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Stand as Titan

Guiding Light had, for centuries now, sought out his partner. His Guardian. When earth offered nothing, and he found his purpose there ended, he reached out to the rest of his home - Sol. When even that failed, desperate, he pushed beyond it. Across the stars, he journeyed, seeking his Guardian. Until, at last and on a far-flung world, he found him.

Twisted_Fate_MK2 · Video Games
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20 Chs

VIII

XxX----XxX----XxX

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Inside, the office was surprisingly small and spartan. A bookcase took up one wall, and a painting stretched along most of the other, with a door in the far corner behind a simple, oaken desk covered in papers. A low, dark couch stretched along the wall beside the door they came in through, and an oddly old ceiling fan spun in the middle of the room, squeaking almost silently. It was almost a direct juxtaposition to the hallway outside, aside from the huge Beowolf head mounted on the wall - though whether it was a real trophy or merely an ornament, he couldn't guess.

"If you would just take a seat, I will call on the Warden."

"Sure." Branwen grunted, falling onto the couch with a grunt and tossing his feet up on the low, dark coffee table a foot away from it. "Pop a squat, kiddos. You'll be on your feet plenty in an hour or so."

"Fine." Adel sighed as she pushed through the door and turned, flopping onto the far end of the couch and pitching her legs up, into Alistair's lap when he sat down. "Whatever."

"Thought you were staying back there…"

"She changed her mind." Yatsuhashi smiled as he came in behind her. "Rather easily, I might add."

"I hate both of you."

"I'll stand." Cerulean sighed, leaning against the wall. Branwen gave him a look and he shrugged, bobbing his head to the door and, past it, the waiting area. "Too much sitting already."

"Fair." Branwen shrugged, turning to look up at the lumbering giant, Daichi, as he stepped around to the side of the table and neatly sat, folding his legs under himself and reaching up to tilt his sword to the side, towards the door, as he did. "Where you from, big'un?"

"I'm from-"

"Mistral?"

"No." He rumbled, "I studied in Vacuo."

"Huh." Branwen grunted, eyebrows rising in a weak sort of surprise. "Yeah, I can see it."

"I… Suppose?" The large man sighed, cocking his head to the side, away from the others, to speak to Cerulean standing behind him. "Are you going to be fighting with us?"

"Do you not want me to?"

"Coco?"

"Extra hands, extra health." She shrugged, "Just as long as you can actually, you know, fight. And know enough to keep clear enough so no one hits you because they didn't expect you there."

"I can fight." It was about the only thing he knew for sure about himself - before he died, he'd been a fighter of some sort. Even if he'd probably never know what sort, or how good he'd been, that much was a fact. "And I'll keep out of the way of the big sword."

"More than just that." Adel sighed, lifting her purse and turning it. With a flick, and an odd whirring, it suddenly.. Extended, out into a full, multi-barrel, minigun that she held aloft in one hand like it was weightless. With a sigh, and another flick, she collapsed it and sat the 'purse' by her side. "And Fox sometimes likes to slam little Air Dust capsules into Grimm. Which makes 'em pop. So watch out for that, too."

"Dust can do that?" He cocked his head, and Guiding Light hummed quietly in his ear, "I knew it was impressive, but that sort of explosive capability…"

"Impressive." He murmured, parroting the Ghost's last word.

"Thank you." The man smiled and bobbed his head, though he remained mostly staring downward, head cocked to almost point an ear at him. "However, I will likely not do so underground."

"That's-"

The door opening cut the older man off and they all turned as a broad-shouldered, well-built man with hard eyes set in a face that was far too soft for them stepped into the room, flanked by his assistant. He was dressed in a white suit, with gold embossments on the elbows and pockets, with a darker white shirt and a bow and tie combination that hung down to his waist. He ran his fingers through his brushy white moustache as he took them in and reached up, adjusting the wide-brimmed hat on his head and sighing.

"Apologies, I was…" He grimaced, "Handling a business call."

"No stress." Adel grunted, "Just get us on our way."

