Chapter 4: Breakfasts of Champion


"REVOLUTION" ADAM

With 'Bedlam' asleep, Adam and his more recently produced twin paced slowly around the clearing keeping watch. The measure of their steps, the way they moved soundlessly through the grass, each motion so very much Adam but strange to see taken by another body. The other being was not just like him, he was him. How was Adam supposed to deal with that? He wanted to ask questions of himself. The other him kept looking at Adam; he wanted to ask the same questions.

For all that, he knew one thing about himself: he was a light sleeper. It was a trait that had kept him alive several times. Maybe the exhaustion would counter that a bit, but Adam was not going to rely on that. Bedlam needed rest more than any of them after he had gone solo against the grimm in the cave, and if they were going to make it back to Mistral they would need to sleep off this nagging headache. Since their bodies had been separated from one another, the strain from indecision overload was fading. It had still been three days since Adam had actually slept – he could not count his attempt at sleeping in that tree near Hazel's camp as proper sleep.

If having a conversation with himself threatened to be loud enough to wake himself up, then he would have to patiently postpone the conversation for later on.

Adam went to the edge of the clearing and began gathering some odd-looking berries that they had seen earlier. He ate one. It was dry and tart. Whatever doesn't kill me makes me stronger, Adam recited to himself.

Suddenly Adam stopped what he was doing and stood perfectly still. A low buzzing was coming from somewhere in the forest. It sounded familiar, and he tried to remember where he had heard it before. He looked at himself standing on the other side of the clearing and pointed at his ear, then the forest, relying on the sign-language he had been taught in the dust mines to indicate a potential threat.

The other Adam came closer and nodded, and together they tried to determine what the strange raspy sound was. They came to the answer together.

"Lancers." They whispered, the sound blending into the scraping of metal as each drew their forged signature red blade. They leapt back from the edge of the clearing and saw five of the child-sized insectoid grimm flying towards them, low under the branches with the sound of others following them. If I use Wilt to shoot them down, Bedlam will just get woken up and we'll lose more time, Adam thought bitterly, guess its the hard way.

Other Adam took out two with one swing while dodging out of the way of their tethered stingers and occupied another to prevent it from getting past; Adam rushed forward across the clearing to take out another two before they could disrupt the tranquility of Bedlam's rest. His twin finished off the last grimm and stowed his weapon in one motion.

If Adam liked one thing more than anything else so far, it was getting to watch himself work. His mastery of the blade had always been a source of pride to him, but never had he understood how totally badass he looked while fighting. It was honestly like watching a masterwork piece of art.

[More coming], Adam signed to his twin.

[I hear]

The Adams watched the forest, trying to determine where the rest of the swarm was coming from and how many they faced.

Suddenly they realized that, since they were both the same person, they knew the same sign language. That could be handy, Adam thought, it's been so long since I knew anyone else who used sign language. He had not actually known many people other than his fellow ex-Atlesian Ilia who knew even the basics of the signals while he was in the Mistral or Vale branches of the White Fang, and Ilia had learned the signs from her parents, not from her prep-school upbringing, so she wasn't great with them; even with his followers in Vale he had focused more on their martial skills and willingness to take risks for the cause than the skills he would label as more suited to clandestine operations. The last time I actually used sign language on a regular basis was when I was kept by the SDC.

[Survive, then talk more], each Adam mirrored the motions of the other, struggling to remember the proper signs of the language. He was a bit rusty, but so was other Adam. He could probably get away with some incorrect gestures, because if he thought they were correct then so would his other selves. Language, at its core, wasn't about grammar; it was about getting his point across.

The two faunus drew their swords and intercepted the swarm of wasp-like grimm, communicating their points through the horrid monstrosities. The monsters were now coming out at a steady stream from the woods, numbering a solid dozen now but thankfully focusing their attentions completely on the conscious members of their party.

"Good thing they're not making a beeline for Bedlam!" Stage-whispered his companion. It was a terrible pun. It was liable to wake up Bedlam. He was an idiot for saying it. Adam struggled to not break out into laughter, because if the pun hadn't woken himself up then laughter would.

Even as his twin sliced through them with ease, more came to replace them. While he watched out for the creatures' namesake stingers, his attention was taken by a shadow in the moon.

