Life as a faunus huntsman is definitely a mixed bag, Virilian Hunt muses.

On the one hand, there's the weird fetishization in the Elemental Nations and the rampant racism in the Kingdoms. Though truth be told, he'd take some pretty ladies drooling over his dog ears over having to spend six months to find a decent caterer willing to service a faunus-human wedding any day of the week. He can still remember the time he saved a family, only for the parents to spit at him as if he were the grimm whose neck he'd just put an arrow through. That's the kind of memory that stays with you, no matter how long you serve.

On the other, there's the general heartiness faunus tend to enjoy over their human counterparts. And the night vision. That's always been a plus. The latter is why he's out here tonight, and the former is how.

There are some huntsmen who age like a grimm: old age just makes them faster, stronger and smarter. Virilian's always envied those guys. People like Ozpin, the Great and Terrible. As old as the headmaster of Beacon Academy may be, the passage of time has only made the former general that much more deadly in battle. But those guys are the exception, not the rule.

Maybe the truth of the matter is not that huntsmen like Ozpin are immune to the passage of time, as much as they just found ways to make up for it, little tricks and tips, loopholes in the rule. The loopholes Verilian never found, every passing year weighing down on him and his bow, his reactions just a tiny bit slower and his aim a little less true. Just the other day, as he was recovering from a nasty bite that had taken him out of duty for almost three weeks, Virilian had found a single strand of gray in his head of wild brown.

After that came a conversation with Scarlet. Maybe it was time to hang up the old bow. Maybe he'd done enough, and it was finally time to rest? And they'd agreed it was time. Because no matter how hard it is to acknowledge the thought that you're finally getting old, the thought of leaving your loved ones behind because you were too stubborn to give up is worse.

This is the last hurrah. Because while there are plenty of faunus all too willing to sit this night out on account of their many grievances against society, he's never been one to agree with them. Those neo-White Fang types.

That's not what this night is about. It isn't about you and yours and the skin off of your back. Mankind coming together as one. No human, no faunus. Just one, united front against the creatures of Grimm. That's what the defense is about. There are plenty who disagree with him. But he truly believes in his heart of hearts that every faunus and every human that stands together is just another brick on the road to a brighter future for all.

That's why he's out here tonight with his joints creaking and his bow the heaviest it's ever been instead of safe, down there, in one of the underground bunkers with his partner.

A brighter future. For all.

The wind roars. The black sky shrieks. Dark creatures in the shapes of giant ravens and monstrous griffons swarm all around him. Yet, he sees them with a clarity sharp as a blade, the burning red eyes a field of dancing red lights all around him.

His semblance, Vortex, creates a swirling platform of air beneath his feet. A leap carries him onto the back of a Nevermore. Three shots. Three kills. Each of the arrows finds their mark, and the points of burning crimson fades into shadows. The fourth misses, burrowing instead into the shoulder of the Griffon. A mistake he'd have never had made in his younger years.

The smoldering coals flare and shift towards him. With a screech, the Griffon beats its wings and curves an arc through the sky, barreling down towards him. A quick leap upwards carries him out of the way, the Griffon barrels into the Nevermore, and an aura-charged arrow rips through both of them.

His semblance summons another swirling current, and Verilian propels himself upwards, landing atop the back of yet another Nevermore, this one's mask colored a curious jet-black. He finds his footing. He scans his surroundings, only then noticing the boy in the pale cloak and fox mask sitting on the creature's back, just a few feet from him.

Burning crimson shifts to him.

"This seat is taken."

C. R. U. N. C. H.

…

Still clutching a blood-stained green bow, the disembodied hand falls down to the streets below.

The black-masked Nevermore continues on its flight deeper into the city.

Of Heroes and Monsters

Chapter 30: The Long Night(III)

'Fuck me-fuck me-fuck me-!'

The club falls. Yang tosses Blake up past the club and crosses her arms in a block. The giant hunk of wood slams into her guard, the impact ripples through her body and her feet sink a solid half-meter through the layer of asphalt over the street into the softer dirt below.

A shape leaps through the shadows, not towards her but towards her airborne and unconscious partner. The form of the transformed man emerges into the light, both hands clasped together above him. Yang twists out from under the club. The giant hunt of wood smashes down into the street next to her as two shells from her gauntlets propel her up, Yang intercepting the transformed man with an uppercut to the chin.

He goes tumbling back into the shadows. Yang grabs Blake with one arm, the other firing another round to propel them both up, her feet catching the wall with aura and a leap carrying her up and onto the roof of the adjacent building.

