The Grimm.
The great enemy, an unending horde of monsters that require no food, yet hunt both humans and Faunus with a ravenous intensity. Cade knew of them in the way all denizens of Remnant do, as the beasts that stop their meagre civilisations from ever expanding, every inch of the planet not behind walls and guns were owned by the Grimm, who tolerated no intrusion of man.
He'd seen very few Grimm in his short life, to be expected for an orphan who'd never before left the shelter of his birth city. What little experience he had, were from the occasional mass assaults conducted against Vacuo by the monsters, all of these assaults had been effectively repelled by the standing garrison and hired huntsmen, with only a few Grimm penetrating the outskirts of the city, namely the slums.
Cade remembered watching from a rooftop as a homeless man was devoured by Beowolves, large black wolfen creatures. The man barely had time to scream before they were upon him, it seemed like a quick way to go. Huntsmen had quickly purged the remaining Grimm before Cade had a chance to see any more, their movements a blur to the awed orphan.
Huntsmen, the contracted superhumans charged with safeguarding humanity from the wrath of the Grimm. Paragons, or so the propaganda said.
Cade had seen what huntsmen were capable of, in Vacuo they behaved like any other person granted power over their fellow man, like tyrants. Near unstoppable bullies that gazed upon the helpless masses with nothing but scorn and pity, their strength far above the peons that hid behind walls.
Gods how Cade envied them.
"We've got a Gryphon sighted at bearing-275 Captain, looks like a big'un." One of the sailors reported, observing the Grimm through his binoculars as he reported to the Captain beside him.
"Hmph, any others?" The Captain asked, grabbing his own binoculars to see the monster.
"No sir."
"Right, looks like an older one, but not an elder, thank gods. Get Hitchins and Dewey on the flak guns harassing it. Runt, go get the hunters, I'm not taking any chances if that thing gets within range."
Cade nodded, running below deck to kick the door to Grass Ass's room until he got up, precisely three kicks, he must've already been awake.
The captain gave a lot of leeway to the hunters, allowing them to spend the entire day resting, training or whatever they felt like doing, usually annoying Cade. He said it was up to the crew to report the Grimm, and the Hunters to kill them. Cade thought it was a fair deal, they laze around all day and in exchange they stand between Cade and a rampaging nightmare monster that feeds on your fear.
The door swung open, revealing two disgruntled huntsmen, Grass Ass and the other one, Nick or whatever, Cade didn't bother remembering his name, he was as unremarkable as his clothing, to his credit.
"Griffon sighted, Captain wants you two on deck." Cade grunted, the two men didn't ask any questions, instead grabbing their weapons and running toward the stairs. Cade followed at a more sedate pace, his duty done.
When Cade reached the deck again, the Griffon was close enough to see with the naked eye, It was undoubtedly the largest Grimm Cade had had ever seen. Though his focus was quickly ruined by the booming staccato of the flak cannons, Cade quickly searched his pockets for the earplugs issued to every crewman. With his hearing protected, he examined the Grimm once more.
It somewhat resembled a black lion, twice and a half as tall at the shoulder as a man, with two massive black feathered wings and a tail tipped with white bone-like protrusions. As it got closer, dodging or otherwise weathering the flak cannons, Cade could make out a its head, like most Grimm it lacked skin over it's skull, in this case a beaked bird's skull.
Flak shells exploded against the Griffon's furred and feathered body, shredding pieces of dark flesh from it with every blow, but it wasn't enough. The solitary Grimm kept coming, the shell fragments unable to penetrate the monster's bulk enough to blow it from the sky, Cade started to feel hopeful he might finally see the huntsmen at work, every Grimm attack thus far not getting past the guns.
He had hoped to see the autocannons getting fired too, but apparently those were only for 'Class 5 aquatic Grimm', whatever that meant.
"Those Flak cannons aren't cutting it, you're just pissing it off. Get everyone below deck and we'll handle it." Grass Ass told the Captain, yielding to the man's greater experience with the Grimm, ushering the men who'd been watching the spectacle under the deck, including the gunners and Cade.
