5. Of life and death
The dark sky was changing its color to purple and red, as the first light of the morning sun breached the horizon. The stars began to fade, shamed by the blinding rays of the sunrise. Yet nobody looked into the sky with hope. All eyes that reached up were searching for threats of the Grimm, completely ignoring the beauty of the morning light.
It was a long night, filled with dread and death. By the time the evacuation force reached the docks, where the bulk of the survivors bunkered up, half of the total number of soldiers were missing along with about quarter of the civilians that tried to escape. An overwhelming silence ruled over the marching people, broken by occasional orders and hydraulic joints of Gerhard's power armor. This did not look like a march of survivors - it was more akin to a funeral march, as heads of everybody but the military staff were hanging low - and even soldiers struggled to keep their heads high.
Pictures from the evacuation were still alive in the eyes and minds of everybody. People being snatched into the air, ambushes of the Grimm that even Gerhard's efforts did not manage to quell.
There were too many people to look after and way too many dark abominations besieging them at all sides to protect everybody.
And he was but a lone space marine.
The Chaplain did his best - he would not deny that. Every attempt of ambush was intercepted, every turn of events adjusted per his command. People listened to him - even if it was fear that ruled their actions, not hope. As long as he would be able to protect them, it mattered little.
Yet, he could not protect everybody. He could not be everywhere and mortals reached their limits long ago. Even when pushed way beyond their breaking point by the situation, Gerhard couldn't encourage them to fight on in the ways he was trained. Any word beyond basic push to survive died in his throat, stopped from being uttered. Why?
He did not know and it was concerning him greatly.
Deeds, not words, would guide them. Had to, for even the Chaplain - well-versed and understanding of matters of mind and soul as he was - had no idea how to even approach these people. They were weak of mind, unprotected by contempt for the inhuman and hostile alike. They rejected hatred and disgust - letting only fear to creep in their minds. Fear for their homes, for their lives.
Even conscripts of the Astra Militarum had more value in this cruel universe.
Their innocence was unsettling, revolting even. So it was not by word but example that Gerhard would teach them. Show them how to stand proud before any foe and vanquish them. No more would any city be beset, like Vale. No man, woman or child would die on the cold streets, unprotected by any form of military.
This was what his Duty demanded of him, it was what a White Knight aspired to. To build fortresses on the surface of planets and within hearts, where people would be safe in their zeal and hatred for any enemy of man. To guide and teach.
The red visors locked for a couple of seconds over every notable member of the evacuation effort.
The girl with a hammer fell unconscious after one of the beasts reached past her swing and dug its long fangs into her shoulder. She was held up by four civilians like a corpse of a hero on its last journey to their final resting place.
She was alive though and her mighty weapon - one that even the Astartes wouldn't shy away from, Gerhard admitted - was held by her friend. The first person he met on this wretched planet. Pyrrha, as he recalled.
He had heard about the blonde man with the sword and shield offering to amend the wound, but there was simply no time. The Space Marine himself expressed that by destroying a daemon that was just about to lunge at him.
Never doubt, never falter.
The General lost his artificial limb in a skirmish with an Ursa Major - it was not a loss the man even seemed to notice. His stern face was one of stone - so much akin to Gerhard's brothers. His limb of flesh was more than enough to send death to any Grimm that was foolish enough to target him. If there was one combatant such as this Ironwood, there would be more. And Gerhard would capitalize on it, whenever it would be possible.
"I see the docks! Guys, we made it!" A voice sounded from the front of the group. The small one with an oversized scythe.
It was relatively silent for the past half an hour. After crossing the bridge that connected the industrial district with the residential one, the amount of possible ambushes was significantly reduced due to the new topography of the area. And while never free of the black scourge, it was enough to cause damage - and once again it was the White Knight that was the wall that separated the defenseless from the horrors of this world.
White-clad soldiers were quick to learn that he meant them only to survive, so they obeyed his commands. It seemed to not go along with Ironwood's idea of this evacuation, but the man was smart enough to never give voice to his disapproval.
The people seemed to light up with newfound energy, fueled by hope. Their eyes shined for the first time in hours and their legs carried them forward.
Another small attack from the rear. This time, the Space Marine didn't even need to move. He looked as the soldiers around him took their stance with merciless efficiency and killed the black monstrosities before they could even lunge at them. One of the soldiers looked up at Gerhard afterward, his face was dirty and tired, but the Chaplain saw the will to live in his eyes. And something warmer, more mundane - gratitude.
The soldier was rewarded with a slight nod of the silver skull, its red eyes focused on the comparably tiny posture of the mortal soldier. And while the visage held nothing but grim reminders of death, it seemed to beam with pride and purpose.
Deeds, not words, would guide these people. At least this is what the Chaplain decided on.
The paths surrounding the docks were wide, unlike the streets of the city. Warehouses were large, made of concrete. The space Marine saw a number of metal containers stacked neatly in some places near warehouses, a giant yellow crane on massive wheels nearby them. It looked like it was abandoned suddenly, a container still hanging in the powerful grip of the mechanical claws.
