A Remnant of a Greater Whole
A.N.
Apologies for this chapter taking so long, but as I'm sure I said somewhere else, I have been doing an exam year up till now. As such, most of my time has been taken up with studying, which means substantially less time writing. Then after the exams I lost most of motivation to do anything, so its only now that school has started back that I have mustered the energy to write. I'm quite grateful for all those who've taken the time to review this story, and since I have yet to draw any cries of heresy, I will promptly plough on with the next chapter of A Remnant of a Greater Whole. Right after the review replies though.
The God Emperor of Mankind: I will try and avoid any lore discrepancies, but I may miss some, so if see them, point them out. A lot of my knowledge on certain factions is drawn from the Warhammer 40k wiki, so I may make large mistakes when it comes to them.
BluePanedGasMask: This story will be featuring RWBY characters, and the Witch of Bastion gets revealed this chapter.
With that out of the way, I give you chapter two of A Remnant of a Greater Whole.
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"The gods besieged the mythic realm of the North, and for three days their assaults failed to breach the kingdom's mighty walls. The skies above where rent and torn by the gods Lightning's and Thunderbolts, as mighty Basilisks churned through the mud to spit fire at the mighty bulwarks. The gods themselves duelled the greatest heroes of the age upon the ramparts in a mighty test of strength. On the fourth day however, the gods tore through the gates, and the heroes were cast down at the foot of their broken walls. And so the North burned for its defiance, and the final battle was lost." – The Book of Remnant.
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Her mind registered the cold first. The surface she was lying on felt like a bed of icy fire, burning her with its chill. She tried to rise, but the movement sent a wave of agony coursing through her and she collapsed back down. She hadn't moved far of course, the restraints she could she feel around her arms and legs prevented her from so much as lifting her body an inch. Her mouth was as dry as the deserts of Vacuo, and a headache pulsed constantly through her skull. She didn't want to open her eyes, because if she did that she'd have to acknowledge whatever had left her like this. Her memories were fuzzy, but she was fairly sure that thing had been large, and had possessed pincers. A spasm ran through the protesting muscles of her left arm, which the restraint helpfully reminded her that she was immobile-wait restraints?!
She opened her eyes and winced as a blurry figure appeared in her vision, the indistinct features suggesting a monstrous visage. It would take considerable self-control for most normal people not to outright scream at the sight before them, but considering the way her life had been degenerating before now she didn't think she could be counted as "normal" anymore. Instead, she merely blinked, to confirm that what she was seeing was real, then ignored it completely. Her survival instincts had belatedly kicked in, and as her vision began to clear she surveyed her surroundings. Her limbs were tightly shackled to her sides by thick manacles, leaving her entirely at the mercy of her captors. The rest of the room was starkly lit, the harsh light glinting off the various medical tools and implements that lined the walls. A small workbench protruded from one of the walls, which was covered in several sheaves of paper. A quick tilt of her head allowed her to get a better view of them. What she saw made her blood run cold. Anatomical drawings of countless Faunus were carelessly strewn about on the desk, charting everything from their skeletal structure to a detailed depiction of their eyes. Several of the diagrams had mechanical parts grafted to the Faunus from what she could see, but what horrified her the most was how each Faunus bore a perfectly drawn face, their expressions of agony and terror included.
"I see you've noticed my collection, beautiful aren't they?" Her attention snapped back to the person who had been staring at her, and for the first time since waking she felt real fear coil around her heart. The creature that stared at her had a terrible beauty about it. The right half of its face was had an angelic beauty to it, with a bright blue eye and flawless white skin. All of his heavenly characteristics ceased on the other side of his nose though. Metal plates and wiring covered it, a mechanical horror straight out of a nightmare. A red artificial eye was located were his eye socket must have been previously, glowing ominously. A small round speaker had been built into his cheek, despite the fact that his mouth was perfectly fine. It was macabrely bizarre, both repulsive and strangely compelling. Above his strange features perched a neatly combed mass of blond hair, lustreless and limp.
