1-2. Routine

"Grimm inbound!"

The fact that those words immediately followed the sudden revelation did little to ease the Faunus. There was a moment of silence as the White Fang tried to process their sudden militarization, with only the panicked voices of the sentries in the background, crackling through the radio in between bursts of gunfire. Still, there were still a few faunus who did not stand dumbfounded, and these men and women did their best to rally the others, as the gravity of the situation fell on them.

A tiger-faunus, the Captain of the fort, was one such person. He had to make a split decision between calming the crowd and gathering more information. Unfortunately, instinct told him that the sentries were on borrowed time, so he chose to bolt to the nearest radio communicator. Already, he could hear the growls of grimm grow louder on the other side.

"What's going on? What are their strength and numbers?" Grimm attacks were not uncommon in the wildlands, and raids from Beowolf packs were almost a daily occurrence. Yet, they were never more than a nuisance, as the fortified encampment had carved out its own place in the wilds. There were few larger grimm in the area, and while they would get the occasional Usra Major or three, the encampment was armed enough to deal with anything up to a Deathstalker.

So the fact that the sentries were this panicked filled the Captain with dread. How bad was the situation?

"The situation's bad!" The first voice to respond only did so after a sustained burst of gunfire, inadvertently answering the Captain's question as she yelled back. "There's too much grimm out here! More than anything we've see- Nevermore flock!" Something else took the attention of the woman on the other side, as shrill avian screeches filled the air. A loud explosion sounded out, one that even the Captain could hear, and the man frowned.

This made no sense. Nevermore never flocked in this area, at least not in enough numbers to threaten the encampment. To say nothing else of the other grimm that were undoubtedly attacking. But, rather than deal with the absurdity of the notion, the Captain trusted those under his command, and took their warning to heart. Turning back to the rest of the crowd, he could still see confusion fresh on the faunus' faces, not quite able to comprehend what was going on. So, he did what anyone in his position would do.

The Tiger-faunus's semblance flared up, aura gleaming around his form, his eyes flickering with a blue hue as he roared. His voice reached even the sentries on the encampment's edge, the power of his soul carrying his words.

"We will not fall." The words echoed out so clearly, that even the grimm in the outskirts paused, growling in confusion at the sudden voice. "For years, we've been unable to find a place in this world, abandoned by the kingdoms and governments who gave us false promise. So, alone, we had no choice but to carve out a place for ourselves—our own home in this wilderness."

Emerald eyes, wreathed in a blue light, scanned over the crowd. The Captain could see recognition flicker to life on the recruits, while the more experienced White Fang soldiers already began dividing their attention between the impromptu speech and the distribution of equipment. It wasn't the worst case scenario, which was all he could ask for, and as more and more people gathered their weapons, the Tiger-faunus spoke out once again.

"I don't need to tell you how hard we've had it, life outside the Kingdoms. Each of us have lived through it, day after day. So! I'll just remind you all that, once we're done here, I've still got a lecture lined up for you." His voice gradually changed from stern to bemused, and even the people at the back of the crowd could see the man's growing grin. "And make no mistake: It's a boring one, too. So hurry up and get your fill of the grimm, because it'll be over soon.

"We will not fall."

Those words were all the White Fang needed, as they scrambled to meet the threat head-on. The Captain followed, a complicated expression on his face as he mentally sighed. As much as his barely-passable speech worked, he still had a dark premonition of things to come. The faunus retrieved his weapon from its perch, a bardiche nearly twice his size, dust chamber glowing with a red glow as the energies within came to life. His eyes fell on the ramparts, pausing for just a moment before charge too charged towards the walls.

He had arrived just in time to see a massive Boarbatusk, far older than any he had seen before, bulldoze through the reinforced masonry.

Nox took in his surroundings.

Before him stood a creature he had never seen before, and if he were in the right state of mind, perhaps he would've done something more than just stare at the wolf-like beast. Yet, the Xelor did not care, and the purple glow of his helmet remained fixed to the crimson beads etched into the strange animal's bone-white mask.

Another creature approached, following close behind the first monster. It was a similar, if smaller, species to the one before, another humanoid wolf in pitch-black fur, that had crawled over to him for some unknown reason. The Xelor could see slight differences in its make, a few less plates, a more fervored step, a less cautious approach. Still, one constant remained: the fact that the beast's red eyes tried to bore into him.

