Egrer had been to Vale's industrial district before. And, ironically enough, it was back during Torchwick's patronage.
It was a filthy place, suffocating not so much from the heavy air, but from the joyless atmosphere. Smelly fog was a frequent occurrence here, especially near the canals where all sorts of crap was dumped. And that, in turn, flowed into the sea. Luckily, Egrer was wearing Magenta's gas mask, so he didn't have to worry about any foul stenches. And especially the cat smell.
A lot of the factories were abandoned, warehouses stood empty, and beggars prowled the streets even at this late hour. A perfect place for the White Fang to run their operations without worrying too much about the cops. They simply didn't stick their noses in here.
Egrer didn't know shit about economics, so he didn't understand why they couldn't just start up the forgotten machinery and bring this place back to life. Why not give these poor bastards at least some kind of job? Blake, however, had the answers to those questions.
"We're just another commodity that businesses have to pay for. And they want to cut any expenses. The more unemployed there are, the more they can slash wages, because people are ready to practically fight each other for a workplace. They'll agree to pennies, just as long as it's enough for food."
It was unlikely she'd been in that situation personally, but her former friends from the White Fang definitely had. So she clearly knew what she was talking about.
Neither Egrer nor Sun, walking beside him, dared to continue the topic. In general, you had to be very careful with Blake. Hit a nerve on a subject that agitated her, and any careless word could be seen as an attack on her ideals and principles. In moments like that, it was better to just keep your mouth shut and lay low; she'd calm down on her own eventually.
Recently, Egrer had unknowingly touched on this topic and swore off talking to Blake about the White Fang altogether. Her fanatical denial of even the possibility that the terrorists' brave struggle was no longer driven by high ideals, but by banal greed, was sometimes downright scary. She always claimed that the White Fang members were simply tricked, that they got confused and went down the wrong path. But she knew perfectly well herself that she was wrong somewhere. Otherwise, she wouldn't be trying so frantically to figure out why her former bosses had allied with a criminal and a human.
And how could such idealism combine with her natural pessimism? Or was it all because of an excuse syndrome? The latter was somehow easier to believe...
According to Blake, the leader of the White Fang branch in Vale would never have agreed to this alliance. Proud, self-assured, and strong, he'd sooner die than disgrace their cause like that. Which meant The Puppeteer managed to break not only Torchwick, but him too. Her power and capabilities grew scarier with every new puzzle piece that fit into this very unpleasant picture...
Blake immediately laughed off the theory that Adam Taurus, the leader of the local White Fang, was simply intimidated. Bribery went down the drain right after, leaving them with nothing but baseless guesses and assumptions. Why Taurus was working for The Puppeteer remained a secret, but at tonight's White Fang rally, there would be a chance to lift that veil of secrecy just a little.
But no matter how you sliced it, one thing was for sure—he didn't like his position as a subordinate. At least, that's what their resident White Fang expert claimed.
"This way," Blake said, jerking her head.
They slipped into a narrow gap in the wall and trudged through an unfinished building. The floor wasn't fully laid, which meant they had to watch their step carefully so they wouldn't fall into a pit. From above, through the steel grid frame, the shattered moon shone down on them.
Egrer never understood why so much empty space was just sitting around uselessly. Why not build an apartment complex here? There was a constant flow of refugees coming into the kingdoms from destroyed settlements outside the walls, so extra apartments would never go to waste. But this time, he didn't ask the question out loud, just to avoid provoking Blake.
She led them down a path only she knew, to a place only she knew, effortlessly stepping over fallen barrels, turning through tangled alleys without hesitation, and telling them where they could relax and where they needed to hide their Faunus heritage. After all, it wasn't just Faunus who suffered from unemployment and low wages.
Embittered racist humans, stripped of the ability to pay for their homes, banded together and were more than happy to run into a stray Faunus in a dark alley.
A feeling of utter hopelessness washed over Egrer completely. He used to feel the exact same way while living in the Mistral favela, and he really didn't like reminiscing about his childhood. For the first time in a very long while, he started pulling up something unpleasant from his memory, something he had zero desire to get nostalgic about. Already forgotten memories, shoved into the back of his mind, slowly started creeping back.
Passing by another abandoned building, Egrer saw his orphanage school in it. He saw the windows smashed by hooligans, letting in a constant draft that forced them to bundle up in their clothes. He saw overflowing trash cans, the garbage from which was never collected and never would be.
Picking his way across a wasteland, he remembered how the older kids used to constantly set up fights in similar places. And while there was nowhere for a wasteland to come from in the former mining tunnels of Mistral, there had been a large excavated quarry that was perfect for hiding from prying eyes.
But as if to counterbalance these grim memories, something good also emerged from the depths of his mind.
The image of a priest with a funny name appeared in his head—a name Egrer couldn't quite recall, though. He only remembered that the man was caring, generous with a strong curse word, and that his main sin was taking the names of the Twin Gods in vain. A sin Egrer himself was guilty of now, having picked up bad habits from him.
