Chapter 16
For What It's Worth
XXXXX
Ironwood's patience was growing thin. In addition to the students from Vale, he had highly skilled Huntsmen and Specialists on the base. Even the Ace Ops were on standby to catch their target. Amber had been overpowered by a trio, and Ironwood had dozens of trained soldiers at the ready for someone with half of her potential. Even James Walker's robot companion with its radar was standing on by to assist. So where was Cinder Fall?
He paced back and forth in his office, his frustration rising. What was happening? All accounts pointed to Cinder returning to base to lick her wounds. She had been prepared for an infiltration mission in Vale and Beacon, she couldn't have possibly planned for operating in Atlas. The decision to move so many forces and students this far north had been a decision made in response to the Legion, a faction that was directly robbing Cinder, and by extension Salem, of allies. Whatever plan she had, it had not involved being in Atlas, she had nowhere to go out in the tundra except back here.
Unless Salem had somehow managed to get loyal agents inside of Atlas. His pacing came to a halt. No. That would be impossible. Atlas was easily the greatest of the four Kingdoms, both in its military and in its people, it couldn't be compromised like that. But then how had Rumford and Torchwick escaped and made their way to Cinder? Two soldiers had been escorting them to a secure facility, but only one body had been found. The other had been officially listed as MIA, but what if there was more to it than that? She had been a veteran of five years, one with no security risks. Had Salem gotten to her? Was she the only one?
His irritation getting the better of him, he stepped out, back into the main body of the base. He was supposed to be staying in his secure position, not exposing himself to potential assassination attempts if Cinder lashed out in desperation when she was cornered. But something was wrong. It had been hours since ED-E had reported back to base, either Cinder and her followers were hunting down Walker and Winter or they had fled entirely. Meaning they had sanctuary.
His scroll was in his hand, his thumb typing out a single word. "Update." He sent the message. There was a pause as he waited impatiently for a reply. After far too many seconds, he received one. "Nothing." Anger flared inside of him. He had had Cinder. Had her right in his hands. They would've had the Fall Maiden back under their full control as well as the head of the woman who had hacked Atlas. What had happened?
Ironwood started to make his way forward. Anger was getting the better of him, he knew that, but he had to do something. Answers, he needed answers. Fortunately, he didn't have to look very far. A junior officer rounded the corner, sprinting directly for him. ED-E was floating directly behind him, letting out an incomprehensible stream of beeps. Unfortunately, the panicked look on the officer's face told Ironwood that none of the news he was about to receive was good.
"Sir, the news! There's been an intelligence leak! They know Specialist Schnee is missing! Her father is giving an interview!" the officer shouted, screeching to a halt in front of him. Ironwood blinked as he looked at him. The man was holding up a scroll that had one of the major news networks playing. There had to be some sort of mistake, he had clearly misheard the man. Either that or the man, in his youth and inexperience, was jumping to absurd conclusions. But that happy illusion came crashing down as the officer handed over the scroll to him.
Jacques Schnee, patriarch of the Schnee family and CEO of the Schnee Dust Corporation, was standing in front of a podium with a dozen different microphones in front of him. "It has been brought to my attention that my beloved daughter, Winter Schnee, is currently missing in action. What is worse, she may have even been kidnapped. I am not certain. The Atlas military and General Ironwood, the institution she served, and the man she respected neglected to let her family know. An anonymous tip, doubtless sent to me by a brave whistleblower who was disgusted by such a cowardly cover-up, was how I learned of her fate."
He wiped at his eyes, which had gone from dry to wet suspiciously fast. "Many of you doubtless wonder why I am concerned for a daughter I disowned. Everything I did I only did because I loved her. She is a brave, bright young woman, who squandered her potential serving a man like James Ironwood. I only ever wanted her to come home where she would be safe. An incompetent man has let my eldest befall a horrible fate, and did he see fit to let me know?"
"And your wife, sir?" a reporter asked. "Her mother?"
"What?" Jacques said. For half a second, he looked caught off guard. He recovered quickly. "Oh. Oh yes. She's quite distraught. As she should be. I have worked with Ironwood on several occasions and I've been worried about a man like this commanding my daughter, let alone the safety of our kingdom. The Council has been giving him more influence and power than he deserves. I have quite a few choice words for him over the pain he's caused me."
"But Ironwood's negligence does not stop there," Jaques continued. Again, he wiped at his watering eyes. "I am told that Winter was out in the wilderness, Grimm territory, without backup, support, or any other form of structure. All she had was a single man by the name of James Walker, who seems to be an untested variable and woefully unprepared for the duties my daughter undertook."
He held his hands up in front of him. "But I do not blame Mr. Walker. My limited information on him paints him as a lost soul who has no known relatives. He is my age. Perhaps he saw a surrogate daughter in Winter. I can't claim to know, but I suspect he grew close to my daughter out of a primal desire for company. But General Ironwood should have known better. Two lives were in his hands. They are now in jeopardy. We may never see them again. General Ironwood? I now speak to you. How do you explain yourself? How do you intend to tell a father how you lost his daughter to hostile forces in the middle of Atlas?"
Ironwood turned the feed off. "Cinder told them," he said. "No one else could've known what happened there. Whether she did it directly or through a proxy, it doesn't matter." His cybernetic fist tightened around the scroll. The faintest sound of the screen straining under his fist reached his ears. With a snap, cracks spiderwebbed across it. "They knew we were waiting for them. They ran, and they left a PR debacle to draw my attention during their retreat. Jacques Schnee never passes up a chance to bring the spotlight onto himself, and now he's got a golden chance to play the mourning father card."
Ozpin had been right. Ozpin was always right, a mindset the headmaster of Vale was most likely becoming comfortable with. Bitterness slumped over Ironwood like a blanket. He did not want to talk to Ozpin right now. Even at his most diplomatic, Ozpin would find some manner of saying "you should have listened to me" regardless of how much the blow was softened. Besides, he had other things to deal with. He would have to do an internal sweep of the base to find and plug a leak, someone had told Cinder about the ambush he had planned. It was the only reason she would've bothered to orchestrate this. On top of that, the sun was starting to set outside. The raid on the Legion would have to be done tonight, otherwise, the trail would go cold. Ozpin would be able to rub it in another time.
Looking down at the cracked scroll, he felt a twinge of regret. He hoped that it hadn't been the officer's personal scroll. "Get this replaced by the quartermaster," he said as kindly as he could. "Tell no one about what I've shared with you. Ensure the base remains on standby. ED-E? Stay here." The officer nodded nervously before running off. The ball-shaped robot let out another string of beeps as it floated closer to him.
".. .-. - / -. - .. -. -. / - - / .-. .. .-. / - ... - ... . / .- ... ... ... - .-.. . ... / .- .-. .- .-. - .-.-.- / - ... .- - / -... .. - -.-. ... / .- -. -.. / ... . .-. / .-. .- .-. .- -.. . / - ..-. / ..-. .-. . .- -.- ... .-.-.-" ED-E beeped in that unintelligible code it used. When Winter and Walker were back in his custody, he was going to sit down with James and not let him leave until he had a cypher for it.
