Silence hung in the cell like a cold March fog. No sounds came from outside, save for the faint hum of the lights in the hall. Nora shifted her weight in an attempt to relieve the pressure on her wrists, but only managed to transfer it all to one of them. She grimaced, returning to a position that distributed the weight between both wrists, and huffed. She looked to her left and frowned at the form huddled against the wall.
Coco had stopped shouting some time ago and simply hung in place. Her breathing was so subdued Nora couldn't tell if she was even conscious. Nora leaned over and hissed at her:
"Coco, snap out of it."
Silence. Nora pursed her lips, then shuffled as close as the manacles would permit and tried again:
"I know things are bad, but there has to be something we haven't thought of. I know we haven't seen eye to eye—"
"Nora, I'm sorry."
Nora blinked. "You're sorry?"
Coco continued, her voice limp and resigned: "For what I said about your team, in the village by the cliffs. I haven't been comfortable with our lack of familiarity as a unit, even though I knew you and Blake from Beacon. I wanted my team for this mission because of our experience in the field, and it put me on edge. I let my emotions get the better of me, and I said something completely uncalled for. If I'd been in your shoes, I would have showed a lot less restraint. There's not going to be a happy ending to this Nora. I'm not afraid of dying, but I hate that all I can do to make amends is offer some half-baked apology. You deserve better. You all do."
Silence filled the air again. The corner of Nora's mouth twitched.
"Thanks Coco. Maybe the next time we have an argument you'll apologize before we're in mortal danger."
Coco let out a sharp laugh.
"I'm serious," Nora said. "We'll figure a way out of this. I can't pick locks, but if I really stretched I might be able to get a hold of a hairpin. What if I got that to you somehow?"
"It wouldn't work," Coco said. "The way the cuffs are designed I'd only be able to pick yours, not my own, and I can't exactly reach you while we're chained to the wall. I thought about using the gun in my left boot heel, but I've only got one shot, and I can only really point it at the wall behind me. I might be able to get my legs free that way, but all that's going to do is attract attention while my hands are still shackled."
Nora paused, silent. Then she began to laugh. She bit her lip, trying to suppress her mirth, but a string of soft chuckles filled the cell. The harder she tried to keep it down, the more her body shook, jangling the chains at her ankles and wrists. Coco stared, trying to process Nora's reaction.
"What is it?" Coco asked.
Nora shook her head slowly. "You've been so focused on leading from the front, you never considered the rest of us. If it was a Taijitu, it would have bit you."
"I don't follow."
"Coco—what type of ammunition did you load in your boot?"
Coco straightened up. She looked at Nora and felt a grin creep across her face.
"Okay," Coco said, "Here's how we're going to play this."
...
Gunfire rang out and another Beowolf disintegrated, billowing around Reese as it blew up and past her.
"Through the eye!" Lloyd called out. "I bet you've never seen a shot like that before. I hear Mistrali like close range combat and explosives because none of them can shoot worth a damn."
Reese didn't hear the taunt. She was too focused on avoiding the Beowolves leaping at her, holding her knees tucked against her chest. Her thighs burned so much from holding the position that she had forgotten the pain in her wrists. She clenched her jaw with the effort, her screams of terror replaced by a protracted groan of pain and exertion. Her muscles spasmed, and her legs dropped half an inch for a few seconds before she could pull them back up.
She looked down at the pit. More Grimm had fallen in. Most were unable to climb out, but enough filled it that the smaller Beowolves could be seen clawing their way over the edge, or clambering over the backs of the other Grimm. A lean, rangy one was standing on the shifting sea of black and white directly beneath Reese, balancing atop the mass of Grimm like a surfer riding a wave. It stared up at her, drool dripping onto its chest. Reese felt her legs spasm again, but this time she failed to raise them all the way back up. The Beowolf crouched, waited until it felt the Grimm below it crest, then sprang up, its jaws aimed at her feet.
