Hey all! This chapter took a little longer, and it itself is also a little longer. Hopefully the wait was worth it!
Surprisingly, queueing up for a train ride which you know will be disrupted, attacked and destroyed is more awkward than usual.
Silva shied away from any eye contact to not draw any attention towards herself as she stood in line - her left hand was shoved into her knitted linen grey suit jacket, whereas her right was holding tight onto the strap of her traveling bag. It was heavy, but most of the stuff inside was filler, to trick the train security into thinking that she's just an ordinary passenger. Miss Jurata put a lot of care into making sure that she was as inconspicuous as possible - so, aside from the already mentioned jacket, she had exchanged her rugged traveller clothes for a white blouse, grey skirt, low profile shoes and a cloche hat. It wasn't going to hide the scales on her face, but, hopefully, they don't end up pulling her into another incident.
The sacrifices I have to make for this... That hat was really making her hair itch. And how was she supposed to fight in this skirt?
"Ticket," the bored ticket inspector by the entrance to the train said right as the passengers in front of Silva, an old dark-skinned couple, passed him. The Faunus pulled a small card while her eyes glanced to the side. Silva Natrix... that's an odd name. Going by name order and her race, it should be... "Third car from the back. Put all weapons in the back of the train."
Behind the ticket inspector, a few middle-aged men in three-piece suits were pulling out their Dust handguns with slight frustration and handing them over to two uniformed Rangers. It made sense to Silva - the train staff didn't want any more unexpected violence from the passengers than they could handle in the middle of a train tunnel trip.
"I'm unarmed," she answered bluntly and then walked past the inspector. There, she blended into the crowds marching into the train cars with their luggage.
Her task here was simple. A mere attack on a running train would not be as impactful on the psyche of the people of Vale if it did not leave casualties. Innocent blood spilled on their own soil by a dastardly foreign foe which stands against everything that Vale is founded upon, and seeks to impose their backwards worldview upon the entire planet - it would shake them and horrify them. Silva was here to ensure that there were as many casualties during the attack as possible - not necessarily for going in there and snapping some necks herself, especially as that might give away Miss Jurata's conspiracy, but by messing things up from the side-lines. So, as she mindlessly strolled past one car after another, following the mass of people searching for their seats, her eyes scrolled through the ceilings and the walls. They were picking up any relevant information - the usual location of ladders leading to the roof of each car, the positions where Ranger escorts were standing, and so on.
Once she reached her seat, the woman dipped out of the stream of people and sat down on the cushioned, comfortable bench. Almost all the passengers in her car were Faunus, like herself - and pretty much every human passenger passed the car with faint glares of contempt. From her bag, Silva pulled out her pungi, then she crossed her legs on the bench and began playing. A playful, jumping sharp hum filled the air of the train car.
A little bit better than her practice in the Amber House. But still awful. Nobody here is going to like it.
The pungi was to be played with no pause, not even for breathing, requiring the musician to use a circular technique of breathing through their nose while exhaling through their mouth - yet, Silva's song stopped for a fraction on a second, her eyes diverted towards the crowd. A head of white hair brushed through the stream before being hidden behind the passengers again, a familiar mane of long dark hair that ended with reddish tips popped out from in between the suits and jackets before vanishing once more.
The train buckled, startling a few passengers who weren't accustomed to a method of transport as recent as this, and then began to move, picking up speed as it approached the tunnel into the southern mountains and then dipped into the dimly lit entrance. One after another, the lamps of gaseous Dust attached to the ceiling of each car turned on, letting out a bright white glow.
The last of the passengers still standing were finding their seats. Firre, Reza, Ashen and Yche were standing in the middle of the car - their bench was somewhere in this section, but after Ashen confused them a bit by looking at the wrong number on their tickets, they were looking around for a place to sit. In the middle of the search, Yche suddenly approached Firre after a glance to the side, speaking:
"Hey, Firre?"
"Yeah?"
"Is that the Faunus from a few days ago?" Yche's finger was pointing at Silva, who had returned to playing with her pungi. Her choice of clothing was completely different from the last time they saw her, but that skin and those scales were unmistakeable.
