Chapter 2 – Starting at the End

In which Cardin Winchester burgles a h̶o̶u̶s̶e̶ castle and hotwires a c̶a̶r̶ airship.


On the one hand, any old-fashioned, medieval style, Color Wars era spooky haunted castle in the middle of no man's land had to be full of serial killer Grimm worshippers.

On the other hand, Cardin had no way to go back – he'd lost track of the ravine and his locker in the heat of the chase, and it wasn't like either of those things were truly essential to him. This castle probably had food, water, shelter, and maybe even some way to get back to civilization. After all, it was the only standing structure for miles, and it was in good shape. That meant it wasn't the remains of some long-gone civilization that was in ruins, so someone had to have built it for a reason. Whatever reason that was didn't matter as much as the fact that whoever built it had to have had some kind of transport to and from civilization to import supplies.

It had to be still active – otherwise, there wouldn't be a fresh pile of trash outside with food that hadn't even started to decompose. Someone was in there.

I don't really wanna meet someone cooky enough to build a house out here in the Grimm sticks, but what other choice do I have?

He'd at least be smart about it. Storming the place like a raving lunatic would get him no closer to home. First things came first – he'd scout it out, watch the place for a few hours to see if anyone came in or out or if the Grimm somehow reacted to its presence. Again, someone had to have built this, which meant they somehow had the means to hold the Grimm back when it was constructed. That meant they either somehow snuck over more hunters than were in all of Sanus and Anima combined…or they…

were invisible to Grimm? The guy on Arc's team, the only one who wasn't a raging loser had some kind of semblance like that. Or maybe they control Grimm? Or they found some way to turn off their negative emotions? I got no clue.

Well, there was only one way to find out.


A great man like Cardin shouldn't have been forced to eat trash and scrounge through the scraps, but a great man like Cardin also didn't appreciate an empty stomach, so it seemed like a fair trade off.

He decided to spend one day staking out the castle before making his way in. It was probably smart or something to wait it out longer, but Cardin figured the Grimm might find him before then. Every second spent in this hellscape was a risk, and one full day was already pushing it.

He wasn't entirely sure what he was expecting to witness. If he saw hunters come out to cull the Grimm nearby, that meant the castle was probably manned by some decent folks, or at least sane folks. If he saw human-Grimm hybrids come out to wash the windows, he'd run for the hills and try again later.

The dump did give him a few hints that clued him in to the normalcy of the castle's residents. Remains from food suggested that humans lived in their, not some evolved Grimm or something. Could have been Faunus, also – they were pretty far from Menagerie, but those animals were like rats, scurrying from continent to continent to infest it with their presence, and he wouldn't have put it past them to seek out the Grimm themselves for neighbors.

It probably wasn't Faunus, though. Cardin found some empty shampoo bottles and soap boxes and stuff, and he'd never known those animals to have good sense of hygiene.

It's different for me, though, digging through the trash and eating it. I'm only doing it to survive, whereas those scavengers like that.

There were certainly signs of training – spent shell casings, depleted Dust crystals (Cardin hadn't know they were able to be drained, but the Dust didn't do anything when he tried to use it), shredded training dummies and targets, all sorts of things. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. On the one hand, that meant they weren't at peace with the Grimm or something. On the other, that meant the castle's occupants were dangerous.

Buried beneath a thin layer of grime and silt were the remains of a few old scrolls – several editions outdated and none working, but familiar enough to Cardin that he could recognize the ubiquitous devices from their general outline alone. That gave him hope – when someone threw away their old electronics, it was almost always a sign they'd bought newer models that Cardin could either borrow or steal to call home.

Assuming I can even get a signal…though, if the castle people have scrolls, they probably use them for something, and I doubt it's mobile gaming.

Some stuff didn't give him much to work with: oil-drenched rags, broken mechanical tools, Haven banners, and even depleted tins of mustache oil.

Ironically, the one thing he couldn't find in the refuse was a belt.

"Guess that means you'll be with me for a tad longer, eh?" Cardin asked the Centinel around his waist.

"CSSSSCSSSSCSSS!"

It responded by chittering in what Cardin assumed was indignant fury. Heh – stupid thing. Cardin would never get himself captured by the enemy like that, and if, on the odd chance that he was, he certainly wouldn't become someone's garments.


After ensuring there were no signs of life for about a day and getting a good night's sleep, Cardin decided to make his way into the castle.