Reese thrust her legs straight down, kicking the Beowolf in the snout and whipping its head back. It fell back into the pit landing on its back. Another Grimm snapped at it in anger, sinking its teeth into the Beowolf's shoulder and dragging it below the surface of the writhing mass. Several yards to her left, another Beowolf was running towards the pit's edge. It bounded up the back of a much larger Beowolf, leaping through the air at Reese. Reese bent her legs at her hips, forming an 'L' shape with her body, and brought the backs of her heels down into the Grimm's neck in an axe kick. It shot down, landing near the pit's edge.
A moan escaped Reese's lips, and she let her legs dangle, unable to hold them up any longer. Relief washed over her, her legs thanking her for the break with a perverse burst of endorphins. She was so delirious from the pain that she barely registered the second Beowolf leaping up and soaring through the air.
Another shot rang out, striking the Grimm in the chest, and it tumbled limp into the pit, smoking. Lloyd lowered the gun a moment to shrug at Reese.
"Sorry about the wait," Lloyd said. "This magazine was a little wonky when I tried to load it. Keep it up though, we might actually beat the record."
Lloyd raised his rifle and three shots rang out. Two claimed the pair of Grimm closest to Reese.
The third clipped Lloyd on the shoulder.
His Aura absorbed the hit, but it knocked him back and made him drop his rifle. Another series of shots rang out, quickly dispatching another trio of Grimm outside the pit. The older Grimm and the more cautious young ones scattered. None of them strayed too far from Reese, but they were all watching the forest behind them, searching for the source of the shot. Reese just stared at the pit below, praying she'd be able to muster another kick if one of the Grimm inside leapt up again.
...
From a tall tree west of the pit trap, at the bottom of the mountain's slope, Sable peered through a rifle's scope, sitting on a limb with her back against the trunk. She anchored herself with two hands gripping the branch above her, while three more steadied the rifle atop her raised knee.
Blake should have snuck through the woods. Everyone in the White Fang knew of Adam's excessive emphasis on close range combat. He'd made it work by being selective of his unit's targets, never attacking anything that required sharpshooters unless other White Fang were on hand to assist.
But there it was again: A muzzle flash in the forest, a couple hundred yards back from the edge of the trees. Sable grinned training the rifle on the spot she'd seen. Then she froze as something rustled to her right. She drew a pistol with her sixth hand and spun, placing the barrel directly between Blake's eyes. Sable sneered at her.
"That wasn't very clever," she said.
In one flowing motion, Sable released a hand from the branch above her, drew a stiletto, and stabbed it down at Blake's arm. But before she could make contact, something slammed into Sable's back, ripping her out of the tree. Sable dropped her rifle, but managed to yank her attacker down as she fell. She slammed into the ground and rolled to her feet just in time to see Blake hit a log and burst into a cloud of smoke. Sable drew her curved knife and spun to brandish it alongside the stiletto, blocking a katana blade and a cleaver as the real Blake struck from behind.
"Not so rusty after all," Sable muttered.
Sable yanked a net from her back and swept it at Blake's legs. Blake hopped back from the attempt to trip her, giving Sable space to move. Sable drew a short sword with a slight forward curve, and gripped the net with a second hand, leaving her sixth hand free to grapple. She lunged forward, swinging the net to try to snare Blake, or feinting a swing to shepherd her movements. When she drew within arm's reach, she pressed harder, slashing with her three blades in a whirlwind of steel. The sheer ferocity of the attacks prevented Blake from doing anything more than blocking.
So Blake ran for the trees, running in a zigzag to avoid the Grimm, Sable's net, and rifle shots from Lloyd. Sable pursued her, vaulting a Beowolf in her path. As Blake reached the forest, Sable watched her leap into the lowest branches of a tree.
"You can't run forever, traitor!" Sable shouted. Sheathing her stiletto and sword, Sable climbed the tree with the ease of a normal person going for a light jog, flowing around the branches like water around rocks in a stream. She soon reached the top, where the tree limbs became thinner and more flexible. She found Blake standing on a branch a few yards across from her, gasping for breath, one hand steadying herself on the limb above her. Sable grinned.
