Chapter 7: Bring Down the Rain
"The acquisition of revenge is a hollow victory, for in the journey to reach it, one must hollow themselves out and replace everything with the need to reach that damning goal."
Robin found the strength to stand after Dove ran off, an army of Grimm at his back. He needed to move to help Dove. There was a strange pressure in his chest, and the scent of ozone grew around him; he wasn't able to tell where it was coming from. Almost instinctively, he picked his sword from the ground and sheathed it.
He noticed Cardin and Sky also managing to stumble to their feet not long after he did. His legs began to carry him forward, down the same tunnel that Dove had run down. Only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder from Cardin.
Cardin's voice is strained, wavering. It was the closest Robin had ever seen the other man to crying. "We can't help him; we need to go after Hamelin."
Robin jerked his arm away; he couldn't stop. Not while Dove was still in danger. "We can't even find him anyway. We need to help Dove."
Cardin pointed to the walls of the cave and let out a long, shuddering breath. "Look, there are cables here. They can lead us to Hamelin, and we can shut this place down."
Robin heard the word, but the meaning didn't click. He kept walking towards the tunnel, towards Dove. Until Cardin struck him hard, a backhand across the face, almost strong enough to send him to his knees. The pressure in his chest continued to grow as Cardin spoke. "These Grimm are coming after him because they are fucking with our heads! If we don't stop Hamelin, Dove's not going to have a chance! None of us are!"
Something in Robin's eyes flickered as Cardin spoke. He heard the words, but all he could do was look at him. He went to speak, but his voice hitched. It wasn't the first beginning chokes of a sob. It couldn't be. Robin wouldn't cry. Robin wouldn't allow himself to break now. Because crying meant he had to stand there. He had already been taking too long. The pressure in his chest grew at the idea. In the back of his mind, something clicked finally. Follow the cables, find Hamelin, and put a stop to this.
A few scratchy words finally came out of his throat. "It's your call."
"We have to do it this way," Cardin said. Robin couldn't tell if he was trying to reassure himself or not.
Robin gave a nod and began to walk. Follow the cables, which led down another tunnel, away from Dove, away from the exit to the cave system.
They met the first signs of resistance not long into their trek. Nothing more than a few masked people in robes. The same robes that the man on the stage had worn. Poorly equipped, no stance to speak of. They had seemingly entirely relied upon surprise before.
A bullet plinked off of his aura as he walked toward them. Don't walk, run; time is of the essence. He can't waste a movement on these nobodies. Step forward, grab the weapon to disarm, and punch to disable. Rinse repeat. Sky and Cardin acted with the same brutal efficiency. Not a single wasted movement.
As he moved to disable another cultist, he could have sworn he saw an arc of electricity dance around his fist, but that couldn't be right. It had to be a trick of the light or a product of his increasingly fevered mind, but the way the pressure in his chest grew made him unsure.
This set of guards was dispatched without much fanfare. They didn't have time to be fancy or elegant. But then, a sudden noise from behind brought them to a stop: a howl, distinctly a Beowolf howl.
There were a lot of thoughts a boy could have at a time like this. Having seen the depravity of man working alongside genocidal creatures. Having seen the hell they created, that they left behind in some forgotten corner of Vale. A lot of anger. A lot of sorrow. Rage, maybe.
Robin grit his teeth, and with all the strength his muscles and aura allowed, he gripped the hilt of his sword. There was a noise like boiling water as it escaped from a kettle in the back of his throat. An air noise that couldn't yet become a scream. The pressure, the heat, it was all there, but there was nothing to give it shape or form.
There was one thing he couldn't help but think; he simply couldn't help but notice.
The Grimm were coming here.
Which meant Dove wasn't distracting them anymore. Which meant…
Dove was gone. The pressure in his chest spread to his gut, to his head, and to his arms.
Robin wanted to go home, but home wasn't here. It wasn't anywhere near here. And Dove is gone.
Part of his mind that isn't overwhelmed by the pressure distantly recalled the words said to him just days before he had left. 'Home is the people around me.'
This was the part where a better man would have something to say. A better man would offer something, a justification for the loss. He would have something noble to say. Some point to make.
