"If you don't like how the table is set, turn over the table."
- Francis Underwood
The bullhead's engines roared, drowning out the sound of combat below. Ruby pressed her face against the rain-streaked window, watching as the huntsmen that remained to hold off the Grimm slowly got smaller. She caught a glimpse of Percy, a whirlwind of motion amidst the chaos, his sword flashing as he carved a path through the encroaching Grimm. He glanced up at their departing bullhead, his eyes meeting Ruby's for a fleeting moment. A silent message passed between them, and Ruby was reassured. He would be okay.
When the eight students landed at Beacon, they were told by their pilot that the Headmaster was expecting them. They were too exhausted to speak, so they ambled to the emerald tower overlooking campus in silence.
When they finally reached the top of the headmaster's tower, eight sets of feet nervously shuffled into a line.
The Headmaster looked visibly tired, hunched over his desk combing through dozens of messages on his terminal.
"Ah, welcome," he greeted belatedly, briefly turning his attention back to his terminal before closing it, the light floating over his desk disappearing so that they were speaking face to face. "I imagine you have assumptions about why you are here."
"This is our fault," Ruby choked out suddenly, the dam breaking as tears welled in her eyes. Yang's fists tightened.
Ozpin leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "No, child. It is not."
Confusion rippled through the group. "But... the riots..." stammered Weiss.
"Negativity attracts Grimm," Ozpin agreed, his voice calm and measured, "But the negativity required to attract this large of a migration is not born from a single act. It has been festering beneath Vale's surface for far too long. Your actions may have accelerated events, but the underlying tension was always there."
Yang bit her lip, anger and anxiety simmering beneath the surface. "Can we help? Can we fight?"
Ozpin shook his head. "Rest. Beacon is secure, and the other students are capable of handling the situation here. Your time will come, young huntress, but now is your time to focus on healing and learning."
Reluctantly, they turned to leave, their steps heavy as they made their way to the elevator.
"But make no mistake," Ozpin smiled coyly, "Ms. Goodwitch will be having words with you, and she is not as forgiving as I am."
And with that, Ozpin turned his terminal back on just as the elevator doors slid shut.
Again, the eight stood in silence. They were in agreement; in trouble or not, they wouldn't turn down the opportunity to get some rest.
In the dimly lit quarters of her penthouse suite, Cinder patiently knelt before a Seer Grimm. Slowly, the visage of Salem came into focus through the Seer's crystalline orb.
"My plans have been set in motion early, my Queen."
Salem's eyes, burning with an otherworldly light, regarded Cinder with approval. "Excellent. Proceed as planned. Destroy Vale, kill Ozma, and claim the relics he possesses."
"And Perseus?" Cinder asked, a hint of unease in her voice. "His interference could prove problematic."
Salem remained silent for a moment, her lips curling into a knowing smile. "Let this be a test. If he decides to interfere, whether he falls or triumphs the truth will be revealed. Vale means little in the grand scheme of things." The Grimm Queen paused, and Cinder felt a cold dread grip her heart as her right hand began seizing with pain. "However, ensure Ozma and his tower are destroyed. Do not fail me."
Cinder bowed her head further through the pain. "As you command, my Queen."
The image of her mistress faded, the Seer floating away shortly after.
Cinder stayed kneeling for a brief moment, standing as the tint lifted from her window and filled the room with light. Her mind raced, the pieces of her grand scheme rearranging and falling into place. Things were being set in motion sooner than ideal. She had intended to claim the power of all four maidens before executing her plan, but the chaos would serve as a catalyst for her ultimate goal all the same.
Salem wanted to test Perseus. Cinder didn't know what truth she was trying to 'reveal', but the Grimm Queen was not the only one testing him. He was powerful — deliciously so — but Cinder had doubts that even he could stand against what was to come.
She stepped over to the panoramic window of her penthouse suite, silhouetted by the evening sun. Her eyes fixed on the bustling city below. If Perseus failed, the city of Vale would soon be a writhing mass of shadows and flames, a symphony of destruction orchestrated by her own hand. He would be dead, and there would be nothing to stop her from taking the world for herself. If he proved powerful enough…
Cinder licked her lips. All the better for her plans. And when they came to fruition…
She hadn't gotten this far by backing a losing horse.