"We are going to get them back, Qrow is already on it." ED-E let out another barrage of beeps that Ironwood felt confident in assuming was disapproval. "I understand that Qrow is a rather volatile individual, but he can be trusted in serious matters such as these," he said. "Until then, I need your help with the Legion and Fang." The robot fell silent, floating a mere foot away from Ironwood. "I know you have impressive sensors that act as a sort of sonar. They were useful back in Vale. I'll need it when we conduct our raid. I do not want any of them escaping. Can you do that? One beep for no, two for yes."
Ironwood waited for a reply. ED-E was an odd little robot, not at all like Atlas's Knights or Paladins. It didn't seem to follow Walker out of any sense of professionalism, merely loyalty. He decided to press that front. "James dedicated so much of his life to hunting down the Legion, to make sure they couldn't hurt anyone else. That's what I'm trying to do. Please." Eventually, ED-E gave two soft, dejected beeps. Ironwood gently patted the robot on the top of its chassis. "Thank you. I want you accompanying me personally. I was going to have Winter lead this mission, but without her, I'll be doing it personally. I do not want a single one of them escaping, they've had free reign of Remnant for too long."
ED-E let out another pair of beeps, its entire body bobbing up and down viciously. Ironwood allowed himself a small smile. The raid would go according to plan, with everything else that had gone wrong today, he had to salvage this. ED-E floated down a bit, gently nudging the broken Scroll that he was holding, and looking up. Ironwood understood. "Let them talk. Jaques won't be able to preen to the cameras when this is all said and done." ED-E let out another beep, one of soft and wavering tone. Never before in his life had Ironwood heard a skeptical beep.
"Now then. I plan to utilize an envelopment tactic," Ironwood said, placing the broken scroll in a pocket and producing his own. Turning it on, he flicked through it until he found the diagram he had sketched of the battlefield. It was believed that the joint camp would be located in a clearing not far from the White Fang safehouse, which gave Ironwood plenty to work with. "You will be joining me and the main force, which will launch a devastating strike from the front. Our aircraft will begin the engagement by firing their complement of missiles at the center of the enemy formation before landing us, utilizing the disorientation to encircle them. We'll be utilizing Atlas Specialists, Huntsmen, and mechanized forces supported by regular infantry." He pointed to the map as he spoke. A blob of red dots represented the enemy camp, while a solid block of blue stood for the Atlas military.
"Neither Ceasar nor Adam Taurus have profiles that encourage retreat, so I expect them to stand their ground and fight," Ironwood said. Indeed, both the block and the blob had arrows directing both of them towards each other. "This is where the fighting will be thickest, so I want the heaviest concentration of forces here. Still, stragglers might break and run for it, Vulpes Inculta, in particular, is a flight risk, so I'll have more mobile flanking forces on the side and rear." He pointed to thin lines that formed a box with the block being the top. "These will be light and mobile forces. Team RWBY will secure the left flank, Atlas Huntsmen not assisting with the front will be taking the right, and Team JNPR will lock down the rear. All three will have Atlas infantry assisting them."
ED-E let out another doubtful beep. "Odds are, the flanking forces will remain on harassment and containment, not routing or annihilation. If large portions of the enemy forces attempt to retreat, they just need to keep them pinned for a minute until our main force can crush them from behind. What's more, our aircraft will remain in the area even after their payloads are spent, using their primary guns to provide support fire." There was a long pause as ED-E looked over the map before letting out two hesitant beeps. "Excellent. I was going to have James translate for you, but since that isn't an option I'll have to write up a code on the way there. It'll be a rough job, I'll mainly be stuck with asking you very specific questions, but I-" but a voice from behind him interrupted him.
"G-general Ironwood?" Ironwood's heart skipped a beat. He had been so caught up in planning that he had forgotten that everyone, truly everyone, had access to Jaqcues's interview. Steeling himself, he turned around. Weiss was standing a few yards away, clenching her hands together. "Is...is it true? What my father is saying?"
"He's filtering it through a venire of self-importance and drama," Ironwood said, his voice warm. "But the core of it is true. Winter has currently been taken captive, yes. But I promise you, Weiss, we already have agents arranging her rescue. She and Mr. Walker will be back within a matter of days." Weiss didn't look particularly convinced. Now that Ironwood looked closer, he could see that her hands were trembling and that her eyes were sparkling. She was oddly composed, despite all of that. She was clearly hurting but was keeping it all bottled up. Ironwood respected that. Still, the girl was only seventeen, she deserved a degree of comfort.
"The ones I have looking for her I would trust with my life," he said. It was true. As many issues as he had with Qrow, he was one of Ozpin's most trusted for a good reason. "Knowing him, he's already found her and is just waiting for an opening. And we have no reason to suspect that she's being mistreated. We suspect that her captors want her alive and healthy." This, on the other hand, was stretching the truth. Not that it was a flat out lie, if Han and his companions, whoever they were supposed to be, wanted James and Winter dead, they would be dead by now. That, combined with a lack of demands in exchange for their release, led Ironwood to suspect that Han wanted the duo alive and out of the way, not hurt. That was merely a hunch, however, and not one he planned on burdening Weiss with the fine details of.
"I see," Weiss said. She tried to smile, but it was a weak and feeble one. Despite the brave face she was putting on, Ironwood could see it in her eyes. Fear. A fear that she had seen her sister for the last time, that something horrible would happen to her and Walker, perhaps had already happened. That the coming weeks would be dominated by news feeds of the eldest Schnee child having died a horrible death, something Ironwood had no doubt that Jacques would milk for everything that it was worth. The man loved squeezing every ounce of power, control, and wealth that he could out of the world around him, and Winter's kidnapping was a perfect opportunity for him.
"My father...he sent me a message," she said, fingering a scroll visible through a dress pocket. "He wants me to come home, straight away. There was an entire speech on how you can't be trusted, that I need to wake up, and it's time for me to stop playing at being a Huntress." Producing her scroll, she held it up to Ironwood. He quickly scanned it, an automatic scowl crossing her face. Several choice phrases caught his eye. "Your disgrace of a sister has proven what comes from directionless tantrums" being the first, with "Stay there and you'll die a pointless death like her too," being the second. What truly captured his attention, however, was the last line. "I'm sending someone over right now. Stay where you are, they'll be there in half an hour to pick you up at the entrance. I've been very lenient with you, but it's time to grow up and leave this game of yours behind. You belong here, not galivanting off with Ironwood on flights of fancy. I'll be expecting you home by midnight."