Yet, the Xelor paid no heed to the beast, acting with nothing more than sheer passivity as he observed his surroundings. Behind these wolves were other creatures of various shapes and sizes, from birds and boars, to massive bears and scorpions that rivaled even Razortime in size. Yes... Razortime... One of his last creations that he had used to..

The Xelor brought a hand up, his gaze suddenly shifting to his embalmed hand, as his memory flickered back to everything that these bandaged fingers had created. Lost in his thoughts, Nox was unable to notice the monsters around him, their gaze and interest renewed at the sudden spike. A bear from earlier lumbered over to the Xelor, the earth quaking in its steps, turning the armoured mummy's attention away from his hand to the new stimulus.

A roar echoed from the Ursa, and it brought a heavy paw upwards. Rather than match its brethren, the Ursa had decided aggression to be the best course of action, as negative emotions always meant the presence of human. Its claws gleamed in the night sky, moonlight reflecting off the razor sharp blades, before it brought its weight down to bear on the doll in front of it.

And then its arm disappeared in a flash of violet light.

It wasn't simple reflex anymore—the Xelor's actions were now a mechanical response, a routine forced into him, a result of centuries of gathering Wakfu. Input: threat. Output: cessation. Something as simple as that was all that drove Nox now, as he had brought his hand outwards, the focusing core in his palm exploding the air in front of him, as raw Stasis erased the threat.

Stasis... Was he not filled with Wakfu? Nox turned his hand over once more, and finally noticed the purple light that flickered within the lens of his palm. It was a mystery, and the mechanical mummy chose to observe himself in silence, watching as the energies of pure destruction flickered in his grasp. He ignored the apprehensive gaze of the surrounding monsters, or the pained roar of the bear in front of him, choosing instead to watch as sparks of purple began corroding away his armour, minuscule fractures slowly forming on the lens.

Repair.

Another simple routine, though one that was often done subconsciously, through the use of his many clockwork machines. He had no such creations here, however, so the Xelor ignored his worsening condition. There were no suitable materials, and he could not sense any Wakfu from the environment. Rather than question the implications of his new observations, he took it in as objective fact.

He would conserve himself for now.

A light sensation on his shoulder brought the Xelor out of his minimalistic thoughts, and Nox turned to his left, the glow of his mask falling on the sight of a black bird perched on him. Just like the wolf and bear from before, this creature was pitch black, its feathers a constant shroud of darkness, all while wearing a thin white mask. The Xelor felt nothing from the creature's gaze, and after a few moments of silence, ignored it as his attention fell back to the bear.

There was a strange black smoke leaking from the creature's limbs, the eradicated forearms of the bear monster reduced to nothing more than stumps, as an odd... something seeped out from the wound. The Xelor only gave this a cursory glance, as his eyes shifted from the severed arms of the bear to its owner instead. Were he a huntsman, he would've been surprised to see the lack of aggression on the monster's face, as the Ursa had chosen not to press the attack. No fangs were bared, and no stance was taken by the grimm as its focus was fixed completely on Nox.

But the Xelor was not a huntsman, and he only saw a creature looking back at him. There was nothing else to infer from the situation, and Nox turned his attention back to-

An explosion rang out. It was distant, but the sound carried through the air, and the ground shook as unknown reverberations reached the impact sight.

Countless grimm turned their sights to the explosion's source, as smoke began wafting in the distance. The Xelor's gaze focused on the monsters for a few moments more, before following their attention until his eyes fell on the source.

His mask whirred, the left socket of his helmet flicking between lenses, until he could see the source of the blaze: people fighting these creatures. Blades and guns were used to combat the beasts, but there was also something else in the air. One of the women began glowing with a strange light, her fist turning to fire as it punched a masked wolf. Another man brought up his rifle, and it was charged with a green hue before it ejected a spear.

It was a curiosity, so the Xelor decided to teleport over. Nox flickered.

It was a curiosity, as was his inability to move between space, so the Xelor decided to shamble over. His gait was slow and ponderous as he began to move, and Nox paid no attention as the menagerie of grimm followed him in his wake.

Even she couldn't help but grin.

When her captain first engaged the ancient boar grimm, they were all worried. It towered over Ursai, and its tusks were massive plates of bone that almost seemed to be designed to bulldoze through walls. Bullets bounced harmlessly off the sheet of grimm material, and heavy weapons fared no better.

