Well, winter is officially here, which means motivation for me is gonna be a little bit low. But other than that, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter 53: In The Name Of Liberty

Two months had passed since my arrest. Once I was remanded in custody, the trial began, and a verdict was reached in record time. I had no attorney: nobody wanted to defend a man who was guilty as sin, and my only defence was to claim that I had been drugged and forced to be a sleeper agent, which, as I had predicted, was discarded as an obvious lie. All the evidence pointed to me; witness testimonies, security camera footage, forensic evidence... there was no doubting my involvement. Of course, most of it couldn't be recovered safely, on account of the Grimm swarming around the ruins of Beacon, their numbers continuing to grow by the day, but the decision was made, and my fate was decided.

Guilty as charged.

Execution was to be carried out... immediately.

But to my surprise, General Ironwood intervened, making a claim that somebody, be it subordinates or superiors, could try to free me. Set a trap, with me as the bait. It was a ridiculous proposal, but even so, it managed to convinced the council to hold off on my execution for a period of time. Two months, to be precise. But that brief respite the General had bought me was to expire today. If a miracle didn't present itself by tonight, then I was doomed.

But to be honest, ever since Kimba had told me the truth about how I arrived on Remnant, I no longer believed in miracles. And because of that, I had lost hope once I was arrested. And without hope... I had given up ages ago.

The gate slammed open, rousing my slumber. I looked up groggily, but only had a moment to remember where I was, before a guard gripped my nape, and threw me to the concrete floor. I got to my hands and knees, and a boot flew into my gut, knocking the wind out of me with a grunt, and forcing me to lie on my side.

"Y'know, for the Butcher of Beacon, you sure are weak." The guard sneered. I looked up from the ground, and glared at him.

"Screw you." I hoarsely shot back. But instead of attacking me again, the guard instead chose to laugh cruelly.

"I'd take that offer, but I'd die laughing, and you'd die trying. And speaking of dying…" The guard pulled out a pair of shackles, linked together with glowing metal pipes, and slammed them onto my wrists. Aura-suppressing restraints.

"Your time's up. Today's the day we rid Remnant of your scourge. And not a moment too soon. Once you're gone, we'll finally have peace again."

I didn't respond. There wasn't a point in doing so. The bindings on my wrists kept me from fighting back, and any retort would be met with physical violence. And this idiot seemed to have drawn his own conclusions about what my death would bring.

"Well? Say something!" The guard yelled. I still didn't reply, unable to rouse the energy. What was the point? Nobody could save me, nobody would even bother to try.

"You've killed dozens of people! You should be begging for mercy! Why aren't you fighting b-ugk!"

The guard never finished, as something slammed into the back of his head, knocking him out cold. As he toppled to the ground, his collapse revealed his attacker to me. A dark-skinned old woman, dressed in a blue robe, lined with white trimmings. She held an engraved stick by the base, one topped with a decorative skull, but was quickly pulling it back. On her wrinkled face was a pair of high-tech goggles, which glowed a bright azure blue, contrasting with her darkened colours.

"Such childish bickering. Sound and fury, signifying nothing. Now then... boy. Get up." She stated. She hobbled over to me, fishing out a key from the unconscious man's belt as she passed him. Inserting the key into the central mechanism of my bindings, the metal became slack on my wrists, and fell off with a clatter.

"Who are you?" I asked, as I sat up, immediately beginning to rub my wrists. The woman snuck a glance over her shoulder, before turning back to me.

"A pertinent question, though one that cannot be answered in so short a time. Help me with this man." The woman ordered. Despite my confusion, I obeyed, getting to my feet, hauling the guard over my shoulders as I did so, and slipping him in the bed. But as I was about to pull the covers up, the woman placed a hand on my arm.

"You'll need his clothes. A prisoner walking out of their cell would be… strange." The woman proffered. Getting the point, I began to slip the guard's armour off, placing it on my body as I did so. Finally, after a few tense minutes, my body was cocooned in metal plating, sans my face. Looking to the helmet on the guard, I slipped it off, and looked at it. The helmet was simply a faceplate, with no visible way of seeing through the metal. Despite my apprehensions, I placed the helmet over my head, covering my vision in darkness, but only for a moment.