'Gotta get into the light,' Yang thinks. Then, she catches a blur of motion and burning red out the corner of her eye. She dives, just narrowly avoiding the talons of a swooping Nevermore. 'They might not be able to see in the dark either, but they aren't glowing!'

A leap carries her from the top of the building into the main street, plenty of light from the streetlamps and the Sunny's Sundays just around the corner. Rapid footsteps from behind. She turns, raising an arm and putting her body between Blake and the oncoming blow as the transformed man shoulder-checks her with his entire body. It is very much like she imagines what being hit by a truck would feel like, and she just has the awareness to adjust Blake's position as she flies through the air, hitting another car, this car crumpling like empty paper towel tube as she and it crash into and through the barricades of a store front, the giant hunk of crushed metal impacting and going part way through the opposite wall before it finally comes to a stop.

Only slightly trapped by her cushion of solid metal, Yang drops Blake and lets out a groan.

"… Definitely… gonna be… feeling that in the morning… ugh."

"Mmm…"

At last, Blake stirs. She pushes herself off the floor, rubbing her head. "… What happened?"

"Morning Blake!" Yang grunts. She sits up and braces her arms against the pieces of folded car trapping her and pushes, the metal coming apart with a high-pitched shriek. "Long story short, flute bitch knocked you out with Genjutsu and they've been double-teaming my ass while I waited for you to wake up."

"Gen…?" Blake makes a confused face for a split second before her eyes go wide, and she goes to try to help Yang up. "Shit. I'm so sorry. Thanks for covering for me."

"Thank… whiskers… mgh!" Yang straightens up with some effort and rolls her shoulder back, a few more than concerning pops coming from her spine. "If he hadn't given us those seals, we'd have been toast… fourteen, fifteen times now? I dunno. Lost count."

"I'll be sure to thank him when we get back…" Blake says, turning back to the entrance of the store as the lights flicker on, and the transformed man and the red-haired girl step into the building through its now missing wall.

"Well, well, well, look who's up?!" the red-haired girl laughs. "I gotta say sleepy, I can't remember the last time a hunter went down that hard from one of my songs. You got an extra ear on you or something?"

Blake stiffens, summoning a pistol to her right hand, her left hovering to the side. "… Genjutsu… what's a shinobi doing in Vale?"

The red-haired girl pulls her flute back out. "Wouldn't you like to know? Time to go back to sleep now."

The transformed man lifts a chunk of wall well over twice his size and hurls it at them.

Yang dives out of the way. Blake dodges with her semblance. The chunk of cement smashes into the car and through the remains of the wall as the whistle of the fluke fills the air around them, and Yang glances in a panic towards her partner as the transformed man charges them.

A shadowy dagger appears in her free hand, and Blake plunges it into her thigh. She grits her teeth and winces but doesn't fall, firing a shot at the red-haired girl. A metallic ping. The flute flies out of her hand, and Blake dodges back with her semblance again as the transformed man swipes at her. But the hole in her leg stops her from getting enough distance, and the transformed man's arm barrels through the shadowy outline like it isn't even there, slamming into Blake and hurling her across the store, a few distant aisles crashing down as they break her partner's fall.

He advances towards her. And Yang tackles him from behind, sending them both to the ground. He kicks her off easily and rolls to his feet. She leaps back on to her feet as well and rushes him. Duck under another swipe and two quick punches into his stomach. No effect. She avoids another swing, catching his jaw with a right hook. Still nothing. She weaves through the sloppy punches he throws out, peppering his side and back with punches. It's like hitting a sandbag for all the reaction he gives. She ducks under another swipe…

… and her head jerks back as she feels a tug on the back of her head.

'Oh, I swear you better nnNNN-!'

With a fistful of her hair, the transformed man swings her through the air and slams her into the ground, again, and again, and again, and-

"YOU-!"

Yang twists mid-air and lands on her feet, cracking imprints of her feet into the floor tiles.

"-FUCKING-!"

Gold and lilac purple become a golden crimson, her features twisting into a furious snarl as she grabs the arm grabbing her hair in turn, swinging around, red and yellow flames engulfing her fist and gauntlet.

"-ASSHOLE!"

Her fist meets the back of his head. Wind and flame burst. And his head meets the floor, the entire store trembling as though struck by a miniature earthquake, the lights flickering off and back on again, and a spider web of cracks spreading through the tiles all around her as the transformed man's entire upper body is made part of the floor.

Yang pants, standing over the man now part of the floor. The anger drains as golden crimson fades back to gold and a soft purple.

