Happy New Year y'all! Hello again to long-time viewers and supporters, I hope I haven't kept you waiting for too long (Cough cough over three months cough cough) but rest assured, I have not forgotten about my magnum opus! We're only a couple of chapters away from the Vol 3. finale and I really wanna make that push for you guys. My job, studying and writer's block had made it hell trying to get back into this story for some reason, but thanks to my other mor recent fic 'Remnant's Serrated Sun' (if you're a Warhammer and most especially an Argel Tal fan, do check it out!) really helped me get back into the swing of things, at least for now. So for now, enough yapping on my end and let's go!


Fighting Rose

Chapter 42

Knee-deep in the dead


When Ozpin realized that Cinder had taken them to the Reception of his tower, he knew exactly what she was going for and lashed out with his cane. Cinder was prepared and weaved under the blow to slam her palm into his chest, a burst of flame scorching his green suit and sending him skidding backwards.

"…Why?" Ozpin asked, gripping his cane and preparing himself. "Why do this?"

Cinder was silent for a few moments, looking down at her feet and lightly biting her lip, as if trying to find the correct words. Satisfied, she looked up at Ozpin as she held the Athame dagger in one hand and summoned a crackling obsidian-glass scimitar in the other.

"Nothing personal," She said calmly, "It's just revenge."

Cinder was suddenly beside him in a burst of smoke, Ozpin yanking his head out of the way as she thrust the Athame at his neck, sharply pivoting and parrying her follow-up curving slash aimed to gut him from navel to neck. Her flurry of attacks were fast, powerful and graceful, her body never in the same position twice as she constantly stayed on the move, weaving and winding footwork pressuring Ozpin further and further backwards towards the elevator. He set his feet and grunted as he put more power into a simple downward cut, Cinder almost yelping as she felt the sheer weight behind the strike crash clean through her conjured blade even as she blocked. The shock almost cost Cinder her life as she looked at Ozpin and saw the sheer determination on his face to end her life: pale blue sparks crackled across his free hand before he threw it forward, Cinder diving out of the way while instinctively blocking her face with the flat of the Athame as a bolt of lightning blasted from his palm and bounced off her dagger, ricocheting right through a wall while Cinder herself was flung into the air from the raw force behind the attack.

She never got to land as he outstretched hand made a grasping motion, her fall frozen as her body was outlined in a faint pale-green light before he sharply pointed at the floor, Cinder's body shooting straight down. Cinder clenched her fist and the light surrounding her shattered, her fall sharply slowing as jets of flame flew from her palm and feet. He was upon her even before she could fully regain her balance, murder in his eyes as he brought his cane down towards her neck, and for a moment, Cinder saw it: his cane seemed to blur and shift before the faintest outline of a flaming sword surrounded it. If she was hit by that, she would die.

The Athame cut through the floor where she stood, Cinder falling into it and barely avoiding being decapitated before she popped out of a rip in reality from behind, slashing at his neck and severing his carotid artery. Ozpin gasped and stumbled at the wound, Cinder gritting her teeth as she drew upon the warp hard and flung her arm up, a pillar of screaming flame engulfing the Headmaster of Beacon and burning him to ash –

A charred fist smashed through her psychic shielding and into her mouth, blood flying as her lip was ripped open and her brain bouncing in her skull as she crashed into guest-chairs by a wall. She recovered quickly, rolling to her feet and deflecting the three bolts of lightning that were fired at her with a sorcery-reinforced hand and her dagger. The room went quiet in a silent standoff, Cinder taking the time to observe Ozpin. Skin scorched and blackened by her flame was almost entirely healed, the lethal cut she'd left on his artery already gone. Shimmering faintly over his face was the outline of some kind of mask or helmet, one that she could barely see was designed with a figure standing upright, its outstretched arms baring slits for the wearer to see through.

'The Relic of Choice…' She realized, 'No wonder this incarnation of him has lasted this long: he's been wearing the Relic the entire time: the Mask of Life!'

"…I think we both know," She said softly, "Even with that sword and the Relic… you won't be able to stop me. You used up most of your power to seal away the bulk of Chaos to the West."

"Perhaps," he agreed, "…I won't be able to stop you."

He slashed the air to his sides, flaming cuts now suspended next to his shoulders. The hair on the back of her neck rose as massive arms and hands seemingly made of molten chrome pried their way out of the rents in reality, powerful muscles clenched in preparation to defend their summoner.

