A Fairly Reasonable Crashout (RWBY Adam SI) ch 38

+++

​Nerissa Selkie yawned. 

​"Morning, Quan," the Mantlese greeted as she reached for the coffee grinder. 

There was no reply. 

Nerissa blinked, glancing to the faunus man who was standing still, his back turned, and his hands grasping something, a newspaper. Ever since the Union had cleared up the roads and did away with the tolls that the bandits had brought forward, commerce could proceed without issue. Cius surely enjoyed the benefit of freerer roads allowing deeper access into the peninsula. For the men and women in the field, getting luxuries became possible albeit slowly. 

"Hey, you okay?" Nerissa asked as she strode up to him. Her eyes narrowed when she saw his hands shaking. 

He turned, eyes flickering with barely contained rage. "Read," he said simply. 

Curious, Nerissa walked up, and did so. 

​Her eyes widened.

​+++

A scream echoed through the forest. Then, silence.

Sienna huffed as the last of the Doukid troops crumpled to the ground. Their armor was cracked, their weapons shattered, and their commander lay unconscious.

"Take what you can. Then we leave," Adam ordered. The militia murmured their agreement, already moving to scavenge from the fallen soldiers. The Massina plan was in full motion, and it was already showing results. Continuous pressure on the enemy troops had stretched the town's defenses to their limits. Union spies reported growing unease among the townsfolk as their security dwindled. The former mayor, desperate to regain control, was slowly rallying support to reclaim leadership.

For Adam's militia, this instability was an opportunity. The noble troops, far better equipped than bandits, carried sturdy armor, higher-value lien, and superior weapons. Ambushing patrols and scouts had become routine, thanks to Adam's knack for striking without warning.

Even so, Sienna couldn't shake her unease. She felt...strained. They had been away from Cius for weeks, possibly months. Time had blurred. Yes, their work was important. Liberating towns from bandits and oppressive nobility was a worthy cause. But she couldn't stop the nagging thought that had been plaguing her: how was this truly hurting the SDC? How was this leading to meaningful faunus liberation?

The more they wandered deeper into Mistrali politics, the more directionless the mission felt to her. She understood the logic. Securing territory meant power and influence, which would strengthen their position. But the SDC was still out there, untouched. Only the gods knew what schemes they were plotting.

She was going to ask Adam. When would they return to the real fight? When would they turn their attention back to the SDC?

Her gaze fell on him. He stood apart from the others, straight-backed as always, sliding his sword back into its sheath. He watched the men loot the fallen soldiers, though he made no move to join them.

Taking a deep breath, she walked toward him.

"Hey," she called.

"Hey," Adam replied, a flicker of warmth in his eyes.

Despite herself, Sienna smiled. Then she shook her head, clearing her thoughts.

"Adam, can we talk?" she asked.

Adam paused, studying her, then nodded. "What's on your mind?"

She hesitated, but the words came anyway. "When are we going to attack the SDC?"

Adam didn't respond immediately.

"Because," Sienna continued, "it feels like all we've been doing is getting caught up in Mistrali politics. I'm not saying this is bad. Freeing people from bandits and corrupt nobles is always a good thing. But when are we going to do what we're supposed to do?"

Adam's gaze sharpened for a moment, and Sienna thought she saw irritation, but she realized it was him thinking. "The plan has always been to build a strong base of support. When we start targeting the SDC, we need to do it from a position of strength. Would you have preferred we fight them when we were nothing more than refugees, reliant on my aunt's charity? Back then, we had no power, no equipment, no influence."

​Admittedly, that was a fair logic. But...

"We have a base now, however small it might be." Sienna pointed out. "Couldn't we not do what needs be done?" 

Adan paused, as if considering her words. Then just as his mouth moved, a shrill whistle entered their ears. "Doukid reinforcements coming!" a scout cried, rushing back to the main group. 

"We'll continue this conversation later," Adam promised as he turned his head, shouting orders. Sienna clicked her tongue in annoyance but followed. 