Amidst all this melancholy, the cheerful Sun stuck out like a sore thumb. You almost wanted to shove him away somewhere so his mere presence wouldn't ruin the scenery of hundreds of ruined lives, devastation, and poverty. He was carrying a bag from some fast-food joint and eating a burger on the go. A couple more were resting in his pockets.
Everything around them was so depressing and the atmosphere so sad that Sun just had to crack a joke. Or rather, try to.
"You guys know what you call a women's locker room?" No one answered him; everyone was too immersed in contemplating the surrounding ruins. "The flat world!"
"Sun, shut up, please," Blake requested. "And don't talk anymore. I thought I'd never hear anything worse than Yang's puns..."
"Yang likes puns?" Egrer asked.
"Apparently, you're the rare lucky bastard who hasn't heard her pathetic humor."
"I hear her pathetic humor every day," he shot back. "But around me, she limits herself to idiotic jokes about my 'relationship' with Weiss. But honestly, I like to make puns myself, I didn't think she was the same."
Blake's surprised and horrified face deserved to be hung in Remnant's museum of the most surprised and horrified faces. She quietly whispered under her breath, "What kind of monsters am I surrounded by," and turned her head back to the road.
"Alright, take two," Sun composed himself. "Since you guys like everything so gloomy, the joke will be gloomy too. Ahem! So a little Faunus walks up to a pile of dust, and Jacques Schnee asks him, 'Looking for your parents?'"
"Sun..."
"Get it?" he waved his half-eaten burger cheerfully. "Like, it wasn't the Dust we load our weapons with, but regular dust. Like ashes. Like Schnee burned his parents."
"Sun..." Egrer was already starting to lose his patience.
"Yeah, I get it, I get it... But seriously! You guys are so gloomy I wanna hang myself already. We're going to terrorize terrorists under the leadership of a former terrorist. The irony level is just off the charts, how can anyone stay serious here? And you look like you're heading to an execution, not a spy op."
"And you look like you're out for a stroll," Blake shot back. "You could have at least dressed a little less eye-gougingly today."
Sun carefully inspected his unbuttoned white shirt, which gave a full view of his abs, and patted his jeans. He really did look pretty conspicuous; in autumn, and at night to boot, nobody would dress like that. How the hell hadn't he frozen yet in this freezing cold? It was only five degrees outside.
"Dressed same as always," he summarized.
"Yeah, like a stripper. At least button up."
"Are my godlike abs distracting you from finding the way?" Sun put his hands behind his head and puffed out his chest. Now he really did look like a stripper...
"Sun," Egrer said tiredly, "she hasn't looked back at you once this whole time. I don't think you interest her at all."
"Hey, I already have my own fan club at Beacon!"
"Not you, your abs. I saw your fangirls printing out your photos, and you know what? They cut off all the excess." Egrer snipped his fingers like scissors, and Sun involuntarily gulped.
A heavy sigh from Blake was heard ahead. She had long since despaired of maintaining even a semblance of discipline and order on the mission, but she still hadn't given up those useless attempts.
"Please, both of you, shut up. I still don't trust Junior. This could be a trap, so stay sharp."
"Nah, Junior's a lot of things, but he ain't a snitch," Egrer shook his head.
He slipped a finger under the gas mask and scratched his sweaty cheek. They had been walking these dark streets for a solid hour now, and wearing this thing was becoming increasingly unbearable. How does Magenta even wear it? Does she not need to breathe or what?
Blake sharply led the group to the side. Only out of the corner of his eye did Egrer manage to notice a few hostile-looking individuals standing ahead, kicking someone. The chuckles and quiet groans of pain soon stopped reaching them.
"What a shitshow going on here," Sun sighed. "Feels like I'm back in Vacuo, thugs and punks everywhere you look."
"I thought you came to us from Mistral," Egrer noted. "You're gonna be representing Haven at the tournament, right."
"I was born and raised in Vacuo, yeah, but as soon as I got the chance, I bailed. The atmosphere there is..." Sun pondered, staring at the mold on the nearest wall, "stifling. You got gang clans in power, gang clans in the outskirts, gang clans roaming the alleys. Let your guard down for a sec, and you'll be chopped up for organs or sold off to some savage cannibals in the desert."
"Seriously?" Egrer asked in shock. "I got a friend from Vacuo who also didn't have much good to say about his homeland, but when he starts going off about honor and nobility, he just won't shut up."
"Well... the 'code' in Vacuo is a joke, to be honest. If you wanna show off to your bros about how noble you are, you do it. If you don't—no one's gonna say a word to you. Your friend's probably from the upper crust."
"I didn't really get the political situation there from what he said, but I think his family got screwed over, and he's kinda in exile. A sort of disgraced prince. If I understood him right..."
