Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

                A man slumped against a wall, slowly sliding down it until he was sitting on the cold, hard ground. Every part of his body was aching. His expensive, maroon-red suit was ruined, covered in blood, mud and soot. With trembling hands, he reached inside his suit, producing a cigarette case. Flipping it open, he lit one up. However, this wasn’t the precursor to some flawless disguise. This time, he genuinely needed it. His mind was screaming at him to take a breather, but he knew such an act was impossible under the current circumstances. His team – what was left of it, anyway - needed him.

                As he took a long puff, he heard a faint, but familiar thump, thump, thump of combat boots from the scaffolding above. Soon, a rough hand grabbed his shoulder, shaking him up and down.

“Now is not the time for dilly-dallying, soldier! Get back on your feet!”

                Spy looked up half-heartedly at the figure towering above him. He was a big, burly man, wearing a full paratrooper’s outfit. He was holding a big rocket launcher in one hand, and a shovel in the other. Most of his scowling, bearded face was covered by his helmet, pulled down low over his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’ve finally gone deaf, Frenchie! I SAID MOVE OUT!!”

                Before Spy could muster out a response, though, a large explosion thundered nearby. Wood splinters and rock fragments rained down on them. Soldier cursed under his breath. Looking down at Spy one more time, he reluctantly left him to his vices.

“Dammit! How many times do we have to teach you this lesson, old man?!!!” He screamed into the air.

                Spy watched as Soldier pointed his rocket launcher at his feet, the resulting explosion propelling him high into the air. As he flung himself farther and farther away from him and into the distant battle, he was particularly taken by one characteristic of him. His uniform color.

                Blue.

                With a heavy sigh, Spy put out his cigarette. He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend; a saying as old as time.

                Pulling out his revolver, he checked the rounds remaining in the cylinder. Flipping it shut, he reluctantly got back up.

“GO! GO! GO!!!”

                Sweat beaded down the Russian’s face. Through the screams, shouts and chaos of the battle around him, he stood tall and resolute. As Svetlana roared hellfire beneath him, he let out a war cry:

“RAAAAAAAAAAGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

                He had been fighting for what seemed like an eternity. However, he knew the consequences of failure. His entire world, hell, his very being was at risk.

                That was why he fought. Along with everyone else around him. All at one man.

                Merasmus.

                For the RED team, it had almost become a yearly tradition, outside of racing BLU team in escorting Redmond Mann’s corpse to the top of Hightower. At the spookiest time of the year, the six-thousand-year-old wizard, Merasmus, would awaken and attempt to impose his will. It was RED team’s job to make sure that didn’t happen.

                But this year, however, was different. Because this had all happened after that fateful, snowy day.

                The day the machines invaded.

                Heavy looked around at the chaos around him. Through his fatigued vision, he could only make out a whirlwind of colors; both red and blue.

                That was right; some of the people around him, fighting with him, used to be his enemies. Now, however, they were his brothers. He still couldn’t believe it at times.

                Heavy shook his head. Now was not good time for thinking, Da? There was still a job to be done.

                The giant wizard Merasmus suddenly took flight, high above him. Holding a large book above his head, he began to chant:

“BOMBINOMICON, DESTROY THEM!”

                Heavy gritted his teeth.

“INCOMIIIIIIING!”

                He scrambled for cover as the book spat out hundreds of large bombs in all directions. Rushing inside the nearest building, he pinned himself against a wall as large explosions echoed outside.

“Yo, what’s up, big guy?”

                Heavy shot around. To his left, pinned underneath some fallen 2x4s, was the BLU Scout.

“Uhh…little help?”

                Heavy grunted, gently putting down Svetlana. As he got to work freeing Scout, he heard a familiar voice approach from behind:

“Ach, you dummkopf.”

                Getting on a knee by his side, helping Heavy with Scout’s predicament, was the BLU Medic. Together, they were able to get Scout free.

“Many thanks, Doctor.”

“Yeah, thanks, pallie,” Scout said, wincing slightly as he flexed his shoulder. Medic only grunted in acknowledgement as he got out his medical tools.

                As he watched Medic tend to his teammate’s wounds, the corners of Heavy’s mouth pulled into a slight, tired smile, before it faded quickly. As much as the same that this Medic felt, he still felt…different. From him.

                His doctor.

“KABLOOEY!”

                Demoman flipped the switch on his detonator, detonating the pile of stickybombs he had laid right in the middle of a crowd of skeletons. The resulting explosion was spectacular, sending bone fragments flying every which way.

“Ohh, they’re goin’ ta have to glue you back together…IN HELL!” He let out a raucous cackle before taking another swig from his good ol’ bottle of scrumpy.

                While the rest of this hastily combined team fought elsewhere, the BLU Demoman was among the ones assigned to hold down this sector against any attacks. Right now, it was a walk in the park; however, even his drunken mind knew that the worst was yet to come.

                He considered the field around him. That RED toymaker, as per usual, had set up camp on a nearby overpass, controlling his sentry by remote. He couldn’t quite see their Sniper, but the occasional red-colored tracer that sliced through any enemies in its path meant that he was probably still kickin’ somewhere.

                As for his last teammate…

                Looking up, Demoman could see the BLU Soldier slowly parachute down to his perch on top of a building. He gave him a crisp salute.

“Well, ain’t ya a pretty sight…”

“Likewise, soldier,” Soldier responded, returning the salute. He looked over the battlefield below them. “Situation report.”

“It be easyyy pickin’s so far,” Demoman said, slightly slurring his words. “How it be goin’ elsewhere?”

“We’re holding on,” Soldier responded. “I had to give Frenchie a little kicking to get back into the fight.”

“The back-pokin’ snake?” Demoman exclaimed with a bit of worry. Between the two of them, their secret nickname for their Spy had been “Ice Queen,” for how shockingly cool and composed he remained even in the toughest of situations. That, and his typical outfit, a thick parka that would make Heavy blush. From how much he had talked up his equivalent on the other team, Demoman had assumed that they were one and the same. But if he was at his breaking point…

                Soldier seemed to share his worry. But before they could think upon it further, they were both alerted to a soft rumbling in the distance. It was far away, but it didn’t seem like it would stay that way for long.

“Oh, aye got’a’ bad feelin’ about this…”

                Only one thing was going through Scout’s mind: I am a long freakin’ way from home.

                After the doc had finished tending to his wounds, he had gone elsewhere with Heavy. The psycho with the flamethrower was…somewhere. If he wasn’t dead already.

                Right now, Scout was the worst type of jittery: he was scared. Usually, he would down a can of Bonk! Atomic Punch right about now, but his supply had run out long ago.

                He huddled himself up as explosions and gunfire sounded off all around him. Sometimes he wished he could just start over. Back to raising hell in the streets of Boston. He missed home; and even more, he missed his brothers. His friends. The ones he had before he signed up for all this.

                Before he could wallow in his sorrows any more, though, he heard the sound of someone uncloaking next to him. Scout looked up, into that face hidden behind a balaclava. Eyes that were tired and wrinkled from age, but still determined.

                That was the eyes of his father.

                As much as they had hated each other’s guts over the years, Scout had felt that Spy was the only person that could truly understand how he felt. And that was even before the bombshell that they were actually related.

                At that moment, looking into his father’s eyes, Scout felt like he could almost read his mind. He was willing to put it all on the line. Now, was Scout willing to do the same?

                Scout looked at Spy’s solemn, outstretched hand for a second, before taking it with renewed vigor.

                The battle against Mersamus raged on through the endless night. To their credit, the five mercenaries were holding well against the wizard’s onslaught, much to his increasing irritation. But, slowly but surely, whether it was a slight nick from Merasmus’s staff or shrapnel from an errant explosion, their physical and mental fortitude was starting to wane.

                Heavy gasped, falling to a knee from the large ugly gash in his thigh. Medic was currently away, tending to his other teammates. Quickly pulling out a lunch box, he wolfed down the sandwich that was inside, waiting for his wounds to heal. He checked his ammunition; there wasn’t much left, and their ammo boxes were running thin. He glanced down at the pair of boxing gloves hanging from his belt.

By any means necessary.

                Picking up Svetlana one more time, he reared it towards the giant wizard. As he spun it up, however, at that instant he was launched into the air.

                Merasmus had taken the gravity around them.

                Svetlana flew out of his hands, just barely out of his reach. Now without his weapon, he looked in horror as Merasmus readied to plunge his staff straight through him.

                But before he could…

                *Whizz*

                *BANG*

                A bullet whizzed by close to Heavy’s ear, striking Merasmus. The wizard was temporarily stunned; his concentration broke, and Heavy hit the ground with a thud.

“Ooph!”

                Quickly getting up, he crawled his way towards Svetlana, holding it in a careful embrace.

“I’m sorry, my sweet thing,” he muttered. Never again shall I lose you.

                A cry of frustration from Merasmus alerted him that the wizard was almost ready to strike again. But before he could…

                *BANG*

                Another, seemingly laser guided bullet struck him in the head.

                Heavy’s eyes followed the distinct, red colored bullet trail. Could it be…?

                On top of a nearby tower, waving his hand in the air…

                Was Sniper.

                At that moment, an explosion materialized behind him, propelling a figure high into the air above Merasmus.

“SCREAMING EAGLES!!!”

                The BLU Soldier fired off a vicious barrage of rockets. Before he fell back down to earth, he clobbered the wizard upside the head with his shovel.

“INCOMIIIINNNGGGGGG!”

                Heavy looked behind him to see a railcart rolling down a hill towards him at high speed. A familiar figure in a hat and overalls ditched well before the point of impact, but the other person, brandishing a massive battle axe, remained inside.

                Heavy quickly leaped out of the way before he could get run over. The cart flew by him, Demoman laughing maniacally as he was hurtled into the fray. Gripping the wheel, he quickly steered the cart towards a set of concrete stairs. As soon as the cart impacted the stairs, Demoman was launched into the air, straight towards Merasmus.

“FREEEEEDOOOOOMMMMMM!”

                Winding up hard, he swung the axe vertically, striking home.

                Somewhere, someplace, a muffled boom accompanied with a faint “daaaayyyuuuummm!” could be heard.

                The Engineer quickly got back up to his feet, dusting off his overalls with a grumble.

Remind me never to sign up for one of Demo’s ideas ever again, he thought to himself.

                Picking up his toolbox, he redeployed his sentry next to a wall and worked on erecting another dispenser. Heavy, which he imagined was badly in need of ammunition, quickly repositioned himself nearby.

“Engineer, what are you doing here?” He heard a slightly accented voice inquire behind him. “Why are you not defending your sector?”

“Ah, Spy,” Engineer said, giving him a tip of his cowboy hat. “We had a few…problems, I’m afraid. Forced to move out.”

“And what kinds of problems were that, exactly?”

“Yeah, uh…” Engineer trailed off. “I ain’t too sure myself, which was part of the reason why we came here to you…”

30 minutes earlier

“WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL ARE THESE THINGS!??” Screamed Sniper, firing his SMG.

“I-I’m…I don’t know, partner!” Shouted Engineer beside him, desperately trying to fend off their attackers with his shotgun.

                Everything had gone smoothly at first. Skeletons were no problem for the Engineer; the hordes were like an even dumber version of the machines. They couldn’t shoot back, nor could they sneak up behind you, for one. It was nothing that a single Level 3 sentry could handle.

                Perhaps things had gone a little too smoothly.

                Engineer grunted as one of attacking creatures leapt high and onto the overpass they were firing from. Before he could swing his gun over and fire, it was already on top of him. His shotgun was knocked out of his hand.

“ACK!” Engineer cried out. His vision turned blurry; Once they focused, though, what he saw made his blood run cold.

                He was looking at certain death.

                But before the creature could strike, it suddenly reared back, howling in pain.

“I got’cha, mate!” He could hear Sniper shout from somewhere behind it. Engineer wasted no time, scrambling out of the creature’s hold. Quickly grabbing his shotgun, he chambered a round as the beast threw Sniper off of its back, leaving his bowie knife embedded in it.

                Taking a knee, he took aim as the beast prepared to charge again. Wait until the very last moment.

                With a great roar, the creature charged right at him, claws and teeth poised to rip him apart if they got close.

Not yet….

