Novels2Search

Killer in the Croc

"We're at the Arsenal." Ruby said, trying to keep her voice soft "We're… surveying?... is that the word… Yeah, that."

She almost felt as though she didn't need to.

Getting to the Arsenal hadn't been a difficult task. After mustering the strength to move past what they'd seen at the Prison gates, their pace had quickened. Even as the weather had begun to turn against them, the young huntress knew that they could not afford to slow. The winds blew hard against them, and the rain struck them in fat droplets as the shower grew into a mid-summer storm. Distant thunder rolled through the air like cannon fire, and she'd almost feared they were too late. That the White Fang may have begun using the Artillery for some other nefarious purpose. It was a strange feeling to her to be comforted instead by the overhead flashes of lightning that preceded them. By the faint re-assurance that the White Fang hadn't begun actively sieging Vale alongside their thievery.

She knew the re-assurance would not last long.

A short jaunt and climb up the hillside later, and the huntresses and huntsman reached a thin wood-line. The edge of a small ring of trees that surrounded the Arsenal. Their path from the prison cutting through it. Through the woods they went, for but a brief distance, before they saw the Arsenal. Walls of hewn stone and mortar twenty feet high and capped by coils of razor wire. The only immediate entrance they could see lay at the end of their path. An archway beyond the wall, a barrier and guard post blocking the way. Both of which lay shattered along the ground, no sign of those who may have once manned it.

None of those present chose to dwell on what may have become of them.

Instead they spoke briefly among themselves as the rain continued to build. Understanding that what they did would carry consequences, should they fail, the five of them came to a decision. One that led to them needing a better view of the Arsenal.

Ruby and Blake chose to approach the Arsenal from separate points, seeking higher ground. Vantage points where they may spy inward beyond the walls.

With ease they'd scaled the trees that encompassed the Arsenal walls, and peered down into the camp. Letting her gaze pass through the scope of Crescent Rose

The Arsenal was a wide space, beyond the walls. No structures within rose above the upper lip of the walls. Instead choosing to sprawl along the ground at length. The only high points within were the walkway along the wall itself, beyond the razor wire. The space was filled with weaponry she was familiar with from old war movies and video games. Artillery pieces, guns so massive they needed to be set to wheels to be properly moved and aimed. If not, then mounted to purpose built vehicles. Some long, some short, a few small enough they hardly seemed any more special than what a huntsman might carry. Then ones so large she thought it a wonder they moved at all. Given a chance she would've loved to take the time and just admire them for what they were.

But there were more pressing matters in her sight.

She did her best to ignore the bodies she saw strewn about, few though they were. She didn't want to think about them. Not when there were more demanding issues.

Aside from the Artillery pieces that filled the yard, two other items filled the space. One was a sort of rounded metal hut that Ruby also recognized from old war movies. The kind made of ridged sheet metal that curved over itself. The name escaped her, they were a type of hut, a whats-it by any other name.

Aside from the whats-its huts, of which there were at least a dozen, there sat another two dozen Bull-heads. The winged craft used by Vale, Beacon, and Huntsmen alike. Only a small contingent of what could be found in the kingdom, but valuable all the same.

Evidenced by the way Ruby watched the White Fang, as raindrops and wind pelted her, scurrying about. Moving between the huts and the artillery. There was only one thing she could surmise they were attempting to do.

"Ok." The Courier answered through Ruby's open Scroll "How's it looking?"

"… Not good." Ruby decided "They got a bunch of people here, a couple wearing uniforms… They're working fast, and we're trying to figure out what we need to do to stop them…" She paused "… Okay, I think we know what we're doing. We can't wait for you to get here, they're going to escape if we don't do something."

Ruby motioned to her teammates waiting below, Weiss, Yang, and Sun. Ruby then motioned to Blake, perched in a distant tree, and she began to return.

"I understand." Six said, pausing himself "…I'll be with you as fast as I can. I've got faith you can do this."

"We do to." Ruby said, giving a smile she herself did not entirely feel. "We're going to have to do this now, see you soon."

"Same." Six finished.

Without a moment's pause, the line between them closed.

Ruby let out an uneasy breath and let herself fall off her perch in the tree. She fell silently and easily through the air, letting her aura slow and control her fall as she approached the ground. Her cape fanned out around her as she touched down, planting her feet as she did. A moment more and Blake swung out of the trees beside her, skidding to a halt.

"You guys heard Six?" Ruby asked.

"We'll have to do this without him." Weiss affirmed "This isn't the first time we've had to fight the White Fang, and he wasn't around for that either."

"Where'd he go that night anyway?" Sun asked "He just kinda came back all banged up."

"Ask him the next time you see him." Yang said dimly, "We've got to do this now, if we're going to do it."

"Yeah…" Ruby said, watching her sister carefully "… There isn't really any other way inside. We either go through the front door, or go over the wall. Blake, how did things look from your side?"

"There weren't any other ways in." Blake confirmed, shifting nervously "I think I'd be able to make it over the wall, we all probably could if we tried. But I don't think it would help us."

"Maybe not, but getting stuck at the front wouldn't help either." Weiss hemmed, resting the tip of her weapon in the dirt "But if we come at them from multiple angles we could probably avoid that. Only then we wouldn't all be able to work together."

Ruby paused for a moment, thinking. Trying to decide what would be the best course of action based on everything that had transpired around her. She knew how disastrous simply charging in could end, having nearly experienced it herself. But simply sneaking around wouldn't solve the issue either. Her partner, however, had given her a useful seed of information. She knew she wasn't good at making plans, but for a spur of the moment one, Ruby knew she could've done worse.

"We'll do both." Ruby said, motioning towards the Arsenal walls. "Weiss, you and Yang can take the front, and draw everyone's attention. Blake, Sun, and I can go over the wall and help cover you by making sure you have a clearer path. That way we're able to focus on anyone who's too spread out, while still having an attack with some power behind it."

Her teammates looked at her for a moment, considering the plan she'd laid out before them. Ruby knew that it wasn't some work of genius. Strategy was something Weiss was better suited for. But strategy required time, something which they all knew they lacked.

A part of her wished the Courier had been able to come join them. She knew that relying on him in such a fashion was a crutch. But at the same time, it always seemed like he had a plan. Or barring that, always seemed to be prepared to react to whatever was coming. She couldn't tell if that was something natural to him, or a result of living in a world such as his Wasteland.

The moment passed, and Weiss spoke. "I think it could work." She agreed, smiling "We don't really have much time for a better plan, do we?"

As if hearing her words, through the wind and rain, a sound began to echo over the walls of the arsenal. A high pitched shriek, that grew into a whine and wail. The spooling of turbines. Peering through the rain, the young huntresses and huntsman looked towards the arsenal. They watched as a pair of lights appeared over the Arsenal, rising out from it. One of the bullheads that'd been kept within. Then, without hesitation, the vehicle peeled off and away from the walls of the Arsenal. It disappeared beyond the treetops, away from them. The first of what could be many.

"It'll have to do." Blake said, motioning to Sun. "C'mon, I'll show you where you can jump from."

"Cool." Sun said, choosing to follow after. The two quickly racing off the path and into the wood line. Disappearing into the gloom of the rain filled trees.