"That's her."
"So, should we-" she was going to ask whether they should approach the Faunus, but Firre walked past her to do so anyway. "-oh, we're doing this."
"Hey, Silva!"
As soon as she heard her name being called, the Faunus girl immediately tensed up - she pushed herself back on the bench and aimed her pungi forward as if she was going to protect herself with it. Yche, standing besides Firre, playfully raised her hands and giggled. Well, she's certainly as paranoid as I remember her.
"Aw, come on, don't worry, we're not gonna hurt you," she said. Silva lowered her instrument, though her eyes didn't move away from the Ranger and prince and tracked their every more. "We just wanted to say hi to ya and see whether you're still safe, that's all."
Something else was on the Faunus woman's mind, however. "You... remember me?" The question, spoken so weakly that it may as well have been whispered, yet still completely blunt, got Yche and Firre to glance at each other in confusion before the latter answered:
"Of course. We only met a few days ago."
Simple, obvious explanation, especially as the fact that she had bailed on them probably imprinted her on their psyche a little more. Silva wouldn't believe it. A human remembering my name? What for? It wouldn't bring them any advantage, no more than dropping a simple "snake-face", or "lizard", or "beast" would to refer to someone beneath them and, in their eyes, worthless.
Before Silva could mention anything, however, she was interrupted by a shout from behind Yche. Reza and Ashen noticed where their teammates had gone, and Ashen pushed past the other three to stop in front of Silva and say:
"Ohh, Silvee, is that you? That dress, it's so cute!"
S-Silvee?!
Ashen's enthusiasm was met with Silva's baffled and, frankly, a little disgusted look. She realised that this comment didn't fly almost instantly and moved her face back.
"Right, I mean... sorry. Where'd you get that dress from, though?" It was a little odd to see a fugitive slave be dressed so... well, and maybe even questionable. Reza joined in the conversation after her:
"And where'd you go when we last met?"
It appears that these three Rangers did not learn their mistake from last time. Still, so nosy... So, Silva suddenly rose from her seat - with her glare, she tried to intimidate the team, but given that she was as short as Ashen, it was... easier envisioned than done. Still, she answered:
"Are we doing this again? Would you like it if I started asking everything about what you're doing and where you're going?"
The responses of the team diverged.
"Right, we're sorry for being intrusive, we just-" Yche began to apologise with a step back, but she was interrupted by Firre, who suddenly, without a tinge of hesitation, declared:
"Of course we wouldn't mind. Feel free to ask anything."
Each of his teammates turned to him, confused and taken aback, while a baffled Silva stared him straight in the eyes. What was this about, what was Firre on right now? Weren't he and the three women on a mission that was supposed to be on the down low, rather than blabbered out to a civilian? As crazy as it appeared, there was a reason behind the madness. We don't know anything concrete about this conspiracy, if one exists, anyway. Even if she starts asking, there's not much that can impede our progress if we reveal it. What's more important, though... is that this is clearly a matter of lacking trust. Of fear that any human like myself would try to harm her. If we show that we can confide our knowledge with her, then perhaps that will, at least, make her question this.
"Oh, uh..." Silva stammered, unsure what to even say, but forced out a question when it became clear that Firre was not making a joke. "So, then... where are you heading?"
"We're heading to Mountain Glenn on an investigation into the slave catching rings that we talked about in the Seven Ravens a few days ago."
"Really?" she put on a faux interested tone, yet the mocking did not land. Firre simply listened to her with a faint smile. "Okay, then, uh... what are you expecting to find in Mountain Glenn?"
"After we checked the weapons that the slave catchers had, Ashen guessed that they were made by a weapons designer in Glenn," his thumb pointed to his teammate behind him as they spoke. "It's not guaranteed that he would know how his creations ended up in the hands of those criminals, they could have gotten them second-hand, but it's a better hint than any."
"You..." What else? Is he really going to just... tell me anything? In desperation, Silva yelled out with her fists clenched. "You-What did you have for breakfast?!" Even this, however, did not faze the prince - he remained composed and answered:
"Blancmange, made of cream and fish bladder jam. And a cup of tea."
