Hey guys
I'm uploading a day earlier than what I normally will be doing from here on out because today is a special, but somber, occasion.
Today is the one year anniversary of Monty Oum's passing. I remember when I heard the news how shocked I was. I knew that Monty was in critical condition, but I thought surely he wouldn't die. He couldn't die! He still had so much to do! Well, that's just the thing about death; It doesn't matter what you still have left to do. When it decides to take you, that's that.
Matt Hullum, who was the one to inform the community of Monty's passing asked that in lieu of flowers to do something creative with our imaginations. I immediately set to work editing the latest chapter of Heroes of Rune, which I had put off updating for a bit due to a bunch of projects at school. When I put the chapter out, I wrote a little spiel about what Monty meant to me, how his story inspired me to create something amazing and incredible. As I said at the beginning of that chapter, I am going to make you proud Monty.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Chapter 21.
Velvet had stopped struggling long ago, switching instead to mute shock, punctuated occasionally by muffled sobs. She had no idea how she had gotten here. One moment she was horribly lost once more in Beacon's corridors, the next she was strapped to a table with Professor Glas talking about dissecting her and two boys. It was too much to take in.
Dakota on the other hand, was dead silent. He didn't have time to make noise. He was too busy trying to grab the scalpel that Professor Glas had missed when he picked up the others. It lay in-between his right arm and his body. He had no idea what type of blade it had, but so long as it was Dust tipped he didn't care. It was just out of reach of his hand, but if he could just inch it a little bit further,,
Dakota gave a triumphant muffled shout as the handle of the scalpel came into contact with the palm of his hand. Velvet looked over in curiosity to see Dakota lift up a crimson bladed scalpel. She shouted something muffled at him. He could cut his bonds and free both of them!
But Dakota didn't cut at his bonds. Instead, he moved his grip to right below the blade, reversed the scalpel, and plunged it into his palm. Fire erupted from the wound and coursed up Dakota's arm, singing the sleeves of his hospital gown. The strap on his right arm was instantly melted, the synthetic material running down Dakota's arm, burning it. Dakota howled in pain and ripped the strap holding down his left arm free of the table. His left hand immediately went to his injured right arm, ripping the scalpel from his palm and flinging it away. The fire instantly died, plunging the room back into the dim twilight of the single lamp Professor Glas had left on for them. Velvet watched in shock as the boy before her lay on the table, nursing his burnt wrist, his breathing deep and slow.
It was several minutes before he finally leaned up and removed the straps on his legs before finally pulling the gag from his mouth. "God that hurts like a, damn" he said, looking at the ugly red burn on his wrist. "At least the strap didn't stick."
Gingerly, he twisted around on the table, and swung is feet to the ground. Instantly, his knees buckled, and he had to grab onto both his and Velvet's tables for support, the two tables swerving dangerously on their wheels. With his fall briefly halted, Dakota moved his left arm on Velvet's table and undid the strap on her right hand. She was then able to reach over to her left arm and began undoing her straps as well. Soon, both of them were free.
"Are you alright?" Velvet asked Dakota.
Dakota looked at her. "Yeah. I just need a second. Glas put something into me to stop my Semblance. The Dust from that knife is getting it out of me." At that moment, Dakota lurched forward and emptied whatever was still in his stomach onto the floor below.
"Your Semblance?" Velvet asked him, eying the expanding pool of vomit cautiously. It had tinges of red to it.
"Yeah," Dakota said hoarsely as he wiped his mouth. "I can take in a lot more Dust directly than most people. How much, I don't know. Just a hell of a lot more than anyone else I've met." He groaned and clutched his right arm, hissing in pain. "The only downside is, it hurts like hell going in, and I gotta use it all up, or it stays in me. Dust scraping down your veins is not a good feeling. Dakota Harding by the way," he said as he shakily stood back up. Carefully stepping over his vomit, Dakota opened a cabinet he'd seen Professor Glas store scalpels in, and was rewarded with an array of Dust scalpels. There were easily over a hundred, and just about every type of Dust was represented.