Not yet….

Now.

                Engineer pulled the trigger, his shotgun letting out a thunderous boom at the advancing creature. At point-blank range, the effect was lethal. It was stopped dead in its tracks, and it slumped over, visible smoke emanating from its head wound.

                Taking a deep exhale, Engineer looked over his kill. It was something completely out of his imagination. It was a large, hulking wolf-like creature, jet-black in color except for white, bone-like appendages poking out of its back and claws. Its skull was also white with red markings. At least, it had been before it had gotten a decent chunk of it blown away.

                On the other side, he could see Sniper slowly getting up.

“You all right, partner?”

“Been through worse,” Sniper grumbled, yanking out his knife from the creature’s back. “Bloody hell, and I thought Australian wildlife was optimized to kill ya…”

                Engineer nodded, looking at the corpse of the creature one more time. Before long, it completely dissipated into black smoke. It was like nothing was there in the first place.

                Engineer heard more unholy screams and noises in the distance. Another wave of these infernal beings was coming.

“We can’t hold ‘em off for much longer, mate,” Sniper said, pulling out his sniper rifle. “The rest are still dealin’ with that mad wizard; what do’we do?”

                Engineer looked up in the air, where Soldier was having an aerial battle with some more of these beasts, ones with wings. Below him, he could hear Demoman screaming all kinds of drunken obscenities as he swung his axe wildly. Sniper was right; the four of them couldn’t hold against whatever these hellspawns were. But with the rest of them still occupied against Merasmus, they were stuck. Unless…

                In that moment, Engineer made a fateful decision.

                Engineer looked at the various reactions from his teammates. Heavy and Pyro looked more confused, if anything. But others, like Spy and Scout, their eyes were wide in terror.

“It be *hic* true ya know,” added Demoman. “Bloody terrible beasts, the whole lot…*burp*”

                Spy put a hand to his head. Now the situation was twice as bad. With how stretched thin they were, they couldn’t possibly deal with both of their problems at the same time.

                Individually, however…

“Ok, we’re all together now,” Spy said after composing himself. “If what Engineer says is true, we still have some time. So, we are all going to focus everything we have on that wizard-man before those creatures kill us all. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir!” Soldier sounded off. Following his lead, the rest slowly nodded in agreement.

“Good. Let us move.”

Chapter Text

“Weiss, are you sure we’re not lost?”

“Ugh, just…just be quiet Ruby,” Weiss said. Between Ruby’s constant nagging and everything else that had gone wrong so far, Weiss could feel a migraine coming on. Just how could this happen to her? She was the heiress of the Schnee Dust Company!

                From her very first day at Beacon, everything had gone wrong. All because of her, a little child who had gotten in here from pure luck!

               And now, through whatever horrible twist of fate, that same little red-caped crusader was going to be her partner. Not just for the foreseeable future, for the next four years.

Someone please wake me up from this nightmare… Weiss thought.

                Also, as much as she hated to admit, they were indeed lost. But she definitely wasn’t going to say that out loud to Ruby. Nope, not for a long time coming.

…

Just a few minutes later…

“…why can’t you just admit that you have no idea where we’re going?” Ruby asked, hopping up from the seat she had taken on the ground.

“Because I know EXACTLY where we’re going!” Weiss retorted. “We’re going…to…the forest temple!”

               Ruby only groaned in disgust.

“Oh, stop it! You don’t know where we are either!”

“Well, at least I’m not pretending like I know everything!”

“What is that supposed to mean!?”

                The bickering continued for a bit. Eventually, Weiss was the first to break, just throwing her hands up and stomping away.

“I can’t believe this! I can’t believe I’m here! I can’t believe I’m…talking to you!”

                Her foot caught on something in the underbrush. Gritting her teeth, she blindly kicked her foot out at it.

“THIS STUPID FOREST!”

                Weiss desperately needed an Aspirin. As soon as she got out of this place, she was going straight to the nearest pharmacy in town.

                After taking a second to compose herself, Weiss just sighed.

“…whatever. Let’s just keep going.”

                Silence.

                What? Weiss turned around. For once, the little runt was quiet – and yet, her first reaction was that something was wrong! Ugh, her horrible influence is already rubbing off on me-

                Her train of thought stopped upon seeing Ruby’s expression. She was deathly pale, face pulled into one of fear.

                Weiss cocked her head.

“What’s wrong now? Suddenly getting cold feet?” Weiss said with a rather smug undertone.

                Ruby’s expression didn’t change. She slowly pointed at Weiss’s feet:

“A-a…a-a…h-hea-“

“What? Speak up-“ Weiss said as she glanced down. She froze.

                Peeking out of the bushes, right by her foot…

                …was a head.

“…I’m not sure this is it,” a female voice echoed through the walls of the cave.

Her companion sighed.

“Pyrrha, I made the torch. Could you at least humor me for maybe, five more feet?”

                Exactly five feet later, Jaune tripped, falling facefirst into the dirt. The torch flew out of his hand and landed in a nearby puddle, extinguishing it instantly.

                They were both left in complete darkness.

“…ow…” she heard Jaune groan as he got back up. Pyrrha muted a sigh before her senses were alerted to something.

“Do you…feel that?”

“Soul crushing regret?” Jaune lamented.

“No, its…warm.”

                After a bit of hasty navigation (it was more guesswork than anything), they came upon an object, glowing a bright, amber yellow.

“That’s the relic!” Jaune said with excitement. As he went to grab it, however, it seemingly avoided his grasp.

“Hey! Bad…relic!”

                As Jaune began to struggle with grabbing the object, Pyrrha’s concern started to grow. Not at Jaune’s apparent failure to grab this thing, but rather what it was attached to.

“…Jaune?”

“…Chess pieces?” Blake asked, looking at a Black King.

“Some of them are missing,” Yang noted behind her, looking at an empty pedestal. “Looks like we weren’t the first ones here.”

“Well…I guess we should pick one,” Blake said.

“Thinking of anything in particular?” Yang asked, musing over a White Queen.

“…not really.”

“Hm…” Yang muttered, mulling over some more pieces before deciding. “If that’s the case, how about a cute little pony?” she said, holding up a White Knight.

“Sure,” Blake said, with a slight smile on her face. Yang beamed.

“That wasn’t too hard!”

“Well, it’s not like this place is very difficult to find…” Blake said before trailing off.

Almost in unison, they looked over at the strange and (very) drunken man who they had seen all the way from the cliff above. Since then, he had stopped his lumbering and raving, now leaning quite uncomfortably against a pedestal. Judging by his loud snores, he was fast asleep…somehow.

“…what should we do with him?”

“I don’t…know,” Blake said, slowly approaching the man. She scrunched her nose; she had already started to smell the alcohol from up there. Down here, it was borderline suffocating.

“You think he’s one of ours?” Yang asked, keeping her distance. The smell must have hit her, too.

“I don’t think so…too old.”

“Is he a huntsman, maybe?” Yang suggested next. “Pretty fancy outfit he’s got on there.”

                “Fancy” wasn’t really how Blake would put it. But, it was pretty sophisticated nonetheless. She picked up his hat that had fallen nearby; it was an old-timey, blue military-style bonnet with a white feather plume attached to the side. The man himself was covered head to toe in armor, consisting of a vest and leg protectors all strapped with what Blake could only assume were grenades. There was an emblem on his sleeves, resembling a spiky ball. A faded, brownish-colored cape hung loosely over his shoulders, with a golden badge pinned on the right shoulder that seemed oddly familiar. What was the name of that old childhood game she used to play with? “Something” says? It reminded her of that.

“He does certainly look like one,” Blake commented.

“Still, I think we should help him, whoever he is,” Yang said. “It’s pretty dangerous to be out here alone like this…”

                Blake agreed. What kind of self-appreciating person would willingly wander into the Emerald Forest blackout drunk?

                Together, Yang and Blake tried to lift the man up by his arms. Either he was just physically kind of heavy, or Blake was right in assuming that the armor he got on was.

As she tried to sling one arm over her shoulders, a loud, high-pitched scream echoed throughout the forest. Reeling from the sudden sensory overload, Blake accidentally dropped the man, leaving him to faceplant on the ground.

“Oh, no,” Yang grunted before turning to the direction the sound came from. “Sounds like some girl’s in trouble! Blake, did you hear that?”

Quite so, Blake grumbled to herself, discreetly adjusting the bow on top of her head. She glanced down at the man, still as a stone. He wasn’t snoring anymore.

                Uh oh.

                Blake kneeled down, stretching out an uneasy hand towards the man’s head. Before she could get any closer, however…he suddenly shot awake. The back of his head hit Blake right in the face, sending her reeling backwards.

“Blake!” Yang exclaimed, before the lumbering, bumbling figure of the man blocked her sight. He was just as physically imposing as he was dressed, standing slightly taller than Yang and quite a bit taller than Blake.

“Oi, you there, lass…*hic* have ye perhaps seen me bottle o’ scrumpy?” The man mumbled, pointing at Yang. From the hungover slurring, and his very strong accent, Yang could barely even make out a single word of what he was saying.

                The man suddenly lurched forward, slapping a hand on Yang’s shoulder. He leaned in close to her face, as if he was terribly nearsighted. Well, maybe he was. Yang now realized that he was wearing an eyepatch.

“I said…hav’ ya seen me bottl’ o’ scrumpy!” The man bellowed, louder this time.

Oh my Gods, his breath was rancid.

“Wha- um- I…don’t know…?” Yang stammered. “…what even is a ‘scrumpy’ exactly?”

“It’s a cider made from apples,” she could hear Blake’s voice somewhere behind the man. Soon, a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders, trying to pull him away. “Traditionally made in the country.”

                After a bit of struggling, Yang and Blake were able to get the man to at least sit down so he could recuperate. Blake’s ears twitched; she heard some rustling in the woods. Instinctively, she drew Gambol Shroud.

“You hear something?” Yang asked, reading her fists in response.

“Yep,” Blake responded. The rustling was getting closer; in fact, the swaying trees and scattering leaves meant that it was almost on top of them.

                Weiss and Ruby stared in bewilderment at the unconscious man they had dragged out of the bush.

“…he’s not dead, right?” Ruby said rather meekly.

“Of course he isn’t, you idiot,” Weiss hissed, gesturing towards his abdomen, which was visibly rising up and down.

                Safe to say, Weiss had gotten quite a scare from accidentally kicking what she thought was a whole severed head. She did calm down a bit after discovering that it was, indeed, still attached to a body. The scream she had let out, however, was still quite…um, embarrassing. Maybe even more embarrassing if Ruby had heard it, but luckily she was too busy fainting to notice.

                After she had woken Ruby up with a slap (which had been very cathartic, might she add), Weiss looked the man over. He was dressed quite elaborately, even if his outfit looked like it had seen better days. Kneeling down, she gently picked up one of his arms by the collar. Quality smoking jacket; the velvet was silky smooth. Combined with the beret he had on, he wouldn’t look too out of place in the high society of Atlas.

“He’s not from Beacon, isn’t he?” Ruby said, leaning in behind her.

                That was certain. Weiss would’ve noticed if she had seen someone dress this extravagantly at school, student or teacher. Was he from Atlas, perhaps? But then again, Weiss would think that she would at least be familiar with a name and a face if he was. There was no way someone that dressed like this wouldn’t be even a distant associate of the Schnees. Unless he was some sort of poser, which was always possible.

                Speaking of faces…

                The man had a balaclava on, which, apart from his mouth and eyes, covered his entire face. This struck Weiss as rather odd; to be frank, he looked ridiculous with it on. Grabbing a loose edge, Weiss began to pull the mask off.

                The mask hadn’t even gotten to the man’s chin when his eyes shot open.

                Everything happened in a flash, far too quick for Weiss to comprehend. She was suddenly spun around, a gloved hand covering her mouth. Shock soon turned into terror as she felt the sharp, serrated edge of a blade on her neck.

“Weiss!” She heard Ruby exclaim. She could see Ruby deploy her weapon, getting into a combat stance.

“Did you really think it would be that easy?” Weiss heard a voice behind her, in an accent she couldn’t quite place. “You are an amateur and a fool!”

Chapter Text

“Let her go!” Ruby said, quickly switching her weapon into rifle mode. “That’s my…that’s my partner!”