Right as he said that, though, Firre looked around, confused for the first time in the conversation himself. Why were... all three of his teammates staring at him? Why was Silva's expression now a twisted, disgusted stare? Uh, did I... say something wrong?
After a few seconds, the Faunus' glare broke down with an amused snort. "What... what even is that?"
"...oh, you mean that."
This time, it was Ashen's turn to drop her expression and giggle with amusement. "It's royal food, we don't get it either." Firre let out a sigh and added:
"It's really not that good. I would guess that whatever you had for breakfast was probably better."
The conversation immediately turned to breakfast and food preference - and, for the first time ever since they first met, Silva appeared like she had a few things she wanted to say. However, out of the team of four travelling in the train, one was not participating in the discussion.
Yche had stepped away, her eyes turning to one of the windows of the train car and focusing on the direction for long enough that the elderly woman sitting there noticed her and got puzzled. Something... something's not right.
"What is the meaning of thi- Gah!"
The thrust of a light golden trident, moving faster than the eye could track, pierced into the chest of a shocked tunnel operator, easily going through his weak Aura protection, impaling him and letting a stream of blood splash to the ground.
The two other workers in the tunnel control booth turned around and raised their hands in a panic. Five masked assailants stood in front of the corpse which was their colleague a few moments ago - each one was covered in several layers of robes and a cloak, with masks over their faces, but the shape of the body hinted that the person at the front, with a now-bloodied trident, was a woman.
She lifted her hand, and two of her associates raised their rifles. Bolts cocked, weapons loaded, the faces of the workers contorted to fear - and then, a volley fired.
Jurata briefly fixed her mask, approached the control panel and threw the two bleeding corpses off the assorted buttons and screens and to the ground. A reinforced window overlooked the tunnel and the tracks in front of her.
Alright then, where is it... She looked through the dozens of buttons, most of them, sadly, unlabelled, before settling on a lever to her right and pulling it. Immediately, a loud and powerful crack reverberated throughout the tunnel, followed by a hum of grinding blocks of slightly rusted metal.
Above their heads, the rooftop of a large section of the tunnel, running through a valley in between two mountains, was opening, letting in rays of the warm afternoon sun and illuminating the poorly lit depths. By itself, exposing the train tracks to the outside world was not going to do much, not until a pack of Grimm came across the entrance and tried their luck. That was exactly what they were here to solve, however.
"Now, for the final step..."
Suddenly, Jurata spun the trident in her hand around and slammed the reinforced glass with the dull end - it cracked and broke apart, immediately letting through a gust of cool air. Her left hand burrowed under her cloak and carefully carried out a small creature - a bird of pitch-black goo, except for the face and beak, which carried a bone-like mask with two pure red eyes.
Just looking at the small Mockingbird Grimm was uneasy for all, except for Jurata herself, who looked down at the creature stretching out her wings with an allured smirk. Her hand tossed it forth, and it flew through the hole in the glass, letting out one chirp after another - each one of them was inaudible to the human ear, but the audience it was intended towards turned their attention towards the call from miles away.
It's done.
"Thank you for your cooperation," Jurata said. "Now, if you excuse me, I have a news report to make."
Two Rangers were sitting on the roof of the train, passing the time in the most boring assignment of the job with some idle chatter about life, politics and the seemingly impending war. Both were in their thirties - one was with dark hair and a stubble, and accentuated his green uniform with an armour pad of reinforced wood over his left arm, while the other, a redhead, was well groomed and expressed himself beyond the mandatory outfit with several amber rings on his fingers. Their rifles were placed besides them, patiently awaiting their moment.
The first of the Rangers yawned and leaned back, his eyes settling on the monotone concrete walls speeding past them. "Yeah, I agree, I probably won't vote for Iolanta next year, either. I've heard a lot of good things about-"
Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by a loud snap, and then a metallic groan, dozens of tons of steel grinding against the earth, that echoed throughout the entire tunnel.
"-what the hell was that?"