Yet, the Captain was able to draw its attention throughout the entire fight. His Bardiche was enough to stagger the monster for a few moments, buying precious time for other Faunus to escape, to come up with a plan. A certain Deer faunus, the sentry from before, was one of these lucky souls. However, she was a fighter, and rather than simply escape, she quickly made her way over to motor pool.

Just as she was told, there were components for large weapon batteries, all strapped in to the platforms here, but there was no time to unpack and deploy them. Instead, she had turned her attention to one of the many convoy vehicles, the supply trucks that were filled to the brim with dust. No one questioned her when she jumped into an unmanned truck, and no one questioned her when she sped off back to the boar.

The Captain was the first to notice the Sentry's plan, and rather than voice any complain, he changed his tactics accordingly. The Tiger drew the Elder Boarbatusk into the open, pulling the beast far away from nearby buildings. Another roar sounded out from the Captain, this time to entice his opponent as he gave a mocking roar.

The grimm met his cry with its own. A howl tore through the air as a torrent of fang and bones lashed at the ground, the air growing charged as Boarbatusk began spinning like its lesser brethren. However, age made it far more dangerous, and the very earth was ripped apart with the action, drawn into the circular tempest that the beast had created. A shell of rock and heat surrounded the grimm before it finally attacked, leaping upwards rather than forwards, hovering in the air for just a moment before it came crashing down in a meteoric strike of pure murder.

Experience and common sense told the Captain to dodge, and he quickly leapt out of the way. Moments later, the ground where he had once stood was now a broken crater, forever scarred by the ancient grimm. Old piping shattered, flooding the hole with water, steam forming the moment it reached the grimm's plated skin as the Elder Boarbatusk began thrashing around. A creature of its size would waste precious seconds trying to right itself.

Yet, this moment of reprieve was more than enough for the Sentry. The deer faunus clenched her teeth, her eyes never wavering as she drove straight towards the Elder Boarbatusk.

A primal squeal of pain was the first thing the Sentry heard, before the sound of crumpled metal. Her body felt the impact, but the grimm's ferocious roar was still the first sign of good news. However, she knew she couldn't stay in the now-wrecked vehicle, and it was only through her aura that she could even hope to escape. Well, her aura and her semblance's ability to hit things until they break. The supply truck's door flew straight off its hinges as she wreathed her foot in fire, before she sped out from the opening, diving away from immediate danger.

The moment she left the vehicle, the rest of her companions acted, as dust-powered rockets converged on the crater. Dust begat dust, which translated to a stupidly large explosion, and the entire camp cheered as the smoke was accompanied by the final death throes of the Elder Boarbatusk.

Which is why the Sentry couldn't help but grin.

But the moment of elation had passed, and a Beowolf's howl reminded the Faunus that they were not alone. Moments later, an Ursa stormed into the breach left behind by the Elder Boarbatusk, riddled with countless bullets and wounds. Yet, not even the sparking javelin that was buried in its chest stopped its approach.

The Sentry reacted first, activating her semblance once more as she charged forward, fire coating her fist in one powerful strike as she struck the beast square in its chest. The force was enough to drive the creature back, as the Ursa stumbled onto its hind feet, barely able to keep its balance. A flurry of spears rained down on the Ursa moments later, adding to the lone javelin that had pierced it.

A pack of Beowolves took the Ursa's place, just in time for more White Fang reinforcements to charge in. There was a collective cheer as the Faunus took the fight to the grimm. The crackles of gunfire echoed through the air, roaring over the howls and cheers of the battle below, a metallic storm striking at the lesser wolves, while blades and batons clashed against the larger ones. The Sentry quickly retrieved a new rifle from a supply officer, eager to join the fight once more as she made her way back up to the walls.

From the ramparts, she could see the tide of grimm, her expression falling at the sight of them. Sure, they were mostly lesser grimm, likely led by that Boarbatusk from earlier. However, there were still hundreds of Beowolves and... Were those jackal grimm? Or were they just malformed younger beowolves? Before she could think on that further, the Sentry caught sight of larger Creeps among the horde, swimming through the ground as they made their way closer.