The trek back to Union territory was swift. No one wanted to stay in an area where a fight had begun since the Grimm would usually come. With that, Sienna had to feel uneasy since despite the obvious attractions of aura-filled huntsmen in their ranks, the Grimm avoided them when they could helped it and always went for easier marks of aura-less groups. This implied a far too smart alpha Grimm. But why? Why would it resist attacking the obvious temptations? 

She had seen it, once or twice, slithering in the shadows. It was a beowulf, perhaps the biggest she had ever seen, and it would trail them with its pack but leave when it sensed other groups. The only Grimm that they had to fight were those not belonging to the beowulf's pack. 

​Grimm questions aside, she had plenty enough on her own. 

Soon, the group retreated back their territory, and the militia breathed sighs of relief. Seeing civilization, however humble, was comforting. 

But the comfort did not last long.

"Adam! Sienna!" a voice cried. The two turned to see Malik, running, and waving a piece of paper in his hand. The wolf faunus huffed and puffed as he stopped before them, sweat dripping down his face. 

"What? What is it?" Adam asked. Malik's reply was to shove the newspaper towards them. Adam reached out, grasping the newspaper. 

+++

ATLAS COUNCILLOR RESIGNS IN SHOCKING TRIBUNAL SPEECH, LEAKS DAMNING FILES ON SDC AND MILITARY COLLUSION

By Lisa Lavender, Vale News Network.

A political firestorm ignited yesterday as Councillor Florianne Geyer took the podium in an unscheduled appearance before the Atlas High Council, delivering what many are already calling the most consequential resignation speech in the Kingdom's modern history. In a charged and emotionally searing address broadcast live across all major CCT channels, Geyer accused both the Atlesian military and the Schnee Dust Company (SDC) of criminal conspiracy, systemic abuse, and obstruction of justice.

The twenty-minute speech culminated in her public resignation and an explosive release of files allegedly implicating the SDC CEO, Jacques Schnee, SDC executives, senior government and military officials in decades long criminal activity and neglect, leading to the uprising of Nicolasburg. 

Following the upload, the chamber erupted into chaos. Councillors shouted over one another, aides scrambled from their stations, and security was reportedly mobilized to detain Geyer. As she attempted to exit the chamber, she was intercepted and brought to the floor by an unidentified individual believed to be an internal security agent.

Witnesses say she did not resist.

Reactions from Leadership and the Public

​

Atlesian Command has yet to issue an official statement, though the SDC issued a brief statement early this morning, calling the allegations "politically motivated fiction" and assuring shareholders that "all company operations remain in full compliance with Kingdom law." Jacques Schnee himself has not appeared publicly since the leak, though his legal team has threatened "swift and sweeping defamation suits."

Civilian reaction in both Atlas and Mantle has been polarized. Protesters gathered late last night outside the Atlas Military Headquarters and SDC Central Tower, some chanting "Geyer was right" and holding signs referencing the deaths of Nicholasburg miners. Meanwhile, others have criticized Geyer for what they call "irresponsible sabotage" of national stability.

​

Though a full audit of the data dump is ongoing, early analysis confirms that many of the files are legitimate and consistent with already reported alleged abuses of the company. Poor working conditions, the use of private security to beat back dissent, and most shockinly, the deployment of a Atlesian flotilla using extreme force to subdue malnourished and poorly equipped miners. 

Legal experts are divided on how the government will proceed. Because Geyer resigned mid-session, she is no longer protected by Council Rights. However, any move to prosecute her could risk further inflaming public sentiment, especially as independent journalists and international observers begin to comb through the released documents. However, the former Councillor remains detained in a Atlesian Military Prison and there are calls and petitions to release her. 

The Atlesian Council has paused all further public sessions pending review of the data release. A source close to the Judicial Ministry, speaking under condition of anonymity, said that an internal investigation is being considered. 

Meanwhile, prominent voices from outside the Kingdom have already begun weighing in. Ghira Belladonna of Menagerie issued a public statement praising Geyer's bravery: "This is the kind of moral clarity we seldom see in high office. The Faunus of Remnant owe her a debt." Questions on how the White Fang will reply remain unanswered though Ghira promised swift decisive action with respect to the dignity of both humans and faunus.