"Where are you going?" Velvet asked as Dakota began grabbing different scalpels from the cabinet.
"To find my pants," Dakota replied, rapidly wrapping bandages around his burnt wrist before dousing them with cold water from a sink. He then wrenched the long faucet neck from the fixture, spraying water everywhere. It wasn't his pipe, but it would do. "And to show Glas why this plan of his is a really big mistake."
Professor Glas was watching the monitors displaying the events of the hallway fight with extreme distaste. Those children were ruining his plans! He had expected them to run the minute he began firing at them. It was the only logical thing to do when encountering superior firepower with the little amount of training they had been given. Then again, he didn't think he had gotten to that part of his lesson plan. Still, he expected them to think more rationally; especially Mr. Nacht.
Speaking of him, Professor Glas watched as the teen deduced his location from a map Glas had left there as a distraction for anyone who attempted to intervene. While they were focused on the blueprint, he would be able to spring a trap for them.
Professor Glas reviewed his options. He had been foolish with his initial attack, throwing all of the primary turrets blindly into play, along with more than half of the secondary turrets. He was now left with only five turrets that were still operational. Once they were gone, there would be nothing between Daniel and the attackers.
Well, except for Professor Glas.
Professor Glas looked at Daniel and sighed. "I really wish they would stop this attack. I only have so much time before I have to return to Beacon. Class is in the morning after all." Professor Glas turned back to the monitor and activated the five remaining turrets, directing them all at the door teams LSTR and DDLN were in. This wouldn't solve his problems however. Even he could see that five turrets would not kill all of them. Definitely the first one out of the door, possibly the second. But that still left five teenagers prepared to move heaven and hell to reach their friends.
Professor Glas shook his head, and removed his lab coat, placing it over a chair. He then removed his lab coat and opened his suit up, checking to make certain his scalpels were still in place. Satisfied they were all present and accounted for, he closed his suit once more and strode towards the door. "Very well, I'll do it myself."
Team LSTR and DDLN watched in horror as the silhouette of Lunare was lit up with flashes of automatic fire. Lunare stumbled backwards from the force of the bullets hitting him, and fell to the ground, twisting at the last moment to land face-down. There was no way he could've survived
Seeing his leader and lifelong friend lying dead at his feet seemed to break something within Schatten. With an anguished roar, he activated his jump jets and blasted into the first two turrets. He grabbed them by their barrels and bit into the one on his right, tearing out the power wires with his bare teeth. As the remaining turrets began to track him, he activated his jump jets again, still holding onto the two turrets. The ensuing force tore them from their mounts. Schatten hit the ground and skidded backwards. He extended his left claws and slammed them into the concrete ground. They cut through the concrete like butter and brought Schatten's slide to an abrupt halt. With a howl somewhere between human and Beowulf, he threw the two turrets in his hands at the three remaining turrets and activating his jump jets once more. The force behind the turrets when they collided with two of the still active turrets was incredible. The turrets were bent backwards into the ceiling, breaking the ceiling tiles. The single remaining turret began firing rapidly at Schatten. Schatten used either his Aura or claws to deflect the bullets as he rammed into the turret, his jump jets still roaring at full throttle. His momentum carried him past the turret, but as he went by, he slashed wildly at it with both sets of claws. The turret broke into over a dozen individual pieces, and Schatten slammed into a door at the end of the hallway, turning it into firewood. It was over in fifteen seconds.
Schatten climbed from the wreckage of the door and tugged a jagged splinter from his arm. "Let's go," he ordered the group crowded around the dark form of Lunare in the door opening.
"But Sch-Schatten," Ryler sniffled, "What about Lun-"
"He's dead," Schatten said shortly, "There's nothing we can do for him. Right now, I need to find Glas and make him pay for killing my friend."
