Chapter Text
Arthur Watts is a man of action, believing everything was earned through merit.
Everything he achieved, he worked for and earned with his own effort. The only handouts he was given he made sure were for good reason, like gratitude or respect.
Watts knew that everything had a reason, like being a trusted aid of the future Queen of Remnant due to his drive and intellect.
So he knew that whatever his instruments picked up a good couple hours ago was something to check on.
The energy readings he recorded were brief, barely even noticed if it wasn’t recorded in the first place. What brought his attention, however, was the sheer magnitude of energy his machines relayed back.
The sheer level of output it relayed for that mere moment could power all of Atlas for decades! The moment he discovered it, he went to personally report it to Salem…if she hadn’t already been aware of it.
She sent some Grimm toward the location an hour and a half ago, and ten minutes afterward Salem sensed the scouts were destroyed. She continued to send more and more Grimm toward the source for a full hour until she decided to finally send in Arthur himself to investigate alongside Tyrian.
They had been traveling toward the last location of the energy reading for a few minutes now, and Arthur noted that Salem was still sending in some Grimm toward the location if the lack of growling was any indicator.
However, as they approached the location…the growling finally started…
Alongside the sound of wind.
Immediately, Arthur and Tyrian stopped the Bullhead and started to hover close enough to observe what was happening, and as Watts was setting the Bullhead to auto-pilot, he looked out the window himself to see what was the source of all this commotion…
What he found simply left him with more questions.
It was difficult to discern what exactly was destroying the hordes upon hordes of Grimm, mainly due to the fact that all he could see was a blur slamming through them all.
Beowulves, Boarbatusks, Ursas, Deathstalkers, not even the flying Nevermores were safe as they were dispatched all the same with ruthless efficiency.
He immediately tried to use the onboard scanners to try and discern what exactly was happening, and he detected that same large surge of energy rapidly moving around.
The source of this infinite power seemed to be alive.
He looked over to Tyrian and saw that he seemed to struggle a little with tracking what was down there, but he seemed to at least follow its destructive path.
“Tyrian, what is it?” He hadn’t actually expected to ask that question, considering he was usually muttering something whenever he watched violence and carnage, but he seemed to be razor-focused on this thing.
“It’s…fast.” To anyone who didn’t know Tyrian, that would sound like the most unintelligent observation. But Watts knew Tyrian, he knew just how fast Tyrian can move and perceive that can make even Speed Semblance blanch at his speed. For Tyrian of all people to say it was fast, this thing must’ve been moving very fast.
Another sensor beeped, and he stepped away from Tyrian to check what it was.
To his utter surprise, he had detected constant frequencies emanating from a very nearby source, and considering the only visible tech he saw was the very Bullhead he was in, he could only assume it was coming from the energy source.
Enough energy to fuel a continent, fast enough to be naked to the human eye, strong enough to tear through Grimm armor like paper, and somehow emanating an encrypted radio frequency while simultaneously fighting.
It was a machine.
It had to be a machine, it was the only conclusion he could come to.
With that in mind, it brought out an interesting time to test something.
Salem had ordered Watts to create an untraceable virus to infect the CCTS to shut-down for an attack planned sometime in the future, something that Cinder and her lackeys had to plant themselves.
While the virus itself was still being tested, he figured a rogue variable like this would help improve whatever kinks and vulnerabilities were left in the code. And if it worked, he could reverse engineer the broken machine for himself and make something that would make Polendina’s pet project pale in comparison.
He used the radio frequencies it was emitting as the access point(shortly after saving it to analyze and decrypt later), knowing that Tyrian would probably be mad at not being able to fight this thing and so decided to simply lie to him about it running out of juice or something…
…He didn’t even notice the sound of wind stopping in its tracks.
Before he could, he felt his Aura protecting him from the sudden explosion and then promptly shatter as something grabbed him by the neck mid-air.
Reeling from the daze, Watts could hear Tyrian yelling and a sudden thud as his vision adjusted from the bright lights to focus on what was holding him.
It was decently short, probably below 4 and a half feet from the looks of it, hard to discern heights when sharp metal claws were digging into your neck just short of drawing blood. It looked like an unfinished animatronic mascot, a metallic cobalt sheen with highlights of yellow and white here and there and sharp pointed quills painting an almost demonic looking crown-silhouette around its head. He noted a hole around the chest area, a nearly silent jet engine roaring in the background as blood rushed to his ears.
“What did you do to me!?” Watts stared into red pupils and black sclera, and it demanded from him in a metallic tone despite its lack of mouth.
The scientist was no fool, one wrong move and he’d most likely join Tyrian down below, and without his aura to protect him like Tyrians most likely did, he would be dead the moment he touched the ground. He needed to stall for time, the virus wasn’t fast-acting and it needed time to infiltrate whatever systems it had.
“Tell me, now!” The clawed hand grasping his throat suddenly surged with energy that even Watts could feel, the sensation nearly burning through his throat outright.
He couldn’t stall this thing long enough, not without losing his life along with it.
“I-I sent a virus through your communications in hopes to—”
“Where am I?” The machine demanded next, not even letting the man finish or collect his thoughts. Was it not worried about the virus? Did it already counteract it with something unknown?
“Y-You’re in the Land of Darkness—”
“More specifics, name landmarks!” Impossibly, the grip around his throat got tighter, barely giving him enough air to continue speaking.
“T-The Kingdom of Atlas is directly east of here!”
“Where is it in relation to Grand Metropolis?!” Grand what? He had never heard of such a place, was the thing tricking him? No, it wouldn’t have a reason to—
“ANSWER!” His free claw summoned a sphere of energy, and Watts answered truthfully out of fear.
“I don’t know! I’ve never Heard of Grand Metropolis!” For a moment, that seemed to actually stall the machine before it let the ball of energy dissipate in its palm.
Before Watts could relax, however, he felt the rush of wind…
…then drifted into nothing.
Arthur Watts was a man of action, believing everything was earned through merit.
Although sometimes, his own ambition outgrew his caution, and in his greed, he becomes a hypocrite.
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When more Grimm came along for reinforcements, they found the two inner members unconscious on the ground and no sign of whatever had done this to them.
When they had awoken, they had no memory of what had happened to them nor if they managed to destroy it or not.
Deciding to err on the side of caution, Salem decided to create more Grimm to reinforce the area in case the creature decided to return…
…unaware that somewhere, in the cold region of Atlas, a clone of the wind underestimated the virus in its system, and only stopped it short of its total system crash, and deactivated in the cold snow.