Stranded 019

With Weiss’ summon at their disposal, the entire island opened up to them. They had a brief discussion about possibly leaving the island and attempting to cross the ocean but they ultimately decided that the risk was too great. While Jaune could technically keep her semblance going with his own indefinitely, there was no way of telling how far away they would need to travel. It wasn’t the distance itself that was the problem; it was what they might encounter along the way.

If they ran into any airborne Grimm, it could spell their doom. Their ability to fight back in such a compromised position was severely limited. All it would take was the destruction of their mount to plunge them back into the sea and this time, they might not be so lucky as to wash up on a beach. In addition to a possible fight with Grimm, if the weather turned, it would most assuredly mean their death.

They would only attempt it if there was no other option and their lives were in immediate danger by staying. As of now, though? The only thing Jaune was in danger of was dehydration.

Weiss was an insatiable minx and as much as Blake tried at times to be the level headed one, it didn’t take much convincing before she joined in. The amount of sex they engaged in over the last couple of days was truly depraved. Once the heiress got a taste for the act, she was unsatisfied if they didn’t bone at least once every six hours. Blake put up a token resistance but a few well placed words and the cat faunus was putty in their hands.

It was incredible. It was unbelievable.

It was exhausting.

In the best of ways, for sure – but they were both Huntresses-in-training and their libido and stamina matched. There were two of them and only one of him, and his cock was being overworked in a way he never thought possible. Truly, the human body was a marvel – to produce that much sperm, in so little time of recovery? A miracle of nature.

He was very careful not to deliver any more cream pies but sometimes it was taken out of his hands. Blake had a very sexy, dangerous habit of locking her ankles behind his back and tensing her thighs, trapping him from making any sort of escape. She denied that she was doing this on purpose, that she was just getting lost in the moment but as much as that stroked his ego, telling him that sex with him was making her lose her mind in the throes of passion, blasting her womb full of cum was a pretty big deal.

Weiss wasn’t much better. She would make a show of getting off him and allowing him to shoot into her mouth, but then she would jump back on his still firing cock and squeeze the rest of his load out mid-orgasm with her impossibly tight snatch, the switch up between her pussy to her mouth, and then back to pussy driving him wild. When prim and proper Weiss Schnee did things like that? Well, Blake wasn’t the only one that lost her mind.

Sometimes it was entirely his fault.

Taking Weiss from behind was becoming a little bit of a thing between them. The depth of penetration, the sight of her slim, muscular back flexing whenever he pounded her shapely butt, the ripples of flesh as he clapped into her, the feel of her tiny breasts shaking in the palm of his hands as he pulled her body against his front... the harder he fucked her, the more she seemed to like it. While she did like to indulge in a slower, more loving pace at times, getting railed really seemed to be her thing. She loved it when he got rough with her and if he was being totally honest, he enjoyed being rough with such a small, delicate girl. If she couldn’t take it, that would have been a different story.

But she could. Oh boy, could she take it.

Blake more often than not wanted a softer touch, partially because her pussy was shallower and couldn’t comfortably take all of him but also because he was beginning to discover she was a little bit of a romantic. She loved her smut but those books she so loved to read were filled with romantic gestures and grand speeches of love, and when he whispered into her ears how much he desired her, how much he wanted to make her feel good, how she was making him fall in love with her, she unraveled quicker than a snapped piece of twine. Her heart was weak to words, and her body reacted accordingly, clenching and milking him in a desperate play for his seed.

He really was living his best life and as tiring as it was to satisfy the both of them, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

There was always that looming threat of when they finally returned home but he was more than willing to live entirely in the moment. As Weiss said, they would deal with it when it came – but for now? No one else was here, just them. They were free to do as they pleased without judgment, without scandal – and so they would.

He just needed to be a little more careful. Getting them both pregnant just wasn’t a wise move.