It took her a moment to realize that the man had continued talking, apparently oblivious to her stares or lack of attention to his words. "-I am always so sad after a test subject expires, because then there's no more fun to be had with dissecting them. Screams are such pleasant background noises to honest work." His voice was…off she noticed, and it took her a few seconds to place why. While he spoke from his mouth with a lilting, pleasant tone, the speaker droned the same words in a toneless, robotic drone. The two voices overlapped to create a disturbing mixture that was maddening. "My research is progressing slower, less efficiently because of it, and while I find it… agonizing that I cannot pursue the Machine-God's will as fast as possible, one must take joy from one's work or the toil is worthless no?" He turned his full gaze on her for the first time, and it took all of her willpower not to flinch when his mismatched eyes settled on her. There was a harsh intensity in his right eye, a kind of sadistic brilliance that revelled in her obvious discomfort. His left gazed at her dispassionately, a steady gaze that analysed her coldly. It was a stark contrast to the barely restrained insanity that lurked on his human features, but everything about the man was based on opposites. The red robes he wore where the only thing that did not reflect the man's strange duality, though she could guess why. Red was a sacred colour to the Machine Cult after all.
The suspicion had begun to grow in her mind as soon as she had realized that she was strapped to an operating table. It had only heightened when she had seen the collection of…implements on the walls. The man above her was undoubtedly a tech priest, if his robes, features, and the way he so casually discussed cutting up live people for the glory of his god. It seemed that some of the horror stories about what happened to captured Faunus during the war had been true after all…
She was shook from her thoughts abruptly when the man reached down and slapped her. "I asked you a question, you worthless piece of Faunus filth!" his face had contorted in anger, his red bionic seeming to glare balefully at her. "I guess I cannot expect pleasant conversation from a heretical Faunus who is also a witch, thrice-damned that you are. It would be unfair to expect a beast that communes with daemons to be able to understand social niceties, I shall note that down for prosperity." Almost as soon as the outburst had begun it had ceased, his human features softening again. She looked at him bewildered, and if it wasn't for the reddening mark on her cheek, she wouldn't have believed that what she had just seen had happened. He turned his back on her, and moved over to his worktable. His strange double voice drifted over to her as she lay there, her head buzzing with countless questions. "You are an incredibly rare specimen; do you know that? While many Faunus have passed beneath my blades, none have been witches. I wonder how a connection to demons has further mutated your body away from the holy form of man. I simply can't wait to operate on you, the very thought makes me ecstatic."
She tried to suppress the pang of horror that ran through her at those words. He was going to dissect her, and judging from the pictures she would suffer horribly while he was doing it. She shivered as he held a scalpel up to examine it, and closed her eyes. She had no desire to see him cutting her up if she could help it. The rustling of his robes signaled that he was beside her now, and she tensed slightly. Perhaps if her Aura was at full strength she'd be able to stop him slicing her open, but she could barely feel a trickle, not even enough to stop a pin, let alone a knife. Was this how she died, far away from what remained of her friends, being taken apart by a tech-priest for his research?
She felt his hot breath on her cheek, and then a band of cold metal clicked in place around her neck. Her eyes shot open once more, and saw the vicious amusement that glimmered in his human eye. "Unfortunately, the king still has use for you at this time, and even a tech-priest such as I must obey his orders. That is why I've taken the liberty of placing that explosive collar around your throat. Attempting to remove it will result in a detonation that I estimate will theoretically punch through that Demonic shield of yours that the Scriptures mention. If this detonator is used" he held up a slim rod "it will have the same outcome. Disobeying orders will give the holder of the detonator the right to terminate you." He delivered these words with a solemn tone, his expression serious. "And if that happens you'll go boom!" A manic grin blossomed on his face, and he laughed, all trace of his prior solemnness gone. She lay there stunned, absorbing the deluge of information that had poured from the man before her.
She was the captive of a madman, who would've cut her open if not for the fact that some "king" wanted her for something. Her heartbeat began to slow down when she released that for now she was safe. That very act was what roused her suspicion. The sudden fact that it seemed as though her life had been in jeopardy moments ago, and then she was suddenly spared? By order of the local ruler no less? It seemed strange, especially as the fact the tech-priest was allowed to casually operate on live Faunus without repercussions indicated that the regime she had found herself in didn't care much for Faunus. The king wanted to manipulate her, make himself seem like someone good or just by stepping in and saving her.
For a moment she felt like lashing out, thrashing around, screaming at the unfairness of her life, that rather than waking up to her friends' visages, she was stuck in some nightmare place were Faunus were vivisected by insane people. Then her more logical side kicked in. What good would that kind of behaviour be? Tantrums had never gotten her anything, why should it do anything for her now? Her best bet was to play along with whatever scheme the king had in store for her until she got a chance to bolt, then she'd run. She could be patient when she wanted to be, a trait that had served her well during the war. With the ease of something well-practiced, she shoved the images to the back of her head. She didn't have the luxury to reminisce about those days now, not that she ever wanted to. That chapter of her life was over, and that was that.
