Peace In Our Time - Rwby SI

[Maybe Mike]

Chapter 1
Once Upon A Time…

It wasn't the obnoxiously bright light which woke me up. It would have been much nicer if it was, since the noon day sun that blared down outside would have at least let him know he could try and sleep for a few more hours. No, instead it was the sounds of shouting, panic, concern, the rowdy edges of the camp coming online as something disturbed it.

If he was someone else he could probably have ignored it, he might have if it wasn't his job right now to be in charge. His hands came up to run down his face, a long exasperated sigh through grit teeth as annoyance spiked.

With a hand on the railing of the cot, he hauled himself upright while the other grasped towards the stool beside it. It took a try or too to find it, but once his hands gripped the edge the mask came to his face easily.

The inside of the tent was particularly dark, the shadows taking extreme refuge within the safe haven, the sun outside banishing them within the confines. But that meant very little to him, standing up he took the moment to grip the chainsaw that stood ready with its freshly sharpened teeth. Fighting back the yawn of his dry mouth, the heat was not stopped from entering as opposed to the light, and lumbered past several more empty cots and idle stools.

His arm shoved the tent's flap out of the way, the light blinding him for a moment as his eyes adjusted, but once they adjusted he looked out to the sea of white and black uniformed men and women. Many had stopped what they were doing around the camp to look near opposite to him, where the front of the camp opened up towards the trees.

More specifically at the red haired black and red bull angrily glaring at the world. It wouldn't have surprised him if he wasn't even seeing the surroundings. But he was definitely noticed, the blood got out of his way as fast as they could. It didn't escape his notice they all looked at Adam like he was about to start a slaughter.

He flipped the chainsaw to rest on his shoulder as Adam drew closer, he tipped his head in greet but was met only by a grimace. "What happened?"

Adam stopped for a moment; it looked like he might actually stay and talk, but then Adam shook his head and continued on. "Blake left." The tent flap was roughly pushed aside.

There was silence in the camp, as he turned his eyes towards the rest of the Fang. "Well?! Get going! If you have time to gawk, you have time to train!" His bark set the camp in motion, the command shocking them out of their stares.

It is as if nothing has changed.

Everything has changed.

---

He's been here a full week. A week of waking up to find himself in a world that would no doubt do its absolute worst to kill him. It was a world where people died regularly and its amazing the birth rate kept up with the death rate by all reckoning. Between the roving murder machines called the Grim which slaughter and overrun entire villages, the Race warriors of the White Fang who do their best to catch up to the Grim while engaging in terrorist acts across the globe, but what's worse, the literal immortals playing with the lives of millions on a chess board only the two of them could see…

And the pieces knowingly or unknowingly danced to their tunes.

"One such example…" He murmured, watching as Adam was part way through a normal mission debrief, going over the finer points about how the White Fang will stop a train and use bullheads and various vehicles to ship the dust and other supplies off and to their new home within one of many White Fang storage operations. Some even planned to go back to Menagerie since that island hardly was getting top shelf dust.

Instead, Adam was constantly side-eyeing his left side as if to confirm something, only to stop mid stride and restart whatever sentence he was going on, or whatever point. Several times Adam stopped to affirm only himself, when he was clearly going to say 'me and-'.

It was akin to watching some video buffer for a quarter of a second before continuing, except it continued to happen in jerky hormonally inspired gaps of emotional vulnerability.

He was about to die from second hand embarrassment.

To think, he considered the sappy not-romantic-yet-sharing-space thing Adam and Blake did was too much. Honestly, maybe he should slap Adam upside the head, see if that made the giant emo teenager in an almost adult body restart. If nothing else, it would make HIM feel better.

Adam looked to his left "Bla-" His jaw shut with an audible click as his teeth clenched, going back to stalking left and right before the map of Vale. Soon enough there would be their own Mariana's Trench where Adam was walking.

He turned his head subtly, catching the attention of Perry. He offered, begged practically, nonverbally across the aisle to the officer of logistics that he was. Surely the logistics of moving around the White Fang equaled the Logistics of a man's childhood girlfriend running off on him mid terrorist operation?

The traitor showed his palms and leaned back as Perry offered the entire fiasco right back. Honestly, as much as he wanted to blame Perry, to be quite honest the officer might not survive bringing that up and that was an exhausting thought… Having to take up Logistics…

He sighed, even as Adam spoke or maybe rambled about the mission, he stopped paying attention by this point. He turned his face to the canopy of the HQ's tent, groaning as he removed his mask to run a hand down his face to try and work up the energy to do what he was about to do- Interfere in a 'relationship' of two hormonal teenagers… Well, seventeen and nineteen aren't that bad… Maybe… "God it really shouldn't be…" He mumbled under his breath.

"Adam-" "What."

Whatever he would have said is cut off by that same hormonal teenager, turning to glare at him through the mask. "Is the mission outline not important to you, Lieutenant?" The edge of Adam's voice was venomous and ready to relieve some anger out of him of all people.

Now he and Perry shared an unhidden look before the smaller bespectacled man took the other few who were needed in the meeting outside.

Leaving him feeling like a Matador with no safety blanket… Not even the levity of that joke helped the anxiety in his stomach.

"Adam." He affirmed, taking the small confidence of not being interrupted, rebuked, hell even getting attacked. The glare was still intimidating knowing Adam could kill him six ways from Sunday and still take home leftovers. "You're distracted."

The snort from amusement was clearly anything but. I pressed on before he could try and ignore this. "Blake-"

"Is a traitor!" The fist folded the table and sent him taking a nervous step back, while Adam looked chiseled from stone. "If I'm distracted, it's because of the secrets she knows and what could happen to the White Fang." Adam leaned forward, the fist gripping the handle of his sword. "Drop. It. Lieutenant. She doesn't matter anymore, she can be found in time."

