5,207Opening her eyes, Summer stared at the ceiling of a dull metal room while listening to the hum of industrialized machinery around her. The monotone drawl had become a constant occurrence in her daily routine, and it never got better.
-Steel in place of wood.
-A cold room devoid of character for a warm and inviting home.
It was the end of an era, and a harold of the changing times. The age of hardship was upon Remnant, one denoted by a looming apocalypse that no shadow war had any hope of concealing. One need only look at the revised map of Remnant, and the red flags that surrounded the fallen Kingdom of Vale to understand that the world was approaching an End Game.
A long sigh escaped Summer's mouth, a hand pressed over the bridge of her nose. Gradually, she rubbed her eyes, and then sat up with her legs hanging off the edge of the bed. A feeling of weariness assailed her like no other, causing her to feel weak and lethargic. Regardless, there was no rest to be had.
For a long moment, she stared at her hands, and then to her reflection on a bedside dresser where a mirror revealed her normal complexion. What had one been pale and running with angry red veins had returned to their ordinary hue: Ruddy and supple skin; the kind she had not believed she'd be able to see again.
But at what cost?
It was her fault.
Summer's gut sank, a nauseating pit forming in her stomach as she thought back to the moment she woke up and discovered she'd been cured of her affliction. Tai had been there every step of the way while Qrow leisurely stood with his arms crossed and back pressed to a wall. Then there was Raven who didn't stay behind, but awkwardly left a basket of fruit and flowers at her bedside.
Neither Ruby or Yang were around, but not through any fault of their own. Neither of the girls had been in any state to be present. Rather, if they had come, there would have been no way to handle the delicate issue of 'how' Summer had been cured. Yang was having issues with her fluctuating emotions and the corresponding maiden power that reacted with it, and Ruby would have burst out crying.
Tai wasn't taking any chances. Even though Summer was supposedly cured, no one knew her current mental state until she woke up. It wasn't worth the risk to have Ruby and Yang see their mother in a state outside of her own control.
Yang had still been shaken up about everything, and the gap between relief in saving Summer, and Archer's loss was too much. Resentment had to be directed somewhere, and James ended up on the brunt end of it all. All of it.
A commotion supposedly occurred when the news of Archer's condition reached the other members of the Rose Mercenaries, but even now, no one would elaborate for Summer. All that she knew was that the mercenaries went their separate ways. They didn't disband, but there was no longer a unifying figure to gather them all together.
Summer had already tried.
What a mess.
Everything was a mess even after three years had passed.
Standing up, Summer walked towards an open window and stared at a land covered with freshly fallen snow. The bitter chill of winter could not be easily contained even with heating and insulation.
The skies were a murky grey; dark clouds over the horizon despite the morning hours looming.
Shirou…that guy.
The guilt she knew she'd never get over continued to assail Summer. Were there things she could have done differently, or would things have turned out better if she'd never been selfish? Ultimately, it had been her choice.
She knew the danger she herself posed if she lost control, but the pressing situation had made even her precautions meaningless if everything she cared for was taken away.
Drowning, desperately…she had needed a hero.
And a Hero answered.
Not the one she wanted, but one that was needed without hesitation. One that never left things to chance. No, Shirou wasn't the sort to do that considering the stories he'd shared about a man named EMIYA, and the similarities they shared.
Summer could not help but think back to the meaning of the Command Spell her youngest daughter still possessed.
She knew just as well as her daughter what it represented:
A failsafe, one that was guaranteed to work. Therefore, it boded a question with an answer Summer already knew.
Did he plan this all along?
To tell others, or not to tell?
If Ruby, Yang, and everybody Summer held dear were to die in this war, Summer could not readily promise to withhold certain measures off of the table.
One life versus many.
Summer pictured her youngest daughter's face, and then shuddered. A mother's love, a huntress's duty, and the will of a hero, the weight was unbearable.
Staring at the falling snow within an Atlas Bullhead, Summer pursed her lips, got herself dressed, and headed out of the room.
An elite unit of Huntsmen and Huntresses trekked through the urban wreckage around the perimeter of Vale. Buildings lay in ruin, and moss blanketed the area in a crawling green amid the ruins.
An armoured boot pressed deeply into the dirt, crushing an ashened piece of debris brittle from a fire that had charred the area black a whole year ago. This was the devastation merely at the perimeter of the Fallen Kingdom. The worst was further within, deep where the Grimm congregated around a barren hill of swords and the figure chained and bound atop.
The zoomed aim of a scope scanned the distant horizon, but was unable to see past a group of flying Nevermores that perched on the remains of a wall.
