Chapter 69 - Divine Negotiations
Do everything in love — 1 Corinthians 16:14
High above Peach's head, a great collection of flaming shapes of light spun in both varying directions and speeds. Some slow as an old ticking clock, others fast as cogwheels in an overworked machine. An agglomeration of sacred geometric circles were linked together by a hexagon, which itself housed a star with six prongs, while the prongs contained even more circles, patterns repeating into infinity. It was like looking at some celestial equation. Operating on formulas and mathematics known only to the divine. A letter in the universal alphabet. Stood beneath it, Peach found herself both enamored and terrified of complexity. Of course, it was easier to focus fear than awe. Especially since this cosmic equation could fire fucking lasers.
Peach divedaway as cross-shaped pillars of light came down on her like a hail of spears, burning the air, stabbing through the building she was standing on. It had been coming down already, the building, with whole sections torn away or set aflame, the foundation destroyed, tilting and groaning like a miserable drunk on a long walk home. The light rays glided across the walls in their dozens, like a team of angry hockey players rushing down the goaltender. Peach kept moving. Dodging left, dodging right, left again, feeling one leave a painful burn across her shoulder as she narrowly escaped its path. More were coming now, raining, chasing, zipping about in random sequences, as if programmed not to permit their mark any opportunity to counterattack. The beams surrounded Peach, cut off her escape, she destroyed one with a Sever, but a second rushed up behind, but Peach managed to slip away unharmed. Dodged the next, then the third, blocked the fourth, turning desperately around to keep track of where they were coming from. A pointless venture, she supposed. There was nothing she could do to stop the assault short of attacking the Vicar, which at this point, was the only option left.
As if on cue, Peach heard a devastating explosion. One that made even the air tremble. Not far off, a smaller skyscraper had tilted over and pierced headlong into another. Glass burst into the air, plumes of smoke and dust billowed outward, chunks of steel and stone raining everywhere, all while another holy symbol floated over the chaos, unleashing its own storm of light beams. Three guesses as to who caused that chaos. So Peach weaved and blocked her way through her latest barrage before bolting toward the collapsing building. She Sutured herself to a flying concrete chunk, then kicked off it, drew herself to another, over and over as she ascended toward the skyscraper's rooftop. By the time she got there, the building had tilted too much, leaving it at an awkward angle where she could stand on its upside wall, painting up diagonally, and having to fight against gravity. This seemed not to matter to Hazel and Vicar, less concerned about the condition of their fight, and more the outcome.
Peach had long given up trying to track them by sight alone. She had ro raise her arms as they both crossed her up at insane speeds, effectively ignoring her as they clashed. Occasionally she'd get a slightly clearer image of them, smudges of movement, like wet watercolor paint dashed across the canvas this way and that. When that wasn't possible, she had to keep track of visible air ripples that accompanied their every impact, the shotgun-like sound that followed. Boom, boom, boom. Like giants stomping around in a fury.
So Peach joined the fray. What else could she do? Her muscles sang as the Vicar caught her scalpel on her round shield, barely expressing much effort to keep her at bay. She showed more respect for Hazel's bare fist—of course—and wholly dodged the blow. She shoved Peach away and set her attention back on Hazel. Peach didn't need to think too hard about what that statement implied.
She rushed the Vicar, extending her scalpel's reach and power cuts with Psychokinetic energy, then just went for it. Cut, sweep cut, jab, jab, jab. Peach laid on a flurry, abandoning her usual slow and methodical manner for pure aggression. It was the only way to keep up. But her abilities were not suited for such a hail Mary fighting style and it showed. The Vicar avoided her attacks with the expected finesse of the Church's most powerful agents, surprising no one at all, and yet no less infuriating Peach more with every passing second.
She split a section of the ground with Sever and Sutured it behind the Vicar. The Vicar simply sidestepped it. No space wasted, even raising her shield to ward off the bits of concrete that burst from the impact.
Then, the girl returned Peach's assault, her movements so quick that Peach's heart jumped at every attack sent her way. She felt the stab coming before she saw it, which was lucky, and scraped it aside. Blocked the next one. Then the next, forced to backtrack as the Vicar's lunges kept her consistently on the backfoot. A hailing of stabs that Peach found increasingly difficult to track. It was like she was a trainee again, struggling to keep up with her seniors. Peach seized a rare opening and stabbed at the girl's head, but by the time it connected, the girl was gone.
Peach jumped back on instinct and that turned out to be the right choice. The Vicar had come down from the air, stabbing through a window, thankfully, instead of Peach's head. But it seemed that was what the girl had accounted for, because out of the corner of Peach's eye, her spartan shield came spinning toward her, and only at the last second did Peach manage to duck under it. If only that had put her in the clear. In the second it took for the shield to pass over her head, the Vicar had appeared on the other end, caught it, then sprang toward Peach before she could prepare herself.
