Mwahahahahh!
~Angel and Hel~
Chapter Nineteen: Last Stand
-.-.-
Rabid. Feral. Tenacious. There were many ways to describe the behavior of the Grimm but organised and strategic were not the first to come to mind. Nor were self-preserving and vindictive.
But that's what they were.
She could see it, in hindsight. Whenever a Grimm had only been injured, not killed, it would back away from the fray, lick its wounds as another took its place, just hanging back, waiting, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Aura could only hold for so long.
Then the pain began.
They were surrounded, entirely, utterly. Maverick's work was thinning the horde but it wasn't enough, wasn't enough in the slightest. The sky was still swarming with fliers, constantly diving, some of them bombing with their own bodies as the payload. The streets were thick with creatures, all of them wanting nothing more than to see the last stragglers of a dying city burn.
As for the defenders -
She, Slade, and Aphoth might as well not have been there. Aphoth's soldiers had been almost ripped to nothing, only the tattered shade of Ash still remaining. The figure with the crossbow was shooting the larger creatures, even hurling some of them out of the fight with their chains - but more always returned, and the horde as a whole wasn't reduced. The cat faunus too was taking down the Grimm, one or two at a time, but against such numbers -
Only the third newcomer seemed to revel in it, launching into the horde with wild swings of their sickle again and again, always seeming to emerge almost unscathed. But the injured Grimm were replaced, the dead climbed over, and they kept on coming.
So. They were going to die. What could Winter do to slow that down?
She had a shop, full of Dust. Maybe not full of it, maybe not as high quality as she would have liked, but enough to do something impressive. Off the top of her head, she could try accelerating her fellow Hunters - which would leave them vulnerable when the effect faded and they likely hadn't trained under temporal dilation - could freeze or scorch or blast any number of the horde - but not enough to matter - could improve her team's mobility - again, untrained -
She gritted her teeth. She had to try.
One foot in front of the other, proper form. Even without her sabre. Fingers shaping the symbols necessary, one foot tracing out the path - "Like a dance, daughter, a focusing technique. You shouldn't need to use this, but since you cannot master it… " - light trickling off her form as the Dust around her was consumed, releasing its power shaped by her aura…
Three clocks. One under each of the Hunters. The hands spun from twelve to twelve, and they became golden blurs. At the same time, spikes of shattering rock and ice, launched from the ground, columns of searing steam, and gravity holding the Grimm suspended so they couldn't move forward under their own power. A flick and she used the last of the purple-black Gravity Dust to create a crushing zone of force on the streets leading up to the shop, enough for the Deathstalkers scuttling forward to collapse under the weight of their own exoskeletons, pincers crumpling in on themselves.
It spread like a wave, a tsunami of destruction, catching everything that was there and everything that tried to jump past it. Car alarms, what few hadn't already been set off, quickly filled the air before being destroyed. The area around the shop had been reduced to rubble. To dust.
The streets ran red with the steaming blood of Grimm, filling the air with the noxious scent of death and decay. The sickly sweet of rot.
Chains lashed out, whipping themselves into a frenzy and cutting through the encroaching waves - a golden blur hit every straggler, bouncing off the walls and their heads and leaving them crumpling with the force of every strike - a whirling maelstrom of death and gore held the third front, carving up any and all flesh in sight in a bedazzling display of crimson genocide.
The smell of iron and charred meat. Of boiling, bubbling flesh.
Too soon it wore off, but space had been cleared. Time. Winter smiled, just a little, went to look for more Dust -
There wasn't any. She'd used - too much earlier, fighting Maverick. There wasn't enough to do this sort of thing again. She could do some things. A few empowered glyphs. But not enough to do that again.
Slade had hauled himself to his feet. "We should set up kill points. Actual barricades. Something like a mountain pass, so not too many of them can get to us while we can get to them. Surface area." Absent mindedly he slashed a pair of Vespyrs from the air.