"If you want that power so badly, you'll have to go through me," Ozpin said gravely, "And if you want the Relic… you'll have to pry it off my dead body."

"Challenge accepted," Cinder nodded with a little smile as the two of them sprinted at each other.

}-{

Jaune almost vomited after he cut down the last person who had just attempted to gouge his eyes out with their crooked hands. His hands were shaking as he tried to fling the blood from his sword: this is not what he'd signed up for, or what anyone in Beacon had signed up for. He wanted to look up, to see if there was any sign of life from the floating arena, but that would mean looking up into the fracture in the sky, and he wasn't keen on going insane.

"Keep it in your guts Jauney-boy!" Roman Torchwick chuckled hollowly, "We're gonna need all the strength we can muster, and that includes your lunch."

Torchwick was promptly prodded in the ribs by Neo, the latter flicking the blood from her needle-like estoc with practiced ease. Having been on Beacon's grounds, all he'd heard was an eerie silence broken by a torrent of screaming, and the sky over Amity and Vale cracking open. The innocent people around him had succumbed to the violet light that spilled through before their bodies contorted in nightmarish forms and twisted beings tore their way through reality to attack him. He was lucky that Neo and Roman were around (not something he'd ever thought he'd admit), but it was their friend that unnerved him.

A very effeminate looking young man with teal eyes silently surveyed the situation. What was unnerving about him was that he wasn't in a state of shock panic or fear, that unsettling sensation growing in Jaune as he watched the young man look directly at the fracture in the sky, staring at it while clenching his jaw.

"…today was supposed to be a day of freedom." said Venti, his voice tight.

"Yeah, well evidently fucking not," Jaune muttered under his breath, only to flinch as Venti turned to look at him: his teal eyes and the tips of his hair were glowing, Neo and Torchwick startled as well. The gentle, forest-green glow of aura lined Venti's body before he held out his hand and a beautifully designed bow appeared in his palm, artfully crafted from shining gold while the many strings and the wings on the top and bottom appeared to be made out of pure teal light.

"You're right," Venti agreed with Jaune, his voice soft yet infinitely weighty with power, "We must change that."

Jaune's gaze snapped back forward as the air in front of them wavered, rips in reality opening up as over thirty humans, not monsters, stepped out. Dressed in blood-spatter red and jet-black combat clothes decorated with an eight-pointed star, they were armed to the teeth with serrated blades, dust-rifles and even a few chain-weapons revving in their ranks. They were not here to help.

"KILL THE GODLING!" The leader roared, "FOR THE BLACK QUEEN: FOR THE GLORY OF CHAOS!"

"FOR THE GLORY OF CHAOS!" The heretic troopers chanted.

Venti's hand moved faster than anyone could react, three arrows made of teal light appearing out of nowhere as he drew them and released. They pierced through the ranks of the Traitor-militia in a fountain of blood and body parts before exploding in a burst of teal light and air, decimating their ranks. Venti blasted into them, his bow turning into a blade with similar design features and composition before he easily tore apart whatever was in front of him in a blur of motion.

Even then, a dozen of the heretic soldiers had managed to charge forward fast enough to close the distance between them, forcing Jaune and the others to defend themselves. Jaune's shield-arm groaned as a heretic pressed his own jagged sword down on his guard, metal on metal screeching and making his arm shake as he was further pushed back by the wielder's manic strength. His training kicked in and his body moved on its own, slanting his shield and letting the sword slide down off it before he pivoted and thrust Crocea into his attacker's unguarded neck. He froze as the blade punch through the heretic's throat and slid out the other side with ease, hot blood and dying gurgles flowing from the wound.

'No. Don't focus on that. Right side.'

He tore the blade free and parried a bayonet thrust aimed for his face, stepping in and punching the edge of his shield into the attackers face hard enough to shatter teeth, stunning them long enough for Jaune to decapitate them in a single stroke.

'Don't throw up don't throw up don't throw up.'

His shield came up to block a tight burst of gunfire aimed at his head, rapidly being forced backwards as his new opponent came at him with a chainsword, swiping at him with fast and heavy blows that, combined with the sheer momentum of the chain-teeth, threatened to yank his shield out of the way and leave him exposed.

"Death to the false kingdoms!" The heretic snarled as he gripped the blade with both hands and slammed it down with an overhead chop, the sheer power behind the blow forcing Jaune to a knee instantly, a vicious knee hammering into Jaune's nose and sending him sprawling. He recovered quickly and rolled to his feet, lashing out with a thrust aimed at the heretic's neck yet foiled by a well-timed parry from the latter, though Jaune sharply followed up with an upward cut that bit into the man's sword-arm, the latter's aura sparking on impact.

