Desiderium

Chapter Two

In general, Edgar would say that he had quite a lot of patience for the trials and tribulations of life. Due to his vast intelligence compared to the rest of the people of Remnant, he was sure he would be able to have quite a comfortable life in general; he had always been a grade-A student and even managed to gain a scholarship into Beacon's prestigious R scholarium as even they recognised his talent. He was even lucky enough to have the same friend since he was a boy on the same level as him, which spared him from the awkward process of trying to fit in with others.

However, as much as he respected his friend's academic talent, they did not always see eye to eye on certain things. For one, Bron had an unhealthy habit of being too trusting and optimistic when it came to the value of their lives, namely the fact that they were waiting at the settlement exit for a stranger that he had only met last night and had now hired to safeguard them as they performed their research. A completely random man! Never mind the fact that he could be an insane serial killer looking for two defenceless young men to violate and then chop up in the woods.

Chewing his finger, Edgar could not stop thinking about the possibilities that awaited them: Grimm, murderous bandits and now a possible axe murderer. By the brothers, what a mess.

Bron was currently speaking to the militia captain who was in charge of the gate and who could be let in and out. Edgar stopped chewing on his finger and paid more attention to the conversation.

"-Please, sir, you don't understand. You must allow us to leave. So many lives could be potentially saved! Thousands! Millions!"

'Yeah, that will be sure to convince him.'

Edgar accepted their fate and looked around at the settlement—Lamplight, it was called. The paint on the walls of the buildings was peeling off, and even the cobbled road beneath them was in dire need of repairs. The only structure that looked in decent condition was the large manor house at the far end of the settlement, towering over everything else.

'Wonder whose home that is?'

"Look, I don't care if you're the bloody second coming of the King. I got orders to only let people out into the wilderness once we deal with the bandit problem, and that's final. Now clear off."

The militia commander's grizzled look, wrinkles, and deep-set eyes indicated that he did not have the patience to deal with two school students. Bron huffed and made to say something else before Edgar tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention.

"That's enough, Bron; we should think of something else." He gestured over to the side of the gate where a couple of benches were in front of the toll office. Sitting down, Bron immediately began complaining.

"For shit's sake! You would have thought that we lived in Atlas with all these restrictions! Can't go here, can't go there, bah!"

"Did you forget that there was a murderous bandit out there? I don't know about you, but I enjoy my guts where they are."

"Oh shit!" Bron slapped his forehead, "What will we do about Grit?"

"Who?"

"The guy we hired?"

"You mean the guy you hired?"

"It was a rational business decision, and it would've paid absolute dividends if we could LEAVE!" He shouted the last part at the Militia Commander, who was smoking and ignoring the pair. Bron looked down at his watch and saw that the time was eight-thirty AM, making him groan, "Great, well, Grit should be here any minute now. Hopefully, he'll be late, and we can figure something out."

"Oh, joy. The possible nutcase you picked up will surely have a plan to help us out. Can't wait to see how that turns out."

"You know Ed, maybe if you pulled that giant stick out of your ass, you might notice people will be nicer to you."

Edgar was about to reply before he noticed that the sky had suddenly darkened. Turning around, he found the source to be a large man looming over them with a frown on his severe features while his greasy, matted hair framed his face.

"I'm here." He stated it as though it were the most obvious fact in the world, which made Edgar's eyebrow twitch.

"Obviously, you oaf, you're blocking the sunlight." Edgar sniffed the air, "Did you even wash? You absolutely reek."

"Ed!" Bron admonished, "This is Grit. Grit, how did you find getting here?"

"What's the problem here?" He asked, ignoring Bron's question and nodding towards the man at the gate instead. Bron sighed in exasperation, and Edgar rolled his eyes at the coming rant.

"Well, it turns out that world-changing research is not a valid reason for being able to leave a hick town in the middle of nowhere, so it's either we get the shuttle back to Vale or hope that bandit up and dies."