Once again, the perimeter to the docks where everybody was evacuated to was secured by barricades. Gerhard noticed the concrete ground, some metal crates and walls and vehicles hosting some sort of bone projectiles in them, as if something rather big was shooting its fangs or talons onto the defenders. Clearly yet another ability of the daemons. He had much to learn.
And even more to prepare.
As the ragged survivors passed the guards around the barricades - some of them operating heavy guns on makeshift supports. The guns were very heavy, but also powerful, from what Gerhard could see. An excellent weapon for defense.
The guards looked at the Chaplain with silent awe. Since he accompanied their comrades and civilians, they didn't think of him as an enemy, but the sight was a stark one for certain.
Soon after they all passed the entry point, General Ironwood addressed his people, while some lightly-armored person ran up to the ground with assistance of medics and began checking up the injured and dividing the group among the lined-up warehouses where refugees were located.
Red visors of Gerhard's helmet noticed the big gates to these warehouses slightly open - just enough for a couple of persons to freely move in and out. There were no civilians outside the wide buildings and everybody outside was moving in a cluster of four to six people, aiming at the sky sometimes.
Yet surprisingly, there were no Grimm assaulting the docks. Their overall presence in the sky seemed to go down ever since the first rays of sunlight pierced the sky, Gerhard noticed. The empty paths of the docks seemed almost serene, bathed in the morning daylight.
"Where is Winchester?" Ironwood asked one of the militia personnel.
Contrary to his own troops, authorities of Vale sported more casual clothes with dark-green combat vests over their shirts and blouses. But it was not the looks that piqued Gerhard's interest. It was the manner in which the General got a response that intrigued him.
"Sir Winchester is inside the warehouse with the rest of the Council, save Headmaster Ozpin, that is." The man said quickly, standing in attention to the Atlassian officer. "He's not within your rescue party either, is he?"
Pyrrha turned her gaze away. The blonde boy also seemed to look uneasy with the question.
This time however the Chaplain decided not to pry. There were much more important matters that required his attention.
"No. Escort everybody to safety and try to amend their needs, it's been a long way here." Ironwood replied and looked up at Gerhard. His face was still unphased by anything, nearly inhuman, "What do you want to discuss with the Vale Commander?" He asked finally.
Gerhard weighed his next words carefully. He was far from feeling caught up in a lie that simply wasn't there at all. The silver skull moved, focusing on the survivors of the night, escorted away to a place, where they could rest. It's been a long night for these mortals. A night that could go much better for many more, yet their lives were forfeit by the man inside one of these warehouses.
Soldiers and militia alike were swarming the docks. How were these troops not deployed anywhere into the city?
"The streets were abandoned. I need to know why." The answer was calm, deep voice of the supersoldier betraying no emotion, "Besides, if I am to help with the defense, I better know who defends this city."
The General tried to pierce the glowing eyes of the skull mask even though he knew how futile the effort was. Gerhard wasn't sure if the mortal tried to pry, to force him into some kind of weird reaction, betraying lies. There was none - there would be none.
Then, he nodded without another word spoken and turned around. His steps were well-paced, but tired. Ironwood suffered through this night too, as he was just a mortal. A strong one, probably the best combatant this city had to offer now, but a mortal nonetheless.
The Chaplain followed the officer in silence, letting his armor do the talking for now. The humm of joints and power pack, the delicate chiming of the golden chains and adorning them carefully crafted decorations, medallions and beads. The heavy steps and barely noticeable flap of the fabric piece with prayers and litanies written with extreme care upon it.
All these sounds were defining the White Knights.
The soldiers all around the docks watched with careful curiosity as the giant walked behind the General, the skull visage gracing some of them with grim glances. All seemed to relent under the attention of the otherworldly creature that seemed to embody death itself.
The students dashed off to another warehouse. Clearly they did have a business there - didn't matter.
As the group of soldiers escorted Gerhard to the entrance of the middle warehouse, he noticed sounds inside slowly quiet down. An expected behavior, he judged. And when he followed the General inside the building, only echoes of the voices reminded anybody of any conversation that occurred within these walls.
Scores of soldiers and militia personnel were working around boxes of weapons and ammunition, distributing and preparing anything useful for any soldier lacking in equipment, or simply ready to restock while others were removing cargo from the warehouse - probably something useless to the new purpose of the facility. And when they passed the high entrance, all work seemed to cease.
Now, all eyes were locked on the Space Marine and it was now the sound of his power armor that filled the building, as he was led towards the opposite wall, where a table made of a few crates hosted a number of people.
Some looked outside of their expertise area, wearing suits of various colors that lined up their aged facial features. Men and women alike looked up at the Chaplain with a mix of confusion, fear and curiosity. Among them only three persons looked like some kind of military staff: two white-clad soldiers on each side of a man dressed in a green vest that was contrasting heavily against the rest of his suit attire.
There were four non-military persons, two Atlassian officers and the man in vest that seemed to lead the gathering.
General Ironwood stopped at the table, where a map of the city was lying down, various places marked by a red marker. Officers in white stood in attention and saluted the man, while the rest looked at him briefly, appraising his injuries.