Probing strikes and a prolonged fight wouldn't do. Jaune forced down his revulsion, his hesitation, his fear, and replaced it with frantic fury. He took the chainsword's slash to his chest, snarling in pain as the teeth chewed away at his aura while he smashed his forehead into the cultist's teeth, amplifying his own aura to further boost his strength. The cultist's teeth shattered and he stumbled back, gurgling in a mix of pain and rage as he attacked back with even greater ferocity, raising his chainsword high above his head to bring it down on Jaune's exposed cranium. Jaune leaned far back, seemingly not far back enough to prevent himself from being gored as the cultist roared in triumph –

Jaune's blade pierced through the cultist's mouth and severed the spinal cord, a primal scream leaving Jaune's mouth as he leaned in and yanked the blade to the side, through the cultist's neck in a smooth killing stroke. He looked up just in time to see another Cultist lunging at him with a serrated knife, knocking him down with a brutal shoulder slam.

"USHKOL THU-!" She screamed, only to have Neo's estoc pierce her throat and snuff out the mad light in her eyes. Blood spattered Jaune's face as he flinched, but he saw Neo's outstretched hand and took it.

'She's really strong for someone so small,' He thought idly. He already knew that of course, but anything to keep his mind off the corpses littering the ground.

"…Anyone else smell that?" Torchwick muttered, nose wrinkling in disgust.

Jaune smelled it too and almost gagged. He forced himself to look at the bodies again and twitched: they were already rotting, flies seemingly appearing out of nowhere and hovering around them.

"…no," Venti breathed before he sharply clapped, a burst of wind washing away the noxious fumes and forming a barrier made of pure wind around the area, though intentionally leaving Jaune, Neo and Torchwick outside of its radius. "Get out of here and reunite with your friends, this one is too much for you!"

The bodies were suddenly pulled together, yanked as if by a string, twisted and contorted into the crude shape of three circles and three arrows as they began to glow a sickly green. A moment later, a massive, rust-covered scythe burst through the mass of light, heavy metal footsteps shaking the floor as a figure stepped through. Clad in a massive suit of bloated, putrid green armour baring layered curving pauldrons, the 'man' was easily over eight feet tall, sickly purple eyes shining from his Y-slitted helmet, a single rusty horn curving upward from its forehead menacingly. Bone funnels sprout up from the armour's power-pack, and what at first looked like great plumes of smoke heaving from the funnels turned out to be an ever-writhing cloud of flies.

Jaune knew what that armour was and knew that it belonged to an Astartes. He knew of it from the bedtime stories is father told him, hulking suits of master-crafted, nigh-unbreakable armour, this particular pattern of suit named after an ancient unit of armoured calvary, the Cataphractii Terminator Suit. Worse yet, the figure wearing it perfectly matched the description of one of the many villains in his father's stories, a scythe-wielding, iron-horned warrior whose purpose was to spread plague and rotting life in the name of his God.

Herald of the Plague

Typhus the Traveller

"It would seem that Grandfather has use of me here," Typhus mused, his voice gravelly with phlegm and buzzing with flies. "I wonder if Abaddon is on his way as well…"

His armour creaked and groaned as he took in his surroundings, the flies forming a writhing, flowing cloak from his overlapping shoulder-plates. Violet eyes narrowed and he unleashed a violent burst of sound from his helmet, sickly green mist shooting from the cracks as Typhus laid eyes on Venti. Jaune took a moment to realize that he snorted.

"Ah. The 'Old God' of these lands," He rumbled, "I was wondering why the air felt so unholy, tainted by such a lesser being's filth."

"You're not at all qualified to talk about unholy air, and a phrase comes to mind about pots and kettles on the topic of filth." Venti smirked, the smile never reaching his eyes, "Your corpulence has had the unfortunate affect of spoiling the winds here even further, an achievement only possible by the likes of you and others who've fallen under the influence of that fetid tumour you call a 'God' for whatever reason."

The cloak of flies seemed to writhe and twitch, their droning somehow becoming louder and angrier as Typhus's armour creaked, his gauntleted fingers digging into the shaft of his scythe.

"…Grandmother Nurgle will be pleased when I offer your insolent head to be tossed into her cauldron."