While not as exhilarating as the mad lustful sex they were all engaging in, riding on the back of Weiss’ Nevermore was a thrill. Feeling the wind in his hair as they rushed above a sea of green, the view of the shoreline on his right was incredible. With each beat of its powerful wings, they flew higher into the sky until the entire island was spread out below them.

And what they saw sent a bolt of excitement racing through them.

“There!” he shouted, pointing. He saw Weiss and Blake follow his finger, their expressions quickly morphing into surprise.

On the northern side, nestled in a small bay of rocks was the unmistakable appearance of a man made structure. He couldn’t see much more than the one building but as they descended, it became clear that there were more. Some kind of complex with multiple separate buildings with flat roofing, built with concrete and with simple efficiency in mind. The reason they were hard to distinguish was because they were overgrown with vegetation, grass and vines crawling up walls and across roofs, camouflaging them perfectly.

Abandoned – but a sign that humans or faunus had one time used this island. For what? There was only one way to find out.

They landed by an overgrown fence, the chain link almost collapsing under the weight of the plant life. Dismounting, Weiss dismissed her summon and they shared a look before Jaune took point, deploying his shield and unsheathing his blade. Weiss brandished her rifle and followed with Blake taking up the rear, her spear at the ready.

The ground was sealed with asphalt and they soon learned why. Various vehicles were parked by several of the buildings, equally as overgrown by weeds that had grown up through the cracked road. Peering through dirty windows, Jaune saw that the interiors were in pretty bad shape. Many of the frames were beginning to show advanced signs of rust damage, and he doubted any of them were still operational. Pulling open the dust storage unit, they saw that it was depleted long ago. Empty, and it wouldn’t surprise him if the engines were completely seized anyway.

“These are military vehicles,” Blake said warily.

She was right. Though they appeared to be of an older design, they were unmistakably Atlesian in origin.

“What is this place?” Jaune asked.

Weiss frowned. “Atlas only has one base outside of Solitas and that is in Argus.”

Though this place was clearly abandoned and for some time, it wasn’t so old as the Great War or even the Faunus Rights Revolution. Twenty years, maybe? Thirty at most.

“Come on, let's look around more,” Jaune said.

The first couple of buildings they entered were typical office blocks. Rows of cubicles with desks, old computers and even older style filing cabinets, water coolers and not much else. Rifling through the cabinets didn’t tell them much. Invoices, manifests, many of which were hardly legible. From the looks of it, anything important had been removed.

The largest building was the barracks. Here they found an assortment of weapons, still secured in lockers. Rifles, pistols, and ammunition. More than enough to keep a company of soldiers well supplied and the number of beds supported it – by rough count, there were around three hundred, the cots moldy and frames rusted, many of the windows broken and letting in moisture.

Blake opened the nearest locker and pulled out one of the pistols, turning it over in her hands. Ejecting the magazine, they saw that it was empty.

“Want to take it?” Jaune asked and she nodded, reaching for a box of ammunition and some spare magazines. While she busied herself with loading them with dust rounds, Jaune joined Weiss in searching further.

“Those weapons aren’t standard issue,” Weiss shared after a moment.

“What?” Jaune asked.

“They aren’t what the Atlas military uses,” she explained, giving him a worried glance. “Not now, not ever.”

The old vehicles, the mismatch of weapons, it was beginning to paint a very strange picture. “So you’re saying this isn’t Atlas?”

Weiss shook her head. “I don’t know. It could be. But why use different weapons if you are already using identifiable vehicle tech? If you are trying to keep your military involvement a secret, it doesn’t make sense. You think they would use different vehicles if that was the case.”

After that, they found the mess hall, the kitchen still stocked but everything had long spoiled. Long tables were covered in dust, benches overturned. There were even vending machines that lined some of the walls, still filled with old packets of chips, drinks and other snack foods. Further along was a building covered with communication equipment but the inside had been severely damaged, the servers having suffered fire damage. Accidental or something more sinister?

“Think we could use this to send out a signal?” Jaune asked, peering up at the relay tower on the roof.