"Push comes to shove; we might have to take our punishment like men and try again another day." Edgar supplied, not entirely thrilled at the prospect of failing but also unwilling to lose his life. Grit strode past them and towards the captain, who raised his eyebrow but said nothing as Grit approached him.

"What's he doing?" Edgar asked as Bron watched on in fascination. Grit reached into his bag to pull out a rolled-up piece of parchment, showing it to the captain's face.

"I…I don't know. A message? A picture? I can't see." They saw the captain's mouth drop slightly in surprise as he pointed at Grit and the poster. Grit said something and began rolling it back up before flicking the left side of his cloak open, revealing a nasty chainsword that hung from his hip. It was a dull silver colour, with the teeth chipped and rust-covered patches around the engine box.

It looked like it was only designed to cause as much pain and suffering as possible to any victim it tore into.

Edgar felt slightly vindicated.

'Knew it. Psycho axe murderer.'

"Woah! That's a nasty piece of kit there, " Bron said, and Edgar silently agreed. They lost focus on the conversation between Grit and the Captain, where the latter shook his head in exasperation before gesturing to the two of them. Grit said something else, making the captain fall silent until he withdrew a piece of paper and handed it to him.

"What's that?" Edgar questioned as Bron tried to lean forward to get a closer look. Failing at that, Grit returned to them, handing the paper to Bron to hold.

"Here. A warrant of passage for us, you hold on to it."

Edgar and Bron looked at the piece of paper in the latter's hand, looking it over multiple times to confirm it was genuine.

"How the hell did you manage to convince him? I've been here all morning, and he didn't budge." Bron asked as Grit rubbed his nose for a moment before shrugging.

"Told him how important for your research it was." Edgar narrowed his eyes.

"But why would he believe you?" The tone of accusation was not missed by anyone, especially Grit, who stared at him for a moment before rubbing his nose again.

"Just told him I was a guard for hire and that if I didn't do this job, I wouldn't be able to feed my family."

"And is that true?"

"For him, it is."

Bron laughed, but Edgar felt something unsettling in his gut as he looked at Grit, specifically his eyes.

'He's hiding something.'

"Well, we should probably get a move on, wasting daylight and all that," Bron said, standing up and picking up his rucksack, followed by Edgar.

"There's one more thing before we go," Grit cut in and the two men looked at him as he stuck his palm out, "My half."

Edgar turned to look at Bron, "His half?"

Bron shook his head and began rummaging through his rucksack until he withdrew a pile of Lien. Edgar's eyebrows shot up in surprise and then furrowed back in annoyance as Bron handed it over to Grit, who deposited it into a little pouch and then stuffed it into his duffle bag.

"Woah, hang on a second here," He jabbed his finger into Bron's chest, "Why the hell are you paying him now? He hasn't even done anything yet."

Bron rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"Well…that was part of the deal. We pay him half now and half when we're done." Edgar rubbed his brow in agitation before turning to Grit, who looked past the gate exit and towards the wilderness. Edgar marched in front of him and then jabbed his finger into his chest, catching his attention.

"And you. How can I trust you not to run off as soon as it's convenient for you?" He questioned, jabbing his finger into Grit's chest again. Grit huffed in irritation and brushed his hand away, then turned to walk towards the gate but turned his head slightly to answer Edgar's question.

"You don't."

Edgar watched as the giant of a man spoke to the captain again, with the captain shaking his head and lighting up a cigarette. Finishing inhaling, he detached the radio from his hip and spoke into it; after a few seconds, the large metal gates began to rise from the gate, allowing them to leave. His gut twisted at the thought of them going, but he knew they were in too deep to back out.

Not that he would ever admit it, though, mind you.

Bron slapped him on the back and then gave him a reassuring smile.

"Come on, Ed. It'll be an adventure; think of the stories we'll be able to tell!" He exclaimed, making Ed smile slightly but say nothing in response as he followed Bron's lead.