Only the vested man looked unfazed.
"At ease." Ironwood addressed his soldiers and looked at the Council of Vale, "Councilors, this is Chaplain Gerhard. Chaplain, these people are the ruling body of this city, the Council of Vale."
The silver skull looked over every member of this council briefly. Men and women, some older, some younger but irrelevant. One seemed to be Faunus even, his yellow eyes and long canines reminded the Chaplain of the Space Wolves. Yet, they were no soldiers. None were even close to it, apart from the middle-aged man in vest. He was a big man, his copper, not too long hair were neatly brushed towards the back of his head.
He straightened himself, placing his hands behind his back and puffing his chest forward proudly. He cleared his throat intently, allowing his facial expressions to stiffen. Clearly, he wanted to appear as good to the otherworldly warrior as it was possible.
"Sir Torque Winchester," The man introduced himself, his hoarse voice paced slowly to keep the best possible level of control as he could muster, "I am the commander of the Valean forces and coordinator of all the available forces." He finished.
It was all Gerhard needed to hear. This was the man responsible for the deaths of so many mortals.
"Where have your forces been, Commander?" The deep voice of the White Knight was eerie in its sudden and forceful question.
The man blinked sharply and cleared his throat. He pointed towards the map, "I have accumulated as much of the forces of the city as I could to form a strong defensive line against this onslaught of the Grimm. All militia were ordered to reorganize here to form a cohesive plan against this unprecedented attack. It is a situation new to us not only as Vale, but Remnant as a whole." He explained, focusing on the map a little too much.
"You have ordered a full retreat of your forces." Gerhard summarized.
"Indeed," Winchester replied, nodding, yet his eyes were still looking at the map. "Time was and still is of the essence, you see. We cannot allow ourselves any de-"
"What about the people of this city?" Gerhard growled, stepping closer towards the table, a sense of unease seeping into the gathered people that shifted in their places, looking at each other and around.
Even Winchester looked up, confused and frightened by the sudden movement of the hulking knight.
"O-Of course I have evacuated the civilians as the efforts continued." He explained and paused, looking at Ironwood for a moment, "I have instructed all forces to save as many civilians as they could. The Schnee warehouse - which is the largest one around - is full of refugees."
"Bring an officer from the eastern sectors of the city." Gerhard commanded, looking at the map.
The docks were at the western side of Vale and the city stretched wider from west to east, rather than north to south. It was easier and faster to evacuate people from south or north, rather than east.
Descriptions of the districts didn't help Commander's case as well. Gerhard could read this map and while every district was marked as ordered a civilian evacuation, the closest district to the dock was the Noble District directly to the north of the coast. Gerhard fought within the imperial Hive Cities long enough to know how nobles operated. Their own safety, their own wealth was important at the top of the orbit-high spires of pride and indulgence. The lower the Hive went, the less of importance to them the cause was. If it wasn't for the PDF (Planetary Defence Force) and Enforcers of the Hives, lower echelons of any Hive City would be abandoned, left for whatever enemy of the Imperium to ravage.
"Excuse me?" Winchester replied, bewildered - or so he appeared.
The silver skull focused on the man.
"Are you unable to comprehend Low Gothic, Commander? Bring an officer from the eastern side of the city." Gerhard's voice was low, forceful.
"I am afraid that is not possible. Not for now, at least." He responded, looking at the gathering from below his forehead, "Not everybody returned and those who did were ordered to guard the eastern fringes of the perimeter. I can send for somebody, if you are willing to wait."
"No need Winchester," Ironwood interjected, winning himself full attention from the Councilor. "There are militants in here from my evacuation party." He explained and without any delay he turned around and ordered one of his men to bring any militant from the eastern side. Then he looked at Gerhard briefly.
It seemed that the Atlassian officer noticed the odd explanations of the Valean Commander and he did not like it.
Winchester's eyes darted between General Ironwood and other soldiers rapidly. He tried to appear calm and collected, but having a nine-foot tall super-soldier drilling holes within your very soul with the gaze of his menacing skull mask did not help.
The rest of the Council seemed to catch up on the peculiar nature of this meeting.
"What is going on, Torque?" An elderly woman asked with concern visible on her face.
"Nothing to be concerned about, ma'am. Just some misunderstanding we will soon clear up I believe." He replied with a warm, reassuring smile on his face.
A plastic smile of a cornered traitor, Gerhard mused.
After a couple of minutes, the white-clad soldier returned, escorting a ragged and tired militant of Vale. He stopped by the table and looked at Gerhard with a cautious attention before he corrected himself and saluted to the man on the other side of the table.
"At ease. Your na-" Winchester began, but the Chaplain cut him off quickly.
"I shall question him." Gerhard decided, allowing no opposition in the matter.
The militant man jumped in shock, not expecting such a turn of events. He looked up at Gerhard's skull visage and even though he was a bit accustomed to it over the course of the last night, it was still enough to put him on edge.
Now the entire warehouse was watching how the events at the table unfolded.
