Chapter 28: Desecrate

The night was pitch-black, but Blake saw everything. She was sitting on top of a utility pole that was connected to a web of power lines snaking over a familiar collection of Atlesian warehouses. But despite her precarious vantage point being over twenty meters up in the air, she looked strangely nonchalant sitting there. However, her outward calm was nothing more than a façade.

Many unpleasant emotions were swirling around inside of Blake. But even so, she felt much more refreshed and alert than she had in weeks. Now that she was no longer High Leader, she'd finally been able to get some proper sleep. And that wasn't the only thing that had changed in the past few days. Blake's hair was cut significantly shorter and was styled into a shoulder-length bob. It had been something she'd been hemming and hawing over doing for a while now, but given what had happened to her recently, she'd felt silly fretting over such a frivolous thing. She'd also ditched her old outfit in favor of a high-necked catsuit that was a very dark shade of purple and a white jacket with long tails. Complementing her new outfit was a brand-new scroll which was resting in her hand.

Wilt and Blush were nowhere to be seen. Blake had never even bothered trying to find where they'd landed after Yang had kicked them off that cliff near Creek Basin Mine. At first, finding Yang herself had been more important. Afterward, Blake had questioned if she even wanted the sword and sheath back. In many ways they were like the scars on her cheek, lingering symbols of her unhappy past. She'd been using them for so long that she'd become numb to what they represented. In the end, Blake had decided to leave them behind. She wondered how long it would take before the harsh climate of northern Atlas would reduce them to nothing more than rusty scrap.

In place of Blush there was a new custom-made scabbard strapped to the small of Blake's back. It held a pair of identical short swords that fit into it horizontally, resting one on top of the other. The swords were fresh off the forge, and Blake had collectively named them Gemini Shroud. They both bore a striking resemblance to Gambol Shroud, a sword that Blake had used years ago, and like Gambol Shroud, they both had pistols incorporated into their hilts. After all, it was only sensible that the swords were also guns. However, unlike Gambol Shroud their transition from pistol to sword was much smoother and more elegant.

Back when Blake had built Gambol Shroud, she'd had to make do with whatever parts she could scrape together. But that had been long before she'd become a generously paid employee of the Schnee Dust Company, albeit one whose employment had been obscured under as many layers of bureaucracy as Weiss could manage. This time Blake had been able to afford top-quality components to build her new swords. She'd also finally realized how ironic it had been that the High Leader of the White Fang had briefly been on the payroll of the Schnee Dust Company.

Blake cast her gaze down at the warehouses below. Her eyes fell on one in particular, the headquarters of the White Fang. It still astounded her how completely her life had changed the night she'd stepped inside that unassuming building to confront Sienna at Ilia's behest. It hadn't even been all that long ago, but it felt like an eternity to Blake. She recalled how much Yang had been against her trying to help Ilia. Yang hadn't really voiced her objections, but Blake had still heard them loud and clear. She wondered if she would've listened to Yang had she known then what she knew now. She supposed it didn't really matter. Realistically there was no way she wouldn't have tried to help Ilia. And after what she'd been through, she wasn't sure if she valued Yang's opinion anymore. At least that's what she told herself, but her heart said otherwise.

A forlorn sigh escaped Blake's lips. She looked away from the warehouse and turned her gaze upward to the night sky. It was a crystal clear night, and the stars above were twinkling in all their splendor. Blake decided it was time for her to stop lying to herself. She was still bitter and angry about what Yang had done to her, but she already missed Yang terribly. Yang was witty, fun, and strong. She was the one person who Blake felt like she could truly be herself around. Yang had never judged her or made assumptions about her, negative or positive, because she was a faunus. With Yang she'd finally felt like a person for the first time in her life. She loved Yang, and perhaps even more remarkably, Yang loved her back. That was what Blake missed more than anything. She'd been in love before, or at least something close enough to it, and she'd seen genuine love for her shining in other people's eyes. But she'd never connected with anyone like she'd connected with Yang. To be in love with someone who was in love with her was indescribably beautiful. It was just a shame that Blake also despised Yang right now.

Blake's entire body tensed as unwelcome memories of Yang attacking her on top of that snow-covered plateau flashed in her mind. For a moment, she even saw Adam standing in Yang's place. She saw flames burning around her and Adam's sword slashing at her face juxtaposed with a raging winter storm and Yang's fist rushing toward her. She felt her cheek throb like the cuts from Adam's sword were still fresh. She felt her heart crumble to bits all over again as she heard Yang's treacherous words. They were two different pains that mixed together until they were one and the same.