Weiss suppressed a shiver as a cold wind caught the rain and blew against her coat. While her petticoat offered more coverage than her normal attire, she still felt it a bit thin for the amount of rain. She was sure she was slowly being drenched. She wasn't sure How Yang wasn't feeling it, being dressed in even less.

"I'll go around the other side." Ruby said "I'll let you know when I'm in position, then we'll wait on you guys, ok?"

"I can do that." Weiss agreed, nodding as she looked at Yang "How do you want to do this?"

Yang didn't answer. Which drew both the heiress and her younger sister to regard her. She was standing close to them, arms hugged about herself tightly. Her clothes were wetted by the rain, her normally voluminous hair weighed down around her head. She shook, slightly, as the wind blew against them. Her lilac eyes focused on the ground. As far as Weiss could tell she was, indeed, being affected by the cold that the storm carried with it. Even so, she could tell there was something else wrong with the image in front of her. She felt as though she was looking at Blake more than Yang.

"Yang?" Ruby asked, trying to get her sister's attention.

Yang, however, did not rise to meet her gaze, nor suddenly blossom against the winds the buffeted her. She merely stood against them, as she nodded, a small sign to show, yes, she'd heard them. Or, yes, she was in agreement with the plan. Or simply, yes, and little more.

"… Is something wrong Yang?" Ruby asked, feeling both the pressure of their circumstances, and the desire to stop and help her sibling.

"… No, I'm fine." Yang said, mustering her strength. Calmly, she began to step forward. "Let's get into place Weiss, we've got to hurry, right?"

"Um… right." Weiss answered, nodding as Yang began to move ahead of her.

Weiss looked toward her partner, her brow raised silently, curiously. The only answer she received was from Ruby, who nodded in acknowledgement, but could only shrug as an explanation. After everything that had transpired around them throughout the evening, neither could tell where the issue lay. Only that more stood on the horizon, and they were expected to meet them sooner.

For all the trouble leaving issues to fester may cause, they had little other choice at that moment.

Allowing the conversation to fall, Weiss moved to follow Yang as Ruby raced back up into the trees. Her body briefly melding into the wind and rain as a flurry of petals and errant gusts. Intangibly whispering and whipping through the space weightlessly and pointedly. She formed back into herself as she reached the lowest bough of the tree and kicked off it, once more losing her shape. With ease she flew higher and higher as she raced closer to the walls of the Arsenal. Only briefly reforming on the limbs and crooks of the tree so that she may find her balance, catch her breath,

Until, all at once, she found herself over the walls and hovering in the dark air over the Arsenal. Only barely beyond the reach of the light posts that illuminated the space. She could see the White Fang as they hurried beneath her, running between the whats-its and the Bullheads. Some attempting to move what artillery they could closer to the Bullheads, as more began to Spool. Others leaving the Whats-its with their arms laden with crates. Munitions, weapons, tools and more. Everything and Anything Vale may need in the event of an incursion, but a lack of hunters to aid them.

Now being stolen by those who would certainly use them for ill-intent.

Ruby let herself fall once more, gliding down onto one of the Whats-its, just barely beyond the glow of the lights. She endeavored to make it so she landed as softly as possible. Not knowing just how thin the material was with the interior of the Whats-it. Though Ruby landed with aplomb, and was happy she didn't stumble off the rounded surface. Even as it was slicked with rain and the wind whistled around her. She balanced herself and surveyed the Arsenal that now surrounded her. A hand slipped down to her scroll, and she spoke.

"I'm inside, on top of one of those metal-tent thingies." Ruby said, unfurling Crescent Rose from behind her. She knelt down as her weapon transitioned into its rifle configuration. The blade of the weapon split into a bi-pod, and she balanced it on the roof, kneeling. "I can see the front gate."

"We're moving in now." Blake spoke.

Ruby tried to see where her teammates was entering from, but couldn't see her. She blended well into the shadows near the walls passing beyond them as though she were a specter. Sun however, was not as invisible and intangible. Ruby spied him as he touched down onto the walkway that ringed the wall. He spied the space below, then swung down off the walkway, down to ground level.

"I'm in." Sun said "Already took one down."

"I'm not far from the entrance." Blake added "I'm ready."

"Alright." Ruby said, surveying the White Fang on the ground below. She watched them briefly, as she began to take aim, looking for anyone who might be leading them all. Though she found it a tough assignment. They all looked the same and the chaos of their raid made distinguishing a worthwhile target difficult. But she knew simply picking a random target wouldn't be very helpful. If she was going to be taking shots at anyone, she'd make sure it was at the ones that were running things. Though she had some idea what she should be looking for.

If movies and videogames had taught her anything: Go for anyone dressed different, or bigger than the rest. They were almost always the people in charge, or were just more dangerous.

As she surveyed the area, she spied someone who might be worth focusing her attention on. One particular member who was currently walking among the rows or artillery pieces. They weren't wearing the uniform, but Ruby was sure he was one by the mask he wore over his eyes. He was gigantic compared to the rest of the White Fang around him. Practically the size of Yatsuhashi. While she wasn't accustomed to shooting at people, she knew a larger target was an easier one.

"Yang, Weiss, we're ready when you are." Ruby spoke, relaxing herself for the shot.

All at once the front entrance to the Arsenal crashed inward. Gunfire echoed from Yang as she flew like a rocket into the space, colliding with whoever stood in her path. In her periphery, Ruby watched as the White Fang were blown back by her sister's approach. But in Ruby's direct line of sight, she could still see the giant White Fang. Around him, the others began to panic, rushing to see what was happening.

The Giant White Fang merely looked off in the direction, curiously, calmly as someone strode beside him.

Ruby's aim steadied as she let out a slow breath. Crescent Rose pressed tight into her shoulder as she aimed. So close that she didn't need to worry about trajectory or wind speed. It was sniping at its most bare and basic. Odds of missing: none.

Ruby pulled the trigger.

As Three Hundred pounds of muscle and hate launched at me, there was only one thing I could think to do.

Get the fuck out of the way.

Clark's rifle dipped out of the way as I all but threw myself to the aside. Narrowly avoiding Waylon as he barreled down on me. Even as I did, he was already turning to follow me. He moved with an agility and nimbleness that shouldn't have been afforded for someone his size. Even with the open ground of the corridor for us to move in, it felt as though I couldn't move fast enough.

But I did, barely. My shoulder scraped against the wall as I went, but I was able to rebound off it, steady myself. Waylon on the other hand, caught a handful of masonry as he collided with it. Heard the claws on his hand scrape the concrete and stone with the shrill noise of a chisel. Felt shards of it impact my back, pelting my coat, the respirator extension on my back. That was probably fine, I rarely connected to it anyway. Put it on the list of things to fix if I survived tonight.

I stumbled forward a step, spun around, fired a pair of point-blank shots on Waylon and took off running. Now with the open corridor and the hallway in front of me. Having gone toe-to-toe with Waylon in the past, it wasn't an experience I was keen to repeat.

Unfortunately, Waylon very much did want to repeat it and was going to have his rematch if it killed me. I could hear him behind me as I Bolted down the corridor, away from the barricaded doors. The brace on his leg slamming against the ground at an off-beat rhythm. One that seemed to get faster each time it furiously struck the ground.