A better man would be able to express his feelings. Write it in the words of poems and songs. He would describe the lost camaraderie and sorrow and rage in a way that would bring anyone to tears. He would have been coherent. He would have been composed.
Robin was not a better man. He never claimed to be. All Robin can do is feel the heat and pressure within him bellow out as an incoherent scream.
A storm was at its heart, the result of a build-up of pressure. It was an outcry. It was everything he hadn't been able to handle building up. Until the clouds grew too full and, the sky cracked open, and God spilled forth.
And so it was with Robin, the pressure bursting forth from his body, his very soul, and taking on the form of lightning, coursing up and down his body, shooting outward at everything around him, friend or foe.
Cardin and Sky were forced back by the sudden thunderstorm. Robin continued to move forward.
Cardin called out. "Robin! Stop this, you need to focus!"
Robin continued to move down the hall, the words not even registering in his mind.
Despite the danger it presented to himself, Cardin attempted to rush forward. Lightning enwrapped his body as he did so, and he grit his teeth in pain. Sky quickly lurched into action and began to try and pull him away.
"That's my partner! And he's going off to-," Cardin began, genuine anguish in his voice.
"I'm not going to lose another friend today! Robin- He won't listen to us. And we can't follow him. But we can buy him some more time." Sky said. "We have to hold off the horde and trust him."
Cardin paused. "Fucki-fine!"
Robin heard their words; he did, but he didn't understand them. He wasn't capable of thinking. All he knew was that Hamelin was somewhere down the tunnel. He remembered that much, if nothing else.
Robin charged into the tunnel, and the storm followed him.
There were more guardposts in the way, but none which could last against the roiling tumult of fury and destruction that bared down upon them. Lighting coursed through the guards that tried to stop him. The sole one who was lucky enough to survive the storm attempted to confront him directly and was grabbed and beaten until his face was no longer recognizable.
Thunder and lightning and the taste of blood. It's all he knew. It's all he could understand.
Robin wished he was a better man.
But he wasn't. His hands ripped a human being apart, and he felt nothing except for something scratching at the back of his throat.
It took him a moment as the bits of blood splashed over him. The scratching in his throat was his voice.
He was screaming. And as he turned to continue down the tunnel, he didn't care who lived or died. So long as Hamelin ended up a corpse in the end, they could do to him whatever.
-2-
Hamelin realized he might have bitten off a bit more than he could chew with this one. But who could have expected a semblance activation as glorious as that? As he stood in his bunker, watching the approaching storm through the many cameras mounted within the caves.
Half of them in the tunnel leading to the bunker had already gone down.
"Sir," one of his followers spoke, one of the few that still remained. "He's approaching the forward gate. Shall I prepare your escape route?"
He waved off the man, more of a drone, after the work his semblance had done. "That won't be needed; the seals will hold. Eventually, their fear will attract even more of the Grimm. Everyone has a limit, and they will reach theirs." His eyes tracked the path of destruction as another camera blinked out.
"Sir, if he cuts the power-" The drone began, how drool.
"Have faith. This vault is designed to last for four weeks with no power. We are sheltered in the arms of righteousness." A camera blinked out as he finished his sentence. He had long lost track of the other two Huntsmen, but they weren't trouble. He would allow them their tantrums, and then they'd be snuffed out, same as the rest.
"Are you certain, Sir?" The drone questioned. It questioned him. Hamelin gave a mental tug and reinforced the happiness in the drone, but a glint of fear remained in it's eyes.
"Faith is a flame. A righteous thing, capable of bearing against the weight of any storm. And those who are worthy of it may see its light. And those who are full of heresy… who cannot understand the Goddess. Those who cannot see its light. They can instead be burned upon it." He spoke. On the camera, the boy finally reached the gate, and as much as he raged against it, the door held.
Part of him wondered why this had come to pass. It hadn't been the first time he had dealt with Huntsmen, and these were but students. A trial of faith, perhaps?
No, it couldn't be. Not of faith or conviction, he had plenty of that to spare. It was a test of competency. Any man could believe in a higher power, but only Prophets understand the burden of making that power believe in them.
The lights flickered suddenly, and the bunker shook. The camera looking upon the gate had flickered off, undoubtedly disabled by the boy's storm.
"Sir," The drone spoke again. "The bunker's batteries are overcharging. They can't handle the strain."