The next wave of Grimm was… holding back. Gathering, would be a more accurate term. She'd never seen - never heard of them acting like this. This was… this wasn't an act of corrupted nature. This was organised. This was… planned.
The notion sent chills down her spine.
Aphoth was supporting herself on Slade. She shared a look with Winter. She'd noticed too. Ash's shadow was beside her, flickering from its injuries, staring into space. A cold, pale imitation of the active, cheerful girl she'd once been.
"She okay?" The cat faunus gestured at it, panting. The end of her tail was missing, and she was clutching her stomach.
"She's dead. This is… an echo. A remnant of a song that's stopped playing. But these echoes will rock these fuckers' worlds." Aphoth's grin was savaged. "Prepare. I'll herd them to you." She spun the staff. Shadows were melting off her form again, Grimm rising from their graves in the street out in front - but instead of engaging, they were moving around, into and through the buildings.
"How far is your control range?" Winter blinked a little. She wasn't going to cry. They were dead anyway, and this might give them an advantage.
"Not far enough to do that from here. Make it - make them pay. Make them pay in blood."
The bloodstained figure in the overcoat and hat chuckled in agreement.
Crossbows nodded, chest heaving. They were struggling to hold their weapons up.
Aphoth nodded at Ash. Then - she was blurred out by a wave of sound that launched her over the Grimm, her shadows moving with her, Ash herself advancing. Screams and crunches.
"Quickly." Winter's mouth was dry. "We won't have - "
Another burst of light. Winter dropped the guns, jammed her fingers in her ears and slammed her eyes shut and curled into a ball on the ground. Low profile, low target mass, protect her senses, quicker recovery meant she could get back into the fight sooner.
Shaking her head, trying to stand again. Earth Dust. There was still some earth Dust left, walls of rock around the entrance -
It'd started to rain. It was odd. Usually it snowed. The heat of - heat of battle, of the burning city, of the magma the Wyrms dug up - it must have melted it. She wondered why she put so much thought into figuring that out. Coping method…? No, she needed to focus.
Two roars, different from the rest.
More… human. Human - one like thunder, one like a wolf howling at the moon. Animalistic. Primal, both of them.
"I thought they were dead!" The cat faunus - Krypton, she'd seen her earlier. Before the red path. Seemed like - so long ago.
"We don't die easy, cat." A familiar low snarl. Titian.
"A greater fate awaits us." A voice echoed by metal coated in steaming gore. The pitterpatter of rain bouncing off everything.
It was raining, hard. Lightning and thunder in the distance. Aphoth and her shadows barely visible in the horde of Grimm, barely distinguishable. Black on black, leaking shadow on leaking shadow.
Suddenly half their number disappeared. The shades, dissipating.
Aphoth was dead, then.
Winter's throat tightened. She wasn't sure why.
Yolona stabbed her sword into the ground, held the hilt in both hands as she lowered her head. "Proelium exequat in caelo. May you fight on in Promethium."
"Don't have time for that, as sad as it is to say." Slade leaned on his sword.
Winter nodded sharply. "Defences. Or something to slow them - "
A Manticore landed in front of the shop. A second followed it. A flock of Gryphons too.
"Or that could happen," Krypton said, fists flashing up.
Momentary peace was over.
"GET INSIDE!" Yolona roared, pulling her sword out of the ground and swiftly counting a Manticore's swipe by cleaving its forearm off. Winter's hands were shaking as she rushed back inside, towards safety - no, not safety, a bunker, a -
"Help me with the door!" Titian yelled, pushing at the heavy metal slider. "We need - "
The rest was lost in a crash of concrete as part of the store caved in under the Grimm's assault. Winter was already moving though, forcing her tired limbs to push against the wall of steel, moving it into position. Titian had embedded her fingers in it to get a grip strong enough to slide it into place. Slade was blurring again, the blurs firing that giant pistol of Maverick's - beyond the closing gap, Winter could see Yolona, her helmet knocked away, Krypton and the bloodstained Hunter fighting beside her.
