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Two Wrongs Make a Right Ch.29
🕑 Added 2025-04-06 06:20:09 +0000 UTCA few days have passed.
The dense jungle canopy casts dappled shadows across the jungle floor as I guide Brutus through the unexplored eastern jungles of Menagerie. He was getting bored in the backyard, and the pod units didn't seem to be enough for him to play with, so I ended up taking him outside for a walk. I also wanted to see him in action.
My proto-ork moves through the thick jungle with surprising ease, pushing aside branches, bushes, and plants, even tumbling down small trees with his bulk. I ride atop him while Pod hovers silently at my shoulder, his metallic frame gleaming occasionally as sunlight breaks through the canopy.
Yes, for some reason I found a saddle that fit this guy perfectly and he was pretty eager to be mounted.
"ANALYSIS COMPLETE: VEGETATION DENSITY 42% HIGHER THAN WESTERN JUNGLE REGIONS. HUMIDITY LEVELS ELEVATED. CAUTION ADVISED WHEN TRAVERSING UNCHARTED TERRAIN."
I nod absently at Pod's comment, my thoughts elsewhere. With the discoveries of oil and mineral deposits, everyone has been busy with their assigned tasks, and I've been constantly planning ahead, mapping out Menagerie new development plans. Sienna and Kali have been making tentative amends, spending long hours in conversation over tea, their voices sometimes rising but never breaking into outright fights or screaming.
I'm glad things are going well between the two despite what happened.
And Ilia... Ilia is still nowhere to be seen, a fact that stings more than I care to admit. Okay, it is an exaggeration as I know she is around training but she hasn’t come back to the house to talk. Kali reassured me that she would return when she was ready, and I trust my mother's judgment, as my instincts also agree with her, but the absence of my oldest friend leaves a hollow feeling.
"Let's head northeast," I tell Brutus, patting the side of his belly. The tamed Grimm snorts in acknowledgment, changing direction. He bites off a thick tree branch before spitting it onto the ground with a satisfied grunt, and we continue moving in that direction undisturbed.
After some distance, Brutus stops in his tracks and begins sniffing at a particular plant rather loudly before snorting and shaking his big head, only to resume his sniffing and get even closer, his nostrils flaring.
I feel the shaking of his body, so I look back and find that his tail sweeps back and forth with enthusiasm as he keeps investigating the plant that has gained his full attention.
"Do you think he found some cool rocks?" I half-joke as I give my very unique dog another pat on the belly, feeling the rough texture of his hide.
"STATEMENT: GEOLOGICAL SURVEY PARAMETERS EXTEND SIGNIFICANTLY BEYOND THE IDENTIFICATION OF 'COOL ROCKS.' CURRENT MISSION OBJECTIVES INCLUDE: IDENTIFICATION OF POTENTIAL RESOURCE DEPOSITS, MAPPING OF STRATEGIC DEFENSIVE POSITIONS, AND COMPREHENSIVE CARTOGRAPHIC DATA COLLECTION FOR NEW MENAGERIE SECURITY PROTOCOL AND POTENTIAL EXPANSION POINTS."
"It was a joke, Pod," I deadpan, adjusting my blindfold slightly.
"HUMOR SUBROUTINE ENGAGED. PROCESSING JOKE PARAMETERS. HA. HA. THIS UNIT APPRECIATES YOUR ATTEMPT AT LEVITY."
I merely shake my head, a smile creeping into my lips.
However, that moment is interrupted as Brutus abruptly lifts his nose high, almost causing me to fall from the saddle, and he starts barking loudly—a deep, distorted sound that echoes through the jungle. His massive body jumps and shakes with sudden urgency. I quickly hop off before he can shake me loose, my boots landing soundlessly on the soft jungle floor.
"What is it, boy?" I rest one hand on Wilt's handle, scanning the surroundings for threats.
He keeps barking, his eyes gleaming with excitement before running in circles and then charging off toward the west, his massive body crashing through undergrowth and saplings, leaving a small trail of destruction which conveniently creates a path for Pod and me to follow.
With a quick nod to Pod, I dash after my wayward companion, my hand still resting on Wilt's hilt, ready for whatever awaits us in the wilderness of Menagerie.
Following Brutus's trail of destruction is easy enough. Broken branches and trampled undergrowth lead me deeper into the jungle until I find him barking frantically and running in circles in front of what at first glance appears to be a cave. No—not a cave exactly, but more like a large burrow dug into the side of a small hill, its entrance partially concealed by hanging vines and roots.