Fuck, it would be difficult for Cade to see anything under half a foot of reinforced steel, did he say difficult? He meant impossible.
Now how would be watch Grass Ass finally get devoured?
Oh well, he would have to make do with listening to him get pulled apart.
"Don't die too quickly." Cade told the amused huntsman, leaving to join the rest of the men in the small mess room under the deck, sitting on the far left of the table in a chair that had quickly become 'Cade's throne' to the other men, as he defended it quite fiercely. For good reason too, it allowed him to keep the rest of the room in his vision, was closest to the kitchen utensil cabinet and therefor all the knives and was the only chair with four legs of equal length.
Sitting in his throne, Cade tuned out the nervous conversations of the others and tried to listen to the fight above them. So far, it was silent.
Then, the bark of a firearm, probably Grass Ass's shotgun, which fired several more times.
Hushed conversation around the mess was sharply cut off when there was a loud thud above them, the entire ship suddenly tilting to its side, as if a large weight had hit it with a decent bit of momentum behind it. Numerous bangs, thuds and the occasional ear-splitting roar followed, the men around Cade anxiously wringing their hands and speaking in low tones, Cade knew if the hunters failed they wouldn't stand a fucking chance. He tapped the wooden table with a restless finger, fucking Grass Ass better hurry up and kill that Griffon, and die shortly after of course.
The Captain just leaned back in his chair, blowing some smoke at the ceiling as he waited, no expression on his wrinkled face.
Finally, the sound of battle above them ceased, the greener sailors among them assuming the worst. Cade sighed at the lack of screaming or begging, looks like Grass Ass lives another day. To the detriment of the rest of them.
This was quickly proven when said hunter poked his head through the door and gave the all clear, Cade quickly scanned the mans form for any injuries, his frown vanishing when he confirmed Grass Ass was okay.
Since Cade wanted the glory of killing the green stain himself, of course.
Cade was greeted by a massive black corpse when he followed the men above deck, dark whisps of smoke trailing into the air as the Grimm slowly disintegrated, it's nightmarish form no longer held together by whatever analogue the Grimm had for life. Grass Ass stood next to him, leaning on his mecha-shift great axe, the handle lightly smoking where Cade guessed the barrel for its shotgun form was hidden.
"He wasn't so tough." The man bragged, Cade supposed he was right, seeing how he and his partner seemed unscathed, the other huntsman cleaning black soot off a longsword. Cade eyed the deep gashes across the Grimm's body.
"How did you hurt it? The fucking flak cannons could barely scratch it." Cade asked, loathe to speak to and/or encourage the huntsman, but overcome by his curiosity, he doubted the huntsmen could hit harder than a localised fucking explosion.
"Aura kid, it does more than protect and empower, by channelling it into our weapons we can easily pierce their hides. Its why we huntsmen have been using the same axes, swords and other weapons for centuries. Guns have their place, but you can't beat soul-powered melee." Ass Grass responded, giving his weapon an appreciative pat as he did. Cade frowned, it always came back to Aura.
"And… How does one get Aura? Hypothetically?" Cade carefully questioned, staring at the enormous, curved talons on a severed black furred leg a few feet away. The huntsman watched Cade with measured glance, likely having been asked that question by every kid on Remnant.
"Your Aura can only be unlocked by another person with Aura, apparently, we used to be able to do it independently but we've since lost that knowledge. Probably for the best, it's highly, let me say that again kid, HIGHLY illegal to have an unauthorised unlocked Aura." The man told Cade, a rare serious tone in his annoying voice.
"Why? Seems like we could all fucking use it." Cade asked in frustration, gesturing to the smoking corpse.
"I forget sometimes that you're a feral street child, but it's for several very important reasons kid."
Cade groaned, he knew that fucking tone. Grass Ass was about to launch into a history lesson like the nerd he was, and he'd follow Cade around, chewing his ear off until he got it out of his neurodivergent system, fuck.
