Several passed him by. Some stopped to look, to gawk, to speak; it didn't matter.
It never mattered before, and it wouldn't matter later.
Jay, despite the free hands he'd been afforded while confined within the single locked train car, did nothing with them. Instead he sat against the wall, his eyes locked pointlessly upon the containers of dust. A strong enough jostle would be enough to ignite the entire train, and yet the only thing that would hurt him would be the debris shot flying from the blast.
The flames would not burn, and even if he died, another variant of himself would be born; this, strangely, scared him most.
The fear before paled in comparison to the accursed knowledge that neither he, Josh, or anyone from Earth gained any sense of peace from death. They simply died, scattered into dust; their souls reaped to be shoveled into the next thing in need of life-giving breath.
Every death rebuilt him, refueled him, but he wasn't the same. That thing didn't permit him true resurrection, and yet its words were all he could go by. Every miniscule change it made altered him on a fundamental level, in a league no others may touch. This, in turn, became the mercy Remnant's people carried over he and Josh: their souls remained unique, no matter the body's alterations. Rebirth and resurrection would eventually come for everyone.
Jay stood, his legs weak, but salvageable, and pondered actually trying to break free. Instead a warmth radiated from his pocket: imaginary, but potent enough to draw attention. His lucky bullet, now between his fingers, irked him. A little bit of fury, honestly, but still too much to ignore.
Its job had been to kill him on the day he felt fit to let everything go, but now it reminded him of not only the truth of death, but also of the one who copied his being.
Was he even himself anymore? he wondered, unsure of who to ask.
No one in Remnant, that was for certain. How do you tell someone you're little more than a recycled copy of someone they once knew? whichever one that may have been. All the world's troubles seemed so small with his head in the clouds, and he wondered if he ever had a chance to live in the first place. Remnant seemed so wild, interesting, and free of his past mistakes.
But he went and made new ones.
New issues which bite down twice as hard. New mistakes which rampaged far beyond simple low grades and drunken words. Mistakes that cost lives. The thing to remake him, rebuild him "better," wanted Ruby dead. What was he to do?
I can't.
Ruby... The only chance Remnant ever had at redemption. According to the story, she died in the final confrontation with Salem, who herself came to loathe the chaos they'd all been forced into. Ruby gave Remnant everything she had, however not all of it was good. Most of her choices set in motion the world's ultimate demise, and when asked by Salem if she'd do it all again...
Ruby said no.
She gave up.
The scraping of steel alerted him to the introduction of Roman Torchwick, who strolled in with a contrived flare; artificial in every way, but known only to Neo, Roman himself, and the titular viewers of the series who'd seen how he acts when stressed. His cane slapped the metal floor which conjured a harsh echo.
"Still kicking, kid?"
Jay blinked, unwilling to engage. Roman in turn shrugged, apparently ready to continue his walk - which he did. However, amidst passing by, a comment broke from whisper; left behind as the man stepped out the other door.
"Brace yourself."
For what? Jay didn't ask. Only when he leaned back against the wall and let his head drop did he notice the small card on the ground. Muted intrigue, more or less thoughtless wondering, guided him to swipe it. While not a technical expert, he assumed it had something to do with security, based solely on the number and the strip along the end. Almost every door on the train had a card swipe, but rarely did they ever open based upon it.
And then he pondered if their purpose had been more specific.
A stupid idea to be sure, but he strolled up to the door where Roman had left. It refused to zip up automatically, as it did for him. One manual attempt proved it to be locked - again, as it should have been. Briefly, he swiped the card through the reader, and the door slid up. So these were locks.
Why? It didn't add up. Cinder had him under watch, so why had Roman given him a way out? And that warning...
Jay's legs carried him out, and up he climbed to stare over the rest of the train. This would be where RWBY and Oobleck would come face to face with an explosive challenge, and if he recalled right, the very car he'd been locked in had introduced Raven for the first official time; through flesh and blood, and at the expense of Neo.
Neo's exclusion meant that flash of excitement laid farther away than whatever Roman's plot here entertained.
I shouldn't be here. Both in Remnant, and atop the train. But where else could he go? The train car had nothing to offer, and chasing Roman would only expose the both of them; or not, as Roman wouldn't dare corner himself in such a way.
In the distance he heard grimm howling, agitated as they usually were.
That had been another experience entirely. While barely of enough mind to care for more than a sideways glance, the grimm only really barked at everyone around him. Never once did any meet his eyes, even when passed between. How the cages held the beasts could only be attributed to Cinder, as the flimsy steel should have had nothing on an ursa's brute strength.
Something odd struck him as he stared into the distance.
Maybe his sight had blurred, or the lingering dust in the air had finally clouded his eyes, but Jay swore he saw what looked like several swaths of White Fang soldiers rushing around. With little else to do, and already in the shitter, Jay traversed the top of the train both carefully and quickly. About four cars over he could see clearly the event underway.