"Why don't you try getting up from that? Hair-pulling dick head."

The dirt moves as the head shifts to the side. Red-banded yellow glares back at her.

"Uh… just kidding?"

A few moments later, she's back in the air again, crashing down in the snack aisle next to her partner.

Picking herself up from a cushion of crushed Fritos, Yang glances at her partner. "Ow… hey… how you doing over there, Blake?"

"… Mgh…" Blake rolls over, removes a crushed pringles can from under her back and collapses back down. "… How many times has that guy hit you again…?"

"Don't remember... How many times did I say whiskers saved our ass?"

"Hn…"

"So, why'd you put that hole in your leg…?"

"Pains one way to break free of most Genjutsu…" Blake forces herself to sit up as there's a crash in front of them, and the third aisle down from them collapses. "She caught me off guard, but hopefully that flute of hers shouldn't be a problem anymore…"

"Yeah, I saw that. Nice shot."

The second aisle goes down, torn in half and pushed away like someone throwing open a curtain.

"So, you have a plan?" Blake asks, standing on a shaky leg.

"Stall and hope whisker's seal can keep me going till we get some back up."

"Hmph. I thought you were glowing a bit more than usual." Blake raises her hands, a pistol appearing in her right hand and a wide, flat blade appearing in her left. "Any timer I should be aware of?"

"… Well, I don't know about any timer on the seal, but my right hand's starting to go numb so there's that."

The last aisle tears as the transformed man walks straight through it, the metal shelves coming apart like paper. Dark yellow ringed with crimson glower at the partners. And the red-haired girl steps out from behind him, holding her flute, dented in the shape of an L.

"I was gonna make you pay for this..." She tosses the ruined flute away… then, she smirks and takes out a second flute from her cloak. "But, luckily for me, this place had a sale on these at aisle four!"

"Oh, come on." Yang groans.

Blake just glowers at the little silver tube, a faint twitch in her eye. A sigh. Then, she says under her breath, just loud enough for Yang to hear, "I think I can deal with the shinobi… can you hold off the other one if I kill the lights…?"

"Yeah. Sure. Go for it."

Blake nods.

The red-haired girl brings the flute up to her lips.

And Blake takes aim at the ceiling lights, firing a bullet that crackles with electricity at the lights above the red-haired girl and the transformed man. The glass shatters. Sparks fly. The electro-dust infused bullet blows out the power, and all the lights go dark, Yang herself and her glowing locks the only source of light left in the store.

Blake dashes off, disappearing into the shadows. The transformed man glances at the darkness with a frown.

"Tayuya."

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

The head of red hair disappears into the shadows as well. Dull yellow ringed with crimson turns to her.

"Well, that's convenient!" Yang puts on a confident grin, raising her fists. "The plan was to split you guys up, anyway. Glad we're on the same page here."

His expression doesn't change, fixed in the same blank stare and slight frown as when they first met in the alleyway, looking no worse for wear despite the countless blows she's rained down on his now-monstrous mug. He steps forwards towards her, utterly unconcerned by the departure of the red-haired girl.

"It doesn't matter." The acolyte responds in the same dull tone.

"Together or separate, you will fall all the same."

Jaune Arc always knew he was getting in way over his head.

He's never been able to live up to the legacy of his family. Too weak. Too dumb. Too slow. Too clumsy. The only reason he got into Beacon Academy to begin with was his faked transcript, after all. In reality, he would never get those grades. Never would, never could. So, he knew going to a huntsman academy, let alone Beacon of all places, would be getting in way over his head. And while he never really had anything resembling a plan so to speak, part of him really truly believed that if he skated by and kept his head down, he could pass as the person he pretended to be. That he could fake it till he made it and maybe, just maybe, one day he'd grow enough to fit the mask. To be able to stand as a hero with his father, and his father's father before him.

But that day in the forest, the unfairness of the world was made clear to him. The difference between him and Ruby and Pyrrha and Weiss and Yang and Ren and Nora, he can imagine maybe, maybe, maybe one day closing that gap. Being able to stand among them as an equal instead of just a burden. Them, he can imagine reaching one day.

Naruto?

The distance between the dirt and the stars couldn't bridge the gap between them.

Part of him is jealous. Of course, he'd be jealous! How can any world where such a difference between two individuals exists possibly be fair? That's like the difference between the main character and the comic relief. Where one is very clearly the chosen one and the other is just an afterthought.