"Any luck?" A voice asked through an intercom.
"Funny," the man grunted at the radio. Luck was all the man had in spades. It was his very Semblance.
He wore a white uniform emblazoned with the symbol of Atlas. On his head, he had a hood pulled over his hair, and his lower face was covered by a protective face mask. The toxic fumes produced from burning tar and chemical reactions from faded fires still remained in the vicinity.
"Just be careful," the voice continued to speak from an earbud hung around the man's ear lobe. "The reconnaissance mission is not intended for you to lose your life, and luck can run out."
The man opened his mouth to respond, but soon closed it before hurriedly pressing his body to the dirt and rolling behind cover.
The earth rumbled beneath his feet, causing goosebumps to rise over the man's skin. Carefully, he held his breath and waited for a pack of Grimm to walk past. At the forefront, an armoured Beowulf was carefully sniffing the air with its snout.
Luckily, the man's scent was down wind, and the Beowulf continued on with its pack. However, that wasn't what caused the man to be on edge. Rather, it was cargo the Grimm were carrying.
Taking out a scope, the man observed the group's movement patterns with blood shot eyes.
Humans and Faunus alike were being transported. Bruised, battered, and barely breathing, the group of Grimm haphazardly threw them on the ground before a specific Grimm rose up from the shadows like a dark veil.
'There it was.'
That fucking thing. Reports stated that it alone carried the single-highest ratio of death to encounter of any Grimm. Over three-quarters of Vale's population fell to that bastard, and even now- even now!
The Grimm Shadow stretched and swallowed the humans and faunus laid out in tribute. It wasn't the first time.
Over the course of the last three years, that same Grimm Shadow had reportedly raided numerous small towns and communities, turning them all into ghost towns.
"Target sighted," the man whispered into the intercom. "It's confirmed, the Shadow remains guarding Vale."
"Do not engage." The intercom responded back immediately, but the undertone of worry was unmistakable. "If it's no longer leaving Vale, does that mean we're running out of time?"
The man, a special operative of Atlas, could not answer. The Grimm Shadow had been tormenting Remnant with its elusive activities for years, killing many on an apocalyptic scale. Killing it was a number one priority, but for it to no longer leave Vale…that was concerning.
Everyone knew who remained in Vale fighting against the encroaching darkness on his own.
Prior reports compiled about the past, stated that the Grimm Shadow was almost always with a figure known as the Cursed Arm. A blackened Hero. In that case, was it staying in Vale because 'that' Hero was close to fully blackening?
The Atlas operative gnashed his teeth, his jaw clenching. Subconsciously, the man aimed a rifle, but as if luck were playing a game, he caught himself.
Bullets were useless against the bastard. Only magic had any sort of effect. A kill team had been made already led by the Branwen siblings, but the Shadow always retreated before an encounter.
It was only after every human and faunus was swallowed by the shadows that the Grimm Shadow faded away in motes of black light.
The Atlas operative, Clover, let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.
"Ace Operative, Clover reporting in." The operative whispered. "The Shadow has retreated."
"What of the other objective?" A voice asked from the intercom. "Can you sneak past the Grimm on the perimeter and assess the situation within Vale?"
Clover sucked a breath, expression growing haggard.
"No chance." He said. "The Grimm are too numerous for such half-hearted attempts, and now that it's confirmed that the Shadow is in Vale, going alone is suicide."
"..."
"Fall back," Winter ordered through the intercom. "It's not worth losing your life just to test the waters. The report will be invaluable for the Allied Kingdoms and the war effort."
Clover hesitated, but quickly departed the perimeter of the fallen kingdom now haunted by numerous Grimm.
The objective, the method to claim victory, had been made clear to all, and yet…
Just reaching that Hill was unimaginable to him.
He could not imagine the stress of his superiors.
It had been three long years. Dark years where it felt as if extinction was inevitable.
When pushed to a corner, men will rise.
That hope was the only solace.
The survivors of Vale had taken refuge in the cold snowy peaks of Atlas where the danger of Grimm was at its all time lowest. As if of one mind, practically every Grimm lingering on Remnant made a voyage to the fallen kingdom of Vale. The other areas began to grow scarce of Grimm, but it wasn't without side effects. The Grimm Shadow appeared in their place, striking continuously until suddenly vanishing in the last half a year.
The confirmation that the Grimm Shadow was now lingering in Vale was a harrowing sign.