The fight began in the blink on an eye, Venti's weapon changing into the magnificent golden bow to unleash a trio of light-wind arrows, Typhus throwing his cloak of flies up to devour the arrows before they even reached him. Venti rocketed in, switching to his arming-sword and slashing through the cloak to stab at Typhus's head, the latter catching the sword in the crook of his scythe's own blade. With surprising speed Typhus parried and slashed up at Venti's chin, looking to impale him through the head with eh scythe's point only for Venti to have already disengaged. He was not safe however, as Typhus laughed wetly, throwing an arm forward and the cloak of flies following as if it were an actual cloak, the flies at the very edge of it grazing against Venti's arm and chewing a bloody, ragged line. Venti didn't even flinch as the wound healed in a matter of moments, all while he switched back to his bow and rained arrow after arrow down on Typhus, however useless it seemed.

"GO!" He shouted to the group, "I can handle this!"

They didn't need to be told twice, though when Neo looked over her shoulder, she couldn't help but feel a little relieved when Venti caught her gaze and winked.

}-{

Despite only being a handful of minutes, the airship ride down was incredibly tense, though not entirely silent. Most people gave Team RWBY a wide berth, largely on account of Yang's transformation. She stood with her back turned to the rest of the students, occasionally looking over her shoulder to stare at them, never acting in outright aggression but always tense before turning back to face the still bodies of Ruby and Sun. She let out snuffling growls and whines, tears turning into steam the moment they touched her skin as she waved her hands over them, seemingly terrified of laying a finger on them. Weiss was shaking as she used her Glyphs to slowly pull and reset Sun and Ruby's bones back into place, trickling her aura into their most grievous wounds as Blake dealt with the smaller ones. Sun was thankfully in noticeably better condition, no thanks to Artoria's scabbard and its healing properties, though she didn't have time to tend to Ruby.

"…Weiss," Blake said softly, her heart twisting at the heiress's terrified flinch, "They're stable for now. I can take over from here."

Weiss looked up at Blake, the worry clear on her face.

"They're alive," Blake said as she gently held Weiss's trembling hand, "You did good."

Weiss slowly, shakily nodded, scooting back and staring at Ruby and Sun. Yang walked over to her and crouched next to the sitting Weiss, the two of them staring each other in the eyes. Weiss wasn't afraid of Yang; the vision from the Bloodletter's blade was by and far more terrifying, but it was clear that Yang wasn't attempting to scare her anyway. Yang's hand slowly came up, everyone save Blake and Weiss tensing before she gently placed her hand on Weiss's shoulder. Weiss's face trembled before she leaned into Yang's warmth, tears running down her face as Yang reciprocated the embrace while they silently stared at the still bodies of their friends. The sight of Yang hugging Weiss, however demonic she looked, was enough to partially bring the tension down.

Golden light and crimson lightning occasionally flashed from outside, the faint shouts of Artoria and Mordred heard from outside as they fended off any flying threats that slipped past the Atlan Jets, and nothing had passed through their defences so far. Blake noticed that the rip in reality actually covered the Sun, and despite the initial light from the rift, the entirety of Vale was smothered with an artificial night: a perversion of an Eclipse.

'At least there's a little hope,' Blake thought hollowly as she looked at Ruby. The fact that the girl was breathing at all was a miracle, given that her lungs were punctured by her own broken ribs. Her skin was a mass of bruises, face still caked in her own drying blood. Most worrying was how slowly Ruby was healing. Blake could feel Ruby's aura sputtering from her mangled auric circuits, trying to flow out and heal the damage only to stop as a foreign, sinister aura coiled and twisted around Ruby's circuits, strangling the flow of her aura and preventing her circuits from naturally recovering.

'What was that technique Mercury hit her with…?' She thought, her lips pursed tightly. She'd seen horrible and gruesome injuries even before she'd come to Beacon, but a technique that was specifically designed to cripple aura-users? This was cruel. Evil.

"I wonder if I could…" She muttered, about to try and use her aura to dispel Mercury's, only for Sun's hand to shoot up and grab her wrist. "Sun!?"

All eyes were on him as Sun coughed, gummy blood and spit on his teeth as he dragged himself into sitting up.

"Don't," He said hoarsely, "You do that… his aura will fight back… and use Ruby's body as a battlefield. She's in… no condition."

He coughed and Pyrrha was quick to bring him water, though Blake couldn't help but notice the way she flinched as Sun grabbed it. He numbly swallowed a mouthful and breathed out a small sigh of relief, looking at Pyrrha and nodding a thanks. She seemed to relax at that, silently nodding back.