"In Vacuo, you really can't figure out the politics without a crystal ball, especially foreigners. In Mistral, it's different, somehow more humane. Though there's plenty of fucked up shit there too. Crime is crime everywhere."
"True that," Egrer nodded in agreement, remembering his childhood in the favela. Although, could that period even be called a proper childhood? He had to grow up practically from the cradle.
Realizing that he'd accidentally started talking about gloomy stuff, Sun smiled foolishly and shoved the rest of his burger into his mouth.
"And to stop this kind of injustice from happening, we all need to unite and form a union! Am I right, huh?" he playfully punched Egrer in the shoulder.
But before the General Secretary could answer that there was a huge difference between a real labor union and their student amateur club, Blake started talking.
"It's pointless." She didn't realize it was a joke. Just as gloomy as this place, Blake blended perfectly with the surroundings. "Unions won't change the system as long as they're part of it; at best, they'll get a couple of handouts. It's just a minor concession to make the workers feel protected, even though in reality, they aren't. The rich are the masters of this world, and we can't win a game where the opponents can change the rules at any moment."
"You're such a pessimist, Blakey."
"Just a realist. And the reality is that big business controls about ninety percent of everything. Mines, factories, shops, restaurants, railways, ports, transport. And they want more, which is why they're crushing the Faunus. A second Faunus Rights Revolution is just around the corner..."
"Look, enough with the doom and gloom," Sun pleaded. "It's seriously scary talking to you sometimes. At this rate, I'm gonna go tie a noose soon."
Blake rolled her eyes.
"It's exactly because of bystanders like you, who don't want to face the truth, that our race is in this position. Because it's easier to pretend nothing's happening and just stuff your face with another burger."
"And what's wrong with enjoying the fruits of capitalism?" Sun retorted. "What was it that good ol' Carlos Max used to say? 'The capitalists will sell us the rope with which we will hang them'?"
"Levin said that," Blake corrected.
"You really know your stuff."
"Because in the past, political literacy was valued in the White Fang, not bloodlust. Though," Blake sighed, "it was precisely our knowledge of politics that told us peaceful struggle was doomed to fail from the start. And look what it's all come to..."
Suddenly, she stopped in front of the entrance to an unremarkable alleyway. Her cat ears twitched distinctly under her bow, as if listening closely.
"Here. Put your masks on."
"You sure this is gonna work?" Egrer mumbled nasally into his gas mask. "I mean, we're just gonna put on these stupid masks, walk past the guards, and... that's it? Mission accomplished?"
"Yes."
"Sounds a bit too easy... Maybe we should workshop our plan a little?"
"No time," Blake replied, stepping into the alley. She clearly had no desire to waste time on pointless arguments.
"Sun, let's stop her before it's too late."
"It's gonna be fine, don't sweat it." He waved it off casually and stepped after their unspoken leader. He somehow shoved the bag with the rest of the burger into his jeans pocket, and then pulled on a White Fang mask. Where Blake had gotten them, they preferred not to ask.
Egrer had to follow, otherwise he'd just be left standing there like an idiot for the rest of the operation.
"Nothing is gonna be fine with a plan like this!"
"And what do you suggest?"
"For starters—proper recon. Someone needs to sneak inside, then contact us and tell us about the layout of the place and the number of guards. But to sneak in, we need a plan of its own. For example, you make a ruckus by the dumpsters, the guards get distracted, and Blake slips inside unnoticed."
"Why bust our asses when we literally have a ticket?" Sun tapped his mask.
"Because there's no way our current plan is gonna work."
Egrer had to shut up, since they'd gotten too close to the guards. He quickly pulled off the gas mask, put on a medical mask, and only then strapped the White Fang mask onto his face.
Blake untied her bow, and Sun flicked his tail. The thugs nodded and turned their heads toward Egrer. However, they didn't say a word and just let them pass inside. Apparently, it was enough for them that he had arrived with confirmed Faunus. After all, a human couldn't possibly take his Faunus friends and sneak into a White Fang meeting, right?
"How could a plan like this even work?" Egrer grumbled as they walked unhindered into the corridor of a huge building that had once been a warehouse. "We literally didn't do anything. Just walked right past those idiots. Achoo! Blake, step back a little, the mask ain't as effective as the gas mask."
"And you really want to make our lives harder, I see," she replied.
They walked deeper into the building, passing through several layers of coarse, rough fabric with a crossed-out wolf's head painted on it.
"Wow..." Sun uttered, looking at the hall packed with Faunus. "There's so many of them..."
What caught the eye was that there were mostly Faunus with prominent traits here. Eyes, ears, tails, horns, gills, special skin pigmentation, like cheetah spots. Nobody here had a hidden trait, like the one Egrer had. Because for those types, it was much easier to pretend to be human and blend into society.
And all these Faunus were here because, basically, they had no choice. Either slave away for the rest of your days, or fight. There used to be a third path, but it vanished when the White Fang rejected peaceful protests due to a lack of results.