'If we ever come back alive to tell it…'

He quietly thought as he readjusted his backpack containing their prize work and all their hopes.

The two young men followed Grit as he took point through the woods, cutting his way through brambles and tearing through branches, making sure it was clear for them. They had been travelling for hours with only Edgar and Bron conversing between them, sometimes loudly in arguments or hushed whispers to ensure Grit couldn't hear them. However, Bron noted that he didn't seem to care what they were talking about, allowing them to discuss a good spot for their experiment.

"Surely we would want to be in an open area for it. It would give us enough space to make clearer observations." Bron suggested as Edgar shook his head.

"No, a tighter, enclosed setting will allow us to manage a smaller sample size that can be controlled and depending on how that goes, we can move onto a larger setting. A cave or digging a large hole might work.

"Do you see any caves? Did you bring anything to help dig a hole?"

"…No."

"So, then we'll experiment with a clearing, which will give us ample space to run and allow the merc we hired to do what he's paid for," Edgar grunted in response. Bron allowed himself a smirk of victory, after which he jogged after Grit, whose long, tattered cloak flowed behind him.

"Grit! A question, if you may?" His silver eyes flicked down to him before refocusing on the path.

"Hm?"

"I was wondering if we could stop near a clearing soon. I think we're ready for the first round of our experiments." Grit said nothing in return but swivelled his head around a few times before shrugging his shoulders.

"We'll push on for a few more minutes and then make camp." Bron clapped his hands.

"Wonderful! I'll let Ed know the plan."

He fell back to walk with Edgar again to continue their discussion or pick a new one. Edgar glanced between the trees, in the air and even on the ground as his finger got closer to his mouth.

"Ed." Said Bron, catching Ed's attention. He motioned his finger to his mouth, and Edgar's mouth opened slightly before removing his finger.

"Thank you, Bron." He quietly thanked him, and Bron smiled sadly back. For as long as he had known Ed, he knew when he was anxious, and his most apparent tell was when he began to chew on his finger. He'd been doing it since they were just boys as a way for him to cope with stressful or aggravating situations. They walked for another ten minutes. Grit led them into a clearing, and Bron marvelled at its serenity. If it weren't for the birds chirping and other forms of life making themselves known, he would have thought this was another world.

'Imagine being able to explore parts of the world like this without the Grimm?'

"We'll pitch tents here. There's a stream a couple of minutes that way," Grit gestured to his left, where the faint sound of rushing water could be heard, "It's not going to rain tonight, but it will tomorrow, so we will keep moving first thing in the morning. I'm going to get firewood."

Grit pulled the sack over his shoulder and dropped it to the floor before walking off to collect firewood and dry leaves. Bron and Edgar watched him go momentarily before dropping their supplies on the ground and unfurling their sleeping bags onto the floor. After a few minutes, they were done and began to fuss over Bron's other bag, which held their prototype. It was slightly bigger than Edgar's hand, shaped like a rectangle; small spikes came out from the back, and a red light was off. He held it with both hands as he walked away from the campsite for a minute before setting it gently on the ground.

"Don't worry. Remember, if it breaks, we have a few backups." Reassured Bron as Edgar scoffed.

"There won't be any point in having backups if the system doesn't even work in the first place. Bron, I know I told you to relax yesterday, but I'm starting to have second thoughts."

"About this?"

"About everything." Edgar gestured to where Grit had gone to get firewood, "There's something not right about that guy, and you know I'm right. Why was he so eager to come with us?"

"I wouldn't say he was eager; I asked him to."

"He doesn't even know what we're doing out here. He hasn't asked any questions and has barely spoken to us since we set out other than to bark directions at us." Edgar reached into his pouch to pull out a dull lightning dust crystal and attach it to the device's spike attachment. They waited a moment as the device whirred and then fell silent. "I don't know about you, but that raises the alarm bell for me."