I poured my aura into my legs and kept running. Knowing for a brief moment I would be able to keep ahead of him. That was all I could think of doing in the moment. Putting some breathing room between myself and him. VATs could stretch a second into ten, a dozen into an eternity. But they weren't going to matter if nothing I threw at him did any lasting damage. A frightening reality, given he'd tanked multiple hits from Clark's rifle.

The end of the corridor came racing towards us, and I skidded hard around it. Forced back down the way I'd come, towards the camera room with Penny. The inmates I'd left behind were still there. Including the one who'd been smart enough to quit while he was ahead. He'd picked himself up and was trying to wake one of his buddies. His gaze tracked up to me for a moment as I rounded past him, bounding over the bodies of one of his other friends. I kept running as the inmate looked away from me, down the corridor.

Then Waylon came crashing around the corner, barreling into them. He must not have expected to crash into someone other than me, and they crashed to the ground. Momentum causing them to tumble all the way to the wall. Taking a chance, I spun back around briefly, slinging the muzzle of Clark's rifle up. I opened VATs for the split second I would need to aim. Was treated to the prolonged sight of Waylon having smashed the inmate against the wall. Hard enough that it'd caved his chest in and crushed his skull. Blood was smeared along the floor where they'd tumbled, wounds ripped open by Waylon's scales and claws. From the way Waylon was pushing off of him, trying to rise, I wouldn't have been surprised if the inmate would wind up disemboweled.

For his sake I was hoping the impact had killed him.

VATs closed and I fired a trio of shots, clipping Waylon's shoulders and planting one in his head. Something I'd hoped would've been enough to end things then. But it wasn't, as Waylon's razor toothed mug craned up to glare at me.

I spun back around and resumed running in the fastest direction away from him. Straight ahead, in that case.

No sooner had I begun moving than something slammed into me from behind and sent me flying forward. Caught myself against the ground and rolled with the hit, as something tried to tangle me up. Managed to keep momentum enough to launch back to my feet, even as my aura flickered. A brief glance to the side showed the mangled body of a prisoner. The damage was worse up close than it'd been at a distance.

I could feel the draw on my aura as I pushed myself to run even faster. The unexpected hit left its mark, as the earlier blows did. My aura wasn't broken yet, but I wasn't going to get the time I needed to re-enforce it. Not while I had Waylon nipping at my heels. Which he still was. I could hear him grunting and snarling as he scrambled back to his feet and resumed chasing me. The syncopated rhythm of his brace crashing to the ground with every other step like some massive engine trying to turn over.

Getting faster and gaining on me with every step.

Another corridor came up on my right and I turned sharply down it. Something to break line of sight with Waylon. Even if he knew I'd made the turn down it, the less time I could spend where he saw me the better. Couldn't tell how good his senses were over a distance. He grabbed me through a wall the last time we'd fought, but I couldn't tell if that'd been guess work or if he'd actually known.

The corridor I cut down into had a number of doors along it, offices and conference rooms. Bull pens, maybe. Each one with massive windows that showed the interior of each room and their contents. But each was also dark, blacked out. No sense in having the lights on if no one was home. I ran a couple paces down the corridor and tried one of the doors, finding it unlocked. Without missing a beat I ran into the room and carefully closed the door before hitting the deck. Immediately cramming myself underneath the windowsill. Out of sight of the hallway.

Waylon's footsteps scraped around the corner into the corner door, I could hear them through the wall. Muffled but there, he was breathing in the hard, frenzied and ragged way adrenaline gets you. How a mix of excitement and bloodlust kicks your heart into gear for a chase or fight. I'd have been breathing the same way, if I didn't value my focus more.

Unlike what I'd hoped though Waylon didn't go careening down the corridor. I heard him stomp a few paces into the corridor, then stomp to a halt. His breath still came in hard, ragged bursts, a reptilian hiss rasping through it. With every breath he moved, maybe twisted, looking about and searching. I couldn't see him, not without chancing him seeing me. I kept my head low and breathing slow, grip tight on Clark's rifle, legs tensed against the wall. Ready to kick off it at a moment's notice, launch myself away from the window and door.

My eyes quickly scanned the interior of the room. As I'd thought, a bullpen. A podium at the front of the room, rows of heavy wood tables. The far side of the room was a solid wall, but the left corner of it had a door in the adjoined wall. Connecting to the next room down. Hadn't gone far enough to see what that one was.

Waylon moved.

The shrill shattering of glass echoed through the room mixing with the grating rumble of broken masonry. The heavy rumble of several hundred pounds of stone cascading against the ground. It shook the floor as it impacted, and I could hear Waylon's roar.

But he'd chosen the wrong room.

He'd gone for the one across the hall.

I saw my window and took it.

Carefully, I began to crawl across the floor, keeping low to the ground, under the tables. I tried to restore my aura as I moved, but I could feel my nerves making that difficult. As I move, I gripped my scroll.

"Penny… Penny, are you there?" I asked, keeping my voice low, turning the audio of my scroll lower, just in case.

"… I'm here, what's wrong?" Penny asked, mirroring my tone in a way I'd have found funny if I wasn't currently sneaking away from rabid death. Though I was glad she'd known enough to assume something had gone wrong.

"I closed the way to Oakholme, for now at least." I explained "The inmates should be sealed, but we've got a problem. One of them got loose."

"Which one?" Penny asked curiously "Going by your compiled record you should-"

"A big one." I said, cutting her off. Cautiously, I curled my way around the edge of a table. "One I fought before and had left for the police to deal with. He was a tough customer then, but something's different now. I need to know if the guards here have dealt with him before. Can you access the prison records?"

"… No, not by myself." Penny answered after a moment, probably having just tried to see if she could "One second…"

At that moment, there was another shift in the masonry beyond the wall, and I could hear Waylon again. He'd moved back out into the corridor. Carefully, I peered from beyond the table while keeping to the ground. Waylon was in the hall again, illuminated by the sparse lighting. Silhouetted by it as he lumbered back into the hallway. His head slowly trailing back and forth as his body shook raggedly. His hissing breath still sniffing the air.

He crossed the hall in a swift motion and sent a fist through the glass. The pane shattered inward in a peculiar fashion. Instead of the normal sharp and needle-like shard I'd expected, it broke in large, geometrical chunks. Some sort of reinforced glass. Waylon broke it anyway, and it shattered inward.

I didn't freeze, but I didn't move either. My head ducked back beneath the table and I tried to press myself further against the floor. Make myself as camouflaged as possible in the dark room.

Waylon didn't move. Unlike before, he didn't immediately tear through the wall like it was tissue paper. Instead, he stayed waiting there in the window. A dark shadow against the brighter backdrop. His body tensing with every breath as he hissed, taking in the air. Every exhale like the pressure release on a boiler or reactor. A deep hissing note that was only barely keeping the system from overloading and bursting. Barely constrained.

Whatever had changed between when we'd first fought and now, it made a difference. Had I encountered this Waylon back when I was first learning to use aura, I'd have been a dead man. Still could be.

Cautiously, the hand over my scroll tapped the mute button.

