Witnessing Cole's effortless dispelling of a red bolt, everyone's attention turned when a decrepit old man suddenly emerged from the bushes, his forearms ablaze with a golden-orange lightning, similar to Cole's.
"I've done some research on you and your ragtag group. You're so disorganized; it's pathetic," the cloaked figure taunted as he strolled towards Cole.
"It's adorable to see children think they have all the answers, only to stumble upon more questions than answers," he mused, stopping a few feet away from Cole. "I know why you run, child. You've been running from your problems; don't blame me for losing your home."
Cole furrowed his brows and retorted, "Who the hell do you think you are? I'm not running from anything."
"You ran from your father when you broke his nose defending your sister. You fled after stealing a pie. You caused the lightning storm that killed everyone in Lanka. You ran from the breach after Ezra's death. You escaped Beacon when things went south. And now, you're running from the woman you love, with her friends hunting you down. You've been running your whole life," the cloaked figure disclosed, pulling back his hood to reveal a bloodied, pale face with claw marks.
"Cole," he began, looking up with dim, tired eyes. "I'm here to bring you home."
Cole snapped, grabbing the man's throat and lifting him off the ground. "You don't know me! You shot that blood lightning at me!"
But the man pleaded, "I came to bring you home. You've lost so much already; your sister wouldn't want this."
Ignoring the man's plea, Cole choke-slammed him to the ground. The man gasped for breath, trying to speak, but Cole silenced him.
"Shut your mouth!" Cole roared, tears streaming down his face as he remembered his family's tragedies. "My father was killed by bandits, and Mom and Rayla died in that storm. I didn't do it."
With a surge of power, Cole attempted to extract something resembling a nerve system from the man's body, causing him to scream in agony.
As Cole struggled with the task, he thought, 'Why is this always so difficult?' But his focus remained on killing the man.
"You don't have the right to use my dead sister to preserve your vanity. You know nothing about me, Mom, Ezra, not a single one of them," Cole spat.
Suddenly, shadowy hands appeared and snatched the man away, causing Cole to let go. The shadows swallowed him whole.
The same feminine voice from his dream whispered, "You really don't know, do you? You'll find out soon enough."
Leaving Cole to ponder the inexplicable turn of events.
Approaching Cole, Adam offered a reassuring smile and placed a hand on his shoulder, saying, "Cole, it's time for your surgery. Follow me."
Cole met his words with a hint of skepticism and replied, "I hope I'm not getting a robotic arm. My power might just fry the thing."
Adam chuckled softly as he opened the tent flap, revealing their destination. "Don't worry, it's not a prosthetic, but I do promise you'll get a new arm."
Arching an eyebrow, Cole glanced at the operating table. "Alright, let's get this over with."
However, before he could fully comply, a man with an imperial beard and mustache, dressed in refined attire, interrupted. "Young man, you'll want to disrobe."
Puzzled, Cole asked, "Why would I need to do that?"
The man explained, "We're performing surgery, and we don't want your clothes stained with blood."
Clearly uncomfortable with the request, Cole retorted, "I'm not undressing for some stranger. I need answers, not a wardrobe change."
With a sigh of exasperation, the man swiftly administered a syringe to Cole's neck, injecting him with a mysterious black fluid. Cole's eyes widened in shock, and he collapsed into Adam's arms. "I'm not here to help you, child. I promise you the truth, but there's no need for you to be awake for what comes next," Watts said before signaling for the procedure to commence.
"Prepare him for the experiment. The serum's effects are temporary, so work swiftly, and ensure he doesn't escape. We can't afford to lose another knight," Watts instructed before exiting the tent.
Placing Cole on the table, Adam turned to the medical team and said, "You heard him; let's get to work as quickly as possible."
With a sense of inner turmoil, Adam spoke softly as he left the tent, "I'm sorry, Cole. This was beyond my control the moment you arrived in our camp."