“No power,” Weiss reminded him.

“Actually,” Blake studied the tower keenly. “If we had enough dust, we could send out a signal. It wouldn’t be specific or have a message but if anyone were scanning the various CCT networks, it would cause a ripple. They’d be able to pinpoint the location.”

Weiss blinked. “Really? How do you know this?”

Blake flushed. “Uh – misspent youth?”

Jaune chuckled. “Interesting hobby.”

She elbowed him in the side, though not very hard. “It was how the White Fang would communicate without using official channels. We would hijack relay towers and send code through on different wavelengths. Unless they were looking for it, it would pass through the CCT undetected. If anyone is searching for us, though – they will be looking.”

A small flame of hope kindled inside but was quickly snuffed out.

There was just a small problem.

“I doubt this is enough dust,” Weiss tapped her satchel, eyebrow arched.

Blake shook her head. “No. We’d need more. A lot more. If those vehicles hadn’t been drained, I could have used those...”

It was a nice thought.

Then there was the laboratory.

This door was several inches thick of reinforced dust steel, electronically locked. The windows were double glazed bulletproof glass and it took several powerful, semblance enhanced kicks for Jaune to shatter the frame and gain entry. Grimm proofing buildings often meant that even Huntsmen had trouble breaking in.

They’d been conducting research with the use of chemicals but what that research was, they didn’t know. Hard drives had been forcefully removed from computers and there wasn’t a scrap of paper to be found. Just unusual sealed vats containing a rather unappealing purple substance. They didn’t stick around much longer, fearing contamination even though they didn’t see any signs of leakage.

This had been a pretty sizable operation.

“This is starting to feel familiar,” Blake muttered. She shared a look with Weiss. “Don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?” he asked them.

Weiss grimaced. “Dr. Merlot.”

He’d heard about him and the horrors Team RWBY had to face. The artificially enhanced Grimm, stronger and faster, even more feral than the usual variety – and the dark truth about the destruction of Mountain Glenn. Merlot Industries had caused the deaths of thousands of people with their reckless conduct.

“You think this is him?” he asked seriously.

“An old facility, maybe,” Blake shrugged uneasily. “Though thirty years ago, they’d been focused on the Mt. Glenn expansion.”

Down by the water, there was a dock where large ships could easily moor. No boats had been left behind, though there were several dozen crates abandoned on the wharf, the familiar snowflake of the Schnee Dust Company displayed prominently on the side. Holding out her hand, Jaune passed his sword over to Weiss and he watched as she slipped the blade between a crack and wrenched open one of the crates.

It was still filled with rows upon rows of dust capsules, each one loaded with powdered dust. Fire, water, wind, ice, lightning, gravity – if there was a type, it was here.

It was just what they were looking for.

“That’s a lot of dust,” Blake pried open one of the other crates using her spear and it was much the same. “They just left it here. Why?”

“They left in a hurry,” Jaune said. The weapons, the vehicles, and this dust – they’d hauled it down to the wharf but abandoned it here. They didn’t have time to load it. Just the dust on its own would cost a small fortune. Add in the guns and ammunition and military vehicles, it wasn’t the type of stuff you just left behind if you could help it. And that wasn’t even taking into account the things like scavenged hard drives and the ruined servers. “Something forced them off the island.”

“But what?” Weiss met their eyes. “We’ve been here over a week. There aren’t any Grimm.”

There weren’t even regular Grimm, let alone mutated ones.

It didn’t make sense.

“This enough dust for you?” Jaune asked and Blake grinned.

“More than enough.”

They had a plan, then.

There was still one last place to check, though.

The last building was almost as big as the barracks and vaguely resembled a hanger, the only building with a curved roof instead of the usual flat concrete. It took a little bit of effort to force the bay doors open, pulling them apart and when they finally shifted with a loud groan, what they found inside was puzzling.