He hesitated for a moment, knowing there was a very good chance Adam would kill him if he chose to continue. He was taking a gamble, a really big gamble, that Adam wasn't nearly as homicidal and unstable as he would later become… That 'The Beast' as he was so called wouldn't be entirely mad… He sighed and prepared himself, straightening himself and clenching his fist. He called heads.

"She was also someone close to you, Adam." That stilled the man "Yesterday you two sat around a campfire and talked. The day before you trained. Just because shes a traitor doesn't mean she suddenly stopped mattering to you." Adam started up again teeth grit as the reminder of just how little the betrayal hurt her started to send him over the edge. He leaned and gripped the hilt of his Chainsaw, readying to fight for his life. "You're distracted, you keep forgetting she's gone- So far only me and Perry can see that, but what happens in the middle of an operation? When your feelings for her-"

Adam moved then, and he barely managed to bring the chainsaw up to block the strike which sent him hurtling out of the command tent. His feet found ground first, sending him rolling across the dirt as he failed to find his footing that saw him finally stop when he stabbed his blade into the earth so he was half kneeling half sprawled out.

Adam strode out, one hand on the sheathe, the other on the fully drawn red blade that gave him a good look at just how dirtier he'd make the pretty red of its sheen.

The Camp was also coming alive around the two of them, the clearing in the middle of the camp swiftly filling up with Faunus who heard the commotions and came running. Some came running from the shouting of others, but Adam had barely made twenty feet towards him when it felt like the entire camp surrounded them. At the very least, Adam wasn't so far gone to not address them.

"This is a Spar." Adam's voice, filled with confidence and authority that did a really great job at hiding how pissed their leader was, calmed the nerves of everyone except him. "A spar." Adam's voice grew deadly calm then, "Nothing more."

There was a part of his body which quailed, the part of him that was still the man from before, the White Fang extremist who would one day shove the back of Weiss Schnee's head into the flooring of a moving train, and who would stare down Blake ready to do it again immediately after. That part of him desperately wanted to do anything other than fight Adam.

The other part grit its teeth and prepared to take a beating.

---

Adam, for all the lightly ruffled black coat seemed undamaged, flicking the blade as if to clear it from blood before sliding it gracefully into the sheathe. For all that he was huffing and puffing on his back and looking up at the stronger man, Adam looked positively relaxed. Whether the exertion helped calm him down or he was just happy to punt me around enough it offset Blakes betrayal- Yeah, that was no contest on which it truly was.

"You did good." Adam praised, and that shook him from his thoughts. "Trying to remove my sword was a good idea, but it cost you."

The shock of receiving just blatant praise was… Strange. Adam was always gruff, few words, critiques and rarely offering anything. He 'trained' with Adam previously, but this was nothing compared to then. For one, Pissed off Adam didn't care about 'consequences'.

The mask looked towards him. "Since when have you had your Aura unlocked?"

"I have my Aura unlocked?" The response escaped him between puffs of breath. Adams' unimpressed frown was painful, yet the Bull merely shook his head and began walking back to his tent. "You should go after her."

This stopped Adam dead, for the second time today. A record. He really didn't want to know what he won if he managed a third.

He discarded that thought, hauling himself and pulling himself upright. "You're distracted, you could have beat me down worse-" He didn't know if that was true, he felt like a giant bruise already "If she wasn't consuming your mind. Go after her."
Adam, for all their dark and broody angst, probably wasn't a total monster yet. He didn't kill me after all, so he continued to bet on his horse…

"I'll keep that in mind." Adam said, continuing back towards the Command Tent. The horde of spectators surrounding the impromptu sparring ring began to break up with Adam leaving.

He damn near collapsed in relief at that. It was probably the fact he kept a hand on the chainsaw still stuck in the ground from where Adam parried it in. His muscles felt like jelly and he hurt all over, but there was still hope in this ruined engine of a body.

There was little hope in the act of trying - and failing - to pull his sword out of the ground in one go. It was almost pitiful. The big strong Lieutenant was unable to pull his own damn weapon out of the ground. Frustrating is what it was.

A second pair of hands joined his, grabbing at the actual chainsaw handle and helping to pull it out of the ground, not with no little amount of grunting from the smaller set of hands. But once it came free, it was still heavy as shit, but he found it so much easier to rest the dirty chains on his shoulder and rest them there. Even though it still played hell on his arms that crossed over the hilt to try and spread the misery.

"Was it really?"

For the first time, he actually turned to look at the White Fang and was surprised to find it wasn't actually Perry. Instead it was a lad with two tusks coming up from under his chin. The smaller man was almost a full foot shorter, and looked after Adam like that Bull was going to come charging back and finish him off.

"Was what really?" He murmured, exhaustion already clawing at his eyes, while sweat made his skin sticky and filthy. As if the dirt clinging to his uniform and skin didn't make it all the worse for it.

"The 'Spar'." The Boar faunus turned to regard him, clarifying. "It looked like Adam was trying to kill you more than he was trying to spar with you… What did you say to him?"

He didn't reply right away, instead looking over to where Adam stalked into the tent. He didn't answer for the longest moment, instead taking the time to rub a line across his neck where Adam's blade had broken his aura he wasn't even aware he had. The bruise felt like a warning as it pulsed with muted pain. "Nothing." He affirmed. "It was just a spar… Nothing more."