Teeth bared, face caked with old blood. She looked every bit as terrifying as Winter had imagined. Fighting well with the bloodied madman. Krypton stunning, dazing, knocking off balance for them to close in for the kill.
Teamwork. That would - that would get them through this. Just a little bit longer. Work with each other's strengths, cover each other's failings -
Slade, Titian, Crossbows, herself. Four left.
She had her glyphs. Titian had her sword and… something. Crossbows she knew too little about. Slade had Maverick's pistol and his clones and sword. She needed to - needed to secure the roof entrance.
Stumbling up the stairs. Had she said she was doing that? She had Maverick's gun in her hands, Slade was coming with her. Crossbows too.
Titian was all alone - a thundering crash and the shrieking of metal scraping on metal send her sprawling over the stairs. Y- Yolona had been thrown through the barricade. The Grimm outside were in the middle of their victory throes, the Beowulves howling, embracing the blood of fresh kills.
"Bastion!" Titian's voice was a howl. Yolona's body stirred, tried to stagger upright. One arm was gone, her armour torn and mangled metal dripping blood.
"Still… have fight left in me…" her voice was little more than a wheeze. Winter watched, frozen. Her heart beating too loud in her ears, her hands shaking, her breathing shallow. Yolona's sword changed, and Winter's hairs stood up on end as static electricity filled the air.
A tugging on her shoulder. Right, right, move - move to the rooftop. Secure… secure it. Why did she need to secure it there was nothing left to -
Maybe she was just being selfish. Wanting to see the sky one last time before she died. To see the coast, the ocean. To breathe in one last breath of crisp Atlesian air.
Nothing wrong with that. She levelled her gun, fired at the Grimm she could see. Avos and Slade were shooting too, their progress up the stairs slowed. Slade was ahead of them, turning towards the door - fire escape it was labelled, and that was almost funny - his shoulder rammed into the lever, opening the door onto the dark skies. He was shouting, "Nearly ther-"
Lightning struck, and Winter caught the barest glimpse of orange and black before the thunder rolled over her and something slammed into her. She leaned back, kicked up her leg. Basic roll the aggressor over manoeuver. Her assailant was sent tumbling down the stairs as she righted herself - something slammed into her chest - she caught it on instinct -
It was - it was -
Winter dropped Slade's head. It tumbled away.
Crossbows gasped, staggered forward against the railings - then a blur, something, knocked them over and down into the room below. A smack on her own aura, she slipped backward, onto the roof - the rain made the ground slick and she slipped as something hit her leg. Her aura fell, and the next strike hacked into the flesh of her upper arm.
She couldn't - what was attacking them?
More lightning. A charred Vespyr fell onto the rooftop, Winter following it's steaming trail -
Maverick. Her heart skipped a beat. His skin was pale, diseased, his veins black and fighting against his skin. His face - it was like it was shattered, cracks of vicious purple-red, pulsing. Black eyes, glowing orange irises. And that grin. It was like a shark's. All teeth. Manic. Rabid.
A slasher smile at its finest.
He was hunched over, his breathing shuddered. Something on his back, fur and scales and horns, glaring at her with red eyes from a skull of white. Neither of them blinked. It was unsettling.
She only saw him for an instant in the lightning. Then he was blurred again, only faint after-images visible -
She managed to dodge the swing of Ash's axe-guitar. Tried to fire a shot, but he was already gone. She flicked wet hair from her face. He was already coming again, using his speed, using the time she took - she managed to just about block the blow with the gun but it broke from the force, sending her stumbling - the afterimages, could she track him?
Behind her - she barely ducked in time, felt the pull of the blade on her hair, it was blunted. Didn't cut cleanly. Still, she felt the wetness on the nape of her neck. A little slower and she would've been Slade. Blue's rifle slipped into her hands - she still hadn't loaded it, would have to use it like a club. That would do, maybe. Wide, area denying swings -
He arrived in the gap between them, axe sinking into her stomach. She screamed, a glyph appearing to knock herself back in a spray of blood - oh god it hurt, is this what Blue had felt like when she was being ground apart by the stone, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt.