"How... Why?" So many questions today; his frazzled brain couldn't take much more. Instinctually he stepped back, and his thoughts rolled ceaselessly trying to make sense of it.
Ruby's petals strung the scene together, stitches interwoven between the battlefield as she ping ponged from foe to foe.
Weiss controlled the land, its properties a boon to her allies, and poison to all others.
Blake's shadows split constantly, and every attacker greeted little more than smoke for their efforts, only to be put down immediately after.
Yang Xiao Long led the charge, violence her brush and the White Fang her canvas. Every swing, every step, they all cleared droves of men and women as she effectively mowed the lawn.
Neo swayed casually between the folds, invisible to everyone and dealing in lethal blows.
Melanie and Miltia ground the fight, their moves not so flashy, but solid and harsh as they put their teamwork to the test, leaving no enemy under the wrath of one alone.
How they got here, he'd probably never ask, as when Jay locked eyes with Ruby for a mere second, he spun on heel and ran. She couldn't reach him, he wouldn't let her. Seconds flew by, counting off tempo under his own racing heart as he darted into the conductor's car. Roman and one other, Perry if the glasses said anything, twisted and shoved on questionable faces.
"How'd you get out?" Roman's question lacked all urgency. Rounding quickly, he spun his cane round before taking it under a solid grip. "I'm impressed; didn't think you had it in you."
"We need to leave."
Roman chuckled, sighed, and leaned against the console filled with buttons and leavers.
"Listen kid, as much as I'd love to, Cinder's orders are absolute. Not even Perry here's allowed to ditch jobs."
"Team RWBY are tearing up the scene." Jay made sure to accentuate that part for Perry alone, as the fact Roman's escape key found its home in his grip mere moments before an intervention by both RWBY, the twins, and Neo said it all.
The gangster's expression slipped, somewhat at a loss before he pulled up a brow.
"And... you chose to come to us with this information instead of, I don't know, leaving?" A short scoff marched behind, and Roman grinned. "Or are you afraid of what they'll do to you after the whole "troublemaker" stunt you pulled against the families?"
"Cinder wants me out of their hands." If Roman wanted to play dirty, then Jay would dunk his hands in the mud. "If they get me, she won't just threaten you, she'll kill you."
"Oooh~" Roman hummed a little tune. "Pretty big head on your shoulders. Did you get all that ego from a recent string of successes or...?"
"If Ruby dies, so does everyone else." He didn't care what the monster claimed, and the fact it wanted her dead only intensified the gravity of the situation. "If I get too close to her, I'll kill her."
"Okay..." Roman lost his amusement, burying all the previous leniency underneath a grave of coals. "You're not making much sense. What does the kid have to do with anything?"
Jay gave up at that point and left with little fanfare. He didn't bother to look back. Ruby had come; she'd search the train; she couldn't find him. And, with nowhere left to run, he aimed his dash off the train and deeper into the tunnel, one that would soon be left in ruins once the assault on Vale fully began.
And it would begin. The timing hardly mattered when everything fell into place. The train had nowhere to go but forward, and if luck for once smiled his way, he might find a ditch to delve into a little ways up - until the train passed, and Ruby left his presence.
.
.
"Good evening."
"Miss Fall?" Lil'Miss had been lost in the reports from the raid some hours earlier. "Apologies, but do we have an appointment?"
She certainly didn't remember scheduling a meet-up with the often unreadable troublemaker.
"Oh no~" Regardless of her admittance, Cinder seated herself comfortably in the one chair before Lil'Miss's own. "But I have an update you simply must hear about."
"Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait." Lil'Miss noted something then, an oddity that only popped up now as she gazed into the darkness behind her guest. "Pardon, but who let you in?"
"A few friends of mine."
"Might I have their names?" Whoever allowed security to be taken so lightly needed to be dealt with.
"Of course."
Cinder Fall lifted one hand, snapped her fingers, and in marched two individuals who really, really shouldn't have been there. For the first time in years, since she'd lost her little boy, did Lil'Miss feel true fear. In walked two alpha beowolves on their hind legs, each one's gaze focused squarely on her.
"What is this?" An attempt to maintain her composure had been made, although it proved ineffective as Cinder's chuckle set the scales.
"These boys here are going to be your new personal bodyguards."
An open palm had one regurgitate a bottle of Mistral branded Heat-Seeker wine into its hands. It gripped the bottle nose, and a crunch signalled the shattering of glass as it ripped it off. From a burst of flame a gilded chalice raised. The beast poured a glass-shard filled drink. Cinder sipped it without issue. The dial of stress swiftly jerked higher when the skin along the carrying arm melted into black, rotted to the bone, and shivered as white clawed nails extended.
The inhuman woman vanquished the chalice, and grinned.
"Once upon a time, sickness and filth would render me broken, but there are some things in this world that carry no such limitations."
"What are you?" Every hair along her neck stood up, and waves of frosted air radiated from the small flickers of flames behind Cinder's eyes. Skin reformed, and the fleece-dressed wolf licked fresh fingertips.