For five eternal seconds Waylon peered through the broken window into the darkness, and I remained frozen. Certain that any movement or noise might prove to him I was there.

Then, all at once, he about-faced and moved further into the corridor. He moved on a diagonal to the next room down the corridor, across the hall.

Carefully, I let myself breathe and slowly began to move again. My finger ghosted over the mute button on my scroll as I moved from cover.

"-it was a big incident, and apparently a few of the guards needed to be evacuated for emergency treatment." Penny explained, completely missing what had happened.

"What?" I asked, trying to get caught up.

"Waylon mauling several of the guards." Penny said, confused "I was trying to tell you why he was put in the Oakholme wing."

"Penny, I've got him trying to hunt me down like a rat." I told her, trying to keep myself calm "I need to know how to- um… neutralize him. Or at least get away from him." My thoughts swirled as I tried to piece the parts of the conversation together. "… How'd the guards deal with him?"

"… Mark says he's not entirely sure." Penny explained "He was off that day and had to file the recordings after the fact… Waylon's file has it recorded that his semblance seems to discard his aura's protection in exchange for massive boosts to his power, endurance, and healing. The video evidence also suggests it massively boosts his aggression as well. With prolonged activity only increasing the effects."

Translation: Waylon was getting more dangerous with each passing second.

"But how did they stop him?" I pressed "I need details Penny, he's currently trying to eat my heart."

"Mark's looking, but he needs a moment." Penny said, trying to be soothing "I'm trying to find you on the cameras now…"

Not feeling at all soothed, hearing Waylon out in the corridor, I carefully reloaded Clark's rifle. Even if he was healing from the damage done, if enough of it stacked up it would start to matter. I hoped. It was better than not even trying.

Waylon roared, and I could hear it echo through the corridor. It was something animalistic and furious. I was a rat in a box waiting for the cat to come for a bite.

I finally reached the back wall of the room and began to creep towards the door. Taking my chance, I got high enough to unlock the door and crept into the next room. My guess had been accurate again, a personal office. A few degrees and commendations pointed to it belonging to a member of the upper ranks in the prison. But the room was dark too, smaller. Either they hadn't been here this evening or had been called away. They had a desk with some form of terminal on it. If I had time I could've searched through it for some record of what'd happened with Waylon myself. But if I had that kind of time, I wouldn't have needed to. There was another door along the wall that led to the corridor.

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Waylon's silhouette was looming in it.

Quickly I moved behind the desk, diving under it into the leg space. Couldn't tell if Waylon's back had been to me or not. Just needed to hope it had been, that he would keep going and ignore me like he had.

"… Mark says the footage shows them having to inject him with something." Penny explained "A large dose of something they'd gotten from the med bay. It tranquilized him enough for the guards to restrain him. But it wasn't enough, it took ten guards over an hour to finally restrain him afterward."

A part of me had wanted to swear. Loudly. They hadn't been able to physically force him into compliance, they had to resort to trying to drug him. That was a dodgy method on its own, and I had to assume they were overshooting their mark too. Despite that, it still took ten guards an hour to completely wear him down.

I didn't know how long they been trying to contain him, or how long he'd been using his semblance. But if he got worse the longer he used it, then the longer this dragged on, the worse my chances looked. I'd have just accepted being able to escape him. Save restraining him for more people who were better equipped to contain him. But escape was seeming a less likely option with each second, and winning was a non-option. Not if he could keep fighting like that.

The only silver lining was it gave me an option. A heavily tarnished one.

"Where's the med bay?" I asked "If I can't lose Waylon then I'm going to need to pay the doctors a visit."

"One moment." Penny said "I think I've almost got you on the cameras… Oh wow, is that Waylon-"

The wall to the corridor suddenly erupted inward in a crash of stone and splintered wood from the door. I was violently pushed forward as the debris collided with the desk, shunting it into me. Shifted me awkwardly under its weight.

Waylon stood in the opening he'd just made. I couldn't see him, not completely, the desk was between us. But I could see his shadow casting under the desk from the light in the hall. Could hear his ragged breathing again, as he took in the air of the tight room.

He gave a hiss that sounded almost delighted.

"I smell your fear." He growled.

He began to step through the rubble into the room. The stone work and cement crackling and grinding under his feet as his shadow tapered forward. He didn't move fast, just at a steady, stalking gait.

There weren't many places I could be hiding in such a small space. He had no reason to hurry.

"Six?" Penny asked "… Six, is he in the room-"

I muted Penny again. Waylon knew I was here already, but I needed to concentrate. I had an idea of how to get out of there, but it was going to be close. I needed Waylon to think I was scared shitless, or at least not thinking clear enough to be doing anything of value. For all it mattered, I was. What I was going to try would've been suicide by any other means.

I was a rat in a box. Waiting for the cat to come get his meal.

"Kill you. Rip your heart out" Waylon growled, stepping ever closer "Pain like you've never known."

Waylon's footsteps stumped to a halt in front of the desk, mere inches away from me. I could see his feet through the small opening. Count each of the black claws on his toes. I gripped at my chest as I carefully began to twist around, putting my back to the floor. Pressing my shoulders against the ground as I braced my feet against the desk.

"Kill you." Waylon said, his voice straining "I-"

I aimed Clark's rifle up to the bottom of the desk and began firing. Tried to put them at an angle that would hit Waylon, for all the good it would do me. I didn't have any illusions that, even so close, I was going to hit anything good. I couldn't see my target. Instead the cramped space roared with the close gunfire, ringing my ears, and blinding me with the muzzle flash.

I dumped seven rounds into the desk before pausing. Waiting to hear anything. My gaze passed to the floor. Waylon's feet hadn't moved.

"You miss." Waylon hissed, a sneer in his voice.

That'd been the point.

Pulling on my aura, I explosively pushed outward with my arms and legs. Launching against the desk and floor. The heavy wooden furniture flew upward as my aura strained, flying off my feet like a kicked can. The extra force from my shoulders pushing me off the ground as the desk rocketed upward.

Bullets weren't working. But something heavier might.

The desk slammed into Waylon, its larger mass catching him off guard and pushing him back. He stumbled and tripped backwards like a felled tree. He crashed hard into the debris on the floor, and I took my opening. I launched up from the floor, springing on to the desk as it temporarily weighed down against Waylon. It wouldn't last long, I'd only briefly stunned him. Immediately, I bounded off it and leapt for the opening Waylon had made. Passing through it as I felt something nip at my heel. I caught my balance as I landed in the hall, spun, and pulled one of the frag grenade from my chest. The pin left it in a flash and I gave it a half-hearted toss back into the office. Not wasting a moment for it to detonate, I sprinted forward down the hall, resuming my mad-dash. Waylon roared as he threw the desk off of himself. It crashed out into the corridor behind me as I ran, smashing into the opposite wall. Must've thrown it.

It was followed by a concussive blast of thunder and air bursting from the hole in the wall. My grenade, I guessed. But I didn't wait around to survey my work, no time. I bolted down the corridor, rounding the corner as I unmuted Penny again.

"-tting up!" Penny gasped "That's impressive!"

"Amazement later, help now!" I snapped "I don't know where the med bay is and I don't have time to play cat and mouse. Can you direct me?"

