Chapter 12: The Twilight Dragon Tavern

The laboratory doors parted open for Dr. Watts as he stood outside the dimly lit hallway, engrossed in his tablet. His eyes, sharp and calculating, flicked across the screen as he reviewed the latest results of the serum he was developing—an improved version of G-27. This serum, synthesized from the blood of Grimm, was intended to be a more effective enhancement for the Empire's human recruits, boosting their strength and coordination to surpass that of the Alliance forces. The challenge was to make the serum equally compelling for their Faunus soldiers without triggering the mutations plaguing past experiments.

Dr. Watts approached the containment cell, where his new test subject—a Faunus—was strapped to a dissection table. The Faunus struggled futilely against the restraints as two Grimm troopers finished securing him. The metallic clinks of the restraints echoed in the sterile lab, mingling with the hum of machinery.

"Doctor, we are ready to commence the experiment," one of the Grimm scientists reported his voice tight with anticipation.

Dr. Watts allowed himself a smirk. "Good. Let's hope this marks the end of our misfortunes with the previous experiments."

"If our hypothesis holds, the new variants in the serum should not affect their animal genes," the scientist continued, with a hint of hope. "This could finally provide us with the perfect Faunus soldier for the Empire."

Watts turned to face the containment cell, his curiosity piqued. He shared the scientist's high hopes, though his satisfaction remained guarded. G-27 had worked wonders for the Empire's human soldiers, but the side effects—especially now with rumors of the so-called Beast lurking in Asben Hallow—had become an increasing nuisance.

"Well then, let's not delay further," Dr. Watts said, pressing the comm link on the control panel. "Commence the experiment."

Below, one of the Grimm troopers loaded a small serum pod into an injection gun and approached the restrained Faunus. The subject's eyes widened with fear, his breathing quick and shallow, as the needle pierced the side of his neck. He gasped in pain as the serum entered his bloodstream, glowing with an eerie, pulsating purple light. His body convulsed against the restraints, veins bulging under his skin as the serum worked its way through him.

Dr. Watts watched the subject's vital signs spike on his tablet. Stress levels were elevated, as expected, but so far, no mutations or irregularities had appeared. He leaned closer, his eyes narrowing with intense focus.

"Hmm, nothing of note so far," Watts remarked, his voice tinged with impatience. "Are there any changes to their DNA code?"

His colleague checked the monitor displaying the subject's DNA. The serum's cells were latching onto the subject's DNA strands, but the animal genes appeared untouched. The modifications seemed to be working.

"The serum doesn't seem to be affecting their animal genes, but it's too early to draw conclusions," the scientist cautioned. "The injection is only fifty percent complete. We should wait until it fully encompasses their body."

Dr. Watts nodded, his gaze fixed on the struggling Faunus. The minutes dragged on, and tension thickened in the room. Finally, the serum completely overtook the subject's bloodstream, the purple glow spreading through his veins like a network of eerie, pulsing rivers. To Watts' satisfaction, the Faunus showed no signs of the usual side effects.

"It would appear the experiment was a success," Dr. Watts proclaimed, a rare note of triumph in his voice.

His colleague nodded in agreement. "Yes, the test subject reacted well to the serum. No mutations, no anomalies."

Suddenly, Dr. Watts's tablet flashed red, and the emergency alarm blared through the lab. The subject's vital signs spiked wildly—far beyond the usual stress response. A piercing scream of agony echoed through the containment cell, the sound so intense it reverberated through the metal walls. Watts looked down to see the Faunus thrashing violently, his shadow on the wall twisting into something grotesque and inhuman.

"Something's wrong! There's a change in their DNA!" the scientist shouted, panic seeping into his voice.

The horrifying crack of bones snapping filled the air, followed by the Faunus's screams morphing into guttural growls. The shadow on the wall swelled, taking on a monstrous form that defied description. The two Grimm troopers inside the cell backed away in terror, scrambling to escape, but it was too late. The restraints shattered, and the transformed Faunus pounced on them with feral speed.