The room was large with metal walkways erected around the outer walls, shielded by reinforced glass and overlooking the entire structure. The floor was completely clear in all directions, emotionless concrete with a large steel vault door built into the ground in the very center; a vault door that was wide open.

The ground around the entrance was pitted with what looked like gunfire damage.

Jaune approached with caution, his boots silent as he peered down into the darkness. There were stairs but he couldn’t see further in, the way shrouded in pitch black shadow. Glancing at the pitted concrete, he saw old bullets deformed from striking the hard surface.

“Can you see anything?” he asked Blake.

“Just stairs,” she said, her faunus heritage allowing her to see things they couldn’t. “They go down quite far... they’re damaged.”

“Damaged?” Weiss questioned. “How?”

“Claws,” Blake said grimly. “I can also see blood. Old stains.”

Grimm, then. Maybe worse.

“I think we should go,” Jaune said, voice urgent.

“I agree,” Weiss followed up, already moving back towards the entrance.

They’d barely taken a couple of steps when they heard something move from down below, something hard and coarse scraping against stone. They tensed, straining their hearing.

“Something is coming,” Blake hissed quietly, her cat ears flicking wildly. “Move!”

Not a moment too soon. Jaune felt his heart rate spike as something large surged from the hole, a blur of black, white and purple. Raising his shield, he grunted as a powerful force slammed into him, lifting him off his feet. He tumbled through the air and crashed through the bay doors, steel buckling as his aura flared in protection. When he hit the ground, he rolled for several meters before coming to a stop.

“Jaune!” Weiss screamed – followed by the sound of gunfire. A roar of primal hatred tore through the air, the hair on his neck rising in alarm. Scrambling to his feet, he saw a flash of white and then Weiss careened out of the building, skidding across the ground.

“Weiss!”

He rushed to her side as Blake’s new pistol cracked, a constant cry. Just as he reached Weiss’ side, Blake came scurrying out, several clones leaping in all directions. The massive Grimm followed, confused by Blake’s semblance and lunging after one of the copies.

“What the hell is that?” he shouted, helping his girlfriend to her feet. She was unharmed, though a little dazed from being smacked around.

It looked like a Beowolf – but it was much, much larger. It towered over them at ten feet at least with thick, muscular arms and legs, standing upright and eclipsing even the largest Ursa Major he had ever witnessed. Its face was elongated and shielded by heavy bone plating, its chest similarly shielded by a thick, wide breastplate of bone. Long, sharp claws tore through concrete like butter as it swung wildly at the group of Blake’s, great big rends carved into the side of the building. Upon its back were a series of jagged spikes, though these oozed a malevolent purple light. In fact, the usual red etchings and crimson eyes were missing, instead replaced by a pulsing violet. Even the inky black of its fur was cracked with a web of purple veins, pulsing as it screeched in frustration.

This was unlike anything he had seen before.

“Is this one of Merlot’s?” he asked as it continued to thrash after Blake’s clones, buying them time to recover.

Weiss frowned. “The color is different. The ones we faced were green.”

“Here it comes!” Blake yelled, the last of the clones pulverized, its attention now focused solely on them.

“Weiss, support us with covering fire,” he immediately fell into his role of leader. Concentrating, his semblance bloomed to life and flowed into Weiss’ body, empowering her. Any aura she had lost was instantly restored and more. “Summon Grimm when you can to help. Blake!”

Amber eyes met blue.

“You’re with me,” he said, holding out a hand. She rushed over and clasped hands, his semblance feeding into her. “Run distraction and attack in the chaos. I’m going straight in.”

She nodded, brow set. “Right.”

“Let's move.”

It charged at them in a fury, the ground quaking from each running step it took. Blake took off at once, flying through the air, her spear at the ready. It swung at her and missed, more clones appearing from the shadows and flooding the area in bodies. Glyphs appeared around them as white flocks of Nevermore poured forth, screeching as they pelted the massive Beowolf in the confusion. Shouldering her rifle, Weiss took aim.

