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Troll in the Reviews-

So like Couer, I have a troll in my reviews. Soda something, doesn't matter. Ignore 'em, report 'em for spam, is up to you. Enjoy the story!

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He, Cordovin and her two burly guards quickly found and appropriated a sleek little shuttle for their purposes, departing with the speed that someone of her command could enable. Their craft moved with all speed, so that even hanging onto the overhead rails of the light craft he nearly fell twice. And yet for all that speed, it still felt like ages passed before the craft angled for a landing. The doors hissed and slid out, raising as the sounds of sirens and horns filled the air, and smoke and ash filled their noses.

Below them, a street stretched south and north, with tall buildings pressed tight and rising high one one side and what was unmistakably a school on the other. He had fought on enough Human worlds to recognize such a place. It was a simple, brickwork affair, shaped like a Human 'L' with a play area set in the space beside the street for the Human young to enjoy their break in and the 'L' curving around it.

Now, though, that playground had been flattened by the same explosion that brought down the third of the building set against the road. The explosion had ripped apart the streetside wall entirely, and blasted through the walls interior to it as well. Without the walls to support it, the roof had fallen in to form a hill to one side, sloped and broken by a handful of surviving, skeleton-like frames and walls which had survived the explosion. Huge holes had been dug in the rubble where white armor and uniforms glinted amidst the smoke still rising from the smoldering ruins.

For a moment, as he blinked, white and grey were replaced by khaki and green, and the calls of the sirens and soldiers were replaced by roars and the hissing of plasma. Then he blinked again and the sins were gone, replaced by equally tragic reality.

"Animals…" Cordovin murmured as they watched her men work. Some turned their gazes on him in question, but each time they did the woman snapped commands to send them on their way, establishing a cordon or assisting in the search and rescue. "Do you see now why I am not particularly fond of the beasts?"

"My blood boils for blood, Cordovin." He warned, only turning enough to look down on her. Her eyebrows rose at the word, having evidently expected this to change his tune. "I do not believe that insulting my comrade is a particularly wise decision."

"Is that a threat…?"

"Yes." He rumbled, her guards stiffening behind her even as he turned back to the ruined school and added, "Though one borne of rage, rather than righteousness. Forgive me."

"It is done." And to his genuine surprise, it sounded as though she meant it. An oddity, given his appraisal of her. "I can understand your anger, Arbiter. This is… A tragedy."

"Indeed." He nodded, "And I am-"

"I need help up here!" A voice suddenly called, a soot-covered soldier scrabbling over the brick hill and looking around in a panic, his oxygen mask hanging around his neck. Cordovin stepped forward and he saw her and recognized her, practically begging, "We need a lift and a micro-cutter! We have students trapped under some rubble and a reinforcement beam!"

"A micro-cutter? For a beam reinforcement?!" She snapped back in answer, gesturing in spite of her words for nearby soldiers to retrieve one. "What's the spacing? The weight?"

"B-Barely a foot, Ma'am!" He reported, "At the base of the hole! We have to hurry- The smoke is thick down there. My helmet filters it..."

"A cutter won't get through in time…" Cordovin murmured, turning and bellowing, "Get a damn Paladin down here right now! Digging equipment set up! We're shoveling through from the front end to-"

"There is no time!" He snarled, hurling his cloak at one of her guards and loping towards the mound.

Two soldiers, on orders to cordon the area, were in his way but where he expected to be blocked they instead stepped to the side as he vaulted the stone fence. Scrabbling up the broken brickwork he was met by two more and the man who had called for aid who all helped pull him up to his feet, the soot covered soldier pointing down a deep hole framed by thick poles to tell him where to go. One of the three turned to him with security straps to allow him to climb down but he ignored him.

Instead of climbing down, he leapt into the darkness, dropping the dozen feet and grunting with the impact. It was dark, but the Bane illuminated the space well enough as ropes spindled down around him. Only one heavy steel beam could be seen, along with a gap at its base barely big enough for him to reach down and fit his hand through. A tiny hand found it, gripping so tightly his heart ached.

"You have taken enough lives, Bane." He murmured around the choking smoke as he pulled his hand free and stood, raising the weapon above one side so that the rubble would not shift. "Let us save some."