You can go to rallies or organize strikes all you want, but it won't lead to anything. Only by taking up arms were the Faunus able to win back at least some of the rights they'd gained after the revolution. But now, this struggle had turned into something wrong...
The crowd looked expectantly at the stage, where a tall, muscular White Fang member paced back and forth. His mask looked more complex, and the eyes were painted an ominous red, making it feel like a Grimm was actually looking at you. It was as if he was waiting for the hall to fill up completely, leaving absolutely no empty space. And when it did, he spoke up:
"Thank you to everyone who came here, brothers, sisters. You made the right choice by deciding to take the path of struggle. But for those joining us for the first time, allow me to first introduce our..." his previously welcoming voice trembled, as if from restrained anger, "very special comrade. I assure you, he is the key to obtaining what we have been fighting for so long."
"Hello, hello!" Roman walked out onto the stage. In his invariable white jacket, bowler hat, and flare-gun cane. A disgruntled murmur rippled through the hall.
"What is a criminal doing here?"
"A human? Here?!"
"Good questions, glad you asked." Roman smirked, then began speaking with dramatic pauses. "So, first of all, I'll admit... that humans... are evil... Greedy freaks who care about nothing but profit. Or charming handsome men who also live purely on greed... me, for example." He tipped his hat to the honorable audience. "So it's clear to me why you hate the entire human race so much. We're alike in that; I hate it too."
"Is he gonna say anything useful?" Sun asked.
"He is," Egrer replied. "Look at the crowd. At first, they were ready to kick him out of here, but now they're listening. Now he's gonna direct their discontent at whoever he needs to."
"You can despise and insult me, I've completely earned it," Roman waved his hand dismissively, "but we all know there's someone who deserves a lot more hatred than me. So save your animal fury and strength for your employers..."
"Uh-oh..." Egrer exhaled, noticing a familiar silhouette off to the side. The silhouette of his adoptive mother.
She was standing behind the stage, her back pressed against the wall, examining her gloves with boredom. Neo was half in the shadows, and if it weren't for the gilded buttons on her white boots, he wouldn't have even noticed her. Though, her hair was also quite noticeable against the gray wall; one half of it was a soft pink color, and the other brown.
Next to her stood a lacy summer parasol with a hidden blade, which she could use to gut a particularly zealous Faunus at any moment. She definitely had enough reaction time and speed to run all the way to the other end of the hall in just a couple of seconds.
But the scariest part wasn't that Neo was here, but that she wasn't hiding at all. Does the White Fang already know about her? Or is Torchwick intentionally keeping her as close as possible because he's expecting betrayal at any moment? Or maybe she's just here as a threat to the Fang members? Like, "If you argue with me or get in my way, you'll be dealing with her."
The list of questions only grew longer.
And even if Neo wouldn't scare an enemy at all with her short stature and pretty face, her wide sadistic smirk and combat skills totally would. Egrer could only hope that she wouldn't beat him too badly if they were suddenly spotted. At least, not to death.
When he turned his attention back to Roman, the man was already finishing his speech.
"...Politicians, businessmen, all that scum at the top who built themselves up on your back-breaking labor! They are the ones to blame for your poverty; they are the ones sitting on their golden toilets, spitting in your faces. Our common enemy is the governments, businesses, the military... Even the schools! Since early childhood, they've hammered the idea into your heads that you have to be good little boys and girls and just put up with all this outrage."
Roman was really getting into it; he always got an incredible kick out of speaking in public. Egrer had seen this facial expression and hand gestures before, caught those familiar notes in his voice. The actions of an experienced manipulator who treated his craft—hoodwinking gullible listeners—with great reverence and adoration.
Egrer felt sick realizing just how much Torchwick's manipulative speech resembled his own speeches in front of the union.
"Don't look at the fact that I'm a human, our goals are the same. Yes, yes, no need to get so outraged!" Roman smirked at the hubbub that flared up with renewed vigor. All these Faunus didn't want to acknowledge having anything in common with a criminal, because they were driven to this place by need or sincere belief in their convictions. "And our goal is to exterminate all those lice that have burrowed deep into your fur and have been sucking your blood for decades. Fortunately, the pest control is already here... no offense to the insects present, you guys are just cuties."
Roman winked at the crowd of Faunus and theatrically snapped his fingers.
The tarp behind him dropped down, revealing the death machine hidden until now. The massive robot reached almost to the ceiling in height, and its width took up about a third of the entire stage. Before this, it hadn't even been clear that something was standing there, that's how huge it was. And it could get even bigger, since right now it looked like it was crouching, waiting for an order.
Two massive cannons rested on the ground, and each was about the girth of a small tree. Some barrels could also be seen behind its back, serrated blades stuck out from its forearms, and a pair of small machine guns were located next to the bulky pilot's cabin. And, of course, the terrorists couldn't help but decorate the robot with their symbol—the crossed-out wolf's head.