Shaking his head, Bron tried to find the words to express why he knew hiring Grit was a good idea, "Look, I won't lie and say that I don't find him strange as well, but something about him tells me that we can trust him. Besides, we would be either bandit or Grimm bait if he weren't here." Standing up straight, Bron saw Grit come out from the treeline carrying a few logs, which he then dumped in the middle of the circle of sleeping bags and began constructing a fire.

"Excuse me! Can we have you for just a moment, Grit?" It seems he didn't hear them for a moment as he continued to work on the fire, which he appeared to get lit in only a minute through blowing and a stick and a rock. Straightening back up to his full height, he turned to look at them, his cloak concealing the front of his body. He then walked over until he looked down at their device with them. "Ready to earn your pay?"

Grit shrugged, "Suppose so." Bron gestured to their device, and Edgar held a remote in his other hand, getting ready to press the large button in the middle.

"Do you know what the number one factor is that keeps the Grimm from attacking the walls of each kingdom?" Bron didn't wait for Grit's answer, "It's Hunters. A dwindling resource is the only thing keeping the rest of humanity from being eaten, so how about a resource that doesn't require manpower or the cost of misery? This is me and Ed's prototype Grimm repellent device, which we've been conceiving of since we were just wee lads. Finally, after a year of conception and designing, we will take it out on a test drive, and you get to be our first witness. How do you feel?"

Grit's facial expression didn't change from his usual sullenness, but his gaze was slightly curious as he beheld the device. He took it in from every angle, trying to answer a question in his head that neither young man could figure out what it was. He turned to them with an eyebrow raised.

"Bit small, ain't it?"

"That's usually what a prototype is, although I wouldn't expect you to know that." Edgar bristled before Bron could answer his question, causing him to swat Edgar on the shoulder and then apologise to Grit.

"Excuse him, he's had a lot on his mind."

"Don't speak for me-!"

"To answer your question, Grit, this is only what we could produce on our budget and time before we came out here. This device," he gestured over to it, "is only the first iteration, so before we can make changes and acquire funding from Beacon and the Council, we must prove it works."

"So, how does it work?" Grit asked as he walked around it.

"Well, as you know, Dust powers everything, so we first must attach it to such. Dust also shares some common properties with Aura, as Grimm have been found to be drawn to large pockets of Dust reserves. The device is then composed of small vibrational motors which will make the crystal 'sing' - so to say -, which is then tuned to the frequency of a very below average Aura use." Bron motioned for the other two men to follow him to get further away from the device as they crouched behind a log. "When it goes on, it should have enough power to lure a small Grimm, such as a juvenile Beowolf, over to it, where it will be too distracted to notice us. Ed, if you would please."

Edgar pushed the button, and the device whirred to life, emitting a low humming sound but not loud enough to annoy the men.

"I have a question," Grit asked as Bron nodded for him to go while looking for any Grimm, "Why did you call it a repellent if its purpose is to attract them and bring 'em closer?"

"Because if it is mass-produced, then theoretically it will be possible to build them industrially sized, which will be placed away from a settlement or kingdom. This will repel them away from the walls of humanity. Clear?" Edgar had answered instead, making Bron groan at his combativeness. Grit said nothing in reply but instead motioned with his eyebrows towards the device, which was now attracting something from the tree line, which sniffed and snarled as it came into the light.

It was large. Wired muscle filled its broad frame, standing over seven feet tall but walking with a large hunch on its back. It was as though a bastard infusion of a wolf and a man stood before them, with its pitch black fur and blazing orange eyes through its white mask, bore its fury at the small device that called to it. Stalking over, it swung its head left and right, sniffing the air as it continued to examine the area.

Bron couldn't help but let out a small gasp of delight as the Beowolf seemed to take no notice of them behind the log and hurriedly whispered to Edgar, who was also excited by the excitement.

"Ed! Ed! Look!" Bron whispered excitedly, pointing to the device, "It's working, really working!"

"I know, Bron, I know. But we must keep watching. I don't think that's a Juevnile. Are you taking notes?"

