On a clear night, sailors off Vale's coast swore they could see the lights of Port Cyrreine from fifty miles away. The rainbow of hologram advertisements reflected in countless ripples off the city's Southern shore. Beneath the wall of light, a boardwalk. And on it, food vendors, tourists, and couples at each spoke of the slowly-turning ferris wheel. All washed out in a haze of color. All oblivious to the chorus of wailing sirens.
Two airships jetted toward the city, the air in their wake tearing the water's surface.
"Reports on the ground indicate an attack by the Creatures of Grimm," a man's voice scratched through the radio. "I repeat, eyewitnesses are reporting an attack by the Creatures of Grimm!"
"Grimm?!" Another voice repeated. "No way in hell, those things have been gone for, what? Thirty years now? You sure it's not Sentinel's animatronics?"
"We've established contact with Headmaster Skye of Sentinel. He was at the academy's practice grounds when the incident began, and has confirmed all animatronics are in place," a woman reported.
"What do we know so far, then?"
"Just under a hundred port workers were laid off, and replaced with a couple dozen of Frontline's Organic Androids. A peaceful protest turned violent when the Red Claw showed up. Right after that is when reports of Grimm started coming in," the woman replied.
"Griswold Baine has sent his son and a team of Organds to help sort things out on the ground over there. ETA: less than five minutes," the first voice concluded.
The two airships landed on a flat slab of concrete near the docks, lit by the shipyard cranes above. The door to one lifted to reveal a golden-haired warrior. Dozens of silvery white plates covered chest, shoulders, waist, hips, and legs; the edge of each plate gilded with shining trim that shone in resplendent contrast to the black bodysuit beneath. His eyes were obscured by a knight-like visor, with a single light blue band to ensure vision. Behind him, a score of huntsmen. Each one dressed in identical vests with white, black, purple and gold in sharp, measured geometry. On each left breast, the logo of Frontline Biomedical.
"I've been told we already have five confirmed casualties," the man assessed. "All of you. Secure the entrances to each building in a half-mile radius. Search for survivors, and ensure their safety!"
"Yes, sir!" the huntsmen shouted in unison. They began to pour out onto the streets, save three.
"Desmond, Lavender, Nikole! You three are with me!"
"Yes, sir!" a giant man in pale blue armor and two women confirmed.
The street before the huntsmen was a hellscape, far from the peaceful mundanity typical of the city's Western Port district. To each side of the street, flames leapt from shattered windows, dumpsters, and the hollowed-out remains of cars and shipping equipment. Smoke poured into the alleyways, washing the entire area an eerie shade of orange.
The golden-haired warrior held his arm in front of him and tapped his flat silver wristband. An ethereal blue screen popped up to face him and with two fingers upon it, he zoomed in on a map of the area. A yellow marker indicated his position at the water's edge. Several blocks from the marker, a zone was highlighted a bright red.
"Looks like the Red Claw's taken control of a warehouse two blocks Northwest. Our mission is to clear them out, and secure the area. Move out!"
"Midas! Look!" One of the huntsman's allies interjected, pointing ahead.
He raised his head, to the shadowy forms barrelling through smoke. On all fours, they stood nearly his height. Bony spines jutted from wiry arms the color of night, with more down the werewolves' backs. Their hungry snarls and the vicious scratch of claws on pavement were audible above the breaking of glass and crackling of flame.
"Beowolves."
Without a second's hesitation, Midas charged forward with Desmond, Lavender, and Nikole in tow. From his back he pulled a beautiful halberd, taller than he with smooth, organic curves crafted from the same white steel as his armor. He plunged the tip of his weapon into the open jaws of the first beast, and flipped through the air. He flung the unfortunate Grimm backward into a shield bash from Desmond, and brought the axe's head down on the next beast as he landed. A pair of swift spins despatched two more Grimm before he ducked, deflecting the swipe of another across the shaft of his weapon. Lavender, his teammate in purple, pounced with a pair of bladed tonfas.
