《RWBY: The Good Son》 The Ice Prince The Schnee Palace, as some would name it, stood superior in the snowy capital of Atlas. In addition to the spacious manor, acres of the courtyard and the event halls, and the world famous theatre, took up more land than the mansion itself. My father did love to boast his wealth. There wasn''t much influx of guests other than rich ''friends'' of my father''s, although it didn''t daunt me to stick around and greet my future colleagues. They would prove to be useful when the time comes. I knew the ins and outs of these social hierarchies. My older sisters were away from the manor, leaving me with much more time on my hands than needed for an individual such as myself. It became lonesome. Klein, our kind butler, was great company, but even he would pace the expansive floors or the Study when the boredom got to him. It was very quiet here. The evening sun was strolling leisurely across the pristine white walls of the third story lounge. The two crystal chandeliers hanging from the roof refracted the light into thousands of rainbows that danced across the room and out into the hall. I was taking a break from my studies and the Schnee Dust Co. numbers my father handed down to me, to enjoy some leisure time. My black dress shoes were hanging off the arm of the antique Mistral armchair while I sunk into its cloud-like cushion. I flipped the page of the book that rested on my lap, of which I was currently indulged in. I wasn''t much of a fan of this particular genre. It was about an adventure of the darker times that shrouded Remnant. The huntsman in the story was a lone wolf who fought for what he believed in. Sometimes he did it for the people, but mostly it was for himself. About a quarter into the book, the huntsman took an odd request that led him to disastrous trouble. He had misjudged the securities of a hostile bandit raid. The huntsmen was able to obtain his objective, however, the leader didn''t let him get away so easily. That was how the huntsman had lost his eye. But he got the rusty weapon he was sent to find for the cost of it. The rainbows started climbing the chair I lounged in. I sighed and closed the book, not bothering to put a bookmark in to save my progress. I wasn''t planning on finishing the book; huntsmen were barbarians in their ways of handling the tasks at hand. My clean and groomed nails reflected the light into my eyes, making me blink, when I set the novel on the mahogany coffee table. I pulled back into the chair. I observed them, holding them out and then pulling them close and angling them as to catch the rainbows in the air. I was mentally comparing my nice and untarnished pale hands to those calloused leather things of the savage killer''s in the book. There was probably filth in-between every one of his nails from the barbaric things he did. Never cleaning them; the filth stacking, marking each foul deed he did like a cursed tally system. And yet it was just an action filled story to entertain an audience. He probably didn''t have a purpose either, the huntsman, I proposed to myself. Rambling about looking for entertainment, his sick form of an adrenaline fix. I, Whitley, on the other pretty hand, have a very different mindset from this vigilante. I was going to follow behind my father''s footsteps. Become the businessman he was, the former businessman he had lost touch with. He wasn''t doing a swell job at this moment in time, even though he handled it accordingly. It was all sunshine and rainbows to the public''s eye. I could only see it getting worse. Growing until it threatened to bury the company from within. His hard work and dedication, his life''s investment being ruined.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. I slid my legs off the armchair and planted them on the ground, sitting up and straightening my back, which was relieving in contrast to the position I was in prior. A door clicked somewhere down the hall. Maybe a house servant checking the many rooms, I figured. It wasn''t just the external problems that were plaguing the Schnee Dust Company, per se. My father didn''t trust many with his rather, ''personal'' line of work. There was a knock coming from the open entryway. A familiar housemaid peeked her head into the glittery lounge. "Whitley, sir, must you always draw the curtains so high?" She squinted and shielded her eyes with her painted nails, a small smile played on her lips. The maid leaned off the archway and approached me so I stood up, she was taller than me. I folded my arms behind my back and stood up taller. Her smile was very readable now as she stood within arms reach. Her misty indigo eyes watched him playfully. She placed her hand on top of my combed frost-nipped ivory hair, gently enough as to not untame it. "Did you grow since I''ve been away?" The maid questioned with surprise, as she measured her hand to her chin. Last time she did that my height was to her neck. I couldn''t stop myself from returning a smile, her sudden appearance was an excellent gift for the dreariness of the day. "Mhana, how good to see you," I said cheerfully. "How was the trip to Menagerie? Excuse my manners, here, have a seat," I gestured to the chair I was sitting in previously. "Thanks Whitley," Mhana said, she lingered where she stood. "But I''ve only come by to say hello, as Mr. Schnee has requested for my company. Even though I''ve arrived just this afternoon." She swept her bushy peppered-snow braid behind her shoulder. "If I can find the time to fit it into my schedule, I''d love to catch a tea with you sometime this week," Mhana said as she leaned in and planted a motherly kiss on Whitley''s forehead. "But you know your father," she pressed, "he tends to push me around more. Because I''m a Faunus." At least she was here again, looking out for me. Sometimes when your father works from sunup till sundown and your mother isolates herself, you lack