The Bane crackled and hissed its agreement, cutting through the steel with the eagerness it did through flesh. As the cut cleared through, the soldier from before reached him and ignored him. Kneeling, he shoved a small mask into the little gap and shouted, "Share this, kids! We have a lifter coming down in a few minutes!"

"No time." He rumbled again, shoving the Bane into his hands and ordering, "Protect this with your life, Human. And prepare to extract the children."

"For…?" In answer, he knelt, his powerful hands ripping up the broken wooden flooring under the ash and rubble for more purchase. Seeing what he was aiming for, the man stood and bellowed, "Get the damn rescue harnesses ready and watch the rubble! H-He's going to lift it!"

A distant, muted, "He's fuckin' what," filtered down but he ignored it.

Hands under the cut beam he took a deep breath, choked on the smoke, and snarled. The weight was monumental, tons of bricks and iron heaped around the trapped children. To even attempt this was as likely to kill them as leaving them there. But to make them wait, passing around a small oxygen mask with a supply barely half his lower leg in size… That was as sure to be a death sentence as anything else could possibly be.

"If any gods would hear me," he rumbled, "grant me strength."

Mandibles clenched, he rested his head against the beam and closed his eyes. Then, with all the power of his mind and body aligned, he lifted. As hard as he could, pulling the beam up while the soldier watched. For a moment, his arms trembled and he feared he lacked the strength. For a moment, his mandibles clenched and his fingers ached, sharp metal edges biting into skin and bleeding him. A shame, among the Sangheili, to bleed outside of battle, but a shame he suffered gladly. For a moment, he considered turning to prayer that the lifter would arrive in time to aid the little ones.

Then, small hands gripped his own, trembling and frail. Afraid. Human children, afraid of death and clinging to he who would have murdered them and been thankful to less than a decade prior…

Roaring his defiance, he refused to fail and felt strength rush through him like lightning. Finally, the steel shifted and rose, an inch at first and then another. Then three, and seven, and finally he could duck under the beam and hold the weight across his shoulders, pushing and lifting with his legs rather than his arms. Finally, the beam rose to half his height, the rubble beyond held up by a crushed door. At the edges, more brickwork fell in around the shifting door.

But three blackened, small forms scrambled towards him regardless of the raining debris. The soldier, kneeling, met each of them and pulled them through and into the great pit. A second soldier, hanging horizontally, took two in his arms as they began to cry and climbed up using the ropes securing him.

"Are there more?" He demanded of the soldier, trembling for the great burden on his shoulders. He ducked past him and looked, then came back and shook his head. And so he ordered, "Shield the child."

When he dropped the beam, it slammed down with a heavy finality, the rubble shifting around them violently. But no more came for them and he turned, looking down on a child that barely passed halfway up his thighs. Pale skin hidden under ash, she looked up at him for a moment, eyes wide, blue and afraid.

"You are safe, child." He assured her, sinking to his knees for his exhaustion and drawing choking breaths. To the soldier he ordered, "Get her out of here."

"You too. You've been breathing too much smoke for a… Whatever you are." He nodded, leaving her and standing as a pair of harnesses were lowered. Swiftly, the soldier strapped them around him and pressed the girl into his arms.

To Thel's shock, the girl curled into his chest, trembling and weak. His bare arm wrapped around her while the other took the Bane back from the soldier. The man shouted a command and he felt himself being hoisted up and out of the pit. More soldiers met him, helping him down the slope while he carried the girl before resuming their own search and cleanup. At the base of the slope two soldiers came to take the girl, who he handed off gently.

"T-Thank you…" The voice was so quiet he almost missed it in the cacophony, but he heard it just.

Kneeling, he bowed his head and resisted the urge to affect a smile, knowing his bared teeth would only frighten her. Gently, hearing the approach of Cordovin and her bodyguards, he answered swiftly, "You are most welcome, young one. Be safe and find peace."

"You saved three Atlesian lives. Put yourself in harm's way for them..." Cordovin murmured as he rose and turned to her, taking his neatly folded cloak from the soldier when he offered it. Face flat and eyes hard, she added, "I won't forget that, Arbiter. I owe you a debt."

"Three." He corrected, "And I would fold them all into one repayment."