Machines hummed to life as mechanical hands manipulated six vials of black and red tar-like slime, transferring them into syringes. The six needles injected the substance into Cole's left bicep, while he remained unconscious. As the syringes were withdrawn, his body convulsed and shook against the restraints, and large blobs formed under his skin, altering its density and color. The transformation stopped at his left stump, where a new arm began to take shape, joint by joint, down to the fingertips. Bones cracked and veins, cartilage, ligaments, tendons, muscles, and black skin formed. Finally, bone armor materialized, reminiscent of his previous armor, complete with sharp spines.
"Wrap his left arm in bandages and attempt to file down his bone armor," Watts instructed before exiting the tent and taking off in an unfamiliar one-man aircraft.
An hour later, Adam emerged from the tent, having cleaned Cole's bodysuit, and muttered to himself, "He needs to leave as soon as he wakes. If he inquires, tell him he can't stay for long and that his friends are tracking him or something. Make it sound convincing." Leaving the tent, Adam ordered the entire camp to pack up and prepare to leave as quickly as possible.
After Ilia spent an hour checking her weapons, a wave of regret and shame washed over her. She realized what she had done to a potential ally but tried to push it out of her mind, though the knot of guilt remained. "Maybe Blake was right to leave. I just wish she didn't leave me here as well," she murmured, a tear rolling down her face as her skin shifted to shades of blue and gray.
"This is for the best, human. I'm sorry it had to come to this. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me," another person muttered while sharpening a red chokutō with a whetstone.
Ilia forced herself to focus and went to the Smith to check if Cole's armor needed repairs. "Get it together, Ilia. You're a Fang member, not a sniveling child," she chided herself.
When Cole regained consciousness, he immediately sensed something was amiss. He held his head due to a throbbing headache and noticed he was in a snug medical bodysuit, an oxygen mask providing him with air. Instinctively, he attempted to rub his eyes with his left hand, only to discover that his arm was wrapped in bandages. He left it alone, unconcerned as long as he had an arm.
A tantalizing scent reached his nostrils-strawberries, roses, and chocolate. The source was a mystery to him, but the fragrance drew him in, filling his senses.
As memories of his family flooded back, he experienced the happiest moments with his mother and sister, juxtaposed with the darkest times of uncontrollable laughter, unbridled joy devolving into a drunken rage, the profound loneliness following their deaths, and the endless tears. Guilt plagued him, convinced that he had killed his mother and sister, which led to a deep self-loathing.
"I'm so sorry, Rayla. I failed you," he muttered, his thoughts shifting to Ezra. "You weren't supposed to die. Remnant, is it even worth saving?" He found himself floating in a mental void until he heard a faint voice. "How many… going to tell you, Cole?" A strange woman's voice spoke, tenderly embracing Cole's drifting form. "You aren't the one who killed Mom or me." The surroundings shifted, and they found themselves by the river where they used to play as children.
"I created that lightning storm when they took you, and I… I was so terrified of losing you that when I tried to confront Raven, I ended up killing you instead," he confessed, choking on his words, his gaze filled with grief that he had bottled up for so long.
"I killed people to survive, stole from families, hurt my closest friend, and now I'm on the run from the world for a crime I committed because-" Cole began to explain before she grabbed him, pulling him into a tight embrace and gently stroking the back of his head.
"Now look who the hysterical one is. Were you blamed for hurting Ruby's friends? Yes. Did you hurt Ruby? No, not physically anyway. You ran to escape, but that was the choice you had to make. Cinder and her band of dysfunctional goons helped you escape; you didn't do anything except leave Beacon Academy," she reassured him.
He looked up, hoping to see his long-lost sister, only to find his own reflection on a glossy black slab. His eyes had a radiant blue and green glow, his face resembling that of a Geist, with a triangular mask and a demonic feel. His skin was black and tougher than metal, canines longer and sharper, and his stature reaching a towering 6'10". His hair flowed like fluid quills down his back, and his fingernails had grown into four-inch claws. The scars from the lightning storm now glowed orange-gold with every heartbeat.