This power was overwhelming just by the look of it. If the White Fang had weapons like this, how many people would become victims of their "Holy Struggle"?
"That is one massive robot," Sun whispered in awe.
"That much is obvious," Blake replied. "But where did they get it?"
Roman hurried to explain everything, as if he sensed this question being asked in the head of everyone present.
"Some of you might have heard on the news that this," he knocked on the robot's knee, since he simply couldn't reach any higher, "is Atlas's newest development, defense against all kinds of terrors. The Paladin. And thanks to my 'Employer,' I managed to snag a couple of these before they even hit the market."
The Puppeteer, flashed through the minds of the infiltration squad. Her capabilities were becoming more and more astounding.
"If any of you live on the streets without internet—and I reckon there's quite a few of you—then I'll tell you what this baby is capable of." Torchwick began waving his cane around like a pointer, poking at different parts of the robot. "These cannons for arms will easily tear through a Death Stalker's armor or a steel wall, and the machine guns will destroy everything else. The blades in the forearms are made using Ice Dust, so if your enemies survive, it'll only be as popsicles. The flamethrower will help you thaw them out if you still have something to say... and then just crush them with this massive foot! The possibilities are endless, my friends, but I haven't even told you about all of them!"
"Twin Gods, Atlas is just full of maniacs," Egrer shook his head. "Why so many guns? A smaller arsenal is plenty for the Grimm."
"This weapon isn't for the Grimm," Blake replied grimly. "It's against the other kingdoms. I refuse to believe these machines will be used exactly how they said on the news."
"Are they, like, prepping for a second revolution?" Sun asked, recalling her words.
"Maybe."
"You!" Torchwick suddenly shouted, and Egrer jumped in surprise. Luckily, Roman just pointed vaguely into the crowd, continuing his performance. "Maybe you're the chosen one who will become the pilot of this beauty! Many of your brothers and sisters have already moved to the new headquarters in the southeast, to prep for a very interesting op. Wanna stay in the city? Fine, suit yourself. But if you're truly ready to fight for your convictions... then I'll gladly arm you. Any questions?"
There were no questions. Realizing that Torchwick had finished his speech, the crowd began chanting White Fang slogans and whistling joyfully.
What pushes them to this? Why do they, knowing perfectly well that the White Fang is tied to crime and Torchwick, act like they don't even care? Apparently, they really do have no other choice but to grab onto the last lifeline. They don't give a shit. If the White Fang provides shelter and food, and life gains meaning, then what the Grimm does it matter? Before this, they worked themselves to the bone for pennies, and now everyone can participate in something bigger and greater. Especially with weapons like this.
"All recruits, please come to me!" the tall Fang member from the beginning took the floor. "Your Aura will be unlocked and you'll be issued your gear!"
The hyped-up Faunus rushed toward the recruiters, pushing the infiltration squad along with them.
"We've heard everything," Blake said, carefully making her way backward. "Time to get outta here."
Sun and Egrer nodded in agreement and also started to leave. But their trio stood out sharply against the backdrop of general jubilation, so Sun decided to blend in with the crowd.
"Yee-eah! Awesome! White Fang, woo-hoo!" He didn't care at all that he was walking in the opposite direction from the recruiter while shouting this.
"He spotted us," Egrer whispered in panic, feeling the angry glare of his former adoptive father on him. He turned around and almost fainted. Torchwick really was looking straight at him, crushing his cigar in his hand. "Roman spotted us! I told you it'd all go to shit, I told you we needed another plan..."
"Improvisation is our plan," Blake replied, suddenly shooting at the electrical panel. The lights went out, and although it wasn't a problem for the Faunus, Torchwick was blinded.
"Get those three, you idiots! They know!"
The movement and shoving began. The fresh recruits didn't understand who he was talking about, and the armed Fang members pushing through them scared them quite a bit. Egrer simply jumped onto someone's head and bounded right across the crowns of the deceived Faunus.
Sun and Blake didn't lag behind, and within a couple of seconds, they jumped out the window.
"What's next? Improvising?" Sun asked.
Strange sounds started coming from the warehouse, sending shivers down their spines. The movement of either mechanical pistons or some kind of hydraulics.
"Run!" yelled Egrer, whose intuition was screaming about danger.
The wall of the building seemed to explode from the inside. Bricks flew dozens of meters, and the dust cloud spread even further. And right out of that cloud leaped the massive combat robot, bristling with all sorts of weaponry.
"Blake?" Sun asked again.
"You heard Egrer..." she replied, realizing the situation they were in. "Run! Stick together!"
The Paladin stopped abruptly and skidded across the asphalt, crushing it to dust and gathering piles near its feet. Two deep furrows were left behind it, each the size of a car. The thick hull of the Atlesian robot began to turn one hundred and eighty degrees, spinning up its machine guns.