"Ah, shit! No. Hang on, let me get my, uh…balls, I seemed to have my writing tools over by the bags. Excuse me, Grit?" Grit looked over at him with a deadpan expression.

"I heard you already; you don't need to whisper. Do you need me to go get your homework supplies?" He spoke at his standard pitch, seemingly unbothered by the thought of being seen or heard by the Grimm. "Gimme a second."

Standing up, he strode back over to the bundle of supplies to begin rummaging through as Bron made mental notes in his head and observed the experiment. However, he noticed that the Grimm reached out with its large clawed hand above the device and pressed down, crushing it completely. There was a pause for a moment as Bron and Edgar looked at each other and then at Grit, who looked up from his searching to see the Grimm clawing at its head like a rabid animal as it snarled and yipped.

The two men watched as it began frothing at the mouth and slamming its arms on the ground before focusing on Grit, who had now stood back up again. They could do nothing but watch as this Beast began sprinting on all fours towards Grit. Shouting towards him, Bron witnessed as the Beowolf leapt into the air and sailed towards Grit.

"LOOK OUT!" It was going too fast; there was no way Grit could get himself out of the way in time. However, it seemed he did not need to, as his feet slid apart a bit. His right hand shot out faster than they could see to slam his fist into the side of its mask, causing it to crack and the beast to collapse onto the ground dazed—faint wisps of black wafted from the creature's broken mask as it struggled to get back up. The beast managed to stumble to its feet and tried to swing for Grit in its sluggish way, but it was still not fast enough as Grit's other hand reached down to his right side to withdraw a double-barrel shotgun inlaid with gold markings to shove into the beasts snarling mouth. With a squeeze of the trigger, its head exploded and then slumped to the floor. Dead.

Snapping the shotgun open, Grit reloaded the empty barrel with a shell he pulled out from underneath his cloak and then snapped it back shut before holstering to his side again. They watched as Grit stood over its fading body, staring a hole into it as though he were waiting for its answer. Bron made to speak up and thank him for the help when he was stopped by Grit raising his leg and beginning violently stomping on its disintegrating body, managing to generate satisfying cracks and snaps as he destroyed its fading ribcage. Bron could only glimpse Grit's face as he went to work; it was a cross between a feral smile and a monstrous snarl.

Bron didn't know it was possible for a person even to make that expression and was mildly disturbed that it was the most emotion he had seen out of Grit since they had met. Eventually, Grit stopped, as its body had entirely disappeared, and he would merely stomp the dirt instead. He turned to face them with that same mask of disinterest and mild annoyance, his silver eyes back to their usual dull colour.

"I'm going hunting. I will be back in half an hour." He said before turning away again and stalking off into the treeline.

"Uh…Yeah, sure." Bron lamely replied, knowing he couldn't hear them anyway, and went back over to Edgar, who watched with something now warming to…pity? He wasn't sure and honestly didn't want to know.

"Told you. There's something not right with that guy." Edgar said, but without his usual venom and hostility, he walked over to the fire and rearranged his sleeping bag.

The image of Grit's face flashed in his mind again, and while he was grateful that he was here to keep them safe, he also couldn't find it in him to disagree with Edgar.

'Just a few more days, and then we're out of here. That should've been the worst of it, right?'

The silence of the woods replied. He looked at the crushed prototype, which flashed red occasionally in a warning.

'Right?'

Authors Notes:

100 Fires: Hey mate, thanks for the kind words. I won't lie to you; I did give up for a bit as I wrote my previous story. What discouraged me was that I was falling into writing cliches that I swore I would never do. Also, reading back through my work, I realised I was making up a lot of it as I went along, didn't proofread what I was doing, and was just writing words for the sake of writing. However, the thought of leaving something like that unfinished didn't sit right with me, and neither did continuing, so instead, I reset it. I also wanted to keep the chapter lengths to a minimum of 3000 words and a maximum of 5000 words to keep it tight and more focused.