"I have told you, the long range transmitter is disabled." She answered, genuinely looking regretful for the answer she had to give. "Had I the men, I would-"

"You misunderstand." She hadn't, in fact, misunderstood, but letting her believe so worked to his benefit. Politics, in a sense, and though he detested them he saw a way to turn their tricks to righteousness for once. "The favors I would like in repayment are two to the same end. The direction of these animals' flight, and leave to hunt them without fear of reprisal."

"Reprisal…"

"Forgive me, but I presume that you do not exactly encourage random persons taking law into their own hands." For effect, he took the Bane from his hip and held it up for her to see. Her eyes landed on it and, he noted, understanding sprang to life in them. "I would enact vengeance for this massacre in your stead, as your forces are so justifiably too busy to be able to."

"Officially, Atlas is not in the business of revenge, Arbiter. Such is meant to be beneath us, you understand." The woman countered, grimacing and looking to her guards. Without a word, they stepped closer and turned, forming a wall as though to hide her from view. "Unofficially… Our prisons aren't exactly spacious, though, Arbiter."

"I understand." And he took little shame in the thrill of pleasure he felt for the words. Pulling his cloak on and standing taller, he bowed his head in respect, "By your word, then."

"I'll have my men questioned and directions gathered for you." She nodded, snapping her fingers twice. Wordlessly, the two men set off, going between each of the soldiers and questioning them quickly. "For now, you have blood on your hands. Get tended to and come find me after."

Looking to his hands he found his blood staining them indeed, blue tracks stained onto his flesh. Turning, he found a medic already waiting and held his hands out, "If you would please."

"S-Sure." The man nodded, fishing out a sterile looking rag and washing his hands off gently, looking for the cuts that had shed his blood. After a moment he asked, quietly, "Do you have Aura?"

"No."

"I see." Laying the stained rag on his shoulder, he leaned down to inspect his hands and hummed again. Seemingly satisfied he stepped back and tucked the rag into a box on the back of a thigh alongside other detritus. "Well, the wounds must have been shallow. They're mostly healed up, so you should be fine."

"I see." He'd bled a lot for such small cuts… But such was nothing worth concerning himself about, and so he instead rumbled, "Thank you."

"No, don't thank me for doin' my job. And besides." The medic laughed, shaking his helmed head and smiling warmly. A gesture he had long since given up on ever receiving from a Human. "Thank you is more like it, for saving those kids."

He could only blink, flick his mandibles in surprise, and nod. Hearing small footsteps, he turned and looked down on Cordovin, who smiled viciously, "One of our soldiers on the wall spotted a group getting into a vehicle and fleeing. When ordered to halt, they redoubled their efforts and were fired upon."

"To any success?"

"They escaped." She shook her head, "But blood was found at the scene. A lot of it, too, for only a moment to have bled it."

"So they have a wounded comrade to tend to, then." And thus they would have to stop. A thought which brought a feral grin to his mouth. Pointing to their parked shuttle he grunted, "I will borrow this to head to the scene, if you allow it."

"It is yours." She nodded, "I'll have it refuelled for the tracking and-"

"I will pursue them on foot." He cut her off, "Lest they heard the craft coming, or see it, shielded as they would be in the forest."

"Very well." She nodded, turning and gesturing to the craft. "If you will, I will order your transport there and you may be underway, Arbiter. I will also send word to not expect you to your companions."

And so it was he returned to the front gate of the settlement, dropped outside by the shuttle before it lifted up and angled away. A soldier was waiting for him and, after a moment, he recognized him. "You are the guard who I-"

"Yeah, I don't want to talk about it." The man dismissed, apparently more than put out by the joke which had been played on the both of them. Pointing at a spot up the road, he explained, "I saw the truck there, and that's where I shot at it, too. I've kept everyone off the road so you shouldn't have lost anything."

"I understand, and you have my gratitude." For a moment, he considered apologizing to the affronted guardsman. Instead, seeing and understanding how much the man wanted to simply get on with it, he simply nodded his thanks and was on his way.

As he'd been told, blood had been spilled in a burst along the side of the road. Beside it, tire tracks had ripped through the soft soil beside the paved concrete. These same tracks trailed away and onto the road, but the dirt itself wasn't important. That they didn't care enough about being followed to park on the concrete, and thus mitigate the risks of tracking dirt at all, spoke of over-confidence. And he could understand why, as stretched thin as Atlas was even without having to contain the fire, and deal with all that would come from it. They didn't expect they could be tracked, and had never learned that overconfidence was a slow and insidious killer.