"Uhh..." the other Ranger pointed behind his comrade, to the expanse of the tunnel - already, they could see light filtering from outside and a gap in the ceiling widening. "Why are the operators opening that all of a sudden?"
"Weird. They're not allowed to open tunnel sections to the outside when trains are running through them. It might attract..."
A blood-curdling screech, instantly digging into the bones of the two men, rolled across the tunnel. Instantly, an enormous raven-like creature of pitch-black ooze swept in through the widening gap. Dozens of other Grimm, from the smaller bear-like Ursas to an entire pack of werewolf-like Beowolves, attracted by the song of the Mockingbird, leapt down after it, banding together in the tunnel and eagerly awaiting a chance to leap onto the speeding train.
The Nevermore touched down on the first passenger car of the train, its mass and momentum shaking the entire vehicle, and the red eyes behind its bone mask glared down at the two terrified Rangers.
"GRIMM!"
The sudden shake of the train caught everyone by surprise - Ashen and Reza had to suddenly grab onto the nearest metal poles, while Firre and Yche dug their boots into the floor. Fear, concern and worry immediately settled all among the passengers - nobody knew what was going on, what just happened, and whether they were supposed to panic or just assume that whatever the issue was is going to be handled. Silva, who held onto her bench and clutched onto her pungi, glanced from one side to another, considering her next move.
"What... what just happened?" Ashen asked, followed by a sudden answer from Yche, without a shred of doubt in her voice:
"We're being attacked by Grimm."
"Are you... sure?" Reza questioned - before she could even receive an answer, however, all of their uncertainty was cleared up. The Nevermore let out a second, even more powerful screech, which, as the creature was now perched onto the first car of the train, rang across all of the compartments, forcing many of the passengers to cover their ears to protect themselves from the ear drum-popping sound. One after another, Beowolves and Ursas threw themselves onto the train, hitting the walls and the windows and shaking the vehicle with each slam.
"Back in Altar, there wasn't many people besides me to help protect the village, so I've kind of gotten a sixth sense for these freaks," Yche explained. The entire train compartment was in a panic - children were crying, families were cowering together, others were jumping off their seats and running towards the back of the train, foolishly expecting to be safer there.
Were they supposed to expect the train's Ranger guards to handle this? Were they supposed to panic with the rest of the crowd? Or...
Firre's eyes glanced to the rest of the team, then towards the passengers, briefly settling on Silva, who was doing everything she could to avoid eye contact with any of the quartet.
We don't even know how these Grimm slipped into the tunnel, how many there are, and... we don't have our weapons. Shit.
But that was no reason to quit. Firre planted his foot down and began handing out orders:
"First thing's first, we need to calm down everyone on board, minimise the negative emotions drawing Grimm, pick up the train's Ranger guards for support, and get our weapons back. Yche, Ashen, Reza, I'll leave this to you three. I am going to climb to the roof and delay the Grimm for as long as I can. Join me there when you're done and then we can finish them off."
"Aye-aye, Fee-Fee!" Ashen responded to the orders almost instantly and turned towards the back of the car, already departing towards where the train staff had ordered them to leave their weapons. Yche, on the other hand, was a little apprehensive - giving Firre a worried look, she replied:
"You sure you'll be fine up there?"
It was probably going to be quite a lot of Grimm, as they both imagined. After a second of pause, lost in thought, the prince nodded and answered:
"I will. Go, we need to move."
"Right..." Yche answered, then, with a shift of her foot, turned to the public and raised her voice to a loud boom only fitting of someone her size. "Alright, everyone! Please, calm down, the situation is under control!"
There was a narrow gap between their car and the one forward with a ladder that would be able to take Firre to the roof without much of an issue. Then, it would just be a matter of running to the fight as fast as-
"I'll help you!"
It was Silva - she suddenly jumped to her feet, her eyes sparkling with determination in a way that was so unlike of what he had experienced of the snake Faunus thus far that it genuinely took Firre aback. Not only that, but she spoke with actions as well as words - in between her palms, she folded the width of the pungi into its circular gourd, twisted it and then pulled out a blade instead, transforming the instrument into a slim basket-hilted sword.