"Looks like we do get to play with you after all."
Sable grasped her net with two hands and threw it. As she did, Blake leaned back, stretching the branch above her down to intercept the net. Then she released the branch to fling the net back at Sable. Blake's stomach lurched as she fell backwards. She channeled the momentum into a backflip, grabbing onto the branch below her as she fell, and her stomach lurched again as she jerked to a halt, hanging from the bouncing branch.
An enraged shout came from above her. Blake climbed back up to find Sable stuck to the tree. The net had wrapped partially around the trunk, pinning her in place. Blake walked around the trunk, nimbly stepping from branch to branch. Careful to touch only the edges of the net without the sticky coating, she pulled it tight around the tree, securing it in place.
Blake climbed to the ground, leaving Sable to writhe in her own snare. Most of the Grimm outside the pit had scattered, the occasional gunshot from the forest claiming them one by one. Blake walked within shouting distance of the fence, then cupped her hands around her mouth:
"I know you're still up there," She shouted at the watchtower. "And I know you can't move without my friend shooting you. This is going to go one of two ways: You can surrender, and I'll mention your cooperation to Vale when this is all over. Or you can choose between my friend shooting you when you pop out of cover, and me stabbing you when I climb up there. What's it going to be?"
There was a moment of silence. Blake took a step towards the tower. Then an arm shot out from behind the guard wall around the tower, withdrawing as fast as it had emerged. Blake watched a pair of round objects sail over the fence and past the pit, hitting the ground just beyond it and bouncing towards the trees. A hissing sound escaped when they stopped, and clouds of smoke began to billow out from the objects, obscuring the tower from the forest behind Blake. Blake turned back to the tower to watch Lloyd rise from behind the guard wall, brandishing his rifle.
"Oh come on," Blake said.
Lloyd fired twice. Blake dodged the first shot and deflected the second, retreating back to the forest's edge. She ducked behind a broad tree, sweat pouring down her brow, and weighed her options. She could wait out the smoke, but in that time Lloyd could shoot Reese or allow her to get eaten by the Grimm that were starting to return. Plus, there was no guarantee he didn't have more smoke grenades.
Blake's current level of Aura meant she couldn't rely on her Semblance alone to get to Lloyd, so she considered how her friends would have approached the problem. Weiss or Pyrrha would have tried to engage him from long range. Ruby would have run in, dodging with her Semblance, while Sun would have attempted the same thing and gotten shot. Yang would have tried to get shot. Ren and Jaune would have faced the same problems she did now, while Nora would have blown everything up or—
Blake blinked, unsure if she'd had an epiphany or a mental breakdown. She shook her head, converted Gambol Shroud into its hook form, and folded its ribbon into a length of material slightly longer than her arm span. She muttered an oath beneath her breath, then made the last preparation for her gambit: She panicked.
Adrenaline rushed through her as she released control of her emotions, causing the ribbon to shake in her hands. Her head grew faint as her breathing sped up, and she forced herself to calm just enough to keep from bolting. A few moments later, a crashing sound approached through the forest. One of the larger Beowolves emerged from the foliage staring at Blake. It stalked closer, wary of the strange huntress in its territory. Then it lunged forward, aiming for Blake's midsection.
Blake leapt to meet it, the ribbon stretched between her hands. She yanked it between the Beowolf's jaws, and tumbled gracelessly over its shoulders, landing so she was lying against its back. The Grimm growled and thrashed, trying to throw Blake off, and for a few moments Blake tumbled back and forth like a drunken pendulum, trying not to fall off. Then one lurch of the Grimm's body rolled her onto her stomach, and she rose to her knees, jerking the ends of her makeshift reins back as she placed herself astride the Beowolf's shoulders. She goaded it onwards towards the fence at a run.