“I am not your partner!” was what Weiss wanted to say, but anything she tried to say came out as unintelligible muffles behind the man’s hand.

                While the mere sight of Ruby’s rifle was intimidating (even before seeing what it does firsthand to a Grimm), the man seemed completely undisturbed. In fact, Weiss heard him sigh, maybe even with a slight chuckle.

“If you knew any better you would lay down your weapon and walk away,” he said. “But if you insist on providing an audience…” He suddenly jerked Weiss up closer, digging his knife even closer into the skin of her neck. Out of the corner of her eye, Weiss could see him staring back down at her.

“As for you, fraulein,” he said with a mocking tone, now slightly similar to an Atlesian accent. “Promise not to bleed on my suit, and I’ll kill you quickly.”

                Weiss’s blood ran cold. There was a certain fire to the man’s eyes. One of chronic and sustained cruelty. One of a composed yet psychopathic killer.

“No, wait!” Ruby shouted, slightly lowering her weapon. Weiss could see the gears in her head start to turn in real time. “We don’t want to hurt you! We were just trying to help!” She tried switching to negotiation.

                The man scoffed.

“I find that very hard to believe.”

“Well, it’s true! We were just trying to get to the forest temple, and then we, kinda, just found you in that bush back there…”

“…a bush?” The man now asked quizzically. Weiss could see his eyes start to dart around, now fully taking in the environment around them. She took this opportunity to throw an elbow into his stomach. Feeling his grip around her mouth break, Weiss scrambled away. Now at a safe distance, she drew Myrtenaster as the man slowly got up, coughing.

“What should we do, Weiss?” Ruby whispered nervously to her.

“Now’s not the time to think, Ruby.” Weiss readied her blade; Grimm or not, there was a threat in front of her, and it had to be dealt with. Taking a deep breath, she dashed forward, the tip of her blade poised to pierce his heart.

“WAIT!!!”

                At least, that was what Weiss was going to do before she felt a hard tug on her cloak, stopping her.

“Ugh, RUBY!” she exploded, whirling around. “HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU NOT TO DO THAT-“

                She felt a different, gloved hand on her shoulder. She tried to whip Myrtenaster around for another strike before realizing that the man’s other hand was gripping its handle, stopping her from moving it.

“Forgive your partner, fraulein,” he said, his tone no longer menacing, but surprisingly cordial. “And please, forgive me.”

                With a huff, Weiss shrugged off his hand, backing away from him. He bowed slightly.

“It appears we got off on the wrong foot. I sincerely apologize.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Weiss scoffed. “Also, stop calling me that. Frau-leen? What does that even mean?”

                Even though his mask was still on, Weiss could swear she saw an eyebrow raise behind it.

“Are you not German?” He inquired.

“What’s a ‘German?’”

The man muffled a cough.

“Oh, pardon me.” He tried again:

“Do you not hail from the country that many people know as ‘Germany?’”

“That’s a country?” Weiss said. “That’s news to me.”

                The man’s eyes narrowed as she searched Weiss’s expression. As soon has he determined that she was, indeed, telling the truth, all the color drained from his face.

“Mon Dieu.”

Bounding through the tree line, an Ursa let out a loud roar, rearing back on its hind legs. But before it could even get close to Blake and Yang, a sudden bolt of purple electricity zapped out from its back.

“YEEEEEEEE-HAAAWWWWWWW!”

                The gigantic beast keeled over, revealing a short, orange-haired girl in a pink skirt riding on top of it. She leaped into the air, did a flip, and landed gracefully on the ground.

“Awww…it’s broken…”

                Blake and Yang stared, mouths agape.

“…did that girl just ride in on an Ursa?”

“I…um…” Yang trailed off.

                With a groan, a long-haired boy with a green jacket peeked out from behind an arm.

“Nora,” he said with a pant. “Please…don’t ever do that again-“

                He was suddenly cut off as a very large hand struck him from the side, sending him flying.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! VERY GOOD!” Another voice thundered, this one sounding significantly older and much more masculine.

                Soon, a towering hulk of a man revealed himself from behind the Ursa’s body. Blake thought the other guy was tall; this guy was massive. He had at least a foot on her in terms of height, wearing a high-collared black jacket with red armbands, with a bandolier of some very large bullets slung over one shoulder. His head – comically small in relation to his shoulders – was covered with a steel helmet with a flipped-up visor.

“Wow, he’s…”

“Tall.” Blake finished Yang’s sentence. “And big.”

“Yeah.”

                She saw a pink-colored whirl zip by her. The girl, which Blake assumed was called Nora, had found the chess pieces. She soon picked up a White Rook.

“I’m queen of the castle, I’m queen of the castle~” she began to sing, busting into a dance number. Zipping back past Blake and Yang, she began to wave it at the large man. “Hey look, Heavy! I’m the queen of the castle!”

“Yes!” The man said, a wide grin on his face. With a single hand, he picked up the girl and sat her on his shoulder, as if she weighed nothing.

“Ugh, Nora…” the green-jacketed boy said, rubbing his head. Patting down his jacket, he approached Blake and Yang.

“Sorry about that. She’s kinda…excitable.”

“No kidding,” Blake responded. The boy stuck out a hand.

“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Ren; nice to meet you.”

                While the three exchanged introductions, Blake couldn’t keep her eyes off of the man. More specifically, the emblem on his armbands. Although it depicted a simple anchor, its overall style looked pretty similar to the spiky ball on the man they had found…

“Oh, right, those two,” Ren said, taking notice. “She’s Nora; we’ve been friends since we were kids.”

“Yep!” Nora said, still on top of the man’s shoulder. “We’re besties!”

                Ren nodded, a slight smile on his face.

“And for him…”

“I am Heavy Weapons Guy,” The man butted in, sticking out a hand.

“Call him Heavy!” Nora quickly added.

                Quite some name… Blake thought to herself, shaking the man’s hand. Actually, a finger; that was all that her hand could wrap around. She watched as he shook ‘fingers’ with Yang, taking a closer look at his emblem.

Different color outfit, but they’re definitely related, somehow…

“Yeah,” she heard Ren suddenly say behind her. She jumped; Ren quickly ducked his head in apology. “From what we can tell, he’s not from around here. But he did help us with that pack of Ursas back there, so…”

They had taken on a PACK of Ursas!??

“Say, uhm, Heavy!” Blake heard Yang call, waving a bit to get his attention. “There’s a drunk guy we found back there that we’re trying to help, think you can give us a hand?”

“Hm?” Heavy mused, looking back over to the temple. As soon as he saw the sleeping man, his eyes went wide.

“Ah!” he exclaimed, suddenly dropping Nora and rushing over.

“Woaaahhhh!” Nora exclaimed, now realizing she was falling. Before she could hit the ground though, Ren slid over and caught her princess-style.

“Aww, thanks Ren…” she cuddled her head into his chest.

“No…problem,” Ren said, his face turning slightly red.

                Snickering quietly, Blake looked back at Heavy. He had picked up the man and was violently thrashing him around, despite’s Yang’s best efforts to stop him. The man, at this point, was awake and looking like he was about to puke.

“Oh, мой Бог! Heavy was worried! Worried ‘sick,’ yes! How could this happen…”

“I…agh…Heavy!” Yang groaned, tugging at one of his arms with all her might. “Stop it! You might hurt him-“

                Heavy suddenly dropped the man. Whirling around, he bent over close so his face was at the same height as Yang’s.

“Where is team?”

“w-what?” Yang stammered, a bit flustered. “’Team?’”

“Yes!” Heavy insisted. “Where is Heavy’s team?!!”

“…I don’t know what you’re talking about? I mean, the whole point of us being here is to create teams!!?”

                As Yang desperately tried to keep up with the sudden barrage of questions, Blake checked on the man.

“Um, are you ok…?”

                The man groaned.

“Ahh, I feel like there’s a million fire ants crawlin’ through me brain…”

                Blake quickly leapt out of the way as he promptly threw up the contents of his stomach. She turned around with a grimace.

Ugh. That certainly just painted one heck of a picture…

                With a burp, the man finished puking. His one eye blinking, he looked Blake over with a fluttering gaze.

“…ooh, what’s your name, gorgeous…” he muttered.

                Ew. Blake decided to forget she had even heard that. She pointed a thumb at Heavy behind her.

“I think we found a friend of yours.”

                The man’s eye squinted as he looked in that direction. Upon seeing Heavy, his eye similarly went wide.

“Ach, YOU!”

                Heavy immediately stopped accosting Yang and ran over, embracing the man in a suffocating hug.

“DEMOMAN!”

“Aw, it’s good to see ya, friend…”

                Carefully maneuvering around the pile of vomit, Blake made her way back towards the others.

“It’s…beautiful…” Nora whimpered, wiping a tear from her eye.

“Well, at least they’re back together now,” Yang commented. Blake and Ren nodded.

“There is still the question of where they’re exactly from, though,” Blake pointed out.

“Yup,” Ren agreed. “On the way here, he kept talking about places like ‘Dustbowl,’ ‘Hightower,’ and ‘Mannhattan’…ring any bells?”

“Nope.” 

“Nah.”

“Hmm…you know what, should we just ask them? You know, directly from the mouth of the beas-”

“Yoo-hoo!” Nora suddenly exclaimed, getting all of their attention. “So, um, we’re still not sure about one thing, and, its like, um, where are you guys from exactly?”

                The man called Demoman, now fully awake and functional, put a hand to his head.

“A good question, lass,” he said, groaning as the final vestiges of his hangover dissipated. “Last thing I remember was fallin’ down a bottomless pit…heh, aye finally thought aye was goin’ to ‘ell…”

“Heavy remembers same thing,” the big man added.

                That just made things even more confusing. A portal to Hell? Blake shuddered at the thought.

                Yang scratched her head.

“Maybe…a story time’s in order?” she suggested.

                Everyone nodded in agreement. It seemed like it was the only way they would get to the bottom of this mystery.

“Well, if that’s the case, then,” Demoman said, gesturing towards the group to come closer. “Gather ‘round, laddies, for I have one ‘eck of a tale for ye…”

Sometime after the end of Chapter 1…

                Demoman carefully lit the fuse on the back of his grenade launcher, counting the seconds by in his head. Just before the fuse burned out completely, he pulled the trigger, launching a giant cannonball towards the charging beast. Hurtling through the air, the cannonball brutally crushed a limb before exploding, vaporizing the creature into thick, black smoke.

“That’s how ya do it!” he heard Sniper beside him, looking down the scope of his rifle. Carefully lining up his shot, he fired, the hypersonic bullet slicing through four of them at once.

“How much longer, Engie??!!” Demoman shouted at Engineer above him.

“Just a few minutes more, partner!” Engineer shouted back, swinging his wrench at his sentry gun.

                The team had done a significant chunk of damage against Merasmus. From what Spy predicted, one more good, combined attack similar to the previous three could defeat the wizard for good. However, they couldn’t keep up the sustained fire forever. So, every few minutes, in order to buy as much time as possible, a few of the mercenaries would rotate out and try to hold up the advancing horde for a bit before falling back.

                Demoman grunted as he narrowly dodged a leaping attack from one of them. Stowing his launcher, he quickly pulled out his Skullcutter as the creature prepared to attack again. With a loud roar, he brazenly countered with an attack of his own. Holding his axe high above his head, he bisected the creature lengthwise, the halves flying by his sides before dissipating.

                If he had counted right, their time was almost up. He started to work his way closer to Sniper, who was now dual wielding his SMG and kukri. Glancing at each other for just a second, they shared a nod. They knew what to do; they just needed the order.

                Finally, Demoman heard a voice above them:

“NOW’S THE TIME, BOYS!”

                The two sprung to action. Sniper wrapped an arm around Demoman as he lit the fuse on this grenade launcher again. This time, he didn’t wait until the last moment to fire. Instead, he held the fuse all the way, pointing the cannon at their feet.

                The resulting explosion launched them up and onto the 2^nd floor of the building where Engineer was. Expertly guiding them through the air, Demoman made sure they landed feet first on the teleporter that had been laid down.

                In an instant, they had left the fight, and straight into another one.