Before my eyes, a projection of the helmet's field of vision flashed into view. In that view, a biometric profile materialized, with my heart rate, blood pressure, and Aura levels rendered in gauges underneath a three-dimensional wireframe, which I presumed would alert me to any injuries. As the profile shrank and moved to the lower left corner of my view, I noticed the short woman turning to the door.

"Come on. If the guard wakes up, we're in trouble." She stated, hobbling briskly out the door into the hallway. Grabbing the guards's discarded rifle and sliding it onto my back, I strode out, desperately resisting the urge to collapse in a nervous wreck.

"We're almost out. Keep your stride."

It had only been five minutes since I had left my cell, but it may as well have been five years. Back home, I'd played these kind of scenarios on my computer, sneaking through hallways occupied by enemy gunmen who wouldn't hesitate to shoot on sight, but doing it for real filled me with a sense of dread that a video game couldn't even hope to match.

"Hold up."

The woman held up a closed fist, ordering me to stop. I did so, and began to listen. Nothing seemed apparent, until finally, I heard thumping boots.

A guard were coming this way.

"Damn!" The woman hissed. She turned to me, and took my hand. Her expression softened, and she hunched over slightly. I was about to ask what she was doing, but I never got the chance. A guard tromped around the corner, catching sight of me and the old lady.

"Corporal! Why aren't you at your post?" The soldier barked. My brain went into overdrive, trying to think of a cover story.

"Oh, this kind young man agreed to escort me to the entrance. I simply came to see my son, and I heard that visiting hours were about to close." The woman rasped, putting on a grandmotherly voice. A moment passed, and I understood what the woman was doing.

"My apologies, sir. I meant to radio this in, but one of the inmates in the yard jumped me and broke my comm unit. Once I've escorted her out, I'll see to getting it fixed ASAP." I declared. The guard scrutinized me closely, before nodding.

"Understood. Report back to your post once your comm unit has been repaired."

"Roger that." I saluted the officer, who returned the gesture, before resuming his march down the hallway. The old woman swiftly let go of my hand, and straightened her posture.

"Terrible acting. You're lucky that guard was an idiot. Now let's keep going." She stated, resuming her stride down a hallway. Relieved that my cover wasn't blown, I ran to catch up with her. As I matched my stride with hers, I looked down at her.

"Where are you taking me?" I hissed. The woman didn't look at me, only stopping at some stairs leading down to the prison's basement, which doubled as the shower block for low security inmates.

"Listen carefully. There's a sewer vent down there in the showers. Go down the ladder, and follow the arrows painted on the tunnel walls. Once you find another ladder marked with a diamond, climb up it, and look for a crate marked with your initials. It'll be open, so that you can climb in and hide." The woman spoke quickly and quietly, enough so that I could barely hear. It was a lot of information to take in all at once.

"Wait, you haven't told me-" I began to protest, but as I looked to the mysterious woman, she had vanished from sight. The hallway only had two points of entry; the way we had come, and the stairwell. Neither had any sign of her presence. And she obviously wasn't a hallucination: she had knocked that guard unconscious, not me.

Who was she?

*ALERT. ALERT. PRISONER NUMBER ZERO TWO DASH FOUR NINE HAS ESCAPED. LETHAL FORCE IS AUTHORIZED.*

I cursed under my breath. I had no more time to ponder questions that had no answers. I had to get to the sewers, and make my way to the docks. I ran, taking the stairs two at a time, and shedding the guard's armour as I descended. Finally reaching the shower block, my eyes fell upon the drain that led to the sewers. Beside the grate laid my Basilisk's Spirit. Hoisting it onto my back, I felt the cannons click into place on my shoulders. Shoving both arms into the barrels, I didn't wait for the transformation to complete before wrapping my fingers around the bars of the drain. Pulling hard, the rusty metal lattice tore free.

Hearing the rhythmic thud of metal boots on the stairs, I spun around, and hurled the manhole to the door. As it opened, the manhole struck a guard in the stomach, knocking him down. Deciding not to stick around to see if I had taken the guard out, I jumped into the pit, gripping the walls with my gauntlets to slow my descent into the murky tunnels below.