It was at that point that he realized he probably should have spent that day thinking up some crafty way to get up the walls and into the castle rather than digging through the trash and relaxing, but hindsight was twenty-twenty.

"Time to use the old noggin."

The castle itself was made up of a buttload of Dust crystals that surrounded it on all sides. Dust would immediately activate the second he cut into it, which ruled out using The Executioner to cave some holes in and rock climb his way up. Rope was one of the other things not present in the trash heap (maybe searching for a belt hadn't been a complete waste), so there would be neither grappling hooks nor rappelling. The rocket locker might have been able to fly him up if he went back to get it and filled it with Dust, but that would take way too long, make too much noise, and be impossible, since he forgot where he left it.

Guess the castle's my only choice from now on.

"You got any ideas?" Cardin asked his hissing belt.

"LRSSSSLRSSSSLRSSS!"

It did not.

Cardin looked back at the Dust forest he'd come out of. Maybe it would be better to chance the Grimm plains again, since standing around here doing nothing was–

"Gods above, I'm such an idiot."

Dust ignited when it was disturbed too violently, but the Dust was purple. Gravity Dust, same as the kind he'd used in the forest. Cardin could just harvest a sample, apply it like he had back before, and float his way up.

He wasn't exactly sure how the mechanism of the Dust worked to turn off gravity, but he thought he had a decent idea of how to utilize it to get him where he needed to go. Pounding the crystals seemed to release or burst out into some sort of antigravity zone, and it was amplified by the presence of other crystals, even if they were unbroken. Again, he wasn't entirely sure of the physics behind it – Cardin was a fighter, not a thinker. Still, in theory, if he snapped one of the little ones from the forest next to the castle, he should be able to use their juice to float right up.

His last meal consisted of the finer scraps of rubbish he could dig out of the pile, just in case he got up into the castle and didn't find anything. It felt unlikely, but when the alternative was a painfully rumbling stomach, it didn't hurt to err on the safe side. Cardin was a growing huntsman, after all.

After carefully excavating the e̶a̶r̶t̶h̶y Remnanty soil around the crystal to make sure it didn't snap prematurely and let out all the floaty power too early, Cardin carried the sucker over to the tower. Double-checking that he had his mace, his scroll, and his belt, he snapped it and turned off the gravity.

It was at that point that Cardin realized he had no way to turn the gravity back on.

He floated right up to what looked like a front door with sticking out walking balcony around it, only for it to suddenly be beneath him. Flapping his hands through the air, he managed to push himself close enough to one of the more grabbable larger Dust crystals before he floated out of the range of the windows.

Shimmying down, he paused to glance inside the windows. No one had come out, but that didn't mean there was no one inside. Cardin had marathon 'Mistrilian cartoon' binge watching sessions in his youth where he didn't exit his room for days on end, so it was possible the castle's owners were–

Holy Mother of Lagune!

A tentacled Grimm sphere float by inside the window. Cardin's breath stilled.

This castle hadn't been built in spite of all the Grimm around it. It had been built by all the Grimm around it.

Then a mustached celery stalk of a man in a sharp suit walked by, trailing after the tentacle Grimm ball as it floated through the corridor.

Wait, that thing is clearly a Grimm. Why isn't it killing him?

Cardin didn't get an answer as he watched the back of the skinny britches man disappear. With nothing else to do but slide his way down, he ditches the floaty Dust and dropped down to his knees. The man may have been gone, but those octopus Q-ball Grimm would pass through the halls every now and again, and he had no idea if they could see or not. Crawling beneath the level of the windowsill, he made his way to the door.

Cardin watched the orbies go and counted the time in between their passing. It seemed like one came by every thirty seconds or so.

If I time this right, I can smash the door, slip in, close it behind me, and sneak into a side room before they even realize something's up.

The Grimm were exclusively making the rounds through the large hallway, and none seemed to be checking any of the deep purple doors that lined the hall. If he rushed the very second one disappeared, he might be able to make it. Speed had never been his forte, but unless he wanted to try floating up another Dust crystal and trying his luck on the backdoor, this was his only way in.

Hmmmm…maybe I actually should pause here and think things through. I rushed into the Gravity Dust floating, and I nearly passed right by the entrance.

If I smash open the door, the Grimm will see it and go to red alert. I can force the lock to have less of a visible impact, but it won't hold up to any scrutiny. Is there any other way I can get in? I doubt there's a key under the mat…

Wait a sec.