In a panic, Peach attempted to run and make some space, but by the time she turned around, the Vicar had appeared on her other side, faster than a blink. Peach saw stars as she ate a backhanded fist so hard that she tasted blood immediately. That was not the end of it. She managed to dodge the stab, but the blade caught her coat, allowing the Vicar to pull Peach back, then stroke her in the same spot, the same exact way.
Peach felt her guts cry as the Vicar booted her in the stomach, sending her careening like thrown stone down the lopsided building. Peach scrambled to grab something, managed to snag a narrow window sill with one hand, stabbing her scalpel into the wall with the other. She gasped, or had it been a whimper, new wounds aching fury. Three hits was all it was. Three. And yet they hurt worse than anything she'd felt in years.
Peach scraped to her feet, trying to get her breathing under control. Hazel was back on the Vicar now, just as if it was only the two of them fighting, and she was some gnat they were constantly swatting out of the way. A new feeling for Peach. And a most unpleasant one.
Should she Overshadow?
It was tempting, she had to admit. By now her cool time had long expired and she certainly had no upper limit on how many times she could use it in a day. It increased her attack power and could very well pull an instant victory if she managed to pull off Divine Surgery. No reason not to use it, right?
Only, the moment she did so, it could very well be countered by the Vicar's Overshadow. There was an unspoken implication that came with using the technique which was akin to one country dropping a nuclear bomb on an enemy nation, then having the same done to them. Mutually assured destruction. If you use your Overshadow, I'll use mine to crush yours, then you're dead for certain. Effectively, in a battle of experts, the one to lose in a battle of Overshadows was likely to lose the battle itself. Best not to play that game, especially since she had no idea what the Vicar's Overshadow could do.
The only option was to help Hazel end this quickly. She feared it might not be that easy.
Peach joined Hazel is rushing the Vicar down, made to dodge and weave as holy lasers pelted their surroundings. Once he got close, Hazel threw a lightning-fast punch. One the Vicar preemptively ducked. Peach already came up with a kick of her own, and wasn't too surprised to see the Vicar dodge that took. Turn by turn they went at her, and turn by turn they were evaded or deflected. But the pressure was on, the girl was losing ground, forced to stay on the defensive. They got their first break. The Vicar avoided Peach's ash, blocked Hazel's kick, but was unable to avoid his grab, where he pulled her close then slugged her savagely across the face, sending her tumbling away. Peach kept at her, stabbing at the girl while she was on the ground, barely missing. The Vicar kicked back up, recalling her spear and stabbing it at Peach's heart. A narrow dodge, and no doubt a relief, but it was a short one.
The Vicar had jumped toward Peach, punched her savagely in the gut, swept her off her feet, then kicked her in midair, sending her flying off. Off the building, that was. She plunged into open space, the sudden weightlessness making her heart lurch. The last thing she saw before she began to fall was the Vicar waving goodbye.
The ground came fast, and with the building coming down too, Peach knew what this would spell. She threw her hand up and cast Suture, binding herself to the underside of the building as its heavy shadow fell over her. Safe, but for an instant. The walls were crumbling under the weight of the rest of the structure, and now chunks of it was falling on her. There was no time even to catch her breath.
Peach yanked herself up, dodging and jumping from the debris as she flew toward a window. She crashed through to the inside of the building, what looked like some interior office, scattered with desks, cubicles, machines, papers, all upside down, all falling toward her like rain. Peach sighed.
She scrambled through the chaos. Ducking behind a cubicle wall as a table bounced off it, stitching two desks together and leaping off them, dashing up the tilting floor as fast as she could. She screamed as someone came crashing through a window above—the Vicar. She landed on her feet, looking straight up and ready to jump back out.
Thinking fast, Peach stitched a section of broken wall and a long table, sent them flying toward the Vicar. Unsurprisingly, she noticed, jumped of the way, dodging all the debris in her path. Impressive, but in this space surrounded by furniture, how long would she be able t o dodge everything?
Peach began a sequence of slicing and stitching. Sending upon the Vicar a storm of her own, keeping her on the defensive. She almost cheered as a shelf smacked the girl in the face, then followed up with a chandelier, a footrest, two chairs, and a piano. Fed up with the abuse, the Vicar slices through an incoming table, firing several holy lasers in return.
Peach threw herself to the nearest wall, held on with one hand, and cast a Sever. The Vicar kicked up a table, which split in four sections, then hurled her shield. This time, Peach knocked it away, and it crashed through a wall and spun out into the beyond. With a roar, Peach jumped toward the Vicar and tried to drive her scalpel through her neck. The Vicar caught her fist in one hand, but Peach had counted on it.
With great satisfaction to make, Peach kicked the Vicar in the chest with both feet, sending her plummeting through the tilted building, bouncing and breaking on the cubicles on her way down like a cartoon character falling off cliffs.