Blake burst from the trees, lurching across the space between the woods and the fence as her unwilling steed took a zig-zagging path towards the watchtower. Yang or Nora would have shouted something intimidating. Blake just screamed. She had ridden halfway to the fence before Lloyd realized that Reese wasn't the one screaming. He saw the extra patch of white on the Beowolf's back and fired, but Blake's haphazard riding meant the shots merely grazed the Grimm beneath her or missed both of them entirely.
As she neared the fence the Beowolf pitched right, towards the pit of Grimm, and Blake's stomach turned to ice. She leaned the other direction until she was almost parallel to the ground, veering away at the last second, coming so close to falling in that she felt the Beowolf's hind leg stumble as it slipped on the pit's edge. The Beowolf charged forward, bounding up as it tried to buck her off, but Blake kept it pointed towards the fence.
It crashed into the chain link fence, warping it at the bottom, and Blake tumbled off. Before she could catch her breath, the Grimm slammed its claws down at her. She rolled left, then right, to dodge the strikes. A gunshot clipped its raised arm, staggering it, and she used the opportunity to scramble through the small, newly formed gap at the bottom of the fence.
She rose into a sprint on the other side, heading for the tower, and chanced a brief glance back at the fence. The Beowolf she had ridden was slumped on the ground, smoking, but more Grimm were trying to muscle past it to pursue her. Lloyd managed to prevent them from surging through the new gap or making it wider, but it required an almost constant rate of fire. Encouraged by that fact, Blake mounted the ladder to the tower and began climbing.
As she neared the top, she heard the floorboards above her shift. Blake climbed onto one of the struts supporting the tower on a side adjacent to the ladder, scaled the last fifteen feet to the guard wall, and vaulted over it, landing a kick on Lloyd's waist. He fell to the ground, landing halfway out of the tower. He scrambled back from the ledge, but before he could rise, Blake wrapped a length of the ribbon around his throat and pulled it tight. Lloyd tugged at the ribbon twice, then reached for the sword at his hip, only to find it missing.
There was a click, followed by a thrumming noise. Then Lloyd watched as his sword emerged from his chest, an inch right of his sternum. He gurgled, and went limp. Blake shoved him out of the tower with her foot and heard a wet crunch a moment later. She let out a heavy breath, gathered her weapons, and picked up Lloyd's rifle to finish off the rest of the Grimm roaming beyond the fence.
She turned back towards the crane to find herself staring at Sable. The spider Faunus was dangling upside down, gripping the crane's cable with her legs and two of her arms. She pressed her stiletto's point to Reese's throat, and held her curved knife to the rope suspending her from the crane's hook. Her mask was gone and there was a fury in her eyes, reined in to a simmer. Blake shivered at the look. Crazy enough to do anything, but sane enough to choose her moment well. It was a look she'd seen in Adam's eyes many times.
"Did you really think I'd make a net that I couldn't easily escape?" Sable asked. "Spiders never get caught in their own webs."
Blake hefted Lloyd's rifle, but before she could aim it at Sable's chest, Sable flipped down with an acrobat's grace, gripping the hook with two hands and hugging Reese with her remaining free hands, keeping the two blades in place the entire time. Reese looked away, but Sable turned her face back with the flat of the stiletto's blade.
"It's an easy shot," Sable said, her voice breezy, "But if you shoot me and I fall, I'll cut the rope on the way down. I've seen people fall in the pit plenty of times. They die fast, but not as quick as you'd think; confined Grimm fight over prey pretty viciously when they're that agitated. Drop the rifle."
"You're going to kill us either way," Blake said.
"Probably. But I can give your friend a gentler death if you play nice. Brutal dismemberment, or humane execution: Your choice."
Blake glared at Sable, unblinking. But after a few moments of tension, she laid down the gun. Reese grimaced, and Sable's eyes lit up with glee at both huntresses' reactions. She glanced over Reese's shoulder at the forest to find that the smoke from Lloyd's grenades had finally cleared. She hid as much of her body as she could behind Reese before turning back to Blake.
