Dr. Merlot's laboratory was this tangle of stainless steel and blinking monitors, like a sterile haven for his experiments. In this part of the lab, Raven Branwen found herself strapped to a cold, metal chair, her aura flickering like a dying flame. Drained and weakened, she could do nothing but glare defiantly at the man before her, maiden eyes threatening murder.
With calculated precision, Dr. Merlot approached, a syringe gleaming ominously in his gloved hand. Raven's muscles tensed as the needle poked her skin, but she was powerless to resist as he injected the concoction into her veins. A wave of dizziness washed over her, and she fought to keep her senses sharp.
"This should make you... manageable," Dr. Merlot murmured, his voice a chilling echo in the sterile chamber. "If you dare to resist, then we'll have no choice but to activate this. Of course, it's only a temporary measure to keep you peaceful."
Raven's jaw clenched, her resolve unbroken even as her body betrayed her. "And they say we have no morals," she spat, her words laced with venom.
The knight standing guard sneered, his rust-colored armor gleaming in the harsh dust light. "It's a precaution against people like you," he mocked, his voice dripping with disdain. "I do not trust you, and the people of Mistral would love nothing more than your head rolling on the ground. I would love nothing more than see your head roll for what you did in Shion."
Raven's maiden eyes blazed with defiance, but deep down, she knew the truth of their words. She was a hunted woman, a threat to be eliminated. But even in the face of overwhelming odds, she refused to bow her head. She was a survivor, and she believed she could somewhat find a way out of this. She just needed to find the right time.
Raven's eyes narrowed as she struggled against the effects of the injection, her mind racing with defiance even as her body weakened. "And what about Vernal?" she demanded, her voice a low growl.
The knight's voice remained toneless, his gaze unwavering behind that helm he wore all the time. "She'll be kept as leverage," he replied callously. "Besides, we need a way back to the island, and we can make her as an access point."
Raven's fists clenched, her frustration boiling beneath the surface. Vernal, her follower, was now reduced to a pawn. But there was little she could do in her current state, shackled and drained of her strength.
"Then at least give me back my weapon," with a sharp voice, Raven demanded her weapon. Blue, the android clad in a suit of metal armor, stepped forward obediently, presenting Raven's weapon, Omen.
"It's funny how you'd care about her when she's your pawn," the knight mocked.
Raven's grip tightened on Omen's hilt, her jaw clenched with barely contained fury. The knight's words cut deep, dredging up memories she had long sought to bury. He was right, in a twisted sense. She had used Vernal as a decoy, as a pawn in her own game of survival just in case Salem comes for hear. But to hear it spoken so callously, to have her actions thrown back at her with such disdain, struck a nerve somewhat.
"I'll do what I must survive," Raven spat back, her voice laced with venom. "Just as you would, if you were in my position."
The knight's laughter echoed through the sterile chamber, mocking and sarcastic. "Survival at any cost. Strength is everything. Isn't that your motto?" he taunted. "I understand the wisdom, Branwen, but I wonder how long will that go on? When that day comes, there'll be no one left to mourn your passing."
Raven's gaze hardened at the knight's words, her resolve steeling against his words. She may have made choices she wasn't proud of, but she refused to let anyone belittle her resolve. With a defiant glare, she rose from the chair. Omen now strap on her side, her eyes then narrowed as she surveyed the grotesque display behind the glass, her stomach churning at the sight of Grimm suspended in tubes like twisted specimens. The glowing green crystals embedded in their backs glimmered ominously.
It was Merlot's own brand of Grimm.
"Are you trying to make better, Grimm?" Raven demanded, her voice thick with disgust.
Dr. Merlot's laughter filled the room, echoing off the sterile walls like the cackle of a madman. "Oh, my dear Raven, we're not trying," he sneered. "We're succeeding the failure of the so-called freaks of nature!"
Raven's blood ran cold at his words, her mind reeling with horror at the implications. These creatures, born from the darkest depths of Remnant, were being cultivated here, their malevolence nurtured by the hands of madmen. Grimm was already tiresome to deal with in packs, and the Mutant Grimm Merlot cultivates were already deadly. She had seen how some of them could block her strike, and they were harder to kill than the common Grimm for they were dripping with a speck of intelligence. It reminded her of the same Hounds that took Summer from them.
"You all see nightmares," Dr. Merlot continued, his voice dripping with perverse fascination. "A mutant swarm, born from the very essence of fear. But I see beauty underneath. I see promise in nature's freak."
Raven's lip curled in revulsion, her fists clenched in impotent rage. How could anyone find beauty in such abominations?
The knight's scoff echoed through the chamber, a mocking counterpoint to Dr. Merlot's impassioned rant. Yet, despite his disdain, he allowed the mad scientist to continue his tirade.