"… I think I can." Penny said, after a moment "I have a rough layout of the prison through the cameras. Why are you going to the med bay?"

"Waylon needs his medicine." I said back "Just point me the right way."

"Ok… turn right down the next corridor!" Penny chimed.

Following her instructions, the next intersection I reached, I hooked a hard right and kept running.

"No not that right, the other right!" Penny corrected.

"You mean left!?" I growled stumbling to a stop.

"My right, not yours, yes!" Penny said.

I growled, spun around and broke into a sprint once more. Waylon hadn't been immediately on my tail, otherwise I'd have been cursing up a storm. That was an incredibly human error on Penny's part, and on the one hand it annoyed the shit out of me. On the other, I knew I was going to laugh about it later, if I lived. As long as it didn't happen twice.

I cleared the corridor in a short clip, and barreled down one that appeared to my right. Penny got it right that time, because turning left would've had me slam into the wall. The corridor led me past a few more offices on the way. I could tell I was moving out of the Administrative wing, or at least nearing its edge. The conditions steadily became less professional the further I went. But I could tell I was at least moving in the right direction when I noticed the signage pointing towards the medical offices. Penny's directions proving more and more accurate.

Distantly, I could still hear Waylon. His voice roaring through the corridors behind me, echoing off the walls and dulled by space between us. Despite that, I could hear the fury and rage in him. Sounding even less coherent and controlled than it had even moments prior.

Calling a condition that slowly erodes your rationality a super power is insane. That didn't change that it was also terrifying for anyone on the receiving end. It's why a lot of Fiends preferred psycho for raiding. Even if it didn't inherently make its user dangerous, the psychological effect on their enemy was notable. Sometimes it's not about how bad it hurts, but how bad they think it'll hurt.

Right then, I was pretty sure that Waylon would make it hurt just as bad as it sounded. That was not a comfort. Especially when I could tell Waylon was trying to very quickly close that gap between us.

As he drew closer, I came upon the Med bay. The room visible to the hallway behind wire-reinforced security glass. Sealed behind a set of, rather inadequate looking, security doors. The kind that had a card reader built into the door over the knob. Likely meant to accept a scroll and check for the required clearance. Something I didn't have.

So, once more, I took Knock-knock and slammed it into the space between the frame and first door.

"Penny, do you or Mark have any idea what they used on Waylon the first time?" I asked, paying very close attention to the way the roaring was steadily growing closer.

"… Mark doesn't know." Penny said after a moment "Give me a moment, let me see if I can't get a better look."

"I don't exactly have time for you to do an archive bin-" I started to say.

I was interrupted as an ear-splitting siren erupted over head. The lock holding the door had just snapped as I was speaking. Should've figured they'd have an alarm attached to the door in case anyone tried to force entry through the doors.

Waylon's roaring faded beneath the wail of the siren. I couldn't tell if he'd stopped on hearing it or not. But I knew there was a good chance it'd just given away where I was and what I was doing. Whether or not Waylon was coherent enough to piece that all together at that point didn't matter. He was running off pure aggression and bloodlust, like an actual rabid animal. All he needed to know was where to take-off running.

"One second." Penny said, nearly inaudible beneath the alarm.

I shook my head and peered through the window in the door. Trying to get an idea of the space before I made any moves.

As I prepared to break into the second door, an idea occurred to me. I looked back at the first door, briefly checking that its handle was intact enough for the idea. I was missing some parts, but if the Med bay was stocked right, then I could improvise something.

The idea formed in my head, I returned my attention to the second door and swung. It busted open with about the same level of resistance as the first, and the way was cleared. The smell of antiseptic hung in the air that rolled out, filtering through my mask. The air was cool and comfortably damp. The room was open, with maybe a dozen and a half beds lining the walls. Collapsible partitions running between each, the beds fitted with the necessary mounts for restraining their prospective patients. Wouldn't want any of the inmates getting ideas while near where the prison kept its medicine.

I wasn't going to have long before Waylon arrived, so I set myself into motion. In the far right corner of the room were cabinets, beside another security door. After bolting across the room, I found that the cabinets themselves weren't locked. Fittingly, they only contained the disposable medical equipment. The gloves, masks, scrubs and the like. The things a good doctor can account for needing to regularly discard or destroy depending on what they encountered. A sanitary practice the Wasteland didn't always have the luxury to accommodate.

Sitting neatly on a stack inside of the cabinets were multiple reels of surgical tubing. Perfectly wrapped and clean, waiting to administer aid.

Wasteful though it was, the aid I needed wouldn't be what it had been made for.

I took a reel of the tubing and quickly ran back to the doors. Grabbing an IV post as I went. I would need something that could act as a fulcrum. Back across the room, I slipped back into the space between the two doors and set to work on quickly barring the first door with the IV post. The latch to shut the door was damaged and I didn't count the post to be strong enough to stop anything. Even feeding it through the door handle wouldn't do anything to stop Waylon. But I fed and looped the line between the two anyway, before affixing the last piece of the plan to the top of the post. The IV tubing looped through it tightly. I had to hope the material was strong enough to do what I wanted.

No sooner had I finished and ducked back into the room than I heard Waylon barrel into the corridor. His yelling almost drowned out by the wailing of the overhead alarms. I cast a glance back at him as I continued moving quickly towards the locked door at the back. Where I had to assume they were keeping the more important supplies.

Waylon eyed me through the window. The look on his face one of fury, but also something more animalistic that tickled my hindbrain. Like he was eyeing me with the hungry resolve of a starving predator. His sharp teeth glistening in the light of the corridor. Jaw hanging loose and ready as he took ragged breaths. His clawed hands pressed against the security windows, palms open. The glass crackling under the weight of him pushing on it. I realized then, that I hadn't entertained the thought that he might try and go through the window instead of the door. After all, he'd have to be out of his mind to be making things harder for himself than he had to be.

But, this was also the guy who'd, not five minutes prior, had blown through the wall rather than open the door. Logic and him weren't on speaking terms at the moment.

I began quickly backing towards the locked door as I watched Waylon. The glass began to crack under the force of his hands. Long and jagged slivers streaking through the material, even as the steel wire held him back. Waylon only began to press harder against it, the material beginning to buckle.

"Kill!" Waylon roared "KILL!"

A corner of the window buckled away from the wall, and I took that as my cue to start running. The window wouldn't hold for long, but it was slowing him down. I turned and bolted towards the locked room.

"Penny, a little guidance here!?" I barked into my scroll as I reached the security door. Once more using door opening technique of knocking, I snapped the bolt open with a jerk of my wrist. The door violently swinging open as glass from the window shattered out of the frame, hitting the floor. Around that point, Waylon began actively beating against it. Each strike shaking the wall and raining large shards of glass. I could hear the wiring strung through it popping strand by stand in a tense staccato. Without wasting a moment I entered the storage room, levering knock-knock over my shoulder. I was greeted with shelves of labeled baskets lining either wall. Supplies, medications, the equipment not so easily replaced.

There was a long moment where Penny didn't answer, and I scanned the shelves. Hoping that something I recognized would jump out at me. Unfortunately, everything was under brand names and pseudonyms that I knew nothing of. Med-X might be a brand name for Morphine, but Rad-away was Rad-away. The only thing I recognized immediately were the hypodermics stored in one of the shelves nearest the door. I grabbed one as I began quickly scanning the shelves, hoping to see something that might work.