Apprenticed to Professor Goodwitch and going out with Weiss on lunch dates every day and he doesn't care what anyone says, they're going on freaking dates. Who wouldn't want to be in that position? That's the dream! That's what he thinks. Most of the time at least.

Other times, he just curses his uselessness. He curses how he just isn't good enough when it really matters.

Like now, with Nora unconscious on his back and Ren bleeding out in his arms as he runs, desperately fleeing for his life and abandoning his partner to fight that monster alone.

Ren was the first to go down.

-Crimson eyes shift to them.

"Iiiiiiiii…"

The warped creature stares down at them, none of them moving as its shoulders hunch and its head bows and its entire body trembles as if… as if it were sobbing. The creature clutches the ragged and bloody red shirt tighter to its chest.

"Iiiii… Iiii… IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-!"

Then, it throws its head back and screeches, the sound reverberating in the enclosed space. Jaune closes his eyes, wincing as he clutches his ears.

When he opens his eyes again it's there in front of him. Death, spittle and blood dripping from its maw as the claw cleaves an arc through the air towards him.

He doesn't have the time to dodge. He doesn't have the time to think. He stands there, immobile as the creature's claw blurs through the air towards him, intent on turning him into just another corpse among many, not even a month into his enrollment at Beacon.

Then, his shield moves, all on its own. The claw crashes into the shield, scraping across its surface, the sheer force behind the blow causing his entire arm to go numb as he is hurled off his feet as though shot from a cannon, his chest sandwiched between the plates of his armor as his back slams into the wall, all of the air crushed from his lungs.

"Gah-!"

"-RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY-!"

He gasps for air. Everything is pain. All he sees are splotches of white, yellow and red. His ears are ringing. That same force that moved his shield yanks on his breastplate, throwing him out of the way as he feels a rush of movement, the shriek of metal giving way coming from the spot he was just a split second ago.

"_au_!"

"Ge_ _m _wa_ _ _er_!

Someone picks him up and they run. A heavy crash. Giant steps lunging forward, claws shrieking against the metal floor. Another impact, this one closer. And another. And another. And another. Great leaps with landings that crush the steel floor beneath them. The shrieking of the claws approaches with another leap closer, close enough for him to feel the impact in his bones, and then, after a quick pause, another leap away, the claws shrieking against the floor further away. He feels each impact in his bones, through his skull. A rapid clicking, that soon sharpens to the rattle of a submachine gun.

"_ullets aren't working?! What's going on?!"

"It's generating a magnetic field!"

Nora. Then Pyrrha. First, he hears the voices. Then, the person carrying him sets him down, and he feels a faint impact against his cheek. A slap. His vision comes back next, and he looks up to see Ren crouched over him with a panicked expression.

"Come on, Jaune, wake up. Wake up!"

"… R… en?"

His teammate lets out a sigh of relief.

"REN, BEHIND YOU!"

The crying shadow falls over the two. Ren's eyes go wide. He doesn't even have the time to look behind him, grabbing Jaune and trying to throw them both out of harm's way.

He doesn't make it.

It's only a glancing blow. The tip of the longest claw. But even that is enough, his entire body flickering with a pink static as the claw slices into the stoic boy's side.

After that, Nora.

"-REN!"

She leaps after the creature that just downed her partner, firing a grenade at it. Burning crimson shifts. The grenade gets close and immediately veers off course, exploding off to the side, but it does its job. It distracts the monster long enough for her to get close and wind up with a golf-club swing.

She lets Magnhild fly. And the hammer's face freezes inches from the creature's head.

"… Iiii…"

The creature moves, its entire body whipping with an unnatural fluidity as it slams its free hand down atop of her, crushing her into the floor.

And Pyrrha…

Ren is bleeding out on the floor next to him.

Nora is face down and not moving.

The monster is looking at him. The monster is looking at him with those burning crimson eyes. Which is good, because it means it's not looking at Nora or Ren, but it's also bad because it means it's looking at him.

"… Iiiiiiiimmmmssrrr…"

It takes a step.

And the metal floor beneath them rips apart, the piece of floor carrying him and Ren flying back along with a small bed carrying Nora as the rest of the floor rises and coils around the sobbing shadow like a carpet coming alive and trying to smother the creature even as the same invisible force that stopped Nora's hammer pushes back against the pieces of animated metal.

"IIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiii-!"

The creature raises its empty hand.

The rising shell of metal is slowly pushed back, the creature gaining ground in the invisible battle over control of floating steel.

"HA-!"

Then, the metal sheet crumples against the creature like a piece of aluminum foil, the metal all around them warping as the creature is thrown back and across the bunker.