"Sun," Blake regained his attention, "Do you think Miss Arc's scabbard can undo the damage done to Ruby?"

"…Maybe," He croaked, "It got my aura under control, so it's definitely possible… but it'd take too long."

"Damn…" Blake ground her teeth. Artoria was a powerhouse and was needed everywhere where major threats popped up, as much as she'd might want to help Ruby.

"I have…" Sun wheezed, "I have something… from my gramps. In my room. He said only to…" He coughed again and had to take another shaky sip of water. "To take it or give it so someone if they're on the verge of dying."

"You're saying it can heal Ruby?" Blake said, sceptical but hopeful. However strange it may have seemed, she was willing to cling to anything at this point.

"Yeah…" He nodded, "I can vouch for it… seen it heal entire lost limbs and organs in an instant."

"Then we have an objective," Weiss spoke up. There was a hard glint in her eyes, one that pushed down and bottled up her fears to focus on what was happening here and now. "We'll most likely be landing at the usual airship ports, and Sun's room is in the western section of the campus. Given that there's probably hostiles down there, we'll have to fight our way through."

Yang snarled, flame firing from her nostrils as she snorted and nodded. Blake checked her ammunition as Pyrrha did the same before sending a message on her Scroll.

"You're joining us Pyrrha?" Blake asked, surprised.

"Of course," She replied simply, "I've informed Jaune of the plan, he's going to grab Nora and Ren before meeting up and helping us."

"…The CCT still works?" Weiss asked, surprised.

"Yes, why would - ?" Pyrrha started before confusion dawned on her face, "…That's… a good point. Why is it still working? On an attack of this scale, destroying our communications would be one of the first goals that they'd go after."

"I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth," Sun said, his voice stronger as his eyes flashed yellow, "Ruby isn't dead, and something like this won't keep her down, but we'll need every advantage we can get."

"Right," Blake nodded, taking a quick look out the window, "We're almost at the docks, another minute at most. It's…" She looked closer and bit her lip, "It's a warzone out there."

"It changes nothing," Sun said gruffly as he stood, his strength steadily returning to him as his aura began to pop and flare off his skin. Yang stood next to him, both of them facing the doors to the airship as they felt the landing-gear deploy under their feet followed by the slight jolt of the airship landing. Pyrrha's sword and shield were in her hands, Blake unsheathing Gambol and Weiss sliding Myrtenaster's chamber back into place as she gently placed Ruby on top of a Glyph.

"You're right," Weiss agreed as she gripped her rapier tightly. "Let's get this done."

The moment the doors opened, an Astartes in black and gold-trim armour with two roaring turbine engines strapped to his back flew over the defensive line of Atlan Troops with a taloned gauntlet on one hand and a rune-marked greatspear in the other, rocketing through the air and right towards the open doors.

"IN EIGHTY MINUTES, THIS KINGDOM SHALL FALL!" He roared, "I CLAIM THIS GROUND IN THE NAME OF THE DESPOILER!"

}-{

'The more things change,' Ren though with grit teeth as he ducked under the swing of a Bloodletter's blade and fired a burst of rounds into its face to no effect, cartwheeling away as it aimed to disembowel him. 'The more they stay the same.'

He sidestepped and switched his Semblance on, his body turning dull grey as the daemon blinked in confusion before Ren stabbed at its temple with his bayonet. Its arm moved on its own, blocking Ren's stab with the flat of its blade and shattering the bayonet before its eyes locked on to Ren's, the latter's eyes going wide as he barely backed away from a strike that could have decapitated him. He grunted in pain as he crashed into one of the last untouched tables, plates and cutlery flying into the air as he rolled over it, the daemon's blade cleaving through the table in a shower of splinters an instant later.

The diner that had been set up on Beacon's grounds was a mess, littered with dead bodies that had been either changed by the Grimm and daemons bursting out from within them or slaughtered by those very same monsters. Nora was busy dealing with a brutish abomination that has ripped its way out of a man's belly with over muscled arms and thick claws, ripping a booth couch from the floor and hammering it down on her as she exchanged thunderous blows with her own weapon. His moment of hesitation almost cost him his life as he weaved away from a thrust aimed at his heart, though at the cost of one of his pistols being sliced in half, the other shattering as he desperately parried another blow that sent him crashing through a chair and onto his back.

"REN!" Nora screamed as she struggled with the abomination, the Bloodletter pouncing on him with its blade poised to impale him through the heart.