Dr. Merlot's eyes gleamed with fervor as he spoke, his words a twisted symphony of delusion and desperation. "These Grimm are gnarled and mangled, warped, deformed," he exclaimed, gesturing wildly toward the glass tubes. "But if I succeed, if I unlock the secrets of their creation, then the Grimm will be gone."
Raven's scoff cut through the air like a blade, her contempt for the madman palpable. "And what makes you think you can succeed where others have failed?" she challenged, her voice dripping with disdain.
"The relic will gap some mistakes with my work. Dr. Merlot's laughter rang out, wild and unchecked. "Dear Ozpin is too narrow-minded," he spat, his eyes ablaze with righteous fury. "He can't handle another method other than his dashing Huntsmen to take care of the problem. But mark my words, Raven Branwen, I will make the cure, and I'll show everyone that my truth will triumph!"
Raven shook her head in disbelief, a mixture of pity and disgust churning in her gut. How could anyone be so blinded by their own arrogance, so consumed by their own delusions of grandeur?
"Enough," she snapped, her voice cutting through the tense air like a blade. "I'm not here to listen to you boast about your Grimm. You want the relics, right? I can create a portal directly to Lionheart right now and get this done and over with."
The knight scoffed, his skepticism clear in the curl of his lip. "And how do we know that Salem's agents haven't already infiltrated there?" he challenged, his voice dripping with suspicion.
Raven met his gaze with a glare of her own, refusing to back down in the face of his accusations. "Why would I want that?" she retorted, her tone laced with disdain.
The knight's scoff was dismissive as he approached, towering over her with an air of authority. "Or are you leading them?" he pressed, his voice low and dangerous.
Raven's nostrils flared with anger, her fists clenching at her sides. "You are speaking nonsense," she growled, her voice a low rumble of warning.
"Mrs. Rose didn't exactly return," he taunted, his words like a knife to her heart. "I suspect you handed her over to Salem to live... turned her into a hound."
The knight's words cut deep, a painful reminder of the sacrifices she had made in the name of survival.
Raven's eyes flashed with fury, her resolve hardening against his accusations. "You know nothing," she repeated, her voice icy with disdain.
"Oh, I know enough. Sometimes, the weapon tells more. Poor Summer Rose, eyes dilating as she watched her good friend slice a portal into an air and leave without her… embarrassing, really."
"Shut up!"
"And then you can't even take care of your own damn daughter. Turn into a bandit that menaces people who just want to live peacefully." The knight's words hung in the air like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over their tense exchange. "All I want out of this life is to get rid of monsters like you," he declared, his voice heavy with righteous indignation. "You… Salem and her pawns… really are all Jabberwalkers in another skin..."
Raven's lip curled in a sneer of contempt. "I get it," she spat, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You talk about this righteous crap when you're working for a madman like Merlot?"
"Did I say I was righteous in the first place?" he countered, his voice tight with frustration. "All I want is to see justice served. To see you get what you deserve… but it seems Dr. Merlot thinks you can be used yet, and that's all."
Raven's jaw clenched as she fought to contain her rising anger. "Look, I know you don't like me," she growled, her voice strained with emotion. "But can we get this over with?"
The knight's response was swift and cutting. "I disliked you," he declared, his words like a slap in the face. "I think that the people who you raided and made miserable should get their justice — you should get what you deserve. Does that make it clear where I stand?"
Raven's gaze hardened, her resolve steeling against the torrent of accusations and insults. "I get it," she muttered, her voice tinged with bitterness. "You talk about justice while working with a maniac like Merlot? Hypocrisy at its finest! So stop repeating your hate in front of my face, will you? It's tiring hearing you yap about."
With a last glare of defiance, Raven turned away from the knight, her mind racing with any way to escape this place.
As Raven stormed out of the laboratory, leaving behind a trail of simmering tension, Dr. Merlot turned to the knight, his brow furrowed with concern.
"Why do you have to provoke her, Mr. Arc?" he asked, his voice laced with a bit of frustration.
Jaune shrugged nonchalantly, his expression betraying little remorse. "Just my stupid ego, I guess," he admitted with little care. "And testing her patience. We need to know where she stands."
Dr. Merlot nodded thoughtfully, his gaze lingering on the door through which Raven had disappeared. "It's unlike you to have such a temper," he remarked, his tone tinged with curiosity.
Jaune offered a shrug in response. "I have my moments," he replied vaguely, unwilling to delve deeper into his own motivations.
Dr. Merlot sighed, his attention shifting back to the task at hand. "I doubt it will be easy to take the relic," he mused, his voice heavy with doubt.
But Jaune's confidence remained unshaken as he leaned against a nearby console, his gaze fixed on the screens showing the status of the Grimm they readied. "It'll be fine," he assured, his tone surprisingly calm. "If it's Cinder Fall, then she's after the Fall Maiden. And we know where she'll be heading."