a valued parent figure. I sighed. I knew of my father''s views on Faunus, and they weren''t very highly, as when he views his ''rich'' friends. I took a mental note to speak with him diplomatically about how his management was going at the manor, any stress distressing him. He usually kept in mind his son''s concerns. "That won''t be a problem, I''ll make sure to talk to him sometime when he''s not so busy," I told Mhana, while I collecting my things from the lounge. Mhana drifted over to the curtains and was gingerly setting them down, the sunset racing with them. "It was good seeing that you''ve kept yourself out of trouble since I''ve been away," she said while focused on tying the cords to the wall. She was referring to my semblance. Mhana must have seen the title of the book I was reading. I turned to see her walking back to me. "Of course I kept myself out of trouble," I replied, us walking through the archway separating the lounge and third story hall. "Although it''s not easy training my semblance and studying for the exams coming this month." "Oh I''m sure you''ll do great," Mhana said with encouragement, like a mother believing in her son. "With both of those," she said nodding her head in sure agreement. We approached the flight leading to the entry hall. "Talk to you soon, I''ve missed you," I said, one arm beside my back, the other holding the railing. "You''ll always be my favorite fourteen year old in the whole world, no matter what," she said with tears in her eyes, making them sparkle like sapphires. Mhana watched me again before she descended. I watched her down until she disappeared down a doorway. I pouted like an upset child whose ice cream had fallen from the cone. Some prince of the Ice King, I was. Red Neo was smirking as she approached menacingly towards Ruby who was suspended in the vastness of the sky and the Grimm sailing below, her hands wrapped around her scythe, hooked into the hull as if it were life support in a losing battle. Their hijacked Atlas ship was on course for Beacon Academy''s courtyard to rendezvous with the White Fang, following the attack on the flying stadium. Ruby had wrecked havoc on their plans before and she still hasn''t learned to stay out of things that did not concern her. Now the luck of the past has decidingly caught up with Ruby, Neo agreed happily to herself. Ruby''s hopelessness gave enough closure for Neo to direct her sight to Roman Torchwick, her accomplice and superior who was going off on a monologue. Neo liked the mocking tone he used when he spoke to Ruby, calling her "Red", and he always kept his composure even when things tend to go off the deep end. From the day Neo was paired with him, she could feel a connection she thought was forever lost. From her childhood stemmed a core coldness that radiated deeply from within, cooling those who attempted to become close with her. She pushed them away though she pulled them close. It wasn''t her but in her core it was her. The she met Roman, the man that spoke out freely to whomever he felt, he poked at her too. But he didn''t let up, as if he didn''t care that Neo was a poison to him. As if he was trying to provoke her, deceiving the thought that Neo had towards the people once around her. But Roman was Neo''s poison. The way he called her name in the heat of battle, the way he treasured his hat in the same way as Neo to him. The deep character of himself and his smile was like dust calling to the Schnee''s. She was his and likewise to Neo. The screech of a Nevermore as it sailed overhead throwing their clothes into a fuss brought Neo back into the moment. She needed to eliminate Red, for Roman. She saw the fear displayed openly on Ruby''s face, much from the man who stood beside Neo; he was laughing. Roman loosened his gifted grey scarf, "I may be a gambling man but even I know there''s some bets you just. Don''t. Take." He said to Ruby, as he leaned on his cane, annunciating the last few words as if they were more important than that girl''s impending doom.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Taking her cue, Neo pressed a button on her elegantly embroidered stowed parasol, shooting a bayonet the length of the parasol itself out the tip. She weaved the blade across the metal hull igniting sparks as her boots clicked with every step toward the girl hanging off the ship. Neo flexed her weapon at the heroine. A flying Grimm appeared out of nowhere and lashed out at the bait at the end of the fishing line but Ruby was not a weak worm, she fended it off with a solid kick to the face, hard enough to hear the crack of its beak. Sending it back to join the growing horde. Neo could''ve taken this chance to eliminate her, but she knew that Roman wanted to toy with her some more. Roman shrugged his shoulders innocently, nearing the two of them. "Like it or not, the people that''ve hired me are going to change the world." He snickered at Ruby. "You can''t stop them, I can''t stop them," Roman drew on, but Neo saw something register on Ruby''s face, "But you know the old saying," Roman continued unaware that something was brewing in the air. "If you can''t beat them---," Roman started to confess, but Ruby lunged forward cutting him off, swinging her body weight up enough to become within arms distance of Neo. It was surprising to Neo, that Ruby still had fight in her, but it was all that was needed for Neo to prepare for a counter attack. Neo was expecting something different and was startled when Ruby pressed the switch above her fingers. The parasol bloomed in a matter of milliseconds as it expanded from its sleek shape into its full composition. Neo gasped at the sudden realization of the play that was taking place. She immediately attempted to re-press the switch to close the parasol but the wind refused. She tried to release her now sheathed weapon but to her horror, her fingers disobayed her. With a gust that threatened