Ironwood made a mental note that Jacques knew where Weiss was. If worse came to worse, Ironwood could accuse Jacques of having access to secure military intelligence in the courts. It would be difficult to make anything stick with minimal evidence and the SDC's army of lawyers, but it would be something. For the moment, he had more important things to worry about. "Would you like to go home?" he asked kindly. "I would understand if you would. I'm already asking you to go above and beyond what's expected by a Huntress in training. If you want to spend time with your family-"
"No!" Weiss snapped, catching Ironwood off-guard. Guilt flashed across her face. "I'm sorry," she said hastily, "but no. There are murderers in Atlas, my home. I'm not going to run." Her jaw tightened and one hand gripped the rapier she had at her side. "They've already killed too many people. Winter wouldn't be happy with me if she knew I left and went back home. But even then...home isn't a respite for me General Ironwood. It isn't a safe place." Ironwood's eyes narrowed as he nodded. Yes, he had heard plenty from Winter about what kind of household Schnee manor was. A selfish and controlling father, and a mother that drowned herself in her own miseries. Even now, Ironwood could feel prickles in his spine as he remembered those conversations. The normally calm and controlled Winter seethed with anger every time she described her parents. The only positive remarks she had for home was for Weiss and a servant named Klien.
"Then if you want to stay here, you will," Ironwood said. "We are doing important work here and your father doesn't understand that." Weiss gave a scoff at this. Evidently, she thought Ironwood was being generous. "I will have someone make it clear to Ironwood that he is interfering in matters of Atlas security and that you are part of that." A small part of him knew that there would be consequences from this. Weiss was a minor, even if that would change in a few months. Her father had full legal custody and would love nothing more than to have another reason to pull national attention onto himself. What he was doing was a legal gray area, keeping a child from a father without proof of unfit parenting. Despite Ironwood having no doubt he was an unfit parent, he lacked solid evidence of abuse for courts. He didn't care though. Weiss wanted to stay, he needed her help, that was all there was to it. They would deal with Jacques later.
"Your sister would be proud. And I know I am." Weiss blushed and gave a small smile. "Now then. We're due to leave in half an hour. Let's show these murderers they picked a fight they can't win."
XXXXX
Cinder smiled as she looked away from her scroll. Jacques had passed the fifteen-minute mark in his speech on how awful Ironwood was, and he was still going strong. That should make life miserable for the good general. He had thought he was so smart, setting a trap for her. She had seen it coming from a mile away. A call to Watts had been all she had needed to create a PR disaster for Ironwood. He had taken care of it easily. Now Ironwood's attention would be diverted going forward, making her next step all the easier.
She and her followers were taking shelter in the forest until the moment was right to strike. Walker had told them that the Fall Maiden was in Atlas, due to be moved out of the country. She would never make it out. And the second Ironwood slipped up, let a tiny crack in his defenses open up, she would strike. He would keep her near, Ironwood wouldn't trust anyone else with her. It was close, so close. After that, Watts could arrange lodgings for them. With his contacts and financial reserves, it was only a matter of time. Then they could move onto the Winter Maiden.
Her attention turned to the others. Mercury was kicking a tree into splinters as part of a training exercise, Emerald was maintaining her weapons, and Rumford was gasping on the ground, his wounds bandaged and arm reattached. She scowled at the former legionary. He was proving to be a disappointment, even Torchwick was contributing more than him. Still, there was some comfort she took from his suffering.
Speaking of Torchwick, he was approaching from the edge of the clearing. A short woman in an Atlas officer's uniform was right beside him. "Oh darn, the jig is up!" he called out, exaggeratedly pointing to the woman. "We've been found out by the authorities!" The officer smirked as a pink glow overtook her. Within seconds a woman in white with pink trimmings was in her place. Her hair was half pink, half brown, a frilly pink umbrella rested on her shoulder, and her face bore mismatched eyes, mimicking her hair, and a self-satisfied smirk.
"You must understand, officer, I have children!" Torchwick said, swooning dramatically. "A daughter! She needed money! Do you have any idea how much she spends on her fancy umbrellas of death?" Neo put her hands on her hips, adopting a look of faux outrage. Cinder grimaced. They never stopped doing this.
"She needs to get back in to let us know when we have an opening. Are they onto her?" she asked bluntly. Anything to interrupt her antics. "Even Ironwood must be figuring out he has a mole. How much longer can she keep doing this?"
"Oh come now Cinder, you're not doubting us after Neo told you all about Ironwood's little ambush, are you?" Torchwick said, the duo turning their attention onto her. "And even if Ironwood learns which soldier she is, she just has to do what she did before. Umbrella to the throat, ditch the body for the Grimm to eat, and take their place. She did it for my driver and for whoever it was she was pretending to be when she came in." He clapped his hand on Neo's shoulder. "She has it." Neo puffed her chest out in pride.
"And if she slips?" Cinder asked. Why did she have to work with so many clowns? "Will she talk?"
Upon hearing this Neo cocked her hips, her hands on her side, giving Cinder a disapproving glance. "It would be a shock to everyone, herself included," Torchwick said, looking amused. "But Cinder, you need to understand something about Ironwood. His idea of interrogation is wagging his finger at you when you don't answer his question and then leaving. Being his prisoner is a cakewalk."
"Wait, that's all he did to you?" Rumford was weakly pushing himself into a sitting position. "They set Walker on me! He nearly bit my fucking face off!"
Roman blinked. "Nibbling at your face. Ok. So this Walker guy is a bit of a weirdo. Where did you say Ironwood found him again?"
"Not like that you prick!" Rumford snapped. "He did something! His face was all fucked up and his teeth were finger length! He could've fit my entire head in my jaw!"
Roman appeared unconvinced, but Neo tugged on his jacket. Producing her scroll, she spent a minute typing something out before showing it to Roman. He read it quickly, his brow rising in interest. "Looks like Neo overheard them talking. Walker has an odd Semblance. Five different abilities, but when he activates it he gets one at random. And he can only do it once a day. Oh, and she says our friend here is telling the truth. That he had a monster face." He leaned closer. "And it was terrifying. Seriously, where did Ironwood find this guy?"
Cinder said nothing. Her thoughts turned to Walker. That little parasite who had come out of nowhere and was refusing to accept that he was a pathetic ant, meddling in the affairs of his betters. That blast, the one that had shattered his Aura, had been the result of random chance. She seized up in anger. Walker was supposed to be dead, why wasn't he? Everything had been set up, but a shriveled up old man and his band of freaks had interfered.
Walker would burn. They would all burn. They would learn who she was and why she was to be feared.
"He's a pro-NCR cocksucker," Rumford growled. "Came through the portal Caesar found. Ironwood adopted a stray, that's all there is to him."
"Yeah, I've been meaning to ask," Mercury said, delivering one final kick that snapped through what was left of the tree. Creaking, it leaned to the side before crashing into the snow. "This whole thing about Rumford, Walker and Adam's new idiot friends being from another world. Do we believe any of it?" His tone of voice clearly indicated he didn't. "I mean, didn't Neo say this guy did drugs?"