The humor did not last forever. The Vicar landed on her feet, looked up, and despite her visor hiding any emotion, Peach found it unlikely that she was fuming with joy.
Case in point, that massive tetragram burst to life between them and particles of light began to materialize and swirl together in the center. That could only be bad news. Peach jumped through a window above and burst into open air on the other side. She felt the air grow hot. In a panic, she tethered herself to the ground twenty feet away, crashing onto her back, praying she'd gotten far enough away.
There was an ear-splitting shriek, like nails on a chalkboard amplified by a sonic weapon. A massive plasma beam burst from inside the building, wide as several trees clumped together, and so white-hot that Peach felt like her skin was boiling. She watched with disturbed awe as the ray ascended into the sky, splitting the clouds into a great circle, eventually thinning out until it was gone.
"God…" Peach breathed. How could anyone contest such power?
Peach heaved as the Vicar jumped out of the newly made hole, and only then did she take into account her newest problem.
The building had finally reached the ground.
Louder even than that laser beam, the impact of the building rattled Peach so violently that she dizzy even before being thrown into the air. Great chunks of everywhere, a galaxy of them, turning over and over as she fought and failed to orient herself. A cloud of dust next. It got in her eyes, her nose, her mouth. Peach prayed to God and luck and fate as she threw out a Suture, hoping it would catch something and pull her to safety. She flew blind, pelted by debris, thinking only about living another day. Finally she hit something stable, but quickly began to slide off. She threw up her hands, grabbed an edge, and with panicked relief, pulled herself up onto solid ground. She nearly cried with relief, on her hands and knees, breathing hard.
Wiping the dust out of her eyes, she looked around. All around her was a ruined city. A battlefield of mess of rubble piles high enough to match the rooftops of smaller buildings, twisted power grids, torn power lines. Small fires were scattered around. It was the closest thing to real hellscape Peach had ever seen.
"God…" she breathed again.
"Here." a whisper in her ear.
The barrage of lasers came once again like the world's deadliest rain, and now Peach was lost for breath. She blocked, cut, parried them, but their intense heat steadily burned her fingers, making it incredibly difficult to protect herself. And now the Vicar was in the fray. Her lunges were that of an angry wasp attacking an invader, coming at Peach without reserve. Peach parried one cut, took a shield bash, and was sent tumbling off her perch and down to the broken land.
No time even to come to a stop. She was snatched by her hair, yoked back up, the spear was aimed at her heart. Peach cast Sever at her own hair, felt herself go free, dropped to her knees so the blade passed over. Her lungs were burning. Cast Sever again, scoring a shallow cross cut in the Vicar's chest plate. All that for a paper cut. She couldn't dodge the blow to her jaw, kicked like a dodgeball, dribbling away and hitting a wall with a shriek of pain.
Oh God, this girl. She was too strong. It had been so long since an opponent was too strong. Peach had no idea what to do.
But that was no excuse to lose.
Peach punched the ground to force some spirit back in her. Jumped to her feet despite the pain, threw one foot in front of the other, faster and faster, as she met the Vicar's charge. She was not going to be put down by some stupid brat. Peach crossed her fingers, molded her power, prepared to enforce her Overshadow. Whatever happened afterward she couldn't think about. She just had to initiate Divine Surgery as fast as possible. They were up on each other now, the Vicar's spear inching toward her face. Peach made ready to—
Hazel's shoulder barreled into the girl out of nowhere, so savage that it seemed to bend her sideways, ripping her off her feet, and turning her into the tumbling dodgeball. When she finally came to a stop over fifty feet away, Hazel was already there. He snatched her by the plume on her helmet, but it seemed she'd been ready for it, attempting to run him through the neck with her spear. There was an embarrassing plink, like a pencil bouncing off a blackboard as Hazel's skin refused to be broken. The Vicar's effort was rewarded with a punch in the face that sent a piece of her helmet skittering away. Then he lifted her by the ankle, slammed her onto the rubble once, twice, three times, then chucked her away like an abused doll.
Perhaps this should have been the moment Peach thanked Hazel for saving her life, but that had not been his intention at all. In fact, Peach was quite sure he could have intervened far sooner, and had simply waited for an opportunity to get a clean hit. Some ally.
So Peach found herself in a similar situation as before, trounced by the Vicar like she was back in training, while these real monsters duked it out. It made so much sense now, why the Superior wanted powerful people like this. Realistically, who but someone on their absurdly rare level could stop them?
Getting up, she realized that she should have been doing what Hazel had. Watching, waiting for an opportunity. Hazel, very clearly, was not on her side despite her change in loyalties. And Peach imagined that if he got what he wanted, then he likely would not trust her again, if he ever had. He could very well be an enemy after this. Was it better just to kill him?
She gave it some thought. Maybe. If the opportunity arose. For now, she'd let these two fight it out. After all, why do all the hard work herself?