A boom shook the cave at the follower's words. Followed by the grating sound that signified the gate's mechanisms slowly grinding open. The boy was mighty. Hamelin had to give him that. The lights flickered.
"On second thought, I would like the exit tunnel opened," Hamelin ordered, and the drone nodded.
The drone's fingers clacked across the bunker's console, and a small tunnel slowly began to reveal itself in the center of the bunker. However, just as it began to open, the lights flickered off, and the power did not return this time. Leaving him without a route out.
He was trapped in this bunker now. Faith. Conviction. Competency. It was another incremental failure for him to build a lasting legacy out of. He would survive this. He must.
The door to the bunker burst open with a boom of thunder. Hamelin turned around to face the sinner. Little was visible of the boy himself, as his entire being was wreathed in lightning.
He spoke. "Your feelings… your hatred. The chains upon which you are bound. You are a sinful creature. UNFIT TO LIVE!" His voice rose in pitch. "FALL!"
Hamelin could feel his power soaking into the boy's being, his very soul, and yet… The storm grew. This wasn't supposed to happen.
Apathy? The storm grew.
Anger? The storm grew.
Happiness? The storm receded for the briefest moment and then arced out again with all the more fervor. A bolt struck the drone that had been operating the console, who slumped to the ground.
This couldn't be happening. His mind began to race; he threw every emotion he could dream of—despair, disgust, disappointment, compassion, guilt, shame.
The storm grew.
-3-
Red was the color of blood; it was the color in Robin's eyes. Maybe they were the same thing. He had lost the ability to tell—the ability to process and think.
There was a target, and there were obstacles between him and the target. Now, the obstacles were gone, and it was just the two men in a dark room, a storm barely contained.
In better times, a better man would have realized what he was doing, where he was, and what was happening. He would have forced Hamelin to surrender, and he would have returned to Beacon, hands clean.
Robin was not a better man. The fried nerves in his brain made one single conclusion. Kill Hamelin. Rend flesh from bone.
He stepped forward, and this moment had been the only thing on his mind throughout the entire charge through the cave. The lightning that Hamelin's actions had cursed him with shoots out, all but peeling the aura from the man.
Still, Robin stalked forward. It was clear Hamelin had no combat training, and he had relied on his tricks, minions, and semblance this entire time. The man himself was weak, which only fueled the storm even further.
But the man kept talking. Talk, talk, talk.
"Fire your arrows! Swing your swords! Kill your monsters! But no matter how hard you swing-"
An arc of lightning swept out, catching Hamelin in the leg as he failed to dodge.
"-no matter how high you shoot-"
Another caught him in the arm, his body's muscles automatically retracting as the electricity forced motion.
"-you can never strike a god!"
Robin's hand shot through Hamelin's shoddy defenses. He saw the color of his skin, cheeks, and eyes. And he feels his muscles compress like a pneumatic device meant to crush and destroy.
The man's aura held for a moment, long enough for the panic to begin to show. "Stop, stop! I command you to stop!"
His aura broke, which allowed Robin's fingertips to begin to dig and crush into the man's face, into his skull, the prefrontal cortex.
The commands ceased, and something like acceptance entered his eyes as blood began to leak from his ears. Robin wasn't even sure what emotions were his at the moment.
"Do not think that you have won. Your victory is holl-!"
The body fell to the ground, limp and lifeless. The talking ceased.
Slowly, the storm abated and then dissipated entirely. As Robin had to trek through the path of destruction, he had carved, past barricades and turrets, past his team, who stood amidst the quickly dissipating bodies of Grimm, to the outside. His hands were covered in gore.
It's over, he won, and yet… Robin felt nothing. He had heard that when you kill, you are supposed to feel guilt, shame, and disgust. Instead, he felt a void of nothing. No guilt or shame, no glee. Just a vague sense of huh when he didn't feel anything.
Robin looked up to the sky. The storm, his storm, had quelled for a moment. But rain began to cascade. He felt Cardin come up behind him, sky on his other side.
They all knew that water couldn't cleanse this.
AN: Not much to say here, just uh yeah, wheew. Call out any mistakes, and hope y'all enjoy and have a wonderful day! Also ayy we surpassed a 100 followers on this story on FF, pretty fucking cool.