To say that they would suffer casualties would be an understatement. The Deer-faunus's mood had already dampened from her earlier optimism, but she didn't even have a chance to prepare herself for a darker outcome; Her body immediately told her that something far worse had arrived.

She didn't know if it was simply due to her being a faunus, or if it was some aspect of her very being, but the Sentry had always found her instinct to be her strongest adviser. It was no secret that her gut reactions were what had allowed the woman to survive for this long.

Which is why she completely froze when that sense of dread washed over her. Her instinct rebelled.

The sensation came from somewhere, and bringing the rifle's scope to her eye, the Sentry began scanning the horizon. Her vision flitted between packs of grimm and angry Ursai, even stumbling on the sight of another old Boarbatusk before it found the source of her fear.

Staring back at her, beneath an impassive mask of bone-white plating, were two glowing lights of purple. At first, she assumed it was a huntsman, but the fact that it was surrounded by grimm quickly shot down that idea. And what she first thought was a blackened scarf revealed itself to be a flock of lesser Nevermore, wings fluttering the moment her eyes fell on them proper.

The way the rest of the grimm ignored the being... The soulless eyes that seemed to reach her from even this distance... Make no mistake: These observations were bone-chilling in their own right. But what truly clawed at her nerves was that fact that, for all of her senses and instincts as an experienced watch-woman of this camp, the Sentry found absolutely no trace of Aura in that monster.

The Sentry took out her radio communicator, as her brain began trying to formulate something to say. The air cracked as the device came to life, the radio operator shooting off questions from the other side. After a few moments, the Deer-faunus finally found her voice, panic laced in her tone as she began speaking those impossible words.

"We've... We've got a humanoid grimm..."

Those words were all she could etch out, before the Sentry gripped her rifle once again.

To Nox, the scene before him was simply that: A scene.

A setting where a collection of events took place, and one so far removed from his current situation, he couldn't bring himself to care. He had already lost the world before him, so there was no reason to care for this new one. Rather than try to puzzle why these people and creatures were fighting, the Xelor took in the sights.

Nox merely watched as the plated bear to his left charged forward, barreling over its lesser companions as it made its way to the fort. He didn't break his stride as the strange lizard creatures to his right dug into the ground, burrowing through the dirt as they disappeared from his vision. He paid no attention to his surroundings as his eyes fell on the fiery woman from earlier, staring back at her through his left lens, watching her twisting expression with his own impassive acceptance.

His body reacted the moment she fired, and he held out a hand in empty defiance as a bullet pinged harmlessly off of his Wakfu shell. Or was it a Stasis shell now? His suit surged, the energies corroding the metal fragment, breaking it down into nothingness as he continued his motions. In response to the sudden flare of destruction, the flock of birds around him took flight, charging towards the woman on the ramparts.

More gunfire shot out from the walls, as shards of metal rained down on the beasts. A few bullets tried to focus on the Xelor, but he had enough reserves to withstand the attacks, the Stasis within his systems eager for the chance to be spent. And spent they shall be, as a purple shell of energy surrounded the Xelor, consuming bullets and fire alike.

For the most part, he watched the battle, as more shadow-beasts joined the conflict. A large bird flew in from the distant woods, and a few of the massive scorpions that had trailed behind him turned their attention to the fort. Even the people in the facility started to ignore him in favour of the new masked creatures, and Nox walk through the breach unopposed, his presence mixing in with a tide of wolves.

More of the beasts emptied into the courtyard, but Nox gave them no attention as he caught sight of something familiar from the corner of his eye. Metal. Energy. Resources. It was a pile of discarded junk and unknown powders, but the Xelor could tell that there was still some use left in them. He made his way over to one of the buildings, ignoring the warning cries of one of the people who stood at the entrance.

The guard brought his weapon to Nox, but a shadow wolf removed the threat. The Xelor continued on, making his way into the building labeled 'Armory'.

The Shadow of Noximilien Coxen was a pitiful being with nothing left in life. And when you've got nothing left, you fall into routine. So Nox made his way over to a pile of unknown weapons and dust, taking a piece of metal in his hands before he folded it into a more pliant tool.

For his routine was one ingrained in him over the course of two centuries; One where he meticulously created clockwork beings of destruction, all for the sake of draining Wakfu. And though this world did not hold any Wakfu, the lingering traces of the Xelor's obsession remained.

Without a word, Nox began his routine.