Dr. Merlot raised an eyebrow, a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. "Then why aren't we going after Cinder Fall, Salem's agents?" he inquired, his voice tinged with skepticism. "She must be already after the fall maiden. She craves it, doesn't she?"
Jaune's lips curled into a wry smile, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. "Because Cinder Fall is cunning in her own way," he explained, his tone tinged with respect. "After what happened in Vale... she'd be wary enough. And the news of Raven's capture should be something they learned by now."
Dr. Merlot nodded in understanding, a sense of determination settling over him like a shroud. "Then we proceed as planned," he declared, his voice firm with resolve. "We will not be deterred by the likes of Cinder Fall or anyone else. The relic will be ours, no matter the cost."
Jaune then e leaned against a nearby console, crossing his arms over his chest.
"And what about the questions we need to ask the relic?" Jaune pressed, his tone casual yet pointed. "I already have an idea of what I want to ask, and I'm sure you do, too."
Dr. Merlot's expression softened slightly at Jaune's question, a thoughtful look crossing his features. "Indeed," he murmured, his voice tinged with contemplation. "But we must proceed with utmost caution that the questions don't overlapped. The relic holds great power, and we must be careful not to misuse the question. I will get mine and you will get yours. You have my word."
Jaune nodded in agreement, his gaze drifting to the intricate patterns etched on the floor beneath his feet. "Of course," he replied, his voice solemn. "I'm glad we are understanding, Doctor.."
Dr. Merlot's eyes gleamed with determination as he met Jaune's gaze, a steely resolve settling over him like a cloak. "The same," he declared, his voice firm with conviction. "We will ask the questions and then move on to the next relic.."
With a nod of agreement, Jaune straightened up from his position against the console, his muscles tensing with anticipation. "Then let's get to it," he said, his voice brimming with confidence. "The relic awaits, and we have much to uncover. I'm sure you'd want to take a time off while I reveal to Branwen what our plan of attack is."
Jaune nodded then left the room silently and stood in his dimly lit room, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts as he prepared himself for the task ahead. The relic of knowledge lay within the vault of Haven Academy, a prize coveted by many but attainable by a few without the proper niche and power. But Jaune was determined to take the relic… perhaps it would answer a question that he can't get out of his head.
One that he needed to know the moment he found himself back in time.
With a deep breath, Jaune closed his eyes, centering himself as he visualized the plan taking shape in his mind. First, he would use Raven Branwen's Semblance, the ability to create portals through bonds, to gain access to the heart of Haven Academy. It was a risky move, but one that offered the quickest route to their destination without Ironwood noticing at all.
Once inside Haven, they would need to immediately find their way to vault and take the relic without fuss.. He would rely on his skills and Raven Branwen to get the relic from the vault.
Then the questions… one for Merlot to ask about the Grimm and possibly to gain insight on how Salem controls the Grimm… and then a question that I want.
"Enough! Show yourself!" Amber, the Fall Maiden, stood at the center of the clearing, her powers swirling around her in a dazzling display of elemental fury. But her defiance was short-lived as Tyrian Callows, the deadly assassin of Salem, emerged from the shadows with a malevolent grin twisting his lips.
With a swift, savage strike, Tyrian plunged his blades into Amber's back, a sickening crunch echoing through the silence as her cries of pain pierced the air. Team RWBY, Ren, Nora, and Pyrrha watched in horror, their shouts of anguish drowned out by the sound of Amber's agonized gasps as she looked horridly.
Pyrrha's heart pounded in her chest as she watched Amber fall, her fists clenched with a fierce determination. With a primal roar, she lunged at Tyrian, her semblance assisting her with righteous fury. But the assassin was too quick, darting away with a mocking laugh as Pyrrha's blows struck nothing but air.
"The invincible girl," Tyrian taunted, his voice dripping with malice. "You're not exactly as fierce as I imagined. But they said to never meet your idols… hehe — ah, my goddess truly is the wisest!"
Pyrrha's eyes burned with rage as she watched Tyrian disappear into the darkness, her hands trembling as her polarity failed to activate just in time. Before she could pursue him, the sound of approaching footsteps filled the air, and a squadron of Atlas forces burst into the clearing, their weapons trained on the retreating assassin.
With a snarl of frustration, Tyrian vanished into the shadows once more, his mocking laughter echoing in the distance. The Atlas forces unleashed a barrage of gunfire in his direction, but it was too late. Tyrian had slipped away, leaving only chaos and devastation in his wake.
As the dust settled and the echoes of battle faded into the night, Pyrrha sank to her knees beside Amber's fallen form, her heart heavy with grief and guilt. She had failed to protect her.
But amidst the pain and despair, a flicker of determination burned bright in Pyrrha's eyes.
The same familiar fire that blazed Amber's eyes now burned on her eyes.