                Now back with the others, the two quickly stepped down from the teleporter. Just a few seconds after, Engineer came through the portal, holding his wrench high up in the air. Leaping down, he redeployed his sentry.

“We’re ready!” He called into his radio.

“Stay behind me, Doctor!” Heavy shouted, firing his minigun.

“I am fully charged!” he heard Medic respond. He glanced over to Spy, who was listening to communications over his tape recorder. He nodded, giving him the cue.

This was it. Their last Ura. Heavy charged out into the open, daring to stare down Merasmus.

“NOW, DOCTOR!”

                Demoman soon heard the familiar maniacal laughter of Heavy under the effects of an Ubercharge. As he saw him slowly advance towards Merasmus, glowing brilliant shades of red and blue, Demoman charged in with a cry of his own:

“LEEEEEET’S DO IIIIIT!!!!!”

                In complete sync, Demoman, Sniper, and Engineer launched attacks of their own, supporting their teammates on the other side. The wizard was quickly overwhelmed, how finding himself surrounded.

                This was it! The final push! Just a little more and they could-

                Wha?

                Something was wrong. Demoman looked down at his body, still stuck in its fighting position, but unmoving. He couldn’t move his head, either. Through his limited field of vision, he could see the rest of his teammates stuck in a similar way. Although he could still move and think, it was as if his body was frozen in time.

                Which only meant one thing.

“ENOUGH!”

                Merasmus’s voice bellowed through the area. Demoman could feel his teeth rattle.

“YOU HAVE INCONVENIENCED MERASMUS FOR TOO LONG!”

                Demoman started to feel lightheaded as they started to float. However, this was different. They still couldn’t move. Waving his staff, Merasmus pulled all nine mercenaries towards him. A massive book materialized beside him, one different from the bombinomicon.

“NOW, COWER IN FEAR AT MY FULL POWER!” bellowed Merasmus, looking over the flipping pages. He began to chant:

“EMERGIS, MERASMUS! BASBUS BRONTU!”

                A large portal opened above him. With an evil cackle, Merasmus waved his staff again. Suddenly, Demoman found himself hurtling through the portal, along with everyone else. Through it all he could see their expressions: eyes wide, mouth agape in horror.

                That was the last thing he saw before darkness enveloped them all.

Chapter Text

*FREEZE FRAME*

Yep, that’s me, Jaune Arc.

You’re probably wondering how I got myself into this situation.

Well, it all started a couple minutes ago in that cave when I decided to grab that big, glowing thing…

...

...

“THIS ISN’T THE RELICCC!!!! GOD, PYRRHA, DO SOMETHINGGGG!!!” Jaune cried out.

                What Jaune had grabbed back in the cave was, indeed, not the relic. It was instead the stinger of a Death Stalker. One that they had inadvertently woken from its sleep.

                Pyrrha gripped Miló in her hands as she tried to make sense of the situation. Jaune was still holding on to the stinger, somehow, even if he was being swung through the air like a ragdoll. Pyrrha looked at the tail of the massive creature. If she could just find the perfect moment, maybe she could just…

“Whatever you do, Jaune!” Pyrrha shouted. “Don’t let-“

                She couldn’t even finish her sentence before Jaune got thrown high into the air, far away, until he was nothing but a speck on the horizon.

“…go.”

                She turned back to the Death Stalker, now solely focused on her and very angry. Before it could even think about attacking, Pyrrha turned heel and promptly ran away as fast as she could.

...

...

…and that’s pretty much it.

                Jaune was left flying through the air, left to…contemplate life, he guessed. Although the eventual impact wouldn’t kill him, it certainly might kill his sprit. So, as he lawn darted straight into the ground, he was completely stone-faced.

“…ow,” was all that he could muster after all that. Gods, what was he even doing here? He had hoped that forging his transcript would finally give him the chance to chase his dreams, but right now, it felt like they were all getting shattered one-by-one in real time. And even worse, with his Semblance now just unlocked, he looked like a complete pushover to everyone.

                With a heavy sigh, he stretched out his arms. What now-

“W-o-hoh, easy there, partner.”

                All of Jaune’s braincells fired at once in the presence of the unfamiliar voice. Quickly getting up, he looked down at the rather sizable crater he had made. In the center, much to his horror, was another person.

                Despite being hit by a human-sized projectile at terminal velocity, the man didn’t look nearly as hurt as Jaune expected him to be. Slowly pulling himself up, he dusted off his overalls before putting his hat back on.

“oh-oh my God!” Jaune stammered. “I’m so, SO sorry-“

“Heh, no worries,” the man replied, climbing out of the crater. His voice had a slightly weird, country-like drawl to it. That, and his strange outfit. Jaune had the feeling this person wasn’t from Beacon.

“You lost here too, son?”

                Jaune looked around, considering the strange man’s question.

…Maybe? In both a literal and figurative sense?

“Kinda…well, we did all come here for a specific reason, but it’s not like the instructions were very specific…”

                The man put a hand to his chin in thought, mouthing the word we to himself. Whatever he was thinking, he didn’t pursue it any further.

“Well, regardless, you look a bit dusted up,” he remarked. Jaune looked down at his clothes; indeed, it was covered in mud and dirt. “I got a camp set up not too far from here – why don’t’cha take a breather?”

                Despite his parents’ warnings about stranger danger, Jaune was tempted by the offer. He really did need a break.

“Um…sure. Thanks…sir.”

                Spy was feeling a very strange fog in his brain. The last thing he remembered before waking up was that he was falling. Where, he didn’t know. But he knew he had been falling for a long time before he was rather rudely awakened by an attempt at his identity. He glanced around at the lush trees and fauna around him. Whatever this place was, regardless…it was a long way from home.

                After clearing up the misunderstanding with the two young women, Spy now found himself accompanying them on whatever kind of goose chase they were on. Find the “temple,” containing rare “relics.” Along the way, overcome trials and tribulations, including unholy monsters called “Grimm.” The same ones he had fought before Merasmus had sent him here, mind you.

How cliché, Spy scoffed to himself.

                From what he had deduced so far, some aspects of this world were as similar to his own as others were wildly different. For one, he determined, this “Atlas” the girl called Weiss hailed from seemed to be a rough equivalent to Germany. Perhaps, with a bit of searching, he could find his own home country here as well.

                As for the other girl…

“Whooa! Oh, it has a ROSE ON IT! That’s so cool! Can I touch it? Can I? Please!?”

                This other girl called Ruby couldn’t be that much older than fifteen, and her behavior certainly matched the part. For the past half hour, she had taken a particular obsession with his knife, all because it had roses engraved on it, just like her last name.

                Spy glanced down at Ruby, who was staring wide-eyed at his knife like a cat. He hadn’t even noticed that he had taken it out and was flipping it around absentmindedly. A slight smirk pulled across his face.

Ah, why not? Let’s entertain L’Enfant for a little bit. If it gets her to stop pestering him for even a minute…

“Oh my God oh my God oh my God!! Oh, how did you flip it out again? Maybe like…this! Ow!”

                She failed at flipping out the blade, nicking her finger a bit on an edge. Spy couldn’t help but strongly exhale through his nose before taking the blade gently from her.

“All the tools, techniques and technology in the world are nothing without the head, heart and hands to use them,” he said, dramatically flipping the knife shut. To add some extra spice, he flipped it out the way it was meant to before handing it back to Ruby.

                There were literal stars shining in the girl’s eyes as she held the knife in her hand. She squealed in excitement. Feeling satisfied, Spy left her to it.

                There really was no way around it; he had changed, for the better or worse. Willingly handing weapon to a stranger for trivial matters such as these, especially to one as young as Miss Rose? The Spy of years ago would be rolling in his grave. Oh well. As that Texan said, the times are’a changin’.

                He now looked at Miss Schnee in front of him, with her long snow-white hair and elegant dress; all prim and proper. In that regard, Spy felt like the not-quite-German girl reminded him very much of himself in his younger days. Prideful and brash. Never willing to take "never" for an answer. No need for training, as he was already perfect.

                Perhaps that was why she stubbornly refused to admit that they were lost. Spy noted they had passed that particular tree for the fifth time now. He wasn’t growing bored quite yet, but he did wish something… more exciting would present itself sooner rather than later.

                Eventually, some rustling in the trees nearby fulfilled his desire.

                Perhaps too much.

“Wow!” Nora exclaimed, at the conclusion of Demoman’s (and Heavy’s) epic tale. “…I’m so confused!”

                You aren’t the only one, Blake thought to herself. Safe to say, everything that was said had blown all of their collective minds. Explosives? Magic? Teleportation? Invulnerability? Through it all, however, there was still one worrying commonality between their world and Remnant:

                Grimm.

                If all of this was true, and they had somehow managed to invade another world other than Remnant…

                This was much bigger than all of them. Professor Ozpin needed to know.

                But first…well, they needed to get out of here in order to do that.

“Well, anyways,” Yang said after a long pause. “We both got our pieces, right?” she held up the Knight. Nora nodded enthusiastically, still clutching her Rook piece. “That was our main objective, now it’s done.”

“Next part is to just get out of here,” Ren noted.

“Yes,” Heavy agreed. “Does anyone have map?”

“No offense, mate, but aye wager you’d be hard pressed to find one ‘round ‘ere.”

“Hmm…” Nora muttered, clearly deep in thought. “How about we just choose a direction and start walking? We’ll find the exit eventually, right?”

If only if it was that easy… Blake said to herself. Because she had a nagging feeling it wouldn’t be.

                Her hidden ears twitched again. That distant rumbling she had caught onto a little while back was heading their way.

                Yep. This was definitely going to be easier said than done.

Chapter Text

                Jaune wished he was having fun right now as he ran through the forest. But, when the consequence of stopping was certain death, it was kinda hard to find any sort of positive emotions. Unless you were into that sort of thing, which Jaune was certainly not.

                As it turned out, the strange man had meant every word. Just a little bit away from the new natural feature he had made in the ground, Jaune found himself in a rather hastily set up camp. But the mere presence of the camp wasn’t what had caught Jaune’s attention. Rather, it was the various devices the strange man had set up.

“You made this all yourself!?” Jaune exclaimed incredulously.

“That I did,” the man chuckled. “Ain’t nothin’ but a walk in the park.”

                With a long, satisfied exhale, the man took another swig from his bottle of beer. He was relaxing on some sort of mechanized lounge chair, one that had unfolded out of an impossibly small toolbox given its relative size. A small robot quietly puffed nearby as it gathered water from an adjacent stream.

                Jaune sat silently on a crafted wooden chair, taking a bite from the chocolate bar in his hand. It certainly wasn’t a particularly filling meal, but he wasn’t complaining.

“…want some?” he heard the man ask him. He looked over at the bottle of beer he was being offered.

“Sorry…uhm, sir. I’m 17…”

“Ack, dagnabit,” the man cursed, quickly retracting the bottle and instead clocking himself in the head with it. “Sorry, son. It’s just that in all my years I haven’t come across someone quite as young as you in my line of work.”

                Jaune gave him a slight nod in acknowledgement. The man looked middle-aged, and stood at a rather diminutive height compared to him. He looked like he could’ve stepped straight out of one of those old Western movies set in Vacuo, cowboy hat and all. On the other hand, though, Jaune didn’t know that many old country people who was this good with machines…

“Also, if you don’t mind, don’t call me sir. Just Dell’ll do.”

“Sure…mister Dell,” Jaune obliged. He couldn’t help but add in the mister in there; it still felt weird talking causally to a much older man like this. His eye caught the robot again, which came over a dropped a bucket of water in front of Dell. He gave it a little pat.

“Good boy.”

“So…this is all easy to you?” Jaune asked, trying to start some small talk. It couldn’t hurt. “I can’t even imagine trying to learn this much stuff about machines…”

“Well, son,” Dell replied, “A lot of it does come from one simple thing, experience.” He nodded towards the sword on Jaune’s belt. “That ain’t a half bad contraption you’ve got yourself, there.”

                Jaune looked down at his weapon, Crocea Mors. It had been in his family for generations, dating all the way back to the Great War. Although it looked like a rather simple sword, the sheath could unfold into a shield.

                Before he could ponder any farther, though…

                A red streak had shot through the woods and crashed straight into Jaune. After he had snapped out of his daze, he had quite a shock from discovering that the streak was none other than Pyrrha.