Another smack from the tech-priest brought her back to reality. Blinking slightly, her head ringing, she belatedly noticed that her restraints had been undone by the scowling Magos. "As much as I wanted to examine how your cat-like ears work, and the many hours of fun exploring your brain we could have had, the king is not someone that likes to be kept waiting."
She sat up eagerly, and for the first time caught a full glimpse of what she was wearing. The clothes she last remembered wearing were gone, replaced with a dull brown tunic and accompanying trousers. On her feet were a pair of sturdy black work boots. The metal collar clung to her neck, a constant reminder of her status as a prisoner. The tech priest grabbed her arms and slapped a pair of manacles onto them. A small chain connecting the two heavily restricted her hand movement.
He hauled her to her feet, and roughly dragged her across his laboratory. She yanked herself out of the man's grasp, breathing wildly. The tech priest looked at her strangely, seemingly confused by her behaviour. Then he shrugged and strode forward, opening the door with an ease that riled her. She hated being restricted and caged. She'd had more than enough of that in her life.
A man in dull khaki armour stood outside, his dull features twisting in distaste at the sight of the red robed man in front of her. He brightened slightly at the sight of her though, oddly enough. "You took your time, honoured Magos, the king is waiting" he said. The tech-priest returned the vehemence, his eye sparking with malicious glee. "Don't speak out of place, Faunus, the king should not presume to rush the rituals of the Machine God." She was somewhat startled by those words, and gave the man another look. His green eyes seemed human, as did his wavy brown hair. His teeth however, were elongated, standing out in his tanned face. Any other animalistic features he possessed were hidden by his armour and clothes.
She realized that she was staring, and quickly turned her gaze away. The tech priest looked at her with another of his strange looks, than snapped a quick "Hurry up!" She was forced to lengthen her stride to match his relentless pace and the guardsman feel into a steady lope beside her. The hallways they passed through were sparse and barren, decorated by the occasional cog or mechanical skull. Wooden doors marked the walls at regular intervals. A few more tech priests passed them by, giving her and the guardsman disapproving looks. If they deigned to look at them at all. Eventually they reached a large gateway, carved entirely from dark metal. The Machine God's symbol was picked out in brilliant gold. Two guards, dressed in a black version of the guardsman's armour opened them as they approached.
They stepped out into brilliant sunlight. She took a deep breath, savouring the fresh air after the staleness of the indoors. She stood on a stone walkway, carved into a vast cliff. Below her a large city sprawled, brightly coloured and dotted with trees. The architecture was similar to Mistrals, full of small houses and thatched roofs. It was a marked difference from what Vale had been like. She ignored the stab of pain thinking about Vale caused. There was nothing but ashes to go back to anyway. The tech priest hurried her along the walkway, into another building that towered over everything below. She guessed it was the palace.
She only caught glimpses of ornate decorations and statues, before they were ushered into a large state room. An oak table sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by important looking officials and soldiers. She noticed maps of the surrounding area on the table, but the scale was far too small for her to figure out where in Remnant she was. They seemed to have walked into the middle of a heated discussion, as a tech priest and what appeared to be a high ranking soldier argued. "I have told you again and again, Guard-Captain first rank, Thanos Underwood, that the forge cannot produce a las gun for every able bodied person in the city. Not in three months, and certainly not with the equipment lost during the battle. It is unreasonable and illogical to continue accosting me when I have clearly dictated the facts to you." The Magos voice was an angry buzz of static.
The Guard-Captain responded with indignant gusto. "You have extensive mines operating within the city, plenty of acolytes and a deadline with severe consequences should you fail, Fabricator. What more do you want? Surely you believe that the Machine God will aid you in the defence of this holy city. Or is your faith in the Imperial Pantheon lacking?" An angry smirk had found its way onto the Captain's face.
The Fabricator bristled, his myopic red eyes flaring brightly. A burst of static signalled that he was about to respond-." Enough." The voice was quiet, almost unheard, but there was an undeniable authority to it. It was the tone of a man who expected obedience, and wouldn't tolerate its absence. Instantly the Fabricator's rage seemed to vanish, and his eyes dimmed once more. The Captain's features tightened, the smile sliding from his face. There was suddenly no trace of the argument that had been happening beforehand.
"Captain Underwood, I'm sure that the tech priests will deliver more than enough weaponry to defend Bastion with. Fabricator Iron, I am sure that the Captain's insult was not intended in the slightest. Was it dear Captain?" The broad features of the captain had begun to sweat slightly. "N-no, my liege." She connected the dots immediately, and it did nothing for her nerves. The king of "Bastion" did not seem to be a forgiving or merciful character, if he could intimidate one of his military aids with ease.