"You aren't the first to ask that, and it's been done before. Mass aura unlocking, I mean. And it taught us a lesson in blood, kid. You want to know why we don't unlock everyone's Aura, it's because Aura attracts Grimm." Grass lectured, prompting Cade to sit with him on a crate, Cade remained standing.
"Grimm are drawn to negative emotions, and when you unlock your Aura those emotions are quite literally shined out into the world as a barrier, essentially telling every Grimm around you there's a delicious soul waiting for them. This effect isn't so bad when it's just a few people in a town or city, or boat. But, if you were to, say, create an entire city of super-powered people with ignited souls, it stands out. You tell every Grimm on the continent there's an all you can eat Buffet, and much, much worse, you wake up the real monsters."
Despite his efforts, Cade found himself leaning in, the hunters rare dark tone catching him off-guard. The sailors bustling around them entirely forgotten.
"What we call Elder Grimm are infants compared to what lies dormant out in the far reaches, on the continent's humanity hasn't laid eyes on in millennia. Where Grimm have been allowed to age and grow unchecked, unbound for gods know how long. And when the population with Aura expands past a certain threshold, those Titans come knocking, finally having a reason to cross the sea, flattening everything in their path and hitting a hard reset on civilisation. There's a reason so many kingdoms aren't around anymore kid, and there's a reason the oldest building in Vale is centuries younger than the street it sits on. Hell, we didn't even invent mecha-shift weaponry and dust batteries, we rediscovered it." The hunter said, staring out across the ocean with a hard expression, Cade wondered what he was looking at, if anything.
"For all our bluster and development, we're just hiding here. Allowed to exist according to their…indifferent mercy."
Cade… didn't know how to respond to that. The huntsman shook his head, probably realising he was getting the mood pretty morose.
"Haha, sorry kid, it's hard to remember you're so young when you try act so mature. All that to say, don't try to get your aura illegally kid, once unlocked, having Aura is permanent. You won't go to prison, you'll get a bomb implanted in your spine and sent to die off in a penal squad."
Cade nodded, pretending to agree with the man to shut him up, instead looking at the dead Grimm, a monster that would've ripped him in half like wet tissue paper. Something he could only survive by relying on the fucking pity of strangers like Grass Ass and his unremarkable partner.
He was getting aura, one way or another, some overgrown fucking chicken three continents away wasn't going to stop him, and the law hadn't given him pause before.
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Vale, one of the largest cities on Remnant, confusingly named after the kingdom that owned it. Even miles offshore, Cade could see the gargantuan walls that stretched around the entire city, even across the bay. Countless artillery pieces adorning it like an iron crown.
Cade wondered how they handled overpopulation, it wasn't like the city could expand.
He stood beside the Captain as the old man slowly steered the ship toward the docks, a huge sea gate opening to allow them and a few other vessels passage into the city boundary, the sun just beginning to crest the horizon.
Three months, three goddamn months aboard this steel fucking coffin. Cade couldn't wait to get off, though he would miss the steady meals, which had done wonders for his previously emaciated frame, he would not miss the cramped confines that forced him so close to the other sailors though. As Cade internally celebrated their arrival, the Captain awkwardly cleared his throat, pointedly not looking at Cade.
"Finally here, huh runt. You still got that note?"
"… Yeah." Cade confirmed, feeling for the scrap of paper in his pocket, the contact info of the Captains old friend scrawled across it.
"Good… good. I think his gym was somewhat near the docks, so you shouldn't have trouble finding it."
"I've got some experience navigating a fuckin' city, old man."
The two stood in silence for a few minutes, only broken by the swearing of nearby sailors and the waves breaking across the bow.
"You were somewhat competent, runt. Lasted longer than I thought you would." The captain suddenly said, staring ahead. Cade grunted, but otherwise remained silent.
"You know, if you want, I could take you on as a permanent crewmate. Wages and all." He continued in the silence, Cade turned to the old man, genuinely caught off-guard.
"Wouldn't that be… illegal?" Cade questioned, wondering if the old man had finally gone senile.
"So now the law means something to you? Whatever, the offers on the table… if you want it."