---

The rest of yesterday passed with him scraping himself off the dirt floor of the camp and limping through the act of work. Generally that being telling recruits to run, training them to properly shoot their weapons, and being a menacing figure. Hampered slightly by the fact he could barely walk and every visible part of his body was some form of purple and blue. In a way it might have made him seem all the scarier, since part of that battle felt like Adam well and truly was trying to kill him. Or maybe that was just him trying to make a better reason then simply barking harsher at the grunts.

By the next morning, whether because Aura or simply because the body he now inhabited was a walking six seven walking slab of muscle, he would prefer the former, he was up with only sore muscles. Most of the bruises, while still glaringly obvious, were more faded and healed then before. Still felt every sore battered bruise with his stiff movement and tender step from the officer's tent.

That he hadn't seen Adam during morning drills or last night to sleep was worrying, however.

Indeed, when he finally stepped into the command tent and found not only was the map of Remnant replaced by a map of the Kingdom of Vale, but that it was very clearly marked up by the path of the rail line Adam and Blake raided alongside several theorized markers of where Blake could have gone?

He will admit, he loathed to ask and was on the verge of cheering at the same moment.

Adam looked up from where he was hunched over a table with what looks like several more maps, including train lines and local maps bought from villages. Adam looked up when he entered the tent at the same moment he himself was inspecting the scrawled notes across the map. He met Adam's gaze, before slowly turning his head back up towards the scribbled map hanging from the board.

"Hrm." Adam grunted.

"..." His head turned back towards Adambefore drifting back up, taking a long moment to look it over, before looking back to the hormonal teenager with a raised brow. "I suppose you've put it out of mind then." The dry drawl saw Adam scowl once more, but he came up to the table and looked across the mess spread across its surface. Then he glanced up to the man of the early hour and was unsurprised to see him being watched. "Did you work through the night?" He asked innocently.

Adam responded with a deeper scowl, yet didn't dignify it with a response, instead looking back down towards the sprawl he made of the command tent's table.

He waited a few extra moments then he needed to, before he pushed onwards, testing the waters. "I'll have some men bring you some food. It doesn't look like you've eaten anything."

It also didn't look like the man cleaned up after the beatdown Adam gave him yesterday. His clothes were still ruffled, but now it's clear they've been worn far longer than they should have, there were smudges of ink from pens and markers on his fingers, and he would bet money if Adam took the mask off that there would be dark circles under the eyes.

Or maybe he was being fanciful.

"Don't bother." Adam finally joined the conversation proper, standing up and running a hand through his hair. "I'll be going to sleep soon anyway." Even though saying as such, Adam continued pawing through the piles of paper.

He would have called it idling if he could read Adam worth a damn. The shorter man was hard to read with the mask on, it certainly didn't help the man barely emoted at all… Then again, he was hardly one able to read someone's emotions at the best of times. He settled for crossing his arms casually, the mask hiding the wince from his arms at the movement. "How long until you'll return?"

Adam looked at him again, holding the gaze for a few long moments before sighing out all the exasperation and muttering something he didn't catch. "I'm not." Adam finally replied, shaking their head as he turned to walk away. "I can't leave the White Fang long enough for it." Adam sounded resigned as he spoke, like it was a great burden on his shoulders. But if one kick didn't work-

"I don't see why not." He said honestly. "You're a good leader, but we won't fall apart if you decide to take off." He shrugged his shoulders, wincing once again as tears began to form in his eyes as the pain caught him. "White Fang existed before you, it can last two or three months without you." He nodded towards the exit where the White Fang in question was already drilling once more, this time his annoyance at the small aches and pains that seemed to flare up whenever he tried to make a damn point. It was one thing to be exhausted and in pain, this seemed vindictive on part of his body and it was really getting old. Fast.
Adam turned back, as if he had offended every iota of his being… Then there was the awkward silence between them… "What?!" He broke first, rather easily. "It's the truth."

For a few moments, it looked as if the 'Truth' was going to see Adam backtrack and double down. But then the tipping edge came that saw Adam huff and gradually return to the table. Then, Adam took a contemplative look, rubbing his chin as he crossed his arms, looking at the map of Remnant."Who would take over while I'm gone?" Adam asked honestly. Rather than look at him, staring into the distance as he seemingly thought about something else entirely.

It took him a second to think, not really considering why the question was asked beyond the need for a replacement. "Perry." He answered honestly. "He is the Logistical Expert, can get us from point A to Point B, and we have Officers who could fill the role as his liaison."

"Not yourself?" Adam asked, confusion apparent in the voice.

"You could." He shrugged, conceding the point. "I'd lead as I'm able, combat, drill the troops, morale, and planning." He shook his head "Perry has the mind for logistics and finer planning. I'm a brute with a chainsaw and tougher than I have any right to be."

"You'd also serve as a symbol." Adam pointed out. "Half the battle is morale. If I'm gone, the White Fang will need someone to believe in and follow." The bull faunus looked him up and down. "Everyone saw you hold your own against me, it's not hard to imagine you inspiring them even without that."
"Not sure how much of that was holding my own…" He grumbled, "But I'm still not Adam Taurus." He pointed out. "There isn't going to be anyone who can fill your shoes, Adam. Even if I can hold down the fort-"

"Then you won't need to do more than that." Adam affirmed. "I'm only leaving for two, three months at most. Not seeking a full replacement." The growing confidence in the other man was making him frown at the thought of being a symbol of the White Fang. The terrorist organization… "By all likelihood, I'll find Blake and we'll both be back before then." Adam continued, ignorant or uncaring of the sickening thoughts going on within the man being handed authority.

"I still think Perry would be a better replacement. Symbol worthy or not, he would serve the Fang better than I can."

Adam shook his head. "I agree. But the White Fang lives and breathes on its symbols, truth of the matter or not. Perry would do better, but the White Fang needs something to follow until I return."