I landed with a splash in a river of stagnant water, and immediately took off running, hearing soldiers barking orders behind me on the surface. The tunnel began to darken, but I kept running, looking for any sort of marker. Finally, I spotted a fluorescent green glow out of the corner of my eye. I looked to the source of the light, and saw an arrow painted onto the crumbling brickwork. Deciding to cover my tracks, just in case the guards had pursued me this deep into the bowels of Atlas, I swung a gauntleted fist at the glow, destroying the metaphorical breadcrumb trail. Then, to delay any pursuers, I did the same to another branching path, and followed where the arrow pointed.

The winding tunnels beneath the kingdom of Atlas seemed endless, but I continued to press on, hoping to reach the docks before that surface access point was blocked off.

Finally, after what felt like hours stumbling in the dark and damp tunnels, a diamond, glowing a dull blue, illuminated the tunnel ever so slightly. Next to it was a ladder, along with some stenciled writing. Squinting through the inky blackness, I was just able to make out the words, partially weathered away to time, but still legible.

SURFACE ACCESS

SHIPYARDS

Clambering up the ladder, I edged the manhole ajar, just enough to see the immediate surroundings. There weren't any armoured feet, as far as I could tell, so perhaps I had gotten lucky. With a sharp grating noise, I slid the manhole free, and hauled myself up, grateful to be out of the nauseating stench of the tunnels, quickly replacing the manhole, so as to throw off any suspicion.

Night had fallen, and security guards armed with flashlights patrolled the area. Hunkering down, I began to scan the crates, looking for the emblem that woman had told me about.

"...saying he's escaped?"

I froze. Voices were growing closer. Tumbling over a pile of pallets, I tried to keep my nervous breathing under control.

"Yeah... Keep an eye out, he might try to stow away on a ship."

"Like it matters. Only outgoing ships are cargo transports, all packed to the brim."

The guards were almost on top of me, and my heart rate accelerated. If they found me, I was as good as dead. But through my heartbeats, I felt something crawl up my leg.

Suppressing an urge to yell in shock, I tried to find the creature, and hurl it away. But whatever it was, it was a slippery little thing; any attempt I made to grab it only caused the creature to skitter to a different area.

"Hey, hold on. I think I hear something. Wait here."

Terror flashed through my body. Finally grabbing the creature, I hoisted it out, and placed it on the ground. With a squeak, it scuttled away, and the guard's flashlight finally revealed the creature.

A small rodent. The guard sighed.

"False alarm. Just a rat."

"Are you sure? Rats don't just appear from nowhere." His partner asked.

"Little guy was probably scrounging for food. Come on, we gotta get back to our post." The first guard stated.

Not daring to move until the guard's footfalls faded away completely, I emerged from my hiding place, and breathed a sigh of relief. That was too damn close.

Turning back to where the guards had originally come from, I resumed my search, hoping my luck would hold out.

Scanning crate after crate proved to be a tiresome venture, one that was not helped by the overbearing fact that all I had done in the past few hours would be for naught were I to be spotted.

That woman had said to look for a crate marked with my initials, but so far, nothing had leapt out at me. All I had seen were logos, company names, and the odd smear of graffiti, none of which could help me.

Finally, I passed by a small crate, emblazoned with a bold title. "Taijitu Transport". Accompanying the words was the stylised image of a King Taijitu, with the body of the serpent coiled, and both heads facing away from each other, one to the left, and one to the right, both ready to strike at prey which did not appear to be there. Looking at any inconspicuous part of the crate, nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary. I was about to pass it by, when I glanced a little bit closer at the snake. Both of the creature's mouths were open... the rightmost head looked to form a perfect curve. Switching my focus to the other head, I traced a finger over the logo, feeling a small scratch on the crate. A line gouged between the extreme edge of the gaping maw of the head on the left.

D. C.

My initials.

Like I suspected. The serpent's jaws hid my initials perfectly, made visible by negative space. Whoever made that design was a goddamn genius. Approaching the crate, I gently grasped the lid, and pulled it away. It was too dark to see inside, but I had no other choice. I clambered in, and tried to replace the cover as best I could.

If it was dark before in the middle of the night, the crate's interior was pitch black. The crate was lined with a substantial amount of packing material, likely to hide any signs of life from exterior scans. With my only companions being the packing material that surrounded me, all there was left to do was wait.

Closing my eyes, I tried to catch up on some much needed sleep.

Aroused from my slumber by the whirring of engines, I looked around, only now remembering that the crate was tightly secured, and that no light could get in. But judging from the noise that had awakened me, I assumed that the crate had been loaded onto an airship, which was now traveling. The air inside the crate was beginning to taste stale, so I needed a way out, and fast.