Again, they were hard to track, but Peach felt like now she was adjusting to their speed. Hazel's fists were fast and strong, moving like gunfire from an automatic. The Vicar was on the backfoot, blocking every blow with her shield, quick pokes with her spear, low sweeps, high lunges. She ducked Hazel's kick, but was caught when she stood back up and took his heel on the back swing. Hazel followed up with a punch, but the Vicar lowered her shield so it just barely scraped by, then ran her spear through Hazel's heart. Or would have, if it hadn't bounced right off. Damn that had to be frustrating. And yet it spoke volumes.
While the Vicar had been utterly trashing Peach, she couldn't break through Hazel's skin at all, which had to mean she was not powerful enough to harm him. Sure, that was good news, but something about it was off. This was the Vicar, specially chosen by the Superior for their insane potential and power. It didn't make any logical sense for him to pick a replacement for Hazel that was far too weak to beat him. Why send her here at all?
The columns of light were back now, and Hazel was their lucky target. The tempo increased. Now, they flashed across the broken land, homing on Hazel in their dozens, refusing to let him escape. They spawned seemingly at random, laying on a savage pressure that did not seem to permit Hazel even to move. On top of that, the Vicar moved like a streak of light flashing around, launching the holy columns, lashing with her spear, throwing her shield, arcane symbols everywhere, belching white lasers that melted everything they touched. She was an absolute force. A calamity in motion.
And yet, here was Hazel tanking the burning light like they were mere bee stings. Barely flinching at being stabbed or cut or bashed, and meeting his fellow Vicar with savage aggression. Gunshot sounds. Bang, bang, bang. Only now did Peach feel the pressure around her growing heavier. There was a boom from up above. Storm clouds were forming, lightning was starting to build. Was the mere intensity of this fight disturbing the very weather?
Peach shivered as the Vicar let out a savage roar. She jumped toward Hazel, entire body shining with golden light, and upon spiking the ground with her spear, unleashed a wave of light pillars that spread out with terrible speed, ripping the ground apart, leaving behind smoldering craters. Then she did it again. And again. She chased Hazel down like a murderous grasshopper, razing everything to dust, the smell of burning things in the air. It reminded Peach of Jaune, who seemed to always be thinking of some new way to display how ridiculous his power was. The heavens were bubbling, boiling, thunder crashed in tune with exploding holy energy, lightning hissed and struck randomly. Hazel chucked boulders and slabs of ruined buildings, causing tremors with every attack.
The Vicar ran her spear into Hazel's neck, two handed, managed to hold for a moment, but even then it probably only barely broke the skin. Hazel palmed the shaft, booted the girl in the knee and dropped her, then threw an uppercut so brutal Peach feared it might take her head off. He grabbed her shoulder, punched her again, again, again. Then lifted her above his head like a wrestler, before chucking her through the nearest wall, metal and concrete shattering.
Through the dust, a laser fired at Hazel, but with his bare hand, he deflected it like a mirror. Peach could only shake her head, almost feeling bad for the girl. It seemed there was nothing she could do against Hazel for all her strength. Whatever choice the Superior had made, to pick this girl for the Vicar seemed a mistake. Something about this wasn't right. It wasn't like the Superior to pick someone weak even for the Whispers. Had this girl simply been a desperate choice for a new Vicar? Or was something else going on?
One thing was for certain. This fight was as good as over. Peach only had to wait for Hazel to finish the job.
Then, finally, all of this would be over.
Cinder felt the heaviness in the air. Storm clouds had formed now, thunder and lightning blared, light rain came down. She hadn't known it could rain in the Public Domain. Hadn't known there could be weather at all.
She could see the city now. Distant shadows popping up like mushrooms. Only now there seemed to be a section of the city missing. A great gap as if a giant monster had taken a bite out of it. Proud as she could be, even she felt uncertain about facing something that powerful with human intelligence. Randomly, white beams would shoot into the air from that empty space in the city, so it took no guesses to figure out who was over there.
Their little crew had walked in silence. No one seemed in the mood for lively conversation with the imminent threat of death on its way. Zulhetl. The name itself made Cinder squirm. She had never seen it before, had only been told stories. But those stories had been enough to give her nightmares terrible enough to surpass her usual ones. You could underestimate a high ranking agent, the Thrones, the Vicar, even the Superior to a certain understandable extent. But to take an S-class Grimm as anything less than deadly serious was the height of foolishness.
Cinder would normally never run from a fight, even against opponents far stronger. But even she drew the line at an S-class Grimm. Fuck that.
But somehow the Zulhetl seemed a trifling concern, at least at the moment. Really, her thoughts centered more on Jaune, who led their little group in cold silence. Of course, him being silent was nothing to remark upon, but this felt different somehow. He was quiet in that way like someone who has been told a terrible secret and feared blurting it out. His shoulders looked stiff, like he was anticipating something around the corner, but had no idea what it would be. He seemed… scared. And that irritated her.