'How kind of me to take time to teach them, then.' He mused amusedly as he walked back up the road, watching the flecks of dirt pass him by and looking for signs a vehicle had turned off the road. 'A Kaidon's lessons are, after all, something eagerly sought after and to be received with much gratitude.'

Assuming, of course, one could survive said Kaidon's tutelage. Though he had a suspicion that the Bane would have something to say to their chances…

Half an hour passed before he found what he suspected he was looking for. Just off the road, dirt had been churned up, more tire tracks like those he'd already passed leading to a line of bushes with a gap just his size in their leaves and limbs. Those which had filled the space prior now lay on the ground, broken and rolled over, but when he lifted the leaves they felt moist and alive. Dying to be sure, but still fighting to survive, like a warrior struck down in battle and bleeding his ichor into the soil.

"They ought to have found a quiet entry, or stopped to disguise theirs." Overconfidence, once more, would be their doom.

Rising, he followed a variance of tire tracks, broken limbs and plants, and damaged trees further into the forest. The trees themselves grew sparsely enough that the brush was common, but not chokingly so. Enough that he could have marched light armor through, if he meant to wage war. And so enough that their vehicle had little trouble traveling and could have done so in a way that made hunting them difficult to impossible. Instead, they had as good as lit the path for him to follow, inviting him to come and take what he wished.

An invitation he could not ignore for dozens of little, ash-covered and smoke-scented reasons.

Another hour of tracking passed in relative silence as the day drew long and dark began to creep across the world's surface. This creeping darkness brought him advantage, though, rather than stalling him. Distantly, the glint of angled light on glass drew his attention and, when he looked closer, he could see the faintest trail of fire smoke beside a little grey truck parked beside it. Slowly, he knelt and drew his cloak off, leaving it there where it would be safe and not hinder him.

His armor, baroque and meant to stand testament as it was, had been spared no expense in its craftsmanship. The best shields, the best metal for the armor, built precisely to his needs and demands by the best armor-makers he could find and ply. And, of course, he had made certain that he kept one of his favored abilities from the silver, sanctified armor he had donned while he was beholden to the Covenant. Shimmering for the briefest second, the plating of his armor charged, refracting and reflecting the light around him as his press of the button so commanded.

Invisible but for the inescapable shimmer of refracted light and with the Bane in his hand, he made his way towards the light. Well trained as he was, he made his way forward, avoid the open places his shimmer would best show and watching his footing for anything which might make noise to spoil his stalking. At such a distance, a Human would have been unable to be heard, but he knew that the Kig-Yar could hear at this range and so suspected the same of the Faunus until he was proven otherwise.

As he approached, he heard the group talking slowly filter into his hearing even as he got his first look at his quarry. And though he wished for nothing more but to close with them and cut them down, his own history stayed his hand, for reasons both merciful and analytical. A warrior who rushed into combat rushed into his grave, after all. And for all his own sins, he knew that he had to allow the briefest of moments to see if any ought be spared.

And so he moved in, getting his look and flitting from cover to cover to hide his shimmering form, to listen and examine.

"-the fires? Shit'll have 'em tied up for days just cleaning up their pissy little academy!" A great bear of a man was saying, stooped over a fire and with his back to the Arbiter's hidden, slow approach. "Damn good work on the explosives, Crim!"

"Y-Yeah." The antler bearing waif of a woman answered, curled up beside the fire and watching the wood burn from behind her mask's porcelain front. Hugging her legs tighter against her chest, she murmured, "Y-You didn't tell me that you were going to b-bomb a school though, Sun."

"I mean, s'it matter?" The great, horned man laughed. "Atlesians are Atlesians."

"Yeah, I know." The man shrugged, turning to look around the forest idly. His eyes scanned over the Arbiter and the warlord froze, wary of being seen, until his gaze had passed on. "New crew kinks, you know how it is."