"Get Nora and Ren out of here!" Pyrrha shouts at him. "Go get help! Go!"

"But what about you-!"

"I can't protect you and fight this thing at the same time!"

There's a pause as Jaune just stares at his partner.

They hurt.

They don't hurt as much as almost getting his chest caved in by his own armor, but the words still hurt. Because he knows she's right.

"_rrrRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-!"

The maddened shriek thunders through the bunker. Pyrrha glances in its direction and then back to her partner and leader, and he can see the regret in her viridian eyes. The pity. The desperation.

"GO!"

And he does. Gathering up Nora and Ren, the leader of Team JNPR flees through the opening in the bunker doors, leaving his partner behind to fight the creature alone. Because he knows, more than anyone, he's no hero.

Just a liability.

"Damn it… damn it… DAMN IT…!"

Silent steps. Quick movements. Yellow eyes track their target in the darkness, ready to pounce the moment she starts to play that damn flute.

"Come on ooout~." The red-haired kunoichi singsongs, utterly unconcerned by the darkness around her. The flute disappeared into her cloak as soon as they'd split up, and it yet to make a reappearance. "If you don't, I might just get bored and decide to go back and help spiky kill the glowing bitch!"

A bluff. Blake keeps quiet, getting into position. They wouldn't be going to all of this trouble to silence them if they could afford letting witnesses get away.

"You know, I gotta say, I actually feel kind of bad for glow-y back there. If she'd just ditched you and ran, she probably could've gotten away. It's hard to keep her down, that's for damn sure. But, by now, she's been tossed around so much keeping her deadweight partner safe, even grimm-for-brains back there could probably kill her."

Don't respond. Don't give her the reaction she's looking for. That's what she's doing. She's blind and just trying to get a reaction. Don't fall for it.

"And what about you?" the red-haired kunoichi asks, stepping casually deeper and deeper into the shadows as the sound of Yang and the acolyte's fistfight rages in the background.

"I'm not one of those faunus freaks. I don't have any natural night vision. If you cut and run right now, you could probably get away."

… She didn't notice it before. Or maybe she just didn't allow herself to acknowledge it before… but there's something off about the red-haired kunoichi. Something even more so than the man who looks like some sort of humanoid grimm.

Those words lodge themselves into her mind like daggers. Can they win? Can they even win? And if they can't, what's the point of both of them dying here? What would that achieve? What would they achieve by doing that?

… No. No, she can't think like that. She can't let the words get to her-. Run back to her parents. Run back to Adam. Don't die here. Run, like you always do. Run. Live. -Don't think about what could happen. Don't think. Just act. Act like they acted in the forest, with that giant monster of death barreling down on them. Act. Move. Go-

-lies in a bloody and broken heap, beautiful golden hair stained by so much blood-

This is your fault.

-the red katana cleaves through flesh and bone, crimson splattering its wielder with a blood thirsty grin-

You leave ruin everywhere you go.

"-cowards! I can't believe you two! After everything that's happened, how can you just abandon everything you stood for?! How can you just run away-?!"

Hypocrite.

Her body moves before she even realizes what's happening. The shadowed blade goes for the red-haired kunoichi's neck. Then, sparks flash in the dark as a simple combat knife blocks the swing. And this close, despite the darkness, Blake can see it clearly.

Her eyes are closed.

Her eyes are closed, and she is smirking. The red-haired kunoichi shifts to face her. "There you are."

Blake swings with the copy of the bladed sheath in her left hand. It gets dodged. She tries to shift and go for a stab. Parried. She slices and stabs and thrusts and tries to land a single blow on the red-haired kunoichi.

"Oh? Interesting, interesting…!" she chuckles, blocking and dodging, the small knife in her hand keeping both her main and offhand blades at bay. "You're doin' much better than nightlight did! But-!"

The red-haired kunoichi goes on the offense. She slips in close, blocking her main hand by the wrist mid-swing and going in for a stab. Blake dodges back with her semblance, slipping around as the knife plunges into the shadow clone's stomach and aiming a stab at the red-haired kunoichi's back.

Long red hair flutters as she whirls around, hand grabbing the length of the katana, the blade just barely drawing blood. She pulls. Blake releases the shadow construct and summons a second to her main hand, parrying a slash of the combat knife, the sparks again lighting up the shadows for a single instant.

Sparks light up the shadowed corner of the store like a dying, flickering light bulb. . She has the advantage in reach, her katana and bladed sheath against that tiny knife. She has two blades versus the one. And as far as she knows, the red-haired kunoichi is absolutely blind in the dark, her eyes even closed as she dodges and stabs and slices and weaves. Still, Blake finds herself losing ground, forced to use her semblance to avoid more than a few stabs that come too close for comfort.