For a split second, Ren was sure that he was going to die, that there was nothing he could do in this situation. Besides, what was the point? Even if he somehow survived, he wasn't strong enough to help Nora, nor was it likely that they'd make it out of this situation. What was the point of struggling so hard when there were people out there who could deal with a problem that he was never capable of taking on anyway? He glanced over at Nora and their eyes met. He saw the terror and fear in her eyes, anger welling up at his own willingness to give up and leave Nora.

He scowled and slapped the flat of the blade with his palm, the sword piercing through the floor right next to his ribs as he shot his middle and index finger into the daemon's bicep. It blinked, confused at the light tap before its muscles began to warp and bulge, exploding in a shower of steaming blood. It screeched in pain and stumbled back, Ren vaulting to his feet and pressing the advantage, slipping under a wild left-handed swipe and stabbing his fingers into its exposed ribs. The bones trembled as the daemon's own muscles contorted and tensed too tightly for them to handle, shattering a moment later before the left side of its torso bulged and burst open. Still it tried to fight back, throwing a right hook at Ren's head. He stepped in, caught the blow and pivoted hard, throwing the daemon over his shoulder and slamming his palm into its unprotected face. Its horned skull imploded a moment later, coating Ren in a film of viscous red paste before its body hit the floor.

He wasted no time, firing aura into his legs and launching himself across the room to deliver a flying side-kick directly into the abomination's horned skull, Nora slamming her hammer into the other side of its head. Its skull buckled and blood fired from its mouth but it wasn't done, swinging meaty fists out to the side to try and swat them away only for Ren to flip over as Nora weaved under, roaring as she swung her hammer right up into its jaw. Its head snapped up and its body was left exposed, Ren stepping in as his fists turned into blurs.

"AaaaAAAATATATATATATATA!" He let out a high-pitched cry as his knuckles pummelled the creature in an unending rain of blows, going so far as to lift it off its feet before he struck it one last time, right in its solar plexus.

"ATAAAH!"

The daemon was sent flying through the wall of the diner, Ren's glowing fist outstretched as he grimaced, seven spots in the shape of a certain constellation shining under his tattered clothes with the light of his aura.

"Sloppy work, but it'll do," He muttered, "Hundred-Crack Fist of the North Star."

"Ren…" Nora said worriedly. She didn't need to complete her sentence.

"Regardless of how I feel about it," He said firmly, "I'm not going to hold something back if it means breaking my promise to you."

Her worried look turned into a watery smile as she tackled him with a bearhug, Ren not budged by the force like he normally was but instead returning the embrace wholeheartedly.

"Surprised you still remember that," She chuckled wetly, Ren feeling her tears wet his shirt.

"I've never forgotten," He admitted, "And I'll never forget."

"Y-you…!" They both looked as the daemon made its way onto its stubby feet and stood in the hole he made in the wall, "Punches… tickle!"

Ren kissed his teeth in disgust, Nora already resting her hammer in her shoulder and walking away with him. Ren didn't even bother to look over his shoulder.

"You don't even know," He said dully, "You're already dead."

"F-funny…!" the daemon giggled before it crouched down, ready to pounce on them, "CRUSH YOU!"

Its entire body suddenly locked up right as it rose to jump, letting out a grunt of pain as it felt its muscles stiffen. Its chest suddenly caved in with the sound of its ribcage being reduced to splinters, blood firing from its eyes and mouth as its arms bent the wrong way at the elbow, before its forearms snapped like twigs under its own strength. It tried to scream, only to let out a gurgling pop as its own head imploded, the entire body wildly bloating and twisting before it burst like a ripe fruit.

"Jaune's on his way to our location," Nora said, showing Ren her Scroll.

"Then we double-time it and reach him first," He replied, Nora nodding with a grin as they both took off running. Neither of them saw the figure silently watching them from the trees. Nothing much could be seen, other than a handful of features. It was tall, monstrously built with deep grey skin taut with muscle. Massive and leathery bat-wings were draped around its shoulders like a mantle, decorative chains pierced into their flesh. Blue eyes shone from a shadowed face topped with a crown of immaculate horns, the mark of an eight-pointed star shining just as balefully on the very centre of its chest. It snorted in amusement before it melted away into the shadows.

"Let the funeral procession begin."

...TWBY Continued...


No lets see how many references and allusions you can spot? Some of them are VERY important. I might even point them out next chapter! Anyway, thank you all so much for the love and peace out!