Blake gasped and shook her head to try to banish her intrusive thoughts. Despite how she felt, she knew Yang was not Adam. Adam had attacked her because she'd stood in the way of his ambition. Yang had been trying to save her, after a fashion. As much as Blake hated what Yang had done, she acknowledged why Yang had thought she'd needed to do it. Maybe it had even been the right thing to do. Blake didn't know.

Blake's eyes fell back down to the warehouse below. Maybe Yang wasn't to blame. Maybe everything that had happened was the White Fang's fault. Maybe it was the world's fault for persecuting the faunus and inadvertently creating the White Fang in the first place. However, Blake felt that line of thinking was about as useful as raising her fist to the heavens and cursing any of the various gods that people claimed existed. It would get her nowhere.

The facts of the matter were clear to Blake, for what little her feelings cared about facts. She'd tried to save the White Fang. She'd failed. Maybe she'd always been destined to fail. Maybe if she'd pushed a little harder she could've succeeded. Maybe if she'd acted sooner against Yuma, or been every inch the tyrant that Sienna had been, things would've worked out. Sadly, none of that matter now. Blake finally understood that the White Fang as it was now could not be saved. The only thing left she could do was to make sure they would never hurt anyone else ever again, and she intended to do just that. In fact, the wheels were already in motion. It was already too late for anyone to stop what was about to happen.

The scroll in Blake's hand suddenly buzzed. Blake had actually forgotten she was holding it. She lifted it up and took a look at the screen which was displaying a long chain of messages.

Me:
Ilia. You need to get out.

Ilia:
Who's this? What do you want?

Me:
It's Blake.

Ilia:
Blake? How? Are you alright? Where are you?

Me:
You have to leave the warehouse right now. You can't save anyone else. Save yourself.

Ilia:
What?
What do you mean?
What did you do?
Blake what did you do?

An answer came to Ilia's question in the form of a choir of sirens rising up off in the distance. They were soft at first, but they quickly grew louder. Blake looked in the direction the sirens were coming from and saw a swarm of red and blue flashing lights. They were coming her way. Or rather, they were coming for the White Fang.

Blake typed out one last message to Ilia.

Me:
Better hurry. You're out of time.

Blake returned her scroll to her pocket. Then she stood, easily balancing on top of the utility pole. She looked down as a fleet of police vehicles appeared on the street ahead of her. They were rapidly approaching the warehouse.

When Blake had first called the police to tip them off about the White Fang they hadn't taken her seriously. But once she'd finally convinced them of who she was, all that had changed in a heartbeat. They'd eagerly lapped up everything she'd told them, and she'd told them everything from the warehouse's location to what kind of resistance to expect. It hadn't taken them long at all to put a task force together as evidenced by what was happening right now. It was funny, if that was the word for it, how many times Blake had witnessed the police or organizations like them hesitate to protect the weak. But when faced with the perceived enemies of the established social hierarchy, they leaped into action with all the eagerness of frenzied guard dogs.

The swarm of police vehicles had finally drawn near. Various cars and vans zoomed down the street below Blake. They quickly surrounded the White Fang's warehouse headquarters. Officers in tactical gear poured out of vans. Regular uniformed police took up positions next to their cars. Then, as if on cue, several small police airships suddenly screamed onto the scene from above. They began hovering over the warehouse and pointed blinding spotlights down onto it.

A deep, authoritative voice rang out over a megaphone. "Members of the White Fang! You are hereby placed under arrest for crimes committed against the people of Atlas and for perpetrating acts of terrorism! Surrender now and no harm will come to you! Repeat. Surrender now and—!"

The megaphone promptly cut off as a shot rang out, crisp and clear in the night. Blake couldn't say who had fired the shot, but it didn't really matter. Pandemonium erupted all around the warehouse, accompanied by a cacophony of noise. More shots were fired, and armored officers charged into the building.

Blake dispassionately watched as the authorities who she'd fought against her entire life began to dismantled the organization that had once been her home, her family, and her hope. It was what she'd intended, but this wasn't a victory. It wasn't a defeat either. It was simply entropy in action. Blake could only hope that whatever would arise from the ashes of the White Fang would be better than what had come before.

Flashes of gunfire reflected off of Blake's face, but she didn't react to it at all. However, something out of place caught her eye. Past the ring of police officers surrounding the building, Blake spotted two shadowy figures sneaking down the unlit streets. One was dressed in a dark cloak complete with hood. The other simply appeared to have ebony skin.