"Pod?" I gesture toward the ominous opening.
He flies closer, his frame hovering steadily as he conducts his analysis, lights pulsing in rhythmic patterns.
"ANALYSIS COMPLETE: STRUCTURE CONSISTENT WITH GRIMM BURROW. DIMENSIONS INDICATE POTENTIAL DEATHSTALKER HABITAT ACCORDING TO ACCESSIBLE ARCHIVES. ANOMALY DETECTED: NO CHARACTERISTIC SCORPION MARKINGS OR TRACES PRESENT IN VICINITY. CONCLUSION: UNKNOWN GRIMM VARIANT."
I activate my own scanner, sweeping the area methodically. The enhanced display highlights tracks I hadn't noticed before—large impressions in the soft earth, wider than my hand and with distinct claw marks at the edges.
"WARNING: MULTIPLE GRIMM ENTITIES APPROACHING CURRENT POSITION. QUERY: SHOULD THIS UNIT INITIATE COMBAT PROTOCOLS?"
I raise my hand to stop him, my attention fixed on Brutus. My squig has stopped his frantic circling and now stands rigid, a deep growl rumbling from his round belly as he stares intently to our right.
We all turn to look in the same direction. Through the dense foliage, small Grimm creatures emerge, no higher than my knees. They resemble dogs, but with distinctly reptilian features—scaled bodies, elongated snouts, and whip-like tails that lash back and forth. Their bone-white masks gleam in the dappled light, red eyes fixed on us with a clear predatory look.
"IDENTIFICATION COMPLETE: GRIMM VARIANT DESIGNATED AS 'SCALEPACK RAVAGERS' IN HUNTSMAN BESTIARY. PACK HUNTERS WITH HEIGHTENED SENSORY CAPABILITIES. TYPICALLY SUBORDINATE TO LARGER ALPHA SPECIMEN."
Curiously, none of the now identified Scalepack Ravagers make any move to attack. Instead, they lurk at the edges of our small clearing, some climbing nimbly up trees, others weaving between bushes, all hissing with a sound like steam escaping a pressure valve. Their coordinated movements suggest they're attempting to surround us.
Then, as if responding to some silent command, one of the creatures throws its head back and releases a howl—a distorted, unnatural sound halfway between a hiss and a shriek. The others immediately join in, creating a cacophony that confuses me first but quickly puts me in full alert.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up as their collective call is answered by something else—a deep, reverberating roar erupting from the burrow, so powerful I feel it in my chest more than hear it and the ground beneath my feet trembles slightly.
Brutus backs up until he's standing beside me, his massive body tensed and ready. The Scalepack Ravagers fall silent, their attention now fixed on the large opening.
"ALERT: LARGER GRIMM ENTITY DETECTED. THERMAL SIGNATURE INDICATES SUBSTANTIAL SIZE. RECOMMENDATION: STRATEGIC WITHDRAWAL."
Thermal signature?
I shake my head slightly, drawing Wilt partially from its sheath. "Not yet. I want to see what we're dealing with."
The jungle goes eerily quiet as we wait, the only sound the soft mechanical whirring of Pod's systems and Brutus's low, continuous growl. The Scalepack Ravagers remain in position, but their behavior has changed—they're no longer focused on us, but on the burrow, their postures suggesting anticipation rather than aggression.
"What in the world—" I begin, but my words are cut short as the ground shakes again, more violently this time, and something large begins to emerge from the darkness of the burrow.
All at once, the Ravagers scatter, darting into the undergrowth in a surprising frenzied retreat. Before I can process what's happening, a massive, gaping maw erupts from the burrow at shocking speed. I leap sideways, my reflexes kicking in—but I quickly realize the attack wasn't aimed at me.
It was aimed at Brutus.
My loyal squig barks and howls in outrage as the enormous jaws clamp around his midsection. Despite his size, Brutus is thrashed violently as he struggles to break free, his stubby legs kicking wildly at the air.
"BRUTUS!" I shout, planting my feet firmly on the ground and charging toward the attacker. Wilt flashes from its sheath as I deliver a precise strike, cutting a large gash across what I can now see is a scaled flank. Black ichor sprays from the wound, but the creature doesn't release my pet. Instead, it retreats with astonishing speed, dragging my bellowing companion deeper into the jungle.