The team cleared out a handful more Grimm on their march to the warehouse. As Midas approached a corner, he held an arm out, indicating his teammates to stop. "The Red Claw's stronghold is just ahead. Post up here, and defend my flank. I'll be fine alone."
The three filled into the street; Desmond in front, posted with his shield. Nikole and Lavender to his sides. Midas stepped forward. The smoke and uncanny glow of the main street grew more intense as he pressed on. From the fog came the scratching of countless feet, their claws impaling concrete with each heavy step.
A stark white pincer, as big as Midas himself, burst from the smoke. He held his weapon up to block the attack, but was forced backward by the weight of the strike. Another pincer attack was met with his weapon's axehead, and forced into the ground. Two lines of beady red eyes glowed behind the pair of claws, and the creature scuttled out of obscurity. Its body was the length of a school bus, low to the ground and clad in plates of bone armor that would put a tank to shame. The scorpion's tail curled over its body, ending in a glistening gold stinger that could impale two in one strike.
The Deathstalker's screech was just as sharp. Midas spun with the momentum of another blocked claw swipe, and thrust the tip of his halberd into the stinger as it bore down on him. Another screech, and he maintained his grip as the monstrosity wrenched him into the air.
He cracked a grin and the tip of his halberd unfolded, freeing him from the monster. His weapon's shaft separated halfway down and pulled back until he held a bow. Still in mid-air, he pulled back on the string of hard-light dust. The vibrant arcs of electricity crackling around his body became one with the bolt of focused energy forming at his weapon, and he let fly.
The Deathstalker seized with a sudden stiffness as the bolt shattered the armor at the back of its neck, a shockwave rippling through the smoke. The beast's tail uncurled and slammed to the ground next to the huntsman as he landed. It began to dissolve into the night.
The huntsman paused, black eyes beyond his visor fixed ahead. He had only taken two labored breaths before two men leapt into view, blades prepared to kill. He swore, and electricity coursed its way through his halberd just before he raised it to block a vicious overhead axe swing. Static worked its way down his enemy's weapon. The voltage froze the faunus's arms, and Midas freed his weapon. He twirled it around and into the gut of the first, sending him to the ground with a crackling of grey aura. Midas set his feet, once again transforming his weapon back into a bow. He let fly on his second enemy with a point-blank jolt of dust.
The smoke began to clear.
Two dozen feet ahead, a truck had been tipped onto its side to block most of the road. On the edge of the cab sat a bald-headed woman, clad in leather robes of black and white. As her eyes met his visor, a broad, serpentine tail pulled up from behind her, and settled in her lap.
"Red Claw Head!" Midas called. "Who are you working for? He's here, isn't he?!"
"And why would I tell you, prettyboy?" the commander mocked, her tail lashing once. "Although, by the way you asked that, you already know the answer."
A young woman's voice faded in and out. She seemed to want something.
The morning light pouring in the window was far too bright. The plush bedcovers weighed the boy's body down, sinking him deeper into the warmth of his mattress. He groaned and rolled over. Away from the noise.
"Come on, get up. My breakfast is getting cold."
"Go away, Lazula," the boy mumbled, feebly shooing her away. He gathered his pillow in front of his eyes.
"Lilly's gonna be there..." the young woman teased, her voice softening. "Sleep much longer, and you won't be able to shower. You're gonna stink."
Lilly. Lilliane Corvis-Braun. The very image of beauty, kindness, and feminine grace, in his eyes. Sure, they had been friends for the longest time. She probably wouldn't judge him for one morning of questionable hygiene. Then again, no. Look good, feel good. He'd need all the help he could get to feel good on a day like this. He pushed himself upright, shivering as the blankets fell to his waist. He turned to look at his sister with an exaggerated look of bitterness.
