When I was a kid I saw Sonic and I was immediately scared because Me and only Me noticed that that blue fucker only has one fucking disgustingly mishapen eye. He has no Nose Bridge but he can somehow blink. He's a fucking chaos Daemon I'm telling you, you have to belive me he's going to kill us al-
...
At the center of the dry and insidious heart of Vacuos' wastelands there is Shade Academy. It is one of the four great academies of Remnant- prestigious in name and creed. It is responsible for churning out the next generation of Hunters- sworn defenders of their rusting kingdom of sand and shame. Shade Academy is ancient and powerful. From across the four kingdoms its name was known- its Hunters were some of the most fierce, capable, and rugged to have taken up the mantle of a slayer of Grimm. Molded by both the harsh landscape they were born in, but refined by the careful hands of the headmasters- changed into something else entirely- refined into an elite warrior capable of enduring the harshest elements that the wastelands of Vacuo could throw at them- endure them, and strive past to reap a toll among the Grimm.
Vacuo offered the only true protection to the innocents of Vacuo. Its shielding wake forced back the Grimm in ways that the other smaller academies could not. They had the resources, the manpower, the training and expertise. A great many renowned Hunters had their start at Shade Academy, venturing onwards into the wastes as proven warriors before their first mission even. For the regimental training of Shade Academy is harsh and unforgiving- it is not enough to pass- one must also survive.
These hallowed grounds of brick and mortar and sandstone, they are no longer what they once were in these dark and malicious times.
It used to be something incredible. It used to be a place of chances and learning. It used to reign in Vacuo as a prize gem example for all the poor and desperate places of the sand stripped hell that was the eastern Kingdom. Few things mattered in the wasteland regions; survival was the one king that bowed to the even higher authority that was Shade Academy. From its steps did order remain despite all of remnant wanting it dead. From its doors did the next saviors come and go. They guarded caravans so that distant communities may be nourished and resupplied with building materials and water. They enforced the law of the land on the rogue bandit groups that preyed on the weak and innocent. They eliminated roving groups of desert adapted Grimm- keeping their populations low and in control- as well as monitoring their movements. They brought a strangled sense of normalcy to a land where to falter for even a moment is to die by the hand of the earth.
In Vacuo- independence is a fiercely guarded virtue. To live under the yolk of another is a fate that death is preferable to. Yet still, the people of the sands let themselves be ruled by the tender ministrations of Shade Academy- for there was no other option. To dismiss them- to reject them- was to be left out in the cold. It is to be forgotten about and torn to pieces by the Grimm beasts that waited for such foolish adversity to arise.
In a ways the People of Vacuo traded one Tyrant for another more seemingly benign dictator. The headmasters were the real power in Vacuo, their hunters accepted their missions, their bounties. While anyone could request a Hunter, the mission did not go through until there was headmaster approval. In this way, the headmasters controlled the movements of their students and graduates.
Towns and cities curried favor to Shade, shipments and bribes, leisurely pleasures that few if any in Vacuo could afford. Ornate fountains of purified water, clothes spun from rare forest creatures in the Far East, even cutlery carved from the bone-plates of Death Stalker Grimm. These items of opulence were bequeathed unto the Headmasters of Shade Academy so that a single Hunter may visit their unfortunate homesteads. The Students reaped the rewards as well- to them, the academy became home. Under its roof, there was no shortage of water and food as distant towns shipped what they could afford in order to have the protection of Hunters, power was plentiful, and they had no need to worry at night- the claws of Grimm could not reach them there. In turn for this comfort, they risked their lives willingly.
Then, the CCT in Vale Fell.
No more message boards, no more shipments of food and water, no more Shade Academy.
That security they risked their lives for, was no longer there.
Hunters at the academy who hailed from the distant borderland communities left Shade overnight, making the perilous journey overland to go back to their homes, to protect their friends and families from rampaging Grimm that were called by the combined despair of an entire kingdom suddenly lost in the long dark. Headmasters tried to reign in control, they tried to establish some form of communication with the outside communities, they tried to call the outside world for help- nothing came through, and nothing made sense anymore. Shipments, food and water, they stopped arriving- or they became more sporadic as the days passed by.
All the while, Sodomah rose in power. The port city that no one thought would amount to anything made its grab for supremacy among the sands. They made their presence- and their intentions- known.