"What she means is-"

"What she said, Branwen." The man grunted, wagging a finger at him and chuckling. "And yes, I know who you are."

"Yaaaay…."

"It pays to be informed. You'll live, I'm sure." He groaned, easing into the seat on the other side of the desk and raising his chin, regarding them all coldly. Finally, he said, "My mines have become infested with Scorponoks. My security staff tried to contain them, days ago. And failed, obviously. There are around forty of them. All standard size, from what I was told."

"And they came from…?"

"You say that like I should know where Grimm come from."

"Yeah." Qrow grunted, "Simple reason for that bein'... Cuz you do."

"Hardly."

"Save the plausible denyin' for the lawyers." Branwen scoffed, "You know. At least, you know where these did."

"Fine." He sighed, leaning his head on his hand and tapping a finger on his desk impatiently. "We expanded a tunnel, blasting as we do, and broke into a subterranean cavern. The Grimm came from there. Once you clear them out of my mines, my miners will lay charges and seal those areas."

"Blasting?" Branwen scoffed, "You and I both know that's illegal so close to the-"

"They were blasting underground, away from the city." The Warden cut him off with a flippant little wave, "Technically, further away than we are. Just, underground. And therefore, all perfectly legal and above board."

"Legal, maybe." Adel murmured, "But above board?"

"Far as we adults care, they are one and the same."

"I'm nineteen." She grunted, "Just as adult as you. And I certainly give a damn."

"Hmph. That remains to be seen." He smirked, and Cerulean felt his skin crawl a bit, and saw the woman scowl. But he moved on quickly, ignoring both of them if he noticed either at all, and turning back to Branwen. "Can you handle this, Huntsman? Or will Vale not be receiving its full shipment next week?"

"We'll handle it." The man scoffed, standing and grunting, "Just have your little toadie there get us where we need to be."

"Fine, fine." He sighed, "See to it."

"Yes, Warden."

She slipped past them and Cerulean pushed off the wall, following the others out and frowning thinly. He hated being here… It was a new emotion to him, more than the discomfort and dislike he'd felt before. Not strong enough to leave the prisoners to the Grimm - or abandon the Beacon team to fight them on their own - but still.

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Secretary Ironwood lead them on a surprisingly direct route, once they'd passed through the gate in front of the offices and then the one in front of the prison-mining complex. The area just inside the latter gate was fenced by a high, wire-mesh, double-layer fence that enclosed about forty feet around the gate and ran into the building past it. Aside from a wide, heavily reinforced, iron gate, it was empty, overlooked by a heavy gun set right over the gate.

Which was sheltered by a thin metal roof…

And manned.

"Security is our highest priority." The secretary said as he turned to follow them. "As you can see."

None of them responded, but that seemed to suit her just fine.

The door groaned as it opened, hinges protesting the sheer weight of the door, and Cerulean followed them all in. Inside was another fenced in area, part of a long sorting house lined by conveyors and prisoners chained in place, or in a few cases, locked into larger, clear glass boxes where they worked, hefting hammers to crack stone and sending it further up the line, where the other prisoners sorted out waste rock from the ore.

Raised catwalks ran along either side of the warehouse, dotted by intermittent, blocky entrenchments protecting doors. She lead them up a flight of stairs onto the catwalks and along them. They made their way outside, and then into another room, this one a smeltery, refining the ore sorted in the first, sending the refined blocks out of a wider opening, overlooked by a dozen guards, that lead the metal outside.

"They have a small army here…" Guiding Light hummed, "They could handle anything, nearly enough. Yet they need us?"

"Mhm…"

"Seems like you have the firepower to handle the Grimm." Branwen grunted, taking the words right out of he and his Ghost's mouths. "Why do you need us?"

"These are guards."

"Oh." Branwen grunted after a moment, "That was all? I figured there'd, I dunno, be an answer in that… Answer."

"Do you have a point?"

"You're snappy."

"Headmaster Ozpin warned me you can be an incorrigible flirt-"

"I can, if ya like."

"Oh god." Adel groaned, "Please, don't."

