"We have to go after him," Rojoe demanded.
Team GREY stood outside the operations room. Soon after Daniel stole the fighter, General Ironwood had finally arrived. He received a status report from the team, authorized the remaining fighters to scramble, and then promptly kicked the team out. They had protested, and Ironwood refused. This had become an international incident with a rogue element out of his control. There could be no confusion of who was in charge, no conflicting orders. And so they were removed, thrown from the darkened room like they were little more than accidental intruders. Most of team GREY had resolved to follow in Daniel's footsteps and provide backup. Greeve had a different plan.
"General Ironwood was explicitly clear we are not to do anything," Greeve said. "We're to remain here until the operation is over."
"We, aren't in charge anymore," Ebon said. "There is nothing stopping us from going to rescue him."
"Except that General Ironwood forbade us from joining the rescue operation," Greeve countered. "He thinks we might let Daniel escape."
"We would never do that," Rojoe protested.
"Speak for yourself Ro," Yarrow said.
"Yarrow," Greeve raised a warning finger, "you are going in to some dangerous territory here."
"Really? Am I?" Yarrow asked. He took a step forward and got nose to nose with Greeve. "If we were out there and Ironwood told you not to come after us, would you sit on your ass and follow orders?"
"That's not the question here," Greeve said.
"The hell it isn't."
"Daniel stole a jet, assaulted an officer, and disobeyed direct orders. He made it clear he isn't part of the team anymore."
Yarrow stepped back and scoffed. "And? Is that it? I've done way worse and you turned a blind eye for the sake of the mission. What makes Daniel different?"
"We're not on a mission—"
"Because you won't let us go after him," Yarrow interrupted. "Now answer the damn question."
Greeve glanced away, unable to make eye contact with Yarrow. His clenched fists trembled and he took a shuddering breath.
"You wouldn't do it," Yarrow said. "I can't believe it. I thought we meant more than that to you."
"And I thought I told you about Clay in confidence!" Greeve roared.
Rojoe and Ebon shrunk back at Greeve's outburst. After everything that had happened, the fact they'd told Daniel about Greeve's brother had left their mind. But now it was back. And there was nothing they could do to erase the look of betrayal on Greeve's face.
"Do you, have any idea how hard I've tried to keep that a secret?" Greeve asked. "What I've done so no one else knows?"
"Greeve, I'm sorry we told Daniel about your brother," Rojoe began.
"No." Yarrow said.
"Yarrow," Ebon cautioned.
"Shove it Ebon," Yarrow was shooting daggers at Greeve. "You pathetic excuse of a leader. You're gonna abandon him over that? You're so scared the world will know you killed your brother that—"
The fist came at Yarrow like lightning. His head knocked back and he stumbled in to Ebon. He shoved his teammate to the side and pulled out his battle axes. Yarrow surged forwards and struck Greeve in the gut. Before either could continue, Ebon and Rojoe grabbed Yarrow and Greeve. They wrenched the flailing teammates apart and dragged them to opposite sides of the hall. Rojoe turned Greeve around and pushed him against the wall by his shoulders. "Stop this Greeve," she said. "Just let us help Daniel, please. I—"
SLAP
The terrible sound stopped all struggling. Rojoe's head snapped to the side. Strength left her legs as she fell to her knees. She didn't cry out, she was too stunned. A hand raised to cup her cheek came away bloody. Three red lines ran from her jaw to right below her left eye. Blood welled from the gashes and dripped from her face onto the white epaulets of her pristine Atlas uniform.
Greeve stared at his hand, disbelieving what he saw. The wires on Haunted Toll had unraveled at the tips of his fingers. Crimson stained their surfaces. He glanced at Rojoe and, seeing the shocked look in her eyes looked instead to Ebon and Yarrow. The look of betrayal now sat on their faces, not his. He opened his mouth, he had to say something. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it. I want to go after Daniel but can't. And I can't let you.
But nothing came.
Greeve took a step backwards. Then another. Then he was running down the hallway, escaping from the destruction he had wrought. He expected any moment for Yarrow, Ebon, or even Rojoe to come barreling after him. He dove in to the crowded lobby and forced his way through the throng. Anyone in his way he shoved to the ground. He wrenched the front doors open and flew down the stairs. Ice caked the last step and he tumbled in to the snow.
Greeve pulled himself free and looked down at Haunted Toll. The form fitting weapon was one of his greatest creations. He had poured thousands of hours in to making it perfect. He hardly ever took it off, it was as much a part of him as any other appendage. But as he looked at the drying blood, the only thing he could think about was how much he wanted to be away from it. His hands scrabbled at the back until he found purchase. The offending glove landed in the snow without sound, soon followed by its twin. Greeve grabbed his hair with his bare hands and curled in to a fetal position.