to rip her arm from its socket, it snatched Neo from the safety of the ship''s hull and flung her into the open air. Fear took over Neo''s body. Neo turned to look at roman, with a desperate look on her face as she was catapulted away from him with inhuman ferocity. She tried to yell for him but her stammer, forever giving off the impression of muteness, gave no pity. It triggered a walled-out memory of Emerald at the Vytal Festival. Of Em informing Ruby''s team of her introverted teamates. Neo generally disliked the impression of her ''reserved'' personality since childhood, as it reflected her muteness. Neo couldn''t snap out of that picture in her head, of the disheartening illusion that was very well alive at the moment. "NEO!" Roman shouted to her. He stretched his cane out, but it could never cover the growing stretch of space between them. Neo desperately tried to connect her boot with the cane but it was now miles away from her, like the truth that needed understanding. A Grimm flew at her and Neo maneuvered around it, her fingers slipping an inch. "I don''t care what you say," she heard ruby respond, amidst the howling of the wind and the increasing distance causing her words to become fainter, "we will stop them, and I will stop you." It was getting harder for Neo to pickup on their actions, she even tried using her parasol as a sail to get back to Roman, but the interfering currents from the Grimms'' mighty wings were taking her farther and farther away from her companion. Of Iron and Wood From the icy mist he was born. And from the carbon smoke he was reborn. His boots thudded with each step he took. His footsteps thundered, echoing off of the now desecrated Vale. He wasn''t here to watch it crumble to the ground like the dust it was born from. He was there to prevent what was happening, from happening. It wasn''t going how he imagined--no--planned it would follow through. This would go down in the history books, for worse or worst--no--as a catastrophe of such cataclysmic fallout that would revoke his position as General of the Atlesian Military, Headmaster of Atlas Academy, and both of his seats on the Atlesian Council.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. This was why it was stopping here, by James Ironwood''s own damn doing. The Candles Wick Neo''s eyes shot open. Distant gunfire, to the right of her, pierced through the heavy atmosphere of the already ravaged Vale outskirts. She lay there motionless while she regained her senses at a snails pace, haven being flung from an airborne Grimm while still several stories high. Neo''s eyes finally focused, pin-pointing through the gaping hole in the wall, on to the likewise crumbling building across the street from her. The place where she landed reeked of wet coins. It was also wet, she noticed after more seconds had passed. Neo tried to move her arms first, so she could haul herself up. They twitched beside her but didn''t move more. She knew that her fall would take a toll on her Aura, but she hadn''t considered it being enough to shatter it like a mirror. The disheartening thought of being paralyzed in the middle of a war-zone sent shivers down Neo''s dampened back, which ironically, disproved that negative emotion. But still reminded her that she was, at the moment, temporarily down for the count. The concrete behind her clacked as tiny bits jumped and skittered across. "Well, what do we seem to have here?" Said a husky voice coming behind Neo, his footsteps crunching the remnants of the broken building. Neo''s eyes trailed up towards the voice. A little bit of hope fluttered in her insides as she recognized that voice; Mercury. He looked her up and down before speaking again, "jeez, what happened to you?" His sleek silver hair and jacket reflected the moonlight that was invading from several holes in the roof, one right above where Neo landed. Mercury hopped over the small wall of concrete separating them, sending a flurry of dust into the air. They were in what used to be a bakery. The splintered sign of the establishment was no more than a meter behind Mercury''s figure. Mercury looked shocked when he finally got a good look of Neo, his eyebrow raising noticeably. Neo wasn''t in any significant pain, but she was doubting how bad she was actually hurt from the impact. He dusted off his uncreased slate gray and black two-tone partial-zip jacket before walking up to Neo''s side and placing his arms under her back and shoulders in an attempt to gather Neo from the rubble. She grunted as mild pain erupted from her ribs where Mercury''s arm brushed against. Neo elbowed him away harshly. He recoiled drawing his hands back. "Hey!" Mercury exclaimed in confusion. "You want help or n¡ªoh, that''s not great," Mercury whispered the last bit under his breath, but his voice was loud enough for her to hear since it echoed amongst the ravaged terrain of the once bakery. He remained stuck in concentration, and un-mocked concern, for what felt like minutes. His eyes glancing from Neo to the environment around him. She wasn''t sure what he was contemplating. Mercury appeared to come to a consensus. "Stay put-tight for a bit and I''ll be right back, although I doubt you''d be going any where in your current state," Mercury said with a hint of his characteristic sadistic humor. Neo wasn''t humored. "You''re going to need something to bandage you up." Mercury said. "Good as new," he said more so to break the awkward silence than to reassure Neo.