Certainly he had reason to be. He'd explained what happened and Cinder couldn't confess to having a solution for the mess he'd got himself in. No less, to see Jaune afraid? It didn't make sense somehow. It felt wrong. She could not have him being afraid, not when he was meant to be her ultimate weapon. It seemed, once again, she would have to whip him into shape. If only to spare them both any more embarrassment. Cinder met his stride, looked at his face. Down cast, deep in thought. He hadn't even noticed she'd approached him and they were practically shoulder to shoulder. It reminded her of that moment alone in Qrow's heart, the boy completely out of his mind, then just floating away like a lost balloon. She wasn't trying to have that happen again, so she tried this time to be more… sensitive. Ugh, the very word made her want to be sick.
"Are you concerned for your aunt?" she asked.
Jaune didn't look at her. "No. I mean yeah, but I'm sure she's fine. I guess I'm more worried that she won't listen to me."
"I hate to give you further cause for concern, but she will not listen. Not to you."
"Why?"
"Because you are the child. And the height of parental advantage is the privilege of being right even when they are clearly wrong."
Jaune seemed to take a moment to think about that. "Well, she picked the wrong side. Once I tell her what happened—"
"She will double down." Cinder cut him off with a casual shrug, "Master Peach is nothing if not stubborn and unwilling to compromise. Face it Jaune, you'd have better luck convincing a hoarder of the merits of charity."
Jaune didn't say anything to that. He just stalked on ahead a few paces, ironically proving her point by demonstrating his mother's exact behavior. Cinder felt a spike of annoyance, but managed to rein in and cool off. Better to come at this more suggestively. She once again matched his pace, glancing behind her to see how far Oobleck was. Far enough that he wouldn't overhear them, she hoped. With that, she spoke low and got right to the point. "We can still alter course. The Vicar is strong no doubt, but against Hazel and Peach? Those are long odds."
"But not impossible," Jaune countered.
"Don't be coy. It is a safe wager to assume Hazel will emerge victorious, perhaps even without Peach's help. The only other enemy of relative concern is just a few paces behind us." Jaune's eye met hers, annoyed but attentive. He was listening now. Cinder continued. "Between the two of us, he stands no chance. Add in Qrow and well, it's overkill."
"The goal isn't to kill at all."
Cinder resisted the urge to roll her eyes. So naive. "Fine. So we restrain him. It would be easily done. If the Vicar somehow manages to overcome both Hazel and Peach—which I will remind you is absurdly unlikely—then we three can rescue them and finish the job. Simple."
"And what happens after? Do we just leave them tied up? Leave them to Hazel or the Grimm?"
"Do you mean to convert our enemies to our side with an inspiring speech about friendship and forgiveness? Say things go your way. Say we manage to capture Hazel. What do you think the Superior will do to him?" Jaune had no response, but his eyes went wide with realization. He hadn't thought that far ahead, clearly. Damn shame, usually he thrived under pressure. But now it seemed he had so much to lose that he no longer bothered to think. Cinder gently put a hand on Jaune's arm, leaned even closer. "The difference between capturing Hazel and killing him yourself is negligible. Whatever his fate afterward, you would still be complicit. In either scenario, you are simply another dog at the Superior's beck and call. You cannot walk away with your hands clean when you side with the organization."
"But if I side with you? What, I'm all moral purity?"
"Hardly. But you are more likely to enjoy a future with my stellar company, which I'm certain you'd be devastated without. As well as your aunt, your friends, your family. The right choice is the one which will protect your loved ones. What could be more moral than that?"
"This will protect everyone. The Superior said—"
Cinder poked him hard in the chest with a finger. "The Superior's word? Don't be a fool. Do you honestly believe he will pardon your aunt's betrayal? Are you that naive? Oh certainly he will let us be for a time, give us ample rewards and preach a fruitful future. And all will seem well. Then one of us disappears. Then another. Myself, Qrow, your father. One by one, until we're all cataloged on the missing persons census. Tell me, Jaune, can you provide even a single good reason for the Superior to keep his word?"
Jaune opened his mouth, but no answer came forth. A weak, "I…" was all he could say.
"Precisely. I will follow your plan, Jaune. I will do you this favor. But think about what you are doing here. Are you truly protecting your family? Or are you holding them up before our enemies, begging for mercy where there is none? Are you some spineless brat with a flimsy resolve?" Cinder touched his face as gently as she could, made him face her. She whispered, "Or are you a man? A man who will burn the world down to defend those you love?"
Jaune held her eyes for a moment. So different than she was used to. There'd used to be so much strength in them, but now they wavered, full of confusion, fear, and anxiety. He slapped her hand away and trudged on without another word. Cinder watched him go, feeling a little hurt, disappointed, and a bit ashamed of herself. Maybe she could have come at it better. But then, what better way was there? She was not one to mince words.