"Pod! Track them!" I command, already in pursuit.
"AFFIRMATIVE."
Pod shoots ahead, gaining altitude to provide a better view as I race after the sounds of struggle and snapping branches.
I push through dense vegetation, following the trail of destruction until I reach an area where the trees thin out slightly, creating a small clearing. Finally, I get my first clear look at the Grimm that ambushed us.
And the word big would be an understatement, it is a massive reptilian grimm at least three times larger than Brutus. Unlike its smaller kin, this creature's bone-white mask extends down its back in jagged plates, forming a ridge of spikes that run the length of its spine. Its body is barrel-shaped with powerful looking hind legs and shorter front limbs, all ending in hooked claws that look capable of digging deep furrows into the earth. But the biggest trait that takes most of my attention is its distended jaw, which is fully and wide open trying to swallow my Squig who is struggling to NOT be eaten alive.
"ANALYSIS: POSSIBLE BEHEMOTH GRIMM, DESIGNATION: GULPING TERROR. UNIQUE JAW MECHANISM ALLOWS FOR CONSUMPTION OF LARGE PREY. BONE STRUCTURE SUGGESTS CAPABILITY TO STORE MULTIPLE SMALLER GRIMM WITHIN EXPANDABLE GUT CAVITY."
That’s a behemoth?!
And it can eat?!
The now revealed Gulping Terror is currently trying to swallow Brutus whole, working its massive jaws around my squig's thrashing form. But Brutus isn't going quietly—he shifts and contorts his body violently, snapping his own considerable jaws at anything within reach. His red eyes glow with fury as he refuses to be eaten, one of his feet managing to tear a gash in the larger Grimm's hide.
"Keep fighting!" I call out, already visualizing my next move. The supposed behemoth's attention is fully on subduing Brutus, giving me a big opening.
One that I won’t let pass.
I dash forward and with a powerful leap, I plunge my blade deep into the behemoth's back, expecting it to recoil in pain. However, the monster barely acknowledges my attack, remaining fixated on subduing Brutus as it starts shaking his head.
"Fine!" I snarl.
I twist my blade savagely and yank it free before driving it back in repeatedly, creating a gaping wound in the creature's hide. More of that black ichor sprays every time I stab, coating my arms and coat. But then I frown when I take notice that the viscous substance makes a hissing as it makes contact with my clothing and I can feel the heat of it even through my gloves. But that doubt is soon answered as it starts eating away the fabric much to my surprise.
Its blood is acidic?!
But another bark takes my attention back onto the actual problem and I notice that Brutus' struggles are becoming noticeably weaker and the monster is gaining ground.
"ANALYSIS COMPLETE. RECOMMENDATION: INCREASE DAMAGE OUTPUT TO CRITICAL THRESHOLD. TARGET APPEARS TO BE RESISTANT TO PUNCTURE DAMAGE."
"On it!"
In one fluid motion, I sheathe Wilt and combine it with Blush seamlessly morphing into its shotgun form. Only then I slam the barrel directly into the open wound and I pull the trigger repeatedly, each shot accompanied by a flash of fire dust energy as the explosive rounds tear through the monster's internals at point-blank range.
Small fragments of bone-white armor fly in all directions as each shot reaches deeper.
THAT gets the Gulping Terror's attention. It releases a bellowing cry of pain as its massive body jerks upward violently, spine arching but at the same time giving Brutus the opening he needs.
My pet finally breaks free from the loosened jaws, tumbling to the ground and rolling several times before scrambling back to his feet. His hide is slick with the Gulping Terror's saliva, which steams slightly in the humid air. One of his legs appears to be limping slightly, and several patches of his red hide have a darker tone.
But before I can call out to him, Brutus lunges forward with surprising speed, his giant jaw clamping down on the grimm’s neck. The sound of his teeth breaking through the creature's armor plating catches me off guard, as if the bone armor was nothing more like paper..
"ALERT: UNUSUAL ENERGY SIGNATURE DETECTED FROM SUBJECT BRUTUS."
Pod's words catch me off guard. "Energy? Aura? No, that's impossible."
But he no longer looks like a grimm either, just like a normal squig should look… wait wouldn’t that mean…?