Of course, her intentions were anything but benign. If I understand Miss Glaesa's plans correctly, she wants this incident to become a mark of horror in the Valean psyche, a tragedy which the people will blame on Mantle and thus head to war. If the prince dies in this confrontation... then tonight will be worth more than a thousand lives.
After a dissatisfied stare with narrowed eyes, and then a defeated sigh, Firre answered:
"Stay safe."
If he wouldn't enjoy being stopped himself if he wanted to go out and do a good thing against common sense, then what right does he have to deny this opportunity to someone else?
Another loud thud against the side of the train. No better sign to get going, and fast. Firre slid the exit of the train car open and then hopped up the gap, landing on the flat, slightly curved, and reddish rooftop with a brief slide from the momentum. Silva joined him, her leap up to the roof distinctly acrobatic - grabbing onto the edge of the roof and then pulling herself over with a brief spin in the air. The situation outside was... not good, as both fighters could instantly tell. The roofs ahead were crawling with Grimm who were pounding down on the metallic surface and the reinforced glass windows at the sides. A large Nevermore was still perched on the very front of the train - which, from Firre and Silva's perspective, was still four cars ahead.
And where are the-
"Oh, no..."
Aside from a handful of Grimm, two bodies were lying on the roof of the car just ahead of them - their weapons were dropped to the side and their green Ranger uniforms were bloodied and torn, although a few weak groans their ears could pick up informed that at least one of them were still hanging on by a thread.
No time to hesitate or think twice. Firre lunged forward, leaping over the gap between their car and the next, and then ran towards the two defeated soldiers. He clenched his right hand to a fist and began building up his Aura within it, then, ending his run with a slide, he suddenly sent it forward. First, a loud snap rang, then, a tree grew from the concrete walls of the tunnel with the speed of a fist, slamming into the nearest Beowolf. It crashed into the walls on the other side with a pained whelp and collapsed to the ground, soon passed by the train and vanishing into the distance.
Another Grimm jumped forward with a growl, its claws raised, but it struck nothing but air and the roof of the train car - Firre rolled back, into the gun left behind by the downed Ranger, which he immediately swept up. A rifled Dust musket, a standard issue ranged weapon for those who did not have the skill or time to build their own. A rather poor choice against a horde of Grimm... Well, let's play this roulette. Is it loaded?
Another swing by the wolf-like Grimm's meaty claws, this time forcing Firre to duck to the side - the tip of the claw barely hovered above his cheek. His right hand instinctively pulled the musket's hammer to half-cock, and then fired.
A powerful burst of combusting Dust tore through the creature's head and forced it stumbling back. Its body disintegrated into a cloud of black particles and flew away with the fierce wind.
Loaded.
Well, not anymore.
Not before long, a third Grimm charged forward - an Ursa, aiming to tackle the prince with its sheer size and weight. Past Firre, a blur sped past and then struck the creature right in the gut - it was Silva, who had just caught up to the fight and pierced into the Grimm with her sword. Pulling it out with a satisfying swish, she then grabbed onto the Ursa's shoulder and pushed herself upwards, taking to the air.
"Haaah!"
With a spirited scream, she stabbed her sword down to the Grimm's skull and then ran across its back, dragging her weapon with her until she cleaved it in half and hopped off. Much like its "brother", it disintegrated into dark particles.
Huh, she's... not a novice. She's definitely not just some runaway slave, then.
While Silva was handling the Grimm, Firre knelt down next to one of the Rangers and began rummaging through the pouch attached to his belt. Though the man had gotten slashed in the chest and was bleeding fast, he was still somewhat conscious and managed to mutter out:
"P... Prince Firre...?"
"Ah..." Firre briefly yelped in response. He wasn't in his royal uniform, no? And yet, even then, the first instinct after seeing that someone was protecting them was to focus on his lineage... as annoying as it was. Wait, what am I even worrying about? He's just stating a fact. After a brief head shake, he answered the Ranger. "Don't worry, you two are safe. Just stay down and don't move." From the pouch, he pulled out a paper cartridge, and then stepped away.