I tried to force the lid of the box open, but the interior was too cramped to get proper leverage, and the slat of wood was sealed tight. I decided against any further efforts of breaking free, and instead focused on controlling my breath. If the airship I was loaded on was destined for a faraway location, I'd need all the oxygen I could get. I stopped moving, and tried to control my breathing.

The claustrophobic interior of the crate was not an enjoyable experience. Able to see nothing, hear only muffled voices, and smell only the decaying packing material and stale air was maddening. But wherever the airship was bound for, I didn't care. So long as it would take me away from that cesspit of a prison. But if I was to die, I'd have liked it to be in battle, rather than hiding in an airtight box.

"...ing to help them, right?"

"What? No. I'm trying to avoid them."

Voices. And one of them sounded familiar. Twisting my body, I tried to find a peephole of some sort in the wood, but nothing stood out. It was just blackness.

"Hey, kid? Do me a favour and check the cargo? Seems like we have a stowaway. Besides you, I mean."

Damn. I'd made too much noise, and now I was about to pay. My heart raced as the seconds ticked by, terrified of who would be the one to open this cage.

The wood creaked, as the slab that had been nailed into place above my head was torn free. Light flooded into my darkness adjusted eyes, almost blinding me. Instinctively, I inhaled deeply and stood up, grateful that severe cramping hadn't yet set in. Sure, I was stiff and sore, but now it was tolerable instead of crippling.

"Conway? B-but how?"

Blinking my eyes, trying to get used to the sudden light, a familiar figure stood before me holding a crowbar.

"Weiss? Is that..."

Trying to clamber out of the crate, I'd forgotten that my muscles had virtually seized up, and before I knew it, I was lying on my front, the crate having toppled over, and scattering packing material everywhere. Looking up, I saw Weiss kneeling down in front of me, the crowbar lying discarded beside her. Instead of the jacket and combat skirt, Weiss was now wearing a pale blue dress, with a small opening at her cleavage. Her hair had grown, almost reaching her knees, but it was still in the same side ponytail I remembered.

"Are you okay?"

Slowly getting to my feet, I brushed myself down, and looked to Weiss.

"Just wondering how you got first class, and I'm stuck with economy." I snarked, looking back to the wooden prison I had been trapped in. Weiss got to her feet, a smile creeping on her face. Not a smug, condescending smile, but a genuine one, full of warmth. Without warning, she wrapped her arms around me.

"I'm so glad you're alright. I heard about the bounty on your head, and when word spread that you'd been captured, I feared the worst." Weiss breathed. Gently hugging her back, we pulled away after a few seconds.

"Yeah. Never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad to see you." I answered.

*Bee-beep! Bee-beep! Bee-beep!*

My scroll was ringing. Opening up the interface, I answered the call, which was an anonymous number.

"Mr. Conway? I take it you're safe?"

"Who is this?" I asked.

"It's General Ironwood."

My hands clenched.

"I'm doing all I can to stall the Council, but they are quite angry at your escape." The general stated.

"And what? You're calling to tell me to surrender?" I spat.

"On the contrary, I'm calling to see if your escape went without incident. Winter only captured you to nullify the bounty. Now that you've escaped, I want you to go to Haven Academy in Mistral. Find Headmaster Lionheart. He can help you." Ironwood answered, his voice unfaltering.

"But I don't get it. You've never trusted me. You thought I uploaded the virus, you ordered my detainment after the PISCES incident. So why would you want to help me?" I asked, confused. Through the speaker, General Ironwood sighed.

"I understand that you likely hold an unfavourable opinion of me, in light of our brief interactions. So let me explain."

"Your academies' headmasters wield more power than most armies, and one was audacious enough to control both."

Gritting my teeth, I got to my feet, and walked briskly to the exits, wondering why Barty and Port hadn't cut the transmission yet, or how Conway had managed to get out of his dormitory. As I strode up the stairs, my earpiece began buzzing.

"This is Gold Three! We've got bogies incoming from the south!"

"Blue Seven! I have visual on inbound Grimm! Coming from the northeast!"

"This is Red Six! Hostiles are inbound from the west! And the north! Oh gods, they're coming from everywhere!"