From the observation deck above, Dr. Watts watched with cold detachment, his mouth set in a thin line. He felt no concern for the lives of his colleagues below—his primary focus was on the apparent failure of yet another experiment. The containment cell was designed to hold even the most dangerous subjects, so he was not worried about the creature escaping. His disappointment was reserved solely for the setback in his research.

"Have them transferred to the Courtyard with the rest," Dr. Watts ordered as he turned to leave. "It seems the serum still requires further work."

Pyrrha and Qrow could see the town of Asben Hallow ahead, a dark silhouette against the dusky sky. But something was wrong. They noticed a Grimm checkpoint blocking the road, complete with troopers, vehicles, and hastily erected barriers. The town, once a bustling center, now lay under the oppressive grip of the Grimm.

Qrow slowed the bike to a stop, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. "Looks like we've got some trouble, Red."

Pyrrha peered around the corner, catching sight of the checkpoint. "The Grimm?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

"Yeah," Qrow confirmed, his voice grim. "Looks like they've had control of this town for months."

"How are we going to get past them?" Pyrrha asked, glancing at the formidable blockade.

"It won't be easy," Qrow admitted. "Especially with your armor."

Pyrrha glanced down at her armor, recalling how the Faunus had called her a Knight of Nikos back in the woods. She wondered if it was her family's legacy that attracted unwanted attention. Qrow straightened the bike, gripping the handlebars with determination.

"Put your cloak on," he instructed, glancing back at her.

Without hesitation, Pyrrha pulled her cloak around herself, draping it over her armor. She knew better than to argue with Qrow, especially in Grimm-controlled territory. The Empress's apprentice, Cinder, was likely hunting them by now, making it crucial to stay inconspicuous. Pyrrha tugged her hood over her head, hiding her fiery red hair and face from sight.

With a final, wary look, Qrow drove the bike toward the checkpoint. The Grimm troopers soon noticed their approach. Qrow quickly counted their numbers—five human recruits, six Grimms, and a single commanding officer.

The officer stepped forward, raising a hand to signal them to stop. "That's far enough."

Qrow complied, slowing the bike to a halt. Despite his usual brashness, he knew now was not the time to provoke a fight. The Grimm outnumbered them, and after their encounter with Cinder, the Empire was undoubtedly on high alert.

The commanding officer approached, his eyes scrutinizing Qrow and the cloaked figure behind him. To Qrow's relief, the officer showed no signs of recognition, indicating that Cinder hadn't spread word of their identities. But caution was still paramount.

"State your business here," the officer demanded.

"We're just passing through, sir," Qrow replied, keeping his tone respectful. "Heading west."

"Is that so?" the officer asked, suspicion lacing his words.

Qrow nodded, maintaining a calm demeanor. The officer's gaze lingered on Qrow, then shifted to Pyrrha. She kept her head low, avoiding eye contact, her body tense under the cloak. The officer studied them for a moment longer, his expression unreadable.

Before he could press further, a trooper approached, saluting crisply. "Sir, you have a transmission from command. We may have a lead on its whereabouts."

The officer hesitated, then nodded curtly. "Very well, you may proceed."

"Thank you, sir," Qrow said, nodding in return.

He straightened the bike and slowly drove past the blockade. The troopers watched them closely as they left, their gazes heavy with suspicion. Once they were clear, Pyrrha exhaled a quiet sigh of relief.

"We should count ourselves lucky, Red," Qrow murmured, his voice low. "I feel it won't be that easy next time."

As they entered Asben Hallow, Pyrrha couldn't help but feel a growing unease. The town was a desolate sight, its streets eerily quiet. The few townsfolk they passed moved with a sullen, fearful air, avoiding eye contact with anyone. It was clear that the Grimm's presence had crushed the town's spirit.

Ahead, they reached the town square, where the red flag of the Grimm Empire flew above a heavily guarded station. Vehicles and troopers patrolled the area, solidifying the Empire's complete control over the town.