A flash of heat and light. Someone else up there, sword ablaze. Titian. Her dagger-grapnel allowed her to evade Maverick's next attacks - and she was already spinning down from midair, a whirlwind of flame following her. She landed next to Winter, and then there was sizzling and more pain and Winter screamed, but she wasn't bleeding any more.
"We need a strategy." Titian flinched as a series of fast attacks, barely visible under the flashes of lightning, rended her armour. "Now."
"Area denial. Set the - " Winter spat out blood. "Set the roof on fire. Fewer places to go."
He was so silent. She could imagine his haunting laughter, berating her for even thinking she had a chance. He was wrong he was wrong she did have a chance and she was going to take it oh god it hurt it hurt so bad -
Light. Warmth in the chilling downpour. Sizzling rain. Steam filling the air. Reduced visibility. But he'd make a shadow, he had to. There, against the fire, a flash of a figure, three figures almost with how fast he was moving. She had enough time to prepare a block, a counterswing. "More!"
He was there and gone before the strike even connected. But she'd done it. She'd stopped him from hitting her again. In the back of her mind, a perverted echo of his voice rang through her head like a taunt. "I can play keep-away all day, Princess."
"Well I can too." Winter grinned. Titian was setting more fires - she staggered as she was struck but a sweeping strike spread more flame, sent Maverick backwards. Half the roof must be ablaze by now. He'd have nowhere to -
Maverick dived out of the flames at her, on fire, swinging twice. She barely blocked the first, diverted the second so it merely scraped her leg. A cry from Titian as he hit her too, hamstringing her.
The Geist. She'd been fighting like it was Maverick she was fighting but it wasn't. It was his body given will by the Grimm - and the Grimm didn't care about any damage to him. Another cry from Titian.
The Geist was the target. She had to - get it. Not Maverick. What did - what did she know about them. Didn't like cold. Didn't like electricity.
The start of a plan. "Titian, I need you to - "
Crack.
She couldn't breathe. Her mouth gaped, no sound coming out nor air coming in. Her knees felt… weak. She staggered back a step, collapsed. One hand to her side - it was wet. She could - she could feel it flowing freely between her fingers. It hurt. Dear moon above it hurt.
Her chest felt squishy. The whole thing felt like it didn't move - she couldn't - she tried to breathe -
Titian shouting something. Maverick standing over her, looking down on her, reloading and pointing it right between her eyes.
So - so this was it. Time seemed to stop. Slow down. She couldn't quite tell the difference. The ringing in her ears never ceased. The pain seemed tenfold - no, hundredfold. His manic grin twitched. The Geist at his back hissed approvingly.
She was going to die.
And then Titian was there, her sword filled with lightning - the Geist was flinching away, Maverick trying to turn in time and she had just a moment to fumble out on of Blue's clips, radiating cold - Maverick struck Titian down, the yellow light fading, already turning back to her -
His back froze. He screamed as ice punched into him, but the blackness was held in it, the veins already sliding from his face.
She'd done it. It was so cold.
"It's not real it's not real it's not real-" Maverick was hissing, growling, as though he couldn't decide between despair or anger. Heaving in breaths as the Geist shrieked and clawed at the air, impaled on shards of ice. "It's all wrong the people the places the -" he coughed up red. "The semblances are wrong the - everything - everything is wrong it's not real IT'S NOT REAL!"
He flexed his power again, falling to his knees, placing his last shot into the chamber. He laughed, head thrown black, blood speckling his face.
Winter couldn't even tell if her heart was still beating.
His hands were shaking. Still heaving, gulping in air, water from the rain. He was bleeding from everywhere Winter had impaled him. He was shaking his head. He couldn't look at her. He was - he -
"It's not real," he whispered with a manic smile on his face, tucking the gun under his chin.
She couldn't look away.
-.-.-
Ohhhh boy, next chapter's going to be a biggy! Do let us know what you think~
~R&R?~