                And judging from what he had inadvertently left her to deal with, alone, back at the cave…

                Jaune desperately tried his best to keep up with Pyrrha. Close behind him, he could hear Dell utter all sorts of curses as he fired his shotgun at the advancing Death Stalker.

“Turn here!” he heard Pyrrha command in front of him. Almost on a dime, she had changed direction, running on a different heading. Trying not to trip, Jaune narrowly drifted around a tree and followed suit.

                That’s easy for you to do! What about me?!

                He checked back on Dell, who was now hitching a ride on top of his robot.

“Hold on, son!” he shouted. “I got an idea!”

                Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out something that looked suspiciously like a bomb. Prying off the end cap, he struck it hard against the side of the robot. However, instead of just tossing it behind him at the pursuing Death Stalker, he instead stuck it on the back of the robot.

“Let’s do this Texas style!”

                A thunderous boom echoed through the forest as the robot was suddenly propelled forward at high velocity. As the distance between them suddenly closed, Jaune didn’t have any time to react before he was swept up by his feet.

“YIPPIEE-KI-YAY! HEEEEEEE-YAAAHHHHHH!!!” Dell screamed in clear enjoyment, barely holding onto Jaune by one arm. Jaune, meanwhile, was screaming in absolute terror.

                With this burst of speed, the two even caught up to Pyrrha. Taking notice, she quickly flipped backwards in the air, landing on the back of the robot.

“Do we have any idea where this thing’s going?!!!” she shouted.

“I…I ain’t too sure, miss!” Dell shouted back. “But as long as we’re getting away from what’ever the hell that thing is-“

                At that moment, with one last splutter, their fuel ran out. The sudden forward momentum meant that all three of them were launched into the air. As he saw the ground coming closer, there was only one thought circulating in Jaune’s mind:

Not this again!

“RUBYYY!!!! I TOLD YOU THIS WAS A TERRIBLE IDEAAAA!!!!!”

“WE’RE FINE!!! STOP WORRYIIINNNNGGGGG!!!!”

“I AM SO FAR BEYOND WORRYING!!!!!”

“IF I MAY INTERJECT, MISS ROSE, I WHOLEHARTEDLY AGREE WITH MISS SCHNEE!!!!”

“…IN A GOOD WAY!???”

“IN A BAD WAY!!!!!” Weiss and Spy exclaimed in unison.

Perhaps I bit off more than I could chew.

                Spy had wanted just a little bit of leisure time, but it had quickly snowballed into something completely out of his control. The giant creature that was behind the rustling, according to the Schnee heiress, was a Nevermore. It looked like a vulture, if vultures were the literal spawn of Satan. It was something far beyond a simple man with a knife and revolver could handle. So, when Miss Rose proposed an idea, Spy took it, trusting that she would know better. That was how he currently found himself clinging for dear life on one of the Nevermore’s feathers as it flew high in the air.

                Although he had raced full-size passenger jets before, this was decidedly NOT what he had in mind when Ruby said they were going for a “fun little ride.”

“WELL, RUBY!? HAVE ANY MORE BRIGHT IDEAS!!?????” He could barely hear Weiss scream.

“IN FACT, I DO! WHY DON’T WE JUST JUMP!??”

“ARE YOU INSANE!????” Weiss screamed incredulously.

“A MAN DOES NOT SIMPLY JUMP OUT OF AN AIRPLANE IN FLIGHT!!!” Spy added. Unlike that deranged bucket-head, he had standards.

“WELL, GOOD THING I’M A WOMAN!!!”

“THAT WASN’T THE POINT-“ Weiss and Spy began, before realizing they were talking to themselves.

                Ruby had already jumped.

“OH, YOU INSUFFERABLE LITTLE RED THING!!!!!” Weiss reached a whole new level of pitch with her voice.

                Spy squinted, struggling to see as the wind constantly slapped him in the face. He could barely see Miss Rose falling towards the general direction of an abandoned-looking temple. Was that what they were looking for this entire time? He looked back ahead to Miss Schnee, still barely holding on.

                Now, Spy was thinking, perhaps he had a crazy idea of his own.

“MAY I MAKE A SUGGESTION? PERHAPS MISS ROSE IS OF A SOUNDER MIND THAN WE BELIEVE!!!!” he strained to make himself heard through the howling wind.

“WHAT ARE YOU SUGGESTING!???” Weiss shouted back, exasperated.

“I SUGGEST THAT WE JUMP, TOO!”

                The heiress’s head spun around at Spy, staring daggers into him.

“ARE YOU INSANE!????”

                Why yes, in fact, I quite am, Spy wanted to retort, but he knew the more time they wasted bickering wouldn’t help their already-slim chances. As thick-headed as she was, she could slowly see Miss Schnee reluctantly begin to accept that his (Ruby’s) plan was the only way out of this situation.

“JUST BRACE YOURSELF AND EVERYTHING WILL BE ALL RIGHT!!!!” Spy tried to give some last-minute assurances as the Nevermore circled back around. The temple was soon back in sight.

“READY…NOW!”

                It was suddenly raining people.

                Blake watched in amazement as three small specks threw themselves from the circling Nevermore, one by two, falling straight towards her. On the ground, meanwhile, the other three that had been launched from the trees were also coming down to earth. The redhead, which Blake vaguely remembered from somewhere, landed gracefully without any help. The man with the big hat was caught by Heavy before he could even hit the ground. The blonde just ate a faceful of dirt.

“Ruby!” she heard Yang exclaim as she suddenly rushed by her. Blake looked back up at the incoming human-sized projectiles from the air. Indeed, she recognized one of them as Yang’s little sister, Ruby.

                …she still couldn’t see a family resemblance.

“SPY!” Demoman bellowed at the next person, trying to position himself below him.

Must be another one of their friends.

                With little effort, Yang was able to catch Ruby before she hit the ground. Demoman, however, only turned himself into a target, with the man in the suit and funny mask being the bullet. They were both left in a sprawling heap on the ground.

“Ugh…why does this keep happening to me…” the blonde groaned, still spitting dirt out of his mouth. He had only gotten up for a second before he was promptly knocked over again by the third person. Blake gritted her teeth.

                The Schnee.

“…my hero,” Weiss said ungratefully, picking at her nails.

“Great, the gang’s all here!” Yang said, putting Ruby down. “Now we can die together!”

                Blake readied Gambol Shroud in her hands. Indeed, a certain air of dread had befallen the group. Even though there were twelve of them, they were about to face off against a Death Stalker and a Nevermore.

                Could this day get any worse?

Meanwhile, somewhere above all the chaos...

“The last two teams have been formed,” observed Glynda, watching through her Scroll. Through all the excitement, the final pairs had made the time to grab their relics from the temple.

“Mmm.” The man next to her acknowledged. Glynda couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“Are you sure about this, Professor Ozpin?” Glynda asked. “With all this friction between these pairs from the start, do you really think they can form good teams together?”

“…Have trust, Glynda,” Ozpin finally answered after some silence.

                Glynda sighed. Although his physical appearance was definitely aging, Professor Ozpin had shown time and time again that his mind was as sharp as ever. But his handling of this whole situation struck her as odd. All that she hoped was that he wasn’t getting in over his head. After all, they had been at this together for so long that Glynda couldn’t even remember how many years had passed since she first stepped foot here.

“…and what about our guests?” Glynda asked next, flipping through her Scroll. An overhead view soon appeared on the screen, showing the four older men accompanying this combined team of eight.

                There was no response.

“Professor Ozpin?” Glynda looked up.

                Ozpin was deep in thought. His Scroll showed the same view that was on Glynda’s, but he was just staring at it without a single word. He stroked his chin.

“Hmm…”

Chapter Text

“Gah!” Ruby exclaimed, feeling a strong jerk around her neck. She looked back at her cape; one of the Nevermore’s feathers had pierced it, pinning it to the ground.

“Ruby, get out of there!” she heard her older sister behind her.

“I’m…trying!” Ruby grunted as she tugged at her cape. No matter how much she pulled, she was stuck.

                She heard a loud hiss behind her. Eyes wide, she slowly turned around. There, right in front of her, was the Death Stalker, stinger poised to attack.

                As the large, glowing spike plunged down, Ruby braced for a world of hurt.

                Except…

                It never came.

“…you are SO childish.”

                Ruby’s eyes shot open. The stinger had been stopped inches from her face, now stuck in a big chunk of ice. And, standing right in front of her with a scowl on her face, was Weiss.

“Weiss…?” Ruby said, voice trembling.

“…AND dimwitted, AND hyperactive, and don’t even get me started on your fighting style,” Weiss continued, pulling her sword out of the ground. “and I suppose…”

                Weiss uncharacteristically paused. Ruby, who was already starting to space out, snapped back to attention.

“…I can be a bit…diff-i-cult…” she forced the last syllables through. “But if we’re going to do this, we’re going to have to do this together.” She leaned in close.

“So, if you quit trying to show off, I’ll be…nicer.”

                Ruby sighed.

“I’m not trying to show off…I want you to know that I can do this.”

                Weiss paused as she considered her next words.

“…you’re fine,” was all that she said, walking away. Ruby was left to contemplate.

                Did Weiss…just come around to her?

                Yang soon embraced her in a suffocating hug.

“Aw, thank Gods you’re okay!”

                As the two shared a moment, Jaune pointed out the thing in the sky was turning around.

“Uhh, guys? That thing’s circling back…what are we gonna do?”

“Look, there’s no sense in dilly-dallying,” he heard Weiss respond, walking up behind him. “What’s certain is that we don’t stand a chance right now against those things right here.” She thumped her sword on the ground.

“I agree,” Pyrrha remarked. “We’re too out in the open. We need to find some cover.”

                Blake noticed that Weiss had suddenly turned around away from them.

“SheagreedwithmeSheagreedwithmeSheagreedwithmeSheagreedwithme!!!” she heard her whisper to herself excitedly. Blake rolled her eyes.

“All right,” the masked man said, taking control of the situation. “A proposal has been put on the table. Now, is anyone against this motion?”

                Everyone quickly shook their heads.

“Well then, what are we waiting for? Move!”

                With the two Grimm hot on their trail, the group ran through the forest until they came upon an abandoned castle of sorts. Screeching to a halt, they all stopped to catch their breath.

“…this place look good?” Nora panted, out of breath.

“…I think so,” replied Ruby, in a similar state. There was at least some place to take cover here, compared to the open field before. They couldn’t break for long, though, as the Nevermore suddenly appeared overhead. Landing on a perch that blocked their way, it let out an unholy screech.

“Well, that’s great…” muttered Yang.

                Taking cover behind a rock, Ren got ready to move.

“Nora, distract it,” he ordered. With a toothy grin, Nora flashed a thumbs up at him.

“No problem!”

                Dashing out, Nora expertly dodged the Nevermore’s feather attacks before taking out her grenade launcher and firing. It worked, as the Nevermore temporarily disengaged from the onslaught of thunderous kabooms.

                Demoman and Engineer watched in amazement.

“Ooh, I like her…” Demoman commented, watching Nora run. Engineer cleared his throat.

“As much as you might want to fancy her, partner, you might wanna do it later!” He said, pointing behind Demoman. Engineer was right; tearing through the bush, right at them, was the Death Stalker.

“AW, CRIPE!”

                Scrambling back to his feet, Demoman started to run again, hot on the heels of Engineer. Oh, the things he would give to have even one of his weapons back right now…

                The group soon found themselves scattered among the ruins. Blake, along with a few others, found herself in a large arena, flanked on one side by a hill and by three walkways on the other. One was blocked off by rubble; the Nevermore had landed on another.

                As for the third…

“Uh…guys?” Blake said, with rising concern in her voice. Bounding down the third walkway, right at them, were a bunch of Ursas and Beowolves. They must have been attracted by all the commotion.

                A big, meaty hand soon grabbed her shoulder, pushing her aside. Blake turned to see Heavy slowly walk past her towards the oncoming horde. Cracking her fists, Yang also stepped up, seemingly deciding to take a stand as well.

“Little devotchka will fight?” The big man asked quizzically.