Despite being three times smaller than his opponent, Brutus begins to swing the massive Grimm as though it weighs nothing. A faint green glow emanates from his body, pulsing with each movement. I immediately jump away and stay clear of the thrashing limbs but my eyes never leave the shocking sight.
"Pod?"
"AFFIRMATIVE. SUBJECT BRUTUS DEMONSTRATING STRENGTH PARAMETERS EXCEEDING PREVIOUS RECORDS BY 247%. ENERGY SIGNATURE SHOW NO SIMILARITIES WITH AURA BUT ANOMALY. UPDATING DATABASE. RECOMMENDATION: CAPTURE VISUAL DATA FOR FUTURE ANALYSIS."
Brutus, my seemingly ordinary if oversized terrorfang, renamed squig, is ragdolling the Gulping Terror like one of his toys. The larger Grimm's limbs flail wildly as it struggles to escape, its claws tearing gouges in the earth and uprooting smaller plants. Its tail whips through the air, smashing against a tree trunk with enough force to split the bark. Brutus, undeterred, begins to spin, building momentum with each rotation.
With a final whipping motion, Brutus releases his grip, sending the behemoth flying through the air. The massive Grimm crashes through several trees before coming to rest beneath a pile of splintered wood and foliage. The sound of cracking timber and the monster's impact against the ground is loud and a cloud of dust and debris billows upward, momentarily obscuring the impact site. Small creatures scurry from the area in all directions, and I catch glimpses of the Scalepack Ravagers retreating deeper into the jungle.
" PROBABILITY OF SURVIVAL FOR TARGET ENTITY: LOW."
I rush forward, letting my weapon transform to the blade form. My boots sink slightly into the disturbed earth as I approach cautiously. The air is thick with the fresh smell of crushed vegetation but most importantly I catch a whiff of a distinctive acrid smell, meaning it was the grimm black acidic blood.
As the dust begins to settle, I can make out the Gulping Terror's downed form. It's still alive—writhing and flailing its limbs while emitting pained hisses and whimpers, its massive body contorting beneath the fallen trees. Its bone mask is cracked in several places, and one of its eyes has been completely destroyed, leaving a smoking socket. Its jaw hangs at an unnatural angle, clearly dislocated from Brutus's attack.
Brutus trots up beside me, blood and ichor dripping from his jaws, his eyes still glowing with clear battle rage—but now I notice that the glow isn't just from his eyes. Faint lines of red energy trace across his body, following what would be veins in a living creature. They pulse rhythmically, gradually dimming as his breathing slows. He growls low in his throat, clearly ready to finish what he started.
And that when I remember something specific from his original species he is based on.
Waaaagh energy?
I place a hand on Brutus's head, feeling the residual warmth from what I think is Waaagh energy that had coursed through him moments before. He quickly looks at me, his growl softening to a curious rumble as he nudges me a little. The green lines have almost completely faded now, leaving only the usual red color of his rough hide.
So I merely start rubbing his head and quickly moving to scratch under his chin which puts him in a really good mood.
But the pained whine of the behemoth interrupts the moment and draws my attention back to the immediate situation. With a sigh, I step back which is enough for my pet to return to its aggressive and very pissed off state, growling and barking.
"Pod, I hope you were recording.”
"CORRECT. ALL GATHERED DATA WILL BE CROSS EXAMINED LATER WITH FELLOW SUPPORT UNITS."
I take one step forward, Wilt raised to deliver the final blow, but then I stop myself. My gaze shifts from my weapon back to Brutus, who stands beside me with saliva dripping from his jaws as he stares at the wounded grimm. His eyes are fixed on the creature with a primal hunger I've rarely seen.
"Go," I say simply, stepping back.
Brutus barks once—a sharp, eager sound—before leaping forward with renewed energy. He goes straight for the throat again, powerful jaws clamping down on the Gulping Terror's exposed throat. The massive Grimm struggles and roars, its limbs flailing in desperate resistance, but the movements grow increasingly feeble. Within moments, the creature goes limp, its body sagging beneath the weight of fallen trees and Brutus's unrelenting grip.
My squig rips a massive chunk of the throat, rearing back to let out a triumphant roar that echoes through the jungle. But he's not finished. Without hesitation, he lunges again, this time targeting the lower but soft part of the body.
And he begins his feast.
Starting from the stomach, Brutus tears into the creature's dark flesh with savage enthusiasm, ripping away chunks of the Grimm's body and swallowing them whole.