Adam grabbed his shoulder, giving him some silent support and affirming the confidence placed in him. "Rely on him to help you, Perry isn't so above it all he wouldn't assist you or try to undermine you just because I picked you over him." Then, Adam pulled him down so he and Adam were face to face. "But do not forget yourself, Lieutenant." Adam growled, any and all musings gone, replaced by barely constrained violence. "This is not to last. Three months. If that. Start to believe yourself above your station and you will not last longer than that deadline." Adam leaned forward, ready to unload buckshot from the sheathe of his sword. "Am I understood, Lieutenant?"

Never in this life nor the last did he ever feel as small as he did now… Even when he was sure Adam was going to kill him, there was that niggling in the back of his mind about the hopeful thoughts he held to Adam's nature. This wasn't a matter of hope, it was a matter of disagreement that would see him dead. "Y-Yes, sir…"

Adam released him, letting him breathe as he suddenly realized he was holding his breath, and collected a few maps before leaving the tent. "I'll make preparations. Continue with the next train. I trust you and Perry to see it done."

Then Adam Left.

I had to wonder, when he departed the next day, what I had unleashed upon the world.

The coin hadn't finished spinning through the air, afterall.



AN:
Well, I'm not sure how far this'll go, but Its a test in my ability to write a bit every day or every other day on my days off. Not meant to be a masterwork, just a test in diligence.

Join this Server! Where you can yell at me in real time how much you love or hated this fic. Or can see me curse the act of writing something now a DnD campaign. There'll be lots of that.

Also looking for a Beta, assuming this goes the Distance.

 

[krahe]

Oh, this is nice premise. Always liked the design of the Chainsaw Lieutenant, and Lieutenant's Chainsaw

 

[Phylonemios]

I'm confused about his relation with Adam, will it stay "submissive" for a lack of better word ?

Thank you for writing !

 

[RedTown]

Man, loving this already. And honestly, I think this is the first time I've seen an SI with this guy, so double cheers!

Good luck-- I think you got some real potential here.

 

[Maybe Mike]

Man, loving this already. And honestly, I think this is the first time I've seen an SI with this guy, so double cheers!

Good luck-- I think you got some real potential here.

Click to shrink...

Thanks for the love, but I think I'm surprised you found enough RWBY SIs to form a consensus. I feel like i was struggling to find any, let alone enough to find any consistency.

 

[roxss]

Well...this deserves an image of the MC for the simple fact that I can't imagine what he looks like, beyond being big with a chainsaw sword.

 

[Maybe Mike]

Chapter 2
There Was a Traveler…

They began their march a bit before dawn the next morning, for all that he had done for the week he had been within the White Fang, the truth of the matter was he was still ill-equipped. Physically, he could march twice the distance, carrying the full weight of another man in the form of his chainsaw and the supplies he hauled with him. Yet, mentally, he was struggling with the transition.

There was no preparation one can have, to one day be a fanatical member of a terrorist organization more loyal to Adam Taurus then their own well being.

So when he looked back down the hill to the line of White Fang resolutely marching through Forever Falls to the next rail line, it was with a certain disdain at how slow the going was. Mentally, he understood that moving the few hundred bodies with a convoy of vehicles moving supplies took time, but it was only as he lived it did he realize the problems at hand.

They had gotten the camp awoken before dawn, getting food in their bellies and readying them with the usual encouragement. If nothing else, Adam ran a tight ship and no one who was hoofing it through the Wildlands outside the scope of the usual huntsmen or villages were simple volunteers. They had mild training, little better then some minor boot camp from his understanding, and knew how to handle a firearm or weapon. Or, at the very least, can reliably use such weapons to kill…

'Didn't that thought make him queasy… About having to do the deed…'

Discarding that worrying line of thought and back to why they were hiking with several pieces of heavier equipment instead of just taking the Bullheads that were known to be around. It was honestly annoying and pragmatic, in that it was much harder to track the White Fang if they avoided the air. If going by the way the Vets were smacking down the fresher members, it was character building, affirming their choices, and proving they had the guts to take the fight to the SDC.

Maybe it was just a matter of switching up tactics. White Fang abused their ability to lightning strike with Bullheads was his guess. Do it long enough, and the enemy would have to catch on. Personally, he thought the added benefit of a transport with guns mounted on it would be worth the enemy having whatever the hell they had in their pocket, but maybe there were some Anti-Air defenses he just didn't know about. Or maybe the White Fang didn't have many. Or maybe he was just a damned fool for sticking it out with the fanatical terrorists.

Not as if he'd know, but his money was on all of them.

Perry at least assured him there were some on standby, ready to come and help them offload the supplies when they hit the train.

But to be honest, after hiking with the rest of the grunts he had begun to genuinely imagine that Adam and Blake and whoever the hell else was apart of the leadership just fucking flew to the campsite they'd next set up rather than hike. He honest to god couldn't imagine them roughing it by hiking through the wilderness. Even right now, he would have wished the damn world to just sit in a bullhead and wait for the column to catch up.

Of course, there was probably something to be said about keeping up Morale among the regs by doing the sucky part with them. He couldn't comment if that was actually helping, but many stories had said that a Leader ends up with great respect if they lead men through the same circumstances. Maybe that was true, and in which case the morale boost would keep away unwanted parties, and if it wasn't then at the very least… He didn't know a good side to that.

Course, there came another horrid, exciting part about leading from the White Fang through Wildlands.

The teeth of his chainsaw sunk a foot into the Ursa before becoming lodged, but that swiftly changed as he ducked under its roaring paw swipe and revved the chainsaw. The roaring teeth chewed through what was left as he followed through on his previous swing, seeing the Ursa bisected and his chainsaw came down like a boulder to split its skull where it fell on the ground.