The overlapping voices created a deafening buzz of static, so much so that I had to cringe in pain, as I ripped off the speaker, if only to get a brief respite. Finally seeing the door to the commentary booth, I slammed it open, causing both Barty and Port to turn to me in shock. Marching up between them, I grabbed the microphone in front of Port, and flipped the switch on it.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please. There is no need for panic."

But my words fell on deaf ears, as crowds were already scrambling in a panicked frenzy for the exits. Matters weren't helped when a crash sounded, as if something heavy had slammed into the coliseum's protective shields. Craning my neck to see out of the window, I laid eyes on a Giant Nevermore, which had taken roost atop the shield, and was now slamming it's beak into the field.

At that moment, my Scroll rang. Picking it up, I saw that the caller was Ozpin. I answered, and prepared for a series of lectures.

"Ozpin, the girl... I-I can explain!" I pleaded, but never got the chance to do so, as Ozpin spoke.

"You brought your army to my kingdom, James." Ozpin stated gravely. A moment passed, before he spoke again, this time with anger.

"Use it."

I nodded, and was about to disconnect, when Ozpin spoke again.

"And General... There's a possibility that I might not survive the night. Should that happen... then promise me..."

"...that you'll keep me alive..." I breathed.

"Yes."

"But why would you-?"

"I'll admit, a part of me wanted to disobey that order, and bring you in for execution myself. But despite all the evidence that was linked to you, Ozpin still believed your innocence. I had mistrusted Ozpin before... and we all paid the price for it."

"What do you mean?" I asked. Ironwood sighed.

"Ozpin had always told my colleagues and I to trust him, but once the Breach at Vale was closed, I went to the Council to take control of the security at Vale. I felt that Ozpin wasn't doing enough to protect the kingdom, and that I had to step in. And once that virus took control of my soldiers, I realized that my efforts to protect the kingdom only doomed it. So protecting you is my way of trying to make things right. I don't expect you to forgive my hostility, nor do I deserve it... but you deserve to hear my explanation." The general explained.

I said nothing for a while. The man whom I had thought would heartlessly send an army to kill me... was actually trying to help me.

The tin man truly did have a heart.

"Darrel?"

"General... thank you. I'll make sure that your trust in me isn't misplaced. Good luck with the Council." I said, as warmly as I could.

"Thanks... soldier. Now go and give them hell." Ironwood replied. And with that, he hung up. I looked at the screen as it showed the number fade away.

"Roger that. Semper fi." I whispered, closing my Scroll. Weiss looked to me curiously.

"Was that General Ironwood?" She asked. I nodded.

"Yeah. All this time, I thought he wanted me dead, like most of Remnant. Turns out he believes my innocence." I explained, feeling like a massive weight had been taken from my shoulders.

"Good." Weiss smiled.

"Anyway, what are you doing here? I thought your father took you back to Atlas." I asked.

"He did. But after I lost my temper at a charity fundraiser ball, he disinherited me. I can do a lot more good out there than I can cooped up in my household, so I decided to leave. And if my father finds out, then damn him." She explained, her face twisting with loathing at the mention of Mr. Schnee.

"Family problems?" I asked. Weiss nodded slightly.

"Father is more concerned about lining his coffers than helping the people suffering from the Fall of Vale. And my brother is a manipulative little weasel who knows nothing about the growing strength of our enemies. So I decided to leave and find my sister, try and help her somehow." She explained.

"Your sister...?" I asked. Weiss nodded.

"We exchanged communications from time to time while we were at Beacon. She seemed to take an interest in you, and your stubborn personality, abrasive as it was." She explained.

Abrasive... stubborn personality...

The pieces clicked together. The Huntress who had brought me to Atlas... that must have been Weiss's sister.

"So that's how she knew me..." I realized.

"What?"

"I met your sister. Charming woman. Strong too. I can see why you look up to her." I stated.

"How did you come across her?" Weiss asked, a little surprised.

"You didn't hear? She was the one who detained me. Probably so I could be sprung from jail without worrying about the price on my head afterwards." I answered. Weiss smiled.

"Winter is Ironwood's most trusted lieutenant in the Atlaseian forces. I can understand why."

Before our conversation could continue, the cargo bay rocked suddenly. Weiss immediately about-faced, and began to unsteadily make her way to the cockpit. Curious as to our surroundings, I followed.