The sight of the battle-ready robot was terrifying. But the punishment that would rain down on Egrer's head if Torchwick actually caught him would be far more terrifying. The time had come for the final exam of his escape skills. And two others were taking the test with him.
Sun grabbed a lamppost with his tail and used it to launch himself onto a roof. Blake vanished into thin air and appeared next to him. But Egrer missed the moment and just bolted down the street, but faster than he had ever run before. About a quarter of the speed of Ruby's Semblance.
The Paladin ran faster.
"This is against the rules!" Egrer yelled, dodging machine gun fire. "A big robot is supposed to be slow! Slow!"
They ran down the empty night street, leaving behind a trail of torn-up asphalt and honking cars whose anti-theft systems were triggered by the noise and shaking.
Suddenly, some pops and the approaching roar of flames were heard from behind. Missiles were launched.
Egrer darted into an alleyway, giving zero fucks about Blake's order to stick together. He didn't brake and hit the wall painfully, leaving a small dent in it, and then tripped over a fallen trash can on top of that. Something exploded behind him, and a wave of heat hit his back. Stone debris covered him from head to toe, but Egrer had already popped out onto another street.
He wasn't just running blindly; he had a plan.
The stomping of the massive robot soon started approaching again, this time firing from the huge cannons on its arms. Metal slugs pierced right through the cars parked on the side of the road, and tore up the ground in a flash of small explosions, but never managed to hit Egrer. He kept dodging out of the bullets' trajectory just in time—if such a huge caliber could still be considered bullets and not tank shells.
At the next turn, the Paladin suddenly skidded and crashed into a gas station, causing the Lightning Dust stored inside to explode. A pillar of smoke and fire rose high into the sky, and pieces of scrap metal were scattered across the area.
But before Egrer could catch his breath and marvel that the problem had been solved so unexpectedly and stupidly, the robot leaped out of the ruins. Safe and sound, only the paint of the drawn wolf's head was slightly charred by the heat. The cannons on its arms folded up and retracted somewhere behind its back, replaced by massive saw-swords.
Saw-swords, fuck those Atlesians!
If this were a dream, Egrer wouldn't even be surprised. But this was reality, and he allowed himself the impermissible—freezing in surprise for a fraction of a second. That was enough time for the robot to run closer and swing its arm.
"You really wanna kill me?!" Egrer yelled indignantly, jumping aside. He was sure Torchwick could hear him right now thanks to some Atlesian gadget. "I get that we had a falling out, but let's not resort to extremes! We're on the same side, I wanna help you!"
With a horizontal strike, the Paladin effortlessly sawed through a truck parked on the shoulder, leaving an elongated gash in the wall behind it. This eloquent response reminded Egrer that once Roman lost control, reasoning with him was pointless. He needed to hide somewhere, preferably behind his mom's back.
Right, so where's Mom? flashed through his head. I mean, if Roman's here, then she's...
Egrer didn't have time to finish that thought, as he had to abruptly think about more pressing matters—an angry Torchwick piloting a giant robot.
The Paladin suddenly jumped, and when it landed, it caused a literal earthquake. A shockwave rippled through the area, knocking Egrer off his feet and turning the surroundings upside down. Lampposts fell over, a nearby house leaned toward them, and a geyser of water erupted from the ground. Looks like the sewer main burst.
The ringing in his ears didn't stop him in the slightest from rolling away from a massive metal foot. And lying right under the Paladin's belly, Egrer decided to pull a dirty trick.
Hydraulic pistons were visible in the inner bend of the robot's knee, and if he pierced them, Roman wouldn't be able to run so fast anymore. Egrer coated the folded Needle-Pierce with a layer of light-cream Aura and jammed it into the armor joint. A moment later, he pressed the button, and two meter-long needles punched clean through the Paladin's thigh and shin, forcing it to drop onto its left leg.
While there was still time, he had to run, but he'd have to leave the weapon behind. It could still stall the robot for a couple of seconds.
Egrer tucked his legs to his chest and sharply straightened up, pushing off the ground with his hands. Back on his own two feet, he booked it into a narrow alley.
Behind him, mechanisms and servos whirred. Machine grease and some kind of blue goo leaked from the robot's fresh wounds, but it managed to straighten up. Needle-Pierce trembled from the strain. First the needles bent, then the handle frame cracked. The strained screech of the resisting metal, from which the last remnants of Aura were rapidly evaporating, sounded like a cry of pain.
Involuntarily, tears welled up in Egrer's eyes. He had no truer friend than his weapon; they had survived so many stories together. And even having accepted the loss in advance, it still hurt too much.
When the Paladin took its first step forward, Needle-Pierce shattered to pieces.
***
"He's only going after Eg," Sun stated the obvious. "Torchwick doesn't give a crap about us at all."
"I noticed," Blake grumbled.
Even when she took a risk and jumped right under the Paladin's feet to wrap them in her weapon's ribbon, it simply continued the pursuit. Which is why it clumsily crashed into the gas station.