In an Atlas general meeting and assembly building, Summer was making her way through an inner sanctum on route for a discussion with Ironwood and Ozpin. Ironwood had already alleviated the concerns of troublesome councilmen, and now the real talk would begin.
Devising strategies with people who did not know the full ramifications of what they were dealing with was useless. What the adults were doing now was buying time for the next generation to properly mature. It was all Summer could do to atone for the hardships everyone was now going through.
She was well aware that none of this would have happened had Tai, Qrow, Ozpin, Raven, or Ironwood had just killed her before Archer had intervened. She would have whole-heartedly approved it if it meant saving everyone from this grief.
Walking through the vacant halls, Summer listened to the muttering of other council members, and their ranting about further funding from the Schnee corporation as a war-time measure. Their Dust supplies and manufacturing hubs were vital in maintaining both equipment and utilities.
However, commerce was built on the principle of stability and order. Without it, money itself refuses to circulate and loses its function as a whole.
The Schnee could talk on the issue however long they wished, but now wasn't the time.
Arriving in front of the designated room, Summer realized she was the last of her comrades to make an appearance.
Summer silently nodded at Tai and Qrow before acknowledging Raven's presence with a mixed hum. Relationships and grudges had long since mellowed out in the face of hardship and grief.
No words needed to be said.
Summer walked right into the room and greeted the people already waiting within.
"Ozpin, Ironwood," Summer said.
"I take it you've already heard the news gathered by James's Ace Operatives?" Ozpin asked, a finger pushing up the bridge of his wire-frame glasses.
"The Shadow is in Vale," Summer nodded, taking a seat across from Ozpin and James while the rest of her former team took seats around her.
"Slimy bastard," Raven grimaced, arms crossed at the mention of the Grimm Shadow.
Qrow didn't even bother picking on Raven's failures. The situation was too dire to make light of anything anymore.
Places change, people become shittier, gloomier, and those that remain are left to pick the pieces.
Silence stretched before Ozpin cleared his throat.
"How are your daughters?" Ozpin asked Tai. In particular, his interest stemmed primarily on Yang.
"Same as before." Tai grumbled, expression downcast and weary. "One brooding, the other pummeling a picture of Atlas's only general."
Ironwood didn't bat an eye. If anything, a glint of sorrow crossed his face before it was replaced with the mettle of a General who did what he had to do.
"The children will take time to adjust." Ozpin could only drop the matter. "They're working harder than most, and your role is to make sure they don't push themselves beyond their capabilities."
"I still think we should leave the children out of this," Tai grimaced. "The weight is too much on them. Many aren't the same since that day three years ago."
"Nothing is the same as three years ago." Qrow grumbled. "But you playing house with a 'witch,' is definitely something worth exploring."
"Now must be a time of unity and cooperation." Ozpin interjected, pointedly ignoring the topic Qrow tried to bring up. "The objective has never been more clear, but so too is human cowardice and greed. We must strike while that hero's sanity remains, and yet we're too caught up in our own politics and grudges to work wholeheartedly with one another."
"An Alliance of the remaining kingdoms, and none but us are willing to step forward to act as a vanguard, or facilitate a chain of command for a standing army. We must breach Vale by any means, or risk facing a battle far worse than anything we can ever imagine if the Huntsman of Red is fully blackened."
"Fear is contagious. We cannot blame them completely." James said, speaking up while recalling the numerous diplomatic meetings he'd attended as Atlas's representative. "Vermillion is stubborn, Haven is indecisive, Menagerie is passive, and Atlas is complacent. What we need is power to break through the armies of Grimm surrounding Vale. Only then will there be a chance to win while the Huntsman of Red still retains sanity."
"And to that end, people are flocking to those entrusted with the future." Ozpin said, clicking a button on the desk and producing a hologram at the center of the table. Statistic data was displayed to the left. "Many flock to Mr. Arc, while others hone their skill with the weapons and lessons Archer passed down in death."
"Not good enough," James interjected. "We cannot rely on the young for everything. We need countermeasures in case the Huntsman of Red fall's completely, or if they lack the resolve to do what must be done. The Relics Ozpin. We must gather them in the worst case."
"..." Ozpin was not quick to answer, but pressured by James's glare, he nodded in the end. "How are preparations for the assault teams?"
"Underway." James said bluntly.
"We will begin preparations for war." Ozpin said grimly.
"How soon?" Summer asked, Raven, Qrow, and Tai perking up their ears.
"A single month, and no later. The children must harden their resolve before then, and James, you must work through the political maneuverings of our allies. We'll only have one chance. We must make it count."
The Grimm Shadow's presence in Vale did not bode well.
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