She's fast. She's strong. And she's good, the kunoichi's skill with a knife is nothing special but her movements are that of someone who has spent their entire life fighting people. Humans. An assassin. A shinobi.

And as that tiny knife forces her back yet again, those traitorous thoughts creep back into Blake's mind.

Can they even win?

There's no way Yang will be able to beat this girl. Assuming equal skill, it only makes sense that the person trained to kill monsters would lose to the person trained to kill people. And that's ignoring the strange sense of unnaturalness that surrounds her.

No, it has to be Blake. It has to be her. Between the two of them, she's probably the one with more experience fighting people. Fighting humans.

But even then, can she win?

And if she can't…

'No! Don't even think about it! Focus!'

Blake slashes with the katana in her main hand. The red-haired kunoichi sidesteps the blade and catches it with her empty hand on the way down. She pulls and the knife arcs towards Blake's neck. She is forced to let go of the katana construct again and throws her head back, the tip of the dagger slicing the air inches from her throat. Blake flips back to put some distance between them, summoning a pistol to her now-free hand and firing on the red-haired kunoichi.

"I know it's common sense to keep some spares but how many of these damn things do you have?!"

The head of red hair drops the shadowed katana and darts away behind some shelves. Blake takes a moment to catch her breath, the exhaustion finally starting to creep in.

'How much aura do I have left…?'

Shadow: Empty Hand.

That's the name of the seal Naruto made for her to use in place of her weapon. In the simplest terms, it allows her to use her semblance to project a copy of her former weapon. The ammo for the pistol is replenished from her aura, and she can 'store' six copies of whatever form of her weapon she wants at a time. Right now, that would be two katanas, two bladed sheaths, a pistol, and a chain and kama. And, arguably, the most powerful and convenient aspect of the seal is in the name itself: the ability to instantly summon and dismiss the shadow constructs from her hands with only a thought.

That being said, it's not without drawbacks.

The constructs are far more brittle than her original weapon. Additionally, each cut and each stab are a drain on her aura, the energy from the light of her soul used to maintain the structure of the constructs in place of the strength and durability of simple steel.

The drain isn't much. It's so insignificant that she can't even feel it when it happens. But all of those cuts and stabs add up. And that's the big catch. The only drawback of the otherwise incredible seal.

The ability to instantly reload and summon her weapon to her hand is convenient beyond words. The creation of the constructs is so streamlined that she could probably summon twenty or thirty weapons for the cost of a single use of her semblance. The only downside is the penalty to her aura with each strike. It's more efficient for her to simply summon five or six swords to stab a grimm than to take the hit the full impact of the swing of a single sword would bring. And she probably could have gone the whole night doing just that without issue.

But now? Who knows how much aura she has left at this point.

She goes to check her scroll.

Then, the whistling of a flute fills her ears.

'This again-!'

She gets ready to cut herself, to keep the illusion from taking hold. But before she can draw her hand across the bladed sheath in her off hand, she notices something different about the song. She notices how it doesn't echo in her head or sting her ears like it did before.

Then, she notices the blind giant standing over her with a giant metal club raised back into the air.

The club falls. Blake leaps away as it crushes the floor where she was only a split second ago into rumble. There is a rush of air behind her. Instinctively she activates her semblance, ejecting herself upwards as two massive, clawed hands slam closed on the shadow clone she left behind, a second giant there leering at her from behind a blindfold.

Then, heavy footsteps, charging towards her. A third giant this one with its entire upper body bound in bandages but with spikes protruding from its head. It rears its head back and attempts to skewer her with a headbutt. Another use of her semblance puts her out of the way, and she lands on her feet as the bandaged giant barrels into and through a shelf.

'That… is not Genjutsu.'

The giants fall upon her like a pack of Beowolves.

She rolls away from a swing of the massive club. A swipe of the claw catches only her semblance duplicate. The second claw comes around. The hand half the size of her entire body takes a chunk out of the floor. The club again. A giant foot. The claw. The other claw. The club again. Blake darts back and forth between the giants as they surround her, trying to smash her into the ground.

A shadow clone is crushed beneath a giant foot, and Blake dives under its legs, summoning a kama and chain, twirling it as she leaps up onto a shelf. She whips the small scythe on the end of the chain around, releasing a bit more of the chain and letting it arc a wide circle around her, carving a chunk of flesh out of the base of one of the giant's neck.