Around him, the White Fang engaged the rest of the Grimm pack, some members keeping them at bay with their swords while the rest unleashed round after round from their rifles. Which is where he came in.

As the strongest here, he was at the front, bearing down on the grim and not letting them get distracted and going after the rest of the Fang. And he couldn't help the grin that spread at the mindless exertion that came with swinging a chainsaw greatsword into the unarmored parts of a Grimm's flesh. There was a special kind of high that came with unleashing violence against the Grimm, like they were the world's greatest punching bag! Except more than capable of roaring in anger and pain!

He felt like a sadist admitting even that much.

It was the roar of battle and the shattering of steel that saw him jerk from where he was standing lost in the aftermath of hacking away at the world's greatest stress ball. It was the cry of someone hurt that saw his head snap as it looked towards the poor sod that had a giant black bear roaring above him.

He stopped the swing with a thrust through its back before wrenching its body up, too high to hit its victim. For a moment there was a slowdown that came from the bone plates resisting the teeth of the chainsaw, but a boot planted into the carved messy slice on its back gave him the leverage to haul it upward. He didn't know when he got there, just that a grin was splitting his face behind his back as the chainsaw chewed on air instead of flesh or bone. It was intoxicating, to lose himself in the slashing of Grimm…

The two halves of its upper half fell apart, leaving him looking down at the curved sword White Fang, who looked up at him with a gaping mouth, maybe awe, maybe relief, he didn't know, he didn't care, his head turned to try and find the next one-

Only to find the rest already drifting into ash. He felt the same disappointing taste on his tongue, as his grin slipped and the White Fang began regrouping. Casings retrieved from the ground, scouts already heading back out to range ahead, and he was left gripping the chainsaw until his knuckles turned white because he wasn't satisfied with the two he hacked apart. It took him counting down from five with careful exhales to release the grip on his saw, but even then, the frustration did not release him as he shook the great two hander from its second handle to get off the grimm dust and bone lodged in the teeth that was already disintegrating from his weapon

It was only then he noticed the sod who had his sword broken before hadn't even moved, one arm still raised like he was about to be killed by the Ursa. This time, his huff came out as exasperation, but the levity made him feel better than the counting had.

His hand came down as he leaned down.

The poor bastard flinched and looked away. But then a few moments later looked back, as if he hadn't just offered to lift the guy up.

He didn't wait, instead gripping the man by the crook of their elbow with the offered arm and hauling them up with ease that surprised even him. "C'mon, we still have more to go…" He glanced at the broken shards on the ground- "Collect your weapon, broken or not we can probably use it, then go get another one."

There was a stammered reply, but he didn't pay it much attention as he let the chainsaw rest on his shoulder as he strolled back among the rest of the Fang. Too busy trying to calm down the nerves and tension in his arms.. He was annoyed to go back to hiking, but he didn't trust himself to do anything related to people at that moment. Better the silent exertion than needing to direct some of the Fang.

---

The hiking march, for all that it had annoyed him, had seen him calm down. Both from the excitement and from the irritable mood he was in. Now he sat in the new camp, not too far away from the rail line where they planned to ambush the next SDC shipment. Not then and there, shaking a train too hard or derailing it risks the dust going off from what he understood, so instead they were going to board it preemptively… Or rather, he and some others were going to pre-board the death trap and once it was secure send out a message via scroll. And their method to get there?

On a Bullhead…

He was very sure to clench his teeth behind the mask and make sure he didn't say a damn fucking word about just taking one from the previous campsite to this one. He didn't voice it, and no one would be witness to it.

So it was that a few hours from now, when the train is several miles away, He, Perry, and a couple squads of grunts who knew their way around a battle were going to drop from the sky and fight their way to the front of the train, stop it, and have the rest of the White Fang offload it, keep what they need to continue their efforts, and prepare to move several hundred tons of dust to various dead drops and affiliated smugglers who would do who knows what with it.

He presumed most went back to Menagerie, considering he didn't know anything about the internal distribution of the White Fang.

This left him… With several hours to spend getting prepared for the mission ahead… It would be a lie to say he spent it well, mostly making sure the chainsaw on his back was clean and had fresh dust within it, spent time with Perry making sure the ones selected were fine, then he mostly spent it walking around the camp and 'overseeing' work done. There wasn't really any sort of way that he could figure out, to mentally prepare himself for the first real mission he would be going on, and expected to lead. It really put the spur of the moment idea to convince Adam of it really into question… Or at the very least he should have convinced Adam to follow Blake after this entire debacle.

So it was that he found himself waiting for the Bullhead to land, the loud engine roars doing little to calm his nerves nor distract him as his mind finally fell back… Always just before the deadline did he do his best thinking, even this was no different it seems…

It was almost…God, seven years ago when he stopped boxing. He'd finished college, but from little under seventeen to twenty five he boxed like the horrible gym rat he was… This was something… Else… This went beyond the want for violence of an adrenaline junkie hormonal teenager with too much energy and not enough outlets from a quant home life … He'd had highs, when there was nothing but the adrenaline and exertion of beating on people, but this was extreme even for him.

He considered for a moment, whether or not the Lieutenant from before had been using Steroids, or at least the Remnant equivalent. He had never used them, in either life, yet the signs against the grimm seemed daming… But he was no expert, and shouldn't there be signs during his everyday life? It was strange, because he didn't know which answer was better.

He marveled over the gloved hand that would have dwarfed his in his previous life, rolling the fingers, clenching and unclenching his fist… He hadn't known how or why he came to be, but that he had such an extreme reaction to just fighting grimm…

He worried about what he would do if he came into contact with people… Would he go into some sort of rampage, would he suddenly find himself losing all qualms about… What he was about to do… Or will he just, still be himself?