"Psycho's just for the muscles you gray-haired bitch!" Rumford shouted. Muscles tensing, he tried to force himself into a sitting position.
"Careful," Mercury said tauntingly. "Mommy Cinder might have to spark you again if you have that much of a potty mouth." Rumford froze. Fearfully, he shot a glance at Cinder. She smirked at him. For all of Rumford's flaws, he understood how far beneath her he was.
"I mean," Emerald said, sliding her pistols back into her holsters. She didn't have the same carefree attitude as Mercury; her face was narrowed in concern. "Something weird is going on. That old man, Han? His body didn't look like Atlas technology. None of their equipment did. And one of them made Hazel look short. What was he?"
"A Super Mutant," Rumford said. His voice had changed completely, soft and submissive. Much better. "The big guy was a Super Mutant. They tried to take over a century ago. Freaks used to be human but got dumped in some Pre-War goop. They're tough fuckers. There was a town my old gang couldn't touch because they had one standing guard. He ripped one of us in half." Rumford made a wringing motion with his hands. "Tore the fucker open at the stomach in one go. They're big, ugly, stupid motherfuckers, but you don't want to fuck with them."
"I mean, this all sounds crazy, but I don't hear anyone coming up with a better explanation," Roman said, shrugging as he did.
"Sure, buy what the junkie said, it must be true because no one thought of anything else yet," Mercury said. A cocky grin was decorating his face.
"So you calling Cinder mommy ended up being more revealing than you meant it to be," Roman said mockingly. "Cranky? Need your juice and nap?"
Mercury was about to reply, but Cinder was not in the mood. "Enough!" she snapped. Everyone shut their mouths, giving her peaceful quiet. Getting up, she slowly walked towards Rumford. He stiffened as she approached, visibly swallowing. She deliberately took her time, letting him stew before stopping in front of him. "Are you telling me the truth?" He nodded frantically.
Cinder balanced everything in her head. Yes, it all seemed absurd. But ten years ago, an immortal master of the Grimm had seemed impossible too. Then she had met Salem and her eyes had been opened to a world of possibility. She never would have dreamed of the power that dwelt within her now. Even now, she could feel it. Ravenous, vicious, clawing at her insides to be complete. So perhaps Rumford was telling the truth. If he wasn't, it would be at his own peril.
"Roman. Get Neo back to her post. I want to know the second there's an opening." She didn't take her eyes off of Rumford.
"Actually, she's already got something for you. Ironwood's going to be leading an attack on our old friend that had more horns than sense. He heads out in an hour or two," Torchiwick said. He sounded a little nervous.
Cinder's gaze was still locked on Rumford, but a smile spread across her face. It seemed Adam was good for something after all, even if it was just as a distraction. Hours. All she had between her and being complete were hours. It was happening. It was finally happening. Beautiful. But she had to get everything in order before then. "Well. It seems we're going to be busy quite soon. I'd talk fast if I were you. Now, tell us everything."
He nodded so vigorously he was at risk of spraining his neck. "Name it, I'm a good man to have on your side!" He blubbered. "Nukes? Lasers? Ghouls? Those NCR fuckwits? I know everything!"
"Good," Cinder said. "First, nukes. What exactly is a-" she stopped mid-sentence, grimacing. An ache tore through her body. It felt like a sunburn, but on the inside of her body. She had been feeling it ever since her fight with Walker. It should've gone by now, he had barely even touched her when her Aura was down. Despite this, it hurt more than ever. What was more, a horrible pang of nausea gripped her, It came from nowhere and caused her entire body to convulse.
Before she could stop herself, she was on all fours, convulsions gripping her. Her mouth opened wide and the contents of her stomach poured out, staining the ground beneath her with sick. Rumford scrambled back as best he could. Cinder panted, not looking up. Whatever that nausea had been, it has passed. She didn't feel it in her stomach anymore, a headache was all that was left of it. Walker had only inflicted embarrassment on her. But anger flared within all the same.
"Start talking," she growled. "What are you waiting for?" They were all looking at her, enjoying her lack of dignity. She could feel it. Let them look. Within hours she would be the full Fall Maiden. After that, she would find out who Han was, where he was keeping Walker, and what she would do to both of them. Tingles shot through her at the thought. The list was already so long, and she was just getting started.
XXXXX
Blake forced herself to breathe in the belly of the Bullhead that she and her team were riding in. It was happening. They were on their way to where the Legion and Adam's White Fang were suspected to be camping for the night. Adam, for all his skill, would be hard-pressed to escape from this, and there was no outcome where he didn't take heavy losses.
She swallowed. So much of the White Fang has abandoned him, only his true believers still followed him. Why had it needed to come to this? They were scared people trying to fight injustice, how had it ended with them allying with slavers? How much of this was her fault? Had she escalated matters, the old head of the White Fang's daughter helping the bold new front? The one who had been tied at the hip to Adam, the face of escalating violence? What if this was all because of her? What if-
"Blake?" Yang was looking at her. At that moment, golden locks and lilac eyes pulled her out of her spiral. She blinked. Then she looked away. She wasn't ready to admit how guilty she felt, or how much she wished the upcoming fight could be avoided. It was too much.
"Blake?" A pause. Then Yang's voice changed. It became soft. Playful. "Blake? Cat got your tongue?" Blake blinked. Then she let out a long, loud groan. If anyone who wasn't a friend or family member had said that, she would've punched them. When Yang said it, it wasn't hurtful. It was painful though, painful in a way that only bad jokes could be.
"Really?" she said, looking at Yang with the best disapproving state she could manage. "Really?"
Yang was wearing a cheeky grin as if it was a badge of honor. "Paw-don me," she said. Oh please no. "I was just worried about how you were feline." Anything but this. "And we could use a meowment of relief." Why?
"I know where you sleep," Blake said, her voice stony.
"Is that because you use my bed for cat-naps?" Yang winked.
Lifting her hand up, Blake flicked Yang's forehead. She winced, but her grin grew even wider as she rubbed where she had been struck. In spite of herself, Blake could feel the ghost of a smile forming on her lips. She forced it down. Smiling here would mean Yang had won. "Careful Blake, we're flying. Distract the pilot and we might have a cat-astrophic accident."
Despite Blake willing her face to be cold and rigid, an unwilling, strangled snerk leaked out of her mouth. It turned into a dignity deprived wheeze as her hand shot out, flaccidly pushing at Yang. The blond girl tumbled back over, laughing every step of the way. "Shut up," Blake gasped out between her laughs. "I will shave you while you sleep."
Yang gave an overly dramatic gasp from where she was lying across the chairs, bundling together her waterfall of gold hair. "How could you! I thought Weiss would be the one to spite shave me."
"I haven't ruled it out!" Weiss called out. She and Ruby were sitting across from them. Weiss was scowling, her legs crossed and arms folded so tightly that Blake wasn't sure how they would ever separate.