Just in time, as yet another Beowolf jumped at him - leaping over Silva, it sent both claws down at Firre. He answered with a back flip - all while, in the middle of the air, he pulled the paper cartridge to his teeth and ripped it open. Once he safely landed on his feet, with a brief slide, the Grimm's right arm crashed down in front of him, digging into the metal and getting stuck.
Perfect.
Firre ran up the arm while snapping the back of the musket open and pouring in the Dust powder from inside of the cartridge. Then, he bounced off the creature's head, slamming the weapon shut and locking it.
After a few grunts and growls, the Beowolf pulled its claw out of the roof and turned around, letting out a roar - until it was cut off by a Dust blast tearing through its chest. Firre fired behind himself without even bothering to look. A third cloud of particles was scattered by the wind rushing past the speeding train.
Silva shook her head to get herself back to her senses - watching the prince's musket play got her distracted for a few seconds and so she stood in the middle of the battle like an idiot. Okay, I think we've played enough.
Several of the Grimm had already been killed, but far from all - the rest of the pack, perched onto the train, were slowly approaching Firre - their growls, snarls and grunts saturated the air. The Nevermore spread its wings, screeching once more. The prince dropped the musket in his hands to the side and shifted to a defensive combat pose, pooling Aura in his arms in anticipation for the next offensive.
Watching each of his moves, even the slightest twitch, Silva sneaked up to him from behind. Simple assassination. All she needs to do is raise the sword, aim, and...
Suddenly, they both were thrown to the air by an unexpected push from below. The Nevermore flapped its wings and took off forward - the counter-reaction of such a heavy creature's take-off and momentum trembled the entire train, briefly throwing it upward and separating its wheels from the tracks below. Almost immediately, it landed back down with a clang, loud and painful to the bone. The Nevermore struck Firre and Silva in the air with its skull and flung them forward - they hit the roof of the train car and then rolled off the edge.
Wait, no, no- Silva screamed, utterly terrified. Her hat fell to the tunnel below, letting her short silver-coloured hair go free. The enormous wheels of the carriage, each one surely able to crush a person to mincemeat, were thundering right below her - yet she wasn't getting any closer to her certain death. Her body was flailing against the powerful wind, but not falling.
"H-huh...?"
She turned her eyes up. Firre, holding onto a grip installed against the wall of the train car, had grabbed her arm and was keeping her from falling.
Keeping her safe? Again? What's wrong with this guy? His head is not screwed tight.
The Nevermore touched down on their car, its bone-like claws piercing into the steel plates of the rooftop, and it let out another screech while reaching for the two fighters with its beak. Firre looked back at Silva.
She... wasn't sure how, but somehow, she was able to understand what the prince's expressionless determined face and the stare of his unnatural blue eyes into hers was telling her. That she had to get her sword ready.
Suddenly, Firre swung her upwards, throwing her straight at the Nevermore's face. Silva clutched onto the grip of her weapon with both hands, and, with a spirited yell, thrusted it into the gap between its neck and left wing - forcing out a monstrous shriek. Firre pulled himself back onto the car roof and stretched out both hands forward - commanded by gestures of his fingers, two trees grew out from the tunnel walls ahead of the train, merging into one another. Once the train sped past them, the horizontal wood trunk smacked the Nevermore against the head, throwing it down and tossing Silva off its shoulder.
Good, but not satisfactory. Neither of us have the firepower to take such a large Grimm down. Silva's sword doesn't have the cutting power to slice it open, and the best I can do is smack it around. The most we can do is jump around it and whittle it down, but not in a battlefield as precarious as this...
Silva landed next to Firre, her boots sliding across the steel rooftop and letting out a sharp screech. Slowly, the Nevermore was rising back to full height, and several smaller Grimm ran past its feathery wings, lunging towards the two fighters. The Faunus' eyes settled on her "teammate". She got interrupted, but now that they were distracted by the Grimm attack, there was no better time than now to finish the job. So, she tossed the sword to her other hand and raised it for a seemingly inconspicuous swing.
Before she could strike the unsuspecting prince, however, a blast of Dust shot past the gap between them, startling Silva and getting Firre to glance behind him - it tore through the nearest of the attacking Grimm and disintegrated it.