That went some way to explaining their litany of mistakes, which had so easily allowed his hunt. All wore the same white outfit as well, porcelain masks fashioned like the Grimm he had fought on their faces or hanging off the big, horned one's shoulder. Each carried a blade hanging on their waist or, in the wounded and the waif's cases, laid on the ground beside them. They each also carried simplistic, bullpup rifles that he had faced the ilk of more than once in the Human-Covenant war.

"Don't push her, Sun." Their third murmured, tending to a wounded fourth laying on the ground with his long, lupine tail curled over his waist. Her feline ears flicked in a way that reminded him of Blake, though her hair was silver rather than black. "Crim is in the fight same as us, but she doesn't like it the way you do."

"They were kids…"

"Again, s'it matter?" The horned man laughed again, shaking his head and pointing a long, thick finger at the waif. "Lemme ask ya this, Crim. Who waits for a cold to mature 'fore you burn it out. Atlas is the cold, we're the fever, yeah?"

It was a force of will and nothing else which kept him from splitting the beast end to end then and there. Instead, stifling his snarl, he slid back and circled around. As he did, their conversation went on, and he listened on, eager for more information.

"They were kids, Sun." The waif- Crim, he corrected for her spine, actually argued. "If you had told me we were bombing kids, I-"

"Would have what?" The medic asked coldly, turning away from her patient to give the other woman of the group a long look. "Balk? Turn us in?"

"N-No!" And there was terror in her voice, now. Not fear of judgement, but terror. "I-I'm not a traitor! I-I'm not, I swear!"

"Hope not." Sun rumbled warningly, "Because you know what we do to deserters and traitors both, Crim."

"I-I do…"

"I fear that I do not." He rumbled, in position now with the medic and her patient between himself and the other two. He did not step into the clearing, even as Sun and the Medic took up their arms, looking for him, and he took no small satisfaction in asking. "Tell me, then, monsters, what happens to those who balk at barbarity?"

"Calling us monsters now, Atlas dog?" The medic challenged, anger overriding her frostiness at his words. Pulling the bolt of her rifle, an action mirrored by Sun and, more awkwardly as she staggered up, by Crim, she demanded, "Why don't you come out then, dog? I'm sure an Atlas hound would love nothing more than to take a bite out of us."

"As you wish." He growled in satisfaction, stepping forward and letting the Bane spring to life in his armored hand as he did. The scorching plasma swiftly outstripped his cloaking power supply and, sparking, his form was revealed. They flinched and he rolled his shoulders, turning to present his more armored side to their guns. "I am sorry to disappoint you, though, as I am not from Atlas."

"What the fuck are you…?"

"I would explain to ears more worthy." He answered, "Or to souls who had more time in this world."

Without another word the two snapped their rifles up, bursts slamming into his shield as he loped forward. Therounds were potent, but his shields held as he stooped, slamming his shoulder into the medic and hurling her bodil over his shoulder as he went. Leaving her for now he continued, stepping through the fire and knocking aside the spit-roasted rabbit as he went, eyes locked on Sun's heavy form as the man sprayed him in fire.

One hand closed around the rifle as he reached it, twisting it away and dropping it as the man reached for his sword. The curved, red blade never left his hip, though. The Bane, hissing and popping as flesh and cloth burned and melted, cut first through the arm that had cross his chest and then into his heart. Yanking it up, he cleaved the man from sternum to shoulder and slammed a fist into his face to hurl him back and let him die.

"Bastard!" The Medic screamed as her sword skittered off his armor uselessly. He pivoted on a heel, slamming his elbow into her face and shattering mask and teeth both. As she fell he loomed over her, fire behind him and Bane raised to strike down, and saw the terror in her eyes.

A familiar terror that stayed his hands for the briefest of moments, before his resolve returned. "For the little ones."

"Phuck-" The Bane, buried in her breast, cut her words off in a bloody gurgle. For a moment, she watched the blade, and then he yanked it up and to the side, taking her head from her shoulders.

A rifle cracked and his shoulder bucked, shields sparking but holding firm. Standing, he looked over his shoulder to the trembling waif, eyes narrow and angry. Trembling, she fired again and he turned, lumbering towards her while she peppered him. The Bane flicked and she cried out, her rifle cut in half and the top of her arm seared. Her cry ended as his hand closed around her throat, lifting the kicking creature into the air.

"Cease." He commanded as she kicked at him, turning and carrying her towards her crawling comrade, bandages around his leg explaining his lack of fight. "Your regret is your salvation. Try me, though, and I will crush you."