"Far more important than you will ever be." Up on two legs, she stepped over to lean in, and with eyes mere inches away, Lil'Miss heard the seal of the shackles around her wrists. "But you may call me mistress~ From now on, I own you."
"W-what do you want from me?" DAMMIT! Her voice never faltered, but Cinder's new presence, so unfathomably vile, disrupted nearly every function in mind and body.
"Oh?" The pressure instantly let up when Cinder took two graceful steps back. Lil'Miss had to stop herself from admitting thanks even in her own mind. "Now that's the simple part. I need you to... forget about someone~"
"Name them once and never again." She clenched her teeth, but Cinder looked not to care for either tone nor action.
"Jay."
"Him?" Oh no... Oh no no no! "What importance does he hold that I'm not meant to see?"
"Far more than you wish to know; this I promise." The flaming steel of a new blade bisected the cushioned chair Lil'Miss often offered her guests; dismissed not a moment after its demise. "Leave him be. He is ours already. Fail to do so and... Well..." The duo beside her growled and hissed. "I don't believe I need to get into the specifics, do I?"
"I see your point." Lil'Miss hoped that would level things, just a tad. Respect could be given, and clearly, she'd unfortunately overstepped her boundaries.
"You do?" Cinder wore half-lidded, lazy eyes. "Someone so used to getting her own way truly understands her position?"
"I know when, and where, to talk." The steadiness came back, paired with an understanding all its own. Had Cinder wanted her dead, she'd be dead. Sourly, this meant the bitch had other ideas in mind. "I take it that your "assets" there don't come freely."
"I knew you were wise." Cinder's beasts paced forwards, and for a moment Lil'Miss had been tempted to deal a hand. But her instincts won out and she refused to act. This appeared to reward her with an unusually simple task. "I need someone with a multitude of available dust caches on hand. Think you can donate any spare reserves to our dear friends under Adam's command?"
"Taurus?"
"The one and only~"
Accosted on both sides for who knows how long going forward, Lil'Miss agreed to her temporary surrender.
"It will be done."
"Wonderful~"
.
.
Officially, Vale now had a massive problem on its hands.
Clover had been suspicious the second he got a ping telling him Lil'Miss had ordered him to take up a post in the storage house with which the big four used for common purposes and... well, storage. He checked with three or four people for the sake of clarity, and they all had similar orders. Normally, she'd have one of the other's give him such simple instructions, so naturally he opted to abandon his lone post and check things out.
His first tentative steps into the foyer of the main place, of which he'd occasionally guard from time to time, presented him with nothing less than a bloodbath.
Gored corpses sat flipped over furniture and railings. Bodies littered the stairs. A hurricane of chaos recently rampaged through, based on the fresh odor of death to sock him in the nose once he opened the doors. His eyes stung, and he cleared them - a couple of times, actually - before he pulled out his solitary pistol. Most everyone else had automatic weapons, with a few custom pieces here and there once belonging to the very dead huntsmen who'd thrown their lot in with lil'Miss.
He'd followed the path of blood, not so much afraid as being on guard, before his few minutes trip took him up a couple floors. He knew that, whatever Lil'Miss had gotten herself into, didn't at all involve him - in her mind. And so, he had to be discreet. His idea to ask for clarification on his orders at the front desk became moot with things this bad.
The main door into her office was starkly off limits to all but the invited, however he didn't need it. Like most bases of operation, every discussion room or living space for the important carried alternative entrances and exits; not a secret at all to anyone, but a fine enough deterrent as any would-be assassins knew that they had only one shot to move in for the kill; failure meant the target got away, and at that point the wannabe killer had signed their own death certificate.
Clover learned about the closet inside, which connected the lower kitchen to a small latched shoot behind the fireplace. Thankfully, even with it lit, the flames never spilled over, which allowed him to watch through them as two grimm and a woman just as monstrous presented his unofficial employer with an ultimatum.
If the grimm, or the woman herself, had known he had witnessed it all, none showed it.
His escape played out easily, too easily for his nerves, and every second of freedom as he traversed the sewers on his way back to his assigned post were fraught with nervous glances back and forth. During it, he called up the general; a risky play, but an essential one.
"Who is this?" General Ironwood's voice wore fake ignorance, to which Clover simply spoke.
"Black Queen's Scribe." That single code phrase, of which he wasn't allowed to use unless absolutely necessary, silenced his true leader.
"O-two-hundred. Break point."
Author's note
...
A little less exciting than I would have hoped, but we're careening towards a few major events.
Jay's finally starting to question his unofficial master, and along with that, Cinder has taken control of Lil'Miss. Clover's there too, however his role seems minor, besides getting Ironwood up to speed about… things.
On the plus side, we're finally about to get a few major developments, for more than just one or two factors.
Apologies if any of this reads weird; I caught a sickness while writing this, so my focus is a little hazy.
Until next time.