Chapter 5: Captured

Disclaimer: I do not in any way or form own Gate: Thus the JSDF Fought There or RWBY. They belong to their respective owners, Takumi Yanai and RoosterTeeth Animations respectively.

A/N: Fixed the 'invisible magic bullets' part. Thanks, RinneItachi.

"A week ago, a devastating tragedy occurred in Vale. The Gate, whose origins are still unknown, sent forth an army into the heart of our kingdom. Despite being repelled quickly, they managed to kill almost a hundred civilians and injure hundreds more. It was a grave tragedy indeed.

But what now? Well, the council has met and decided to suspend the Vytal Festival Tournament indefinitely, due to the risk of a repeat of this event. The Vale police force is on full alert, and General Ironwood has sent his Knights to patrol the streets, claiming that he has no objective but to keep the people safe.

The council has also organized a joint expedition through the Gate, to prevent further invasions from it. Already, one such attempt has been thwarted. Reports state that an army of a hundred thousand attempted to break through our defenses on Falmart, only to be ruthlessly gunned down. The enemy army took over 60,000 casualties. They may be our enemies, but was such a slaughter necessary?"

Blake was jolted awake when whatever she was lying on bounced. Her head hit the ground, adding a sharp pain to the massive headache that had begun throbbing to life. Groaning, she closed her eyes, trying to manage the sensory overload.

Focusing on her faunus-enhanced hearing, Blake began taking in her surroundings. The creaking of a wooden vehicle, muttering voices, and the rhythmic clip-clop of hooves. The sounds reached her cat ears clearly, allowing her to paint a picture of her surroundings - she was in a wooden cart of some sort, drawn by horses. And she wasn't alone.

Slowly opening her eyes, Blake's first sight was that of the stars. Whatever this place was, the air was unpolluted. For a moment, Blake forgot that she was in an unknown place, lost in the mesmerizing beauty of the stars above. The air was clean and fresh, flowing past her cat ears with a light touch.

A jolt of fear snapped her out of her trance. Her bow! Blake moved her hands to check, only to find that her movements seemed restricted. Bringing her hands into her vision, she found that they were tied up with a few layers of rope.

The cart hit another bump, jolting its occupants once more. Once more Blake's head smacked against the hard wooden floor, bringing forth a cry of pain.

What happened? How did she get here? Where was here? Questions flashed through her mind, and Blake tried to recall. Her team won the first round of the Vytal Festival Tournament, so they went to the fairgrounds to eat. JNPR joined them and Pyrrha offered to pay. The shopkeeper made her the special dish, noodles with lots of fish. Fishhhhhh...

What was she thinking about again? The fairgrounds. The invasion. They were surrounded by defenseless people, poorly armored, and without aura. She overextended, trying to kill the huge green beast. Struck by lightning and tripped on an invisible rock. Then... she must have gotten knocked out and captured.

Her team must be freaking out. Knowing them, they would find a way to get... here, wherever here was, and find her. So she would have to find out where she was, and if possible, attract the attention of her team. First, she had to escape.

Another bump jolted her out of her contemplations and her crashing against the floor. Hissing in pain, Blake sat up, looking over herself. Her clothes seemed fine, protected from damage by aura. Gambol Shroud was missing, which was unfortunate but expected. Her hands and legs were tied. Blake began moving her arms, testing the strength of the ropes that tied her hands together. They were flimsy, already partially frayed. With her aura-enhanced strength, she would be able to break them easily. Flexing her arms, Blake was preparing to free herself when a voice interrupted her.

"Hey, you. You're finally awake."

Startled, Blake temporarily gave up trying to free herself in favor of finding the source. Looking around, she saw that the wagon, horse-drawn and open to the sky, had one other occupant. He was a middle-aged man, sitting at a corner of the wagon. She immediately saw the ugly scar over his right eye, which was milky white. His other eye, black as night, was fixed on her, glinting with hidden intelligence. Like her, his arms and legs were bound. Blake took in his uniform. Despite it being dirtied and scraped, its original pale blue color and the emblem it bore were unmistakable. The man was from Atlas.

Instinctively, Blake's ears flattened down as she turned away from him, trying her best to hide her faunus heritage.

Her actions brought forth a dry chuckle. "Too late for that," the man said, "Besides, we have other things to worry about."

"Who are you?" Blake ventured, slowly turning around to face her only companion. Despite the Atlas uniform, he didn't seem like a soldier. He was too relaxed and his speech too open, not at all like how a soldier would act. At least he didn't seem racist.

"Name's Arta, but please can call me Art. I was in the fairgrounds when these guys invaded, same as you," the man, Art, replied.

"You got captured?" Blake blurted out, before realizing what a stupid question that was.

"No, I decided to tie myself up and get into a creaky old wagon," Art said, his voice oozing sarcasm.

Balke shifted into a more comfortable position. She realized that she was going to be stuck here for a while until she could come up with an escape plan. In the meantime, she would have to find out as much as she could about her situation.