We're in the middle of nowhere. Is there even a key?

Cardin pressed his hand to the door. It opened a crack.

Wow. I really am some sort of next level genius.


The patrols didn't stop, but without any resistance, Cardin was able to sneak right into the first room without leaving a trace in less than four seconds.

It was someone's bedroom, though it was pretty barebones for living conditions. A ginormous bed, a toilet behind a curtain, and a single dresser cabinet – whoever lived in this crib really took the whole 'spartan conditions' thing to the next level.

Something tells me this place doesn't belong to Mr. Well-Groomed Mustache Oil…

Cardin checked out the cabinet out of idle curiosity, and to see if maybe the room's resident had a belt.

No such luck. There were a few military green drawstring vests and some rugged pants, but nothing to hold either together. A bunch of Dust crystals were present, of all colors but only a single size – roughly as big as a toilet paper tube, and similarly dimensioned. Cardin was about to turn one of the shirts into a makeshift sack and shovel a few in when he saw the last item inside the dresser, making him pause.

It was a framed photograph of a young woman. She was probably no older than he was. Her brunette hair fell down to her shoulders, but she was a petit thing – probably only about two thirds of Cardin's height.

The most striking thing about this was her face. She was dressed in hunter garb and seated on a Beacon bullhead, but her smile wasn't that of someone being shipped off to war. She looked so joyous, so full of hope and life and love. The expression she wore was the kind of thing that screamed 'It's going to be okay' as though she wanted it to be loud enough for everyone in the world who needed to hear that. Beautiful in a physical sense though she may have been, there was no doubt that the true beauty was her spirit.

Cardin picked up the photo to get a closer look at the teenaged girl. He met her broad smile with a grin of his own.

"Nice pair of tits."

Dropping the framed photograph onto the floor, he crammed as much of the Dust into the stolen shirt, fitting a few smaller crystals into his pockets. Stealing was a sin and all that, but if anyone lived out alone in the Grimmlands and communed with the local wildlife, they probably deserved to have their stuff robbed, big boobied GF or not.

Once Cardin had taken a dump, there wasn't much else to the room to hold his attention. He had no idea if there were any Grimm orbs floating by outside, but the only way to tell would be to open the door a crack. That would give him away, defeating the whole point. Thus, Cardin breached as quickly as he could and slipped into the next door over.

He got lucky. Nothing was out there when he made his dash.

This one was somehow even more empty. No bed, no closet, not toilet – just a singly hastily thrown overcoat strewn on the floor.

Oh, and the walls were scratched with claw marks three quarters of the way to oblivion.

Nope. No way am I waiting for the serial killer who lives here to come back and murder my face.

Waiting thirty seconds from when he'd entered (See? Cardin could be smart…), Cardin switched into the next room without bumping into any bowling ball squids.

This room had…

Cardin nearly wet himself in excitement.

This room had food.

There was other stuff too – a ton of wallets piled up, a stack of modern looking scrolls, keychains hanging up on the walls from thumbtacks – but Cardin breezed right over that junk, going straight to the buffet that awaited him. It was a cabinet, the same variety as the first room's one, but this one was open and had been fixed up to have three planks of wood make it a triple decker shelf. All three shelves were lined with the most unhealthy, un-nutritious, heart stopping, greasy assortment of snacks imaginable. Chips, animal jerky, bags of cheesy popcorn, flat soda – it was a teenagers' dream come true.

Cardin lost track of time as he gorged himself silly on all the wonderful junk food. After having nothing but the scraps of a trash heap to fill his empty stomach, this was wonderland.

When the five-course meal was done, Cardin opened up his improvised bindle and loaded up the leftovers.

Now that he was done with the important stuff, Cardin perused the rest of the room's contents. There was probably only enough lien chips within the wallets to buy a hand-me-down sword and shield, but the sheer number of wallets made Cardin wonder if it was even about the lien. Just standing in the room made him want to check his pants for pickpocketing.

In the end, he left all the cash behind. It wasn't really something he needed – his family was well off enough – and he needed to prioritize survival. He did swipe a few scrolls, though, in case he needed to make a call. As expected, though, no service.

Now that he'd gotten what he'd come here for, Cardin decided to hold off on the looting for a bit and see if he could pop out of this place real quick. Mustache man had to own one of these rooms, and Cardin wasn't looking forward to that meet cute if he came back home. He still wasn't gay, by the way.