Bone plates replaced his armor, adorning his forearms, shoulders, torso, and thighs. His knees had triangular plates pointing upward, and his feet were clad in plated boots with dragon-like toes and claw-like nails. Vein-like cracks formed on his mask to accommodate the larger maw. The only remnants of Cole's original appearance were his eyes, but he couldn't help but feel disgust.
He realized he was becoming something beyond a typical Grimm, something unprecedented.
"You are neither human nor Grimm, but something new," the woman reappeared and reassured him. "You are still a beautiful creature, and I will love you, no matter what. As far as I know, this form will only manifest if you're nearly dead, your rage boils over the edge, or – although it's unlikely – you figure out how to transform and control it."
The dreamscape faded, and Cole awoke, feeling heavier than lead. Minutes passed slowly as he groggily emerged from the tent, frustrated that he had passed out three times in a day.
"I'm so hungry I could eat a whole stable of horses," he mumbled. He knelt over a barrel of water, dunked his head inside, and gulped down as much water as he could. When he pulled his head out, he was soaked, but he wore a wide, satisfied smile.
"Ahhh, that's much better," Cole mused to himself as he suited up in his armored bodysuit. He strapped new plates over the suit and secured his swords on his back, concealing them under a dark gray cloak. Approaching Ilia, who was sitting by a fire cooking a pot of food, he remarked, "Something smells good," followed by a tired yawn.
Ilia couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "That's seriously all you have to say? Not 'Where is everyone?' or 'Are my friends still hunting me like an animal?'" She stared at him, confusion in her eyes, and added, "Maybe just the first one. All my friends are now enemies, and my potential girlfriend hates me."
"Adam took everyone on an all-out assault on the Atlesian military base off the coast near Vale's shores," she explained, turning to face him. She noticed that he was already packing six metal lunch boxes, a blanket, two large canteens of water, and Adam's old jacket.
What perplexed her, though, was that he had also taken Adam's old phone and destroyed his own. Cole walked over to her and said, "Goodbye, Ilia. I really do wish we'd met on better terms." She simply scoffed at his words as she watched him leave.
"I'll just tell Adam he disappeared before I could find him," she muttered before testing the meal in her pot. "Needs more seasoning."
As Cole let his friendly façade slip away with a sigh, he scowled. "The only problem is I can't get caught. Gods only know what Ruby would do to me if she catches up with me." He pulled on his backpack and started walking out of the campsite. Unbeknownst to him, after a dead Ursa quickly disintegrated, the black smoke it emitted was swiftly absorbed by his arm, spreading up his bicep and morphing under the bandages to match his other hand, appearing just as muscular.
After an hour of walking, his growling stomach couldn't be ignored. He suppressed it, knowing Ruby and her friends were hot on his trail, determined to reach Mistral and start a new life as a mercenary or a bounty hunter.
His thoughts were abruptly interrupted when Ilia sprang from the tree and approached him with determination. "I'm coming with you," she declared. Cole, after setting his pack down, let out a sigh and entered the woods. He spent several minutes gathering wood, twigs, and rocks, his silence giving no answers when she inquired, "So, where are you – uh, we going anyway? I doubt you know where you are."
Out of nowhere, a bolt struck the fire pit, startling Ilia. She shot him a glare, irritated by his nonchalant attitude as he continued to toss a few twigs into the pit to feed the flames.
As the sky dimmed, Cole ate half of his meal and packed away the rest, deciding to get some sleep. Soon, he drifted off, while Ilia, still perplexed by his demeanor, gave him the stink eye.
While enjoying her meal, she couldn't help but wonder why he seemed so distant yet so kind, like a broken man pushing himself forward with a forced smile. "It doesn't matter what he's like or why he is the way he is," she thought, tossing her makeshift bowl into the fire. She watched it burn to ash and then resolved, "The moment we get to a town, I'm ditching him."