The door hissed open, interrupting her musings. Adam Taurus strode into the room, immediately identifiable by his harsh, rushed gait. "This is a disaster!" He snarled. "We're not ready, our plans—"
Cinder cut him off with a dismissive wave over her shoulder. "The schedule has been moved up, we have no choice. Even if the White Fang had not been exposed, the Grimm are attracted to negativity, and Vale is practically overflowing with it. We cannot allow this many Grimm to be culled before the advent of our plan."
Adam's eyes narrowed through his mask. "And the plan? It remains unchanged?"
Cinder turned to face him, her smile cold. "Indeed. Unplanned though the circumstances may be, the chaos will serve our purposes regardless."
For years she had painstakingly had sown the seeds of chaos in Remnant, one careful escalation after another. One whispered word, one protest, one errant gunshot at a time, she had set the stage.
Now it was time to reap what she had sown.
Executive Officer Treu leaned out of the bullhead as it soared over the city of Mantle.
The city was a war zone. The streets, bustling with life just hours ago, were now a labyrinth of overturned vehicles, smoking craters, and panicked civilians. Entire roads lay blocked off by toppled buildings, the air thick with the stench of smoke and death, punctuated by the guttural roars of the Grimm.
The sound of gunfire erupted sporadically around the city, Atlas's automatons and specialists holding choke points side by side with Mantle's beleaguered Huntsmen, their combined efforts barely holding back the tide of darkness.
Treu's face was tight with stress. The surge of negativity from the unrest had drawn a swarm of Grimm far larger than anyone had anticipated. They had thought the Grimm had been thinned out following Mantle's rebellion, but their intel had been wrong.
General Schnee had ordered them to support Mantle's efforts, but she was across Remnant in Vale, with the gaping holes in the chain of command left over from the battle of Mistral leaving the mammoth task of Mantle's defense in the hands of Treu and his counterparts in ground command, Commanders Leas and Xaze.
Treu scowled in disgust as they passed over a sector of the city alight with gunfire, but absent of Grimm. Even now they fought among themselves, Faunus and Humans killing each other en masse. Their ancestors had put aside their differences to face the Grimm in the heat of battle, but they couldn't pause their skirmish?
He swallowed the bitter taste of resentment. No, the squalid masses would act irrationally and Atlas would pay the price. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.
The bullhead did one more sweep over the frontline, which to his relief seemed to be stabilizing with a majority of the city secured. There was no CCT signal — doubtless the local population's doing — meaning they had no reliable way of getting in touch with any civilian authority, but with any luck most of those in the overrun parts of the city had managed to evacuate to the safety of Atlas' lines.
As his bullhead began to ascend back to Atlas, Treu looked over the miles of city that now lay in ruins.
So much needless death. So much waste.
If True didn't love his nation so much, he would be tempted to move to Vale. At least then he wouldn't have to deal with Grimm inside the city walls.
Glynda Goodwitch let her arm fall, a wave of exhaustion washing over her as the last of the rioters dispersed. "Alright," she began, adjusting her glasses, "Where's the next hotspot?"
"There isn't one," Dr. Oobleck replied, his eyes glued to the scroll in his hands. "It appears we are done for now."
"Ha ha! Jolly good!" Professor Port boomed, clapping Oobleck on the back with enough force to send the smaller man stumbling.
Glynda allowed herself to slouch for a single second before resuming her rigid posture. The people may have settled down for now, but there was still a threat to the city.
"We need to get to the south wall," she announced. Her colleagues nodded their agreement — they all knew the risk that the Grimm at Mountain Glenn posed if they made it to the walls.
Quickly, the three started off on a run to the south. The streets, not quite abandoned, were far less busy than they otherwise would be. The news of Grimm meant most wouldn't leave their homes or workplaces unless they had to.
They had just left the commercial district, however, when the ground began to shake beneath them. The trio skidded to a halt as the rumbling underneath them began to fade, eventually disappearing entirely.
The three shared a confused glance.
KAROOOOM!