“Hell yeah, I will.” Yang readied Ember Celica. “Just try to keep up with this little...um, 'whatever you just said,' big guy!”

                Heavy let out an intrigued grunt before preparing to face down the approaching Grimm. Behind Blake, the man with the goggles loaded some fresh rounds into his shotgun. He gave Blake a little tip of his hat.

“Let’s give ‘em a good ol’ Texas welcome!” He said, pumping the handle.

                Blake had no idea what ‘Texas’ was, but he had gotten his point across regardless. She glanced around at everyone else around her, readying their weapons. Even the Schnee heiress stood at the ready right next to her, blade held up at the advancing Nevermore.

                They were all in agreement; they would hold their ground here.

Elsewhere…

“Look out, Pyrrha!” Jaune shouted. Without hesitation, Pyrrha quickly leaped to the side, dodging an attack from the Death Stalker. Switching her spear to rifle mode, she fired off some shots at it before disengaging.

                Jaune watched his classmates leap, flip, even zipline through the air, dodging the attacks of the attacking Grimm. He gripped his sword and shield hard in his hands; somehow, he had been unscathed so far. Well, maybe it was because he was still standing a bit away from the fight.

                His hands started to tremble as Jaune tried to psych himself up. Ok, this is it. I’m gonna finally do it. Time to do my family proud-

“Jaune, watch out!”

                Jaune didn’t even have time to figure out whose voice that was before a large shadow loomed above him. Mouth agape, he looked right into the eyes of an Ursa, standing on its hind legs, ready to strike. All the words he said to himself earlier went for naught; he completely froze up.

“JAUNE!”

                The impact somehow didn’t hurt as much as Jaune was expecting. Well, ok, maybe he was kidding, it hurt like hell. Jaune was launched backward, Crocea Mors flying out of his hand. He hit the ground with a thud. As he heard another thunderous roar above him, Jaune didn’t even bother opening his eyes again.

It was nice knowing you, cruel world.

                As he braced for the inevitable, the ground started to shake beneath him.

"aaaaaeeeeeEEEAAAAEEEEEEEEEAAAAUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!”  

                Instead of hearing the sickening squelch of claws tearing flesh, Jaune heard the loud crunch of metal shattering bone. He could’ve sworn he also heard a cheer from a distant crowd. Regardless, the pain he braced for didn’t come. He slowly opened his eyes.

“Wha…?”

                Someone suddenly grabbed his arm, pulling him back up to his feet. It was Ren.

“You ok?”

“Yeah…” Jaune muttered, rubbing the back of his head. “wha-what happened…?”

“Demoman just did a, um…” Ren paused, trying to find his words. “…just did a thing.”

                He was interrupted by loud, raucous laughter. Focusing his eyes, Jaune soon found Demoman, pumping his fists in the air. His shield was latched onto one of his arms.

“HAHA!! I CAN STILL DO IT! TAKE THAT, MERASMUS!” Demoman screamed, shaking a fist at nothing in particular. Once he saw Jaune back on his feet, he suddenly…teleported…? back towards them.

“You all right, laddie?” He asked, handing Jaune’s shield back to him. “Aye, thanks for ‘dis.”

“No…problem.” Jaune was still struggling to comprehend what he had just seen. No, Demoman hadn’t just teleported as he had initially thought. He had instead just ran towards him at a completely inhuman speed, almost too fast for his eyes to see. He looked down at his shield, now looking strangely unfamiliar to him. He could’ve sworn he had just seen it glow an electric blue…

                He looked back up and Demoman, and back down at the shield one more time. In the distance, he saw Nora, Pyrrha and Spy struggling to deal with the Death Stalker.

                At that moment…Jaune had an idea.

“YEAH! TAKE THAT!” Yang cried out, driving a rocket-powered fist straight into the face of the last remaining Beowolf. As the creature reeled, she boosted herself up into the air and fired some blasts into its now-vulnerable backside, delivering the killing blow. She landed on a knee as the Beowolf dissipated into smoke.

“Woohoo!” she exclaimed, pumping her fist in the air. Man, she hadn’t had this much fun in a while!

                She heard a loud thud behind her. Turning around, she saw Heavy quite literally wrestling an Ursa. Every roar that came out of the beast’s mouth was matched (or perhaps exceeded) in volume by Heavy’s own.

“RAAAAUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHH!!!” Heavy roared behind his visor, forcing the Ursa’s jaw open with his bare hands.

                Yang considered assisting.

…Nah, she thought to herself. He’s got it handled.

                Her assumption was soon proven right. With a hard left hook, Heavy clobbered the beast across the face. Wasting no time, he grappled it before executing an old-school suplex. Grabbing the incapacitated Ursa’s leg, he slung it over the ledge. Yang peeked over, watching it fall as it dipped below the fog layer.

                Flipping his visor back up, Heavy stepped towards Yang.

“Heavy counts six,” he huffed.

“I got nine!” Yang stuck out nine fingers. “Niceeeeee!”

                She laughed as Heavy cried out in defeat. A little competition aside, Yang could still appreciate the fact that Heavy was a very capable fighter. Doing all that, without any weapons or a Semblance? Not even an Aura? He was crazy to willingly throw himself into battle like this!

But, Yang thought, patting Heavy’s back. It’s just like my kind of crazy.

“Well?” Yang asked, pointing at the Nevermore, which was currently getting pestered by Blake, Weiss, Ruby and Engineer. “Should we help them?”

                With a sniffle, Heavy wiped the last tears from his eyes.

“Yes!”

Chapter Text

                Pyrrha charged forward at the Death Stalker, both weapons in hand. As the creature attacked with one of its claws, she deflected it with Akoúo̱ before jabbing out with Miló, scoring a hit. Ren, vaulting up a stone pillar, leaped and grabbed onto its stinger. Despite hanging on precariously, he was able to recover enough to draw one of his pistols and fire directly into the stinger at close range.

                Rearing up, the creature screeched in pain. Ren was thrown off, hitting a nearby cliff face with a thud. He slumped to the ground.

“REN!” Nora shouted. Taking out her grenade launcher, she fired off a barrage of grenades. Before they could hit, though, the Death Stalker covered its face with its claws, the grenades exploding harmlessly against its thick armor.

                Backflipping away from the danger, Pyrrha landed on a nearby footbridge. Readying her weapons, she heard a faint rumbling behind her. In an instant, Jaune was by her side, riding on top of Demoman's shoulders like some sort of majestic (kind of?) knight. With an eerie whisper, Spy materialized out of thin air by her other side.

“This isn’t working!” Jaune gasped, getting down from Demoman’s back. “We need a plan!”

                Pyrrha nodded. She noted how the Death Stalker had protected itself from Nora’s grenade blasts. Its eyes must be vulnerable, she realized. One good throw from Miló could do the trick…she needed a distraction.

“Its eyes are its weakness!” She shouted. “Give me an opening!”

                With a nod, the four sprung into action. Firing his revolver, Spy ran to one side, taking all of the Death Stalker’s attention. As a claw swung down, he narrowly leaped out of the way, hitting the pavement. Getting back up, he heard a strange electric buzzing sound. Looking down, he realized that it was coming from his watch. The face was cracked.

                Merde, he cursed to himself. Reloading, he continued to fire away, trying to distract the creature to the best of his ability.

                Still on the bridge, Nora and Pyrrha stood at the ready. Demoman and Jaune were on standby a bit farther back.

“Now!” Pyrrha ordered. With a big grin, Nora obliged, launching more of her grenades at the Death Stalker. Expectedly, it covered its eyes to protect itself. Taking a knee, Pyrrha took aim with Miló, waiting for an opportunity.

Not yet, not yet…

                Now.

                She threw the spear with perfect form, the sharp end cutting through the air at high velocity. Just as she predicted, the Death Stalker couldn’t recover in time. Miló flew right in between a gap in its claws and embedded deep into one of its eyes. It let out a loud, horrible screech of pain.

“COME ONN!!!!” She heard Demoman cry out behind her. She quickly scampered out of the way, unless she wanted to get run over by an unstoppable train.

                With one final battle cry, Demoman charged, dragging Jaune along for the ride. Aiming towards a semi-angled pile of debris, their momentum carried them up and straight at the Death Stalker.

                Gripping his sword with both hands, Jaune swung with all his might. His blade cut clean through the stinger, leaving a gushing, bloody stump where it had once been. The sharp end fell, sticking into the Death Stalker’s head.

“Smash it, Nora!”

“Aww, yeeaaahhhhh!” Nora said excitedly, switching her grenade launcher into hammer form. Jumping up, she vaulted on top of Akoúo̱. With their combined strength, Nora was launched high into the air.

“WOOHOO! IT’S HAMMER TIME!!!!” Nora shrieked as she smashed her hammer down on the stinger with all her might. The resulting shockwave knocked Pyrrha into the air. She quickly snagged Miló out of the Death Stalker’s eye before landing on the other side of the bridge. Now structurally compromised, the bridge completely collapsed, taking the infernal creature with it into the abyss.

                With a flip of her hair, Pyrrha get back onto her feet. All of her team had made it to the other side, more or less.

“We…did it…” Jaune muttered, dazed. He tapped Demoman’s back, who was lying face down on the ground. “…you ok?”

“…thankfully I already don’t remember this…” Demoman groaned, a finger weakly pointing up in the air before falling limp again.

“Ugh…” Pyrrha heard Ren come up beside her, clutching his abdomen. Spy was giving him a hand.

“…are you alright?” Pyrrha asked, worried. “Sorry you got the short end of the stick, there…”

“i-It’s fine,” Ren grunted. He tried to laugh, but winced instead. “I mean, we did kill it in the end, right?”

                That was true. Through their combined efforts, they had finally slayed the terrible beast.

                Now, for the other one…

                Yang fired off more shots at the attacking Nevermore, quickly ducking down below the reach of its talons as it tried to grab her. Flapping its giant wings, it circled around for another pass.

                With a smirk, Yang switched the ammo type on her gauntlets. She had just seen a glance of Pyrrha’s team killing the Death Stalker; she wasn’t about to let her group get one-upped.

                As the Nevermore bared down on her, she turned and quickly ran in the opposite direction. Heading towards a collapsed wall, she called out:

“Heads up!”

                Right on cue, Heavy emerged from behind the rock pile. As Yang leaped over the wall, Heavy grabbed her by a leg. Swinging her around to gain extra momentum, he threw Yang straight towards the Nevermore. Yang jammed herself between its open beak, one arm preventing it from chomping down on her.

“I. HOPE. YOU’RE. HUNGRY!!” Shouted Yang, all while firing shells straight down the Nevermore’s throat. Catching just a slight glace of what she was heading towards, she bailed as the Nevermore crashed straight into the side of a mountain. Now perched precariously on the ruins of another building, it cawed another guttural screech at the group.

                Before the Nevermore could take flight again, Weiss slid over on a patch of ice, as fast as lightning. Boosting herself up with one of her Glyphs, she froze the Nevermore’s tail into the structure before retreating.

Standing on top of a pillar, Blake took careful aim at Engineer, who had rappelled down a bit on an adjacent one. Using the gun's recoil as extra momentum, she threw Gambol Shroud across, its ribbon unfurling freely in her hand. Snagging it out of the air with one hand, Engineer stuck the scythe end into his pillar. Climbing down a bit to match the level, Blake pulled the rope taut, essentially creating a large slingshot.

                Firing Crescent Rose behind her, Ruby leaped into position. Standing on top of the massive blade, she leaned against the ribbon. Weiss summoned a glyph behind her, holding her in place for now.

“Of course you would come up with this idea.”

“…think you can make the shot?” Ruby asked.

“Hmph! Can I?” Weiss scoffed. An awkward silence ensued.

“…can you-“

“Of course I can!” Weiss cut her off. Looking back at her target with determined eyes, Ruby cycled in a round. Let’s do it then.

                Using all their combined efforts, the group launched Ruby high into the air, straight at the struggling Nevermore. With rose petals following in her wake, Ruby kept firing Crescent Rose behind her to gain as much momentum as possible. With a swing, she hooked the Nevermore’s neck in her blade, pinning it to the side of the mountain.

