Chapter Text
Red
“A pale moon drifts sleepily in the indigo sky. Its face glows bright but cracked, broken fragments of light drifting off into space. Long ago, the moon was given the name, Fortuna, as a symbol of luck and destiny for the people of its planet, as it bestowed them gifts of which previously no ordinary man could wield. But luck is a double-sided coin in this universe, and though humanity controls the powers of knowledge, creation, and choice, both man and the creatures of darkness control the power of destruction.
These creatures of Grimm set their sights on man and all of his creations. These forces clashed, and it seemed the darkness was intent on returning man's brief existence to the void. However, even the smallest spark of hope is enough to ignite change, and in time, man's passion, resourcefulness, and ingenuity led them to the tools that would help even the odds. This power was appropriately named ‘ Dust ’.
Nature's wrath in hand, man lit their way through the darkness, and in the shadow's absence came strength, civilization, and most importantly, life. But even the most brilliant lights eventually flicker and die. And when they are gone... darkness will return.”
- Passage of a long-forgotten fairytale
Snow descended from the sky, mingling with stars that dimly glowed lightyears away. A line of cliffs splintered the land, frost glazing the furthest edges and cascading down to the forests below. It was a necropolis of black-barked trees, long dormant amidst the ice and somberly waiting. No birds chirped or beasts bellowed, as if all life was in quiet mourning for the warmth of the sun.
A small figure walked out of the woods, a bright stark color, contrasting against the monochromatic landscape. Their face was hooded underneath a deep red cloak that billowed in the wind. Crimson petals trailed from the tips of their cape, falling softly to the earth. Their presence was as striking as a flower blooming in the dead of winter.
At the tip of a cliff, where the trees dwindled and disappeared, lay a silver gravestone resting in the snow. The Hunter slowly approached the little grave. They brushed off the stone, revealing a large rose symbol carved into the block. Below it, words were written onto the stone.
Summer Rose
Thus Kindly, I Scatter
The Hunter kneeled, silently tracing their fingers along the smooth engraving. After a lingering time, the cloaked figure placed a small bouquet of white flowers at the grave’s base. Standing, their voice trembled gently.
“Happy birthday. I’ll be back soon.”
Small footprints were left as the Hunter strolled back into the forest. They followed a snow-covered path, the trees creaking as they passed. A sudden snap of a twig caused the Hunter’s head to shift towards the sound. From the corner of their eye, something large dashed away, just out of sight. The Hunter tensed but kept onward.
They emerged into another clearing, this time in the middle of the forest. There was no cliff and no gravestone, just the barren ground. The Hunter’s path cut through it, leading to the woods that continued on the other side. They made their way to the center, then stopped.
The field echoed with guttural growls. Swiveling their head, the Hunter found themself surrounded by the blackness of beasts. Beowolves, a dozen of these tenebrous, wolf-like creatures. Stalking forward on their hindlegs, the monsters’ glinting red eyes pinned themselves on the cloaked figure. They lifted their snouts up high, sniffing the stench of misery that had lured them there.
These creatures were of the darkness, driven by a primal hunger to destroy. With ferocious speed, they surrounded the cloaked Rose, ready to leave only a gory corpse behind. The wolves leaped into the air, their cruel claws outstretched, and their teeth craving to bite into a weak neck.
However, such sickening pleasures were not awarded to the beasts. Where there once was a cloaked body, only a whirlwind of rose petals remained. The monsters landed and shifted their eyes, looking for their quarry.
These creatures, though evil, were young, inexperienced, and ignorant. They did not yet know of their vulnerability, how weak their adolescent bodies were to those of men. So as flower petals swirled up in the sky, they saw a girl suspended in the light of the moon. When she stared at them, her eyes did not despair in fear at the monsters, but burned a silver light. The scales of fortune tipped, and as she turned in the air, the predators became the prey.
In one movement, the girl reached behind her back, pulled out a red and black rifle, and fired. A beowolf's head burst into chunks of dark matter, its body crunching into the snow just seconds before the girl landed. Stirred by the spilling of blood, the hoard rushed forward. The girl felt the familiar warmth of her aura hum through her. A faint shimmer of red energy glowed over her body like a second skin, acting as a barrier against harm.
A beowolf lunged. The girl leaped over its head and shot the back of its neck, using the recoil from her gun to propel her upwards. In the air, she blew a gaping wound into the side of another beowolf, before rolling into a landing. She turned and pulled her trigger against the same beowolf’s chest. Its body flopped to the ground, leaking black blood onto the snow.
With a low metallic whine, the rifle spun in its wielder's deft hands, gears and pistons shifting it to unfold into a deadly mechanical scythe. She turned her piercing eyes to the wolves. For a brief moment, the creatures halted in place. The girl's heartbeat thundered in her ears as she waited for the first to move.
A beowolf broke the standoff, swinging its gangly arm as it charged. The girl sidestepped it and hooked her scythe around the shoulders of the beast. It turned towards her, baring its serrated fangs. Her response was a playful smile.
The rifle section of her scythe fired, slicing the edge of the blade through the beowolf’s sinew and flesh. The girl’s weapon curved like a crescent, glinting in the moonlight. Pure red painted the sky as her cape unfurled with the sharp twist of her body. Howling in rage, the hoard trampled over the fallen corpses that were already dissolving into pulpy flesh and shadows.
Fortuna gleamed as the battle ensued. Spinning her scythe, the girl drove the blade into the ground, training the barrel towards the incensed creatures. With each crank of her scythe’s bolt handle, the spent bullets unloaded and pitched into the air. The wolves fell, bullet wounds spewing black gore.