He didn't know…

"So long as it's not going through puberty again…" He sighed, feeling all the more tired for the poor excuse of a joke.

"Did you say something, sir?" One of the others asked, as the bullhead landed in front of them, having to shout to be heard over the roaring engines.

He jerked his head towards the open doors. "Let's get this over with."

His stomach did flips as he gripped the hanging strap and it certainly was not motion sickness as the door closed casting them in dull red light.

He regretted sending Adam after Blake already.

---

The bullhead shook and shuddered as the two squads and himself waited, the red light had started blinking not even a minute ago and it was already starting to cause him a headache. Nerves or maybe he just had full on anxiety at this point, was causing his mood to drop every moment he had to wait for the doors to open.

In a way, maybe it was nice to carry a giant greatsword chainsaw, because looking over the teeth idly was much better than the rest of the poor bastards in here. Stuck with their swords or guns that didn't need much more in terms of maintenance, gave him something to focus on while he no doubt looked like a slasher villain to his fellow seekers of equality.

"One minute until drop off." The pilot called back, an act that saw him drop the chainsaw to rest on the floor as he looked back towards the rest of the White Fang, only to find them looking at him.

Some were showing their nerves, running hands through hair, fidgeting with weapons, most though were clearly ready and this wasn't their first rodeo. Heh. They stood ready and eager, and considering the company Adam probably kept, he didn't doubt they were ready to kill for the chance to be first out.

"Let's keep things simple. See a Knight, kill a Knight. See a Spider, don't be a hero, call it out and we'll deal with it." His chainsaw came to rest on his shoulder as they nodded to him. "Stick to cover, shoot them dead, stab them if they get close, and if you can't see my back you're either too far back or too damn close." That got chuckles which, he wasn't intending that, but good for them if they can get something out of this.

The door began to open behind him.

"And if you see SDC Crew," He shouted, as everyone watched the train come in from below, yet he kept their attention. "You kill them, I'll kill you myself. They're mine, I'm first." The latter half calmed down the outrage already forming on the former, but he didn't let them get the chance to question it.

The light turned green, and he jumped out of the bullhead onto the black train below.

He rolled with his landing, taking him a second to get used to the speed below him but came up just as the rest began landing around him. It was one of the few open sections of the train, already the crates with the symbols of the SDC were prominent, but hell if he knew what was in the ones out there. Maybe it was canisters rather than dust itself, but it didn't matter. It would matter when they stopped the train not a moment sooner.

Looking up, the Bullhead began pulling away to await the call while the rest of the White Fang followed him towards the front of the car. Looking right, left, and nodding to each of them, he raised a leg and kicked the door into the dark interior of the cart.

Unlocking the ominous darkness that might have been typical, especially considering what he vaguely remembered of the train Adam and Blake were going to sabotage, this was just the normal kind of dark. Supplies in shipping crates, some in the chest, looking like a smattering of movers boxes as well. The faunus night vision served them well here.

"Two watch our backs." He said, lumbering ahead while the rest filtered in behind him. "Make sure any robots don't sneak up on us." He was relying more on how he'd imagine a show would handle this sort of thing rather than experience. Flying by the seat of your pants was fine for writing a Dungeons and Dragons campaign, but doing it in a combat situation was asking to be shot in the ass.

Some of the fang moved to begin inspecting the crates and some others watched the door they just came through, but everyone else followed after him as they jogged towards the far door.

"Isn't it strange?" He cocked his head left towards the grunt who spoke "That we haven't been attacked yet? We weren't exactly subtle. Where's the robots? Or the crew?"

There was a dismissive snort from his right "Bah, SDC is clearly slacking. Who cares about lost profits when you can just make more."

That got a bark of laughter as the group came to the far door, "Yeah, White Fang are winning this war!" He could only shake his head, raising his leg to kick down the next door-

Only for the door to open, a gun barrel pressed against his chest sent him hurtling down the train car that ended with a sickening crunch.

---

He came back around to the sounds of screams and battle cries, not to mention the sounds of gunfire and screeching metal on metal.

He didn't recognize where he was, looking dully at the dark confines of the train car, confused and disoriented. This wasn't his apartment, his car, sure as hell wasn't work-

His shoulder slammed into the ground before he realized he even tried to get his arms under him, the entire room swaying sickeningly.

It wasn't the second or third try to get some semblance of understanding, a weird guy with claws where his feet should be got punted into the wall beside him, but a few pats on the back to try and console the guy made him feel alot better.

No one patted him on the back.

On the fourth try, he managed to get his ass on the ground, which helped the swaying of the room somehow, despite falling over, he got his legs under him for the fifth try. Then he noticed the chainsaw someone left at his feet, like the fool they were! He stumbled when he leaned down, but latching onto the handle further up the chain made him feel even better than before.

When he straightened, it was to find some black and red looking man suddenly running at him. With blades on his arms. Like some weird Full Metal wanna be-

His entire body screamed at him when the blade was trust his way, the sudden sharpening of the entire world saw his chainsaw casing coming up to bat the blade up, crunching up his shoulder to avoid the second stab- He didn't give the robot a third as he swung his chainsaw like a giant club, swinging with his entire body and imprinting the robot scrap heap into the wall of the car, its chest caved in from the strike. Its red lights flickered as if it was about to get back up before it fell to darkness.

Suddenly he realized he was huffing, the dull ringing and pain that came all along his back, neck, and head, and also the absolute chaos unfolding within the traincar.