Cardin flicked open the door and found himself face to face with one of the octopus things.


SMASH!

Cardin barreled down the corridor after crushing that thing. The octopus things didn't seem that dangerous, but a huntsman like him could easily tell that they were patrolling the building, doing the rounds. That meant that they either could telepathically communicate with one another or had some way to signal that something was up. Either way, he wasn't going to stick around.

Another Grimm ball came around the corner, confirming his theory that he'd set off an alarm, since it was moving the wrong direction. Cardin threw caution to the wind and mowed it down with a roar, then rounded the corner it had come from. He'd come to a fork in the hallway, with both ways requiring him to go down flights of stairs. He glanced to the left, caught sight of the clawed tips of a tentacle twirling through the air, and flung himself down to the right.

It proved to be the right call, as there were no Grimm at the bottom. The fact that there were not now didn't mean there wouldn't be soon, so Cardin picked himself up and continued to hustle through the snaking corridor.

This entire place looked like it was built from the raw materials of the surrounding wilderness. Now that he'd made it past the crew quarters, there were far fewer doors, but infinitely more forking paths. Cardin followed them, taking the right at every turn since that direction had served him so well before. Besides, he'd read somewhere that a mouse in a maze could get to the cheese if it stuck to one of the walls and turned right always.

This mouse wasn't getting jack diddly squat, though, as he realized after a few minutes of running that he was going around in circles after noticing a dropped Dust crystal that had slipped out of his burglar bag. Deciding to branch out, he nervously followed a pathway to the left this time.

It led him to a tall wooden door. If this place was a castle, Cardin guessed that this would be the grand hall. Before he went in, Cardin put his ear up to the door, unsure of what he was expecting to hear since the octopus balls floated silently.

"…of knowledge has at least one question left, perhaps more."

"Excellent work, Doctor."

The first voice had to come from mustache homie – Cardin's feet could practically slip in the polished veneer that was dripping off the guy. Whoever he was talking to sounded like they were gargling woodchips. I guess the doctor's got just as poor a signal as the others scrolls do.

Cardin peeked through the crack in the door.

The doctor guy wasn't using a scroll.

"Have there been any developments on the determination of the location of Spring?" said the creepy face in the octopus ball.

"None, ma'am. I will inform you the second we have anything to act upon."

"See that you do. There can be no delays. The relic of knowledge is by far the most critical, as it can provide us with the locations of any other relic or maiden."

Mustache bro straightened out his back. "As you command. Haven Academy shall not provide a problem, given our 'in.' In the meantime, I can provide you with an update as to the progress I have made in completing the CCT virus."

"Perhaps you could first update me on the progress of the Seers towards capturing the intruder. Have they been found?"

"Intru–?"

Cardin felt like that was his cue to hightail it.


The orb monsters were swarming the place as he tried to make his way out. Cardin had three near run-ins before he came face to face with one of them. It didn't make noise or anything, but it did try to reach out and grip his throat. It got three long paws around before Cardin managed to pop its brains out onto the floor with the spiked butt of his mace.

The delay it caused him was enough for Corporal Nosehairs to close the distance between them, but Cardin managed to dip into some rec center-looking place before the footsteps caught up. He threw himself behind some weapons rack and held his breath.

The sound of a door bursting open filled his ears, along with a triumphant, "Aha–!"

Mustache man must have been expecting Cardin to have been right out in the open, because a string of expletives came next.

"I know you're in here," he announced, his voice polished and refined in a way that only decades of snobbery could bring. Then, in a quieter tone, "Fan out and find him."

The Grimm jellyfish things made no noise, but Cardin could practically feel them float through the place.

I need to think. I'm barely even hidden, and they're gonna find me and overwhelm me if I don't get outta dodge right this instant.

Cardin kneeled out a little bit and scanned the walls for some other doors, but there was nothing else. This room consisted of a large training mat, a bunch of things that Cardin assumed was some evil obstacle course, and his fat butt, presently disguised as the back of a shelf loaded with knives and guns.

The room is wide, but there are only so many hiding spots. I won't last if I don't–

A tentacle wrapped around his neck from behind, causing him to sputter for a second before getting it under control. Cardin felt painful lashes sweep along his back, all the way down to the backs of his thighs as the little thing tried to whip him. He bit his tongue to prevent himself from screaming, raised his aura as quickly as he could to both protect and heal his back, slipped some fingers under the Grimm appendage around his throat, and yanked. It ripped right off, giving Cardin a much-needed gasp of air.

