Howdy folks, how's it going?

It is honestly fortunate that this is my writing weekend, there would be no way I'd be able to get anything done with how busy I'll be on the next one. It's always a relief when the schedule lines up like that.

Anyway, as always, shout out to Chaos Productions for his help.

And as always, I own neither RWBY nor TES.

Enjoy!

/

For the first time in years, sunlight managed to pierce through the darkness beneath the ground, a single focus of brightness breaking through the crumbling rock and soil and earth to shine on the massive, cavernous depths beneath, shining upon a desolation that most who knew of would rather forget.

The light revealed rows upon rows of buildings, some so large they could almost hit the ceiling of the cavern, a vast majority of them, besides the obvious age and disrepair, looking unfinished, a testament to a dream for a better life that had so swiftly and disastrously turned into a nightmare. A hope that had become a tomb, such was the fate of Mountain Glenn, and not a trace of those that had fallen with it remained.

But still, amidst the stillness and the darkness, there was activity, and not all of it was done by monsters.

Two hooded figures, riffles in hand and white masks over their faces, reached up to the roof of one of the myriad ruins of this collective grave, assessing their surroundings with eyes to which the total darkness hadn't been an impediment.

"Damn, seems like the ceiling of this shithole's finally giving in." One of them commented with a low whistle as he stared up at the first glimpse of the sky they'd seen in weeks. "Lucky thing the debris didn't hit any building we're occupying. Can't wait to be done with this place…"

"Tell me about it…" His companion replied with an understanding nod. "This is probably the last patrol we're gonna be doing with all the preparations nearly done, but it still needs doing. Seems like the collapse didn't draw in any Grimm though, which is also lucky. Last thing we need right now is unwanted attention."

"Little too late for that, I'm afraid."

The two sentinels needed a moment to register the third voice intruding on their chat and react, but that was a moment too many, as it was ample time for a red blur to relieve them of their weapons and two blows to the back of the head to knock them out cold.

"Welp, guess we found the White Fang." Yang commented, idly shaking her hand from where she stood, just behind one of the fallen crooks, even as her partner was checking them both for any hidden weapons and binding them. "The rest of the bunch can't be too far from here, right?"

"Right." Blake confirmed, staring down at the grunts with unhappy recognition. "And we have to find them swiftly. They'll grow suspicious, if they aren't already, when these two fail to report or return from patrol."

"Well, in that case, we should probably look for the train terminal," Ruby opined, as she looked down into the empty streets below. "I mean, it's the only way they could possibly transport the dust payload into the city for a breach. Blake, Tristard, can you two pick up anything?"

Without another word, the faunus and the dragonborn joined their team leader at the edge of the roof, keen faunus eyes and whispered draconic words searching the depths.

"Tristard, over there," Blake instructed, pointing towards a spot at the edge of the cave, where the light didn't reach and human eyes couldn't pierce. "It's kinda far to be certain, but I see movement in that direction."

"Aye, it's just about at the edge of my range, but there are definitely flickers of activity that way. Movements are too organized to be Grimm." Tristard replied, throwing a brief glance up at the hole they had jumped down (or in his case, carried into), seeing the sun and judging its position. "That's the direction of Vale, so it fits."

"Nicely done. Lemme just check…" Qrow commented as he approached, and casually pully out an object from his belt, which the dragonborn recognized as a set of binoculars, blockier and yet sleeker than anything of the sort he'd ever seen, a green tone to the lenses, and aiming them in the pointed direction. "…Yep, that's them there. They're all over that train, looks like they're rushing to pack and leave, can't be too much longer before they set the thing in motion." Letting out an annoyed click, the man, turned towards one of the girls. "You, Penny, right? Get word out to the ship, we've got confirmation of the White Fang's location, and they need to get here and engage asap."

"I'm transmitting the coordinates as we speak, Sir." The girl replied, for once her tone lacking in cheer before the severity of the situation, the same severity that kept anyone from asking how exactly she was doing so. "They are mobilizing, and will be joining us down here in a few minutes at the latest. Fortunately the sinkhole's large enough to allow bullheads through."

"Good," The man replied with an approving nod. "Then our part in this is done, we should see to finding a way out and-"

He was interrupted by a sudden crack and a burst of static, which the group swiftly realized was coming from a radio strapped to one of the downed sentries.

"Jake, Marckus, what's your status?" A heavily garbled voice, one sounding entirely too much like some random civilian rather than a hardened terrorist, inquired through the communicator, and no one dared speak. "Jake, Marckus, respond… Jake, Marckus, you there? Oh, gods, don't tell me the Grimm got 'em… Look, guys, if you can hear me, make for the station, the lieutenant's getting impatient and we are just about ready to begin. We should be leaving in 5 minutes, tops, so please be here before that. Perry out."

As if to back up the words, as soon as the radio went silent, the darkest reaches of the cavern lit up, as what illumination infrastructure that had been left behind and survived the passage of time suddenly came to life, providing enough clarity to see the train in the distance, and the myriad figures all around it, moving like frenzied ants.

"…Fuck. If they turned on the lights, that means they must be getting ready to activate the railroad and get the train going. There ain't no way the Atlesians can arrive fast enough to stop the damn thing…" Qrow hissed, annoyed and frustrated as he glared into the distance, before looking over each of the students present, all knowing exactly what that meant, before sighing in resignation. "Guess we got no choice, then. Get ready, kids, we gotta delay that train."