The White Fang were scattered all throughout, there were no battle lines, those with guns were as often firing them as they were bashing them upside the chassis of the various knights. Those with actual blades were at the very least exchanging blows but they were outnumbered and being whittle down.

But the biggest problem was the spider droid at the other end of the train car, unleashing shot after shot from its four barrels at the White Fang who stood still too long. White Fang that were trying to focus it down but can't because of the knights, or were already on the ground unresponsive as the spider droid rained down hell.

He felt his feet running before his mind caught up, the chainsaw revving as he span and bisected the first knight at the waist, the next caught the overhead on its blades which quickly snapped under the teeth of his chainsaw, and the third had its skull dented, neck snapped, all from the impact of his hilt to the tip of its cranium.

He tore through the knights then, the great heaving swings of roaring teeth denting if not outright destroying the knights it impacted, those which survived the impact didn't survive his fists or the teeth chewing through the metal with horrible screeches.

Unlike the Grimm in the woods, the feedback from his saw was irritating, as it jerked and juddered from each and every tooth attempting to find purchase in the metal of the machine, not at all the same satisfaction that came hewing through black fur and meat and bone. The sounds hurt his ears, accentuating the headache that started to pound like a drum behind his head, the crunch of metal left no satisfaction except in the destruction of property. They didn't roar, they didn't cry out in pain, they didn't even really attempt to retaliate because they could barely handle the weight and strength of his blows.

Shots pounded against his chest, scorching the white vest he wore where he was struck, making him stagger a step and caused his swing to lose power. Instead of trying to complete the swing, he stepped forward, his foot sliding between the legs of the knight he was engaged in even as more shots were flying towards him, ducking under the thrusting blade of the offending knight. With a twist of his waist, his fist still wrapped around the handle and throttle of his chainsaw dented the back of the robot- sending it flying into the air with his fist imprinted.

His turning swing nearly took off the head of a White Fang he hadn't seen coming, mid stride as they came to assist him. Instead of staring blindly into death, that grunt either tripped or slid under the blade, that saw his chainsaw slice through the arms of another knight, leaving a line of sawn shredded metal. It didn't survive the backswing, even as it tried to strike him with arms no longer there, but it did result in the chainsaw embedding into the floor of the traincar.

He made use of that moment to twist the chainsaw so the flat of the blade was covering at least some parts of his body, and he minimized it further when he turned sideways in a vain attempt to hide behind the weapon that wouldn't stand up to shots for long. Already the shots were pinging off the metal, and he certainly didn't want to test just how durable a weapon this chainsaw was.

The Grunt joined him in makeshift cover all the same "Sir, the situation is bad! Nothing we have is denting that spider droid! We need to get out of here!"

He grunted, already feeling a snarl form on his lips, he lost himself in the combat of slicing through the droids he lost track of the battle he was already nearly past where the White Fang managed to retreat to. The same men he was attempting to desperately get to. The sounds of Gunfire around him, now already turning against the knights and seeing him not shot in the back, he still could barely tell where they were in the sea of droids and bodies yet it was proof enough.

If he couldn't protect and fight the battle, he'd just need to separate the two.

"Get to the Fang, get everyone to focus on the Knights. I'll distract the spider." He didn't see the nod, and he barely heard the 'Yes Sir!', because with a reaving of the chainsaw once more, he charged forward, the chainsaw sparking against the car floor as he barreled through several knights, slicing down a group with a twirling slash saw droids launched and cleared his way towards the droid.

The few who remained behind to distract the droid held valiantly, but they were already fallen dead or unconscious he didn't know. His body didn't wait to ponder it. The droid saw him coming and already turned a gun to aim at him, but it was distracted by the shots being riddled into it at the moment of distraction as it returned fire with a different barrel. He wasn't Adam who could tank it, nor was he Blake who could dodge it with clones or acrobatics.

It was desperation and desperation alone that saw his roll forward slide under the shot, and it was the surprising grace of the body he inherited that he turned it into a handstand at the cost of losing the only weapon he had. He landed hard with a grunt of pain, legs scrabbling to find purchase on the steel of the floor as he scrambled to grab the chainsaw.

He wasn't aware he was in danger until after his scrambling took him out of the way of the claw that struck the ground hard enough to dent the flooring. His feet finally got under him as he swiped up his chainsaw, his and the chainsaw's roar combined as he brought it down in a twirling overhead onto the thinner connector behind the knee with all the force and weight he could muster.

The screeching of teeth saw sparks ignite his vision, the chainsaw sinking slightly into the metal before near seconds after impact his sword bounced off- His confusion wasn't given the grace of attempting to figure out what happened, as the claw he just attempted to separate struck him in the chest. The claw the size of him saw him once more strike the wall of the car, but this time it was with a ripple of orangish red light, and pain exploding across his back.

He staggered forward and landed on his arms and knees, sucking in pain through clenched teeth as the headache and pain from being embedded a second time knocked the wind out of him. He looked up in time to see the spider leveling a barrel at him for a second time-

This time it wasn't some measly bullets which distracted it by a series of miniature fiery explosions that rocked it back. He watched in astonishment as several more explosive rounds ripped through it, the spider desperately raising its barrels to block the shots as it returned fire. His head jerked towards where they were coming from- The grunts were pulling dust rounds out of the crates by the fistful, shoving them into guns and just firing. The great damned equalizer that was Dust… Who knew how many rounds they were using or how much that cost to do, but it was working.

Then the droid began to transform, and dread ran down his spine. He gripped the handle of his chain saw and made to stand-

"CATCH, LIEUTENANT!" There was a shattering and the scattering of crystals, as one of the grunts hurled a chest as far as he could, and now dust crystals rolled their way towards him.