As I did, I could hear Waylon's roar echo through the Med bay. The sound of the steel wires ripping loose as something big and angry tore into the room.

"It's… Um-" Penny stuttered. I wasn't even aware she could stutter.

I grabbed one of the hypodermics as I heard the window give way. Waylon came crashing into the room, and I could hear every step like someone was slamming a kick drum.

"Penny!" I pressed.

"-Ketalar!" Penny answered "They used Ketalar at a dosage-"

VATs stuttered open and closed as I began rapidly checking the shelves, trying to figure out how things were organized. Each stutter dragged out the boom of Waylon's footsteps as he raced for the door. The shelving was numbered, items alphabetized. Search for the K- or the equivalent- Then the E-

I found the bin right as Waylon rounded into the door way. His frame looming in from the edge of my vision. His arm lashed towards me as I was forced let VATs end. My hand shot into the bin and grabbed one of the glass ampules, managing to wrap around a one of them.

Right at the point that Waylon's hand got a grip on me.

With a force I could readily compare to being hit by a truck, I flew out of the room by the collar of my coat.

"Six!" Penny chirped. It was the only thing I could hear from her. The rest was lost in the whirl of me being flung back out into the med bay ass-over-end. I sailed the whole way back into the room, and then the rest of the way across the room. The whole way I tried to react, angle myself so when I finally hit the other wall it wouldn't suck as much as it had any other time. I had to fight the effects of stuttering VATs as I did, making my movements stiff and jerky. The end result was I flew across the room, a good twenty to thirty feet, and hit the wall at a strange angle. But with the caveat I was ready to try and catch myself on impact. So instead of cratering into it and then flopping to the floor, I managed to fall to a knee instead. The light of my aura flickered around me, broke. My hands wrapped tightly around the hypo and ampoule. Somehow managing not to crush or drop either in my flight.

Waylon whipped back around towards me as I remained on my knee, fighting off the aftereffects of VATs. With a savage hiss in his breath he raced across the room towards me. Part of me wanted to get out of the way. Part of me knew I should. But the rest of me knew that, no matter how it happened, I had to get close to him. He wasn't about to stick himself with the needle and save me the trouble. So I jammed the tip into the ampoule and pulled the plunger back. Feeling the resistance as I filled the syringe with fluid. At that point I didn't care about medical practice, I wasn't his doctor. If he O.D.'d or got an embolism, it'd save me some trouble.

I brought my arms up into a guard right as Waylon crashed into me, separating the nearly full syringe and ampoule. The force of the impact slammed me back into the wall again, and I felt it buckle behind me. The sheer force behind him reminded me of when Lily lost control. The roar in his voice only driving the resemblance home as he lashed his head towards me, snapping his jaws. Even through my gasmask his breath was horrid. Given the pointed and nasty look to his teeth, I had to imagine dental hygiene wasn't high on his list. Though less important than the fact he was trying to sink them into my throat. Just as I felt his massive arms hammering me into the wall like it was a backboard. Without the protection of my aura, I could feel every hit straight down to my bones. Which would've easily broken if it wasn't for my Adamantium Skeleton. But it did nothing for my soft and squishier innards. The less said about what that felt like, the better. Being that I was backed to the wall, I wasn't going to get away from it either. The only way out was forward.

But Waylon was right where I needed him to be.

With his head jutting forward, I swung the needle up to his neck and stuck him with it. Hoping it hadn't bent on his scales, I sank it as deep as I could and squashed the plunger down.

Waylon hissed angrily as the drug flooded into his neck. Then snapped his head back in surprise when I smashed the ampoule against his head. It ripped the hypodermic out of his neck, the mark it left sealing itself. Instantly, Waylon countered with a wild, clawed haymaker that tore at the sleeve of my coat and skated over my armor.

I dropped the empty needle and tried to guard against the blow with my arm. Knowing the haymaker could turn into a string of them, I retaliated with a scribe counter. My fist crashing into Waylon's face, against the crushed, flattened thing he called a nose. Through the haze of rage and his semblance I doubted it registered as more than a momentary sting. But it was a moment I needed.

Using the wall as I brace, my legs shot off the ground, connecting with Waylon's stomach. With strength enough to lift half a ton, I pushed back against Waylon. He stumbled a step back, then a second and third, before recovering and rearing back towards me. But it bought me the space I needed.

Knock-knock fell into my off-hand, as my right shot forward with an open palm. My Ranger Takedown slipped past his outstretched arms as he ran at me, finding his face again.

This time, he flew back and hit the other side of the room himself. He cratered into the frame of the supply room, collapsing it. But even as he hit the ground, he was already scrambling back to his feet, bringing the shelves of the supply room down as he thrashed for leverage. The smartest thing I could've done right then was get running while I had the opening. Led him on a chase until the chems I'd put in his system took effect and dropped him. Take the chance on fighting him once I knew he was weakening.

But I had no idea how long that would be. The adrenaline and movement would keep his heart pumping fast, but it took an hour the first time it'd been done. I didn't have an hour. But I did know a trick that would make sure the chems were likely to spread faster, take the fight out of him just as fast if it went long enough.

Blood loss.

I gripped my axe and charged at him, Meeting him as he clawed his way back out of the closet. We clashed closer towards his side of the room, his arm swinging out in another bid to grapple me. I slipped underneath it, swinging Knock-knock horizontally and catching him in the ribs. The blade ripping through him as I passed around his side, tearing the wound wider. Even as I felt his body trying to close around it, I could see the blood trailing out of his wound. Like I'd tapped a tree for sap. He roared as I went around his flank, ripping my axe out.

Immediately, he rounded on me, tree trunk of an arm swinging at me in reverse. His back hand met the guard I raised to catch it, and the force sent me sideways. I let it carry me, controlled as I dove over one of the hospital beds, coming to my feet and letting it stay between us. Single-minded as he was acting, he charged at me again and crashed over the bed horizontally. I sidestepped him, swinging my axe down and catching him in the right shoulder, biting down into the bones of his arm. The roar of pain he'd given before howled out again as he rolled towards me, the motion trying to rip my axe from my hands. But I pulled back with it, drawing more blood as I sidestepped Waylon again. He rolled onto the floor, and I swung a leg up as he fell, catching him in the face. His head snapped back and he hit the floor as I brought knock-knock back around in a mauling downward chop.

Before the blow could connect, Waylon launched himself off the ground, lunging at me. He tackled me backwards, throwing my swing off. Knock-knock slipped out of my hand, sailing backwards as Waylon connected with me. His weight crashed down on me and we both hit the floor again. Immediately, I tried to counter the momentum shift. My off-hand bracing his head back as we hit the floor, My right cracking him across the jaw. As it did, I tried to wedge my legs between us, work to push him off me again.

Then Waylon's fist came crashing against my head like a sledgehammer. I felt the world go black for a moment with the impact, reminding me of how hard he'd hit me the first time we fought. The difference was night and day. But that he hadn't popped my head open meant whatever I did must have been working.