No sooner had he freed himself than another one attacked, this time from the front. It whirled around on its vertical axis like a chick wearing a dress and twirling it, spinning the tentacles to whip him. The gross blobs were weak individually, but as three more showed up, he began to feel a sense of dread kick in.

A bullet bounced off the front of the weapons rack he was hiding (poorly) behind.

"Come out and die, huntsman. You can't escape me."

The next shot ricocheted off the floor and knocked a Grimm, but it was getting harder and harder to fight them as they stabbed at him from all angles. Hunched over like he was, it would be impossible to smoosh them with The Executioner at such close ranges, so Cardin was forced to fight hand to hand. Unfortunately for him, tearing off the arms didn't kill these things, even though it did make them float a little lopsided.

"Gotcha!"

His foot must have slid out from behind the cover enough for Mustache Man to see it, for a shot caught him in the heel. Cardin grit his teeth and pulled the foot back, popping a Grimm between his palms. The voice was getting closer, but he must've been walking at a leisurely pace. Why shouldn't he? Whoever this guy was, he clearly had Cardin at a major disadvantage.

More tenacles snaked around his arms and began to constrict, and Cardin felt his arms grow numb. They weren't instantly made ineffective, but he knew that even aura couldn't protect him from the pressure they were putting on his blood flow, and he would be paralyzed in less than a minute if he didn't do something.

Then, suddenly, the pressure was off him, and Cardin felt his arms fall free. Massaging his limbs, he didn't take the opportunity for granted. Punching a Grimm with all his might, he sent it flying across the room. Cardin was about to sock the next one when a curious sight met his eyes.

"OSSSSSSOSSSSSOSSSSS!"

The tiny belt Centinel must have somehow come free, because it was currently crawling on top of the other Grimm. It moved in a very peculiar manner, with each of its twenty or so legs moving one after to other to give it perfect fluid motion. It eerily slid like a snake atop its brethren, crawling around it in circles.

Cardin looked down to see that his pants were indeed fallen. Guess I die without dignity.

The confusing lack of death, however, countered that notion. Cardin looked back to see that the orbies were…falling out of the sky?

It seemed like Belt-Bro was gnawing off their tentacles with its mandibles as it glided across them, moving and disarming them far more efficiently than Cardin ever had. When the tentacles were severed and the Grimm balloons began to descend, it simply crawled across to the next one over – they were certainly close enough due to their tight-packedness that it didn't need to jump.

Why's it doing that? It's not like it wants to help me or anything.

Well, it was wrapped around my waist. Maybe it was unhappy with being lashed by the other Grimms tentacles as collateral damage and decided to even the playing field.

Maybe I should stop overthinking this and get back to fighting back.

A bullet spilt the contents of another Grimm ball's brain-stomachs on the ground, and the Centinel tumbled off. Cardin eyes inadvertently followed it flight path and saw it land on something that looked like a metal ring.

Wait a sec, is that a – it is!

"Come out, come out, wherever you–"

Cardin pushed the weapons rack over onto Mustache Man, who was probably right behind it. The clatter of blades falling was followed by more grumbling curses, informing Cardin that it hadn't been fatal.

His goal wasn't to kill the guy, though. The Executioner swept out wide as Cardin rose to his feet, sending the Grimm balloons floating backwards in space to avoid his rampaging swung.

In the two spare milliseconds that bought him, Cardin scooped up his living belt, raised open the hatch to the trapdoor, slipped down it, and slammed it closed. Several wriggling tentacles made it through the cracks on the sides, but none were strong enough individually to lift up the door. The Grimm might have been able to do it together as a team effort, but their motions were uncoordinated and thus unable to get in. Cardin turned his back and hauled his rear out of there as they began to paw at the hinges.

"Nice wor– ow! Hey!"

"ISSSSSSISSSSSISSSSS!"

With a roll of his eyes, he put the insubordinate article back in its place below his stomach as he ran.

Cardin had no idea where he was running, but he figured that most, if not all, of the Grimm in the castle had probably been called in when Mustache Man had cornered him just now. If they were all behind him, that meant there wouldn't be all that many in front of him. It was the perfect time to get away from this hellhole.