An explosion from somewhere behind them rocked their eardrums, and in the distance they could see a pillar of black smoke shooting into the sky.
Glynda didn't even think, sprinting off towards the explosion as quickly as she could. Her teammates did the same, and as one they headed back the way they'd come.
By the time they reached the scene, Grimm were already everywhere. The stench of blood and smoke dominated the air, and the sound of gunfire rang out over the snarls and howls of the Grimm. Through the haze of smoke, she could barely make out an enormous crater where central plaza should have been, nearly the entire square had been blown in every direction or crumbled into the ground. From the smoke, Grimm poured in every direction.
"What-" she coughed through the smoke. "What did this?"
"The tunnels," Oobleck realized with horror. "The tunnels to Mountain Glenn."
Glynda's eyes widened. "But who could've…"
The noise from a sudden volley of gunfire cut the conversation short — they didn't have time to figure it out. With urgency, the three senior professors of Beacon leaped into the fray.
The echoes of steel on Grimm flesh filled the air, a relentless rhythm punctuated by Glynda's sharp cries of exertion and gunfire peppering the Grimm from around them. She flung a Beowolf back with a telekinetic blast where it struck a wall, dissolving soon after.
However, she was surprised to find that they and the police were not the only ones helping to hold back the Grimm.
In windows and on the streets, as numerous if not more so than the police, men with black suits and red ties fired a bevy of weapons at any Grimm that emerged from the smoke.
"Who are you? Civilians aren't allowed to have guns," Glynda questioned one of the men by a street barrier when she had the chance, blasting an Ursa back into the crater from a distance.
"Is that seriously what you're worried about right now!?" the man snapped, reloading his magazine.
Deciding he had a point, Glynda refocused her efforts on the fight.
While the tide of Grimm didn't show any sign of slowing, the three made the difference; the Grimm were no longer advancing into the city, instead being dispatched as quickly they emerged. And they weren't alone; even more suited men reinforced their perimeter along with the police, and through the smog she caught a glimpse of orange hair and a white jacket.
"Torchwick…" she muttered. The infamous thief would be her priority any other day, but today she had more pressing concerns.
Things continued that way for some time, a perpetual wave of Grimm that never faltered. Until suddenly, something that wasn't Grimm emerged from the darkness. Dozens of White Fang soldiers, their faces hidden behind bone-white masks, appeared from the smoke.
In the confusion, the huntsmen, police, and gangsters alike held their fire. Were they there to help? Had they cleared the Grimm from the other side somehow?
Any illusions were dispelled when the White Fang member in the lead, a hulking giant of a man wielding a chainsaw, lunged at Roman torchwick.
Roman barely reacted in time, lifting his cane to parry the chainsaw, delaying the attack just long enough for Glynda to thrust her riding crop and fling his assailant away with a blast of concussive force.
Glynda's heart sank into her stomach. The White Fang was attacking Vale. Had Perseus orchestrated this? Despite her distaste for the boy, she wasn't certain. But there was no time to think about it — The Grimm were advancing, their snarls echoing through the shattered streets, and if there was any chance they had been betrayed then Ozpin needed to know as soon as possible.
Glynda's eyes narrowed, her resolve hardening as dozens more continued to emerge from the crater alongside countless Grimm. "Hold the line!" she commanded, her voice rolling over the battlefield. "Do not let them advance!"
Port and Oobleck redoubled their efforts, their weapons blazing as they pushed back against the relentless tide alongside a newly renewed wave of gunfire. Glynda channeled her telekinetic power, creating a swirling vortex of debris that ensnared Grimm and White Fang alike, buying precious time.
Deftly, she stepped back and pulled out her scroll, hastily calling Ozpin.
She only hoped she wasn't too late.
A shrill tone sliced through the tense silence of Ozpin's office, a red light blinking harshly on his desk and intermittently illuminating the dark room. His expression unchanging, Ozpin reached over and answered the call without shifting his gaze.
"Yes, Glynda," he answered calmly. "Yes… I see... I'm afraid something has come up, I'll have to call you back."
Click.
…
Ding.