"He also said that you can be the most aggravating man on Remnant." She finished with a sigh. And then a quiet, wry chuckled, "And given you aren't hitting on me, or staring at my rear-"

"You don't know that."

"Actually, I do." She said, throwing a look over her shoulder and smiling roguishly. "Hunters aren't the only ones with Semblances, you know. And mine lets me track lines of sight. It's why I make such a good secretary. And security head, too, when the Warden finds a need for it."

"Because you know where to put your men." Cerulean realized, "That's… That's why you can't use any of the guards out here. If you do-"

"She'd lose sight of parts of the prison." Branwen grunted, voice low and gravelly, almost enough to be drowned out by the machines around them."Which would mean she'd have to slow production, or risk not seeing what they're doing…"

"My job is to maximise profits, you know."

"Ruthless bitch." The woman scowled and turned on him, and Branwen held up a hand, waving her down as he fished out his flask and took a swig from it. "Hey, hey, keep your top on, I didn't say it was bad. Actually, if you wanna take your top off, I wouldn't-"

"So we're on to the flirting, are we?"

"Maybe." The man chuckled, then cocked his head to the side. "Where'm I lookin'?"

"Both of you can look where you please." She sighed, turning and continuing on. "I'll take the compliment."

"Heh." Branwen flicked a look over his shoulder, "Caught ya lookin', Beret."

"Coco." She scoffed, "And… No she didn't. Yats?"

"I…" He hummed, "No comment."

"Yatsuhashi Daichi!"

He tuned out her playful sounding - or so he thought - scolding as they emerged from the back of the refinery and into an open area past it. It was only fifty feet wide, spilling out into the central yard, but the only thing in it was a large building that lay at an angle, climbing up the mountain about fifty feet. Conveyors rumbled out of it, a few of them diverting to the only one of the buildings without any conveyors trundling anything out of it while the rest passed by overhead and to the side, hugging the buildings to head into the sorting area.

Inside was a large, concrete area, with a pair of guards flanking the inside of the door and a lift at the back, large enough for a couple dozen people with conveyors rolling up from behind it and out through the wall.

"Simply press the red button, furthest to the left." Samantha said, "That one will send your team directly to the bottom level, which is where the infestation is. For security purposes, the lift will be raised after you descend."

"Grimm can't operate a lift."

"You'd be surprised, and protocols are clear." Branwen made to argue and Samantha added, hotly, "And are set by Vale, not us. If you dislike it, take it up with them, not us. We've no say in it beyond refusing the government contract."

"Hmph." Branwen grunted, turning and shrugging. "Whatever. C'mon, let's get the fuckery on with."

The descent was a shockingly slow one as the lift ground down, trembling and clanking as old, worn chains lowered it. It hitched, heaved, and groaned as it went, steadily lowering them past several concrete landings lit by ruddy orange lights anchored into the walls. Finally, tough, it came to a shuddering stop at a wider cavern lined by meandering lights staked into the wall all around. Tools were scattered around crates of loose ore packed high against the walls around both of the ragged holes that had been carved into the rock to either side of the platform.

"Oh great, two paths." Branwen growled as the lift began to rise behind them, "Of course they didn't tell us that…"

"Of course not." Adel sighed, "Branwen, take Fox and head down one. I'll take Yats and our friend-"

"Cerulean."

"-down the other." She finished, ignoring him wholly. And the agitated huff he blew out his nose for it. "They're melee, so I can support. You're worth two of us, so Fox should be all you need."

"Awful confident in me."

"Not you." Fox grunted, "Me. Speaking of, before we go in…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Adel sighed, turning and explaining quietly. "Look, we don't advertise but… Rather no one die because we didn't."

"Advertise… What?" Cerulean asked, flicking a look to Branwen beside him and fading him just as confused as Cerulean himself was.

"Fox's Semblance lets him… Well, he can read minds." She sighed, crossing her arms and shaking her head.

"He can-"

"What the fuck?!" Branwen snapped, pointing a long finger at him and snarling. "Hey, you- You in my head right now?"