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. He stood up and walked out of her line of sight with a casual flick of his hand over his shoulder. She figured he was probably going to raid a nearby shop for makeshift medical supplies. Neo could feel the dampness beginning to spread towards her hips, which wasn''t a telltale sign of wellbeing nor recovery. It''s been enough time for Neo to edge off the shock because she was able to move her limbs, she was going to try to get up again. She had to as she didn''t plan on sticking around any longer for fate to have another go at her life. Neo took a deep breath in preparation for abiding the pain that would soon follow. Only, she couldn''t, which sent her into a coughing fit that rattled her, inflaming the burning pain which was creeping back from the numbness. She gritted her teeth, pushing with her elbows she lifted herself onto her side, grimacing through the pain, and then to her knees until she was looking at the dark stain of blood left behind on the sharp, rigid stone. Neo gasped from lack of air and the sudden resurgence of pain now centered in her back. The Aura she still had left wasn''t recovering fast enough. Neo growled as she picked up her leg and kneeled onto a foot. Her knuckles fought against the roughness of the stone and debris as she slowly hauled her torso up on teetering knees. With a final strain, Neo straightened her back. Neo muffled a cry and doubled over in pain and nearly fell back down, but managed to attatch herself to the horizontal stone pillar nearby. Her depleted aura faltered from the new stress but held. Neo collapsed her weight onto the counter and rested until her breathing evened. Neo took this time to process the number of events that took place. She was seperated from Roman who was still on the Atlesian Control Ship. A Grimm attacked her midair but she jumped it in order to land safely but was thrown when another Grimm attacked them both. She crashed through the building and blacked out on impact and appears to have a gaping wound on her back that probably needs immediate attention as the injury continued to bleed rather concernedly down her back. Fsswoooo. The whistle catching her attention, Neo looked up from her perch towards where the roar was exponentially multiplying from. Her eyes widening as she witnessed the Atlesian Control Ship descending into Vale, illuminating the city, Neo''s horror stricken face; as it approached with its dancing flames from within. "..." was all that escaped Neo''s frantic mouth as the titan of a ship hammered into standing buildings several blocks away from her, undoubtedly killing anyone, Roman, who was aboard that aircraft, if they hadn''t already succumbed to the hellish fire. The shockwave from the impact and the exploding fuel reserves rattled everything in at least a kilometer''s vicinity. Neo secured herself in place, but she was falling apart inside as badly as the miserable buildings around her. Neo was panicking. She couldn''t get ahold of herself. Tears were starting to spill down her cheeks. The hyperventilating was building. Coupled with her injury, it was was preventing her from taking in breaths. Her clothes were too restricting, caging her lungs from expanding and drawing in air; she couldn''t breathe. Where was Roman? Darkness was starting to buzz the corners of her vision. Neo''s fingers panicked to unbutton the corset encompassing her torso in hopes of relieving her physiological torture. She couldn''t get it off because her hands were shaking up a storm, conflicting with her futile efforts. Neo collapsed onto the filthy floor, her movements slowing. She thrusted her hand down into her boot, her final resort before she succumbed, her fingers feeling for the clasp that secured the boot knife in its place. She felt the clasp and yanked the knife out of there, oblivious to the freshly bleeding cut along her ankle. With a quick motion Neo ran the knife under the corset, tearing through it in moments. Her sobs shuddered her hurting body. She ripped the corset off flinging it across the room, exposing her dangerously bruised ribs and stomach beneath the black crop-top; the corset landed with a hollow thump against the far wall. Neo firmly held the five-inch blade with both hands. As the howls of Grimm reverberated through her bones, her pain miraculously began to subside. Her lungs were taking in the musty air of Vale, after refusing her for so long. Neo stood up, freshly numbed by her own disguise of mental torpidity, and ran towards the wreck. Lying discarded and disregarded for on the dusty floor, away from all the commotion, was Neo''s Scroll, her form of communication. The shattered screen lit up. The Ring and Its Gem The Ring leapt behind a pillar of stone that used to be a part of something, but was too defaced to give a hint of its former glory. Two Atlesian Knights were rounding a corner ahead of him, their weapons drawn. His eyes swept the alley past him. The dust was starting to settle in this area, raining from the buildings above. The ideal situation to out these robots were looking him in the face in the form of manhole covers spaced on the ground in front of him. He rolled out of his cover when the mechanical whirring of the Knights drew nearer, and landed next to the heavy solid-metal disc. His hands got underneath the manhole cover, his arm muscles bulging underneath his thin sleeves, and ripped it from the ground and into the air with a single thrust. The knights beeped and whirred as they recognized a target in their sights, their green illuminescent lights basked the surrounding darkness, throwing emerald reflections from his jacket and the metal in his hands. The white armoured robots opened fire on him, much quicker than a human could possibly do as the guns were connected to the robot''s AI interface, allowing them to see from their guns and not needing to aim down the sights prior. An excellent design spec. in his opinion. Sparks flew as the bullets pelted the metal disc and the walls of the alley, escaping into the vacancy past him. His silver hair danced in front of his vision with each impact of the bullet on his shield, and the Knights drew closer together. He leaped into the air, his legs likewise achieving inhuman capabilities. The wind rushed in around him when he peaked above the alley. The metal