Cinder sighed and followed after Jaune in silence.
No way… Hazel was getting tired.
Peach had sensed something was off about this fight. Had anticipated an eventual table shift. Surely, things couldn't be as simple as the Vicar not being strong enough to defeat Hazel. But as the fight dragged on, as Hazel landed blow after devastating blow, as the Vicar pecked futilely at his iron skin, the more comfortable she'd become with the logical outcome. What a mistake that now appeared to be.
While Hazel had still yet to take anything resembling an injury, his shoulders rose high and sank low, his face scrunched with irritation, his hair lank from sweat. That veneer of unbreakability, that impassive and dominant posture was slowly eroding like weather wearing statues back into shapeless lumps of stone. Steadily, patiently, inevitably.
The Vicar by comparison was a ruin all over. Strips of armor had been torn away, revealing patches of purple skin from Hazel's savage punches. One leg suffered a particularly nasty looking wound on the thigh, bleeding terrible A wound which should sensibly cripple her ability to walk, let alone fight. But no. The Vicar stood straight and ready, just as if she had never been injured in the first place, or simply could not feel them. She strode toward Hazel with the same quiet confidence that she'd had since the beginning, losing not a speck of it despite how very blatantly she'd been getting her ass kicked. Now, Peach was wondering if she'd truly been losing at all. And that left her more anxious than ever.
What was this girl's game?
Those light beams were back again, but they may as well have been pebbles thrown against a brick wall. Hazel's exhaustion did not suddenly make his skin breakable, barely even flinching as the beams struck him again and again, failing even now at a single wound. By now, Hazel had gotten some energy back and assumed his indomitable stance once again. Peach let out a sigh of relief. She'd been concerned for nothing. It only made sense for the Vicar to be strong enough to give her predecessor some trouble, but in the end, time and experience trumped all. Hazel would win.
New Vicar and old charged each other, but Peach was confident it would result in more of what she'd seen already. She respected the girl for her spirit and talent, but it wouldn't be enough. Peach managed to feel a bit of pity for her. Fighting this hard for a man who saw her only as a skinsuit. At least if Hazel killed her, it'd spare her from that fate.
Peach got to her feet. There was no point in watching anymore. She should use this this chance to find Qrow and Cinder, then—
Just as Hazel the Vicar were about to clash, some idiot came out of nowhere and jumped between them. Peach might have scoffed at the fool bold enough to interfere in a fight between these monsters, but then she recognized the blonde hair, and her heart nearly burst out of her chest.
"Jaune!" She screamed, bending her knees, tightening her legs, then launching herself with all her strength. Once she landed, she sprinted toward him to pull him away, and would have succeeded, had another idiot not appeared in her way.
Peach skidded to a stop as Cinder's glass sword pointed at her face. Cinder herself, ever the wild card, wore a rather grim frown, as if someone had given her a task she hated having to do. Peach has no time to even ask what she was doing, looking fearfully over at her son.
Jaune had caught the Vicar's spear on his sword and held it. What's more, he scraped it aside and kicked back, only for the Vicar to vault away. Hazel had already withheld his fist, momentarily surprised, then his face setting in hard once again.
"Jaune, what are you doing here?!" she called, attempting to get past Cinder, but her old apprentice simply stepped in her way once again, looking her straight in the eye and shrugging. "Cinder, whats—"
Just before Peach could get out the question, Qrow and Oobleck appeared as well. Qrow stood at Hazel's back, scythe not pointed at him, but certainly at the ready. Oobleck sidled up to the Vicar, who looked up at him, no doubt as confused as Peach was.
Peach looked at all of them one by one. Qrow met her eye, looking sorry, but equally as confused and uncertain. Oobleck was somehow back in perfect condition, as if all he'd needed was a short break to heal his mangled arm and battered body. Certainly there was no healer Peach knew that could pull such a feat. Then she turned to Cinder, heart beating madly in her chest at the inconsiderate look on her old apprentice's face. "What in God's name is going on here?"
Cinder sighed. "I don't know for certain. I'd say it comes down to what your nephew decides."
What Jaune decides? What the hell did that mean? Peach turned to him, having no idea what to make of the situation. A long silence passed, where only the distant crackling fires and crumbling bits of building were all that could be heard.
Hazel was the first to break the silence. "Back for more, Bartholomew?"
Oobleck stared back evenly. "I'm afraid I was left rather wanting."
"Is that so? I recall leaving you broken near death."
"Proof indeed of your failure to finish the job."
"There is still time." He turned to Qrow. "And you, why aim your scythe at me? Do you not obey Victarine?"
Qrow looked between him and Peach, tired and conflicted. "Not sure who to listen to right now."
"Hm." Hazel turned to Jaune. "And you. What happened to staying out of the deep end?"
"Guess I'm too much like my aunt." said Jaune.
"It appears so. What do you have to say which beggars such urgency?"