While Ilia reveled in a peaceful slumber, Cole's night unfolded quite differently. Surprisingly, the Grimm that stumbled upon the slumbering duo left them undisturbed, and even the local wildlife seemed to sense a strange tranquility in the air.
Without the usual distractions of schoolwork, temporary guard duty, or the forced interactions with his peers, Cole was left alone with his thoughts. The weight of past events, his unresolved guilt, and the recent upheaval pressed heavily upon him, leaving him searching for solace in the darkness.
Amid the quiet of the night, the desperate pleas of Ezra and his sister resonated within his unconscious mind, haunting him like specters.
"Mom!" he managed to cry out before being struck in the ribs by an unseen assailant. Another painful blow followed, accompanied by the agonized cries of his mother and sister, all set against the backdrop of blinding lightning.
For Cole, it was a harrowing loss of control, an unfamiliar sensation. As a child, he had never considered taking a life, save for those who actively sought to harm him or his family. But this time, his overwhelming anger radiated, affecting the entire village, like a storm of negativity.
His mother and sister lay on the flo"r, their barely audible voices filled with disappointment.
"I tried my best!" he pleaded, but Rayla's response cut deep.
"Sometimes, even your best isn't enough," she croaked, stirring a torrent of emotions within him, reminiscent of the taunts from his village days.
The words from his friends, once a source of strength, now turned into unbearable accusations. He bit his tongue to stifle the sobs, but his rage couldn't be contained. Tears flowed down his flushed cheeks as Raven's betrayal played out, ending in his sister's disappearance and his mother's death at the hands of that woman.
Amidst the turmoil, the voices of Team RWBY and JNPR, excluding Weiss and Ruby, joined the cacophony:
Blake: "YOU'RE THE REASON THEY'RE DEAD."
Nora: "YOU KILLED THEM ALL."
Pyrrha: "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?"
Jaune: "YOU'RE WORTHLESS."
Yang: "SHE'LL NEVER LOVE A MONSTER."
Ren: "WE WISH YOU HAD NEVER BEEN BORN."
Ruby's voice pierced through the chaos, and what captured his attention was her arms encircling his chest.
"A devil made from heaven and sent from above shouldn't believe he has control over anything," Ruby's words reverberated in his mind, inflicting emotional torment. Unbeknownst to him, her arms squeezed the life out of him, her claws digging into his chest.
The distorted screams and Insults overwhelmed him as he began to drown in a black, tar-like liquid. He fought desperately to free himself from Ruby's relentless grip, but it was in vain. Desperation and panic engulfed him as he reached for anything to hold onto, but it disintegrated under the weight. His breathing grew erratic as he was consumed by the inky abyss.
"I DON'T WANT TO DIE, PLE- ACK!" he wailed as the suffocating slime invaded his nostrils and mouth.
Abruptly, Cole shot up from his resting place, tears streaming down his face. Ilia had been by his side the moment he began crying in his sleep. She pulled him into a tight embrace, allowing him to release the emotional turmoil tied to a mysterious woman named Rayla and his persistent self-blame.
Once he had regained his composure, he packed his belongings and continued down the road, with Ilia following in silence. She longed to discuss the events that had transpired but sensed that Cole was lost in his thoughts. Despite her frustration, she remained quiet, hoping for an opportunity for them to open up to one another.
Life has been kicking my ass but I'll try to keep publishing these chapters.
My depression and anxiety has been hell, just became a father, and I have so much going on im forced to limit how often my girl and kid see me it tears my heart apart but it's harder now that she's sick and said kid is without me to help both of them and I hate myself for being so useless and pathetic that weekends and words of comfort are all I can give…..whatever, guess I'll just live life and just try to not have another breakdown.
Geralt and ciri will show up again I promise.
Comment anything you think could be worked on at:
H6pp1n355_in_misery.
Criticism is appreciated