                Mustering all of her remaining power, Weiss summoned platforms that ran all the way up to the very top. Utilizing Crescent Rose’s massive recoil once more, Ruby began to scale to cliff face, all with the Nevermore in tow. Finally, as soon as she reached the top, the last shot in her magazine sliced the Nevermore’s head clean off. The headless corpse was left to fall to earth.

                Everyone watched in amazement at Ruby as she stood at the top of the mountain, cape flapping triumphantly in the breeze.

“Well,” Yang broke the silence. “…that was a thing.”

“…I see,” Ozpin muttered, trying to digest the information that had been dumped on him. It was a major understatement to say that he had a massive headache right now.

                Immediately after the Initiation ceremony, he had summoned the four strange men into his office. While he had been impressed at their skills in assisting the newly-minted teams RWBY and JNPR, he also knew the considerable risks that had come with suddenly allowing four "rogue elements" (as someone else might like to call them) to run free during the initiation. But, the longtime tradition at Beacon Academy meant that professors were at Initiation to simply observe, not intervene. And observe they did, just like every other year.

                He took a glance at Glynda beside his desk. If she was as utterly confused as he was, her face didn’t show it. However, she still hadn’t looked him in the eyes once since Initiation, as if something was clearly disturbing her about him. Ozpin did understand the constant reservations she had in his decision-making, as they were often for good reason. He would be a fool to not admit that her trust in him was currently at an all-time low.

“Do you have anything more to ask of us?” The man only known as Spy asked. Outside of his other skills, he seemed to be the most qualified in communication and general diplomacy among the four.

“…none for now, thank you,” replied Ozpin. He definitely needed some more time alone to think on this. As for the group of now interdimensional travelers…

“We’ll temporarily quarter you here in Beacon for now. Afterwards, I guess we’ll try to set something up for you four in Vale.” He motioned to Glynda. “Professor Goodwitch will show you the way to the dorms.”

“You are too kind, Headmaster,” Spy said amicably, bowing. “Merci beaucoup.”

                As Glynda led the four away, Ozpin was left to his own thoughts. Safe to say, it was quite some story he had been told.

What rotten luck, he thought with pity. Their world had been hit twice over by near-apocalyptic events back-to-back. It seemed that all of the members of this “Mann Co.” team were carrying some emotional baggage from what they had seen. But this wasn’t the thing that had disturbed Ozpin the most.

                There really was no “big bad” in their world. Nothing so evil or utterly reprehensible outside of the vestiges of humanity that could unite the masses under one singular cause. No. Instead, time and time again, humans in this world had torn themselves apart, driven against each other by greed and delusions of power. The utter existence of this concept shook Ozpin to his core; it reminded him very much of the Great War, something he promised he would put behind him forever. For much of the following decades, he had preached “unity through diversity,” but just how much good had that done? Just how much of Remnant’s core was currently rotting beneath its surface?

                He glanced over at his Scroll. His message to James had still gone unopened. This was highly out of character for him; while he was a busy man, the General had always found time to answer his longtime friend’s messages promptly. Right now, Ozpin definitely felt like he needed James’s insight on this situation. Not only because he thought these four were better suited to his line of work, but the fact that the rest of their “team”, five in total, were still unaccounted for. They could still be out there somewhere. And if Spy’s, um, rather detailed descriptions of some of them were to be believed…

                Ozpin took a sip from his ever-present mug. His head was swirling. With a heavy sigh, he picked up his Scroll again. He decided to try something that Bart had mentioned to him in a conversation once: write out your thoughts. Even though he had brought it up only in passing, and the fact that it had been directed more towards James if anything, it had stuck with Ozpin for quite some time now. As night began to fall, he began to type.

                Spy sat alone on a balcony, quietly smoking a cigarette. Professeur Goodwitch had been quite insistent that all the buildings on Beacon’s campus, especially the dorms, had a strict no-smoking policy. Spy didn’t really have much energy left to try to argue with another strict, serious looking, unusually tall middle-aged woman. He was already seeing way too many unpleasant similarities between Goodwitch and pretty much the only person he truly feared back in his world (well, maybe other than Pyro): The Administrator.

                He took a glance up at the moon, or at least, part of the moon. He had noticed its striking features start to emerge as the sun went down. A decent chunk of it was completely shattered, loose fragments somehow still being held in place within the celestial body’s orbit. He wasn’t even going to start thinking about how many scientific laws of nature were being violated right now. It might even be out of that cowboy’s scope, which was saying something.

                He re-adjusted his watch’s strap for what seemed like the 14^th time. Engineer had only been able to do a temporary fix; as a result, his cloaking system was still bugging out. Presently, he could only go invisible for maybe three seconds, tops. Patting one side of his jacket, he checked that his cigarette case was still in its place. While that was still intact, he hadn’t tried any disguises yet since coming here; he wasn’t even sure where to start, really. "An unholy, mindless creature whose sole purpose was to kill" was decidedly not in his area of acting expertise.

                He checked the time: 11:38 pm. It was doubtful that it was synced up correctly, but he could tell it was getting late regardless. Putting out his cigarette, he got ready to retire for the night.

Chapter Text

                Ironwood heard a knock on his door.

“Come in,” he said.

                While he always held a rather intense expression on him at all times, Ironwood’s face relaxed a bit upon seeing who entered his office.

“Specialist Schnee.”

“General,” the oldest Schnee sibling acknowledged.

“Has the situation been taken care of?”

“Yes, sir,” Winter replied. “The Ace-Ops performed their duties valiantly.”

“Good, good,” Ironwood nodded. They had done their job well, as he had predicted. “…Casualties?” He finally asked after some silence.

“The chief of police tells me the number is up to 60 and rising,” Winter reported solemnly. “However, no fatalities have been reported thus far.”

                The general let out an audible sigh of relief.

“Thank goodness. Let’s hope that number remains at zero,” Ironwood said with a bit of ease before his eyes narrowed again. “And what about our perpetrators?”

“All three of them are in custody and currently under interrogation.”

“Anything so far?”

                Winter paused, eyes shifting a bit off to the side before refocusing.

“That’s the thing, sir…you might want to come take a look for yourself.”

Oh? Ironwood raised a brow. He had never known Winter to look this…uneasy before. Something else must be going on.

                He glanced over at his desk. He still hadn’t answered Ozpin’s message. The old man must be worried sick at this point.

Oh well, Ironwood thought to himself. He’s going to have to wait a little bit longer.

                Spy opened his eyes to the view of a hospitable, but unfamiliar ceiling. He put a hand to his head.

So this wasn’t just all a bad dream.

                After freshening up, Spy chose his outfit for the day. As his previous one was pretty much ruined, he had been graciously allowed by Professor Ozpin to pick and choose from some of Beacon’s inventory. What he ended up deciding on was almost identical to the standard Beacon Academy uniform, minus the vest. While he preferred to wear one, something about its deep blue color was off-putting to him. He had noted that besides the ties, there was a distinct lack of proper red among the male catalogue.

                He had taken just one step out of his quarters when he heard the distinct sounds of running shoes against the floor. Screeching around the corner and running straight by him to the exit was team RWBY, closely followed by team JNPR.

“Good morning, Spy!” Ruby exclaimed with that sing-songy voice of hers as she ran by.

“Lookin’ snazzy!” said Yang, pointing finger guns as she followed her half-sister.

                Spy watched the eight students barge through the front doors, rushing to get to their first-period class. He let out a wry chuckle; ah, the energy and enthusiasm of the youth.

                Taking his time, Spy eventually made his way outside as well. The day was new, so there was still the issue of what he could do to pass the time. From what he had discerned with their conversation with Professor Ozpin, it would be some time before they could even entertain the thought of returning home. Looking around the sprawling campus before him, he carefully considered his options. Perhaps he could take a “trip” into this city called Vale. There would probably be a public library there. He had always liked to read in his study when he wasn’t on mission; and right now, with so much of this world still a mystery to him, perhaps he could indulge himself for a couple hours.

“…yes…,” Spy muttered to himself. “At least until the rest of our comrades are found, wherever they may be…”

                Engineer dropped the box of supplies with a loud thud.

“Phew!” He said, wiping some sweat from his brow. “That there wasn’t getting any lighter!”

                Dell Conagher solved practical problems. While his preferred solutions almost always involved overwhelming firepower, that wasn’t the only skill he was proficient at. He had 11 PhDs for a good reason. So, as much as he was a tinkerer and perfectionist, he was also a massive workaholic.

                He had already made as much “improvements” to his bunk as he could think of, so his insatiable drive had inevitably taken him out and about Beacon’s campus. While Spy had told him to keep a low profile as they still couldn’t provide a believable story on their sudden appearance in this world, he couldn’t help himself. That’s how he found himself currently deep inside the bowels of one of the main administrative buildings, helping the singular custodian/janitor with some menial work.

“Oh, please, sir,” the janitor, an amicable, wiry old man by the name of Oliver Tree said. “You are too kind.”

“Aw, it ain’t no problem, mister,” Dell said. “Can’t do much good in your life sitting ‘round and dawdlin’.”

“That be true, that be true,” chuckled Oliver. Taking out some tools from Dell’s toolbox, they both got to work tightening up some leaky water pipes.

“You really do all this work by your lonesome?”

“Aye, that I do, lad. Been that way for the past 30-odd years now.”

“That’s some big responsibility.”

“Oh well, I’m perfectly content with it,” Oliver gave a warm smile. “Although I always appreciate some extra hands, of course.”

                After fixing the pipes, they cleaned up the mess the leaks had left on the floor.

“So,” Oliver started as the two took a well-deserved break, “Where exactly are you from again?”

                Dell cleared a lump in his throat; it was only a matter of time before they would get to that.

“Well…” Dell trailed off. “Let’s just say I haven’t really got a home no longer.” Even if he was able to return to his humble little ranch in Texas, there was no knowing what sort of destruction and chaos would await him. “I’m just a simple man trying to make my way through the world, now.”

                It was a horrible lie; however, Oliver didn’t press the topic any more.

“Well, as I said, I do always appreciate some help,” he said. “So, if you get the thought again someday, you know where to find me.”

Later that day

                It had been a quiet night in Ozpin’s office when his scroll rang.

“I was wondering when you would get back to me, James,” Ozpin said with some playful teasing at the projection that popped up on the screen. It had been almost a full day since he had sent that message, after all.

“Yes Oz, I know. I’m…sorry,” Ironwood muttered, closing his eyes as he had to swallow his pride. “There was…a situation over here in Atlas I had to deal with. Everything’s under control now.”

                An eyebrow raised slightly.

“Is it something I or the rest of the council should be made aware of, James?”

“I…” Ironwood trailed off. He massaged his temples a bit, as if he was trying to relieve some remaining stress from something.

“I will...in due time. We’re still trying to figure things out ourselves at the moment. Now, what was it you had for me?” He tried to change the subject.

                Ozpin pursed his lips. James being hard to work with as per usual. No matter.

“To put it simply, we had an…interesting happening at our Initiation ceremony yesterday. Some things led to another, and now I have four men in my care who claim to be…from a different world.”

                Ironwood blinked.

“…another…world?”

“Yes, so as you can imagine, I’ve also had my hands full trying to keep this under wraps.” His gaze wandered, as if he was conjuring up a vaguely amusing memory. “They weren’t exactly subtle in their arrival…”

“Does that mean…she has something to do about this?” Ironwood demanded, voice rising a bit.

“Now, now,” Ozpin tried to calm him down. “While I suspect that some magic may have been involved, I also have good reason to believe that their arrival here resulted from an…unfortunate accident of sorts in their world.” This was partially true: from what he had discerned from Spy, it seemed like this old wizard “Merasmus” was a bit…incompetent, if anything, considering the powers at his disposal.

                Ozpin paused a bit to let James process this information. As he knew James had a tendency to always assume the worst, Ozpin decided he would keep the surprises one at a time. He would have to mention the presence of Grimm in their world at a later date, perhaps in a full council meeting. It would be tiring to constantly repeat himself, after all.

“…I see,” said James after some time. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes, in fact,” Ozpin affirmed. He began to inform him about the still-missing members of this team. When he got to their descriptions, Ironwood’s eyes widened.

“…James?” Ozpin stopped, having noticed. “Is something wrong?”