The elevator doors silently slid open, revealing a trio of figures bathed in harsh fluorescent light.
Adam Taurus, his crimson eyes blazing with hatred through his visor, stood at the forefront, hands clenched around his sword and scabbard, Wilt and Blush. Beside him Hazel Rainart stood breathing heavily, his hulking form clad in a White Fang uniform radiating a quiet menace. Tyrian Callows, a twisted grin splitting his face behind his own white mask, twirled his wrist-blades with anticipatory glee as the pincer of his scorpion's tail loomed dangerously behind him.
Ozpin's cane clicked against the marble floor as he calmly rose from his chair. "Gentlemen," he greeted, his voice deceptively smooth. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?"
Adam's lips curled into a sneer. "We're here to end your pitiful existence, old man."
"Oh?" Ozpin seemed amused by the threat.
"Do not underestimate him," Hazel warned Adam, his voice a deep rumble, his eyes not leaving Ozpin for a second. "He is beyond any foe you have ever faced."
"He will die the same as the others," Adam snapped, his fingers turning white as his grip tightened around Wilt.
"I would recommend you take Mr. Rainart's advice," Ozpin lectured, "one should not underestimate their opponent."
"There's nowhere to hide," Adam snarled. "You will die, Vale will be destroyed, and Beacon with it. You have lost, human."
Ozpin's gaze hardened, his posture straightening. "I beg to differ."
With a roar, Adam lunged forward, Wilt's crimson glow briefly bathing the office as it cut through the air. Ozpin deftly parried the blow with his cane, the force of the impact sending a tremor throughout the office, though the headmaster didn't budge an inch.
Hazel surged forward, his fists blurring as he unleashed a barrage of blows on the silver-haired immortal. Ozpin deflected them with ease, his movements precise.
Tyrian darted around the edges of the battle, his tail lashing out like a venomous whip. Ozpin spun, his cane intercepting the deadly stinger with a clang of metal.
The office became a whirlwind of motion, a deadly dance of shadows and steel. Furniture toppled, windows shattered, and the air crackled with the energy of their clash.
The battle of Beacon had begun.
The bullhead shuddered as it climbed, leaving the unending mass of Grimm behind. Percy slouched in his seat, exhaustion beginning to tug at his limbs. Winter, her face pale and wet with sweat and rain, sat beside him, her eyes fixed on the treetops passing below. They had stayed to hold off the Grimm by themselves while everyone else evacuated back to the city walls, an ordeal which had worn them both out.
"PAN, PAN, PAN! All callsigns, this is Beacon Command," an alarmed voice crackled over the pilot's radio, catching Percy's attention despite his moderate exhaustion. He leaned towards the cockpit, straining his ears to hear. "Beacon Academy is under assault by White Fang militants. All traffic, redirect from Beacon Tower. Say again, Beacon Academy is under attack."
Ice flooded Percy's veins, and the exhaustion he'd been feeling fled his body as adrenaline replaced it. "Adam," he spat, not doubting the culprit for a second. "I'll kill him," he swore to Winter, his voice a low growl. "I'm going to fucking kill him."
He turned to the cockpit. "Take us to Beacon. Now."
Percy's mind raced, a whirlwind of fear and fury. He saw flashes of Pyrrha, Yang, Weiss, all of them, caught in the crossfire. He squeezed his eyes shut, the image of their broken bodies a sickening knot in his gut.
He shouldn't have left them. Of course danger would find them — it always did, assuming they didn't find it first.
His leg bounced rapidly, hands clenching and releasing over and over.
Winter laid a hand on his, and their eyes met. She didn't try to hide her own fear.
"They'll be okay," she promised. "We'll make sure of it."
Percy tried to smile, but managed something closer to a grimace.
Suddenly, a low rumble shook the aircraft, a low rumble that resonated deep within them. Percy whipped his head towards the window, his brows furrowed in confusion.
On the distant horizon through the fog of rain he could faintly see the top of the tallest mountain begin to crumble and crack, the stone giving way.
Following his gaze, Winter's breath hitched. They stared with baited breath as more and more stone began to fall away.
ROOOOOOOOOOOOAR!