"Answer my questions and answer them true, for you answer to His Angel. The Emperor's eyes are upon you and to fail His sight is to doom oneself for all eternity." The Space Marine said, turning his whole body towards the mortal. It was not difficult for him to appear imposing. Nor was it difficult to appear frightening - after all, Gerhard was a Chaplain of the Adeptus Astartes, he shone with authority as the numerous skulls adorning his armor reminded of his grim office.
The man nodded rapidly in response - more of an unwarranted reaction, than his intention.
"Where are you stationed?" Gerhard asked, unmoving.
"5th Station in the Residential District." The reply came quickly and clearly.
"This is ridiculous…" Winchester whined, "You'll ask him what was he doing? Wasn't he with you, making sure an evacuation from the city plaza is possible?" A confident question, Gerhard admitted. Yet, it was coated by fear.
"How far to the east is it located?" The next question landed, echoing through the warehouse. The Space Marine ignored the Commander for now.
"Crossroad of the Runner's and Beacon's," He said, but seeing the slight, curious tilt of the skull visage, the militant continued. "About three kliks from the Beacon Academy, sir."
The man was visibly scared. Cold sweat ran down his dirtied neck and his eyes nervously darted between Gerhard and General Ironwood, which listened closely to the interrogation. He was a soldier though and true to that he stood still, answering the questions to the best of his ability.
Gerhard nodded simply in acknowledgement.
"What was the very first order you have heard, soldier?" Another question was asked calmly.
"He's no officer! He probably heard to go along, when this all broke loose! Right?" Winchester interjected again. His question was directed at the militant a little too forcefully.
The man in question looked at the Commander and then his gaze quickly shifted onto Gerhard.
The Chaplain stood motionless. He could deal with this Winchester in various ways, proving his guilt in a manner of but a simple monologue from his own side, showing all that were present wrongdoings of that man. And that was just an example.
Such official interrogations were delicate matters though and as a Chaplain, Gerhard understood this more than the others. Trying to deal with the matter at hand quickly more often than not has proven to be counterproductive, destructive even. And this had to be avoided, for the Space Marine did not want to martyr that incompetent coward. He wanted to doom him before the eyes of all those who trusted him.
Winchester was a dead man walking, he just didn't know it yet.
The massive bulk of the super-soldier stood motionless still, a couple of moments too long for anybody to feel comfortable - as intended. It was not a matter of performance, deceit. It was a matter of a silver lining that the Chaplain could use from such unease. He learned to use fear as a weapon against those susceptible to this emotion. Imperial nobles, military officers and many others felt that anxiety whenever a being of action and deed dwarfed their own beings.
"Interrupt this interrogation… one more Throne-damned time," His voice finally left his lips, barely audible even through his vox speakers. The skull helmet didn't move, still focused on the militant before him. And it was only then that Gerhard turned his head slightly towards Winchester, "And I will remove that cursed jaw from your skull, peasant."
Silence overtook the hall. Soldiers and militants watching the scene didn't quite catch what the Space Marine was saying, but seeing the sudden stiffness of Sir Winchester and the accompanying wave of motions from people closer to the gathering was enough to know that Gerhard threatened the Commander.
As it was intended to be seen and understood. The Council of Vale tried to question their colleague about this situation, but Torque Winchester dismissed their questions as baseless gibberish.
And it was only after yet another, much shorter moment of silence that Gerhard spoke again.
"Now, speak. Answer my question." He said, refocusing on the militant.
"I, uh…" The man stumbled on his words, the threat clearly lingering in his thoughts - even though it was not aimed at him, "The first order I remember receiving was to head to the west, here." He said clearly. Then he looked briefly at his Commander, whose face was a mix of rage and struggle.
Gerhard barred his sight with his own posture.
"Is there any officer from our evacuation group that can confirm your words?"
"No. At least not from my own unit. Captain Cat Sicaro died during the evacuation. He threw himself onto a Beowulf, when it tried to assault a group of civilians." The militant replied quickly, the words marked with a hint of grief. Grief for which nobody had time for.
Within Gerhard's mind memories of the night flashed in an instant, picking on the words of the mortal. Indeed, a man like that was among the defenders, his courage nothing short of heroism of the finest guardsmen.
This man - a cat Faunus - blasted the infernal monster's head off with his pistol right before dying himself.
These were people that any world needed. The Imperium at large needed. And they always died first, their blood nourishing the soil of countless worlds so that the cowards could feast.
And it was never enough.
Suddenly, the black mass of his armor moved. Way quicker than anybody would suspect such a being to move, those who've seen the Chaplain in action were still barely able to acknowledge such a feat of speed from such a giant and heavy being.
He moved through the table like a bulldozer and grabbed Torque Winchester by his throat, lifting him from the ground.
Those who were closer raised their weapons at the Space Marine. Was it out of their duty to protect the Commander or an involuntary defensive reaction - none dared to ever tell. The other members of the Vale Council screamed and yelped in panic, jumping back, falling onto the ground and hiding behind their militia. Again, dead silence reigned over the warehouse, broken only by the noise of Winchester's struggle.
"Hel…p… me…!" He hissed as his throat barely had any room to breathe, let alone talk.