Qrow brought the bike to a stop, shaking his head in dismay. "This isn't looking good, Red. It's just as bad as I thought."

"It looks like the Grimm have full control," Pyrrha said, her voice filled with sorrow.

"Yeah," Qrow agreed, his tone somber. "This is no longer Lybarian territory."

Pyrrha clenched her fists under her cloak, struggling to understand. "Why are they doing this?"

"That's the thing about empires, Red," Qrow replied, his voice heavy with bitterness. "They always crave power. And Salem won't stop until all the Kingdoms of Opara are under her control."

Pyrrha looked around at the frightened villagers, her heart aching for them. They lived under the shadow of fear, oppressed by an empire that sought only to dominate. She thought of her parents' teachings and how a true ruler governs with kindness, compassion, and respect for their people.

But what kind of ruler governs through fear and cruelty?

"We shouldn't stick around here for long," Qrow said, interrupting her thoughts. "But it's getting late. We should find a place to stay the night and head out in the morning. I think I know just the place."

"You've been here before?" Pyrrha asked, a flicker of hope in her voice.

Qrow nodded. "Yeah, during a crusade with my team a long time ago. It's not far from here."

"Hang on, Red."

Qrow made a U-turn, heading down a side street. They soon arrived at The Twilight Dragon Tavern, an old inn a few blocks from the square. Qrow switched off the engine and put the stand down before getting off.

"This is it, Red," he said, turning to her.

Pyrrha lifted her hood, glancing up at the shiny dragon sign above the doorway. The sign was weathered and worn, the dragon's once fierce features now dulled by time. Despite its age, the tavern had a certain rugged charm, though it was far from welcoming. Pyrrha hesitated, doubts creeping in.

"It's... lovely. You sure about this place?" she asked, trying not to sound rude.

Qrow nodded, a reassuring smile on his face. "Don't worry, Red. I know the woman who runs this place. We'll be fine. Come on, let's go."

Qrow led the way to the tavern's entrance. Pyrrha followed, casting one last doubtful glance at the sign. Despite her reservations, she trusted Qrow's judgment. Together, they could handle whatever came their way.

Inside, the tavern was dimly lit, with flickering candles casting long shadows across the wooden tables and floor. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and ale. Off to the left, a few townsfolk sat quietly, sipping their drinks and casting wary glances at the newcomers.

"Qrow? Qrow Branwen?"

A stern voice called out from the main desk. A black-haired woman around Qrow's age, wearing a dark red dress, stared at him with surprise and disapproval.

"You've got a lot of nerve showing your face around here again," she said, her tone sharp.

"Roxana, it's been a while. You're looking just as ravishing as ever," Qrow replied with a cheeky grin.

Roxana rolled her eyes, though an amused smirk tugged at her lips. "And you still haven't settled the tab from your last visit. Don't think I've forgotten."

"You still owe my father for all those chairs and tables you broke during that fight."

Pyrrha raised an eyebrow at Qrow, stifling a laugh. He had neglected to mention that part of the story, and she could only imagine what kind of trouble he had caused during his last visit. Qrow shifted uncomfortably, clearly aware of her gaze.

"Still that stone-cold fox I remember," Qrow quipped, trying to deflect.

"Don't try to flatter your way out of this," Roxana retorted, crossing her arms. "What are you doing here, Qrow?"

"We're just passing through, headed to Haven," Qrow explained. "We need a place to spend the night."

"Well, you're in luck. There's a stable out back you can stay in," she said, a playful glint in her eye. "I'm sure the hogs will love the company."

Qrow chuckled. "Funny."

Roxana's expression softened, but concern crept into her voice. "Look, I've got enough trouble with the Grimm harassing my customers. I don't need any more. Business is bad enough as it is, and my daughters and I are struggling to get by."