The world shook around them as a gargantuan shape burst forth from the peak of the mountain, its silhouette blotting out the stars as it soared into the air. A shockwave visibly spread from where it burst from the earth, uprooting trees and dirt alike, and sending clouds scattering for miles around.
A Grimm Dragon, its eyes burning with an unholy fire, stared down at them.
A wave of shock washed over the bullhead's occupants. Percy's leg stopped bouncing, joining the rest of the world in coming to a standstill. Winter's eyes widened in shock, her grip on her weapon loosening.
Percy glanced desperately through the window at the approaching sight of Beacon. Ruby, Yang, Weiss, Ren, Nora, Pyrrha, even Blake, Kali and Ghira's daughter. They were all in danger. He had to protect them, but if he didn't deal with the Grimm Dragon, nobody else would. And once it reached Beacon, it would be far more dangerous to the people he cared about than the White Fang could ever be.
He couldn't be in two places at once, and so he had to make a choice.
"I have to take care of that," he told Winter, surprising himself with how calm his voice sounded. "You need to get to Beacon. Deal with Adam if you can, but above all else keep the kids safe."
Winter broke from her stupor and nodded, her eyes filled with a steely resolve. "It will be done."
Percy moved to the open door of the bullhead, the wind tearing at his clothes. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come.
"Semper in Periculo," he whispered with a hint of morbid amusement, and stepped out into the void.
He plunged into the cold water of a small lake head first, the cold depths welcoming him. As he sank deeper, the sounds of conflict faded, replaced by an eerie silence. He reached out, feeling the depth of the lake and beyond it the streams that fed into and ran from it. Beyond them, the unending world ocean it spilled into.
Peace washed over him as his aches began to fade. He closed his eyes, immersing himself in the vastness of the ocean, and feeling a tranquility consumed him. They were one and the same; he was of the sea, and he was the sea. The sea was uncontrollable. He was uncontrollable. They were uncontrollable. Eternal. Unending. All-consuming.
His eyes snapped open, their powerful glow illuminating the lake.
The sea would not be restrained.
Blake nimbly dodged the Ursa's sluggish strike, her movements fluid as she spun close against its back to use it as a shield against the incoming hail of gunfire.
Moments before the Ursa was turned into nothing more than a black puddle, Blake dashed out from behind its back and slid under a Beowolf, deftly righting herself behind it and awkwardly reaching a single hand around her makeshift wall of furry cover to blindly return fire.
Spotting Yang crouched behind a corner at the end of the hallway, Blake abandoned her fleeting defenses to sprint over to her partner, gracefully leaping between impromptu barriers made from desks and chairs to reach the end of the hallway unscathed. She slid into a crouch next to Yang, keeping her head below the desk tilted on its side to conceal them from the other direction.
"You alright?" Yang asked, shouting to be heard over the blare of gunfire.
Blake nodded sharply. "You?"
Her partner shrugged, a forced smile welded onto her face. "Could be better, but I take what I can get. At least you're not blonde anymore, that's a win."
Ignoring her partner's antics, Blake poked her head out to glance down the hallway she had just come from. A litany of gunfire greeted her, sailing past her and glancing against the wall's cement.
"Not good," she summarized for Yang. "Two squads, entrenched in depth."
Yang stared blankly.
Blake rolled her eyes. "At least a dozen people, defending the hallway from two different sets of barricades, one in front of the other," She simplified.
"Oh." Yang blinked, then huffed in frustration. "Why aren't they charging right towards us like every other time?"
"I'm… not sure," Blake admitted. "It's worrying. If they don't come to us, then we'll have to charge them head-on in order to regroup with the others."
The two shared a nervous look. They didn't have aura meters hooked up, but Blake would wager they were both solidly in the red. The White Fang holding the hallway were just footsoldiers, so they might be able to make it through if they tried…
But… they might not.
"Wait for rescue?" Yang suggested.
"Wait for rescue," Blake agreed.
No sooner had Yang's partner finished speaking than her ears perked up, rotating like radar dishes to point down the hall.
Yang fought back the temptation to make a cat joke. "What is it?"
Blake shushed her hastily, eyes growing wide.