Yet, nobody moved. Even Ironwood stood still, albeit with his pistol drawn against Gerhard. His stern face as usual did not betray his emotions at all.
It was just as Gerhard hoped it would be. Shock and disbelief gave way to indecisiveness. A flaw that the Astartes were cleansed of.
And as the panicked eyes of the commander focused on the skull visage of the Chaplain, nothing but fear could be seen in that face. Primal and terrible panic that pushed Torque Winchester to punch away at the armored forearm of his assailant - with no effect whatsoever.
"Moo…n-sterrrr…!" He hissed.
"You ordered your men to evacuate, sparing no time or thought for the defenseless. By your order countless civilians lay dead on the streets of your city, mangled and devoured. By your cowardice you holed up within this building, hoping for the others to do your job for you." Gerhard spoke loudly, nearly growling. His voice was accusing, unflinching and full of intent.
Voices rose among many people inside the warehouse. The truth was that nobody has seen the eastern side of the city.
"Your apathy and empty orders were meant to keep the people of this city in the dark. To save yourself." He continued.
These words were not too long ago but inner thoughts of Gerhard, who met way too many people like Winchester. It was simply a matter of experience to recognize his ilk at the first sight. The Chaplain could drag this interrogation for longer, to showcase everything. There was no time for it though, nor did Gerhard have any patience for scum.
"You have betrayed the people you swore to protect. You dishonored the badge of your office and consigned countless lives to death by the sin of cowardice." The Space Marine continued, his voice growing with intensity and grim rage with every uttered word, "I hereby brand you a traitor and heretic, maggot. For your sins there is but one punishment." Gerhard finished with a low tone and allowed his hand to speak for him.
"Do somet...aankh- '' Winchester's voice died, replaced by a sound of snapping bones and ripped sinew. Gerhard's hand crushed and dislocated the man's throat and spine and as the mortal's open, frightened eyes were soaking red with his own blood, his limbs lost all their strength and control. Torque Winchester was dead, his body hanging within the grip of the Space Marine.
The dead body was quickly discarded, thrown away like a piece of garbage. It landed on the ground on the path towards the only way in and out of the massive building. And there stood a lone young Huntress-in-training.
Once again it was Pyrrha Nikos that witnessed the brutality and remorseless Duty of the Space Marine.
His glowing, hostile visors met her emerald eyes. Gerhard saw a mix of defeat and disbelief on her face. It was a face of a student that just saw their question being answered for them - and the answer was nowhere near what they expected or hoped for. She was the first person among many that night to be saved by his brutality and efficiency. And now the young girl saw her savior kill a man that was an ally a moment ago.
What did her emerald eyes see when they looked at him?
It didn't matter.
The Chaplain turned his back to Pyrrha, addressing General Ironwood and what remained of the Council of Vale.
"I fought to protect your people among your soldiers. I saw great deeds, feats of Valor and Courage - and I will not stand for cowardice and incompetence that may endanger the lives of people of this city." His words were once again calm, yet loud enough to be heard, echoing within the walls of the warehouse, "Will you think me a threat, because I killed a murderer of your own subjects? Or will you see me as an ally that man could never be?"
The Chaplain asked and silence met his question. The councilors looked among each other with visible unease, fear creeping in their eyes and movements. Only the General stood motionless, focused on Gerhard. He tried to understand him, or already did, yet wanted to save his voice for later. Who knew what such an enigmatic person could think at any given moment?
Gerhard turned around, pulling out his Crozius and raising it high for everybody to see. To behold the golden cross and grim skull of the Chaplain's office.
"Who among you will stand with me to fight and defend those who live? Who shall follow to avenge those who died tonight by the hands of a traitor?!" He roared.
Gerhard's words echoed once again, engulfed by the silence of all gathered inside. Doubt could be seen among the faces of militants and soldiers. Would they listen? Would these mortals see past their own culture and laws to see what the White Knight wanted to give them? Or would they see nothing more but an otherworldly monster trying to rule them by its own principles?
The Chaplain would never admit it, but he too felt a level of unease. Seldom did the Space Marines find themselves in any similar situation as Gerhard currently was in. He'd wager that this was the very first case that would be recorded by the Imperial historians.
If this tale would reach them.
Suddenly a lone man bearing the Vale militia vest stepped forward, his head hung low.
"My sister… She lives on the eastern side of the city." He started, raising his head. Dark eyes of the man were red and wet. He fought with all his might to not let his emotions take hold of him, "If she… If Winchester left her…" He seethed, looking at the broken corpse of his dead commander.
"Many were saved by us tonight. Your sister might be among the survivors." Ironwood said, stepping forward. "We will make a list of survivors and distribute it among you, Valeans. But we need you to focus right now. The city is still under attack by the Grimm and this position will be compromised if we sit here any longer. Countless will die."
A moment of silence reigned once again, broken by muffled discussion among the people. Ironwood's words seemed to work, as doubt was slowly being replaced by agreement, conviction.
Yet, Pyrrha was nowhere to be seen.
It didn't matter, he repeated to himself.