[Well there's the alpha] signalled Adam. The massive black and white hornet was only half the size of the lavel they had dealt with earlier that night. [You hold off the small, I will destroy the big ugly]

His twin's look silently asked, 'how are you going to do that without using Blush?'

Adam's lack of answer was because he wasn't sure he had one, but he was willing to improvise; falling back to put himself (and his Wilt) between the queen lancer's barrage of spiked projectiles and the sleeping form of Bedlam. To his credit, Adam deflected every single one. As the last of the projectiles was blocked, an idea formed in Adam's mind. His brother turned his attention back to the swarm, since he would know what he would do in the situation against the queen and was content that Adam could pull it off unassisted.

The lancer queen thought that it was cunning, staying at range when all the Adams seemed to have were little red claws. So it kept firing its chitinous stingers, hoping to wear the faunus out. Grimm didn't need to sleep. They existed only to destroy. It could keep shooting a rain of projectiles at Adam indefinitely.

Adam Taurus needed sleep. Adam Taurus lived for something more precious than destruction. He lived for revenge, and this stupid thing dared to stand in his path against him.

It launched successive barrages, and Adam blocked another twenty stingers from hitting Bedlam's prone body. In the distance, he saw his twin keeping the small ones at bay, twisting in midair as he dodged the spikes flying at him.

At the end of the day, a lancer was just an oversized fly. He deflected another three shots from the lancer. Adam felt the energy contained in Wilt, his semblance singing for release. This should be enough to establish control of the situation.

Adam's body flared with crimson radiance as he activated Moonslice, and the energy from the queen's volleys his blade had deflected surged up in a red crescent to hit the bug, taking off the wings of its left side. It hissed in rage as it spiraled gracelessly to the ground, impacting a tree and getting ridiculously tangled in a mess of vines and branches where the beast had little to protect it from his blade's journey as he sprinted forward to plunge Wilt through its multifaceted eye into its head. If it had a brain, then it did not anymore.

Yet even the death of their alpha did not stymie the approach of the retinue of smaller lancers, and it was still a solid minute of the Adams hacking and slashing before the last of the bugs was little more than smoke in the night air.

[So many grimm] Adam signed to his brother as they sat near their thankfully still-sleeping version, [why are they attracted?]

[I am not sure] his twin replied in kind, [I feel happier now than I have in days, maybe months, with you two attending my other goals. If neither one of us is producing negative thoughts, then what is making them come for us?]

The two of them both looked at the sleeping form of Bedlam. He did not know what he would look like if he was having a bad dream or nightmare, but he seemed peaceful enough. Adam thought about the mystery for a while as they resumed pacing around the clearing, then he went over to the dirt and with a pointed stick he made a circle with three tines rising out of it.

"You think the Relic is why they're coming after us, too?" His twin whispered softly, having to say it out loud since there was no word in sign language for 'Relic of Choice'. At least, none that Adam knew of. If he just pointed at his left hand's middle finger and made a circle with his other hand, that would be a phrase. Just not one that was used in polite company.

It had been used in the mines a lot.

[Yes], Adam replied, making the profane sign that they were both thinking of.

[Old faunus maybe has answer in Mistral], his twin said, leaving Adam confused for a moment. His brother was clearly trying to mention someone they knew, but most of the people in Mistral he knew now were humans he hated or faunus who had betrayed him.

[School old faunus] the other Adam repeated, looking serious.

[School old faunus], Adam tried to follow; after a flash of insight he wrote 'Lion' in the dirt. His twin nodded.

If Lionheart didn't know what to do about having a grimm magnet tied to their shared aura, then Adam feared that nobody would. As headmaster of a huntsman academy, Lionheart was possibly the wisest and most intelligent faunus on Remnant. It was worth looking into whether he would be willing to help Adam. Adam wondered why Lionheart was on his twin's mind but not his; their minds were different so soon after the split.

[Are you coming with us to Mistral, or going to where big human ship was] Adam inquired. It took him a while to do, since he struggled with the sign for Mistral and did not have words for Hazel, Emerald or Mercury. Hazel was easily the biggest human he'd ever seen, though, so Adam figured it out eventually.

[Yes. Hazel in Mistral, can find him there if fast] other Adam responded, [otherwise will look for fire girl]. Adam did not need to think hard to figure out who that last bit referred to. Hazel is easier to deal with than Cinder, Adam conceded.