He'd lost the snacks, but he still had a few scrolls, so he hadn't come out of this empty handed. Going back for more would be too dangerous now that the alarm had been sounded, so Cardin decided to cut his losses and look for a way out.

Most of the doors were dead ends in the dark, sub-level corridors he was running through, but then a miracle descended from the heavens to bless Cardin with the Gods' love. Stepping through one door, he was bathed in – well, not sunlight because this place was cloudier than Solitas in a snowstorm, but he was outdoors, so that was a win.

And not only was he outdoors – Cardin was surrounded by bullheads.

The door he'd stepped out of had led him to some sort of raised loading bay. It branched out to five elevated boardwalks, each with a docked airship some 100 feet above the natural ground.

Cardin wasted no time and nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste to get to the closest one.

Locked? No!

"CSSSSSCSSSSSCSSSSS!"

"You and me both, mate."

His hope faltered as he tried the other four to equal results. He'd come out all this way and had gotten so close to victory, but it was pulled away just when he got a taste.

It wasn't fair. Here he was, standing outside a fleet of escape vehicles but with no way to use them. Maybe he could force the door, but Cardin wasn't exactly some kind of expert at hotwiring military-grade vehicles. Without a key, he was–

Keys…the pickpocket's room had a whole wall of them.


See ya later, suckers.

Cardin waved goodbye to the Grimm balloons as they all raced over towards the source of his rigged disturbance. He'd rigged a crude Fire Dust IED using the crystal he'd stolen from that room with the photo of sugar tits (the ones that were in his pocket; he'd lost the rest). It exploded when he was nearly at the top of the castle.

Cardin was a huntsman. He may not have been a genius, but he was at least smart enough to know that security would have been doubled, hence the need for a diversion to pull them all away. As he used some more harvested Gravity Dust to float over the tower and access the other side, Mustache Moron and his Grimm posse were going on a wild Nevermore chase at the base of the castle opposite the rooms he'd first gone into.

Discarding the purple crystal, Cardin quickly slid down the large Dust pillars, using his aura to protect his hands lest the sharp facets cut them up. As he suspected, the entire armed forces of the castle were gone, or at least enough of them for him to slip into pickpocket's room, steal all her keys (did it count as stealing if they were probably already stolen), and make his way out of there.

Before he did, though, Cardin paused. This room was a cluttered mess of hoarding, and its resident was clearly some shifty eyed thief. A hunch told him that there might be a nice reward if he quickly checked around a little longer.

He was almost immediately proven right; beneath the bed, he found another secret stash of snacks, this time slightly smaller than the first. Mister Thief must've been one hungry fellow. He also found a few more drinks, some duct tape, some out-of-date meds, and a small knife. Cardin snatched them all.

With the random hodgepodge was a piece of paper.

Dear Cinder,

Shall I compare thee to an open flame? I shall. Thee are like an open flame, and not solely because thee are hot AF. My love for you runs deeper than a flesh wound, deeper than the undersea caverns in which Leviathans nest…

Yada yada yada, boring half-finished love letter stuff. Cardin tossed it aside. It didn't matter to him if Mister Thief was into some Cinder woman, but he couldn't care less.

There was one last item that did interest him: a Haven student ID.

"So, who's the bloke who's writing love letters out in the Grimmlands?"

Emerald Sus…oh.

"Heh. Hot."

Cardin pocketed the ID, just in case he needed it later on. It was unlikely that it would come in handy, but it at least was more valuable than the love letter.

Sneaking his way out the window he'd come in, Cardin snapped his other Gravity Dust crystal and floated up the face of the mountain once more. He wondered idly if this place was a castle built into the face of a geological formation, or if they'd intentionally built the giant mound along with the castle. Mustache Man had been calling Grimm lady on the tele-Grimm, which meant that she was likely some Grimm human intermediary. She clearly knew that Cardin was in the castle before Mustache Man did, meaning that she was hooked up to the orbies telepathically.

She also did look quite a bit younger than him. Was he her dad? Did he get it on with a Beowolf? First lesbians, now Grimm-bangers. Is this castle some kinda kinky sex dungeon? I best spring before the orbies try to tenacle me in the…ew.