/

"Uh, sir," A hesitant voice called out, as a white fang grunt, distinct from his peers due to the glasses worn over his mask, spoke up from within one of the trains many compartments, right next to a comm system. "Patrol isn't reporting in."

"Hhmm," The one being spoken too, a mountain of a man whose own mask covered his all face hummed in pondering acknowledgement. "Probably bumped into some Grimm we didn't clear out. How much longer for everything to be ready?"

"Just a little while longer," The grunt replied, sounding oddly sheepish about something. "I have to admit, having Torchwick here would've made things faster. He stole the blueprints that let us find the station and had the know how to get the system going, probably from all the smuggling he no doubt has done. The guys he taught to boot up the engine learned well enough, but they don't have his experience…"

And for a human who clearly didn't give a shit about the faunus and their plight, he was also surprisingly reasonable and easier to work with than the lieutenant (all this time working with this crew, and he didn't think anyone other than maybe Adam knew the guy's name…), not that the grunt would ever voice that thought out loud in present company.

"The human served his purpose." The lieutenant replied dismissively. "Adam wants us out of here yesterday, so tell the guys working the engine to hurry it up."

"And the patrol, sir…?" The grunt asked, clearly uncomfortable with the implications.

"Either they can link up with the skeleton crew left behind to finish clean up, or the Grimm got them and they died for the cause. Either way, we cannot afford to wait for them. Now get-"

The man's words were suddenly cut off by an explosion, making the grunt nearly jump as cries of shock and surprise rattled through the ranks.

"What was that?! Did someone mess up with the dust?!" The spectacled man cried out in a panic, but his superior's eyes just narrowed beneath the mask, a sinking suspicion blooming.

"No. Worse…" He growled in reply, darting towards the door of the compartment, eyes immediately scanning all over the dead city for…

There, in the distance but swiftly approaching, a group of running people, all of them bearing weapons. There was really only one possibility.

"Huntsmen. We've been made! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK! EVERYONE, TO YOUR STATIONS! DEFEND THE TRAIN! YOU ALL KNOW THE PLAN, WE LEAVE NOW!" The lieutenant called out, just as another a round of further explosions rang out from the interlopers opening fire, but his words were enough to rally the troops, the white fang grunts immediately taking their assigned positions.

Some rushed for the train, others for varied position arrayed all around it, taking up arms and manning a couple of gun emplacements that had been set up for just this sort of possibility. Within moments the White Fang was returning fire, but the ruined buildings provided plenty of cover for the huntsmen to approach in relative safety, their aura picking up the slack out in the open. Within moments they were close enough to hit the first make shift barricade his men had set up, and there the lieutenant could see the attackers clearly.

Teenagers, most of them. For a brief moment, the man felt almost insulted at the thought that Vale had sent children against them, but then he looked closer, and recognition set in.

The grown man among them would've been bad enough by himself. Even among the White Fang, Qrow Branwen's reputation as peerless fighter was feared, as could be plainly seen as he almost casually took down the whole squad at one of the gun emplacements, the weapon itself having him squarely in its sights but completely failing to fire, the man at the trigger crying out about some sort of jam.

But then there were the kids. The red cloaked brat, easily picking apart where their snipers had set up with her own long range riffle. The blonde, pummeling her way through some of the men that came rushing at her with their own melee weapons, soldiers whose training had been supervised by Adam himself. The redhead puppeteering floating blades, looking more like she was bloody dancing rather than tearing through his troops.

And even more than them, the unmistakable white hair anyone on the white fang would recognize, on the girl raining down fire and frost on their positions. The black blur, flitting this way and that almost like a shadow, only briefly slowing down enough to reveal a figure he knew well. And the robed, hooded man, squaring off against the only paladin they had deployed outside the train, and with a shoving motion of a glowing hand, pushing it to fall clumsily back into one of the makeshift trenches they had built, the pilot too incompetent (he knew they should've been pushed harder during training) to be able to wrestle the mech free.

The Schnee bitch. The traitor Belladonna. And the murderer Adam wanted dead.

This was the Beacon team that had been snooping around since all the way back at the docks. The team even that human Cinder had been looking into. No wonder she had failed to report and dare boss them around again, the stupid bitch had gotten herself caught and led them right here!

And as if that wasn't bad enough, the roar of engines made him look up. From the hole that had been opened on the ceiling, four bullhead started flying into the cave, one after the other. Atlesian make. Of course those bastards wouldn't be too far behind.

But amidst a swiftly worsening situation, there was yet a flicker of hope.

"Sir, engine room is reporting in." The grunt at the radio, reported, clearly trying and failing to stave off panic at their current situation. "The train is ready to go!"

"Then what the hell are you waiting for?! Tell them to get the damn thing started!"

And all across the battlefield, huntsmen and grunts alike turned towards the train, as with a loud klaxon alarm, almost bringing to mind a beast waking up with a roar, the train started slowly moving down into the dimly lit tunnel.

/

I did say the action was gonna start picking up.

Next time, a mad dash to try to stop the breach.

But before that, in two weeks we will return to 'Ere We Go, Pluz Ultra!, so look forward to that.

Cya all on the next one, stay safe and take care.