Though the two were twins, the boy and Lazula bore far more resemblance to one parent each, than each other. Lazula had inherited her father's strong chin; dark, full brows; and long, straight nose. Her eye color was difficult to discern. Though mostly a green-heavy hazel, transient flecks of just about every color seemed to come and go, by lighting and by the minute. Her electric blue hair, vivid and glossy, was swept to one side in front, tied into a messy low bun in back. Rebellious locks fell to each side of her face, the biggest running down the bridge of her nose. Caspian guessed she had snuck in some early-morning training– especially since the veins of her brawny arms bulged with freshly pumping blood.
Between the boy's soft, kind-looking face, large round eyes of a vivid blue, and button nose, he was quite obviously his mother's child. His coarse but well-kept hair fell in fluffy layers to dark eyebrows in front, and chin level in back. His deep blue roots were visible at the crown of his head, but faded to silver further away. He was leaner. Were he able to compare himself at all to his sister he'd like to think he was built for speed, and her for power. But in truth, she far surpassed him in both.
"Good morning, Caspian. You slept for seven hours and thirty-seven minutes," the automated voice of a woman reported from the headboard. "Would you like to see this morning's top news stories?"
"Yes," Lazula cut in. She nudged her brother as he began to doze off again.
A blue line traced the air six inches above the foot of his bed and a screen grew from it to display an aerial view of a street near the docks. Between the stacks of shipping containers and open flames, three Beowolves and an Ursa ran. "Darkness returns: eight are confirmed dead and fourteen have been wounded in a Port Cyrreine Grimm attack overnight. Authorities confirm this is the first attack by the Creatures of Grimm in twenty-five years," the voice stated. "Vytal Tournament champion Midas Baine was dispatched to the scene with his team and several Organic Androids, but was ultimately unsuccessful in apprehending the woman believed to be behind the attack. It is unclear what allowed for the Grimm to return, but authorities believe a tie to the Red Claw."
"Jeez. Looks like Ichigo was right," Caspian said, putting on the round lens, wire-framed glasses that rested against his bedside lamp. "He told me it was a Grimm attack but I... well, was I supposed to just believe it?"
Lazula sighed. "Looks like this huntsman training will do us some good after all." She stood, and walked to the door of Caspian's room. She rested one hand on the doorknob and turned half around. "We have to pass the entrance exam first. You should start getting ready."
"Of course you'll pass..." Caspian muttered, watching Lazula leave. He switched off the holographic screen, which had changed stories to show a bald, bearded man in a tailored suit giving a speech. After grabbing a bite to eat, throwing a few last-minute items into his suitcase, and grabbing his pre-planned outfit of a blue knit sweater and khakis, he made his way to the shower.
The water scalded his back, but he paid no mind as it drained between his feet. "Today is the day," he thought. He took a deep breath. The Final Entrance Examination. His written scores, apparently, had been on par with the top percentage of Sentinel applicants. He scraped by the physical tests, but today...
Every time he thought about it, it made him feel a little sick.
Caspian turned off the water. One typical morning routine later, and he opened the door, giving himself one last look in the mirror. Yet as he turned to the doorway, he started.
Something– someone was there. His eyes locked with a colorless stare. Not silver, not even a light blue. Her irises were entirely devoid of color. She styled her hair with the same precision she used for anything else, bangs swept across her forehead and tucking under the locks that framed her doll-like face. Her hair in back tapered to a single point at the nape of her neck.
"Oh! Snow. Thank you, for the jumpscare," Caspian said, turning away to grin with embarrassment and hold a hand over his chest.
Though Caspian's heart was one beat from leaping out of his throat, Snow was entirely unperturbed. Her gaze followed him. "Your mother told me to tell you she would like to leave in twenty minutes." Her eyes cast downward, looking to the Holoscreen she projected from the band at her wrist. "This was two minutes ago. Will you be ready in eighteen minutes?"