Ruby let out a strangled, concerned noise. "Please don't. I like you alive," she said, her eyes shining in Weiss's direction.
"I wouldn't kill her Ruby," Yang said, winking at Weiss. The unspoken implication was lost on none of them. Weiss glared, Yang grinned, Blake attempted to stop laughing with mixed results. Ruby looked back and forth between them all before breaking the sort of deadlock.
"We should do something when this is all over."
"Oh!" Yang said, almost bouncing out of her seat, utterly bubbling with energy. "We should-"
"No," Blake said immediately. She knew what was coming. It was best to nib this one in the bud.
"But I didn't-" Yang started.
"No," Blake said.
Yang turned to her sister, eyes wide and pleading. "Ruby, come on!"
Ruby gave a smile that was far too wide; it failed to hide the obvious discomfort. "I agree with Blake," Weiss said firmly. "No clubs. They aren't my scene, they aren't her scene, and they most certainly aren't your sister's scene." Ruby nodded sheepishly.
"But-But I know a really good-" Yang started.
"No," Blake said. Yang slouched back in defeat. "Dinner would be nice though. Just the four of us." Doing a full 180, Yang sprang back up, wide-eyed and eager. "Excited dog" was the only proper way to describe it. It was contagious, and Blake's heart couldn't help but beat a little faster. No Adam, no Legion, just her three best friends, and good food. That sounded so nice right now. She wished she was there right now.
"Maybe we can invite some other people," Blake said. Her focus turned to Weiss. They had all seen the news. Weiss was putting on a brave face. Part of the pre-mission briefing had included Ironwood telling them that both Winter and James had been taken prisoner, but a rescue was already underway. Supposedly, they would be back within days. But Blake knew Weiss had to be hurting. "Your sister would be welcome."
Weiss nodded, swallowing as she did. "Thank you," she said. Her voice was strained. "So, what's the plan for when we land?" Blake felt thrown off balance. Weiss was blatantly deflecting the topic away from her sister. Part of her wanted to pursue the topic, but Ruby locked eyes with Blake and shook her head. Weiss's back was currently to Ruby, meaning she didn't see it. Confusion seized Blake. This didn't feel right, she had to say something, anything. But what would she even say? Had the White Fang been the ones who took Winter? That would be nothing short of a nightmare, the things she had heard Adam say about what he would do to a Schnee. Even during her days of a loyal member, those rants had disturbed her. Now they terrified her.
"We're not charging in, we're holding a line," Ruby said. Her eyes lingered on her sister for a second. Yang hummed in exaggerated ignorance. "So we need to spread out, we're a net catching strays. We only form up if they try and make a concentrated break out. Engage from range if you can, they'll be running from the main force so they'll be panicked. Call out any runners you see but can't get too. If we bunch up, one or two might escape. Weiss? If you see an opening for your ice walls to funnel them in, use it." Weiss nodded sternly, her face hardening.
Reluctantly, Blake began to understand what Ruby was doing. They only had so much time before they would be in the middle of a combat situation. Time wasn't something they had enough of. It sucked, but it was the reality they were stuck with. She wanted to pull Weiss close, hug her tight and tell her that it was going to be ok. Later. Later she would make it right with Weiss. She would have to.
"ETA sixty seconds to drop!" the pilot called from the front of the Bullhead.
Ruby nodded. "Equipment check." Gambol Shroud was in tip-top shape; Blake had already checked it twice during the flight over, but she gave it a quick look over all the same. This was it. Adam had to be stopped. Maybe there were other ways this could've ended years ago. Talking him down, reining him in, something, anything. The tip of her blade gleamed in the light. A peaceful conclusion had gone a long time ago. She felt sick.
XXXXX
James wasn't sure how he had gotten into the Lucky 38. There was an itch at the back of his mind that something about this didn't add up, but he couldn't put his finger on it. All he knew was that he was in House's personal suite, standing in front of one of the many full wall windows that lined it, pretentious muzak playing somewhere behind him.
Vegas was burning beneath him. Marked Men and legionaries marched through the streets, he could see them as clearly as if he was next to him. Cinder Fall was above them, smiling sadistically as she flew through the air, torching the city beneath her. Atlas soldiers were meeting them in a bloody deadlock, Securitrons providing support. Except some of the Atlas soldiers weren't fighting. A few were hanging out towards the back, spray painting the spear and shield of Atlas on the Securitrons.
"They're democratic too, aren't they? Moronic, when they call themselves a kingdom. But you know how people can be when it comes to insubstantial naming. I'm surprised Caesar didn't follow Commodus's lead, give himself twelve names, and declare himself the heir of Hercules. You also know how people can be when they think every drooling troglodyte's opinion mattered. This is child's play by comparison." House was there. His body wasn't aged, its lifespan artificially lengthened by centuries, shriveled to the point of barely being alive. He was fit, healthy, and dressed in a fine suit. He was sitting behind a desk that James didn't remember being there, idly looking into a snowglobe of Vegas. Fire burned inside the snow globe, creeping along the edges, leaving faint cracks in its wake. "This is a fine mess you've made. A genuine demi-god trying to kill you, as opposed to the pseudo one on the far side of the Colorado? How do you keep topping yourself?"
"You're the last person I want to talk to right now," James growled, going for his pistol. It wasn't there. He could've sworn it had been a mere minute ago.
"Oh come now, shooting me in the face didn't free you of me for your first attempt, why would it this time?" House said. "You have your clever moments, but so often you come off as a Neanderthal smashing rocks together. Have you ever considered stopping and planning ahead? Beyond your current hand?"
James didn't remember when they had started playing Blackjack, but two cards were in front of them and House was idly dealing his own cards from a fully stocked shoe. Instinctively, he looked at his hands. The cards were intelligible gibberish, black scribbles wiggling of their own power covering them. "Or do you plan on taking the idiot's route of doubling down until either the bank breaks or you do? Because it looks like you're finally starting to reach the latter." A severed ear lay on the table now, in the direct center point between them. Black ooze trickled out of it. "The House wins, it seems," he said. "Another hand?"
James said nothing, glaring at House. "Oh, do grow up." The snowglobe hit the table, cracks now spider webbing the entire thing. Disgust slowly inched onto House's face as he spoke. "The most insufferable gambler is the one who can't recognize when the table is against them. Who keeps playing until they haven't a cent to their name. With you, it's gone long beyond that point, even though you were doing so well earlier." He straightened his back out, returning James's glare. "There's a way back to Earth, the Legion will be looking for it. Vegas cannot withstand a siege from them now, it will break. And even if it doesn't, you've confined it to a much worse fate. Which one?" He gestured to the window. "Oh, take your pick. Neo-colonialism, inter-racial terrorism and, oh, what was her name again? The immortal witch?"