"I ask once again, soldiers of Vale and Atlas! Will you follow me and burn your way through these daemons to save this city? Let your pain be your weapons! Let Contempt against the cursed and traitors be your armor! Rise, Defenders of Vale! Let the abominations face you! Let them look into your eyes and learn to FEAR YOU!" The Space Marine called, his rallying cry this time working perfectly well.
Waves of soldiers and militants stepped forward, raising their weapons and clenching their fists. They would follow. They would fight.
"VICTORY!" Gerhard roared and his voice was answered with a cry of hundreds of men. Vale would fight back.
The Space Marine turned around towards the Council, looking down on them. His silver skull showed no pity for the weak politicians who still bore doubts towards him.
"I care not whether you fear me or not. I care about the survival of this city, so show me who is commanding your forces now."
Nausea built its way to Pyrrha's stomach. It was one thing to watch the Grimm die - soulless and mindless, whose corpses evaporated and completely another to see life being snuffed away like a candle from a human being.
The voice, the sound… The silence. The manner Torque Winchester was killed was churning her guts, his empty, terrified face still looking straight at her, when his corpse hit the ground. It was all she could see before her eyes. His snapping neck, the only sound filling her mind.
The next thing she remembered was standing around the docks, a cold and salty breeze from the sea caressed her cheeks. The soldiers and militants were going about their businesses patrolling, setting defensive positions on the roofs and more open spaces.
She could still hear the faint shouts coming out from the warehouse. A unison of voices ready to fight a bloody war, it was the first sound of this new day. Other people looked in that direction too and soon some soldiers ran outside of that building, approaching various groups of the defenders - probably relaying the situation, sending orders.
The reactions were all the same: shock, disbelief, sometimes fear. But none dared to question.
As the wind blew stronger, Pyrrha brushed her crimson hair away from face. She tilted her head to aid her motion, the emerald eyes spotted a pair of Vale militants walking in a somber manner towards the warehouse that served as a medical wing. There was no rush of orders, no burning strength in their motion, contrary to their peers.
It was a grim resolve so typical for those who bore a dark message.
At once Pyrrha's eyes opened wide, realization pushing her feet forward towards the same warehouse.
Cardin Winchester, son of the slain Councilor, was there. With a broken arm he was resting there, injured by events of the last night. Now, he was also an orphan.
She slipped through the entrance to the newly formed field hospital quickly and looked around. Crates and warehouse equipment were still being placed on the sides or removed from the building altogether to accommodate the ever increasing number of injured. All entrances to the building were open to make the access easier and a handful of militia personnel were assigned to keep order around the people who come in and out.
Pyrrha entered without issues - while unharmed, she was one of the Huntresses and her friends needed medical help. To let her visit them was only natural, assuming the medics wouldn't tell her off.
Scores of medics of various specializations were hard at work addressing equally various types of injuries - burns, damaged bones, open wounds. The last ones often led to surgeries performed there and then, with no isolation from the rest of the laments and pleas, moans of pain and screams of terror. No wonder Pyrrha didn't stay here long the first time she escorted everybody in.
Surprisingly, it did take the girl a moment to spot the pair of officers. Their uniforms did not blend with anything to be honest, but there were simply too many people and only after several seconds Pyrrha would lock her eyes with a scene of Cardin turning his attention towards them.
She couldn't hear them, it was too far away and the overall noise of the building isolated them well enough. But she did see them.
She saw the militants looking at him in a somber manner, talking to him - quietly, perhaps. And as they spoke, Pyrrha saw the shock and disbelief erupting on her classmate's face. This quickly turned into panic, visible and audible pain. She saw the officers taking a hold of him, trying to keep him in place, as the young man tried to dash away into the exit. He struggled much, tears dripping from his cheeks onto anything around as he thrashed and flailed in spot. His teammates went to hold onto him too, since the militants struggled way too much.
His cries grabbed the attention of people around, especially after he had to be pinned down to the ground - despite his broken arm. The sorrow was so overwhelming and painful. Cardin was a bully, but to look at him like that - it tore Pyrrha's heart. This boy lost a member of his family - a father. Killed mercilessly and with no remorse from Gerhard's side. It reminded her of her own situation last night. It reminded her of the amber gaze of Cinder, her pitiless smile. That sharp pain of an arrow in her foot and another one that would probably end her own life, just like Torque's. Would she look like that man after death?
And then it was Jaune, not Cardin on the ground. Screaming and crying her own name. The Champion blinked and shook her head and looked again. It was Cardin.
…ha…
She turned her gaze to a woman being embraced by somebody. She was crying so much. And she looked just like her mother.
Py…a…
Suddenly her thoughts were far, far away from the field hospital. No longer did Pyrrha see or hear the tragedies of the people of Vale. She saw her friends and family. Sulking, crying, coping, denying - everything at once. All this because Pyrrha Nikos died that night.
Her breath was quick and shallow. Why? Why couldn't she control it, like she always had?
Pyrrha…
To be a Huntress was to deal with death every day. She knew it so well and was ready to act upon it - all to save the people she loved. The Mistralian knew her decision to fight there was correct. That her Destiny was to be a Huntress, to live as one and to die as one. And yet she doubted it all now. Why? It was never about her own well-being after all!