Cade stood there awkwardly for a bit, sending the captain darting glances to see if this was all some elaborate fucking joke, when he saw no sign of the old fart rescinding his words, Cade felt even more lost, instead choosing to rely on something that never let him down, something familiar, aggression.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
"Don't be fucking dumb you old bastard. Last thing you need is some criminal child bringing the law down on your decrepit spine. How the fuck did you get this old making shitty decisions like that? Keep your fucking pity, I'm fine." Cade snarled, refusing to look at the aged sailor, steadfastly ignoring the warm feeling in his chest, must be fucking heartburn or something, they did have a lot of bacon every morning.
"I don't need some wet-behind-the-ears runt telling me how to run my business, the offer stands and will continue standing in the future, when you're inevitably run out of Vale." The captain growled, attempting to cuff Cade over the head with a hand. Cade dodged the blow and considered kicking the bastard in the back of the knee when a voice called out.
"You two are adorable!" Ass Grass shouted from across the deck, accompanied by the chuckling of the other sailors.
"Shut the fuck up!"
"Watch it, huntsman."
The rest of the journey through the port had Cade running around deck, getting the ship ready for berthing, until before he knew it, he was standing on the dock with Grass Ass and the Captain.
"Good luck kid. Try not to stab too many people and give me a yell if you see us around the city." The disgustingly green huntsman said, giving Cade a parting, friendly wave before walking off with his partner.
The Captain watched him go, before pulling a bulging envelope from his coat pocket, holding it out for Cade.
"The fuck is that?" Cade said, eyeing the overstuffed envelope with suspicion and mounting anger, as he could guess what the old idiot was trying to do.
"It's your payment runt, three months wages." The captain said, tossing the envelope toward Cade, who let it bounce off his chest and onto the wooden planks of the dock.
"That wasn't the deal." Cade growled, glaring up into the Captains one eye.
"I may be old, runt. But I don't practice slavery. You will take your money, and it is YOUR money, and you'll rent a damn apartment or something." The Captain growled back, glaring with a matching intensity. Bullshit, Cade had seen the other sailors take their wages, and none of theirs was anywhere near as full as this one looked.
"So, it's fucking pity then? I'm your little charity case? Fuck off."
"It's yours now runt, leave it on the dock for all I care."
The two continued glaring at each other, neither backing down an inch. The sailors still hanging around the ship shaking their heads at the two. After a short while, the captain sighed, making no move to pick up the envelope.
"Begone runt, I'll drop by the gym whenever I'm in port. If only to check if Carter has killed you yet. And remember, my offer will always be there." The Captain grunted, hands in his coat pockets.
"Don't drown or whatever out there, old man." Cade said as he stormed off toward the city, both of them leaving the envelope on the dock. As he walked, he turned the scrap of paper over in his hand, determined not to look back at the ship, at the first place he'd ever had consistent meals, a place to sleep, people who wouldn't stab him over a rotting apple core.
Where he'd learned to swim, learned to fish…
No, he was making the right decision. The street was what he knew, where he excelled.
Comfort was the enemy of strength.
However, he might as well check out this gym. If only because he didn't have anything else to do.
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Cade was beginning to doubt if the Captains friend was alive, or real, as he looked at the decrepit building.
A faded sign hung over the wooden door, 'Carters Close-quarters Combat'. There were no windows, only cracked brick covered in layers of graffiti, Cade guessed this was at the border between two gangs, guessing by the successive layers of 'City Boyz' and 'Downtown Thugz' covering each other, reaching inches thick in places.
He looked around, the neighbourhood looked abandoned, each building hosting boarded up windows and smashed doors, the street covered in trash and grime. 'Mt. Glenn graveyard' had been spray painted in huge blocky letters over one apartment building. There was no doubt, Cade was in a slum, or at least a ghetto.
He felt right at home.
Walking over to the thick wooden door of the 'gym', Cade pounded his fist on in three times, then three more times when nothing happened. He was about to go three for three, when it was abruptly swung open by an annoyed older man, Cade guessed he was around the Captains age, maybe a little younger.