“I-I…um…” the general stammered, looking off to the side. The more he struggled, the more Ozpin became certain of a theory that was rapidly forming in his head.

“…You’ve found some of them, haven’t you?”

Chapter Text

Atlas Command Center

“Look, I told you everything I know already! Now can you just let me go?” Scout exclaimed, exasperated.

                His interrogator scoffed.

“You really think can just walk free after that stuff you just pulled out there!? And if you don’t start making any sense soon, we’ll gladly lock you inside one of our maximum-security prisons forever.”

                Scout was almost at his wit’s end. What little he remembered at this point fighting against Merasmus had already pushed him to his breaking point. And that wasn’t even getting to what had happened in the last couple hours…

Mantle, District 12

Early morning

“I lost him!” Scout said, panting, leaning against a wall to catch his breath. “Can you see-“

                He was interrupted by a rumble of a nearby explosion.

“There’s your answer!” the static-y voice of Sniper came through his earbuds. “Now get bloody going!”

“God freaking…” Scout muttered, pushing his way through a crowd of panicked people. He cut through a back alley, jumping and double-jumping through the air as he dodged obstacles and some more people.

                When he had woken up, Scout had found himself in an alley similar to the one he was running through now. It surprisingly hadn’t taken long for him to find Sniper, halfway stuck in a dumpster nearby.

                And, well, they had eventually found Soldier. If the explosions didn’t make that obvious.

                If there was something that Soldier hated more than Communists, it was Nazis. Much like the former, he applied this term rather broadly, which meant…basically every German or German-looking person in the universe was at risk of incurring his wrath. And, judging from the small snippets of the crazed ranting Scout could make out, something here must have set that psycho off.

                So, for the past hour, in a twist of irony from their usual jobs, Scout and Sniper were trying to stop any further bloodshed.

“I see him!” Sniper again. “He’s heading west, past the movie theater!”

“That ain’t exactly helping me down here, dumbass!” Scout shot back as he swung right onto a main road. “What the hell even is your plan, anyway!?”

                Even if Sniper could shoot Soldier or something from his perch on the rooftops to stop his rampage, it wasn’t like they had the actual German nearby to patch him up afterwards...

                He could hear Sniper grumble.

“Alright then! He’s doubling back now, so stay ahead of him and evacuate some of these civvies be’for they get hurt!”

“Doubling bac-aw, crap,” Scout cut himself off, skidding to a halt. He had just come up to what he assumed was the movie theater Sniper had just mentioned. Soldier was originally heading away from it, so if he had just turned around…

                Scout promptly did a one-eighty, entering a still-untouched part of this neighborhood; if its occupants even had half of a functioning brain (or some ears, maybe), they would’ve gotten the hell out of dodge already, but…

                He barged into the first building he saw, a café judging by the sign. Nearly running straight into a waiter, Scout grabbed his shoulders:

“Look, listen! There’s a crazy bastard on his way here! You gotta clear this place out!” Scout wheezed, almost out of breath.

                The waiter gave him a confused look, which soon morphed into something resembling disgust. He quickly shrugged Scout’s hands off his shoulders.

“…weirdo…” Scout heard him mutter as he walked away. Scout looked around; while his sudden entrance had gotten quite an initial turnout, everyone slowly began to return to what they were doing previously.

                With a heavy sigh, Scout facepalmed.

I do not wanna deal with this crap right now.

                Pulling out his pistol, he emptied the magazine into the ceiling.

“C’mon, move your asses!” Scout demanded with a little more force this time. He pulled a now-terrified looking patron out of their seat and shoved them towards the exit. “Let’s go!”

                Now with some extra encouragement, people began to make their way out. Pistol still in hand, Scout kept managing the crowd.

“Where do we even go!??” someone demanded.

“Aw, wherever, I don’t care!!” Scout replied. “Just not that way!!” he pointed to his left. “’cause if I know that crazy bastard, it ain’t gonna be that much longer ‘til he gets over her-“

                At that instant, everything flashed a bright white. Scout was thrown backwards; there was a shot of pain as his head hit something. He was momentarily knocked senseless: ears ringing, vision blurry. With a barely-audible groan, he slowly pulled himself up. The ringing slowly subsided to sounds of loose rubble falling and groans of pain. It took a bit longer for all the smoke to subside, but when it did…

                There was an all-too-familiar figure standing where the doorway once was. Lugging his rocket launcher back over his shoulder, Soldier pointed it straight towards Scout’s direction. He let out a weirdly feminine scream, jumping straight into the arms of another terrified bystander. They traded a look for only a second before resuming their screaming. Scout could see one of Soldier’s fingers pull the trigger…

                only for nothing to happen.

                He was out of ammunition.

                Cursing, Soldier started to fiddle with the thing, not yet realizing he was out of rockets. The stranger quickly tossed Scout aside as he scrambled away.

                Every limb in Scout’s body was screaming. His fight-or-flight response (solidly flight) was at maximum right now, but his body just refused to move. And even worse…

                Soldier unclipped the two grenades he had on his belt.

“Goddammit! I WILL PERSONALLY SEND ALL YOU BASTARDS TO HELL!!!!” He bellowed, about to pull the pins.

“No…!” was what Scout wanted to say, but his tired vocal cords only managed a cough. This was truly the end!

                But before Soldier could pull the pins completely out, a pair of hands grabbed his arms from behind.

“Goddamnit, you bloody psychopath! Stand down! Stand down!!” he could hear a voice cry out. He could recognize that accent anywhere. Finally managing to get back up, Scout rushed in to assist Sniper in trying to restrain Soldier. Considering the size difference, though, this was a task easier said than done.

“Grgh…!” Scout struggled, basically hanging off of one of Soldier’s still lifted arms. 

“It’s no use! Give it up!” Sniper continued to try using words, but he was drowned out by Soldier’s increasingly hysterical screaming. In a last ditch-effort, Scout began to try kicking his legs, hoping they could at least get him on the ground.

“Aagh!” He heard an exclamation from Sniper beside him. Whatever just happened, he fell down out of his sight.

“Ah shi…” was all that Scout could get out before he was violently thrown off to the side.

                As he dug himself out of yet another rubble pile, Scout began to realize he hadn’t heard Soldier’s grenades explode.

“What the hell…” Scout muttered as he rubbed his eyes. Sniper and Soldier were both down on the ground, struggling. Wrapped around both of their hands were some sort of…chains? Handcuffs? There was this weird, dumbbell-looking thing attached to the string, glowing a faint purple. As Scout bent down to look closer…

                He was suddenly showered with blinding light. Before he could react, he could see a flash of something flying straight towards him. Unable to dodge, Scout soon found himself also down on the ground, his arms tightly bound together by what he assumed was the same device that had just taken down his teammates.

                Five figures emerged from the bright glare.

“Good job, team. Let’s round them up and get them on the next transport.” Said one of them, which Scout assumed was the leader.

               As they got closer, Scout could make out some more details. All five of them were wearing fancy-looking uniforms, mainly white, but with red and navy accents throughout. They were clearly from some kind of military outfit, but none that he recognized.

                A massive, dark-skinned woman (like, as tall as Heavy) picked up Soldier and Sniper with ease and took them away. Another one, a thin, pale looking dude (almost like Scout himself, but with none of the handsomeness of course) started to clean up the rubble with his…arms? Scout wasn’t sure if he was trippin’ or not, but his arms almost looked like they were extending to lengths impossible for a regular person. 

                Eventually, the leader made his way towards him. He had a four-leaf clover pin on his shirt.

“You’re going to have a lot of explaining to do when we get back to Atlas,” he said in a rather jovial tone, reaching down to pick up Scout’s legs. Before he could, though, Scout thrust them outward, knocking him back. Since he was used to getting back up from the ground all the time, he easily jumped back to his feet without the help of his arms.

“You forgot my legs, dumbass,” he quipped. “See ya!”

                Scout bolted, zipping through the back alleyways again. It was only natural; after all, he had years of experience running from cops to back it up. It was simple: you just turn right, then left, then right again, then double back, then straight-

Wha?

                Something - or rather, someone - grabbed him from behind. Scout soon found himself pinned on the ground, unable to move.

“Gotcha! You’re slippery, I’ll give you that,” he heard a voice from behind him. “This is Specialist Bree. Just caught the runner. Moving back to your position now.”

...

...

...What the hell!!?

                Scout prided himself on being the fastest man alive – and yet, somehow, someone had caught him!?

Atlas Command Center

                That same shock had remained in Scout for the next whatever-amount-of-hours. So, as he sat under the blinding lights of the interrogation room, his mind was completely blank. He had almost been able to completely tune out his interrogator, much to her annoyance.

                The slam of a fist against the table forcibly brought him back. The chick looked like she was about the flip the table (with Scout still chained to it, mind you).

                Before she could go on another tirade, however, there was a knock at the door. With a huff, she glared at Scout one more time before leaving, the door not quite closing all the way behind her. Craning his neck, Scout could just barely make out the shadows of two people in a heated conversation. Eventually, one stomped off; the other began to approach. Scout quickly shifted back to his previous position, trying to pretend he hadn’t seen anything.

                This other person stepped into the room, closing the door gently behind her. She was an older woman, with dark shoulder-length hair and yellow eyes. She wore a red bandana around her neck, kinda like Engineer. Other than that, though, she looked the exact same as all of these other stuck-up, pedantic military types Scout had seen around here.

                There was silence as she took a seat. For maybe a solid minute, all she did was stare, those same yellow eyes appearing relaxed but determined.

                Eventually, Scout couldn’t take it anymore.

“What, you got tired of me talkin’ so you’re just gonna stare at me now?” He quipped.

                The woman smirked.

“I could, unless you start giving us something to work with. My colleague said that you haven’t been that cooperative.”

Jesus, not this again…Scout thought to himself. Although Spy had given the entire team a basic crash course on what to do under interrogation, Scout had never thought much of it. You had to get caught to be interrogated, after all. So, finding himself here, after actually getting caught…he had panicked a little. Eh, it was more like saving his own skin. He was definitely NOT interested in what kind of pain would come if he kept his mouth shut. He vaguely remembered some examples he had been told (well, at least ones he wasn’t sleeping through): a finger, maybe the entire hand, or the face.

                Oh God. DEFINITELY not the face.

“Well, I don’t know what to tell ya, but I ain’t changin’ my story,” Scout tried to look tough, leaning back on the chair and crossing a leg over the other.

                The woman sighed.

“…I suppose it can’t be helped.” She looked off to the side while drumming her fingers on the table, probably thinking of a new strategy.

“Well, then, um…Scout,” the woman started. “Let’s suppose, then, all of what you’ve said is true. Shall I start with the first problem?”

“Yeah, yeah, what?”

“We have zero records of you. While there are more…off the grid individuals we are aware of, it is simply impossible for someone to be a complete ghost,” she gestured behind her, where presumably Soldier and Sniper were in their own little rooms like this one. “And yet, now we have you three. This can't be a simple coincidence.”

“Pfft, yeah, join the club, lady,” Scout scoffed. It was, like, an open secret that Mann Co. was the most notorious company out there, in multiple definitions of the word. Everybody calls each other codenames, for crying out loud!

“Hmm…” the woman muttered in thought. “I’m afraid we’re still not understanding each other here.”

“Oh yeah? How?”

“You mentioned being from ‘Boston?’”

“Hell yeah, I did. Born and raised, baby,” Scout tried to thump his chest before realizing that, yes, his hands were still chained to the table. Goddammit.

“See, that’s where our second problem lies. ‘Boston’…well, isn’t a city.”

“What the frick is that supposed to mean?”

“Boston does not exist in this kingdom, or anywhere in this world.”

                What.

                Scout just stared, mouth agape. The woman chuckled silently.

“Now it seems like you’re the one staring.”

                Scout’s jaw snapped back into position. After fumbling a lot of words, he finally decided with:

“You’re joking.”

“Oh? Now what makes you think we’re suddenly trying to deceive you?” She was clearly enjoying this. “We’ve been anything but dishonest to you up to this point.”

                Scout’s spiraling train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a soft buzzing sound. The woman pulled something out from her pocket, looking at it from under the table.

“Oh, it seems my time is up,” she got up promptly, heading for the door. “Perhaps now, you’re thinking of reconsidering for next time.”