"We have to go," she whispered.
Yang lowered her voice in turn. "Go where? The only rooms we can reach from here without going directly through them are the infirmary and the Library."
Blake bit her lip anxiously. "There's an emergency exit in the library," she said, hastily grabbing her partner's wrist and dashing down the hallway away from the White Fang barricade.
They burst through the doors of the library shortly after, making a beeline for the back corner of the room.
"Damn it!" Blake cursed, coming to a sudden halt. In front of them, the second floor of the library had collapsed, a pair of bookshelves toppled over on top of each other.
Right in front of the emergency exit.
"Window?" Yang suggested.
Blake pursed her lips. "They're reinforced." After a moment's hesitation, she nodded. Together they made for the nearest window, but just a few feet away Blake's ears perked up once again.
"Hide!" she suddenly hissed, skidding to a halt and ducking behind the nearest bookshelf. Yang glanced in either direction but quickly joined her partner behind the bookshelf.
Yang fought the urge to ask what had Blake so spooked, listening carefully as Blake's breath hitched.
Then suddenly, Yang heard it.
An electric hum, barely audible over the fighting but definitely there. As the seconds tick by it slowly grew more audible, and Yang had to strain her ears less and less to hear the undercurrent of energy. Until, with the sound of an opening door, the electric buzz filled the room.
"You always did love books," a girl's voice said to the room at large, her voice laced with a chilling confidence. Yang didn't recognize the voice, but Blake tensed, her muscles coiling beneath her clothes.
"We won't kill you, you know. I wouldn't be here otherwise. Adam gave explicit instructions that you're to be captured unharmed." The hum of electricity grew even closer.
"That girl with you, on the other hand…"
Blake's grip tightened on Gambol Shroud, her knuckles white. She could feel Yang's questioning gaze on her, but she didn't dare speak.
The electric hum kept getting louder until it felt like it was on top of them, and Yang's breath hitched.
Then just as Yang saw a flicker of movement, in a burst of motion Blake pounced.
Yang followed Blake's lead, her eyes blazing with fury. She unleashed a powerful haymaker, her gauntlets crackling with energy as they connected with the White Fang's jaw, sending the smaller girl reeling.
Gambol Shroud rang out and bullets pelted their stalker, allowing Yang to safely dash back.
Taking a moment to assess their opponent, Yang had to admit she wasn't shaking in her boots. She stared down at a red haired girl around her age who frantically scampered back, lashing her whip out in front of her to fend off any more attacks. She wore a White Fang mask but had no visibly Faunus traits that Yang could tell. She wore her hair in a ponytail, and wore a tight, sleeveless shirt that cut off just below her chest.
Yang raised an eyebrow at her partner. This is who they had been running from?
"Don't underestimate Ilia," Blake whispered. "Normally we could take her, but in our current state…"
Yang winced. She had a point, unfortunately.
Blake and Yang exchanged a look, a silent understanding passing between them. They circled their opponent, their movements a synchronized dance of predator and prey.
The auburn haired girl steadily began backtracking, matching their pace and occasionally lashing out at movement. The confrontation continued that way for some time; the three playing chicken, with nobody quite willing to commit. The sounds of explosions and crumbling stone echoed around them, a friendly reminder that they were not the only ones fighting for their lives.
Suddenly, Ilia dashed forwards and lashed her whip towards Blake, the whip passing through thin air as Blake quickly dashed backwards, leaving only a shadow clone in her place.
Yang rushed in to punish the aggression, delivering an uppercut to her torso that sent the smaller girl into the air with a grunt. She recovered in a roll, spinning to her feet and lashing her whip out to discourage a follow up just as she had before.
And then they were back to chicken.
Yang snarled. She knew they could take her — screw it, Yang knew she could take the her by herself. But with their auras so dangerously low and time on their side…
But the moment came when their stalker didn't backtrack quite quickly enough. Yang and Blake's eyes met for a single moment before they both converged on their target, Yang swinging high and Blake sliding low.
The masked girl panicked, flailing out towards Yang with her electrical whip. But the clumsy attack never connected, Yang closing the distance before the White Fang's arm fully came around and grabbing her by the wrist, leveling a punishing blow against her jaw just as Blake swept her legs out.