"Excellent, I'm glad we sorted out that little disagreement. In the future do try not to waste twenty minutes of my time with pointless bickering. I find it rather tedious. Especially when we are expecting a guest. Magos Thule, I thank you for tending to her when she awoke. Guardsman Henderson, I cannot express my sincere gratitude for escorting her to me. I give you leave to go now, and suggest you prepare for the journey." The words were said with sarcasm masked with eloquence. Henderson and Thule both bowed, and left, though Thule passed the detonation device to a nearby servant. The servant scurried towards what she assumed was the throne and handed it to the king. That was when she got her first proper glimpse of the king.
He watched her with familiar amber eyes that had haunted many of her nightmares. The hair was wrong though, a motley orange that a certain mobster had possessed. The cock-sure grin all but confirmed it. Her breath caught in her throat, and her mouth was dry.
"Back to the matter at hand, ladies and gentlemen of the Council of Bastion, may I present our prestigious guest? I promise she won't disappoint. The Butcher of Vytal, the woman who slew demi-gods, the Witch of Bastion, the one, the only, Blake Belladonna!"
Blake felt trapped, as though the world was closing in around her. A dark thought began to surface at the back of her mind. The king noticed this, and his smile only widened and grew colder. "It would be rude of a royal personage like myself not to tell you my lineage. I am Vincent Torchwick, son of Ash and Georgia Torchwick, with Ash being the son of my grandfather, Roman Torchwick. I believe you knew both him and dear old grandmother? Or at least of her? You failed to save her life after all. My grandfather never forgave you for that, you know?" The false joviality had slipped from his voice, revealing the hatred beneath. "Nana always was resilient though, being the Fall Maiden helped quite a bit with that."
Blake fell to her knees, overwhelmed. How long had she been asleep? Where any of her friends alive anymore? Had they thought her dead when she had simply disappeared? She was too distraught to notice that Vincent had risen from his throne and was walking towards her. He grabbed her hair and forced her to look at him. "Figured it out, have you? The things that made your life worth living torn away and gone. Now you know how my grandfather felt when his wife died." He drove his knee into her stomach, and Blake felt the air rush from her lungs. She gasped, and struggled to breath. She wanted to run, flee, escape from the horrible reality in front of her. She would never see Ruby, Yang or Weiss ever again. She felt weak and dizzy, her thoughts were in disarray.
"I admit I don't have the best control of my temper, and right now I would like nothing better than to shoot you now." He placed the barrel of a las-pistol to her temple, while the Council watched impassively. Blake tensed when she heard felt the gun touch her head. Fear ran through her veins, but a small voice was whispering that dying would end the nightmare she had woken up in.
"Unfortunately I have dire need for your particular talents to find my missing son. You succeed, and bring him back alive, and I will consider the debt that you owe my family paid. Saving one family member in place of another that you allowed to die seems fair, does it not?" The las-pistol was suddenly pointing towards the floor. It discharged violently with a whine, burrowing a hole in the marble floor. Blake started, flinching away from the scarlet line. "If you fail in returning my son safely, then you suffer the same fate as the floor. Fitting for Faunus scum, wouldn't you say?"
Vincent turned away from her, walking back towards his throne. "Oh, one more point I should mention. Only you and the leader of this little rescue mission know about the objective to retrieve my son. The others believe that you are simply to make an alliance with the heretics to the north. While that is another little errant you can run for me, as interest on the debt I am collecting, it is not the true reason you are being brought along. I trust you will remain discreet about this, otherwise, off with you head!"
"Guards, bring her to the tech-magi's workshops, she needs to be properly prepared for her journey." Strong arms gripped and lifted Blake up, and she didn't resist. She was still in shock from realizing that all her friends were no more. Her last sight of the throne room was Vincent handing the detonator to a servant, staring cruelly at her all the while. Then the doors closed and his vicious gaze was cut-off. Blake didn't even notice the tears that fell down her cheeks. Her friends were gone, and there was no returning them.
You guys hate Vincent yet? Apologizes for the very late chapter, but after the stress of an exam year I needed a nice long summer break. Besides, these chapters take quite a while to produce, as I much prefer to take my time with this story, since I find I have less corrections to do later on. I recommend listening to the RWBY volume three music or the Warhammer Radio app if you have that instead, while reading. Read and Review, and please if you have any quotes you think will work in the story don't hesitate to send them to me.