But Torchwick paid it no mind, got up, and kept running. As if no other irritants could compare to Egrer in their irritating nature. She could only guess what caused such blind rage.
"What are we gonna do?" Sun asked, watching the robot try to pick up speed, limping comically on one leg.
"It needs to be destroyed. We can't let a weapon like this stay in the hands of the White Fang."
Running wasn't an option, plus the robot simply couldn't get tired, and its battery would clearly last more than one hour of active combat and chase. So, they had to take the fight and somehow manage to defeat a hundred-ton death machine originating from the most militarized state in the world.
With the strength of just three teenagers...
Though, considering Egrer's habit of avoiding conflict and hiding, more like two and a half. Maybe he'd manage to talk Torchwick's ear off again, but it's unlikely one trick would work twice.
"Destroy it?" Sun asked in disbelief. "A-a-awesome... Just super. How exactly do you suggest we wreck this thing?"
"We'll figure it out on the fly. Let's go!"
With that battle cry, Blake vanished into thin air and appeared on the roof of the nearest building. Sun sighed deeply and jumped after her.
The robot no longer showed its former agility, and Egrer had grown completely bold, showering it with insults and doing everything he could to annoy the pilot sitting inside. From above, it was easy to see that he was leading Torchwick to a specific place. Because if he were just running away, he could have chosen a much more winding path where the Paladin's bulky frame wouldn't be able to squeeze through.
Dashing across the building rooftops, Sun and Blake pursued them but didn't risk interfering. If Egrer had an idea on how to deal with Torchwick, let him execute it; any rash actions on their part could ruin everything. They would only provide backup if things definitely went south.
The strip of buildings ended, and Egrer ran onto a bridge leading to the other side of the canal. But the Paladin, instead of running after him, stopped. He had seen through the trick.
The robot spread its legs wide, adopting a more stable firing stance, and swapped the saw-swords for its massive cannons.
"Looks like his plan failed," Sun noted.
"Are you gonna say anything useful today?" Without waiting for an answer, Blake threw her blade, hooking it onto the bridge's cables. Tugging on the ribbon left in her hands, she huffed in satisfaction. "Wait for the moment!"
"What moment?"
"You'll know!" And with those words, she jumped down.
Meanwhile, Egrer kept his cool. Everything was going exactly as he had planned—Torchwick saw through the surface-level decoy, but he had no idea this trap had a false bottom. Very soon, his overconfidence would play a cruel joke on him, because in literally...
His thoughts were interrupted by Blake's sudden appearance. She flew past him swiftly, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck in the process. Before Egrer could even blink, he found himself a dozen meters off the ground, a lump reflexively rising in his throat.
"No! Why did you get in my way!? Achoo!"
"Get in your way? I just saved you!"
"I had everything under control! Roman was supposed to think he figured me out, and that's exactly what happened! Achoo! It was reverse-reverse psychology!"
Blake landed them behind the Paladin, then gave the ribbon a yank, and her blade flew right into a bewildered Egrer's hands. He was about to return it to its owner when she yelled:
"Do it like the Death Stalker at initiation!" and then she sprinted at the robot, which was still turning toward them. She was still clutching the end of the ribbon in her hand.
The idea seemed sound (especially since there weren't really any alternatives), so Egrer bolted after her, feeling the tingling cold of the metal hilt in his palm. It felt almost as if the weapon was rejecting another Huntsman.
Torchwick didn't even have time to turn around before his legs were wrapped up multiple times. The Paladin tried to take a step and break the bonds, but Blake reinforced her weapon with Aura just in time, pulling the robot's limbs back together.
"Check this out!" Sun yelled, cupping his hands. A second later, two glowing copies of him appeared next to him, taking a running leap onto the Paladin's back and knocking it to the ground. And thanks to a final kick to the steel carcass, the robot tumbled into the canal, sinking into the foul-smelling water.
Did we win? Egrer thought doubtfully, looking at the expanding ripples. Was it really that easy?
"So, you just watched and waited for this giant battle-robot to drown in shit?" Roman's voice suddenly rang out. The infiltration squad whipped around toward the sound, fully ready for combat. "Good job! Keep it up. One less problem."
Neo, whom Torchwick was currently talking to, nodded happily. Noticing their stares, she busily adjusted her little white jacket and offered a theatrical bow, never once dropping her smile. Her eyes seemed to be laughing, shifting color from brown to pink and back again with every blink.
And this whole time, she was looking only at Egrer, which was seriously unnerving. And what was especially unnerving was her parasol, which Neo was twirling in her hands.
Noting his anxious look, she smiled even wider and gave a welcoming little wave. Egrer bewilderedly returned the gesture.
Who knew how Mom would react to their first meeting after so many years. Maybe right now she was barely holding back from throwing herself at him with hugs, or maybe she wanted to try and kill him to test what he'd learned at Beacon.
The odds were about fifty-fifty.