The figures paused, and they both glanced back at the chaos unfolding behind them. Then one of them, the one with jet-black skin, looked up. Their eyes fell on Blake. The figure's skin shifted in hue until it became a pink, human-like tone. Blake finally recognized the figure as Ilia. Ilia's companion looked up as well, revealing her white hair, sheep-like ears, and fearful expression. It was Fiona.

Ilia stared Blake down. Even across the distance Blake could see the raw hatred burning in Ilia's eyes. It cut Blake deeply. It would have hurt far less if Ilia had instead somehow managed to climb up the pole Blake was standing on and slap her across the face. But as bad as Blake felt, she still didn't regret what she'd done. Perhaps the regret would come later. She wondered if that was also how Yang felt about the things she'd done.

An explosion suddenly rocked the night. Blake's head swung back toward the warehouse in time for her to see a fireball shooting out of a fresh hole that had been blown in the warehouse's roof. But Blake wasn't concerned about the warehouse at the moment. She immediately turned back to where Ilia and Fiona had been standing, but they were gone. They'd vanished without a trace.

Sorrow hit Blake hard enough that she had to briefly fight to maintain her balance on top of the utility pole. Ilia's hatred had hurt, but not nearly as much as her absence. For the first time tonight Blake felt like she'd truly lost something. She'd never been able to return Ilia's feelings for her, but she'd always deeply treasured Ilia's friendship. Now she feared that friendship was gone forever.

Blake reluctantly turned back toward the warehouse. Many of her once brothers and sisters were already being hauled away in restraints now, but that didn't mean the scene was any less chaotic. The explosion had forced some of the police airships to move out of position, and they were jockeying around each other in the air, trying to avoid a collision. That was when Blake spotted another unexpected sight. There was a new figure slipping through the police blockade. But unlike Ilia and Fiona, this one was flying through the air on a pair of leathery wings. Blake knew it had to be Yuma.

Blake's eyes narrowed as she watched Yuma flap his bat-like wings as hard as he could. He wasn't a graceful flyer—no faunus with the extremely rare trait of wings was—but with the police airships and their crews distracted, it looked like he was going to get away. Blake hadn't intended to get involved in the police assault on the White Fang. Seeing Yuma instantly changed her mind.

Yuma wasn't flying all that high. He was maybe halfway in between the height of the warehouse's roof and the power lines supported by the pole Blake was standing on, but he was moving away from Blake. Blake hopped off the top of her perch and deftly landed on the power lines themselves. She took off running down the thick cables, quickly closing the distance between her and Yuma from above. She reached back and drew both of her new swords. Their blades folded back into the shape of sickles, revealing their gun barrels.

Blake leaped off the power line and plunged straight for Yuma. She took aim with Gemini Shroud as she fell and squeezed both triggers. The twin barrels lit up as Blake fired off a rapid barrage at Yuma. His aura shimmered as bullets rained down on him. He jerked unsteadily in the air, probably from alarm, but before he could do anything else, Blake thrust her foot forward and delivered a gravity-assisted kick into his back.

Yuma let out a shriek as Blake's foot collided with his body. His wings faltered, and he and Blake started plummeting toward the ground together. Yuma grabbed at Blake, trying to wrestle for control, but Blake easily slipped out of his grasp. Just before they both slammed into the street, Blake pressed her feet against Yuma and kicked off of him, smashing him into the hard asphalt with even more force than the fall alone could have mustered.

There was a loud crack and a bright flash from Yuma's aura as his body crashed into the street. Blake had managed to somersault away from him, and she easily landed on her feet. Gemini Shroud's blades folded up again, turning them back into swords.

Yuma groaned in pain on the ground. He looked disoriented for a moment, but then he shook his head. He pushed himself back to his feet, and the very second his eyes landed on Blake they lit up with rage. Quick as a flash, he drew his dagger from off his thigh and shouted, "You! I knew there was no way you were dead! You did this! Didn't you!?"

"No, Yuma," Blake said. "You did this."

Yuma let out an angry roar and charged for Blake. He swiped at her wildly with his dagger only for its blade to pass clean through a clone that she'd left behind. The clone vanished right before Yuma's eyes, and the real Blake suddenly appeared behind him. She slashed at Yuma's back with one of her swords. Then she spun and hit him with the other.