Pyrrha glanced at the three waitresses tending to the customers. Despite their efforts to maintain a semblance of normalcy, the despair in their eyes was unmistakable. The Grimm's occupation had taken its toll on everyone, leaving them trapped in a state of fear and uncertainty.

"Please," Pyrrha said, her voice earnest. "We won't be any trouble. We can see that you need help."

Roxana's stern gaze softened as she looked at Pyrrha. The young woman's sincerity was disarming, reminding her of her own daughters. Before Roxana could respond, one of her daughters called out urgently.

"Mama!"

All three turned toward the window. Outside, a Grimm troop transport had pulled up in front of the tavern. An entire squad, led by a commanding officer, approached the entrance. Roxana's face tightened with concern.

"Let me handle this," she said, her voice low.

Qrow nodded. "Right, come on, Red."

They quickly took seats at a table in the corner, throwing up their hoods just as the door opened with a jingle of the bell. The commanding officer entered first, his eyes scanning the dimly lit interior. He paused, scrutinizing the room with a look of suspicion before approaching the front desk.

"Can I help you?" Roxana asked, keeping her voice steady.

"There are rumors around Asben Hallow that the Twilight Dragon has been harboring Faunus," the officer said, his tone dripping with accusation.

"Faunus?" Pyrrha whispered, her heart racing.

Roxana shook her head. "I haven't got any Faunus staying here."

The officer's eyes narrowed. "Then surely you won't mind an inspection."

He gestured to his troopers, who immediately began searching the tavern. Some headed upstairs, their heavy boots thudding on the wooden floor. Pyrrha tensed, her hand instinctively moving toward the hidden hilt of her weapon, but Qrow shook his head slightly. Now was not the time to act. They were vastly outnumbered and needed to maintain their cover.

One of the troopers approached their table, looming over them. Pyrrha kept her head low, focusing on controlling her breathing. The trooper's gaze lingered on them, suspicious but uncertain. After a tense moment, he turned and continued his inspection.

Roxana stood firm at the desk, her expression unwavering. "I already told you, there are no Faunus here."

The officer smirked, his eyes gleaming with malice. "We simply wish to verify your claim. We wouldn't want to leave any stone unturned—especially with the consequences that come with harboring Faunus. The Professor still requires his test subjects."

Pyrrha's eyes widened at the officer's words. "Test subjects?" she whispered, barely audible.

Roxana clenched her fists but kept her composure. "I've already told you the truth. Now, take your soldiers and leave."

The troopers who had gone upstairs returned, reporting their findings. "Sir, we've inspected all the rooms. There are no Faunus here."

The officer gave Roxana a long, hard look, clearly displeased. "Very well, but don't think we're finished here. We'll continue to monitor your establishment closely."

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "And when we find the truth, you and your daughters will be charged with treason. We'll burn this tavern to the ground."

Roxana met his threat with a cold, defiant stare. After a moment, the officer turned sharply and led his squad out of the tavern. The tension lingered in the air long after the door closed behind them.

Roxana sighed deeply, her shoulders sagging with relief. Pyrrha and Qrow stood up and approached the front desk, glancing out the window to watch the troopers load back into their transport.

"Sounds like someone else is causing you trouble," Qrow said, his voice laced with concern. "What was that all about?"

Roxana shook her head wearily. "Some new regulations the Grimm have in place. They've been rounding up all the Faunus in town."

"But why?" Pyrrha asked, her voice barely concealing her distress.

Roxana's expression darkened. "They won't say. But they're never seen again after they take them to the castle outside of town. All they tell us is that the Doctor needs his test subjects."

Pyrrha felt a chill run down her spine. She looked up at Qrow, who had gone silent, his expression grim. The mention of the Doctor resonated with him. He had heard of this figure in Salem's Empire—a scientist known for cruelly experimenting on Faunus. If the Doctor was here in Asben Hallow, their situation was far more dangerous than they had realized.

"We need to be careful, Red," Qrow said, his voice barely above a whisper. "This just got a lot more complicated."