"Your contribution to this little play was invaluable, thank you." Roman tipped his hat with a sly smile.
"What?" Egrer asked in bewilderment.
"If that tin can just went MIA, it would raise questions. But this way, we fell victim to Ozpin's cunning move. We'll tweak the security camera footage, and voila—instead of three Huntsman larvae, we were attacked by a highly trained squad."[1]
So that was it. Everything hadn't gone according to Egrer's plan, but Torchwick's. Obviously, because otherwise it would have failed, as it usually does. It did fail, actually...
"But I'm still gonna break your legs," Roman continued, cracking his knuckles. "Not metaphorically. I promised, remember? Bad little kids need to be punished so they don't stick forks in power outlets."
The infiltration squad raised their weapons and prepared for a fight. Except Neo lightly whacked Torchwick on the head with her folded parasol.
"Fine, have it your way, a scumbag like me is allowed to break promises. This time the little brats really earned a break." He shrugged. "But! Even though physical violence against children is evil, psychological violence is exactly what the doctor ordered!"
"We didn't even do anything!" Egrer already realized what Roman was up to. "We just came, listened, and left. Almost left..."
"O-o-oh, well that changes everything! You just dragged yourselves all the way out here out of pure curiosity, not to mess up my plans later. And you absolutely definitely wouldn't tell Ozpin about the Paladin!"
Actually, good idea. We should definitely tell Ozpin about the Paladin.
Torchwick looked at Blake and Sun and smirked. To be honest, Egrer was no longer worried that those two might find out about his connection to Roman. He had already proven through action several times that he no longer had anything to do with him and that he could be trusted despite such a shady past.
Besides, Blake, who was running from her own past, would perfectly understand him.
"If my lessons weren't wasted on you," a smiling Torchwick began, "then this was the last time we ever meet."
Neo grabbed Roman by the sleeve, and a second later, they both shattered into shards of green glass. With a subtle hint like that, he completely blew Egrer's cover without saying a single extra word.
"Lessons?" Blake asked, making sure there were no enemies around. "What does that mean?"
"Math, literature, social studies," Egrer tried to joke his way out of it. She didn't appreciate the humor, continuing to stare him in the eyes with that same scowling look. A heavy sigh escaped his chest on its own. As well as a sudden sneeze.
Apparently, he was gonna have to tell them after all. They still had a long way to work together, so unnecessary distrust was clearly unneeded. But first things first, he pulled his gas mask back over his face to buy a little time to think up an answer.
"I think I should start with some backstory, 'cause the situation is a bit complicated~"
"And I think you're just stalling."
"I'm Roman Torchwick's adopted son."
Blake's reaction was almost the same as Weiss's—she froze in place, trying to process this information. Sun, on the other hand, smiled broadly and let out a surprised whistle.
"Ho-ly shit... For real?"
"Well, not exactly. Unofficially. Not even unofficially. It was just a prank by Mom that got out of hand. Y'know, the short, heterochromic, multi-colored-hair one."
"Ah, so the one with the parasol is your mom?" A nod was his answer. "Damn, never would've guessed. Wait, she's like, around your age, ain't she? You okay with calling her Mom?"
Well, Egrer definitely didn't expect a question like that. Usually, when someone finds out about someone's criminal past, they ask something more mundane, like "Have you killed anyone?" but definitely not this! He himself involuntarily thought about it, trying to produce something more coherent than a simple mumble. However, Blake beat him to it.
"Let's start with the backstory."
They headed to the airport, and on the way, Egrer told them almost the exact same thing he had told Weiss, just shifting the emphasis a bit. This time he didn't stumble over his words or get particularly nervous; practice made perfect. So his story was actually comprehensible.
Sun constantly chimed in with various questions, the surprised smile still glued to his face. And the questions were as unexpected as possible, as if he already knew everything and was just asking for the details. Blake, however, was more reserved and still hadn't said a word. Only when the former thief fell silent did she simply thank him for placing his trust in them.
"Weiss somehow reacted a lot stronger." Egrer either complained or was just surprised.
"I'm not Weiss," she grumbled. "And it's not my place to judge you. I've got enough skeletons in my own closet."
"So how do we get back to Beacon?" Sun suddenly asked when they entered the airport. "Bullheads don't fly there at this hour..."
"Do you have any money left?" Blake asked.
"Nope, spent almost all of it on burgers. You were thinking of renting a room somewhere?"
Blake didn't answer; she simply laid down on the nearest bench. And when an employee was about to say something to her, she shoved her student ID in his face without looking. Beacon students obviously spent the night here often, considering they were left alone so quickly.
"We-e-ell... good night, then." With those words, Sun settled down on the neighboring bench.
"I hate sleeping on the streets," Egrer grumbled, making himself comfortable as far from Blake as possible. He took off the gas mask. "But, I guess we don't have a choice."
[1] "Going MIA" stands for "Missing in Action"