[Why was Cinder not with Hazel?] asked Adam, [what if Cinder died at Mistral? We know she has weakness, retreated from Vale, one of Blake's people]. Adam had invented his own sign for Blake, but his twin seemed to understand the made-up sign for what it represented.

Other-Adam shook his head side to side, weighing the possibilities, [Lionheart, next objective]. Ah, so that is why he has Lionheart on his mind. We each know that Cinder had some connection to Lionheart, so it stands to reason that Lionheart has some connection to Cinder and Hazel's boss. Even if it is only one-way or coerced, Lionheart is a faunus and probably more willing than most to shelter and aid an Adam Taurus. Lionheart also plays into my twin's motivation to learn more about things like Cinder's dustless abilities and the whole relic business.

The other Adam picked up the chiselled stick and began drawing on the ground while Adam kept a lookout. After a few minutes the snap of his fingers alerted Adam to his twin's desire for his attention to what he had drawn. Written on the ground was a crude map of the area, showing their departure from Haven, their journey trailing Hazel away from the city, then their hasty trip back to the White Fang headquarters in the hinterlands. Beside that was written 'Hazel-Cinder-Lionheart'.

Adam gave a quick thumbs up to indicate agreement. That was his plan. [What is your plan], queried the twin.

Adam drew a picture of a boat on waves, then drew a picture of an airship with a cloud beside it. Beside those he wrote 'Vale', then did a quick attempt to do the White Fang logo in the dirt. His plan was a bit more straightforward and perhaps more difficult than his brothers'. He needed to get to Vale, which meant some sort of transportation, which meant blending in and not getting caught. The other was planning on hanging out with wanted criminals immediately while Bedlam just needed to stay out of Blake's sight.

Adam gazed at the drawing of the relic, then at the cessation of wisps of smoke drifting upwards from where the queen lancer's corpse had dissolved. He was tired of being forced to fight grimm and traitors; it was a waste of his talents and a diversion from his desire to kill humans. Each faunus and grimm he was forced to slay just made life easier for his true foes. He was thankful that the grimm had come for him during the night, so that few would notice the pillar of tell-tale grimm smoke and come to see who the hero was; knowing his spate of luck of late, a bunch of Menagerie militia would have seen it and come to 'help'.

Mines, why couldn't they just let him save them? Why had they had to ruin everything?

Once they made it to Mistral things should be easier. Free of the distraction of grimm attracted to his relic, Adam would be free to pursue his path. Let any human who dares get in his way know fear. Once all three of his selves were rested, Adam Taurus would be unchallenged by anything the new dawn threw at him: for what does the future ruler of the world and his perfectly loyal brothers have to fear?

Absolutely nothing.

The Adams looked at each other and smiled. Knowing that their thoughts were aligned, they both signed [fear is for everyone else to have of us].


BEDLAM

'Bedlam' Adam rolled over onto his back and opened his eyes. The waning moon still hung brightly in the sky, which surprised him since he felt so well rested. It cannot have been more than a few hours since I went to sleep. He sat up and his brothers turned to regard him with their masked faces.

"Problems sleeping?" They asked him together, "too much adrenaline from the cave in our systems would do that."

"I am fine." Bedlam responded, "you two can take a break, I'm good to watch for a bit."

"Here, I found some berries over there. They don't seem poisonous." One of them said, handing him a large leaf with several withered purple berries on it. "They're not sweet or juicy but I ate a few an hour ago and I'm not dead yet."

"Or if you are, then the afterlife so far is much better than living. Much better company here, for starters." The other stated with a grin. Bedlam accepted the berries and tried one. They had not undersold them. They were awful berries that no self-respecting person would eat unless desperate like they were.

So they were a delicacy for a man raised on SDC mine-slave rations, a breakfast of champions.

The other two made themselves comfortable on the ground while Bedlam stood up, taking in the sounds of the twilight. Crickets chirped through the forest and fireflies blinked in the distance. "Did anything happen while I was asleep?"

"Some small lancers tried to sting him."

"Grimm that weak wouldn't attack anything more than a child, but they came at us anyway even after I dispatched their queen," added the second, before continuing, "we may have an issue with the Relic attracting the creatures of grimm to us."

Disturbing news, if accurate. "Alright, sleep well my pretties. I'll keep us safe from the denizens of the forest." Adam did a quick stretch, which turned into a bit of a flex, "We have a lot of ground to cover when you wake up."