After what felt like an eternity, Greeve's Scroll buzzed. He didn't want to pull it out. As freezing as the snow was against his exposed flesh, doing nothing was preferable to dealing with anyone right now. And yet an incessant voice in the back of his head told him to accept the call. Reluctantly, Greeve snaked his hand through the snow and pulled his Scroll free. It would be the last time he ever listened to voices.
"Oh gods," Greeve whimpered as he read the number. The last puzzle piece of today's nightmare fell neatly in to place. And the final picture terrified Greeve.
Any chance of team LSTRDLN escaping the Grimm horde had ended when Scrapmetal crashed. As the stunned and shaken passengers crawled from the wreckage, the Grimm had been on them in an instant. The only reason they had avoided being immediately devoured was Ryler. Thinking quickly, he had scattered seeds through the clearing and created a thick wall of hedgerows. Towering five meters above the ground, the Grimm were stopped in their tracks. His impromptu encirclement was not without cost, however. The action took every last drop of Ryler's remaining Aura. The rest of the team were equally bruised and battered, their reserves almost depleted as well. The worst off, was Dakota. Landing headfirst on the frozen ground, he had come off with a fractured skull. While the rest of the team regrouped and tried to salvage what they could from Scrapmetal, Lewis and Nick crouched over their fallen friend, administering first aid.
The hedgerow shuddered against the latest onslaught of blows. On instinct, Nick bent over his fallen teammate to shield him from any debris. Dakota's head rested in his lap, his chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. Lewis wrapped his head in bandages with as much care as he could, but he couldn't keep Dakota from the moaning in pain every so often.
"Lewis, how's your Aura holding?" Nick asked.
Lewis glanced back at the hedgerow as the Grimm growled behind it. Nick grabbed him by the jaw and turned his face back. "This ain't the time to lose focus Lewis, how's your Aura?"
It took several deep breaths before Lewis answered. "Not too good man. I think I'm better off than you, but I don't have much left in me. I can't fly us to Atlas if that's what you're thinking."
"You don't need to. There seemed to be some sort of wreckage on the other side of this clearing, Nick said. "I got a good look before the Grimm caught up. If those bushes fall, do you think you could get Dakota up there?"
Lewis thought for a minute. "Yeah, I think so. But the Grimm would still come after me."
"Not if they've got a bigger target," Nick said. "What's two huntsmen's emotions to five others clustered in a group."
Nick's comment confused Lewis for a moment. Then, his eyes widened as the implications hit him. "I can't leave you guys alone," he protested, "You'll be killed!"
A plume of dirt and snow burst on the other side of the hedgerows. Nick saw a section creak and bend ominously. "No we won't," Nick assured Lewis, "Bunch of Grimm ain't gonna get us. But we'd work a lot better if we didn't have to watch out for Dakota." He pulled off his jacket, ignoring the cold that blew straight through his checkered button-down shirt. Careful not to disturb Dakota's head, he folded the jacket and replaced his lap with it. He stood and pulled his weapon out. "Get ready to move, you hear? I ain't too sure how much longer this wall will hold."
Lewis tried to say something, but a roar distracted both of them. The Grimm had forced a small gap through the hedgerows and a Beowolf was squirming its way through. Without hesitation, Nick lined up and killed the beast with one shot. The momentary breach was enough to convince Lewis. He nodded and slung his guitar around to the front, ready to move his teammate at a moment's notice. Satisfied that Dakota was safe, Nick ran over to team LSTR. They had given up their salvage operation and were getting ready for a fight.
"Anything useful?" Nick asked as he approached.
"Scrap metal from Scrapmetal," Schatten answered with a humorless chuckle. Lunare thinks he can get the cannon running again, but I don't think we have that kind of time."
"If anyone can do it, it's Lunare," Nick said. "How're you four doing? Didn't get the chance to ask since we crashed."
"Ryler's spent, Tiberius lost a chakram in the crash, and I'm running on fumes," Schatten said. "Lunare's using his semblance to get the gun working, so pretty soon he'll be out too. You?"
"I got enough to pacify a pack of Beowolves, or one big one. I'd like to save it for a special occasion though."
Schatten nodded. "My pack powers can give us a boost for a while but," he sighed, exhaling a cloudy vapor, "I think you and I are on containment duty."
Nick shook his head. "What I wouldn't give for some air cover right about now."