"Hands behind your head, traitor," Sable said.
Blake raised her hands to shoulder-height. "How are you holding up Reese?" she asked.
"I've been better," Reese said. "Might have another round left in me."
Sable pricked the point of the stiletto against Reese's throat. "Not another word." She looked at Blake. "I said hands behind your head."
Blake made a yielding gesture before lacing her fingers together behind her head. Sable nodded, satisfied, and tilted her head back towards the forest.
"Tell your friend to come down here, unarmed. If he doesn't show himself in the next minute, this one dies."
"He won't like that," Blake said.
"If he could have shot me without hitting this Mistrali, he would have done it already. Don't make me repeat myself."
Blake sighed, then slowly walked towards the edge of the tower. "We're doing it her way!" she called out to the forest. "Not ours. Come on out."
Blake's face fell and she met Reese's eyes. "I'm sorry."
Sable grinned. Ten slow seconds passed. Then a single gunshot broke the silence with a crack, followed by the ping of a ricochet off the arm of the crane. Blue-white flashes of electricity arced down the crane arm, travelling down the cable until it shocked Sable and Reese. They shouted in pain, their limbs seizing up as electricity cascaded down their bodies. Sable's hands gripped the hook hard enough to draw blood from her palms. Then as suddenly as the electricity had appeared, it blinked out.
Reese and Sable both went slack. But while Reese was still suspended by the rope, Sable had no such tether. She lost her grip and fell, losing hold of her weapons as she plummeted. She struck the edge of the pit at her waist, managing to grab hold of the earth outside the pit and arrest her fall. She began to crawl out, her movements sluggish, when something locked its jaws around her ankle.
She made a startled noise and began clawing at the earth with sudden vigor, pulling against the Grimm. Then another set of jaws locked around her opposite knee. A third seized her lowest right arm, while more teeth and a pair of claws seized her two of her left arms. The Grimm dragged Sable back into the pit.
She screamed, her free hands and her face carving furrows in the earth. She disappeared into the writhing mass of black and white and her screams grew agonized, drowning out the other horrific sounds from the pit, making Blake clamp her hands over her ears. Then there was a loud ripping sound, followed by a wet, choked scream. The area fell silent, save for the growls of the Grimm in the pit, and the occasional rifle shot exterminating the ones roaming outside it.
...
Reese blinked, dazed. She was on the ground, propped up against the wall of one of the outbuildings. Her head throbbed, making her wince, and she reached a hand up to massage it. Discovering her hands were free she sat bolt upright, fully awake. She frantically patted her pockets, searching for anything she could use as a weapon.
"Looking for this?" Blake appeared from the direction of the fence, Lloyd's rifle slung across her back. She held out Reese's unbroken revolver. Reese took it and stuck it in her sweatshirt pocket.
"You can take the rifle too," Blake said. "But it's as good as a club right now. I used the rest of the ammunition on the Grimm in that pit in case we retreat that way when—"
Reese wrapped her arms around Blake hard enough to stagger her, burying her face in Blake's shoulder. Her breath hitched a few times, but she managed to stifle most of her sobs. Blake rubbed her shoulder for a few moments, then gently pried her away.
"Are you going to be okay?"
"No," Reese said, her voice cracking. She drew a deep breath, and then her voice grew steadier. "But I can be a mess later. We need to help the others first."
Blake gave Reese a little smile, and Reese returned it, rubbing her eyes. Reese took the rifle from Blake and the two of them stalked back towards the main building.
"How did you get help that fast?" Reese asked.
Blake smirked and shook her head. "It turns out we have a lot of stubborn friends."
...
Far back in the forest, a rifle colored to match the ground and surrounding foliage protruded from beneath a thicket of bushes, resting on a folded vest. The person on the other side of the scope watched Blake and Reese enter the main building. A few of the bushes rustled, twisting the rifle to point skyward. The bushes took on a more obviously human shape, resolving into Royce struggling to his feet with one arm. His eyes twinkled.
"See y'all soon," he said.