"Eighteen?" Caspian repeated. He pursed his lips, and grabbed several items from the bathroom counter. "I guess I'll have to be. Oh, if you're here, is Uncle Doug around?" he guessed.
"He's working this morning. He said he will try to attend the Final Examination," Snow said. Her voice was soft, hardly ever carrying much more strength than a whisper. Words followed each other in disengaged monotony.
She turned, beginning to walk down the hall. Caspian admired her combat outfit, which she had already changed into. A snow white vest made of neoprene met her skirt at belt level, on which she holstered the handle of her weapon. The skirt was patterned into the interweaving fractal arms of a snowflake, layers underneath, visible in the gaps between the snowflake's arms, a shade of light blue. She wore a collared shirt of the same shade beneath her vest, the tight sleeves coming down to her wrists. Black socks were the only hint of darkness to her outfit, starting at her knee and feeding into her glossy white boots.
The hum of the airship's engines was all Caspian heard. It was the perfect background noise for his thoughts, all blending together into one monotonous drone. Snow sat beside him, her vacant gaze matching Caspian's out the window. Lazula sat a few rows behind the pair, watching a video from her last tournament, playing and replaying to study each of her moves meticulously.
The city of Port Cyrreine was founded on two peninsulas, jutting out into the ocean like a massive pair of jaws. The Southern peninsula, further from the airship window, held the city's downtown. Closer to the mainland, the skyscrapers tapered off into a maze of dingy mid-rise buildings. The Eastern Docks District. An area of town Caspian intended to avoid.
Two and a half miles the opposite direction, a magnificent structure of black glass and white steel. The dual apexes of Empyrean Tower, one just half the height of the taller, rose halfway to their ship. A golden ring circled the neck of the giant, holding an airship platform a thousand feet above the ground below. Resting on it, a hundred and fifty more feet of spectacular architecture, glass and steel skewering the clouds with a shape that reminded Caspian of a fountain pen's head. A shell of smooth, silvery-white encased the Northern side of the structure, which loomed above the mouth of the bay. Etched upon it in black was "Frontline Biomedical."
Snow's eyes were intent on the building.
The Northern peninsula; the tract of land the airship carrying Caspian, Lazula, and Snow, descended over; was almost entirely residential. Frontline's main hospital sat on the tip, directly North of corporate headquarters.
"Perks of being the Headmaster's kids," Caspian noted, sticking a finger to the window and peering down. "We don't have to sit in that."
Lazula appeared, leaning over Caspian's seat and looking to the city below. Seacrest Bridge, the lone road between the two halves of Port Cyrreine, was packed bumper to bumper.
"Lilly's there, she said she's with Rowan and Ichigo," Lazula said. "Laurel's on her way, but the traffic doesn't look bad from the North. Still, I don't envy whoever's stuck in that mess."
A few minutes passed, and Caspian looked away from the window and into his lap as the airship slowed to a stall. He felt it begin to descend upon a mile-wide cape that stuck into the bay from the city's Northern half. If Port Cyrreine stuck into the bay like a pair of jaws, it would be the one giant tooth.
The campus of Sentinel Academy.
So, that's chapter 1. The info-dumping will let up once I've introduced everyone and all the settings, I promise. But other than that, let me know what you think! I'm super passionate about this story, so I want to make sure it's the best it possibly can be! Follows, favs, reviews, and DMS are all always welcome!
Anyway, this is an OC story, and while it is a sequel to my previous OC series GRAE/Twilight Crusade, I made sure it's independent of the older story. You can definitely catch up with my older series between uploads, but you can read this story without reading the other at all. I've evolved a TON as a writer, especially since the early days of my older series. So if you read it and aren't a fan, you may still like this one!
Also, this story assumes Salem was defeated and the grimm disappeared, but doesn't work with much of the gods/Salem/Ozma lore from Volume 6 onward. I know the future shown in my story will be far different from the actual post-RWBY future, but I couldn't wait to get my story out there