"Yeah, we were thinking that, too."

"Look on the ground," chuckled the other.

Bedlam looked at the ground and saw that they had drawn something in the dirt. Upon inspection, he realized they had drawn a perfectly accurate map of the area, showing their escape from Mistral, their departure from where Hazel had left Emerald and Mercury, their trip to the White Fang base, and some attempts to account for how much time they had. Beside that was Lionheart's name, images of what were clearly a plane beside a cloud and a boat in water, a depiction of the ring, the White Fang emblem, and what appeared to be their attempts to come up with names for each other like they did for him. Naming themselves after Wilt and Blush? Adam thought to himself, sort of makes me an awkward third wheel. Then again, I am 50% original Adam while they're each 25%. Does that make me the leader? If they expect me to tell them what to do, that's not what I'm about. I have my own Blake agenda to pursue! Adam began to worry, but then realized that he was worrying over nothing: they were still him, and understood that his path led away from theirs.

"I'm still hopeful I can catch Hazel in Mistral, but if he's already taken off then I'll just keep looking for Cinder. Worst case scenario, if she's gone to ground I might be able to track down Lionheart."

"Lionheart? The old guy from the school we tried to blow up?"

"Yeah, he's the headmaster but Cinder seemed to have him under her thumb somehow. Maybe she showed up at his school with a box of money and a crate of dust? I figure he might be an ally to us, even if his ties to Cinder were mercenary. Faunus solidarity and all that."

"What if he's not?"

"Well, he still might know something about the ring and stuff. It might not hurt to try to research that."

"Ugh, you mean books and reading?" Bedlam sighed, "you know that's not our strong suit. Blake's the only person who ever tried to teach us that sort of thing, and even she knew our academic leanings went no further than literacy."

"Yeah, there is a reason we prefer calling people on the scroll rather than texting."

"So I'll get Lionheart to do the book-work for me." Adam said, drawing his Wilt, "I'm sure I can convince him. Somehow." He sheathed Wilt.

"What are you going to do? Walk into his office and demand he work for you?" Bedlam held in a laugh, "that's pretty bold of you. He's still a headmaster of a huntsman academy in his seat of power, I'm not sure that is a fight we want to walk into."

"Even if we're confident it is a fight we would walk out of." Interjected the other Adam.

"I'd prefer to call it decisive action. I go into his office, get him to work for us, and if things go south I think I'm still faster than an old timer like that."

"Adams, I'm pretty sure the end result is that we're all heading to Mistral and you're both keeping me awake. Once we're done sleeping, we'll head into one of the outlying towns full of human racists and get a feel for the situation in the city. Maybe get some disguises or something."

Bedlam watched his brothers go to sleep. It was a nice feeling, having brothers that he could bounce ideas off of. Not like his comrades in the White Fang, masked in anonymity, relying on him to think of everything. Not like his coworkers in the SDC, enslaved and embittered. Not like muttering to himself in the woods like a lunatic, defeated and destitute. This was almost a real family like he had always imagined, the kind that anti-faunus prejudice had stripped him of before the time he was old enough to remember his parents faces. He'd thought his only chance of experiencing a true family would be to make one with Blake. The world had gotten in the way of that. Her reluctance and fear had gotten in the way of that, despite having told him that he didn't scare her. That his scar didn't make her flinch. She was scared of what he had to do to make the world safe and balance the scales of justice, not just for himself, or her, but for faunus everywhere.

He walked over to the edge of the clearing, still a bit groggy from just waking up.

Disguises. Masks. Blake had never worn a mask; she had never really agreed with what had to be done to free their people. She had too much of her father in her ideology, and too little of Adam in her.

Despite all that she'd done to him, he still missed her. Still wanted her back. How pathetic is that?

He missed the way she had clung to him, hugged him after tough missions that always seemed to go wrong. She had seen his true face, the Adam behind the mask. When she rejected him, she had rejected all of him. Left him alone with nobody his peer. Well, Sienna perhaps, Adam thought sadly, but even Sienna was too devoted to Ghira's unrealistic vision to see what has to be done for the good of the faunus.

He took off his mask and dropped it on the ground as he continued to stagger to the nearest tree. Just like Blake, he wasn't in the White Fang anymore. Not the version of him that he was, a version that would throw everything else aside to find Blake again.