“Go,” she said and then he was moving, body wreathed in white-gold flame. Speed, strength, reflexes, all amplified to the limit, Crocea Mors flashing as he swung with deadly intent.

His blade tasted blood, slicing through black flesh though at once, Jaune felt resistance. Even empowered, his sword only managed to sink a few inches. Enough to cause damage but on a regular Grimm, he would have taken a limb.

Jaune ducked as it swung a huge arm at him, feeling wind gust above his head. Setting his stance, he was about to lunge when he was forced to defend, bringing his shield around to block as it kicked him, the force of the blow rattling his bones as he tanked it directly, his aura bleeding off the shockwave that passed through his body.

The hell was that!? Since when could a Beowolf kick like a person?

Blake vaulted in from above, lashing out with her spear. Blood sprayed through the air as she slashed the back of its neck but it was only shallow, unable to penetrate any deeper. In a blur, the Grimm lashed out at her and if not for a clone intercepting her, she’d have been swatted aside. The clone was destroyed at once, though it left behind a present, ice dust flash freezing its hand.

The Grimm roared in agony and flexed its hand, the ice shattering.

“Move!”

Jaune obeyed at once, rolling away as a stream of fire slammed into the Grimm. It thrashed as the scent of burning flesh filled the air, screeching wildly. The flock of Nevermore attacked from all directions, tearing and pecking furiously but with a wide sweep, they were dashed aside.

Blake landed beside him. “This thing is tough to hurt.”

Still on fire, it zeroed in on them and charged. They split, Jaune moving right while Blake went left. Deciding that he was the easier target to catch, it went for him. A large black glyph appeared between them, halting its momentum and Jaune struck, thrusting at its leg. Again his sword pierced flesh and sunk in an inch before stopping, and with a vicious twist he tore Crocea Mors out and back peddled as it destroyed Weiss’ barrier and slammed the ground he previously occupied.

He was going to have to hit it a lot harder than that to hurt it.

More Blake’s swarmed in a confusing melee, the mutated Grimm thrashing around with wide, sweeping swings. Flipping over one such swipe, Blake slashed along its arm and down its side, a vicious rend that only seemed to enrage the beast. She avoided its first retaliatory strike but couldn’t avoid the second completely, claws clipping her and sending her flying.

“Blake!” Weiss yelled – before kneeling on the ground, a sprawling glyph appearing beneath her. It spun quickly, kicking up wind and suddenly she was rising up into the air, atop the shoulders of a resplendent suit of armor. The Arma Gigas slammed the ground in challenge.

The Beowolf roared back, accepting. Crouching low, it leapt forward in a blur, meeting the summon in a clash of bone and steel. While the summon could match it in strength, it couldn’t keep up in speed, wicked claws slashing through white armor with ease. Ice dust exploded against the Grimm’s face, and it reeled in pain, giving the Arma Gigas the opening it required.

With a powerful swing, its massive sword attempted to cut the Beowolf in half. A howl of rage and agony briefly deafened them all as the Grimm was lifted off its feet, the keen edge of the sword digging deep. It sank halfway through its body and vile, dark blood spewed forth – but then with a disturbing twitch, its jaw opened wide, almost dislocating itself as a putrid purple miasma belched from its maw.

“Weiss, move!” Jaune shouted and she managed to get away, moments before her summon was engulfed. They watched in shock as the steel plates of its armor melted as if corroded with acid, eaten away at a furious pace. The Arma Gigas collapsed in on itself in seconds, crumpling – leaving only a sword and a gauntleted hand behind, before that too vanished in motes of white light.

Jaune tensed.

That was not something they wanted to be hit with.

Blood poured down its side but it seemed unconcerned, the violet light that suffused its body glowing brightly. Then it moved in a flash, a blur that they struggled to keep up with, Weiss crying out as she was slammed aside and into the side of a building, her aura flaring as the concrete cracked.