disc tried to wrench itself from his hands under the gravity, so he let go of it when he was above the Knights. Before it could begin its descent, he placed his feet on top of it and kicked it with tremendous power, all while airborne. Gunfire of his own erupted from his ankles; from the weapon concealed in his feet. The white robots were just beginning to redirect their guns at his new position. The wide manhole cover dropped like a bomb onto the supposed heads of the Atlesian Knights, it wailing from its ventilation holes as it plummeted down. He was ejected with momentum, upwards, from the force of his kick. He heard a satisfying crunch of steel and metal, and electricity breaking lose from the alley below, while he landed onto the roof of the adjacent building, uninjured from that encounter. The gunfire siezed to an end, the weapons dropping to the dusty bricks with a clatter. Now that The Ring had higher ground, he was able to efficiently gaze at the carnage taking place in Vale. Smoke was rising from more than a dozen spots, and sillhouettes of Grimm where sailing through the sky above, more inwards of the city. There remained several Atlesian Airships in the sky above, he was impartially irritated with his side of the battle, for not overiding the Atlesian Knights yet. That would be a game changer and they haven''t even accomplished it yet. He ran and jumped the building next to the one he was on, doing the same further down until he arrived at a location sufficiently far enough from the Knights he took down. Although he got the drop on them, quite literally, but they were resilient beings. His boots clanked with the metal grille of the fire escape. Once he got down, he left the shadow of the building and approached a small but vacant plaza. A lot of the stands and shops were turned and discarded when the people had ran. The Grimm, there now, eyed in his direction. He sighed in disdain toward the minion-like monsters in front of him. He readied his offensive stance, inching his left foot forward at a slight angle, while taking a generous step back with his right. His feet were planted firmly with his knees bent at the ideal angle with master precision to gain the maximum momentum for his spin. This was going to be a piece of cake. His posture drooped for a moment, his head remained high and centered, while he aimed at his approaching targets, calculating his course of action: three rather large terrestrial Grimm coming his way about twenty meters off. They were throwing aside the tarps and wood beams from the stands as they bounded at him.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. There was a distinctive hiss that emissioned from his legs, muffled by his thick black and slate-grey pants, as the pressure tapped out on the hydraulics. Mercury Black was an expert when it came to fighting styles revolving around agility and complex kicks such as: Tae-kwon-do, Muay Thai, and a mix with Capoeira. And this was no different. Clouds overhead shielded the moon. The moolight shining down crept away swiftly, scaling the dreary buildings and the marble fountain at the center, as if it were being chased by a horde of Grimm. Mercury exhaled, releasing the tensions in his core. With a step into a run, Mercury bolted from where he stood and met the group of Grimm with such speed, they didn''t have much time to react. They glared their teeth. Given that Grimm weren''t the brightest to begin with, it was a piece of cake for him. The first shot rang out across this battlefield as Mercury short-hopped and launched a fatal right-footed kick that connected with the face of the right-most Grimm. With an ignition sparked from the force of the kick, his weaponized boot fired a bullet that tore through its head, the momentum carrying Mercury''s airborne motion towards the left-most victim. The air whistled as Mercury''s right-knee flew into its neck, breaking it on impact with a deafening crunch that only fueled his increasing adrenaline. Before their corpses could vaporize into ash, he leaned into his momentum, twisting his body with inhuman speed; increased from his robotic legs. Much like the soccer stars of Vacuo, Mercury''s dormant left leg came back for its own victim this time, he whipped his left heel back, knocking the last Grimm''s head sideways: triggering a round. The shot tore through the final Grimm''s head and the bodies had just begun to disentegrate when Mercury finally met the ground in a recovery stance, his hand and legs supporting his clean landing. The monsters'' dust was added to the city''s. He gathered himself and dusted the dust from his spotless shiny metal boots, as if they were limited edition sneakers and not boring Atlas tech given to him like hand-me-downs. Mercury investigated the surrounding junk and buildings for something useful he could bring back to Neo. From the condition she was in, he knew Neo was going to be immobile until he patched up the jagged hole in her back. The most he could do was find something to use as a bandage to stem the blood flow. The tarps, he figured out, were made of a material that''s waterproof, not useful for stemming blood flow. There was a faint whistle growing in the air, magnified by the openess of the plaza, which Mercury''s ears picked up very easily. Acting purely on instinct he dove for cover underneath the closest standing building. His past had relentlessy bombarded him with situations in which he had to catch the hiss of flying bullets, arrows and darts, that were directed towards him. Except this time it was different. The whistle grew exponentially into a low, threatening growl, shaking the buildings, the gravel vibrating on the ground. Mercury peeked his eyes through the doorless frame. An Atlas airship was descending, more like falling from the sky. It was on fire too. He couldn''t judge where it was going to land, but it was in a different direction from Neo, granting