But that was where the similarities ended, he stood well over Cade's height, at least 6'4, with a powerful musculature visible through the stained wife-beater he wore, despite the prominent beer gut. His arms were dotted with scars, dominantly cuts and bullet wounds Cade saw, his crooked fingers equally scarred, fingers that had seen their share of breaks.
Cade noted his close-cropped grey hair, a style he associated primarily with the garrison soldiers he saw around Vacuo, and the intensity of the man's hazel gaze, now centred on Cade.
This man was dangerous, every fibre of Cade's being, every instinct he'd cultivated over the years scrounging a living on the street told him this.
"What, in the gods name do you want?" The man rumbled, the familiar stench of alcohol washing over Cade, who'd become accustomed to the smell after so long on a ship with over-indulgent sailors.
Cade tossed the man his note, who caught it with ease despite the suddenness of the movement.
"Cap-… Crozier sent me, said you had a fuckin' job or something." Cade said, glaring into the man's dubious eyes. The man grunted, pulling out his scroll, a dated model even by Cade's standards. He paused and looked at Cade.
"He docked at Port right now?" He questioned, Cade nodded in affirmation and the man wandered back into the gym with the ringing scroll by his ear.
Cade ignored the muttered conversation as he took in the gym interior, now revealed without the large man standing in the doorway. It was a mess, broken lights hung from fixtures by only their fraying cords, rusty weights were scattered across the floor in haphazard piles, tattered rope surrounded a large square mat covered in dirt, filth and blood. Even Cade kept his rooftop garden shed in better condition than this, how did the man live like this?
"Crozier confirmed your story brat, not sure how you impressed the old sailor, but he vouched for you." Cades rubber-necking was interrupted by the man's gravely tone, Carter if Cade had to guess.
"Names Carter." Nailed it. "Well, come in. I guess you can get started now, I'll pay you damn near nothing so if that's a problem, doors right there."
Cade grunted acknowledgement, somehow the gym was even more dilapidated when he was inside it. He felt the need to vocalise this.
"This place is a fuckin shithole, and I've been sleeping in gutters for my entire life. You live like this?" Cade said, looking at the filth surrounding him. Carter raised a brow at his attitude, but seemed not to take offence.
"I live upstairs, in an apartment if you know what those are." Carter replied, tossing Cade a grimy rag and a bar of soap. With that, he walked off, disappearing up some stairs with a parting 'good luck.'
Cade watched him go with puzzlement, he just left some random child who admitted to being a street rat alone with all his stuff? Cade was tempted to steal all the equipment and sell it to a fence just to make a point. Unfortunately, he didn't know where a fence was here, so instead he sighed and approached the weights, might as well get started.
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It was a gruelling, twelve hours later when Carter returned, Cade having just finished cleaning a barbell and using a steel wool to scrub off the worst of the rust. The man had stopped and gazed around at the noticeably cleaner gym with a raised brow, taking note of Cades red raw hands, but otherwise said nothing regarding it.
"Here's your pay brat, you can stay the night if you want, but that's a temporary offer."
Cade swiped the money from his outstretched hand, counting it quickly, fifty bucks for almost thirteen hours of work, it was similar to what Cade would make in Vacuo, stealing from tourists, but considerably less risky.
"I ain't sleeping near you, you creepy old fuck." Cade snarled, stomping out the door and making sure to slam it behind him. What, did he think Cade was born yesterday? Just because the Captain vouched for him doesn't mean Cade would be serving his organs up on a silver platter, dumbass.
Instead, Cade wandered the streets, casing out empty apartment blocks and rooftops for a suitable shelter while keeping a wary eye on the other denizens of the area, who all looked as shifty as Cade felt.
He had a new city to familiarise himself with, it was going to be a long night. Might as well tick off the most vital box, finding the cheapest slum clinic that wont sell him or his organs. Or both.
He was considering how to go about this when he heard the familiar thud of fist meeting flesh, oh yeah, He was home.
But he heard no answering thud, no grunt of pain, just the nasally high-pitch voice of a teenager in the throes of puberty.