Royce slung his rifle across his shoulder and gathered his vest. Then he slipped off to find a new vantage point, his Semblance shifting the color and texture of his body to blend into the forest night.
...
The cell opened again. Ash strode up to Coco, Karah at her side.
"The gunfire stopped," Ash said. "Why don't we see what's left?
Coco ignored her, letting her head hang. Ash tipped her chin up with the toe of her boot to meet her eyes. Coco stared back, her eyes flat. Ash made a disappointed groan. She released Coco's cuffs from the wall above her and secured them at her waist. Ash bent to release her feet from their shackles.
"Come now," Ash said. "Where's that fire of yours? I threaten a few of your friends and you just deflate? I didn't realize you were so brittle. Part of me hoped you really were as tough as the bravado you've displayed."
Ash pulled Coco up and brought her inches from her face. "Pain is sweeter when it's harder to elicit."
Coco lunged at Ash. Ash stepped back, but Coco's head still managed to clip her jaw. She seized Coco by the neck and shoulder, slammed her to the ground, then leapt atop her, pressing her knees into the huntress's stomach. Coco twisted and flexed, trying to contort herself into a position she could attack Ash from.
"I'll kill you!" Coco shouted.
"Try it," said Ash.
Coco growled and tried to kick Ash, her legs thrashing about. Karah moved to seize Coco's feet, and Coco responded by stabbing her heel out at him. He swatted her boot aside as the gun in the heel fired, rocking Coco and Ash to the side and knocking Ash off. Ash sat up, stunned.
Coco was staring wide-eyed at Nora. The smaller girl twitched a few times, then went limp as the last flashes of dust danced across her body. Karah's fists clenched, his knuckles turning white. Ash calmly stood up, dragged Coco back to the wall, and pressed her against it by her throat. Coco started to cough and wheeze. She tried to kick again, but Ash pinned her legs in place with her knees. Coco's vision blurred as Karah moved back alongside Ash, a knife in one hand.
"You knew we had plans for her," Ash said, her voice wavering with suppressed fury. "I suppose you'll have to be our replacement. How should we start?"
Karah flourished the knife. "Let's make sure she's not hiding any more tricks. Then let's do what I wanted to do to the short one: Take her apart, joint-by-joint. Start with the fingers, move to the wrist, and keep going up her arm until we reach the shoulder. I think that'll be a good start."
"What do you think, huntress?" Ash asked.
Coco mouthed words like a beached fish and made a rasping sound. Ash released a little pressure, and Coco managed a hoarse whisper:
"Checkmate."
The sound of metal snapping rapidly echoed in the cell like hail on a steel roof. Karah turned towards the sound and took a step forward, but before he could move any further he flew into Ash as Nora tackled both of them to the cell floor. Karah began to rise while Ash floundered beneath him, but Nora grabbed him by the back of his head and slammed him face-first into the wall. He slid down the wall and crumpled into a motionless heap.
Ash seized Nora in a headlock, lifting the smaller girl entirely off the ground. Without hesitating, Nora kicked off the wall with both feet and knocked Ash onto her back. Ash cried out in pain as her wings were crushed against the ground, and she released Nora, who climbed to her knees and began laying into Ash with her fists until she lay still. Nora knelt atop Ash for a moment, her shoulders heaving as she caught her breath. The only other sound in the room was Ash's weak breathing. Then Nora took one final breath, and searched Ash's pockets until she found a ring of keys. Coco stared in silence as Nora unlocked her shackles.
"Have I mentioned how glad I am that you accepted my apology?" Coco asked, massaging her wrists.
Nora let out a dry laugh, unlocking the remains of the shackles that dangled from her own wrists. "It would be nice, but you don't need to. Your body language is telling me you've accepted that I'm the superior huntress."
Coco scoffed and picked up Karah's knife. "You wish," she said. "Let's save Reese and finish this. After that, I'm going to show you why you're wrong—with my boots."
"I wouldn't have it any other way."