her safety. He also noticed he was in some sort of office, the receptionist deck completely abandoned, and in its place was a sweater resting over the chair. He decided that''ll work. He took his eyes from the ship and went to grab the fabric. Mercury pulled out his Scroll and dialed a combination into it after he collected a few things and rummaged through others. Before his call could go through, a shockwave knocked him off balance, and several objects off the desks. A pillar of flame leaped into the sky where the ship had crash landed in the distance, its fiery glow lit up the plaza and the room he was in. The wave threw off his Scroll''s connection so he redialed as he walked out of the office and back towards Neo''s location. "C''mon pick up," Mercury mumbled into the Scroll. The dial tone went through without being picked up. The fountain beside him had been knocked over and shattered in the time he had been inside. The water it held spilled and soaked into the dust, cementing the debris. He redialed and picked up his pace, practically running back the way he came, speeding past dozens of Grimm drawn by the ship''s explosion. The call went through on the third attempt. "Mercury, what the hell do you need? I''m occupied at the moment," The Gem''s irritated voice came in through the speaker. Gunfire also came through but was muffled by clashing of metal. "Cinder''s going to have my ass when she finds out you left your position!" Mercury didn''t care about Em''s loose threat, as he was wittnesing Atlesian Knights trotting past him, their preexistent illuminescent green lights as seen before, now gleamed brilliant red. He smiled. Team JQG Ironwood lifted his 16 pound revolver, the size of a small animal, a monster of a gun, and aimed it through the smoke. ''Those damn bastards,'' he screamed in his head. ''They took my soldiers, they took lives,'' the barrel of the gun pierced through the smoke, the scene stolen from a horror film. He sneered his white teeth, ''whoever''s responsible won''t live to see tomorrow.'' He could hear the slice of a weapon through the air and the scraping of metal on metal in front of him. As this smoke began to dissipate, the sillhoutte of a student took form ahead. He swung his mace into an Ursa, sending it flying away. His faint expression hinted that he had done it giddily, except he was unaware and at the mercy of two approaching infected Knights. ''End of the line!'' James barked internally. He brought his firearm up. Without wasting a breath, James aimed and fired through the darkness, blasting off the head of one of the Knights. The student feigned away, from the explosive noise, but he wasn''t done yet. He tilted his revolver to the right and blew off the the head of the other Knight aswell. Their metal skulls ripped open on the street. James was furious. The students were supposed to be protected. Defended by his Knights. But no, they had turned. The surprised student ahead turned towards the shadow of a man behind the smokescreen. As the smoke clears, the student''s face grew a shocked expression. The General had survived the crash, his damaged uniform exposing the right half of his body to be cybernetic. He reloaded his gun with two fresh rounds, as the Knights fell to the floor. His footsteps thudding as he entered the grim scene. There were six more infected Knights with their guns raised. Without hesitation, he emptied his chamber of bullets. One by one, the Knights were ripped through. James continuted his dance of death, raining destruction in its wake. He eliminated a target to his left, spun the gun behind his back and took out another. A Knight tried to rush him straight ahead but he unleashed hell upon it, defeating it without a shift in momentum. Another thought it smart to jump him from behind while he was engaged. He saw this and brought his elbow up, directing the barrel behind him, and fired, bringing its motive to an end. He swung his arm up, taking out another to his left with a flare igniting from the barrel. It was severed from the torso. James didn''t so much as falter with his fluid movement against the onslaught of corruption. A Knight attempted to rush his right while he was turned. James flicked the revolver out of his hand, the heavy firearm did the work for him and covered the distance to his right palm in the space of a milisecond. His bionic arm hammered the bot with the butt of the revolver, sending the robot flying into the open air, a dozen pieces of what it once was. He knew these Atlesian Knights were resilient, he assisted in designing them after all, but he knew how best to remove them from duty. All it took was the right material, enough of that material, and unnecessary ballistic firepower. All of which his revolver that he also designed, contained. Once all of the Knights had been defeated and there were no apparent threats, James directed his eyesight to the three individuals who stood a few meters away. One was the student, the others were part of Ozpin''s faculty and of Oz''s personal faction.