the exact same pain that a guy would have, but it still hurt when you were hit there. Viola gasped, and Yang flipped over, ramming her head into the truck roof.
With a grim smile, she walked over to her dazed opponent, and prepared a finishing strike. Before she could, the truck suddenly swerved sharply to the right. Yang stuck her blade into the ground, and held on for dear life.
Viola, somehow, got up. The truck continued to swerve, right and left, but her movements were completely smooth and effortless.
She pulled the sword out from the truck. "Goodnight, Yang." She kicked her off.
A trashcan broke her tumble, spewing a foul concoction of rotten food and dirty diapers on her. Yang shook her head and stood up, glaring at the fast-moving truck, and the still smirking girl clinging to it's top.
She tried to fire a shot towards it, but only received clicks. Her weapon was empty, her pockets were empty, she had nothing left.
There was a crack in the door, created when she had nearly fallen off. A gold eye peered out, staring straight at her.
If Blake spoke, it was swallowed by the wind. But the message was completely clear.
Why didn't you save me?
Yang fell to her knees. Tears rolled down her cheeks, wetting the ground with big, fat drops. Hundreds, thousands more fell, until she and the ground were soaked.
She failed.
She was a failure.