It began with armored caravans nearly hundreds of vehicles strong. Dune buggies and tracked crawlers freighting gallons upon gallons of water and food crept through the hell-sands of the wasteland. Night was awash with fire as caravan guards fended off savage Grimm beasts with mounted heavy machine guns- high caliber rounds smashed through chitin armor at range, cannons blasted apart backs of Grimm and port-watch soldiers fended off those that closed to the tracks of the Crawlers- trying to climb aboard- shotguns and flame-throwers sent them back down.
These armored caravans were archaic things used in darker times by the first dynasty of Vacuo. The tyrants would collect tribute from distant communities, hauling them back to their keeps aboard heavily armored tracked crawlers with heavy steel hulls, protected by flocks of fast moving scout vehicles and eight-wheeled land-fortresses. These ancient things were abandoned and left forgotten in warehouses spread about Vacuo. Hunters kept the wastelands clear of Grimm, no longer were such Caravans needed. The day the CCT fell, was the day that the aspiring men and women of Port Sodomah opened ancient warehouses, toolboxes, welders, hammers and forges were carted in behind them, and then the doors shut.
A fortnight past, and the Watchmen of Port Sodomah forged through the dusty sands of the wastelands on revitalized behemoths and brought, water, metal, weapons, food, and medicine to those who fought to survive. This single act of charity ensured that not only would there be those who owed Sodomah a debt- one that Sodomah would undoubtedly call upon in in the future- there would also be a plethora of customers in search of a safe way to transport materials and people across Vacuo. Perhaps more importantly then that, it showed Vacuo who they could now rely upon, who was in power.
It changed in a single moment- it changed when the first plastic bottle of filtered water passed the parched lips of a Shade Academy student that was when the balance of power changed in Vacuo forever. It changed, because in Vacuo, loyalty only went so far as you could provide for someone.
Not every Student in Shade Academy is a prodigy sent there by lofty parents in positions of sedate power. Most are vagabonds, fortune seekers, orphans who lost everything. They only went to the Academy because it was a place where they could ply there hard earned survival traits in exchange for bed and a meal. They had no true loyalty to the people there; they had no commitments, no ties to bind them down- they were children looking for shelter and stability. Shade was the corner stone of Vacuo- now it is not. They have met those who now hold power, those who can offer them what Shade can no longer provide.
…
"You… You can't!" He was actually starting to cry, his already puffy eyes red and swollen from the constant dust storms, began to water at the corners. "You can't just leave!" Harriet sighed, dragging her claws down the side of her face- feeling them furrow through the fine layer of dirt and grime that had accumulated over the course of the past weeks.
Her ears twitched in aggravation, her teeth ached and she stank like nothing else, her sensitive Faunus nose was beginning to run because of it. This first-year punk was really grating on her. She glanced back at the rest of her Team. Linda, Daphne and Yeager all shared similar expressions, Yeager in particular looked about ready to just put a javelin through this boys face.
"Alright, listen kid," Harriet snapped, cutting the first year students' quibbling off. "We're leaving whether you like it or not- we've had it up to here with this bullshit rationing, and bullshit academy. Shades' over, had a good run, but it's gone now," She snapped, the boy winced at her abrasive attitude. "Here's how it's gonna work out. We're gonna leave this shit-heap, we're gonna truck on over to Sodomah- they got some really nice deets' over there from what I'm hearing." They already had everything the needed for the trip too- they were on the front steps of Shade academy, the temple-like school was in the harsh and obscuring grips of a raking storm of sand. Harriet contemplated for a moment the ramifications of their leaving- Team Holiday were one of the best teams at Shade academy, in fact, after Krakan, Hornet, Danger, Timbre and Zodiac left, Holiday was the only team.
The only ones left aside from several teachers and faculty, were students- pathetic students at that. It was no wonder that Vacuo got whipped during the Tournament. It may have also been in part due to Vales Team, Ruby, she thinks they were called, a bunch of hard-ass cunts, they were. If this all blew over, and Shade was still standing, the survivors would be tough as nails. The next tournament would be Vacuos for the taking. It was a happy thought that didn't suit the situation. Some crying wussy first year and an unrelenting sandstorm that was libel to tear Shade academy apart, already the campus was deteriorating, lack of repairs and general dilapidation from misuse made it so that everything was falling apart in the harsh environment of Vacuos Desert.
'What was once wrought by mankind will be returned to the sands of times constructs.' Harriet quoted; it was something that Daphne said in one of her rare social moments.