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. James waved attentively at Glenda Goodwitch who was wearing a modest uniform and Qrow Branwen with his drab grey suit, as well as the student clad in plate armor he recognized as the delinquent Cardin Winchester, trying to grab their attention. "This area''s secure! We need to--," James commanded, but was cut short by the change in Qrow''s expression. It was unwelcoming. It was angry. Qrow jutted his greatsword out, its blade unhinging in several spots as it grew in size. The massive blade curled inwards, recalibrating its form. He flung the blade behind him, its handle tripled in length and the form climaxed into one hell of a scythe. It was intimaditing enough to cause James to ready himself in the chance Qrow was going to rush him. Qrow swiveled his immense scythe at the ready, directing towards him. And he charged at James Ironwood. "Qrow! This isn''t my doing!" James shouted at the now angered hunter, but was lowering his arms to his sides. He didn''t want to engage in battle with Qrow. He was too skilled of a huntsman and their expertise were evenly matched at Ironwood''s current state. The huntsman continued to charge. He was fast even though his mammoth scythe was dragging across the pavement. The general hoped against it, but if needed, he would take him down too. If that meant him getting through. James flips his gun in his hand and gets into a battle stance, preparing for Qrow''s assualt. He carefully watched Qrow''s movement, as he was anticipating a horizontal dash. Instead, however, Qrow jumped vertically, throwing off his perception of the moment. He was leaping past James, who was turning around to follow his aerial arc, just in time to see an unnoticed large Griffon that had prowled by, lunging at the two of them. It must have been following him since his crash, James established although he was more than equiped for the silent ambush. James turned his posture following Qrow''s, to be at the ready when the Griffon struck. But Qrow took care of it before James could swing at it with his revolver. With one solid lurch, his scythe cleaved straight through the beast. Slicing it in two. Its halves settling to the ground beside them. Upon landing with a grunt, Qrow turns around and frowned at him. He addressed the general with no haste. Qrow scoffed, "you idiot. I know you didn''t do this." His peach eyes tore into him, as if they were searching for a meaning behind what was happening with his militia. Ironwood relaxes and sighs, lowering his head and putting his hand to his forehead, while Glynda places her hand on his shoulder. He couldn''t believe that he doubted his life long comrade. He was ashamed with himself for acting the way he did. He was too agitated to think clearly. "So what now, General?" Qrow asked, his eyes sweeping the ground before landing on James. James Ironwood, rested his arms behind his back and stood up tall, readjusting his feet, and gave them the synopsis he had collectively formulated. "Someone''s done the impossible and gained control of my machines. And that enormous Grimm seems to be fixated on the school." his eyes glancing upwards toward the dragon clinging to Beacon''s main tower. He turned his head to Glynda. "Glynda, form up the local Huntsmen and establish a safe zone here in Vale. We need to evacuate Beacon." She nodded in agreement, her messy blond hair shifting. "Qrow, I''m leaving that to you and my men." I need him to gather anyone he could and protect them while they evacuate. "I still need to get to my ship." As if on cue, a whistle began cutting across the sky, startling the three of them. They all turn to see its source: James Ironwood''s ship slowly nosediving into the city not that far away from them. An explosion surged from the ship, causing more flames to leap about the vessel, making them recoil from its force. Then ultimately, the airship collided into the abandoned buildings, inflaming the sky above it and demolishing the buildings it crashed into. The intense shockwave nearly knocking them to the earth since they were neighboring it. It took a few seconds for James to regain his bearings after that invisible beating. He was seeing the same response from his comrades beside him. "Well, it won''t be much of a walk." Qrow quipped. Mechanical whirring surrounding them from all corners brought the immediate back into attention. The Atlesian Knights that were functioning still had kick in them, attempting one last time to harm the huntsmen before powering down, even though significant sections of their body''s had been blasted into oblivion. Embracing Truth The falling dust was threatening to blur Neo''s vision as she ran across the tarnished battlefield, her blood leaving a trail like bread crumbs from a fairytale. All of the anxiety coursing through her veins, keeping her afloat. It wasn''t smart, what she was doing, but she didn''t care. If it meant finding him, she would do anything. But the fear clung to her. What if he was gone? It was suffocating. Neo pushed the saddened conviction out of her head the best she could, even if it did linger at the corner of her thoughts, she would find him. This couldn''t be the end of his fruitful career. There was so much going for them once they were through with that bitch Cinder''s blackmailing. The witch of a human being, her ashen-black hair and her Dust infused crimson dress painted her of hellspawn incarnate. It was terrifying when she was angered. The gold gilding screamed like molten lava when her semblance was initiated. It was intimidating enough to push Roman to do her bidding. That''s why they were here in the first place. Her tunnel visioned attitude seemingly kept her on track, it was barely tackling her, the fatigue was felt everywhere. Now was the time she could push through. The inevitable would happen regardless, Neo was merely prolonging it. Because, although miraculously Neo had been able to nullify the pain of her injuries, it wasn''t meant to last. She stumbled not once, not twice, but more than she could inactively count before the Control ship came into view. Neo stopped in her tracks. Her hands clinging to her wound as fresh pain began ebbing back, both mentally and physically. Her anxiety remained intoxicating her bloodstream. The ship was in pieces everywhere. It was camouflaged in the rubble from its crash. And smoke veiled the destruction. The hope of finding Roman was becoming smaller with each sullen step she took into the metal graveyard. Now that she was here, she didn''t know where to start. There wasn''t even the slightest chance that he could still be alive after she had rambled about, moving from one hunk of wreckage to the next. She wiped away her tears with the backs of her gloved hands, because the palms