Without missing a beat, Waylon blew past the hand holding his head back and slammed down into my shoulder. His jaws sank into the soft meat between it and my neck. Stopped only by the layers of cloth and soft armor covering it. Even with them I could feel his teeth pricking against my skin. Just as quick, Waylon reeled back, tearing the material away, teeth dragging against my skin. He spat, and a chunk of my collar landed on the floor next to us.

"You fucker!" I spat blearily. My coat was already in need of a replacement, now I had to pay Byz a visit.

My legs reversed course, instead of trying to push him off me, I wedged them between the floor and him. With a jerk, I pushed off the ground, flipping us both. Waylon tried to stop me, but my fist snapped forward and caught his throat. Putting all the strength I could muster into my legs, I flipped us to the left. Waylon hit the ground and rolled to his back, and I braced myself on top of him. My aura fled from my legs and into my arms and shoulders as I caught my balance. The last of the momentum had my off-hand crashing downward into his face as my right pulled back. He swung his arm up at me as I did, and I dipped to the side of it, only narrowly keeping my balance. Then I sent my right arm crashing back against his face, cutting low with an elbow strike. It caught him in the corner of his eye, and I felt the bones shift under his skin and he hissed in pain.

Waylon bucked upward and I toppled forward over him. I let my balance shift that way and rolled with it, hitting the ground just ahead of him, closer to the door. My hand shot forward, reaching for Knock-knock. Only for it to slide back from my grasp as I was dragged along the floor away from it. A quick look over my shoulder, and a clamp around my leg, showed Waylon trying to pull me back towards him.

My hand fell to the lever action shotgun at my hip. Its length and bulk kept me from drawing it. One of the big things that kept me from doing it normally. But in that case, I didn't need to.

I angled the muzzle away from my leg and squeezed the trigger. Fire leapt from the barrel and collided with Waylon's face, as the fire-slug burst against his face. He roared as loud as the gunfire as his hands shot back to his face, howling in fury and pain. I worked the lever on my shotgun as I scrambled back to my feet, away from the blazing lizard-man. My hand ghosted over Knock-Knock as I rose, grabbing it and slinging it over my shoulder. My boots skidded on the rubble-coated floor as I wheeled back towards Waylon. He swatted furiously at the fire that engulfed his head, at the same time forcing himself to get up, putting the weight on his braced leg.

With a long stride towards him, my axe arced downward. The bit cleaving into the side of his kneecap. I ripped it forward as Waylon scrambled to decide between which wound he should focus more on. As he howled in pain, scrabbling at the fire on his head and gash in his leg, I slowly began backing away. Towards the front of the room, angling for the barely closed checkpoint, besides the gaping hole in the wall. I let myself draw closer to it, slowly. Waiting for Waylon to either collapse and let this end, or keep fighting so we could move this along.

With his scalp and uniform still wreathed in fire, gash knitting itself together, his gaze tracked to me in wild fury.

"That all you got?" I asked, trying to even out my breathing.

He only let out a snarl in response, pushing off his wounded leg and lunging for me.

I turned and bolted. Waylon's footsteps landed heavy behind me as I threw myself through the doors of the checkpoint. I crashed through the inner door and promptly slammed it shut behind. Followed by my slamming through the outer door. It'd been a necessary motion. Needed to keep the tension right.

Otherwise I wouldn't have been able to release the grenade bouquet I'd planted for Waylon in the first place.

They all clattered to the ground behind me as I threw the outer door open. Lighting the fuses in them that ran anywhere for three to five seconds. Almost as soon as they did, I could hear Waylon slamming into the door behind me.

I leapt out into the Hallway pushing my enhanced strength into my feet and began to rac-

"You're ok." Cass said, dragging me forward, my feet scraping the cave floor "You're going to be ok."

The world spun and my ears rang. Pain wracked and throbbed through my body. My breath came back to me with a start that only made it worse. It'd been blown out of me. I was lucky it hadn't popped my lungs on the way out. There was something solid against my chest. The spinning in my head made it hard to tell whether I was leaning on something at first. As the spins slowed, I realized it was the ground. Began trying to pick myself up as my ears continued ringing. My balance was evading me though. There was something itching in my leg.

I should've been keeping count.

The fucking bouquet had gone off before I'd been more than a few feet away. The walls and door of the checkpoint had eaten the bulk of the explosion, but not all of it.

I flopped over, forcing my vision to straighten out. The blast had thrown me back a few yards, and otherwise obliterated the checkpoint. A grenade could hardly take down a building, but three of them in a tightly confined space? Yeah, that'd do. It'd left the air filled with smoke and masonry dust. Hard to see through, harder to breathe in. Once more my mask was proving some small benefit.

My leg itched again, and I forced myself to sit up and look down at it. There was a chunk of masonry speared into my calf. Even if that hadn't been there, the overall way I felt told me a stimpack was in order. Didn't need to check my pip-boy for that. My fingers numbly fumbled around inside my coat, and grabbed one. I pulled out the bits of masonry from my leg and stuck myself with the needle. The sensation of the stim-fluid healing me flooded my body, feeling all the worse with how I already felt.

Then Waylon reappeared.

He came listing out of the wrecked checkpoint, churning the clouds of smoke and dust. Fire still flickered and danced on his shoulders and scalp. His body had been shredded by the explosion. Scales and skin ripped free from his chest and arms. The brace that'd been on his leg was hanging limply around it, providing no support and clattering as he moved. His breaths were heavy and labored, sucking in the plumes of dust and puffing them back out. He'd been ripped raw by the blast, leaving blood with every step.

And he was still healing. It wasn't fast, or clean. But I could see the scar tissue forming in place of his scales. Watch it grow ridged and stiff, then flake off and grow shiny as something new moved to replace it. Lines and cracks forming as it took on a mossy green hue. The blood that he shed didn't dry, not any faster than before. But his body shed the ruined skin and tissue that had been damaged, regenerated something new and stronger.

His head swiveled towards me as I felt the stimpack ebbing away. Patched enough I could at least stand.

Waylon's eyes locked on me from beneath a brow that had grown thicker and harder with scales. Looked so stiff I doubted he could even move it. When he proved me wrong, it was sluggish and heavy motions. The energy that'd been feeding him was finally tapped out. Or close enough to it that he was back to being normal Waylon. Not much better, but better than the one I'd just met.

His breath came out in a ravenous hiss as cold hatred burned in his gaze.

"Lived through worse." Waylon hissed "You won't."

I scowled and forced myself up, bracing myself on knock-knock. "Keep telling yourself that."

Didn't matter it was going to take, or that I felt like death warmed over, I wasn't stopping. Not until Waylon was down. The Blast had taken a lot out of him. Just not enough. If I'd kept all four grenades, maybe that would've made the difference. No sense in crying over spilled whiskey though.

Knock-knock shifted upward into my hands, haft in front of me. Waylon trudged towards me, steps heavy. There was a whining in my ears that wouldn't go away. It started getting louder, and I had to resist the urge to smack my ears to try and clear it.

Then Waylon looked up, confused.

I realized then, that the whining wasn't in my ears.