Jaune grit his teeth as he pushed his amplification to the limit, the asphalt beneath his boots sinking as he moved. Blake thrust at its back but the spear head sunk only so deep, barely phasing the creature as it snapped at Weiss with powerful jaws. Its long, sharp fangs latched onto her shoulder and she screamed, aura flickering and with a roar of anger, Jaune slammed into the Beowolf with everything he had.

White-gold light flashed, the sound of a gong ringing in their ears and the Grimm stumbled as if struck by a heavy weight. Jaune reeled for a moment from the recoil, body screaming even through the soothing properties of his aura before he tightened his grip on the pommel of his sword. Large clawed hands swiped at him, his shield tanking the blow before he retaliated with a powerful aura slash, this time doing some real damage. Black blood splashed across his face as Crocea Mors parted muscle and bone, a thick, muscled arm dropping to the ground.

Then he was airborne, kicked in the chest and sent careening into the side of a building with a crunch. Jaune gasped for breath, winded from the blow, his brain rattling around in his skull.

He heard Blake shout something and he only had a second before the Grimm was on him. That wicked maw opened and he saw the beginnings of its attack forming, point blank in his face and without thought, he swung with everything he had, uppercutting it with every ounce of strength he could muster. Its mouth snapped shut with a boom as its head rocked back and then Blake was screaming, aura coating the head of her spear. It pierced through the throat of the Beowolf in a geyser of blood, finally doing some real harm.

It thrashed wildly, gurgling as bloody ichor flowed down its throat. Blake was tossed off like an unruly cat, though the spear remained lodged in its neck, the tip protruding out the front. It attempted to grasp at the shaft but it couldn’t reach, screeching pitifully as it slammed into the surrounding buildings, trying to dislodge the weapon.

“Finish it!” Weiss’ voice filled the air.

Gathering his aura, Jaune calmed his racing heart, both hands clasped around the hilt of his blade. His semblance bled off him in waves, flame-like in appearance as he gathered all of his strength, all of his resolve.

Taking a steadying breath, he stepped forward and blurred.

The Grimm saw him coming too late, raising its remaining arm in a paltry block. Crocea Mors sung with a ring of steel, his aura slash extending well beyond the reach of his blade. Flesh and bone were cut as he executed one of the very first slashes Pyrrha ever taught him, his sword rising through arm and the side of its chest, a fountain of gore exploding from its torso as he raced by.

Jaune came to a stop, Crocea Mors pointed upwards towards the sky, his body fully extended. There was a moment of tranquil stillness and then with a choked cry, the Beowolf fell to the ground with a crash, hissing with malice as the violet light slowly dimmed in its eyes. A moment later, its flesh began to dissolve, black smoky tendrils curling from its corpse.

It was dead.

Slowly, Jaune lowered his sword.

Blake ran up to him, her hands quickly fussing across his body. “Are you okay?”

He smiled at her, warmed by the concern he saw in her eyes.

“I’m fine.”

He was still a little jittery, his adrenaline still surging strongly but he was beginning to calm down. Jaune noticed how rigid her cat ears were, perked up, alert and without thought, he reached out and caressed them. Blake shivered, almost melting against him as a purr rumbled deep in her throat.

“Did you just...?”

Blake shook his hand off. “No!”

“Thanks for checking up on me,” Weiss walked over, voice full of sarcasm. “I’m perfectly fine, by the way.”

Blake flushed. “I – I was coming to check on you next.”

“I heard you purring from over there,” Weiss jerked her thumb over her shoulder.

“You aren’t hurt?” Jaune asked, reaching for Weiss. She smiled and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze.

“No,” she then turned to face the dissolving corpse. “Do you think that was the only one?”

He really hoped so. Fighting just one of these things was hard enough.

Blake grimaced. “We should close the vault, just in case.”

“Good idea,” if there were more, then at least they wouldn’t be able to get out. He hoped. “Let’s do that and then go collect the dust. Blake had some criminal activity to perform.”

She scowled as Weiss giggled behind her hand.