Whether Geyer will be formally detained, charged with treason, or hailed as a hero remains uncertain. For now, Atlas remains at a crossroads, and already scattered reports of strikes are being planned by faunus labour groups. 

​+++

The Union leadership sat in silence, though they were not alone.

"Fuck the SDC!"

"Fuck Atlas!"

"Fuck Jacques Schnee!"

The barn was packed with militia members, their voices echoing with rage. In the center of the room, Sienna stood, holding a newspaper in her hands. She had volunteered to read its contents aloud, but the words alone weren't enough. Nerissa stepped forward, scroll in hand, and played the accompanying videos. The weak CCT signal caused the footage to stutter, but it conveyed its message clearly.

The militia watched in stunned horror as the screen showed the Wings of Victory unleashing its batteries on the already smoldering ruins of Nicolasburg. The camera shook as explosions rocked the town. Adam was there, desperately leading the defense. His efforts were valiant, but the onslaught was too much. The video ended with his defeat.

Everything.

The air inside the barn was thick with tension, heavy with rage. Feet stomped. Teeth gnashed. Demands for vengeance filled the room. The faunus cried out the loudest, their voices raw with fury. Some humans joined in, but many stayed silent, their eyes downcast, their tongues held.

"Quiet!" the village headman bellowed, slamming a hammer against the table. The sharp clang silenced the crowd, though their anger simmered just beneath the surface.

Sienna exhaled sharply, tossing the newspaper onto the table. Her gaze shifted to Adam, who sat in his chair, unusually quiet.

"Adam," she called, her voice firm but questioning. "What do we do?"

All eyes turned to him.

He straightened, his expression unreadable.

"I didn't think it would come to this so soon," Adam began, his voice measured but carrying an edge. "I thought we would have more time to gather strength, to stockpile arms and money, to build ourselves into something greater before we struck back. But time waits for no one."

He rose to his feet.

"We must act. Now."

The words ignited the room. A roar of approval erupted from the faunus, their voices shaking the barn. Cheers mixed with cries of fury, their expectations clear.

"Prepare yourselves," Adam declared, his voice cutting through the noise. "The SDC and Atlas will suffer."

"RAAAAGH!" The faunus roared again, embracing one another, their anger turned to determination.

But the hammer struck the table once more.

The sound silenced the barn as all eyes turned to the village headman. He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably under their collective gaze. A flicker of nervousness passed through his expression before he began to speak.

"I... understand where you're coming from, Adam. I do," he said, his voice rough but steady. "But... what does my village have to do with this? We have no quarrel with the SDC or Atlas."

The temperature in the barn seemed to drop. The faunus stared at him with cold, disdainful eyes. Sienna's own gaze darkened as rage bubbled within her. Was he serious? She and their group had freed this village from the tyranny of bandit-lords, risking their lives for people they didn't need to help. And now this ungrateful coward dared to question them? She felt the urge to step forward, to wring the words from his throat if she had to-

"A fair question," Adam interrupted, raising a hand.

The tension in the room held, but the faunus stayed their anger, reluctantly obeying their leader. Adam stepped closer to the headman, meeting his eyes with an unnerving calm.

"Why should this village or the rest of the Union join us?" Adam asked, his tone almost conversational. "After all, the Union was formed as a defensive alliance, wasn't it? To protect ourselves from bandits and the warlord nobles running rampant in Mistral. Not to wage war against the SDC or Atlas."

The headman swallowed hard, his confidence faltering. "Y-yes," he stammered.

Adam nodded slightly, his expression calm, though his eyes remained fixed on the headman.

"Then let me ask you something," Adam said, his voice steady but growing more forceful with each word. "When the bandits came to your village, when they took your crops, your lien, and your people, who stood up for you?"

The headman's lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn't answer.

"It was us," Adam continued. "We fought for you. We bled for you. And we didn't ask for anything in return other than supplies." His voice rose, sharp and unwavering, carrying over the murmurs of the crowd.

The headman shifted uneasily, his gaze darting to the watching militia. The faunus glared at him, their anger barely restrained, and even some of the humans began to look at him with disdain. 