"Care to tell me your name, kitty?"

Her ears flattened down again, the nickname bringing up bad memories. If Art noticed, he didn't react, just sitting there waiting for a response. "Blake. Blake Belladonna. I'm a student at Beacon," she told him, hoping that knowing her name would prevent him from mocking her faunus trait.

"Blake. So you have a team, then?"

Blake smiled a little at that. "Yeah. They'll find us. We just have to hold out until then. What can you tell me about this place?"

"I'm glad you asked," Art replied, a self-satisfied smile breaking out. "We are in a place known as Falmart. The Empire, which is some major fraction, captured us when they tried to invade Vale. That failed by the way, from what I could gather. Failed miserably."

"How do you know this? I can't understand them," Blake stated. While her faunus trait allowed her to hear much more clearly than humans, all the conversations she could overhear were in an alien language.

"Oh, that. I'm a linguist. I was doing the translations for the Vytal Festival, you know?"

"But these men don't speak any language on Remnant. How can you understand them?" Blake questioned.

"I'm not your normal linguist, Blake. My semblance makes me the best at this. It allows me to understand every written and spoken language, even if I'd never experienced it before," Art explained. Then, he laughed bitterly. "Isn't it amusing? If I didn't get captured, I would be most helpful in transcribing their language and hastening the rescue effort."

"You seem awfully calm about this," Blake noted. Come to think of it, so was she. Instead of freaking out, she was discussing her situation with a stranger.

A light chuckle brought her back to the talk at hand. "I've been through worse," Art commented, running a finger over his scar, despite his hands being tied together. He then nodded to Blake, "I'm guessing you have, too."

The Breach. Roman and his mech. The White Fang. Adam...

"I guess I have," Blake replied evenly, trying to keep her emotions in check. Her team had always been there for her. She had to get back. "What else can you tell me?"

Before the conversation could continue, the wagon slowed to a stop, and Blake could hear talking. Looking around, she saw the great stone walls of a city in front of the convoy, looming over them.

"The city of Italica," Art supplied, closing his eyes as he listened to the conversations taking place around him. Suddenly, he must have heard something that alarmed him as his eyes widened. Speaking quickly but softly, he said, "We do not have much time. You're getting off here."

"What?"

"You've just been sold to clan Formal of Italica. As a slave."

"I'm no slave!" Blake burst out, "If they think that I will just let them-"

"Shut up and listen to me," Art interrupted her. Following that, he reached into his boot with tied hands and drew out a small, sheathed knife, which he tossed to Blake. Even with her hands tied, she caught it easily. Despite it being sheathed, Blake could tell that it was elegantly created, obviously a custom made knife, with a word engraved on the handle in a language that she couldn't read.

"Use it well. When the transfer starts, I will distract them. You will run. Get free and find your team," Art ordered.

"Why are you doing this for me?"

Art shrugged, "Why not?"

"Atlas is not known for treating its faunus population well. Why not free yourself, and leave me?"

"Because of how this place treats faunus like you. Me, I'm human and can speak their language. I'll be fine. But you. These guys see faunus as slaves. Lesser beings. Besides, I have a plan. Now do you really want to keep arguing with me, or would you rather cut those ropes instead?"

Blake pulled her arms apart, tearing the flimsy ropes apart. She then did the same for those around her legs.

Art blinked. "Oh. Ah, well. Keep the knife. I expect it back, though."

The wagon began moving again, passing through the walls to enter the city of Italica. They didn't get far before the wagon stopped once more, and men opened up the back of the cart, leering eyes looking over Blake.

She shuddered under their gazes, twisting away so that they couldn't see that she had freed herself. Tensing her muscles, Blake prepared to spring into action.

"Run," Art whispered.

Blake sprang up and over the heads to the flabbergasted humans, landing softly behind the group. They got over their shock quickly and turned to give chase, only to hesitate when Art began shouting from his place on the wagon. Blake couldn't understand what he was saying - but the locals could, and they seemed to be freaking out. Everyone in the area seemed to focus on him, their faces a combination of fear and awe. Largely unnoticed by the panicked group, Blake darted away. She spotted an alley, so she quickly headed for it.

Run, Art had told her.

So Blake ran. Unfortunately, she didn't get far. Turning a corner, she ran straight into a large man, bouncing off his chest.

"Come 'ere," he growled, reaching out a meaty hand to grab Blake. The huntress-in-training easily slipped under his clumsy grab, before sweeping his feet out. As he collapsed with a heavy thump, Blake got up and hurried away.

Run, the voice in her head told her.

Blake kept running. Every step she took brought her closer to safety - relatively speaking - but she wasn't safe yet. Another man lunged at her from the shadows, only to close his arms around a clone that vanished soon after. Unencumbered, Blake dodged aside and kept going, following the winding alleyway and hoping that she could find somewhere to hide.