The ground beneath the two darkened as a figure blotted out the sun. Nick and Schatten looked up to see a winged shape hovering above. It let out a guttural roar and an orange glow emanated from its mouth.
"Manticore!" Schatten yelled. Everyone who could stand stopped what they were doing and focused on the Grimm. The fireball streaked from its mouth and impacted against Scrapmetal. Flames rolled over the body as everyone dove out of the way. Nick was up first, fanning the hammer to his revolver. Bullets poked holes its wings and the monster roared in pain. A sick squelch of metal against flesh accompanied Royal Pain as it severed a wing from the body. The Grimm collapsed to the ground in a heap as Tiberius' remaining chakram returned to his hand.
Lunare let out an indignant shriek and charged the wounded Grimm as it struggled to its feet. Bullets spat from the barrel of Neih Mehr and peppered the Manticore until it was riddled with holes. He thrust a blade in to the monster's underside and it howled in pain. The Manticore's legs gave out, and it collapsed on top of Lunare. Muted reports emanated from underneath as bullets burst from its back.
Schatten and Nick raced over to the side of the beast and tried to push it off of Lunare. It was no use. Even with their combined strength, the body refused to move. It seemed as if Nieh Mehr had it staked to the ground. To make matters worse, the dying Grimm was charging a final fireball attack. In desperation, Schatten stabbed Blast Shard's claws in to the Grimm's side. At the same time, several lengths of blade burst from the Manticore's side. They sliced downwards and created a slit that Lunare pulled himself through.
"-bloody fracking Grimm burning my Scrapmetal," Lunare complained as he pulled himself free. He turned and stabbed the blades on his forearms in to the Manticore's side. Electricity coursed through them and the Manticore convulsed in pain. It shut its massive jaw before the fireball could launch. Smoke poured from its nose briefly, then the head burst in a fiery explosion. The rest of the body soon disintegrated, coating the trio in dissolving Grimm matter.
"You okay boss?" Schatten asked.
Luanre pulled his glasses off and tried to wipe them clean of Grimm essence. "That's the second time today I've been coated in some black substance. Normally I wouldn't mind, but today seems to be an exception." The blades retracted in to his Corabellum armor, and he retrieved Nieh Mehr from the ground. "How go things with you two?" Lunare asked.
"I told Lewis to move Dakota when the wall falls," Nick said.
"Splendid," Lunare said, sarcasm strong in his voice.
"How's Scrapmetal doing?" Schatten asked.
Lunare glanced at the smoldering wreckage. "Anything of use went up with the fireball I'm afraid. She'll need a complete overhaul before she drives again. I wonder if—" Lunare paused and cocked an ear to the side. "Do you hear that?"
Schatten and Nick followed suit. A low rumble in the distance brought chills to the two.
"More Grimm?" Nick asked.
"Those are engines." Schatten looked over at Nick, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
The rumble grew to a roar, alerting those still able to stand. A lone airship howled over the tree line. It passed to the other side of the clearing, then banked hard to turn around. Ryler whooped and cheered as the cannons in the nose lit up. Bullets peppered the ground outside the wall and the Grimm bellowed as the rounds struck home. The fighter continued its run until its belly was scraping the trees, only pulling up at the last second. It streaked high in to the sky, already turning for another pass.
"Yes!" Tiberius shouted in an uncharacteristic display of emotion that wasn't disdain. "That's the might of Atlas for you!"
"He did it! He actually came!" Lewis cried.
"Of course they came, Lewis, why wouldn't they—" Tiberius ducked as the fighter made a low pass over the clearing. Nick was certain one of the taller trees lost a foot off the top. Fireballs streaked from the ground and the fighter made an awkward turn to avoid them.
"Whoever this pilot is, he doesn't seem that experienced," Lunare remarked.
"That could be a monkey up there for all I care," Schatten said. "He's keeping the Grimm away from us."
As the pilot lined up another strike, Nick heard Lewis talking to someone in a concerned tone. Before he could turn, a weak hand gripped his shoulder. Dakota stood on shaking legs, his eyes hazy and unfocused.
"Dakota, what in Sam hell are you doing up?" Nick asked. He shot Lewis a disgruntled look.
"Sorry man, he got up when I wasn't looking," Lewis said. "I tried to stop him, but he got away."
Nick took Dakota's arm and slung it over his shoulder. "Dakota, can you sit down for me?" he prodded gently.
"What, what's happening?" Dakota asked. "Are we fighting?"
"Yes, but your part is over," Nick said. "You've got yourself a skull fracture."
Dakota looked at Nick blankly. "Oh. Is that way everything is so loud?"
"No Dakota, that would be the—" Nick stopped and glanced around. "Actually, that's exactly what it is. Why don't you sit down and rest a while?"