His face softened. "This is about justice, headsman. Justice for my people. No, for all those who labour. Your people have been under the yoke of nobility. You know how it feels to have your dignity, your pride, stripped away by some landowner who doesn't even know the struggles of daily living. To have your sons or daughters pawed at by wicked and undeserving men." 

The headsman's eyes flashed in remembrance to the Doukid coming to his village and his lips scowled. Adam gestured around. "My people have suffered through that, and more. I grew up in that mine. I faced Atlas. As much as you bear the nobility, my people bear injustice." 

​He straightened. "And this cause is just and rewarding. The SDC has plants and other facilities here, places that was once owned by Mistral. Surely, it is right for the sons and daughters of Mistral to get their due back?" 

A few humans then leaned in with interest. 

"So what say you, headsman? Will you join us? Will you fight?" Adam asked. 

The headman opened his mouth, but no words came out. He looked around, perhaps hoping for support, but found none. Finally, he sighed and lowered his head.

"I understand," he muttered. "We will stand with you."

Adam's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before he turned back to the crowd.

"Good," Adam said, his voice firm. "Spread the word. We move soon. Every village, every able-bodied man and woman, every ounce of strength we can muster. We go to war!" 

The militia erupted in cheers, their voices filling the barn once more. The faunus roared, their fists raised high, while others nodded in grim determination.

Sienna crossed her arms, watching Adam. She was already noticing a pattern with his speeches. If not appealing to justice, he would appeal to greed. Both things motivated anyone. 

Adam turned to Sienna and Malik, his voice quieter but no less commanding. "You two, come with me. We must plan." 

​Both nodded.

They sequestered into another room, one filled with maps of the peninsula. Adam's voice broke through. "There are only three SDC sites present here," he murmured. "The biggest one is in Panormus, a fuel depot and silo for dust. It serves ships coming from the Northern Sea going East." 

"But a big facility will have tons of security, Adam. We do not have the necessary forces to bring in this fight," Sienna pointed out, her voice professional, but her heart pounding. 

"I know and Panormus is far," Adam replied. "We cannot realistically hit their main facilities but there are subsidiaries and smaller places." 

He pointed to the map. "And incidentally, the closest one is a minor depot." 

+++

[SPOILER="Bury the Light"][URL unfurl="true" media="youtube:pvy9km7g6fw"]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pvy9km7g6fw[/URL][/SPOILER]

Depot 4 stood tall, with thick barbed wire fences and a guard tower that watched for threats. The structure itself was modest, a squat concrete building with reinforced steel doors and narrow, barred windows. The walls bore the faded insignia of the SDC, their once-pristine logos now weathered by time. There really was no need for further maintenance of such things, the manager claimed, so far away from prying eyes.

The yard surrounding the depot was a patchwork of gravel and dirt, scattered with rusting cargo containers and supply crates. A few armored trucks sat idle near a fuel station, their paint chipped and their tires caked in dried mud. The guard tower loomed over it all, its spotlight inactive under the bright sun, while a lone guard paced the platform, rifle slung over his shoulder. Below, two other guards patrolled the perimeter, their movements purposeful as the midday heat bore down on them.

Inside the depot, the scene was no less utilitarian. Rows of shelves lined the walls, stacked with ammunition crates, medical supplies, and spare parts for Atlas machinery. A small office in the corner housed a desk cluttered with papers, a flickering terminal, and a single chair. The overhead lights buzzed faintly, though their glow was irrelevant in the sunlight streaming through the narrow, barred windows.

This was among many such SDC facilities scattered across the world, particularly along busy routes. Airships needed fuel or repairs during emergencies, and dust shipments found their way even to the most isolated communities. Most groups dared not interrupt SDC operations. The last one that tried had an Atlesian naval expedition arrive and blow their camp to smithereens.

But today, that was going to change.

The guards on the ground didn't notice at first. The quiet rustling of the trees at the forest's edge blended in with the faint hum of the depot's generator. A slight shimmer of movement in the heat haze might have drawn attention had the guards not been so accustomed to routine.

Then came the first strike.