Pyrrha!
At once Pyrrha felt her skin ablaze. Everything was burning around her. Her sight was burning. Her thoughts were burning, her mind was burning! And nobody cried. Nobody laughed or could care. There was nothing and Pyrrha felt it. All because of Cinder, who killed her. She knew she was but one of many corpses that woman left behind! Why did she allow it? Why did she die there?!
"PYRRHA!" called out the high pitched voice of Ruby. It was the voice of a scared person.
She gasped and automatically focused her emerald eyes on her younger friend. Only then she noticed Ruby held her arms tightly, keeping the red-haired girl in place. Pyrrha looked around and saw the same scene or the medical warehouse as before.
Though, she did not remember the cold stone wall behind her back.
"Pyrrha, talk to me! What's wrong?" Ruby asked desperately. Her silver eyes were locked on Pyrrha's own, wet and full of worry.
"I… I'm sorry…" The girl replied, burying her face in her hands. She was still confused, but also embarrassed and scared. Scared of her own mind. She did not cry and that was certain, but she couldn't help but feel hopeless and helpless. Saved by sheer luck or a twist of fate pulled by some divine hand.
And then she felt the smaller girl embrace her. Gently and slowly Pyrrha felt Ruby's warmth, her shaking arms tightening ever so slightly around her torso, her cheek pressed against the skin just below her collar.
"It's okay," Ruby whispered, "It's okay. It was a hell of a night and we all need some rest. We all made it out alive and saved so many people." She said and broke the embrace, focusing on Pyrrha again. She was smiling faintly, but honestly.
It was then that Pyrrha looked away. They did get out alive, sure. Yet, what if she didn't go fight Cinder? What if she focused on saving people, not chasing her Destiny? They could have saved so many more, now that she thought about it.
And then the Invincible Girl quickly looked back at Ruby, her eyes darting around the area.
Cardin was no longer there.
"Where is Cardin?" Pyrrha asked, her eyes scanning the area.
"His team took him somewhere with some officers. I don't know why, but it didn't look good…" The young team leader sounded concerned, as she looked at that place and then looked back at Pyrrha. "Any idea what happened?"
"No," She replied firmly, the lie burning her heart. It would do no good for anybody if the truth was revealed just now, "How are the others?"
Ruby's face stiffened even more and then looked over her shoulder in the general direction of the injured students. They all have been treated as a priority, since their well-being ensured more able bodies to fight. And while this did not really sit well with any of them, it was undeniable that such a course of action would benefit everybody the most.
Besides, Jaune was hard at work with his Semblance. Slowly, his control over the newfound power grew and he began helping his classmates with their recovery.
"They're fine. Roughed up, but fine." Ruby's voice was far from convincing, Pyrrha mused.
"What about Yang and Blake?" The former was Ruby's half-sister, Yang Xiao Long. The heavy hitter of team RWBY - a truly fiery girl. The other one was Blake Belladonna, the last member of the same team. A quiet and reclusive cat Faunus.
Pyrrha did not know anything about the pair ever since this whole chaos broke out. So when she saw Ruby suddenly lose any remaining flickers of energy and hope, she too felt dark pressure on the back of her mind. It wouldn't be too crazy to simply assume they died that night.
"They… They're alive. Here…" Ruby started, looking away. Her somber tone did not match her words, so something was definitely not right.
Instead of prying further, this time it was Pyrrha that embraced her friend. One of the first true friends she ever had apart from her own team. Both teams RWBY and JNPR were almost siblings. Pyrrha loved spending time together, having some normal life. These people were a source of warmth outside her mother's embrace that the girl sought so much. That she decided to go to a school across the world to be free of her fame - to any degree.
And she would not let it be destroyed, no matter what. They were like her second family. And this warmth was worth protecting by any means! If she had to die-
Pyrrha's body twitched. A cold shiver ran down her spine, alerting her muscles of the sheer gravity of that one word.
Death. Huntsmen and Huntresses were taught how to deal with such stuff. Not only the Grimm were a threat to the world, but bad people too. People like Cinder, who would be killed by Pyrrha then and there if luck allowed it. Would she act differently? Would she think differently? What would separate her from Cinder at that moment? Both of them were trying to kill one another and she knew that.
Would she look like Gerhard, taking somebody's life away without any doubt?
He was a monster. A monster to whom life had little to no value. A killer, a murder machine. That silver skull reminded all of death. His every word and every move was programmed to wage war and kill. He…
He shielded her from the scorching flames of the Fall Maiden.
He carried her in his arms. Arms of a killer.
He escorted civilians to safety time and time again.
He fought to save lives.
And he killed a man in cold blood. He tried to kill people numerous times last night. Where was the line? How does one decide about life and death? What did he think of death?
"We should get some rest." Ruby's voice pulled the red-haired girl from her thoughts once again.
The younger Huntress was still locked in a warm embrace not really eager to break this moment. She was correct though - they all have been tired and who knew what rest they would be granted before the next time they were to fight?
"Yes, you are right. We should meet with the others and organize ourselves some sleep." Pyrrha tried to sound reassuring and firm.