Schatten strode off in the direction Lunare had shown the examination room would be. The rest of the group filed out of the room, each of them briefly glancing at their fallen comrade as they stepped over his corpse. Nick was the last to leave. As he did, he bent down and studied Lunare's prone form. His brow furrowed for a moment, then relaxed into somber respect. He pushed the brim of his hat down briefly, then stood up and followed behind the others. Lunare was left alone in the dimly lit corridor. After a few minutes, the automatic lights shut off, plunging him into darkness.
Professor Glas slipped through the shadows, his light blue suit the only spot of color in the dark hallway. With his right hand in his suit jacket on his scalpel case, he strode purposefully down the corridor, following the route that any survivors of the turrets would most likely take. His pace was measured, but swift. He didn't want to waste any more time with these juvenile miscreants.
He didn't have to search long. Schatten tore around the corner at a tremendous velocity. When he saw Professor Glas, the wolf ears on his head flared back and he roared in anger. He activated his jump jets and blasted towards Professor Glas, claws extended, teeth bared in a fierce snarl,
Only for Professor Glas to duck under the claws and grab Schatten's forearm. He pivoted on his left foot and redirected Schatten into the concrete floor, cracking it from the force. Before Schatten could get back up, Professor Glas planted his foot on Schatten chest and wrenched at Schatten's arm, ripping his shoulder out of its socket. Schatten howled in pain, grasping his shoulder with his good arm, trying to pop it back in place.
"Charging blindly into a fight, Mr. Shwartz," Professor Glas admonished. "I was under the impression that I had taught you better than that." As he was speaking, Professor Glas abruptly dropped into a crouching position, allowing Tiberius' chakram's to sail inches over his head. Professor Glas pulled out several scalpels and launched them in a volley behind him. Tiberius, who had been trying to call his chakrams back was hit multilpe times before his aura failed, and three scalpels lodged themselves in the bicep. Tiberius stumbled backwards with an indignant hiss of pain, clutching the wounds. "Impressive use of my diverted attention to launch an attack Mr. Blanc," Professor Glas commented, "I believe you wrote an essay on that very tactic. I also seem to recall marking points off because you used both of your weapons in your initial attack, leaving you open to counterattack."
Lewis, Nick, and Ryler were the next to round the corner. He immediately strummed out a long chord, creating a shockwave of energy that filled the corridor, buckled doors, and threw Professor Glas back. The Professor stabbed the wall with one of his scalpels halting his advance. As he yanked his scalpel out of the gash he made in the wall, Ryler tossed a bag of something at him, and began firing grenades at Professor Glas. Professor Glas sliced the bag out of the air, spewing seeds everywhere. As they came in contact with the gas spewing out of the grenades, they began to sprout and grow into thorny vines. The vines writhed and groped for Professor Glas, intent on ensnaring him. Professor Glas grabbed a second scalpel in his left hand and with the precision of a doctor, sliced through the vines like they were made of paper. The severed stumps healed immediately and continued to assault Professor Glas, but the Professor simply cut them down once more.
Seeing an opening, Nick pulled his revolver from his coat and began firing his revolver at Professor Glas. Professor Glas sidestepped the fire bullets, cut through the ice bullets, and let the earth bullets slam into the vines, covering them in stone and forcing them down to the ground, the weight too great for them. Nick exhausted the bullets within his revolver and with a flick, turned it into its knife form. He waded into the vines and stabbed at Professor Glas, who deflected it with one scalpel, and used the other to slice along the length of Nick's arm. His Aura held, but just barely.
Realizing how close he had just come to getting cut, Nick grabbed Professor Glas' right arm and drove him against a wall, slicing with the intent of disemboweling the Professor. Professor Glas blocked each attack by simply concentrating his Aura at the strikes and deflecting them. Seeing this wasn't going to work, Nick abandoned this attempt and instead raised his weapon to stab Professor Glas in the chest. Before he could do this though, Professor Glas butted Nick in the head. As Nick stumbled backwards, Professor Glas reversed his grip on the scalpel in his left hand, pushed Nick's head back with his right, and jammed the scalpel in Nick's throat. Nick stumbled backwards, immediately grasping at the metal handle now firmly lodged in his throat. He tried to say something, but bloody bubbles from around the scalpel were all that came out.