The cockpit's windshield revealed a majestic sight. Rock formations were floating above a deep blue spread, with a mountainous landmass barely visible on the horizon. From the gravity-defying rocks, purple glowing crystals had erupted, some which glowed like a cluster of amethysts. Gravity Dust, I assumed.

"Where did he come from?! I'm not running a luxury yacht here!"

The pilot looked to me, his mouth open in shock. I looked at him, and shrugged.

"Long story. But just consider me cargo." I replied. The pilot began to speak, but only elicited small stutters. Weiss stepped forward, stalling any further questions regarding my presence.

"Where are we?" Weiss asked the pilot. He turned his head slightly to acknowledge her, while still focusing on what lay ahead.

"Uhh... Nowhere good. Passing by some of Lake Matsu's floating islands. The gravity Dust that forms in these things is giving us a little turbulence."

Out of the corner of my eye, a black cloud caught my attention. While the pilot talked about the Grimm that sometimes hid in the floating mesas, I squinted my eyes, trying to make out the cause of the cloud. A moment later, my heart skipped a beat.

That was no cloud. It was something much worse.

"Incoming! 3 o'clock!" I yelled. The pilot looked to the right, swore, and yanked the joystick hard, maneuvering the cargo plane to barely avoid the smoking airship that had been beset by gigantic wasp-like creatures.

"You've gotta be kidding me!"

The pilot flicked some switches, and the radio crackled to life. Through the static, the pleas of the crew aboard the doomed craft came through, but were swiftly silenced, as one of the demonic wasps soared through the air, before crashing headlong through the ship, causing it to explode. Only flaming detritus jettisoned from the wreckage; everyone aboard must have perished.

"Lancers... freaking Lancers!" The pilot muttered. Weiss looked to me, and we shared a mutual nod. The pilot hadn't even righted the craft when Weiss and I hurried back to the cargo bay. As Weiss grabbed the discarded crowbar, and her weapon from a nearby suitcase, I began to tap on my interface, hearing the metal form over my shoulder into the autocannon. While we prepared, the loudspeaker buzzed.

"What the hell are you two doing?!" The pilot yelled over the intercom.

"What we should have done in the first place! You're carrying Dust, right?" Weiss yelled back.

"Officially, no. Actually, yes."

Weiss quickly tore open one of the numerous crates, and grabbed six vials of powdered Dust, loading her rapier in one swift movement.

"Then when I tell you, open the rear door!" Weiss yelled, before turning to me.

"You ever faced a Lancer before?" She asked.

"Once or twice." I replied. All my time spent in the wilds had taught me more about the Grimm than Professor Port's classes ever could. Lancers... they were a troublesome foe. They were like the Strekoza, in a way. Large winged beasts, with barbed appendages. But whereas the Strekoza was content to operate alone, generating intense soundwaves to interfere with an aircraft's instruments and attack in the confusion, the Lancer preferred a more direct approach: firing their stinger, harpooning the aircraft in numbers and pulling it apart, sacrificing themselves in kamikaze attacks, if necessary.

"Then get ready." Weiss responded, extending her arm out to me. Tapping my interface, my cannons began to audibly charge, while I grabbed her wrist, and absorbed her Semblance.

"Always am, Weiss." I smirked. Weiss raised her arm, and two black glyphs appeared on the floor, one beneath her feet, and another underneath mine.

"We're cutting it close!" The pilot yelled.

"Ready!" Weiss yelled. An alarm blared, and the hatch opened up, flooding the cargo bay with light, and revealing the cloud of Lancers hot on our tail. Weiss took aim, and fired numerous streaks of Dust, using glyphs to redirect the trails of energy into one of the Lancers, causing it to plummet into the water below with a dying screech. Taking aim, I fired a series of blasts, summoning some glyphs of my own to deflect each blast into another glyph, repeating over and over again, until finally, the shots were rebounded into a single beam of energy, which engulfed one Lancer, and smothered the wings of a second, sending both to the vast ocean below.

"Haha! Hold on back there!"

As the pilot continued to evade the creatures, Weiss and I took aim whenever we could. But whenever a Lancer was shot down, another took it's place. While both Weiss and I were content to keep blasting, we wouldn't be able to keep this up forever.

The ship rocked violently, sending Weiss off-balance, and knocking me to the floor, in spite of the glyphs anchoring us down. The sound of shearing metal hit my ears, and the ship bucked again.