An arrow shot from the treeline, swift and precise, finding its mark in the throat of the guard atop the tower. He staggered, clutching at his neck as blood spilled between his fingers. He collapsed against the railing, his lifeless body slumping out of sight. The guards below froze, their confusion mounting as they scanned the treeline.

"What the hell?" one guard muttered, only for his words to be drowned out by the sharp crack of a rifle. The shot rang out across the yard, and the second patrolling guard crumpled to the ground, blood pooling beneath his body.

Panic set in. The remaining guard fumbled for his comms, his voice trembling. "We're under attack! Repeat, we're under-"

A blur of red streaked across his vision before he could finish. Adam's blade cleaved through the air, slicing the rifle in half before cutting deep into the man's chest. The guard fell, his warning unfinished.

The treeline erupted as the militia surged forward.

Sienna was at the front, her whip cracking in wide, deadly arcs as she struck down the first wave of reinforcements spilling out of the depot's doors. With fluid precision, she disarmed one guard and sent another sprawling with a sharp strike to the legs. Behind her, Malik barked orders, his voice carrying over the chaos.

"Get the trucks! We will need them!" Malik commanded. "Destroy what we can't take!" 

The militia followed his orders. Explosions rocked the yard as grenades were thrown toward the fuel station. Fireballs erupted into the sky, and one of the armored trucks burst into flames, its fuel tank detonating with a deafening roar. The shockwave rattled the ground, sending shards of debris flying.

Inside the depot, chaos reigned.

The SDC guards scrambled to mount a defense, overturning crates and shelves to create makeshift barricades. They fired through the narrow windows, their bullets ricocheting harmlessly off the militia's cover. One guard frantically shouted into a terminal, trying to call for reinforcements. Adam strode through the chaos, his crimson blade cutting down anyone who dared stand in his way. His strikes were clean and deliberate, each step purposeful, his presence commanding. He carved a path to the depot's entrance, unflinching as bullets whizzed past him.

Sienna followed close behind, scanning for any remaining resistance. She spotted two guards taking aim from a second-story window and lashed her whip upward, shattering the glass and forcing them to duck for cover.

"Keep pushing forward!" she shouted, her voice rallying the militia.

Malik's team breached the side entrance, their weapons raised as they stormed the interior. The firefight was brief and brutal. Outnumbered and overwhelmed, the remaining SDC guards surrendered, tossing their weapons to the floor.

The depot was theirs.

Adam stepped into the main office, his boots crunching over shattered glass. He surveyed the room, his gaze landing on the flickering terminal and the papers scattered across the desk. The militia moved quickly, stripping the depot of ammunition, medical supplies, and equipment. Crates were emptied, shelves cleared, and the remaining trucks were loaded with as much as they could carry.

Sienna watched as Adam approached the terminal, his expression unreadable. "What are you looking for?" she asked, stepping closer.

"Information," Adam replied, his fingers flying across the keyboard. "The SDC doesn't just store supplies in places like this. There's data: shipping routes, supply chains, troop movements. Anything we can use to gain an edge."

The terminal beeped, and Adam's lips curved into a faint smile. "Got it."

Adam pocketed the stolen drive and turned to Sienna, his crimson blade still in hand. "Let's go," he said, his voice calm but carrying an edge of anticipation. Together, they stepped out of the office and into the depot's yard, where the militia was already hard at work securing the area and preparing the stolen vehicles.

As they descended the concrete steps, the muffled sound of a voice yelling caught their attention. One of the SDC officers, hands bound behind his back, was being held by two militia members near the center of the yard. His face was red with fury, and his voice rang out over the chaos.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" the officer shouted, his tone dripping with indignation. "Do you even know who you're fucking with?!"

Adam stopped in his tracks and turned to face the man, his expression cold and unreadable. The officer glared at him, his bravado unwavering despite his situation.

"You won't get away with this," the officer sneered, a twisted grin spreading across his face. "Reinforcements are coming, and when they get here, you're all dead. Every last one of you."

Adam tilted his head slightly, his calm demeanor unshaken. "How soon?" he asked, his tone devoid of concern.