"No, I'm not-"

"He doesn't do it to anyone, even bad guys, without asking first." Coco cut in, stepping between Branwen and Alistair as the older man took a step forward, toward him. "It takes concentration to put it on someone, and goes both ways unless he works at it. You'd hear him if he'd started using it on you, at least beyond the very low level ways it works."

"Which are…?"

"I can sense presences if I try." Alistair explained, "At least… In a general area."

"I'm staying close, Guardian." Guiding Light whispered quickly, "Right behind you."

"I can also feel emotion, a bit. Intent, at least." He added, "More relevantly… I can also set up a sort of 'channel' between people. So we can communicate mentally, at least while we're in range. It's temporary, and a bit invasive, but…"

"We have to split up." Yatsuhashi rumbled, "And down here, Scrolls won't be reliable."

"So you decided to ask if we want to be… Mind linked?" The three nodded and Branwen scoffed, "When the hell did you decide that?"

"When we got down." Adel explained, "We, uh, used the mind link. So we could talk privately. It's also why I didn't need to be at the meeting-"

"And, funnily, why she was there." Alistair smirked, "I nagged her into it."

"At least he's honest…"

"Fine, yeah, whatever…" Branwen sighed, scratching the back of his neck. "This, uh, link… Sounds useful. But, uh, don't think it's a good fit for me. Got secrets rattlin' around up here. Secrets I can't trust you not to find out about."

"We're the same, Guardian." Guiding Light murmured, "Who knows the consequences of this? Would he hear me, even? Through our link?"

"So do I." Cerulean agreed with his Ghost. "Thanks for the offer, but no. I don't want anyone in my head. Especially not people I just met and know next to nothing about… Uh, no offence, though."

"Good, now they can't possibly get offended." Guiding Light praised, "I saw that phrase all over ancient texts. Surely it must be useful."

"Fine." Adel snapped hotly, turning to storm off toward one of the tunnels while Yatsuhashi sighed and shook his head. "If you get buried or something, though, don't blame us when you can't get help."

"Or maybe they will get angry regardless…" Guiding Light murmured, "Because of course they will."

"Hmph."

"Motion!" Guiding Light hissed in his ear, "The right side tunnel!"

His rifle snapped up and he turned towards it a moment before the hissing, chittering sound echoed out from it. He heard Branwen swear and Coco barked an order, or a warning, as the first man-sized, white-armored, scorpion skittered out from the darkness. A heavy round from his rifle ripped through its front and sent it rolling, trailing smoke, as more hissing and chittering echoed out of the darkness.

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Mild addendum-

I was away visiting my sister for a week. I, in that time, forgot that Yats and Coco were staying behind while the others went in. I wrote a whole scene without knowing that. I added in a bit that explains their presence but…

It's sloppy, sorry, but I don't wanna rewrite the WHOLE THING and delay the chapter MORE.

Also, I had to cut the fight and move it to next chapter. Apologies for that, too. But time constraints are… Ugh.

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Lord Marshal :

In fairness… I don't believe it was all as gone as lore implies. Like, I'm sure people TALK about it being gone, but much like how they talk about it being gone now, hate will always exist. And besides, it's been centuries. Even if it WAS gone, divisions would arise. And stories and records would exist pre-Collapse that Guiding Light would have weaseled out and thus be referring to. He could even be referencing hate akin to tribal hate, hating competing tribes.

All division. All hate. Humanity does that.

There's a variety of sources you could elect to pick for GL's reference. I encourage you to simply go with what you prefer.

He was also referring to all of Sol. Not necessarily just the Last City itself.

Lord of Tentacle :

It's world building. Both Remnant and Sol. This story is meant for me to unwind in, to enjoy. Designing and describing environs does that. I sincerely, genuinely apologize if that isn't to your taste.

It also serves as an education point for Cerulean - WE may know all of this, but HE certainly doesn't.

MM Browsing :

She isn't related to James, at least not closely enough for it to matter. Think fifth cousin level of relation, lol, if any.

Cerulean's death and backstory won't come around for a WHILE, sorry to say.

Nine Yetis :

Ye. he isn't gonna get found out quite so soon, lol.