The giant with the spiked head pitches forward. The other two charge her. She leaps away, and the club smashes the shelf into a pile of rubble. The clawed giant rushes in, and Blake throws the kama again, the chain winding around its neck. Then, it stops. The clawed giant grabs the chain and pulls, heaving her towards them, towards the other giant's club as it winds up for a swing.

She lets herself be pulled. The giant swings the club with enough force to probably shatter whatever is left of her aura. And a split second before it can make contact, she dismisses the chain, her semblance shunting her just out of the way as the club barrels into and through the clone left in her place, Blake using the momentum to carve through the club-wielding giant's neck, almost separating its head from its shoulders.

The second giant falls. Blake lands, skidding across the smashed floor. The third giant turns to her.

The song stops. The final giant disappears.

Then, the song returns again, all three giants reappearing where before there was only the one.

'She can resummon them. Wonderful.' Blake summons a katana to her main hand, lifting her weapons and trying her hardest to ignore the burning in her muscles. 'I have to get rid of that flute… now, how am I going to get past these three things…?'

A faint hum comes from behind the three giants. A familiar hum, one she can just barely hear over the song of the flute and the crashing and smashing from her partner battling the transformed man on the other side of the store.

Then, a flash of bright light.

And a glowing white and gold greatsword cleaves the club-wielding giant in two.

Next, before either of the other giants can react, a fist of blackened plate smashes a second into the ground, a visible deft in the spiked and bandaged head as it lays motionless on the floor.

The clawed giant turns to their attacker, swinging a massive arm in an attempt to maul them. But the blackened plate gauntlet is faster, seizing the giant about the throat, lifting it into the air and slamming it onto the ground, the white greatsword plunging into its chest just a moment after.

The new arrival rises. It's only then that Blake gets a good look at the form of her unexpected ally.

Its left arm is the familiar giant arm of the pure white knight, a new, golden circuit-esque pattern running across the flat of the greatsword and up the length of the entire limb to its shoulder.

Its right arm is as if someone had taken the arm of the original white knight and scorched it in flames. The plate is blackened and warped, faint embers still clinging to the edges of the ethereal metal armor. The rest of the body is almost entirely similar in appearance to the right arm, an ever-burning cloak of flowing ash wrapped about its torso, empty eyes peering at her from behind the scorched visage.

Then, from behind one of the scorched knight's legs, a familiar face steps into view along with a rapier blade glowing like a shard of starlight.

"Blake?"

"Weiss…" Blake lets out a sigh, almost collapsing then and there. She never thought the day would come when she'd be this relieved to see a Schnee. "What are you doing here?"

Weiss goes over to her side, the ashen knight standing at the ready behind them.

"You both weren't at the meeting spot and we got that weird call from Yang. What's going on? What were those things?"

The song starts again. And both of them turn as the three giants materialize once more behind them.

"It's… a long story."

The air is burning.

The little corner of the store, once filled with steel shelves neatly arranged in tidy rows, now looks like someone took a hammer to anything and everything they could find before setting it all on fire. Shattered tiles, scorched earth and reinforced pieces of concrete pulverized into rubble. It's a euphoria like nothing she's ever experienced. It's an exhaustion like nothing she's ever had to overcome.

Simply put, a human and a human alone cannot oppose a grimm. It's a simple matter of physics. Mass and weight. Under ordinary circumstances, there's no way a girl like her could throw around a monster of shadow five or six times her size.

Aura is the applied phlebotinum that bridges the gap. Aura and semblances and dust and steel and technique. That's what allowed their ancestors to first stand up and fight against the grimm. That's what allows them to continue the fight today.

But even phlebotinum has its limits. And in the case of aura, like any weapon, the effectiveness of that aura is limited by its wielder.

She's always had a strong aura. A burning hot aura. A strong body. A smoking hot body. She personally designed Ember Celica to fit her combat style, and while the Xiao Long-Rose household doesn't have the same dust reserves as, say, the Schnee, she's always had some in her back pocket for sticky situations.

Body, mind and spirit. For her seventeen years on Remnant, she's trained and grown in each in turn. Her body, her bones and her muscles have long become accustomed to the force of her aura and the burn of her semblance. She's trained them to that, and then some.

Her aura. Her semblance. But that little piece of paper stuck onto her upper stomach?

It's a limitless can of nitro hooked up to her motorcycle engine. It's the bottomless magazine loaded into her shotgun. It's a boundless wind taking her flames and turning them into a roaring inferno. And it's not even fully unleashed.