From behind me, Penny flew down the hall like a rocket and crashed into Waylon with a flying kick. Her swords were arrayed out her back, blasting green light and crackling with energy. She hit Waylon like a truck, knocking him off balance and staggering back. Even as he ate all of the momentum she fed him, Penny didn't let up. Before gravity took her, the swords arrayed at her back flipped around front of her, still locked in their clusters and glowing. With a whine and crackle, two bursts of vibrant green light shot forth and slammed into Waylon. Immediately hitting him even harder than Penny had and sending him sprawling back through the smoke. The shockwave from Penny's attack helping to blow and clear it from the corridor.

She landed on the ground with a bounce and turned back face me, giving me a resolute look.

"I'm here to help!" She declared.

"…" I looked at her a moment, then at Waylon now several dozen yards away from Penny's attack "… So kind of you to show up." I said dryly "You have trouble finding me?"

"No, I knew where you were from the cameras." Penny explained.

"… Then what took so long?" I asked.

"…" Penny flushed slightly and looked at the floor "I panicked."

"…"

I wanted to laugh, but it probably would've hurt me as much as it would her.

Frankly, I should've been surprised she could even panic in the first place. Wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. But in either case I would take her helping me over having to try and deal with Waylon all on my own.

Knock-knock lowered in my grasp and I looked down the cleared Corridor towards Waylon. Slowly, he picked himself up off the floor. His breathing heavy and labored as he pushed himself to a knee. As he did, I let knock-knock settle onto the floor as I levered Clark's rifle back around front of me. I changed magazines and started to take aim.

Only for Penny to take aim with her swords again and fire another shot of green energy at him.

The blast hit and slammed Waylon into the ground. He made no moves to get back up.

"… Maybe you can help next time." I said.

"That explosion you caused must've caused a lot of damage." Penny said "It's impressive you did in fifteen minutes what it took a group of men an hour to do."

"… It's been fifteen minutes?" I asked.

Penny went to answer me, but whatever she was about to say, she didn't finish. Her pupils dilated and flashed strangely as her expression went blank. She then looked down the hall towards Waylon. When he eyes stopped flashing, the semblance of life returned to her face and she gasped.

"They're reopening Oakholme!" She spoke.

"They're what?" I asked "How…" I shook my head "You're linked into the surveillance system now, aren't you?"

"Come on!" Penny exclaimed, taking off down the hallway.

"…" I shook my head and took off after her "Should've just brought you with me."

Retracing my steps back down the corridors I'd come from, Penny and me found our way back to the crossroad. Sure enough, Penny had been right. The inmates had managed to reopen the doors to Oakholme. Part of me wasn't surprised. I wasn't fully sure how the system actually operated, nor did I know how they unlocked the doors in the first place. Given what I'd seen inside, there was a good chance they'd figured out how to override the doors from the panopticon. What I'd done was only meant to be a stop-gap until actual help could handle the issue.

Unfortunately, as Penny and I arrived, I could see there was some grain of truth to that idea.

We arrived as groups of inmates were streaming out from the corridor, turning sharp down the way opposite of us. From what I'd overheard, they'd had a plan in place, and probably figured out what the fastest route out was. That way they could actually keep themselves on schedule. The only silver lining was that they hadn't moved en masse. These people didn't like working with each other to start with, so coordinating something on that scale would've been impossible without infighting. Having everyone move in smaller groups at least kept that to a minimum.

As it was, a group of maybe twenty people was already making a break for it when we rounded the corner. We had a choice of either stopping them, or doing something about whoever was still there.

We both knew what the answer to that quandary was. Penny probably knew it better than I did. Estimates, odds, and that general field of math was something a computer could map out faster. More accurately as well, if their model was right. Fighting a group that was constantly replenishing was a losing proposition.

So we dealt with the crowd of them first.

Which was a lot easier when one of us was practically a walking siege weapon.

We'd gone halfway back down the corridor before Penny did her part. Using her sword array, She unleashed a single, massive green beam of energy. By that point, I'd seen her unleash the smaller ones, and wasn't surprised she could do it bigger either. Though that we had to get closer for it to work showed it had some drawbacks. Considering it swept the hallway of inmates in a matter of seconds, however, they were manageable ones. Whatever other downsides using such a weapon had, I wasn't privy to. There undoubtedly were other ones as well.

But for our purposes, it served well enough.

Penny drove the inmates back to the vault doors and we pushed them in. Anyone who tried to kite around her, I dealt with using Clark's rifle. Which I found far more effective against people who weren't high off bloodlust and rage.

So we kept pushing until we were back to the thresh hold of the wing. Only then did Penny let off the power.

"BEHAVE!" I bellowed through the door "Next time I COME BACK HERE, I'm TORCHING all of YOU!"

I hit the button and the doors began closing themselves again. Nobody tried to make a run for it this time, and they shut without issue. Once they did, I motioned for Penny to weld the mechanisms in place to make sure nobody got any funny ideas this time.

A few moments and a few sparks later, Penny leaned forward wearily. The glowed in the places she had cleaved together, and was rapidly cooling, surrounded by a rainbow of thermal oxidation colors.

"Will it hold?" I asked.

"It should." Penny said, sounding strained "The welds are minor, but they should be enough to hold everything until the guards have regained control."

I nodded, looking at her "You alright?'

"I'm combat ready." Penny said "Although doing things like this wasn't part of my pre-programmed training."

"Funny thing about live combat." I said "You learn that there are a lot of other important things than just breaking stuff."

Penny looked back at me and gave a childish smile. "It's fun!"

I nodded. In a way, when all the madness wasn't happening, it was.

But we weren't done yet. Not while there were still inmates making a break for it.

I pulled out my scroll and slipped into the main group call. "CFVY, heads up, we managed to get Maximum Security closed off but a bunch of the inmates made a run for it. They'll be heading your way if they're not already there."

There was a pause in the air, before Coco responded.

"I wouldn't worry about that, kid." She spoke "Back-up from Beacon is already on the way. They'll be here in five minutes. Less."

"Good." I said, breathing a sigh of relief "At least someone has their head on straight."

"Keep that energy when trying to explain to Ozpin and Goodwitch why we're here." Yatsu grunted over the line "They're gonna be the first ones here."

"… Less good, but still better." I said, shaking my head. I'd figured there was a chance we'd have to deal with them after this mess, but had hoped to be gone before it happened. "… JNPR, how you guys holding up?"

"We've secured the cafeteria and are moving for the front gate." Jaune said "We'll see about intercepting those inmates."

Penny smiled at that. Things were going smoother than we could have hoped.

It put a sinking feeling in my gut. Because the prisoners weren't the White Fang's objective.

"Right… Ruby, how are you and the girls making out?" I asked, then waited for an answer

A moment passed.

It turned to several. Each passing one widened the pit in my gut.

"… Girls, are you there?" I asked "…Sun?"

Silence. Seconds feeling as though they turned to tens with each one that ticked by.

Then, all at once, a noise broke through. A sharp and grainy sound. The result of the microphone only barely able to pick up the tones being produced. Crushing them as they tried to pass through the speaker. The sound of rent and twisting metal, crashing hard against the ground. Gunfire briefly carried alongside it.

Then it was gone. Silence once more.

Penny looked at me, concern in her eyes.

My gut was right. Things had gone too smooth.

I looked at Penny. "We need to go. NOW."