His weapon didn't have the ability to inject dust into it as far as he was even aware, but that didn't stop him from snatching up a blue crystal and running forward.

He didn't know how to use dust. From what he understood, Humans and Faunus 'used their aura' to trigger the stuff, but he sure as shit didn't know what that meant. He sure as hell didn't know how to safely activate these things either, so he just prayed to whatever god was listening as he ran under the first leg to the one he tried to destroy just a few moments ago. The gun above his head powering its shot with a hum that sent the hair along his scalp tingling.

He had a few moments, if that, to deal with this thing- He didn't mince words when he james the crystal into the damaged joint and brought down the whirling teeth of his chainsaw down atop it like an eviscerating hammer.

He could not breathe through the mask, because the stream of water consumed his vision, hiding whatever the hell he did from few as the eyes of his mask were flooded, the holes for his nose no longer had space for air, and the entire front of his body was in the splash zone. He clenched the throttle harder, pressing down in resistance to the stream of water that tried to lift him off his feet, trying to save them all from being exploded by a damned spider droids laser firing within enclosed space with dust littered everywhere-

He fell gasping, but not backwards or being launched off his feet by the spider's blast, but falling forward as water spurted like a fountain from the floor. There was a crack then a great- *BZZTTWOOOM*

When his vision cleared this time, he was still in one piece, if once again his front on the ground with only his grip on the chainsaw's two handles keeping him away from where his chainsaw's teeth were clawing up the steel of the cabin. The darkened confines of the train car, once lit only by the red lines of the dust powered robots, now were filled by the natural light of the sun. He had to blink once or twice, before looking up to see that indeed the roof was just gone. When he turned to look at the spider droid, its red lines dim and low powered, it had fallen backwards, by his guess attempting to compensate for losing one of its legs but the blast had seen it fall onto its back.

With a grunt, he stood even as the spider droid attempted to right itself with little effect. The white fang closed ranks around it.

Shamelessly, He took great satisfaction as he hacked the helpless robot which sent him flying into two different walls apart.

---

"Of the fourteen that went with you, three are dead, two have broken bones, and the rest of minor injuries they can sleep off or can see returned to health with the medics in camp." Perry rattled off, both of them were now in the confines of the command tent, the camp near abandoned as the majority of the white fang were now offloading the dust from the train. The canisters of dust, the shipping crates, and most importantly the bullets would see what the majority of use.

It's a shame it came at a cost. Of lives and maintenance.

He stayed silent, letting Perry discuss the finer points of how well or not well the unloading of Dust from the train was going. Instead, his attention was focused on his own weapon. His chainsaw was dismantled before him, the dust and the following dismembering of the spider droid with the help of more dust had seen the chain fly off the train to god only knows well. Now, he was stuck replacing the thing as he and Perry discussed the operation. Or as he was calming to believe, covering the excuses for why he didn't murder every non-robot on the train.

"I am not challenging you on your decision." Perry said hesitantly, clearly trying to not insult him as the smaller man pieced together how to say his piece. "But are you sure it was necessary for you to order the front half of the train disconnected?"

To be honest, if he was a butchering terrorist who was lashing out, it might have been a good question; but he wasn't. Not anymore, at least. "I did not have the men to continue on. We managed to deal with one spider droid, but if we ran into another one there wasn't a guarantee we could have dealt with it." His hands worked to place the new chains onto his chainsaw, carefully making sure to place it properly but he was well enough acquainted with it that he could do it in his sleep. "Better to just let the crew go then risk another engagement and lose the entire train."

For a moment it looked like Perry would argue the point, before sighing. After a few moments of thinking, the second in charge started nodding his head. "You're right. We don't have Adam here to brute force such a thing. Better to take most of the train." That, he didn't take offense to either. Adam was a bit of a monster.

He grunted as he put the chainsaw back together, new teeth and all.

"We're going to be understrength until he returns." And wasn't that going to be either the greatest or worst thing when that happens. "I might be capable of holding my own, I'm no Adam. We'll need to account for it, we expected to have Adam for this, and it shows." He nodded to his own state, the scorch marks on his vest still prominent. He didn't know why his aura didn't protect that, but he didn't even know he had it. It was certainly doing its job, protecting him from dying twice, but however far that went he didn't know. "If nothing else, we should pick softer targets."

"labor camps?" Perry mused, tapping their chin, as they looked towards the map of Vale. "I can reach out to our contacts, see if the SDC has expanded anywhere in kingdom recently. It would be good to gather recruits, the White Fang can't stay innocuous for too long-"

"Then, perhaps I might offer a solution?"

Perry pulled out his dagger while the throttle of the chainsaw roared to life, each of them looking towards the entrance- The guardless entrance. Two white uniformed bodies motionless on the ground, and neither of them having heard a thing.

The woman had two swords resting on her lower back, her golden eyes and dark hair perfectly stylized, and the short red dress screamed huntress. She didn't seem even slightly threatened by either of them, and the way the green and silver haired lackeys stood easily enough behind her, showed all three's confidence.

He could only growl at his horrendous… Memory? Decisions? Choices?! He cursed each and everyone.

Cinder Fall had come, for the second time, to parley.



AN:
This one was a real dozy, and pretty lengthy. I did not intend that (fully). I attempted to try and put the RWBY action sequence into writing, so feedback on it would be wonderful. I didn't have anyone to get opinions on. I spent so much time just going frame by frame on multiple fight scenes, good fun.

Small reminder, Not meant to be a masterwork, just a test in diligence.

Join this Server! Where you can yell at me in real time how much you love or hated this fic. Or can see me curse the act of writing something now a DnD campaign. There'll be lots of that.

Still looking for a Beta, assuming this goes the Distance.