When he got to the apex of the spires, he looked down to see the orbies flopping about like fish on land. Cardin smirked; his IED had evidently gotten to the Gravity Dust he'd rigged to blow on a scroll timer, which had messed up their flight paths just a touch. He'd seen how bad off they were when they lost a single tenacle, and he was right to bet that Dust force-fields would mess them up something fierce. Even Mustache Man was floating a few feet in the air. Cardin couldn't make out his expression from here, but he imagined the guy was pissed.

Serves you right for teaming up with the Grimm. Anyhoo, now's my time to jet – literally.

Sliding down again, he lined himself up with the bullhead docks. It wasn't from memory; Cardin had only floated all the way to the top so that he could see everything from above and make his way down using the visuals of where his target was.

The five bullheads were still there. Cardin chose the closest one and began to cycle through his twice stolen keys to see if any of them worked.

The first one he tried was a blue triangular fob that had no buttons or other things to push. When it didn't work, Cardin threw it over the side of the cliff to keep it separate from the other keys he hadn't yet tried.

The second one he tried was a long, black cylindrical fob, probably about the thickness of a whiteboard marker, but only half as long. It was unsuccessful as well. Cardin raised his arms to chuck it when the sight of the other bullheads caught his eye.

What am I doing? If those keys don't work on this one, they might…arrrrrgh!

Desperately hoping he hadn't thrown away a good key with the first blue one, Cardin set his second fob down into a new pile and set about meticulously trying each and every key, one at a time.


The black disk.

Nope.

The blue two-pronged fork.

Nope.

The reddish-brown rectangle.

Nope. Better not drop that one; it'd blend fight into the soil.

The black chunky rectangle.

CC-CLCK.

Cardin froze.

Gently placing a hand on the bullhead's door handle, he lightly tugged. It opened up.

"WH – er, whoo."

His declaration of joy was tempered by the knowledge that the gravity trap had probably worn off on Mustache Man and the orbies. Cardin pocketed the keyfob, slipped into the airship as quietly as possible, and closed the door behind him.

Piloting was something he knew how to do, at least sufficiently. He'd trained in enough simulators to have the basics for take-off, auto-pilot, and landing. Giving the stick a yank, he set the auto take-off sequence to on and entered a cruising altitude of 5,000 feet – enough to get above the clouds and obscure himself from the flying Grimm. Nevermores and Gryphons would see this baby coming a mile away if he didn't, and they'd probably be pretty enthusiastic for the only human entertainment they'd ever seen in the Grimmlands.

"Now, let's see where we are…"

The map said the closest city was – Mistral?! How far had he veered off course? Cursing his poor luck, Cardin set the autopilot parameters. Going straight to Vale would be better, but he had no idea if this thing had been fueled up or not. The pit crew was probably some Deathstalkers with oil cans strapped to their heads, so he'd have to get by with whatever reserves were in the tank. If Mistral was closest, it was Mistral where he was going.

I can catch a commercial flight to Vale. Mistral's got banks that I can make a withdrawal from.

The engines rumbled to life, as did the internal systems. Pressure and life support, radar, weapons, even air conditioning.

Hold on a second…

Cardin leaned over his shoulder and looked out the mirror. Here was a Grimm castle, manned by orbies, run by a greasy human beholden to Mrs. Grimm herself. Cardin may have been fleeing for his life, but he was still a huntsman. Bringing down the castle was outside of his abilities, but he could at least strand its villainous resident.

"Enjoy digging through the trash, Mustache Man."

Cardin set the weapons systems to lock onto the other bullheads and readied a full missile barrage. Simulators hadn't taught him how to do that; videogames had.


tl;dr Arthur Watts tragically dies of starvation when Cardin destroys his only way back to civilization


Next Chapter: Too Early for a Title Drop

In which Cardin Winchester loses his cool and wins a new friend.


Author's Notes

This may be the end of Watts, but it's only the beginning of the grand mystery.

Salem was just out for a walk, by the way, doing Grimm stuff or something. She'd left her trusty steward Arthur Watts in charge.

Neither Gretchen nor Emerald are treated properly by Cardin…so sad. He'll eventually have a redemption arc, but not until he at least returns to civilization and can have character growth with other people around him. It was fun to imagine what could be in the villains rooms, though, especially Emerald. In my mind, she hoards food even though she doesn't need to, out of fear of the floor being pulled out from under her, and she also stores her ill-gotten gains of compulsive theft in her room. Perfect plunder for Cardin, of course.

Happy rats, and don't do crime!