A clenched fist slammed into the table. "You know, as narcissistic as it would've been, I would've preferred if you had killed me because you had thought you would have run Vegas better than I," he continued. "Vegas would've had a leader then, one with an indestructible army and better than that jumped up con-man, Benny. America has produced worse leaders than you, simpletons so lacking in desirable traits that they focused on their melanin levels and skull shapes. Insufferable children playing doctor, all of them. They did nothing but waste the talents of men and women much more clever than them in the name of their inane ideologies and misplaced pride. You were better qualified than them from sheer lack of brain damage. Now? Vegas's forces are quartered with the survivors hobbled, politicians are more concerned about how much tax money they can leech out of it, and it will never be more than a point of contention between the NCR and the Legion. A fortified gambling town in a pointless war between children. So thank you, Walker, thank you for destroying humanity's chances at evolving beyond scavengers playing in the graveyard of the old world instead of cashing out while you were ahead and letting me handle it. So. Another hand?"
"You believe Han?" James said. Something was wrong. He was looking at House, but he could see outside the windows too. There was no more fire, but they hadn't been extinguished. Darkness was creeping through the streets below him, swallowing everything up. The light wasn't vanishing in the natural way of the sun setting, slowly fading away, it was dying. And when the light faded, the darkness pounced, and everything it touched ceased to exist. "You believe that nonsense?"
"I don't believe any of this nonsense," House said. He was no longer a handsome man in a suit. He was nearly naked, his flesh green and emaciated, his body frail. He was barely able to support himself by placing both hands on the table. "But that hasn't stopped this world of monsters, Olympians, and far greater. The horrors beyond the corners of your vision don't care if you believe in them or not. Now. Answer me. Another hand? Or will you finally wise up?"
James locked eyes with him. He had no idea what he was feeling right now. The darkness was closing in on him, clawing its way up the tower. Something was creeping up the back of his spine, whispering in his ear. The only thing he could hear was a few scattered screams of terror, even one that sounded suspiciously like Cinder's. "Deal," he said, without truly knowing why. House gave a loud sigh, looking at him with disappointment. Two cards slid across the table to him. He looked down.
A soft snore reached his ears. His eyes burst open. It took him a moment to realize where he was. Then it all came back. He was sitting on the floor in the Scattered's cell. Judging by the stiff feeling in his back, he had fallen asleep against the metal frame of the bed. He was about to push himself up when he felt a breeze on his shoulder.
Winter was still sitting next to him, sleeping soundly. It wasn't exactly a graceful image. Her arms were gracelessly splayed at her side at random angles, her temple was awkwardly pressed against the bedframe, and a bit of drool was leaking out of her mouth and onto her jacket. Odds were she'd wake up with a stiffness quite similar to what James was experiencing right now. A warm feeling blossomed in him, a delightfully warm feeling. She had stayed down here with him.
Smiling, he looked up at the ceiling. Then the haze of sleep and panic of the nightmare began to fade. He had told her. Oh god, he had told her everything. Well, almost everything. One or two key details had been left out, but they had been incredibly personal. Besides, they were less important than the truth about the Divide. He had only ever admitted his hand in the creation of the Divide to his traveling companions, and that had been a moment of living hell. Their reactions had been just like Winter's, saying that it wasn't his fault. But as with Winter, the words had felt hollow. What did it matter if he couldn't have known? He had still played a role in all those deaths. Ignorance hadn't spared the Marked Men from their fate, what good was it for his conscience?
Winter snored again. It broke him out of his thoughts. Seeing someone as strict and buttoned up as Winter snore felt odd. This felt like a side of her she would want to keep separate from her public life. Smiling, he stood up. Moving as silently as he could, he collected a few blankets from her bed. Their cell was a little on the cold side. Glancing at his Pip-Boy, he saw that it was two in the morning. There didn't seem to be much to do aside from trying to get enough sleep to handle whatever the morning and the Scattered had in store for them.
Crossing back to Winter, he gently covered her with the blankets. She gave a soft groan and shifted in her sleep. Maybe he imagined it, but James was certain he saw a faint smile on her face. Part of him wanted to climb into his bed and enjoy the rest of the night with a soft mattress to his back. But, on the other hand, Winter had stayed on the ground with him. Would it be fair if he didn't return the favor? It certainly didn't seem that way.
His mind made up, he grabbed some blankets for himself, took a pillow, and made himself comfortable next to her. But even as he rested his head and closed his eyes, his mind was racing. There was so much going on right now. Atlas had an interest in nuclear weapons, the Legion had superpowered soldiers, Cinder had abilities beyond even the limits of Remnant, the Scattered were operating in the shadows, and he only had half the answers to all of these problems. Even if he were to get out of here tomorrow, he wouldn't know where to start in tackling everyone.
But there was the one silver lining. He wasn't alone.
XXXXX
Camp had been made an hour ago, the strike team was long gone. Irritation had slipped back into Adam the moment it had left. So, all this time the Legion had wanted to secure a way to reinforce themselves, to bring in more warriors. So why was he not able to rally more of the White Fang? The Legion already had more men in camp than the White Fang, with hundreds more on the way. He had barely been able to muster two-hundred fighters.
Rage flowed through him. Selina Khan. The coward, the hypocrite. She had been the one who had pushed back against Ghira's limp wristed pacifism, who had lifted him up. But now she held back the majority of the White Fang, ordering them not to join his cause. Nearly all of his efforts to reach out had been met with silence. He was out here, doing far more than the sniveling little bitch had ever done, and suddenly it was too much for her. She wanted to back down, to prostrate before the humans because she didn't have the stomach for blood, real blood.
He had thought the Belladonnas had been the extent of the pathetic elements of the White Fang. Clearly, the problem ran much deeper. The White Fang was rotten to the core with the weak-willed, the decrepit, and traitors. It seemed that he had found the only members willing to truly fight for their better world. The organization, as a whole, had failed and betrayed him.
It would have to be burnt to the ground. There was no salvaging the organization as it stood, compromised, and impure. He would have to rebuild it from the ground up, filled with true believers. Men and women that were willing to fight and die for the cause, truly loyal to him and the Faunus people. No more Ghiras. No more Selinas. No more Blakes. Only a supreme army that would put the humans in their place, beneath the Faunus.
He moved forward. Vulpes had set up his tent towards the back of the camp. As he moved, the smell of faint food long since eaten and the smoke of waning fires crept onto him. It was late, very late, most of the camp was asleep. Only the occasional sentry or stumbling soldier looking for an isolated tree were up and about. His superior Faunus eye let him make out the shapes and positions of the tents with ease, even if he could only make out finer details where campfires shed light. Adam could see a fire roaring through the flaps of the largest tent, a sigh of activity when most were sleeping. He marched through it.
Vulpes was sitting in front of a raging bonfire, the smoke escaping through an open flap in the roof. The old man called Lucius sat across from Vulpes, while the Signifier sat at the head of the fire, silent. Half a dozen others, their hair styled into Mohawk, sat behind them, but Adam ignored them. "It is quite late Adam, we were about to turn in," Vulpes said, his voice silky smooth. "How might we be of service?"