Yuma stumbled forward as his aura flickered over his body. He quickly caught himself, turned on his heals, and lunged for Blake. However, Blake easily sidestepped his clumsy attempt to stab her. She ducked low, and the blade of the sword in her right hand folded back again. She hooked the sword, now sickle, around Yuma's ankle. One sharp tug sent Yuma's foot flying out from under him. He immediately began to topple over. However, as he fell, Blake's knee shot up and collided with his head.

A cry erupted from Yuma as he went arcing backward. His back hit the asphalt with a bone-jarring crunch, and his dagger went flying out of his hand. The weapon skittered across the street away from him, and his aura flickered one last time before it collapsed completely.

Yuma lay there stock-still for several seconds. Blake wondered if he'd been knocked unconscious. But then he quietly groaned again. He slowly rolled himself onto his belly and lifted his head. He looked dazed and confused at first, but then his eyes found Blake. He quickly came to his senses, and looked at her with such potent fury that he might as well have been trying to light her on fire with his mind.

Blake slowly walked toward Yuma, her heels clicking on the asphalt.

Yuma angrily asked, "Do you really think the humans will reward you for this? You'll never be anything more to them than an animal!"

Blake stopped directly in front of Yuma. She said, "This was never about the humans, Yuma. Not what I did. Not what you did. None of it. You just wanted an excuse to be the monster you really are."

"Monster? Monster!" Yuma spat out. "I'll show you what a monster is! You should have stayed away! Left well enough alone! Now I'll never stop hunting you! I'll never stop until you're dead! UNTIL YOU'RE—!"

Blake delivered a sharp kick to the side of Yuma's head. Yuma let out a surprised sounding grunt as his head painfully jerked to the side. Then he collapsed to the street. Like that, it was over.

The sword in Blake's right hand unfolded again. Then she slid both weapons into the sheath on her back. She stared at Yuma's unconscious form. She envied his ability to see the world as a place of simple truths. It reminded her of when she'd been a child. Back then it had been easy for her to think that all her problems were caused by the humans too. In her mind they'd been a monolithic oppressor, but they'd also been an enemy that could someday be defeated. Unfortunately, the real world wasn't so convenient.

Blake tucked the toe of her boot under Yuma's body and used her foot to roll him over onto his back. Then she reached down and grabbed a handful of his jumpsuit. She started dragging him back toward the police cordon around the now former headquarters of the White Fang. She homed in on a young-looking police officer who was holding position behind her car. The officer had a pistol in her hand, but it was noticeably shaking. Judging by her age alone, Blake guessed she hadn't been with the police for very long. She was clearly overwhelmed by what was unfolding in front of her.

Blake drew in closer. Then she said, "Officer."

The uniformed woman spun around and looked at Blake with alarm in her eyes.

"You missed one," Blake said. She made a show of letting go of the unconscious Yuma. His body flopped onto the street.

The officer leveled her pistol at Blake. She nervously shouted, "F-freeze!"

Blake didn't listen to the officer. She just turned around and started walking away.

"I said freeze!" the officer shouted again.

Blake didn't stop.

Suddenly, a shot rang out, and Blake staggered forward as a bullet deflected off her aura. She glanced over her shoulder and gave the young police officer a look that could've stripped the paint off her car.

The police officer slowly lowered her gun.

Blake started walking again. With each step she moved further and further away from what was left of the White Fang. There was no going back to the way things had been. But now she wondered if that meant there was finally time for her to ask how she wanted things to be. If she'd had a choice, what kind of life would she have picked for herself? What kind of world did she want to live in?

Thoughts of Yang, both beautiful and ugly, filled Blake's head as she vanished into the night.

Author's Note: Push Yang too far? You get beat up. Push Weiss too far? Bad things happen to you and possibly your friends too. Push Blake too far? This. Perhaps it's a good thing she has a natural inclination to run from trouble.

(Push Ruby too far? You're a monster who deserves whatever Yang and/or Weiss does to you. Looking at you, Jaune.)

Nothing in this chapter was in my original outline for this story. Blake taking down the White Fang? Unexpected. Blake getting new weapons? Unexpected. I'm really glad I wrote this chapter though. I think it gives a lot of closure to things that would have otherwise gone unresolved.

Blake's in her Volume 7 outfit now in case you couldn't tell. While I generally think the Volume 4 outfits are superior to the Volume 7 ones, they've all grown on me over time.

As always, I welcome constructive criticism. Please feel free to leave a review. And if you like what you've read, taking the time to favorite and/or follow really helps me out. You can also find me on tumblr (electronicyarn) if you want to send me a message or be notified of updates.