were soaked with her blood. Neo lastly approached the carcass of the cleaved airship''s stern, ducking under a large metal canopy with wires and skeletal bars protruding from the rip, it used to be the housing of the ship. Now the shadowy darkness had truly come. It invited Neo to continue hobbling deeper into its dimly illuminated interior. The primary building which caught the falling airship and tore it in two still remained standing, however, the ship had barrelled past it and farther, the smaller apartment catching the torpedo of a bow. It gouged through its residential gut, creating an unsupported tunnel that ran deep. It was difficult for Neo to see more than an arm''s length in front of her, but there was dim pulsating light up ahead that was attracting her, like a compass that gave direction to her search. She didn''t sense any abnormalities in the darkness surrounding her, particulalry noise as that was all she could percieve, there were no Grimm in the cavernous tunnel yet. And the building wasn''t going to crush her, as it remained silent despite it looking like a tornado hit. Neo passed in-between what used to be a counter. Several pieces of wooden furniture were ignited with growing flames, soaked from some flammable substance. It reeked of it. And alcohol from the bar that no longer contained filled bottles of liqour. The glass and other things crunched beneath her boots.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Except for a single bottle that was scratched and knicked to oblivion. Its rose contents remained placid and undisturbed, the bottle laying on its cylindrical side, rolled up against a wooden beam in the cavity of the back wall. She didn''t have to second guess herself while her glassy eyes remained in a depressed trance, fixated on the bottle that would take the edge of off her current condition. Neo couldn''t muster the strength to lean over and pick it up. She stood there next to it, just staring down at the ugly bottle that had once been something memorable of the top shelf. Her breathing was paining, and the howls of Grimm came from somewhere outside, them finally drawn to the area, maybe from her own anguish, maybe from Roman''s desperation. The Grimm feed on negative emotion. And there was a lot of it sourcing from a single person. She grimaced as she stuck her foot out, getting it underneath the glass bottle, and was trying to bring it up by balancing it against the wood wall. It was slowly inching its way into her arms'' length, for her to reach out and snatch it. Which she did when she pulled her leg inwards, sending the bottle into the open space in front of her. Bloody marks made their way onto the glass, seeping into the many scratches. The cap popped off when she barely twisted it, barely startling her with its echoing pop, the bubbly liquid beginning to fizz out and wetting the floor. Joining the amber innards of its alcoholic comrades. Neo put the bottle to her lips and took a swig of the champagne. It burned going down, stinging her throat. She coughed and a trickle spilled out of her lips. It could''ve been blood or the beverage, but she couldn''t feel a difference the way she was now. But she shortly took another drink while she started again slowly down the channel, the air becoming thicker from the powdered building. The farther she went in it deepened, the air becoming cooler as well. Not so much as to make her exposed skin prickle, as the fires from the room behind hadn''t penetrated this deep into the crash site. And she migrated inwards, away from its added warmth to the cool of the night. Even though she was herself chilly, the alcohol was gently warming her, keeping her throat moist when she was inhaling harmful amounts of dust. Neo was beginning to be distanced from her consciousness. The added effect of the liquor was settling her anxiety, and letting her breathe a little easier. So many images fluttered through her mind, some about the light that was just up ahead, and others were more centered around a particular individual. Roman. Neo envisioned coming across Roman once she passed into the ship, him waiting for her. Poising above the defeated huntress known as Ruby. Him laughing as she stumbled up to him. His cane propped up next to hat as he was laying relaxed on the control console. Roman hopping down from his metal perch to embrace Neo, him accepting her weight as she collapsed into his very much alive and protective arms. Him telling her that it was all over. That they were safe together. They were done and could finally go home together. Together; the both of them. It was a sweet thought. In her mind, one that would fix everything. The end of the musty cavernous channel was in front of her, and the slow pulsating light was sneaking out of a large metal doorway a few steps pass the halved hull. And Roman would be just a few steps ahead, waiting just for her. A few of the ship''s wings were jutting out from the walls of the earthen tunnel. Metal cross beams that appeared to be strengthening the recent structure in the ground. The bottle in her hands was dropped. It finally deciding to give up its endurance and shattering as it hit a sharp rock. It didn''t bleed into the dirt. It''s contents were depleted, Neo was wiping her mouth on her pale jacket''s sleeve. Maybe now she could finally let it all go, she was safe now. Neo muddled forward, the dirt beneath her transitioning to the polished metal of the Atlesian ship. The red light washed over her periodically as she faced the open doorframe. This was the end of her journey. She hesitated. Her legs were threatening to collapse. She took a weak step past the boundary. Thoughts hadn''t been forming clearly anymore for Neo. She crossed into the room. The lengthy control panel was crushed and fried, from crumpling when it crashed. She turned the corner. There was ashen dust coating the landing like black snow. She saw Roman.