And so they went to meet their injured friends. All were being treated to their wounds with Nora and Ren being the ones to lie on the blankets set on the cold floor. Nora was still unconscious, but the medics were already treating her bite wound and leg injury.
Ren was lying on his stomach as another nurse was disinfecting his back. She was careful with the antiseptic applied to his wound but it was obvious it did hurt. Her friend hissed away the pain every now and then, his pink eyes focused on Nora this whole time.
"Hey, guys." Jaune greeted them with a faint smile, just as he pulled his hand away from Weiss' cheek again. Pyrrha glimpsed his white Aura retreating back into his body as he did so. "I'm not sure what's wrong, Weiss," he shook his head in defeat again, "You still can't see?"
This brought the attention of both Pyrrha and Ruby. Their eyes focused on the Atlassian girl. From where they stood, they saw the left side of her face, her nearly perfect face unmoving, a picture of perfect beauty and composure. Too perfect, the Champion noticed.
And only after a few seconds of total silence did Weiss speak up.
"No. No, I can't. But thank you, Jaune. I know you did what you could." She said almost mechanically. The girl kept her hands together on her laps, the fingers moving slightly to squeeze one another together every now and then.
She was nervous. So very nervous that she could barely contain it even with years of her education. Angry, sad, maybe even panicking.
And when she turned to face them, Pyrrha saw what was so well hidden it could barely be seen.
Weiss' face was a mask of porcelain, her pale skin cleaned of any grime and dust and her wound all but memory thanks to Jaune's Semblance. She looked like she was about to give a photo session, her white hair brushed to the left side, covering her cheek in what could be called an innovative take on noble grace. She had no brush and her white locks were a mess, compared to her usual hairstyle - and yet, it looked like the work of a master stylist.
And behind this picture-perfect look Pyrrha noticed sadness and terror. Eyes were a window to one's soul and even Weiss could not hide it that well. From what Pyrrha heard, her friend just lost sight in her right eye. And while it was not visible, she dared not to question.
And before anybody could speak up, the Heiress stood up and with a quick motion of her head and hands, she swept her snow-white hair to the right side to mirror the haircut she bore just now. This time however, some white locks obscured her eye. Subtly, yet visibly if one had a comparison from a moment before. She wanted to hide her eye, or she simply didn't know it was obscured.
"We should go get some rest," Weiss stated, cutting right to the chase, "I doubt we will be able to help anybody here. And we won't be able to help anybody if we do not rest." She finished and simply passed between Pyrrha and Ruby, sparing them not even a glance. Her head was locked into the distance ahead of her, chin high.
It was sad to see her like this. Hiding, covering her pain and victim of this fight, just like Nora and Ren. And yet, she could keep her composure, unlike Pyrrha.
They both were afraid on their own, their fears scratching against their psyche in their own, unique way. Yet Weiss did not allow it to rule over her, contrary to Pyrrha who needed Ruby to snap her out of it.
And it wasn't just Weiss. Ruby, Nora, Ren… Even Blake and Yang from what she could understand from Ruby's response had to deal with their own issues - and they did the best they could.
Jaune.
Pyrrha looked back at her leader and partner. He still sat on a crate looking at them all with mild concern. Then he blinked and looked at Pyrrha. His face curled into a warm smile as he raised his hand at her.
"Don't worry about me. I'll stick around and uh, try to help, you know? I'll join you all a bit later." He said.
He suffered mostly because of her own actions, her own decisions. She was here, so at least he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore, right?
The girl nodded back at him with a warm smile.
"Don't overdo it, Jaune. Remember that you still need rest." She told him, like a worried parent, pointing her finger at him in an attempt to lighten the mood, even if just a little. It seemed to work, as the blonde chuckled at that, raising his hands up in a sign of submission.
"Hah, don't worry, Pyrrha. Won't take long, I promise." The boy nodded.
Pyrrha nodded back and turned to leave together with Weiss and Ruby. As she made her way to the exit, she couldn't help but feel that Jaune's body language, the look on his face… Nothing added up.
This night scarred them all in some way…
Hello again, guys!
I am very sorry this took so long - I won't like that once a month might be my new pace, since... well. Life! Nothing bad, but I want to balance things out and STILL deliver the best story possible.
First, announcement: WE HAVE FINISHED THE INTRODUCTION! YAY!
What comes next? Pacing of the story will change slightly! Instead of one night going for five chapters, I'll be working more akin to what you guys are used to - one day a chapter, maybe two depending on how important it is. Hope you stick around and keep giving me advices and words of encouragement as well as honest critique! I want you all to enjoy this story!
Next, a technical: I am trying more space between dialogue lines for more visibility, cleaniness. Do you like that? Or you'd prefer me keeping the text a bit more compressed? I myself am leaning towards the latter, but if spaces make it easier for you, who am I to force it?
Finally: THANK YOU.
For being here, for reading, enjoying and waiting! I've seen a couple of messages asking for more, to post already! It really did warm my heart! I always read ALL your messages and although I do not reply to all, I always keep them in mind!
Thank you again and until next time!