"We'll die without you!" The first year blurted, the sand was really picking up now; the wind was ripping words away from their conversation. "The Grimm will-"
"You're starting to piss me off, kid." Harriet snapped. "You keep forgetting that I no longer give two fucks about this shit heap." Her lip curled up into a sneer. "This place can rot, Team Holidays' got a future, we aint' going to see that future grow if we stay here." Linda nodded in confirmation. Hell, it was her idea in the first place.
The kid shouted back at them, he was going on about something like honor and duty. Espousing morals like they meant anything in this day and age, he sounded like he believed it too, the shmuck.
"Lets get going, lads," Harriet waved for her team to fall in. They pulled the scarfs up over their mouths, trying to keep the oncoming sandstorm from ripping them to shreds- their heavy clothing and backpack rustled. "We've got ground to cover before the sun goes down. Onwards to Sodomah."
…
The sun rose over Sodomah. Bright and golden, light arrested the darkness, and illuminated a broken city.
Carnage filled the streets,
Sodomah was in pieces.
It would survive. She had to believe- had to make it so- that it would survive, or her gamble would just wind up being a death sentence. Seras Kyuli sat at the desk, staring down at the charts and maps and frustratingly obscure details listed before her. They were manifests and cargo logs of the storage facilities in the northern end of Sodomah- the only part that wasn't in tatters- thanks in part to the discretion of the soldiers under her command.
The North end was reasonably well-supplied, purified water and food stores, as well as a large motor pool by the north gates with an abundance of oil. They would be of much use to her plans. An entire part of Sodomah had been completely unmolested by the White Fangs assault, and she was in control of it. There was an unfortunate sting to that stroke of fortune, that sting was the twenty-six thousand, eight hundred civilians.
Nearly a quarter of them were Watchmen who had surrendered or were captured. A whole third of those civilians were Faunus, her people, the ones she was fighting for. She had hoped that her and her men would be able to curry their favor, but none of them seemed appreciative of the White-Fang 'Liberating' them. It didn't surprise her.
It probably had something to do with the south half of Sodomah currently being overrun with Grimm, and filled with the desiccated husks of their dead friends and family.
It had been nearly a week since Seras and her men arrived, skipping off the railcars and marching to the Northern Watch-Station like it was some form of victory parade. Civilians lined the streets; eyes wide and fearful, disarmed watchmen hung their heads in shame. The flag of the white fang flew above the north quarter, proud and fierce.
"Any trouble from the locals?" She asked, she leaned over her desk and grabbed a slim stack of manila envelopes and sorted several of the manifests into them. She put the envelopes into a respective pile; she'd have need of them later.
"Just the usual harassment, nothing violent -yet." One of her adjutants- a man she'd known for years that went by the name of Kiro. It wasn't his real name, he never told it to anyone- even her.
"What about our men? Any trouble from them?"
"You should no better than to think that they would question your orders- or your threats." She knew that as well, but she was now running an occupation. This was her city, her chance to make a dream only imagined come to life. She wouldn't have it ruined by racial bigotry on the part of her soldiers. She made it clear that any looting, assault, rape, murder, harassment and misconduct against the civilian population would be met with public execution.
So far, she'd only had to slit the throats of three of her men. They had always been a bit more radical than what she would have liked. It must've worked, there had been no further incidents, and she hoped that such a display proved some level of accountability to the civilians- that this wasn't some sort of dictatorship.
"What about the partition?" She was referring to the scrap-heap wall closing off the north quarter from the rest of Sodomah. It was manned by the majority of her soldiers- their duty was to watch for any Grimm coming up the rails.
"We had several more tries from Grimm last night. Death Stalkers, per usual. There were less of them than from before."
"Odd." She commented. "How are we doing for water?"
"Same as yesterday- we have more than enough."
"That's not enough."
"You said the same thing yesterday." Krio noted. "And the day before that."
"We're in a desert." Her argument was always blunt. "There can never be enough water. There was a purification plant in the South quarter. We need to secure it."
"We don't have the manpower for such an operation. There could be any number of Grimm crawling around down there."
Seras pushed papers off of the map she was using. Taking a pen she outlined the fairly large area of Sodomah that they now occupied. She drew a line signifying the partition, and outlined the railway that led through it- it was the same one they arrived on. The rails led to the upper south quarter, several blocks away is the water purification plant. It took in seawater, and slowly converted it into drinkable fresh water. It was the beating heart of Sodomah.