The officer chuckled smugly. "Five minutes. Maybe less. And when they do, they'll turn you and your little band of savages into ash."

For a moment, silence fell over the yard. Then Adam smiled, a cold, predatory smile that made the officer's confidence falter ever so slightly.

+++

The hum of the bullhead's engine reverberated through the cabin, a steady drone that failed to settle the growing unease in his chest. Captain Elias Harker sat strapped in his seat, his visor resting on his lap, fingers drumming against the metal. His squad was silent, the tension palpable as they awaited orders.

It wasn't unusual for depots to send distress signals: false alarms, equipment failures, or even the occasional drunk guard accidentally triggering the system. But this? This was different. Depot 4's distress signal had been blaring for over an hour now, and no one had been able to establish communication. Harker glanced down at the internal memo still open on his scroll. It had been issued by corporate in the aftermath of Geyer's speech, the subversive speech had spread like wildfire, sparking protests and unrest across the world. The memo had warned of potential attacks on SDC assets, urging tighter security and readiness for extremist activity.

Fucking Geyer. Stupid busybody. Now the entire world was in chaos...!

The captain frowned, his grip tightening on his scroll. 

"Captain," came the voice of his pilot through the comms, breaking his train of thought. "You might want to come up here."

Harker unbuckled himself and made his way to the cockpit, his boots clanging against the metal floor. He leaned into the cramped space, his eyes narrowing as he looked out the windshield.

"What is it?" he asked, his tone sharp.

The pilot gestured to the display screen. "We're coming up on Depot 4. Sensors show friendlies in the central courtyard, but…" He paused, then pointed at another signal. "There's something else. One unknown. A single heat signature. Just standing there."

Harker leaned closer, his unease deepening as he stared at the readout. "A single man?"

The pilot nodded. "Looks like it."

Harker exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening. "How foolish," he muttered. "They must be waiting for us to drop our guard."

He straightened and turned back to the cabin. "Deploy as soon as we land. Surround the unknown. We'll handle this quickly."

The squad snapped to attention as the orders came through. The bullhead began its descent, the second transport following close behind. 

The bullhead's engines roared as it touched down in the depot yard, kicking up clouds of dust and smoke from the earlier battle. Harker was the first off, his boots hitting the ground with practiced precision. His squad fanned out behind him in a well-rehearsed maneuver, rifles at the ready as they surrounded the lone figure in the courtyard.

Adam Taurus stood calmly in the center of the yard, his crimson blade resting casually at his side. The fires from the destroyed fuel station cast flickering shadows across his face, highlighting the calm yet predatory expression that seemed to make the air around him heavier.

Harker's eyes narrowed as he stepped forward, gripping the loudspeaker attached to his armor. "You!" his voice boomed, amplified to carry over the chaos. "Drop your weapon and surrender immediately, or we will open fire!"

Adam didn't flinch. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, as if considering the demand. Then, with deliberate slowness, he raised his free hand.

Harker's gut twisted.

The first shot came from the treeline. The fire dust round sailed arced forward and struck the engine of the second bullhead. The transport swung wildly, smoke and fire trailing from its side before it crashed into the far end of the yard, detonating in a fiery explosion that shook the ground. The first bullhead veered off, blasting away into the distance. 

"Ambush!" 

The ambush erupted with brutal precision. Sienna's whip cracked through the air, disarming one of the perimeter guards before they could even aim. Harker threw himself to the ground as gunfire rang out from every direction. His squad was pinned, scrambling for cover as the militia struck from their concealed positions.

"Ambush!" one of his soldiers shouted, only to be silenced by a rifle shot from the shadows.

Harker rolled to his side, raising his comm to his lips. "Fall back! Regroup-"

A flash of red interrupted him.

Adam moved like a shadow given form, his blade cutting through the chaos with terrifying precision. He was a blur of speed and purpose, his strikes clean and deliberate as he carved through the SDC squad. Harker barely had time to react as Adam closed the distance between them. He raised his rifle, but Adam's blade sliced through it effortlessly, the weapon falling to pieces in his hands. The captain stumbled back, drawing his sidearm, but Adam was relentless. A single strike sent the weapon flying, and a second brought the edge of his sword to Harker's throat.