"What is your plan for the rest of the White Fang?" Adam asked sharply. This had to be dealt with now, or the cause of Faunus liberation would die forever. It would be killed by the unworthy and the cowards. "The ones who abandoned me when I called for an attack on our oppressors? When do we march on them and make them pay for their treachery? We need to set every one of their strongholds ablaze! Every last one in Atlas and Mantle, our victory here will be tainted if it comes before they fall."
"Your former brothers?" Lucius said, his lips curling in a frown. "That is not something we will concern ourselves with. The Legion has set to secure stable routes to its home territory for reinforcements and supplies. We are only able to march thanks to planted supply caches that we spent months preparing. Even then, we have exhausted half of them already. We have neither the time nor the resources for you pursuing petty grudges."
"Petty? PETTY!?" Rage pulsed through Adam. He had only met Lucius a couple of days ago, and he could already tell he hated the senile old man. "They have turned their backs on me, on our cause! They're traitors! They need to burn!" Incompetence, he was surrounded by incompetence on all sides. The Faunus, the majority of the White Fang, Blake, and now even the upper echelons of the Legion, the people he had thought he could trust, were proving themselves to be small-minded people. They didn't see the bigger picture.
Lucius's eyes narrowed. "You are a friend of the Legion, the warriors of the Legion are not yours to call on for what you please," he said. "Do you see us demanding your soldiers fight the NCR for us? We both stand to gain from the attack on Atlas. All either of us would gain from a purge of your former allies is a depleted fighting force. Set aside your personal grudges, boy."
Adam seethed. He dared? This pathetic old man dared? He took a step forward, his hand subconsciously moving towards Wilt and Brush. Before he could act further, however, Vulpes stood up. "Now now, Lucius. There's no need for harsh reprimands where simple tact will suffice. Our friend's demands are quite reasonable." A smile flitted across Vulpes's pale face. "Cowardice and treason are met with sword and fire, as is fitting, in the Legion. Let us not blame our allies for having the wisdom to wish to do the same."
The anger in Adam vanished, replaced by a feeling of smug superiority. It seemed he wouldn't need to put Lucius in his place, Vulpes had already done him the honors. "To answer your question, nothing truly can be done about them until our vanguard forces have secured a reinforcement route and Atlas has been dealt with. As Lucius said, to do so would ravage our forces. I urge caution Adam, greatness has never belonged to those without sense. And I can foresee much greatness in your future. Tell me. What spectacular plans do you have for this planet?"
Adam had a flicker of a desire to protest, but a fire was lit in him upon Vulpes's question. His plans? Oh, the plans he had. "A grand army of the Faunus, for starters. I will find the truly loyal, the true patriots of the Faunus cause, and show them their true potential. A new world will await all of us, one that puts to shame any pathetic civilization the humans were ever able to build. Even your Legion will be in awe of it. The non-believers will be shown the error of their ways, and the traitors will share the fate of the Humans. Bound in chains, like your profligates! The Humans will know that we are superior to them!"
Vulpes smiled. Adam blinked. For a second, he could've sworn that it was amused and mocking, the smile one saved for children. But then he spoke. "Of course you are. Your might is impeccable, we are honored to bask in its light." Pride washed away all of Adam's doubts. "Please, do tell us more." Several of the other legionaries fidgeted noticeably. Lucius shot Vulpes a noticeable glare. Only the Signifier remained still, staring into the fire. Feeling secure and superior, Adam prepared to continue. He had spent countless years planning a better world, it was a pleasure to share it.
At that moment, however, something caught his attention. A faint whirring sound, coming from outside the tent, obviously far away. It sounded as if something was rushing through the air. And then, the world around him was consumed in chaos. Without warning, heat and forced tore into him, sending him flying outside of the tent and landing on the cold, hard ground. In the fraction of a second, before he hit the ground, he saw a ball of fire consuming the tent, setting ablaze what it did not tear to shreds. One of the legionaries soared through the air, both of his legs missing and his body limp, while another tumbled out of the side, roaring in agony as the inferno spread across his entire body.
Adam's ears rang as he climbed back to his feet. It wasn't just the leadership tent. Dozens of explosions, each of them the same size as the one that Adam had been caught in, were blooming to life across the joint camp. Howls of agony, shrieks of terror, and sickening sounds of bodies behind torn and twisted filled the air. The camp had been dark before, lit only by the pinpricks of campfires, but the detonations shed new light on it. Adam could see over half the camp as clearly as if it was in daylight, but his eyesight showed him the horrors in the dark as well. Dozens of figures coated the ground. Some of them were lifeless corpses with stomachs and sides torn open by shrapnel, intestines, and blood pooling on the ground around them. Others were alive but badly wounded, cradling at the stumps of limbs or clutching at grievous gashes. Countless others staggered about, clutching at their ears, blinking in confusion.
Then, over the anarchy the camp had descended into, Adam saw it. A flight of aircraft arching towards the front of the camp, how far from where he was standing he couldn't tell and coming to a halt. Their bay doors opened a good hundred feet above the ground, and figures poured out of them. Adam couldn't make them out in the dark, the aircraft were too far from the now blazing camp, but he could make out the flares of jetpacks slowing the falls of many of them. As well as the sheer volume of them. And the one that was so large that when it hit the ground, he could hear the impact even from this distance.
Gunfire began to echo from the figures in the dark, their outlines dimly illuminated by rows of flashing gun barrels. The huge figure lumbered forward, a white light shining on it before shooting forward in a lance. It hit the ground just in front of one of the tents that hadn't been damaged in the first barrage, consuming it in a ball of white light. When it faded, five dead men in White Fang armor scattered the ground. The figures held their position, peppering the front of the camp with gunfire, gunning down a dozen men in just as many seconds. Through the fire, Adam could make them out for the first time. Atlas.
Adam's mouth opened wide as a roar born deep within his gut escaped out of it. Wilt shone in the firelight as he drew it from Brush, his knees bending to charge forward. "Stop!" A hand clasped on his shoulder, pulling him back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Vulpes, his armor badly singed, his normally collected expression replaced with one of raw panic. "Do you intend to break their lines yourself?"
Adam thrust his arm backward. Brush's hilt slammed deep into Vulpes's gut, forcing the older man to double over and ripping a choked wheeze out of him. "Exactly," he growled. "Try to stop me and you'll share their fate." Again, he prepared to advance. Much heavier plumes of fire had joined the ones already shining up and down the Atlas firing line. From the looks of it, machine-gun emplacements had been set up where rocks and trees could act as cover. Those cowards would be the first to die.
"Do you have a way of reaching all of your men?" Adam paused. It wasn't Vulpes who had spoken. The Signifier was striding from the ruins of the burning tent, Lucius behind them. "Even in this chaos?"