"What was that?!" Weiss yelled, trying to steady herself. The loudspeaker crackled into life, and amid bursts of static, the pilot responded.

"We're hooked!"

Though we couldn't see where the Lancers had anchored themselves to the ship, they were clearly trying to steer the craft. And with the floating islands we were soaring past, it was painfully obvious what they were trying to do: a collision with one of the mountains would be disastrous.

"I got an idea! Hold on! Literally!"

And with that, Weiss summoned another pair of glyphs, once again keeping us rooted to the floor. After a moment, the ship dived, upending the cargo bay. Boxes flew everywhere, but we managed to stay in place. More metal sheared, and the airship's movement was no longer impeded. The pilot's dive had loosened the Lancers that had harpooned the craft. Now it was a matter of evading the swarm until we managed to escape the Grimm's territory.

"Can you find a pair of islands we can fit between?!" Weiss yelled. From the loudspeaker, the pilot chuckled.

"Kid, you are reading my mind!"

The craft tilted, and the swarm followed. As walls of rock appeared in our view, Weiss summoned three red glyphs, which began to burn brightly. I simply crouched down, and took a firm grip of the cannon on my shoulder, aiming for the walls. The Lancers continued to grow closer, and the canyon grew narrower, until Weiss nodded to me.

As she fired a series of fireballs from her glyphs, I took aim at one of the Dust crystals embedded in the rock, and fired. Weiss's projectiles struck the rock walls, splintering off chunks and sending them raining onto the swarm, whereas my blast shattered one of the crystals, causing an explosion of darkness. The Lancers in the swarm bucked crazily, the inclement gravitational anomaly causing them to overcompensate with their attempts to correct course. Some flew into the boulders, others impacted into their allies. As the islands shrank from view, the swarm disappeared in the chaos. The pilot cheered over the intercom.

"Haha! Great work, kids! We are in the clear!"

Weiss breathed a sigh of relief, and I was about to store my cannon away, when I heard a faint buzzing. Looking out the ramp, a single Lancer rose into view. But this one looked larger. Weiss's eyes widened in shock.

"It's a Queen Lancer!"

"What?!" Both pilot and I had the same reaction. The ship bucked and weaved, trying to lose the insect in the floating mountains, but it stayed on our tail like a moth to a flame. Both Weiss and I fired our weapons at the creature, but the monster simply shrugged them off.

"Do something!" The pilot was practically begging at this point. In desperation, Weiss swiped her weapon against the straps securing the crates to the cargo bay, and hurled them at the creature using her glyphs. But even that wasn't enough; the Queen Lancer simply burst through the smoke, none the worse for wear. It flew up above us, and began to fire bony spikes at our craft, causing metal to shear and alarms to blare.

"I can see the shoreline! Gods, we're not gonna make it!"

Despite the chaos, Weiss breathed calmly, and performed a series of poses, creating a glyph on the floor, and a second one on the ceiling. But instead of using either glyph as a springboard, or as a filter for one of her Dust attacks, an armoured humanoid, glistening a blinding white, was formed from a shimmering mist. As it rose to its full height, I recognized the titan.

It was the same one I had seen Weiss fight a lifetime ago. The giant suit of armour that had given Weiss her scar.

"Pull up! Now!"

The airship bucked, and my stomach lurched, as the pilot followed Weiss's order. The craft began to loop, sending the few crates still in the loading bay tumbling everywhere, and the floor became the ceiling. Weiss easily traversed around the rolling room, whereas I ungainly tumbled to the floor. Ceiling. Whatever. Looking up, I saw Weiss gesture to the open loading ramp, and the snow-white paladin leapt out of the ship, and towards the Queen Lancer.

The ship evened out of its loop, and the knight vanished before the Lancer. While it looked around in confusion, the knight rematerialized beneath the Lancer, jumping up to slash it with a newly drawn sword. With more glyphs appearing, the knight sliced at the creature from a myriad of angles, until finally, it dove straight through the wasp, cutting it in half, before fading into sparkles. As the bifurcated creature dissolved into wisps of smoke, another explosion rocked the ship, and I noticed that gravity had been lessened somewhat.

The ship was going down.