"Nick! Nooo!" Ryler shouted. He reloaded his grenade launcher with metallic gray shells instead of the bright green ones he had been using previously. He fired, and Professor Glas tossed a scalpel at it to counter. The grenade exploded with a flaming concussion that was completely different from the green gas that spewed from the grenades previously. Evidently Ryler had loaded real grenades in this time.
Undisturbed by Professor Glas' accuracy with a scalpel, Ryler fired as fast as his weapon could cycle a new shell into the barrel. For each grenade that was fired, Professor Glas threw a scalpel to safely detonate it. When one grenade got past the scalpel without detonation, Professor Glas simply sidestepped it and sliced it in two with another scalpel; the two halves flying off in opposite directions. When Ryler ran out, Lewis moved forward, blasting waves of energy from his guitar. These waves were the most effective against Professor Glas. He couldn't cut through them, and they took up most of the corridor, making dodging them impossible. Professor Glas stumbled as he was buffeted by wave upon wave of green energy. As he got closer, Lewis abandoned the strumming and instead ripped the guitar from his back, pulling it back to use it like a club. This was a mistake. Without the energy holding him back, Professor Glas sidestepped the swing and as Lewis was winding up for another swing, sliced through every single string on Lewis guitar. Before Lewis could do anything else, Professor Glas grasped one of his outstretched hands by the wrist, and pressed hard on a pressure point. Lewis' guitar fell from nerveless fingers as Lewis dropped to his knees, gritting his teeth in pain.
"You, ignorant children," Professor Glas seethed his face turning red with anger. This was taking longer than he had expected, and he still hadn't started Daniel's dissection. "Do you have any idea what I am trying to do? All I want to do is my duty to the people. If that means sacrificing one boy so that billions will live, I will do what is necessary. I wish you could understand what is truly at stake here." Professor Glas squeezed a point at the base of Lewis' neck, and Lewis went out like a light.
"Not one step further sir!" Ryler ordered. Professor Glas stood up slowly and turned to face Ryler, his hands in the air.
"As a Huntsman in training, I-I hereby put you under arrest, and, I order you to surrender!" Ryler demanded, his voice becoming very high.
Professor Glas took a deep breath. "I'm afraid that's not an option, Ryler. I don't surrender."
"Then I hereby, charge you with kidnapping, assault, and murder!" Ryler said, tearing up as he said murder. "Your sentence is death!"
Ryler squeezed the firing trigger, but as he did so, Professor Glas flicked his wrist, launching a fire scalpel into the barrel of Rylers weapon. The grenade detonated, blasting Ryler into the wall, where he collapsed in agony.
Professor Glas stood among the corridor and surveyed the wreckage. Five Huntsmen and training down in less than two minutes. They were tougher than he had anticipated. Against someone else of his skill, they might've won the fight. He however, was their tactics teacher. He knew exactly how they fought, their weapons, and their semblances. The odds were stacked against them from the beginning, really.
Professor Glas dusted off his jacket and walked back the way he came, pausing only as Schatten finally got his shoulder back into its socket. With a bestial roar, he tried to sweep Professor Glas' legs out from under him. Professor Glas simply leapt over the swinging legs and slammed himself down on Schatten's stomach. Schatten pushed him off and tried to get up once more, but Professor Glas grabbed the arm he was pushing up with, and yanked it out of its socket once more. The corridor was filled with Schatten's howls of pain as Professor Glas walked towards what would surely be the greatest accomplishment of his career.
I'm going to keep it short this time. I'm not exactly in the mood for writing end spiels today. Like and Bookmark if you enjoyed this chapter and want to see more, and don't hesitate to drop a review. I'll see you all soon.
-Wrench
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