"Why?" Adam snarled. He didn't have time for this. With every passing second, more Faunus were out there being slaughtered by Humans. Now this puppet wanted to lecture him. The bay doors of the aircraft swung shut and they rose up, spinning to face the camp. As they did, their noses burst to life as belly-mounted machine-guns opened fire, raking the front of the camp. At least six men died in the few seconds that Adam watched.
"Because if you can, do so now. Tell them to embrace what comes, otherwise, it will pass over them and be wasted. It's their only hope of survival." As he spoke, the Signifier gripped at his White Fang masked and pulled. The mask fell to the ground. An old, bald, wrinkled man stood before Adam. His face was hard, and his eyes were narrowed. Then he spoke.
"Profligates Delenda Est!"
The words were like nothing Adam had ever heard. They reverberated across the entire battlefield, a deafening weight to them. Everything in the cacophony of noise that had gripped the camp bowed before the weight of the old man's voice. For a single second, everything stopped. All those present, Atlas, White Fang, and Legion, staggered under the brunt of the shout. The Atlas soldiers recovered quickly, resuming fire. Among the ranks of the defenders, some of which were forming their own line, something else was happening. Flashes, bright multi-colored flashes, gripped them, enveloping them. Aura. It was Aura. Dozens of their fighters were showing Aura, far more than they had ever had in camp, even before Lanius had left with his team.
The Signifier had done this.
"Tell your men to accept what has come over them," he said. "Or the legionaries alone will receive my blessings. It is a requirement, non-negotiable." Adam stared at him in disbelief. Then went for the short-range radio he had at his side. "This is Adam, our allies have given us the tools to crush the Humans. Embrace what he is doing and victory will be ours! Now!" Lowering the radio, he looked out again. There was a moment where nothing happened, a lag created by his men processing his orders. Then, once again, a rainbow of colors flashed through the camp. Yes. Oh, yes.
The Signifier stepped forward and spoke again. His words echoed across the camp, not with the same level of power as before, but with a deafening clarity all the same. "Men of the Legion. It is as I promised. I have given you the power to defeat our enemies. The strength that flows through you, that has risen you up above any profligate. This is the true nature of the Pax Romana, of the Legion itself. Now go. Show these profligates, doomed to repeat the ways of the Old World, the true might of the Legion. Show them that they are obsolete. The die is cast."
Cries of defiance cropped up from the camp. One or two fighters fell from Atlas fire, their newly awakened Aura shattering and leaving them exposed, but the tide of death was stemmed. Fire was being returned now. A trio of White Fang, bars heads revealing their animal ears, charged forward firing as they went. Machine-gun fire tore into them as they ran, eating away at their defenses. Two of them collapsed under the strain, their Aura breaking and enemy rounds snuffing out their lives. The final one did not fall, he was able to reach the Atlas line. Pleasure and pride coursed through Adam in equal measure as the Faunus swung a knife at an Atlas soldier. Even through all the armor, the soldier's head went flying. The Faunus moved to swing again, only to jerk back and fall to the ground. A hole had sprouted in his head, blood oozing out of it.
"We will flank them and catch them in a pincer," the man said, turning to face Vulpes and Lucius. He pointed to a duo of legionaries with covered faces. One wore an elaborate set of armor with detailed muscles covering the chest plate, as well as a half helm with a red plume on it. The other had a heavy metal helmet that had a symbol of a sword parting cogs, decorated with white and red feathers. "Giaus Magnus, gather your centuria and head out through the rear of the camp, then come at them from behind. We will crush them."
The man in the half helm nodded. "Tiberius, with me," he said, glancing at the legionary next to him.
"Yes, brother," Tiberius replied. The two vanished, heading in the opposite direction as the Atlas forces. The two of them called out in that strange language the legionaries liked to speak, and at once dozens of warriors flocked to the pair of brothers. He stepped forward. These two would be the driving force behind the White Fang's victory tonight. Where else could he go but with them? His journey came to an abrupt halt when the Signifier stepped in front of him.
"While Gaius and Tiberius move out through the rear, they will doubtless face resistance," the old man said. "Atlas would not be foolish enough to give us an unguarded escape route. But they will think that breakout is our primary escape attempt. While the brothers fight there, we, the leadership of the White Fang and the Legion, will escape to the side. Any who breaks out of this cage first will then be able to assist the other, and the deathblow for your enemies will be even greater. Join me in what will doubtless be the most dangerous aspect of this entire battle. You, me, Lucius, Vulpes, and my guard. We will shatter the ranks of the profligates and litter the ground with their bodies."
The man's words were like honey to his ear. Any frustration he had felt were long gone. In fact, this was perfect. Atlas was right here, no doubt with high ranking officers that had been specifically dispatched to eliminate him. And they were retaliating with a flanking maneuver that mirrored the early Faunus rebellions. It was perfect. Too perfect.
Vulpes was next to the Signifier, grinning from ear to ear. "Caesar has spoken! Forward! We shall not shirk in the face of our cowardly enemy! They will taste defeat and know fear!"
Something clicked. So, that was the Caesar the Legion had boasted of. In the back of his mind, Adam felt a tiny gnawing. Why had the Legion not used this before? Why had they needed his help if they could do this at will? Why had they not told him about this before? Why had Caesar been in disguise? Wasn't he supposed to be a trusted ally of the Legion? How did that mesh with such a massive secret?
Only a small part of him was worried though. The rest of him was quivering with excitement. Lucius shouted and a dozen men with mohawks and strange gauntlets formed up on him. Adam had seen them before, Vulpes had described them as some sort of elite guard. Now he knew who for. "Forward!" Lucius led the charge, flanked by the guard on either side, with Vulpes and Caesar right behind them.
Adam looked one last time at the two sides trading fire. He had wanted a war, hadn't he? And what better way to prove the objective inferiority of humans than beating them in a battle they had started and picked the conditions for. It would be a shocking truth that would echo throughout the world. Tonight, he was igniting the revolution. The White Fang would be revitalized in a way never seen before. And he was at the front of it all. Grinning, he followed after his allies.
XXXXX
Author's Note: I will publicly flagellate myself for those cat puns. You have my deepest apologies. Also I get the feeling that this is the RWBY equivalent of "this would be deeply racist if it wasn't my best friend saying it." On another note, I wanted to have Tiberius be the more senior of him and Gaius , but then someone on my writing Discord reminded me of Gaius Magnus, the boss tier enemy you can only face if you nuke Dry Wells in Lonesome Road. So I thought to make that Gaius the Gaius that Caesar happened to have with him, and his big brother Tiberius is his junior. Having a conquered tribe on your resume does wonders for advancement in the Legion.
Thank you for being patient. Life has been kicking my ass as of late, and I really haven't been in much of a writing mood. A lot of it personal stuff that I won't bore you with the details of.
I would like to thank my legacy Patrons, SuperFeatherYoshi, xXNanamiXx, RaptorusMaximus, Davis Swinney, Mackenzie Buckle, Ryan Van Schaack, ChaosSpartan575, and LordofNaught for their amazing support.