Chapter Text
The air was heavy with moisture that froze into tiny ice crystals around her, as if any warmth was being pulled from the very atmosphere, mixing with the smoke from the smoldering ruins of Beacon. Blake paused on the roof and peered to her left. Though the dense fog and smoke stung her eyes, she could make out the silhouette of the Grimm dragon clutching to the remains of the top of the tower.
As if its energy were pulled out of its body like the moisture in the air turned to ice, the Grimm dragon stood frozen. What happened to this great beast? When she had returned to their retreat near the edge of Beacon, the mysterious flash from the top of the tower had terrified everyone. Was this a miracle of Professor Ozpin’s power or secret Atlas technology? If chaos reigned in Beacon during the evacuation, it tripled after the might of the Grimm dragon was frozen atop the tower. During the madness and confusion and never ending stream of Grimm, it was easy for Blake to slip away without a goodbye to her friends.
If they had known what Blake intended, they would have tried to stop her. She didn’t have time for explanations or apologies. How could she ever explain Adam’s promise to them? How it meant death to everyone she had come to hold dear over these last two semesters. Her friends were students, and they were not ready for the perils of the real world. The perils she had experienced as a young cat Faunus living on her own. The perils her friends would each face of Adam’s wrath.
Subconsciously, Blake reached down to the nagging pain on her left side, and she was almost surprised to feel the wet, sticky warmth soaking through her fingertips. In the chaos of these last few moments, she had almost forgotten the dire situation she was in.
To rescue her partner, Yang, in a dangerous encounter with Adam, she had been forced to leave Gambol Shroud behind. Adam had wounded Blake to bait Yang into an attack. With her own aura almost depleted, she was unable to fully heal the wound in her side. Like some cruel predator, he had struck the line between pain and death to hurt her. Missing her vital organs, her next greatest worry was bleeding to death. The majority of the bleeding she was able stop, but without rest, she could not fully heal the wound on her side. It may have been her imagination, but she could still feel the heat from Wilt’s blade.
With a sigh and a wince, Blake took off across the rooftops once more. She didn’t have time to stare at the remains of the school she had most recently called home. Her thoughts were consumed with her choices that lead her to this moment. Again in her life she found herself running. The first time she had run from the fear of what Adam may become. He could no longer see reason, and Blake knew her only hope to stop him from hurting innocents was to obtain the power of a huntress. Now she ran for the fear of what Adam may do to her friends, her training as a huntress incomplete. The difference this time was plain to her. She feared her friends would only see her as a coward, but Blake was resolute. He had threatened her friends to torment her, and Blake only had one choice to end it.
Adam was strong. For years, Blake had trained alongside him, barely able to keep up. All too well she knew his immeasurable strengths, and now she knew none of his weaknesses. In the past, she may have been his one weakness, but that time had passed when she said goodbye and left him on the train.
She knew she had hurt him deeply. With Adam’s power, he could have leapt the distances between the train cars and ended her life. Yet he let her go, and the betrayal was complete.
Blake knew she could never succeed in killing Adam to ensure her friends safety, but she would die trying. Instead of running away, this time she was determined to save her friends.
Making haste to carefully hustle along the rooftops, Blake finally came within sight of the dining hall. The fires that had raged during her fight with Adam were now only smoldering coals, as if the energy from the fire too was being absorbed into holding the great Grimm dragon. She nimbly leapt from the roof to land, shaken and stumbling, near the door of the dining hall.
She carefully walked through the broken door. Her fear and instincts were screaming at her to leave this place, but Blake was resolved to retrieve Gambol Shroud. Without it, she didn’t have the courage to go through with her plan. She repeated to herself that Adam was gone, the dining hall now abandoned. He would crash through Beacon with the Grimm like a tidal wave and would have already withdrawn to his next objective.
She assured herself that her weapon would lay, undisturbed, near the upturned tables. She was so determined that she could almost visualize it on the floor, soot beginning to settle on the cool metal.
The memories from the encounter were still fresh in her mind. She could recall the weight in her arms as she had drawn her weapon in defense from both Adam’s physical attacks and his taunting words, and how he had easily kicked Gambol Shroud from her grasp. As she reeled back from his blow, she could vaguely place where it must have landed, and she began her search there.
Under tables and broken chairs, she couldn’t find her weapon. She leaned low, to better see the floor, and she could feel her sticky blood on her clothes, now cold and clammy, press close against her skin. Still she could not find her weapon. It has to be here, she shrieked in her head! Never had she been separated from the security of Gambol Shroud.
She glanced left and right, looking for a glint of light off the blade, but all she could see was broken glass and broken furniture. She dropped to her hands and knees, ignoring the pain of small cuts from the glass on her hands and knees, desperation stealing her senses when she heard the crunch of glass under footsteps.
Blake froze, irrational fear consuming her once more. Her next meeting with Adam wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
“You’ve returned to me, my love.”