Run, the voice was becoming twisted, yet familiar.

A guard was in her way, fully armored and waving a sword. Blake instinctively reached for Gambol Shroud, only to grasp air. Of course, her weapon would have been taken when she was captured. Dodging the guard's clumsy swing, Blake kept going.

Run, the voice spat with hatred and fury.

Blake finally recognized the voice of her mentor, her old partner, her ex. Adam Taurus. Shocked by his mental voice, Blake stumbled to a stop. A quick glance around showed that she was not being pursued, but she still felt uncomfortable. Darting into the shadow of an overhang, she paused to catch her breath.

Run like the coward you are, his voice rebounded in her head, mocking and cruel.

He told me to, Blake defended, barely noticing that she was arguing with herself. Again she looked around - the alley was deserted. She was safe, for now.

She would have to find shelter, food, water, and a place where she could wait for her team or a method to seek them out, but for now, Blake could relax.

But what about Art? the voice in her head insisted.

For some unknown reason, Blake pulled out the knife that he had gifted - loaned - her. Unsheathing it, she looked it over. The blade was gleaming metal, making the knife deadly despite its size. Running a finger lightly over the blade, Blake found that it was sharpened to a razor edge, an obvious indication of its value to its owner. The handle was sleek and white, with red strategically added on to give the look of roaring flame. The effort that had been put in was nothing to scoff at. Idly running a hand over the unknown inscription on the handle, Blake wondered.

Why had Art so easily loaned her such a valuable item? Market value aside, it was definitely a sentimental object. Why had that Atlas man been so willing to part with it, to sacrifice himself to allow her, a faunus to escape? ...sacrifice? No, he wasn't dead... was he?

Blake had to make sure. Her conscience wouldn't simply let her walk free while her savior met an unknown but most likely horrible fate. But if she wanted to check on him, she would have to be careful not to be noticed, wasting both their efforts.

Looking around the alley, Blake's eyes landed on a long brown cloak, hanging on a hook outside a door. It looked dirty and worn, but it had a hood that could hide her features, especially her ears. Making up her mind, Blake left the safety of her spot and briskly made her way over. She wouldn't usually even think about stealing, but these were extenuating circumstances. Blake easily claimed the cloak as she hurried by the door. Throwing it on, she found that, despite the smell assaulting her enhanced senses, it would hide her identity even if it was a bit big.

Now to check on Art.

Keeping her hood up and her head down, Blake left the alley and entered a larger street. It was crowded, full of people and merchants calling out their wares. Despite the late hour, it seemed that the city was still lively. Lost in the crowds, Blake attracted little attention as she made her way through the city.

Finding her way back to where she had escaped was surprisingly easy. In hardly any time, Blake had circled around, coming back to the gates of the city. She noticed the commotion immediately, the large group of armed men circling around a central location. Unfortunately, they blocked her view of what was happening, and attempting to get closer got her nothing but a spear at her neck.

Leave him be, Adam's voice returned, sneering. Who cares if he dies? He is but a mere human.

I care! Blake screamed back in her mind. I'm not like you. He saved me. If he needs help, I'll get him out.

Fool, Adam mocked.

Shutting his voice out, Blake focused on her surroundings. She had to find a way to get a better view, but how could she do that with the soldiers in her way?

From above.

The houses nearby were simple, two-story buildings. Tall enough to give Blake a vantage and short enough to climb. But she wouldn't do it in broad view.

Making her way to the back alley once more, Blake began to climb. With her training, aided by the variety of handholds, she easily made her way up to the roof of the house. Making sure her hood was secure, she cautiously peered over the edge.

Art was still there, seemingly uninjured. He was also still bound, with rings of soldiers pointing swords and spears at him. Nevertheless, he was standing calmly, talking to a finely dressed man. Uncaring of the numerous sharp objects being pointed at him, Art was conversing fluidly with the noble, easily answering his shouted questions in a language that Blake couldn't understand.

As though sensing her presence, Art turned to look straight at her. With the hood hiding her features and the night casting its shadow over the land, it was impossible for him to identify her. Yet Blake knew that he did. With a slight smile, Art waved his hand in a 'shoo' gesture.

The soldiers definitely noticed and turned to check the roofs, but Blake was already gone.

I'll come back for you, Art. I will repay this debt.

But first, Blake had to survive in this new world. And, if possible, attract the attention of the rescue party that Vale would definitely send. Her team, team RWBY, would come for her. It was just a matter of time.

Like a shadow, Blake vanished into the night.

A/N: Does Remnant have horses? Or any kind of wildlife, for that matter, apart from Grimm, dogs and rapier wasps. I'm assuming it does. Honestly, I don't remember seeing a single animal, apart from Zwei. Come to think of it, we never saw any rapier wasps, did we? All we got was a shaking box.

Art is the other major OC in my story. He has a larger role than 'plot device to help Blakey run', don't worry.

-Sav