"I know you took it, you little bitch! Where is it?"
The voice sounded a little to his right, behind a dumpster in a dark alley, the traditional place for a slum shakedown. Cade considered ignoring it, but this could be a good chance to start cultivating his violent reputation and maybe make some cash while he was at it. He was well known in Vacuo for interrupting the occasional mugging to rob both victim and aggressor, that was where the real money was.
So, he strolled into the alleyway, the familiar itch of adrenaline coursing through his body as he clenched his irritated fists with a bloodthirsty grin, he had missed this. The danger, the anticipation of a fight. He hoped it would be a two on one, it was always funny in an ironic way when the previous mugger and target teamed up.
He was disappointed however, when he rounded the dumpster to be greeted with a masked teenager repeatedly kicking the prone, curled up form of a little girl. She was a tiny thing, and wouldn't be much sport for Cade, damn.
The beating paused as the teenager noticed Cade, whipping his oily hair back as he whirled on him, hands held threateningly up as he took in Cades equal stature.
"Who the fuck are you? You with this thief?" He snarled, feeling confident when he saw the adolescence in Cades face. Cade saw the girl clutching her stomach, not bothering to look at his arrival.
"I'm Cade, everything you own now belongs to me." Including his bandanna, which featured a cool skull crossed with mecha-shift weaponry. Sue him, he was 8… or 9.
With customary introductions out of the way, Cade raised his fists and darted toward the teen, who had clearly been expected more posturing as he scrambled backward, throwing a hasty overhand punch which Cade took on his arm with a slight grunt, returning the blow with a messy right hook to the oily teens jaw.
The fuckers head jerked to the side with a click, Cade attempted to follow the hook with another blow from the left, but missed and hit the teen in the shoulder as he charged in, attempting to grapple the large youth, Cade felt him grab his arms and try to push him over with a clumsy hip throw, Cade simply ripped his arms from the teens weak grip and slammed a fist into his gut.
After three hard months of brutal physical labour, and a rare steady diet of meat and protein, Cade felt stronger than ever before. And he showed this by wrapping his hands around the stunned teen and lifting him off his feet. He felt frantic legs kicking him, hand clawing at his chest as Cade crushed the older boy to his torso, trapping the fucker's arms at his sides.
Cade grinned at the other boy, his face mere inches away, taking sadistic delight in the fear present in those panicked eyes, Cade was about to introduce him to a world of pain, and there was nothing the helpless teen could do to stop him, and he knew it.
With a heave, he tossed the teen as hard as he could straight at the cobblestone floor, clipping the assholes arm on the dumpster handle with a sickening crack on the way down. The teen couldn't even scream as the air was shunted from his lungs, only writhe in pain as he bounced off the hard, filthy floor. Cade spared him any further pain with a quick punch across the mouth, knocking him out cold, and was rewarding with a sharp burst of pain from his hand.
"Ow, fuck." He muttered, seeing his dislocated finger jutting out at a rather gruesome angle, ignoring the pain, he sharply popped it back into position, swallowing a grunt and instead clenching his other hand. Asshole couldn't even get punched properly.
Cade would need to take some restitution for his injury, it would be only proper. Reaching down, he rifled through the unconscious teen's pockets, taking a couple bucks, a lighter, a knife the asshole should've used and his badass bandanna, which Cade promptly wrapped around his swollen hand.
Not a great haul in all honesty.
He was interrupted in considering his spoils by the scraping of something on the ground, he turned to the little girl, who was still curled up on the floor, staring at him with wide wides, eyes, Cade absently noted were different colours.
"The fuck are you still doing here?" Cade growled, he figured she'd have run the moment he started fighting the other boy, it's what any other self-respecting street rat would do. And street rat she was, dressed in a ratty old blue jacket that swallowed her diminutive form, stick thin legs poking out in old jeans, two different sneakers on her feet, one noticeably larger than the other.
She didn't answer, just staring at him with those wide eyes shadowed under unkempt, dual tone hair, one side pink and the other brown.
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