The smaller girl fell hard, her body contorting awkwardly as she hit the ground. Yang didn't hesitate. She released Ilia's wrist and stomped down on her abdomen, the force of the blow amplified by her aura. Ilia cried out in pain, her body curling in on itself.
Blake wasted no time in emptying her magazine into her former White Fang comrade. Each shot found its mark, a relentless barrage that chipped away at Ilia's aura until it shattered, a fleeting shimmer of light marking its demise.
The two partners stood over their fallen opponent, their chests heaving. A triumphant smile spread across Yang's face, but Blake's expression was more hesitant.
"We should... we should go," Blake said, her voice barely a whisper.
Yang nodded, her smile fading as she sensed Blake's unease. "Yeah," she agreed, her voice heavy. "Let's get out of here."
Blake smiled at her gratefully, and turned to leave.
BANG
Yang watched in wide-eyed horror as Blake stumbled, the sound of glass breaking following the purple light that briefly shone across her as her aura was shattered.
Yang dove to catch her teammate as she crashed to the ground, desperately placing her hand on her partner's back to feel for blood, only to breathe a sigh of relief as she felt nothing but torn clothing.
"You kept them here long enough."
Looking over her partner's shoulder, Yang watched as a red-haired man in a White Fang mask strode towards them from the entrance to the library. His fancy robes were torn, and he had soot marks covering him. A wide black soot mark traced along his mask, and he clenched the handle of a red katana by his side.
She scampered back as quickly as she could, pulling her limp partner along with her. Just to make sure, she felt for a pulse and felt another wave of relief hit her when she had no trouble finding one.
Gently setting Blake down, Yang wiped the sweat from her brow and wearily staggered to her feet.
As she stared down her opponent, Yang's smile was wide. She didn't care that she was barely standing and was almost guaranteed to lose a fight with the new guy — Blake was still alive. She felt fear, but the relief that flooded her was greater than any fear. Blake was alive.
"Take Blake back with the others." The red haired man ordered the White Fang girl, who unsteadily pushed herself to her feet. "I'll finish off this one."
The girl nodded, taking one exhausted step towards Blake before Yang repositioned directly in front of her, readying her fists.
Yang only saw her looking back questioningly at who Yang could only assume was her boss before her vision was filled with red and her world flipped. She spun head over heel and then back again, her stomach landing harshly on the wooden floor with a thunk and the shatter of her aura breaking.
As the corners of her vision turned black and the red-haired man made his way to her, Yang weakly reached a hand out to her partner. No thoughts filled her head, only hazy feelings of desperation. If only she could reach Blake, things would be okay.
She reached further. A few more inches… almost there… one more inch…
She was filled with a delirious despair as a boot stomped down on her hand, and her last wish was denied.
Yang kept her fading gaze on her partner, even as her executor swung his blade. She saw a red flash, and then…
Darkness.
Hope you all enjoyed!
For my FFN readers, given the inconsistency of this site, there is a version of this story up on AO3, and I post updates in the discord. If you want to know when I update, I'd recommend you follow me on one of those other platforms as well.
Kinda forgot to mention last time, but a lot has changed since I've been gone - Rooster Teeth was shut down, and PJO's show launched. Easily the biggest event for the two series since I've started writing them. It won't affect my plans - for PJO I haven't watched the show, though I'm nominally interested, I'm pretty sure I'll just be too attached to the books and my interpretation to like anything they try to do. Will probably check it out but I'm in no rush. For RWBY... well, it sucks, but I was not exactly relying on the new seasons for inspiration lmao.
That aside, reviews! I've got so many I haven't replied to, but I have read all of them! If there are any questions you have or anything you wanted a response on (even if you've already asked), review on this chapter. I'm planning on replying to every review of this chapter that asks a question until the next one.
Anyway, that's all from me. Once again hope you enjoyed, I know I'm enjoying things kicking off, and thank you to my pat rons for your support, you guys staying with me through most of a year of no updates has really helped to keep me motivated.
Next chapter July 1 (Probably)