"All it would take is a small team to ride down and set up an outpost in the station. We could make runs from the plant and back; bring several drums with us each time and siphon off as much water as we can. Grimm will never know we were there."
Kiro pointed out the vast open area between the plant and the station. "Anyone running through that zone would be in the open and without cover. A Death Stalker would make mincemeat out of them- only a Hunter can outrun a Grimm." He looked up to Seras. "It can't be done."
"Yet." She was quick to add, her eyes focused on the 2D water plant. "Have the civilians bothered talking to us?" She asked.
Kiro shook his head. "Not anything major, you shouldn't trouble yourself with it."
"Humor me."
"Fishermen and Caravans keep asking to go out, been like that since we got here." He shrugs. "We tell the fishers to just cast off the docks, the Caravans we can't do anything for."
"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" Seras hissed; her tail slammed the floor as she glares daggers at Kiro. He instinctively takes a step back; to anger the Lieutenant was to risk execution. "I thought I made it clear that I want every complaint, no matter how small or seemingly ridiculous brought to my attention."
"Ma'am, they're asking to leave the city- they could be trying to start a resistance movement."
"Funny, I thought we're the resistance." She sniffed, "Have any off duty personnel assist them."
"Ma'am?"
"I must've not made myself clear- I said to help them with their jobs." She didn't mean to snap- but she felt like she was the only one looking at the bigger picture. "If we help them- it means we can gain their trust, if we gain their trust, we don't have to spend so much time watching over their shoulder- we become part of their lives- part of their routine."
She could always tell when something she said didn't sit well with one of her men- it was how they were silent, how their lips grew taut and back straightened. "Is there something you would like to say?"
"No, ma'am." Kiro said, clipped and curt. "I'll let everyone know."
"Make sure that you do." He left the office, door shutting behind him. She was alone again; the pale yellow-white walls of former Wardens office were blank and unadorned with any pictures or shelves. The only fixture to them was the window overlooking the Northern Quarter. The blinds were drawn; she always had them that way. Part of her thought that if she were to ever look out of them, that the Northern Quarter would disappear, and that she would wake up from whatever dream this was.
She walked over to the window and pushed the blinds to the side. The gunmetal grey and silvery white buildings and docks of the Northern Quarter called up to her from below and beyond. She could see shapes moving with purpose in the streets below- human shapes, humans and Faunus alike. They hawked wares from market stalls, pushed open doors into buildings, pulled handcarts through the streets, argued with each other and bickered endlessly over prices.
She pulled off her mask for what felt like the first time in years. She felt tired, old and decrepit. Yet, she felt like she could do anything. That there was nothing that could stand in her way now with her goal in sight- so patronizingly close- she could do this. She could make this work. It had been bloody, cruel and devastating, the path she had walked, but now on a silver platter before her was a city under her control- a city she could mold into something great, something that could change the world. Humans and Faunus, working together, even more, she could redeem the name of the White Fang- no matter how slightly. They didn't have to rule through fear.
She ran a hand down her face, the skin and scales intermingling together like diamond shaped stones on sand. It wasn't going to be easy, but nothing worth doing in life ever was. She had to earn their trust, had to make it so that working with her and her soldiers as the best and most attractive option. Had to make it known that the White Fang was here, and they were here to stay. Even more importantly, she had to make it as bloodless as possible. Those days were over.
She closed the blinds, and set her mask down on her desk amongst the maps and papers. She was smiling- she was looking forwards to this challenge, a challenge that didn't need to involve violence as much as it did coercion, tact and ample amounts of goodwill and generosity. It was almost like the old days when the flag wasn't so stained in blood and ash.
She wasn't willing to count her eggs just yet, but she honestly believed that this could work, that this could set an example to the rest of the White Fang once the CCT's went back online- or if something else came along and replaced them. Sodomah would be the proof that she needed, that the days of violence were at an end- that fear and anger weren't effective in the long term. That in order to make a change you had to make a stand- and you had to be obstinate. You had to get in their face, make it known that you weren't going to be pushed around, and that you weren't going to leave- but you weren't going to hurt people, you weren't going to stoop to that level.
She just had to play her cards exactly right.
…
ThiS MAkes My TinY Weinis InTo ThE SUPreME PenIS