To make his point he dropped her and planted a foot on the back of the crawling man, burying the Bane in his back before he could do any more than grunt. Yanking it free he turned back to her, laid on the ground with her sword held above her like a shield, and chuckled. Another flick cut the weapon in two and he stepped forward, fingers wrapping around her throat and bending her back so her hair dipped towards the dirt. Stamping the campfire out, he sighed.

"You are going to lead my fellows to your comrades." He rumbled, ignoring her grunting and struggling wholly. "Once that is done, you will have whatever justice Atlas offers you."

Dragging the struggling woman and lighting their path by the Bane's fire, he turned for home only to freeze like a deer caught in oncoming headlights. There, stood in a gap between the trips with her rifle across her chest and shoulders heaving for breath, stood Ruby. Stunned and still trailing her rose petals, her eyes flicked across the clearing, from body to body, and then finally to him and the girl in his hand, struggling for her life.

"Ruby…" He blinked, taking a step towards her only to flinch when she did, Crescent Rose coming across her as though to guard her from him. Quietly, he asked, "Why are you here, Ruby?"

"I came to help you catch these guys." She answered meekly, looking over the bodies again. "I-I didn't think you'd… Do this to them."

"They killed children and save for this one," he hefted the girl to make his point, "celebrated the fact. Called them the virus. And these beasts the cure. I spared this one, Crim, for her regret and anger over it. Blood for innocent blood, shed with the same mercy offered to the little ones."

When she didn't speak, he lowered his head and resumed his steps, retracting his way to Argus and dragging his prisoner along. As he passed her, he paused and added, quietly, "Had they shown even an ounce of empathy, I would have spared them."

"...Okay." She nodded, sounding pained and taking a step forward into the camp. He heard her scythe shift its form but didn't turn, listening to her words instead. "Take her back, then, and send people to get the… The bodies. I'll watch them, so animals don't… Don't get atthem."

"As you say."

"And Arbiter?" She added in a weak little voice before he'd more than taken a step.

"Thank you for saving the kids." She murmured, voice cracking a little. "This is… Wrong, to me, a-and I won't argue with, but…" He heard her take a breath, "But it wasn't my decision, it was yours. So thanks, at least, for saving the kids at the school."

"And I will not apologize for their deaths. They earned them in barbarity and joy at it." He rumbled, back to her still while the woman in his grip still. He spared her a glance and found her chest heaving for breath, apparently worn out from her struggling. Quietly, he offered, "I am sorry that it pains you, though, my small friend."

"I just…" She sighed, "Go, Arbiter. I need to be alone."

He moved on as she had asked, silent and shame-ridden for the pain his vengeance, righteous or not, had caused his friend. Cordovin, he figured, would at least be more happy to hear of his success than Ruby had been. Though that was little comfort now, even if avenging the little ones was a greater one, as he left the young woman behind.

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To all those that thought the Arbiter was being scary last time… Here he is when he's angry. And before people get worried, no. Ruby isn't going to guilt the Arbiter into not killing anymore. That would be… Weird, to say the least. I won't get into but THIS sub-plot isn't taking that angle.

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Falloutman111 :

I needed certain things to be known about him, and for them to know each other, before I felt comfortable deviating. It's easier to adapt one thing at a time. The group to Thel first, then the continuity to the NEW one I am building.

Firestarter :

Jul's Covenant has many various names. Mine is one of dozens of various ones, and meant in context to be insulting. He addresses the ENTIRE COVENANT under Jul as a Covenant of their weakest, lowest units. The Storm.

Pheonix (Guest) :

RWBY has since made clear what Adam and his warped Fang were meant to be. However, I intend to take a different tact altogether, so hang in there.

GhostHaloRWBY :

I can make no promises, even to the notion of Adam actually showing up soonish.

Dr Killinger :

Cordovin is a nationalist in both versions. In this one, I simply added a threat to look to. Without that threat, this Cordovin would care only about 'Atlas Pride' this and that. Cordovin in both variants is a rag on nationalists. A habit the Arbiter has a clear opinion on.

Also yes.

Pissing off the Arbiter? Bad idea.

Blaiseingfire :

Well… One of those is gonna happen.