Jaune met Peach's eye, and she could see a deep remorse from the way his look softened. Then, he turned back to Hazel. "You need to run, Hazel. Get your people and get out of here."
A beat of silence. But one in which Peach had no idea what to say, she was that shocked. It seemed she was not the only one, for even Qrow and Oobleck seemed surprised by his suggestion.
Hazel spoke first. "Run, you say? Why?"
"The Superior. He sent me here because he wanted me to stop the war. Try to save as many lives as possible. I figured we can all walk away from this with most of our people. Let's end the fight now."
"Why give me the chance to escape? Had you all simply attacked, you'd have had a better chance simply defeating me. Why risk sparing me?"
"You spared me once. I wanted to return the favor. That and we've got a bigger problem on the way. Zulhetl."
That name instilled more fear in Peach than anything else had so far. Even Hazel's empty look twisted into an annoyed frown, because even he knew how dangerous this Grimm was.
"You get it?" Jaune continued, "Everyone is in danger. It's not worth fighting anymore. Let's just cut our losses and run. Please."
A period of silence. Peach looked at Qrow, who had no idea what to do, then at Oobleck who seemed skeptical himself. Whatever the circumstances, Zulhetl was the ultimate wrench in everyone's plans. Even Tyrian Callows knew better than to mess around with an S-class Grimm. They were unpredictable, often unchallengeable. The best chance of survival was running.
And yet… this was Hazel's closest and best shot at getting to the Superior. So was Peach's for that matter. If the Superior didn't die now, then Jaune would be in danger. They'd all be. Even Zulhetl's appearance couldn't be allowed to get in the way of that. All of a sudden, the possibility of losing everything seemed likely on both sides of the battle, making her wonder if they'd all been playing into some grand scheme.
She looked at Hazel and they shared a nod, knowing their plans couldn't change under any circumstance. "Jaune, honey. Please get out of the way."
Oobleck had already stepped up beside the Vicar, weapon at the ready. And the Vicar herself stood up straight, cracked her neck to one side, then twirled her spear readily.
Jaune looked at both sides, an incredulous look on his face like he was the only one with any sense. He turned back to Hazel in a panic. "Didn't you hear what I said? An S-class Grimm is on the way to kill us all and you still want to fight? What's left to fight for? This war isn't worth it!"
Hazel adopted a look of pure disgust. "You know nothing, boy."
"Can't you see that you're not going to win? Why fight? Please, just save yourself. You can't beat the Superior. Don't let your people die for nothing. Please!"
Hazel stared down at him. "You had more bones when I last saw you. How thoroughly the Superior's whip has tamed you."
Peach saw Jaune turn to her, begging with his eyes. But even if she wanted to side with him, Peach knew she couldn't. She held her hand out to him, beckoning him to her. "Whatever the Superior told you, he can't be trusted. Come here, honey. It'll be alright. I'll protect you." She turned to Qrow. "The plan hasn't changed Qrow. This is the only way to protect the kids."
He looked conflicted but in the end he stepped up beside Hazel and pointed his scythe at Oobleck.
Everyone was squaring up now, most decided on their roles and allyship. All except Jaune… and Cinder.
"Cinder, you know better." said Peach, "Jaune has been fed lies and you know it. There's no point in trying to stop us. Take Jaune and get away from here."
Cinder was strangely quiet for a long, uneasy moment. Then spoke to Jaune without even looking at him. "What are you, Jaune?"
He looked distraught. Gaping around, unable to find the words to argue. His weapon shook in his hand, either from struggling to keep hold or from gripping it too tightly. He called his eyes shut. "Hazel, please just run away. I don't want anyone else to die."
But Hazel was unmoved. "Your mistake was offering succor to your enemy. If you love your aunt, your family, then all else is unimportant. You should be willing to do absolutely everything to ensure their safety. To crush all obstacles in your path to preserve everything you consider precious. A man must even do evil in the name of love."
Jaune lowered his head. Hair hiding his face. Peach again tried to get to him, but again Cinder stepped in the way. She called to Hazel, "Whatever happens, Jaune and Cinder are not to be harmed. They're no threat to you."
Hazel nodded and stepped around Jaune, gently pushing him aside like foliage in a trail. The Vicar made ready to meet his approach, while Qrow and Oobleck advanced on one another. Peach was about to push past Cinder, only to stomp.
Hazel had barely taken a step forward before he was suddenly, forcefully, jerked to a stop.
Jaune had grabbed Hazel's huge wrist with one hand. Snatched it like a parent yoking up a disobedient child. Stopping the hulking man dead in his tracks. Peach's heart began to pound furiously in her chest. She still couldn't see his face.
Jaune let out a breath, it almost sounded relieved. "Cinder?"
"Yes?" Cinder responded.
"Burn the world, if that's what it takes. Right?"
"Yes."
"I need your help. Please."