Charging forwards like a living shadow, a beowolf dodged the barrage and swiped at the girl’s legs. The girl jumped and blasted the beast in midair. The force of the attack launched her backwards, forcing the girl to hook her scythe into the ground. Members of the pack continued to spill out of the forest. Her bright eyes flickered between each monster.
As she reloaded her weapon, a beowolf reached for her. The girl twisted away from its grasp, sending it stumbling around her. She slid herself down so she was parallel with the staff of her scythe. Then, the girl blasted another approaching wolf, sending her and the scythe spinning like a bladed saw. Her feet struck the muzzle of the grimm that’d tripped behind her, sending it sprawling onto the snow.
Feet planted, the girl immediately turned to counter the grimm she had shot before, the thing mutilated but still alive. She spun her weapon with great dexterity, brutally slashing the legs of the beast. The momentum of the swing positioned the scythe behind the girl’s back. Seeing its chance, the second beowolf sneaking up on her lunged.
A bullet was fired into the sky. The recoil sent the weapon spinning back around, its blade ripping into both grimm that had surrounded the girl. One monster remained standing despite its multiple gashes, blood and drool dripping from its jaws. As it veered out of her blade’s reach, the girl pulled the trigger of her rifle. The bullet shattered its teeth, and the girl used the momentum to attack the grimm in an unavoidable volley of cuts. With one last shot, its mangled remains dropped to the ground.
Yet another grimm tried to lunge at the girl, despite the carnage it had just witnessed. As punishment, she turned and thrust her weapon behind her back. It hooked up and around the beast’s thick neck until the recoil of her rifle sent its head rolling.
Lithe like a dancer, she sprang over the dissolving bodies and dodged an attack from behind. The beast recovered quickly and surged towards the girl again. She ducked under its claws and ensnared the wolf’s torso in the curve of her blade. Peering through her rifle scope, she aimed her scythe at the grimm approaching behind the beowolf. The shot blew up the grimm’s skull, simultaneously cutting the hooked beowolf in half.
Flecks of foul-smelling blood splattered around her. The girl stuck out her tongue in disgust before backflipping over two pouncing monsters. She turned her blade around her body and sliced one of the beowolves. The scythe’s weight carried itself too far behind her. Realizing this, the girl gripped the staff behind her back and spun her entire body around to attack the grimm.
It howled in anguish as she missed and severed its arm. The girl remedied her mistake by carving up the rest of it. Grip readjusted, she readied herself for the next grimm charging towards her. She swung her scythe in an upwards arc and curved the scythe around its nape. Holding onto her scythe, the girl rolled underneath the beowolf and jumped onto its shoulders. Blade held at its neck, the grimm released a gurgling snarl as she fired a shot and decapitated it.
The girl was thrust upwards from the kickback of the shot, her scythe raised above her head. She looked on mercilessly at the grimm who’d not yet been culled. The beowolves turned their faces to the sky and rushed towards her, jumping high into the air.
A shot fired. Its force hurled the girl down to earth. Her boots perched on the stomach of a beowolf that had leapt up to meet her. In half a second, she carved into its neck and put a bullet between its eyes. The recoil thrust her off the beowolf and higher into the air. With another shot, she corkscrewed down into another beowolf and hacked it with her scythe.
The moment the girl killed the beowolf, another saw its opportunity. Razor-tipped claws struck her midsection before she could land from her fall. The strike sent the girl’s body skidding away, leaving scattered trails in the snow. She sank her blade into the ground to stop her momentum as a scream ripped itself out of her throat. The girl looked down towards her stomach, clutching a hand over the waning light of her aura. It was pulsing red and near breaking. If she were hit again — made a single mistake — there would be no second chances. Smelling the stench of fear wafting into the winter sky, the beowolves prowled towards her, panting with perverse hunger.
She needed to end this fast.
The girl’s youthful face darkened. With a quick twist, she removed her scythe's previous magazine. A new, embossed cartridge was pulled from her hip pouch and loaded. She took a breath, then pulled the trigger of her reloaded scythe. That single bullet launched her towards the monsters faster than any speed she had gone before.
Petals scattered in her wake. She sliced through the monsters lightning-fast, cutting them down like weeds in a garden. The beowolves flailed as she hacked through their numbers with the silver swing of her scythe. Aiming her weapon behind her, her rifle’s muzzle burst with black energy. The pull of gravity became irrelevant, her body accelerating so instantaneously that the tips of her boots lifted above the ground. The sheer weight of the scythe had her back arched, her arms hefting it far over her head. One click, and her scythe’s blade extended into a pointed glaive.
She slashed through the grimm, spinning with her weapon. Heads detached from their necks as the girl crudely carved through the mass. She slid across the smooth ice before continuing her massacre. Bullets were shot, blowing apart the bodies of grimm. The scythe gleamed as the girl danced to the sound of gunfire and agonized howls. She and her blade synchronized, the weapon acting as her partner to their song of death. Her feet and hands moved with vivacious ferocity, dismembering appendages and slicing beowolves into smoke.
Detached limbs and rose petals catapulted into the night, as the girl slaughtered the horde of darkness. Her body danced faster and faster until the last grimm fell from a point-blank bullet to the head. Rolling with the momentum of the expulsion, the girl drove the bladed butt of her scythe into the earth and vaulted back onto her feet. She landed in the light of Fortuna, clasping her scythe behind her back as bullet shells rained from the sky.