Weiss looked back to the ship, and raised her hand again, which glowed slightly. She was using her glyphs to try and slow the ship. But I had to do something too. I couldn't- no, I wouldn't just stand by. Activating my thrusters, I pulled up the bandana around my neck to cover my face, sprinted to the open ramp, and leapt out. Tapping on my thrusters, I began to fly alongside the ship, inspecting the damage.

The starboard wing was shredded, and billowing out a massive gout of smoke and fire. The engines were in much worse shape, sputtering and dying audibly. One of Weiss's black glyphs formed in front of the ship, but it only slowed the ship for a second before shattering, as the craft plowed through, streaking to the shoreline like a torpedo. Stopping the plane wouldn't be possible. Not at this speed, and certainly not at this angle.

But if I could redirect it...

Burning my thrusters into overdrive, I flew just underneath the nosecone, getting into position to steer the craft myself. Slamming my armoured fists into the metal, I let out a roar of effort, as I tried to redirect the aircraft's angle of descent, in an attempt to cause a belly landing. True, I had no way of knowing if this would even work, but my brain saw the logic: aim the nose down, and the craft crumples in on itself. Aim it up, and the belly takes the brunt of the impact.

Squeezing my eyes open for a glance at our trajectory, I saw a forest canopy fast approaching. Feeling panic swell within me, I wrenched my fists free, and rocketed away from the fuselage, watching it hit the ground with a horrific crash. Using blasts from my gauntlets, I tried to slow my descent, hitting the ground and tumbling head over heels due to the forward momentum. With every single one of my muscles feeling like they had been stretched beyond comprehension, I got to my feet, feeling sore all over, and looked to the aftermath of the crash.

The mangled ship had carved a path through the trees, uprooting some, splintering others, and stirred up an unholy amount of dust. The wings had torn off, and the engines dimmed with a whine. Stumbling forward to the wreckage, I tried to wave the dust away, feeling it prickle against my eyes. Through the smoke, smoulders and soot, I glimpsed Weiss limp out of the wreck, coughing and clutching her side.

"Weiss!"

I stumbled forward, as she toppled to the ground, her clothes marred with dirt. I knelt beside her, looking for any injuries. A brief inspection over her body showed no signs of major damage, sans the cuts and bruises one would expect from a plane crash survivor. I laid a hand on Weiss's shoulder, not feeling any movement from her.

"Stay put! I'll- *cough* I'll go find help!" I reassured, more for my sake than Weiss's. Getting to my feet, I turned to find two men standing behind me, pointing their weapons at my skull. One man was dressed in a tunic with a bandolier over his shoulder, a cloth tied around his head, covering his eye, and a shaggy goatee. The other had armour plating on his left arm, and had a scar on his face, the pink flesh contrasting against his olive coloured skin.

"Don't. Move." The man on the right growled. Knowing that my Aura would be considerably drained after the fight, I raised my hands in surrender. His colleague strode past me, kneeling down beside Weiss. As she groaned out a plea for help, the bandit kneeling over her looked over his shoulder.

"Boss! We got a live one!" He yelled, catching the attention of a dark clothed woman, with a bone white mask under her arm. As she strode up to us, I recognized the mask as it grew closer: it was the same mask that adorned the woman that had saved Yang and I on the train. Looking to the woman, I immediately noticed that she was the spitting image of Yang. But the only differences were that her hair was as black as a moonless night, and her eyes were a blood red, much like the colour Yang's eyes shifted to whenever her Semblance was active. Getting a good look at me, her face lit up with piqued curiosity.

"Well well. The Butcher of Beacon himself. Might this be your handiwork?" She purred, gesturing to the wreckage behind me.

"You... you were the one on the train..." I breathed in shock. The woman smiled, and turned to her henchmen.

"Take them to the camp." She purred. One of the bandits stepped forward, and slammed the butt of his weapon into my skull. As I dropped like a sack of potatoes, the woman chuckled.

"I think we just hit the jackpot."

Darrel reuniting with Weiss first may seem a little odd, but Ruby and JNR are at Mistral already, Menagerie wouldn't welcome Darrel, and Yang meeting Darrel in the wilderness seems too... cliché. Besides, Darrel's had the least amount of interactions with Weiss, so I figured, may as well balance it out.

Originally, I wanted Klein to escort Darrel out of jail, but I couldn't get his numerous personalities to work with the scene. That, and I wanted to give Darrel a heads up on the future, without having him see episodes of RWBY.