The battlefield seemed to freeze, the sounds of gunfire and shouting momentarily fading into the background. Harker's chest heaved as he stared into Adam's eyes, blue and cold, like the Solitan Sea. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, before Adam shook his head and raised his blade.

Harker saw blackness.

By the time the dust settled, the courtyard was silent once more. The second bullhead lay in smoldering ruins, and the SDC squad was defeated, their weapons scattered across the ground. Adam stood amidst the wreckage, his blade dripping with blood. The militia emerged from their positions, their cheers subdued but victorious as they regrouped and secured the area. 

Adam turned away, towards the SDC personnel that had been tied up and forced to watch everything. They shivered as he approached, his footsteps echoing. 

"If the Grimm won't get you," he said softly. "I have a message for your superiors." 

They struggled, eyes wide, tears flowing down their eyes, they struggled in their bonds. 

Adam went on one knee, looking at each one of them in the eye. "Remember Nicolasburg," he whispered before turning away, he and his militia vanishing into the smoke. The SDC men shook and cried, unable to move. 

Then they heard it. 

A low, deep, guttural growl. 

The men screamed as heavy pawing footesteps echoed in the dirt. A trio of beowolves stalked forward, their leader a massive hulking thing with sturdier plates, with claws as sharp as razors, its teeth as edged as daggers. A malevolent snarl left its throat as it took in the smell of blood and chaos. It licked its lips, tasting the fear. 

The SDC officer cried and screamed as the alpha beowulf strode forward towards it, its snout leaning forward and taking in his scent. 

​"NO! NO! NONONONONO!" he would have yelled if not for the gag around his mouth. But what came out were nothing more but pitiful muffles of sobbing desperate men. This was what the alpha beowulf saw, and revelled. It slowly opened its mouth, wrapping around the screaming Atlesian whose nose revolted from the smell of rotten flesh, dried blood, and sheer hateful evil of the Grimm. The last thing he saw was darkness before the beowulf snapped its jaws. 

+++

A/N: Fucking yikes. 

But considering everything that has happened...it's a fairly reasonable crashout. 

Further notes: Why attack the SDC so late? The SI knows that revolutions needs money, arms, and influence to succeed. The Philippine Revolution began with its fighters trying to seize a Spanish Guardia Civil Armoury. And this is going to be long and bloody. For example, in the Haitian Revolution, "Raynal's prediction came true on the night of 21 August 1791, when the slaves of Saint-Domingue rose in revolt; thousands of slaves attended a secret vodou ceremony as a tropical storm came in — the lightning and the thunder were taken as auspicious omens — and later that night, the slaves began to kill their masters and plunged the colony into civil war.[48] The signal to begin the revolt had been given by Dutty Boukman, a high priest of vodou and leader of the Maroon slaves, and Cecile Fatiman during a religious ceremony at Bois Caïman on the night of 14 August.[49] Within the next ten days, slaves had taken control of the entire Northern Province in an unprecedented slave revolt. Whites kept control of only a few isolated, fortified camps. The slaves sought revenge on their masters through "pillage, rape, torture, mutilation, and death".[50] The long years of oppression by the planters had left many blacks with a hatred of all whites, and the revolt was marked by extreme violence from the very start. The masters and mistresses were dragged from their beds to be killed, and the heads of French children were placed on pikes that were carried at the front of the rebel columns.[48] In the south, beginning in September, thirteen thousand slaves and rebels led by Romaine-la-Prophétesse, based in Trou Coffy, took supplies from and burned plantations, freed slaves, and occupied (and burned) the area's two major cities, Léogâne and Jacmel." 

Holy fucking shit. 

And now, with the beowulf grimm, I do not think it would be too out of place for a older and wiser Alpha Grimm to realize there are far better opportunities to do its thing other than following the angry bull faunus and his cronies. If anything, if rumors of this shit comes, yeah, people are going to be scared shitless. 

And yes, this is back to form. To fight Jacky Schnee.