He did not need her to stop being afraid. He just needed her to stop running away.

The night air bristled against his exposed scar and he winced. The pain helped focus him, woke up the last bits of his brain still clinging to sleep.

Disguises.

Masks.

Running from the pain, hiding from it. That's what Blake did.

He wasn't going to wear the mask anymore, he decided then. He wasn't interested in the White Fang anymore. Humans, faunus, it wasn't his problem anymore. Well, it is a problem for some of me... Regardless of the concepts of plural identity, Bedlam would show Blake that, unlike her, he wasn't afraid to hide when he next caught her. He breathed deeply of the twilight forest air, rich with the aromas of autumn. He tried to muster a smile, thinking of his inevitable next glimpse of Blake. Next time would be different. Next time, he'd take care to make sure she didn't get away again.

He made his way back to where his copies lay. He looked again at the map. Those were their plans, their futures. His job was straightforward. There was plenty of room for further detail in how to get it done, and time to think about it while sitting silently by the dead campfire. He moved to an adjacent patch of ground, unmarred by his their plans.

He grabbed a conveniently nearby stick and began drawing in the dirt to keep himself occupied; busywork to make sure he did not fall back asleep if this was just a short adrenaline burst. His mind always strayed to Blake; he thought of those quiet times when she taught him how to read and draw artistically, and how close they had been back then.


"So you decided to draw Blake." Said Adam.

"Hey, it was a dull watch shift. You two slept for almost three hours! I wasn't going to just sit there like a gargoyle, I had to do something."

"So you decided to draw Blake." Said the other Adam.

"I think it was as good a use of my time as what you two did while I was sleeping."

"You mean kept you from getting speared by lancers?"

"Why is she naked?" Adam asked.

"She's not naked!"

"A collar does not really count as clothing..." The other Adam pointed out. He wasn't really wrong, so Bedlam ceded the point to him.

"I think we're all focusing on the wrong thing here. Did nobody else notice that we seem to require the same amount of sleep as before the splits, but divided by the bodies we have rather than for each body?" Bedlam intervened, trying to steer the conversation to something constructive.

"Dai did say something about the soul recharging last night when she first appeared, but we found that part a bit confusing. So I guess no matter how many bodies we have we only need seven hours or so of sleep between us to feel rested and recharge our aura."

"I recall she mentioned something along the lines of 'additional benefits' of the gift beyond just making permanent copies of me," Bedlam said, "I feel like this might be one of them?"

The Adams looked at each other. "Seems like it is."

"Not wearing the mask anymore?" One of the other Adams asked.

The other had been rubbing the mask on his own face, probably having been about to ask an identical question. "I'm keeping my mask. I won't wear it until I get back to Vale, but it's still important to my mission."

"The mask really isn't... it's about the White Fang. Not really me, anymore, feels off. Like the codename you bestowed upon me. Speaking of which, I'm the only one with an alias so far." Bedlam said, "how about you two? If we walk into town, I don't want to be shouting 'Hey Adam Taurus, wanted criminal and terrorist, come over here!' If word gets out about where I am, then Blake will just feel that much safer wherever she is. I want her to have no idea where I am or what I'm doing."

"You sure? Maybe if you went up to a wall and started painting tasteful erotica you'd blend right into regular society."

"How about Adam Tyrant? That's a word for a singular political leader. Adam Tyrus? I saw you two were thinking of just taking our weapons' names as your own but I feel like there are more than enough people who know what Wilt and Blush are called to make those red flags to anyone hunting for us," suggested Bedlam. "We could call him Tyr or something for short."

"I agree about the Blush and Wilt bit, but the word tyrant has negative connotations. We don't want to alienate our own people." The other Adam pointed at his copy, "I'm thinking that since his goal is to head to Vale to lead the faunus revolution and enslave humanity, he's a dominant version of me. A dom? Adom? Get it?"

"And you say I'm the weird one why, exactly?" Bedlam said while he shook his head, cringing slightly.

"Because you spent the night drawing a very precise drawing of Blake on her knees wearing nothing but a collar in the dirt." Replied 'Adom', "plus we are more similar to each other than we are to you, by a couple of minutes. If that matters."

"The question was rhetorical."