Cinder's frown grew into a smirk"I do love it when you beg. Very well. You go ahead. I'll keep my dear Master busy."
Jaune addressed Hazel then. His voice growing colder and darker by the second. "You're right, Hazel. You and Cinder are right. Guess I wasted my time with this. I should do whatever it takes to save my family," Jaune said, "Why do you think I decided to beg? Did you think it was my first option?"
Peach could see that Cinder's frown was turning into a cruel grin. Her heart was pounding, especially when she saw that Hazel put in some actual effort to pull his arm free. And even then, Jaune's grip could not be denied. The pressure in the air grew heavier.
"I didn't tell you to run for my sake." Jaune said, "I told you to run for yours."
It happened so fast that Peach barely caught it. Jaune let go of Hazel's wrist, and in the half second it took for Hazel to take back his arm, he had already lunged forward with his sword, now inches from Hazel's face. He struck Jaune with the back of his fist, a blow Jaune managed to block, even if it sent him skidding back several feet.
Hazel huffed. "You fool. You have no—" he froze.
Hazel put a hand to his cheek. It came away with blood. Red, wet, no doubt warm blood. Undeniable proof of his mortality. A shallow cut in all. Paper thin. But the reality was plain.
Jaune could wound Hazel.
And suddenly it made entirely perfect sense why the Superior would send Jaune on such an impossible mission. The Superior did not intend at all for a ceasefire. He knew Hazel wouldn't agree to it. This was all a ploy to make Jaune and Hazel fight. What better way to test a potential vessel?
And it seemed Hazel realized this. For his expression darkened with fury… and fear. And it was all directed at Peach's baby boy. She cried out in horror, "Hazel, no!"
But it was too late. Jaune dashed off in a burst of incredible speed, heading into the yet unruined part of the city. Hazel right behind him. And the Vicar behind him.
Oobleck was just about to follow, but Qrowanaged to intercept him. So too did their battle begin.
Peach was ready to hurry off, but Cinder cut her off for the fourth time. "I'm afraid not, dear Master. Your son has entrusted me to keep you occupied. And we all know how much a love a good task."
Peach did not bother to withhold her fury. "What the hell is wrong with you, Cinder? Don't you understand what's going on? Hazel will kill Jaune. Is that what you want?"
"Oh, have more faith. He is stronger than you think," Cinder grinned, then threw a sword cut. Peach jumped several feet back, allowing Cinder to summon her second sword, scraping both together and creating sparks. She giggled. "Oh this is so exciting! How long has it been since we last sparred? Three years? So much has changed since then. So much! I hope though, you haven't grown weaker in that time."
Peach brandished her scalpel with a snarl. "Oh please. Nothing has changed. You're the same arrogant little shit now as then. I'll crush you just the same. You have one last chance to get the fuck out of my way!"
"I don't think I will," Cinder smiled broadly, "you'll crush me just the same? I wonder about that. You say nothing has changed, but your own arrogance has blinded you. I suppose now is as good a time as any."
Peach felt the pressure get insanely heavy. Heavier than she'd felt in anything so far. Elephants standing on her shoulders. It was reminding her of her sister's Alter.
The sky began to change. The black sky began to shift and brighten into an eerie scarlet red. There was an absolutely massive dark hole in the sky. As if a black hole had entered the planet's atmosphere, and its slow suck had started to make the black clouds form around it. Flames burned at the edges of the gaping pit, as if it were obscuring the sun. Or perhaps it was the sun itself, only someone had sucked all the energy from it, leaving that empty gap. If indeed it was empty.
Now, something had formed around Cinder, a kind of black substance. Thick and bubbling, like hot tar. It bubbled around her body, stuck to her, taking on horrific shapes. Screaming faces of the tortured, grinning skeletons, crying children, all moaning like the awakened dead. Hands formed as well, claws more like. They clung to Cinder's body. They patched onto her arms, her legs, two coiled around her neck, one cupped her breast, clutched it so hard that it made Peach hurt just to see it. Another hand on the other side slithered over her belly like a hungry slake, slowly slid between her thighs…
Cinder's face was the worst part of all. She still wore that evil smile, eyes popping wide, but now a single tear had tricked down her cheek. Almost seemed like an accident. It gave her a look like she was suffering a horrific nightmare. Her mind broken beyond repair.
"Three years it took me. But I mastered it, in the end." Cinder grinned, "Are you proud of me, Mother? Am I good enough now?"
Peach could only feel absolute dread. She would have taken the Vicar over this. Anything over this.
Cinder had dismissed her weapons and palmed her hands together, like she was about to pray. Her golden eyes shining bright in the encroaching darkness. Evil yellow dots. Cinder's twisted laughter seemed to echo. "Overshadow Technique… Immolation Ceremony."
Oh God this one took forever. But I hope you all enjoyed it. We're reaching the end of this war and I'm so excited for the next couple of chapters. See you in the next one.
ISA