Yche's loud chuckle followed. She stood a car behind the two, with her trusted hammer in her hands - the butt end was pointed, revealing that the handle was, in fact, a hollowed tube that could be jammed with Dust and used as a powerful one-time hand cannon blast. Ashen leapt out from the hatch and immediately activated her Aura wings, Reza followed her, and three more Rangers crawled out after them.
"Missed us?" Ashen yelled, flying forward and tossing Firre's sword at him along the way - his eyes were focusing on Silva, but he immediately turned around as soon as he heard his teammate call and caught the weapon. Ashen, meanwhile, continued past them, ramming her spear into the nearest Grimm with immense speed and picking the wolf-like creature up from the rooftop. Narrowly brushing past the wings of the flying Nevermore, she squashed the Grimm into the ceiling of the tunnel, where it, grinded down by the cement rapidly passing by, disintegrated into particles.
Yche leapt past Firre next, slamming her hammer down on an Ursa and squeezing its skull underneath the heavy head of the weapon. She followed it with an elbow strike and then a few rapid hammer swings, the handle spinning between her arms and the weapon striking the Grimm from several directions until it finally dissipated as well. She raised the hammer up, and Firre leapt onto it before springing off to stab his sword down onto another Grimm. The blade tore through its skull and chest, and it flailed for only a few more seconds before it too faded with the wind.
"Alright! Nevermore, now!" he yelled as soon as his feet dropped to the surface.
Tightly clutching onto her sword with both hands in fear, Silva made a worried step backwards. I see. It's over...
"On it!" Reza yelled from behind and ran forward, already searching her backpack for arrows and pulling out three - each one was tipped with a purple Dust crystal. The Nevermore continued chasing after Ashen, trying to catch the flier with its beak and then sending forth a flurry of talons from its wing, flying forward like an arrow barrage - as it attacked, however, Reza struck one, second and then third of the arrows with her crossbow. The Rangers standing beside her raised their muskets and opened fire, unleashing a salvo of shots upon its pitch-black body. The Grimm barely got time to let out a shriek before the Dust of the bolts activated and sent it crashing onto the roof of one of the train cars with accelerated gravity.
"Ashen!" Firre yelled and leapt to the sky. Above the Nevermore, they passed one another and then both struck down onto the Grimm's neck - Ashen with her spear, to pin it down, and Firre with his sword, right next to her. They only had a few seconds before the effects of Gravity Dust wear off, so, he immediately went to work. Both of his hands grabbed onto the grip and he ran forward while tearing a longer and longer cut over the creature's back. Then the gut and the abdomen... and finally, with a triumphant sweep of his blade, he leapt off and landed on his knee behind the Grimm.
Cleaved in half, it too lost its shape and was swept up by the passing wind, like a cloud of ashes. For the first time since the initial shake of the train, a silence set across the tunnel.
"Is... that all?" one of the Rangers, a dark-haired woman, asked, briefly glancing from side to side in concern.
"Seems to be." Firre answered, bluntly, and lowered his sword. Just from the tone alone, his teammates could tell that something wasn't right - if they couldn't already tell.
Such a large Grimm attack on a train in a sealed, well protected tunnel was... really unlikely to take place all on its own. Bad luck alone could not explain what happened. Grimm aren't so organized as to break through reinforced tunnel walls all together, they don't have the intelligence for that... so they must have found a way to sneak into the tunnel in some other way.
"Well... all in a day's work, I guess," Ashen said, while her wings disintegrated. "We should thank you too... uh..." She began looking around, searching through the faces around her, and grew increasingly confused, which prompted Reza to ask:
"Who are you talking to?"
"Silvee, obviously. She... was here when we came here from below, wasn't she? Where did she go?"
I had my eyes on her right before I charged at that Grimm. My mind even made a note that she had lost her hat... Yet, among the Rangers, that scale-faced girl with that grey jacket was not.
Firre broke the silence as soon as he approached the ladder leading back down to the inside of the train. "She's not here. Don't bother looking. She was trying to kill me."