"I had a good answer to it, though. Anyways, 'Adom' is not really that much different from our actual name, which could be a problem if anyone is suspicious of us. On paper it is different, but shouting out 'Hey Adom Taurus! In town works out the same way."

"Alright, then how about Dom?"

"Yeah, like a fetish thing! We could get you set up with a leather mask and some chains instead of a shirt for your disguise." The unnamed Adam chirped, preparing to continue before considering the way his closest twin's hand was twitching towards Wilt, "or Dominic, if you prefer?"

"Dominic is fine, I'll go with that. At least it is an actual name." Dominic conceded. "What about you, then, twin?"

His twin shrugged, "I don't feel right naming myself. You guys have to name me."

"Is that really necessary? We're all the same brain, we'd come up with the same thing."

"I just want to be able to have a name that I did not give myself."

"But it is you giving it! I'm you!" Dominic complained. "I feel like this is too important to not get done right before heading out, so just come up with a name!"

"Semantics. We have different bodies, so it is sort of different."

"Hey, me and myself, can we focus?" Interrupted Bedlam, "remember the story the old mole told us, about the ancient human king who kept a creature in a maze and fed his subjects to it when they disobeyed him?"

"Yeah, the minotaur legend. I hated that one, because everyone compared me to the beast." Dominic recalled with distaste. "Who else was able to get through the mines as quick as we could without getting lost? After we made it out alive after being left for dead, a few people said we were a minotaur-faunus...that's where we got our last name from."

We just cut out the 'mino' and the 'faun', thought Bedlam, remembering their childhood shame of having no parents and no name; how even Ilia had had that over him. Giving myself a last name had been a poor attempt to keep people from bullying me about my background, but the name had stuck.

"Not like our parents were decent enough to abandon us with a last name." Dominic added.

"I would like to point out that it is important to note that that name was given to us by others, and not devised by me at the time." Declared the un-renamed Adam.

"Well there was another part of that, where he made a big brass statue of a bull and cooked his enemies in it alive." Bedlam said, ignoring the unnamed clone's input, "they threw the people in the metal statue and lit a fire underneath it, and their screams came out the mouth of the statue like animal noises."

"Ah, I see where you're going with this." The Adam nodded, remembering the story, "so I'm the big metal torture device, then? The metal bull?"

"Well, I mean your goal is to get back with Cinder who, let's face it, is all about fire. From the name, to the semblance, to her personality." Dominic said, "it is not a bad image I guess."

"What image? Cinder shoving people into my mouth and roasting me?"

"Plus you're goal is a bit more reckless, a bit more uncertain, more bold than either of us." Bedlam considered, "Dominic and I are dealing with things we know: the White Fang and Blake. You're the one dealing with the mysteries that are popping up like weeds in my life."

"So what would my name be?"

"Well, another word for bold and the name of the torture statue was Brazen." Said Bedlam, "or we could call you Braze? Your preference there, I guess."

"Either one works. I'll go with Brazen, I suppose." Brazen said as he got up. "Anyways, I guess I'll be the one to light a fire under our asses to get us moving." He waited for laughter, then continued without missing a beat when it didn't come, "we've got work to do and no excuse for just sitting around here twiddling our fingers, especially if those fingers have grimm magnets on them."

Dominic wiped a few stray bits out of his eyes and nodded in assent. Bedlam checked to make sure nothing was left at the campsite.

"Oh, by the way, since we knew sign language, we all know sign language." Brazen suddenly mentioned to Bedlam.

"Yeah, it came in handy to talk without waking you up last night." Dominic added, "we figure it might be useful in the future, so don't be like us and forget you know it."

Blake doesn't know sign language, though, Bedlam thought. What use would it be to him in his pursuit of his love?

The three Adams began making their way towards the nearest of the agricultural villages, optimistic for the progress they would have there in the pursuit of their diverging goals and thinking about how to best conceal their identities from the authorities. Getting rid of his mask was a start, but his outfit would need a complete makeover as well. Though he disliked having to give up the clothes that Blake had said he looked good in, it would be worth it if it meant getting her back to his side. Or getting back at her, like when he'd scarred her side at Beacon.

He would do so much for Blake. All she had to do was believe in him.

He would do so much to Blake. She had hurt him more than anyone ever had before.

She would have to choose which side of him she wanted to deal with. Shame she didn't have a magic ring.