This is the passive form. This is the base. This is the equivalent of just 'her aura'. And, already, Yang feels like her body is on the verge of giving out.

Her fists slam into his jaw, throat, ribs, kidney, lower back, spine. She ducks under a wide swing. Stomach, solar plexus, thighs. Even a nut shot barely gets any reaction. He throws out two wild punches. Block the left, catch the right. She heaves him over her shoulder and into the dirt. She jumps and stomps down and he rolls away, immediately back to his feet, blocking a kick with his forearm, the block giving ever so slightly as he stumbles back and throws a punch, Yang meeting it with a roundhouse, both meeting with equal force and both stumbling back to catch their breath from the exchange.

"What's wrong?!" Yang grins, trying to hide the way her right fist isn't closing all the way. "Finally starting to feel the pain?! Looks like I might be the one going to come help out Blakie after all!"

"You talk too much…" the transformed man growls, a bit of blood smudged across the corner of his lip. He wipes his mouth. He sees the smudge of crimson. And, he scowls, that mounting frustration finally reaching its tipping point.

"Enough of this! I've wasted too much time here already. Let fall away the mask of humanity. I cast off this petty illusion of light."

There is a moment of silence as the shadows around the man darken, the faintly visible outline of the rubble around him disappearing into an abyss of black. The shadows fester, swell, thicken like sludge and engulf the man.

"Cradle of Grendel."

The shadows retract. The creature that emerges is over ten feet tall. It is an Alpha Beowolf, but it isn't at the same time. The shape is still closer to that of a human's than a grimm's, though with exaggerated limbs, a body of shadow and the head of a canine. Spikes adorn its shoulders and burning crimson leers at her through a jet-black mask, a certain symbol carved onto the brow: a six-ringed moon, shattering outward.

"In the name of the Primordial Man, I will crush you and your incomplete humanity."

"Oh sheesh, you're one of those cultist crazies?" Yang jokes, forcing her grin, the sight of the black mask bringing up some less than pleasant memories from initiation. "Guess it really is that time of the month! It just isn't a Blood Moon without a buttload of grimm and a couple wackos trying to stir up trouble, is it?"

The burning crimson flashes with anger.

The canine-like legs tense, thick slabs of muscles expanding beneath fur and shadow before exploding forward, black claws shrieking out of the shadows towards her..

Yang dodges out of the way of the first claw. And she's still mid-air when the second claw comes, slashing into her gauntlets, the impact throwing her into and through a shelf and into the wall.

'… And we're right back to step one.' Yang winces, forcing herself to her feet, still reeling a bit from the blow. 'How many times can this asshole power up? He's done now, right?'

A blur of motion. Clawed feet crashing and scraping against the exposed earth. She sees the burning red eyes before anything else, the transformed acolyte already upon her, descending with fang and claw. Then-

"-Hiya!"

Yang blinks as Ruby appears in a flurry of rose petals, both feet planted into the side of the transformed acolyte's face in a drop kick, the creature veering off to the side and crashing into and through the wall a few feet away.

"Ruby?! What are you doing here?!"

"We got your call!" her little sister rushes up to her to support her. "Weiss and I came here as fast as we could! Are you okay? Why are you glowing so much?"

'Right. I called them into this shit show. Crap.'

"Weiss came too? Where'd she go?"

"She went to where that flute sound was coming from."

"That's where Blake is… that's… fine." Yang lets out a sigh. Somewhat unsure of how to feel about her little sister being here in the metaphorical fire line.

On the one hand, if her little sister hadn't come, at least if she died, Ruby wouldn't be next in line. On the other hand…

"You still have that emergency seal whiskers gave you?"

"Oh! Oh yeah!" Ruby touches one of the pouches on the bandolier around her skirt. "Hehe, actually kind of forgot about that. Uh, I still don't know what it does, but yeah I have it."

"Good…" Yang lets out a breath of relief.

Then, both sisters turn as the transformed acolyte steps back through the wall into the building, its eyes burning a malevolent crimson.

"We might be needing it real soon."

AN: Sorry about missing last week folks, some stuff came up. Anyway, I'll just ask the usual. Favorite part? Least favorite part? Anything you're looking forward to? Let me know in a review.

Also, I'm considering making my own site and uploading this there. I'd still update on ff-dot-net but the other site would just be one chapter ahead or something like that. Main thing is that the statistic collection on this site are ass and I'm actually pretty interested in that for a pet project of mine.

Anyway, as always thanks for reading and reviewing. I'll see you all next week.