"Sounds good." Dakota reached up to prod his bandages. Nick slapped his hand away, then gently forced Dakota to the ground. When Dakota didn't get back up again, he stood and watched the fighter line up once more. Unlike the last two runs, the Grimm were ready for the attack. Fireballs flashed past the fighter's sides, scorching the wings. The fire scared the pilot and the fighter pulled up early, ending his attack run before it even began.
It was a mistake. Fire burst against the exposed belly, setting the fuselage ablaze. Another blast broke a wing off. The fighter rolled over and careened toward the ground. At the last moment, the canopy blew off and the seated pilot rocketed from the cockpit. The pilot's chair skipped through the snow before coming to rest on its side. A moment later, the fighter crashed through the hedgerows and burst in to flames.
Nick stood up from sheltering Dakota from debris and hurried to the pilot struggling with his harness. The straps broke apart with a snap and the pilot clambered out of the seat.
"You alright sir?" Nick asked.
Beneath the tinted visor, the pilot gazed at him for a period Nick felt longer than necessary. Air whooshed from a severed air hose at an accelerated pace and Nick became concerned the pilot might hyperventilate. Finally, they reached up and unbuckled the helmet, pulling it free of cropped red hair and a frightened face.
No one dared to speak. The day had taken plenty of unexpected twists, but this was the last anyone expected. And yet, Daniel was standing in front of them; same uniform as yesterday, same frightened face. But though he still carried himself with an air of apprehension, he stood straighter than before. Whatever had happened between then and now, he seemed to have gotten something off of his back.
Dakota was the first to break the silence. Pushing himself to a standing position, he asked in a slow voice "Daniel?"
Daniel's eyes darted between his friends. "Guys, I am so sorry for everything that I've done. I should've never left Beacon, I should've never left." His eyes landed on Dakota and he ran over. "Dakota! What happened?"
"Skull, what was it?" Dakota looked at nick for the word.
"Skull fracture," Nick supplied. "He took a hit but'll be alright."
The assurances fell on deaf ears. "This is my fault, I should've left sooner, flown faster, someth— gaack"
Lewis had rushed Daniel, wrapping him in a hug tight enough to crush a leviathan to a pulp. Daniel's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, air coming in brief gasps. Trying to tap out didn't work either, as Lewis refused to let go.
"I knew you'd come back man!" Lewis cried. "I knew you wouldn't leave us forever."
"Lewis, can't breathe." Daniel managed to loosen Lewis' iron grip enough to catch a gulp of air. "Can you, let go of me?"
"Shut up, I'm still mad at you for leaving." Lewis' grip tightened and the rest of Daniel's oxygen rushed from his lungs. In his struggle, Daniel's flailing legs came close to Dakota's head. Motion returned to Nick's frozen limbs, and he broke the two apart.
"If you don't mind me asking, what the hell are you doing here?" Nick asked.
"Ironwood was in a call and they couldn't send anyone without him."
The news elicited groans from the group. It was not the news they wanted to hear.
"But you're here," Ryler said. "The others can't be far behind."
Daniel winced. "Maybe, but that's probably because they want to arrest me. I did steal that fighter from them."
"You stole Atlas military hardware?" Tiberius asked. The offended look on his face would have been funny had their situation been less dire.
"Well, yeah, but no one else was going! You needed my help!"
Tiberius spoke, but whatever he said was lost in a loud crackling. The flaming hedgerows that the fighter had crashed through were collapsing. On the other side, the blood red eyes of the Grimm.
Daniel kicked the ejection chair over and grabbed his sword. "Okay, eight against fifty. We can do this."
"Seven," Nick said. "Dakota's in no shape to fight."
Daniel shot a concerned glance at his sitting friend and opened his mouth to say something. Nick stopped him. "Focus. You got any extra firepower? Even in your ride?"
"Yarrow never taught me to raid the armory."
"And you're sure Atlas won't send us anything else?" Schatten asked.
"Not for another fifteen at least. Their airships didn't have any bombs or anything on them."
"So let me get this straight," Tiberius said. "You have no extra weapons, and no hope of rescue for the next fifteen minutes? Is there anything you brought with you?"
"Besides the momentary close air support," Lunare said.
Tiberius blanched. "Well, yes. Besides the close air support.
Daniel glanced at team LSTR. He glanced at the rest of team DDLN. For once, their roles were reversed. He unholstered his pistol and twirled his sword through the air. "I did bring Atlas' finest Aura generator and a full charge. Guess that puts me on point for once."
ns 15.158.61.48da2