I blink in mild surprise, remembering Brutus's claim that he ate Grimm as he made his solitary journey to Mistral. But seeing it with my own eyes is another thing altogether. Instead of stopping him, I motion for Pod to come closer.
"Pod, take a look at this," I say as the tactical support unit hovers down to my side.
"ANALYSIS: SUBJECT GRIMM CORPSE NOT DISPLAYING TYPICAL DISINTEGRATION PATTERN UPON DEATH. COMPARATIVE ANALYSIS CONFIRMS CLASSIFICATION AS 'BEHEMOTH' VARIANT, MATCHING RECORDS FROM NORTHERN MISTRAL JUNGLE REGIONS."
I snap my head toward Pod, confusion evident even behind my blindfold. "That can't be right. How could this be an actual Behemoth? The one I fought almost a month ago was incredibly powerful and nearly impossible to kill. It wiped out Atlas forces and PMC units without breaking a sweat." I gesture toward the dead creature. "All other accounts of Behemoths describe extremely costly and dangerous fights. This was... relatively simple."
It was Brutus who killed it too, I just gave him a chance to do so.
Pod hovers silently for a moment, lights flashing in sequence as he processes my question.
"HYPOTHESIS FORMULATED: BEHEMOTH CLASSIFICATION LIKELY FOLLOWS STANDARD GRIMM HIERARCHY PATTERNS. COMPARATIVE EXAMPLE: HUMAN RESPONSE TO BEOWOLF VERSUS GOLIATH. CIVILIAN CAPABLE OF ELIMINATING SINGLE BEOWOLF; HUNTSMAN EXHIBITS CAUTION WHEN CONFRONTING GOLIATH. ADDITIONAL ANALOGY: DIFFERENCE BETWEEN NEWBORN FELINE AND ADULT PANTHERA TIGRIS. OR COMPARISON BETWEEN TERRORFANG AND ARACHNE SPECIMENS."
"A predator chain," I murmur, watching as Brutus continues his feast. "Or a predator pyramid. That makes some sense. Behemoths would need to be classified by danger level, just like other Grimm."
"AFFIRMATIVE. ADDITIONAL OBSERVATION: CURRENT SPECIMEN LACKS SPECIALIZED HUNTING ADAPTATIONS OR EFFECTIVE WEAPONS BEYOND CONSUMPTION CAPABILITY. CLAWS APPEAR DESIGNED FOR BURROWING RATHER THAN COMBAT, LACKING RAZOR EDGE TYPICALLY ASSOCIATED WITH PREDATORY GRIMM."
I look back at the Grimm corpse, which Brutus is devouring with obvious delight. The creature's black blood stains the ground, burning some spots of grass but doing nothing to my pet.
"ANALYSIS OF EXPOSED INTERNAL STRUCTURE: BLACK SAC CURRENT TARGET OF SUBJECT BRUTUS'S FEEDING APPEARS TO BE DIGESTIVE ORGAN. UNLIKE DESIGNATION 'BRACHYDIOS,' THIS BEHEMOTH DEMONSTRATED NO INTEREST IN HUMANOID TARGET, FOCUSING EXCLUSIVELY ON POTENTIAL LARGE PREY. CONCLUSION: SPECIMEN REQUIRED SUSTENANCE. THIS SUGGESTS FUNDAMENTAL DIFFERENCE FROM STANDARD GRIMM PHYSIOLOGY."
"This is getting more complicated," I say, watching as Brutus tears into what appears to be the creature's stomach. "You're suggesting Behemoths are Grimm that have somehow become actual living creatures, not just ancient darkness given form?"
I hold my head in thought. I was already forming a hypothesis around these massive monsters but still, if Behemoths represent an evolutionary step beyond normal Grimm—becoming actual biological entities that need to eat and presumably reproduce—then the threat they pose to Remnant could be far different than what we've prepared for. A Grimm that hunts not out of hatred for humanity, but out of biological necessity. A Grimm that might, theoretically, be domesticated or controlled...
I glance at Brutus, who continues his feast, seemingly oblivious to my revelations. Perhaps the answers are closer than I thought.
What would happen if I managed to place a stamp on these behemoths?
I haven’t really considered the idea as they were just monsters and dangerous to approach but maybe I could make this work.
Brutus has consumed most of the soft parts and is now contentedly chewing on one of the hind legs, the bone making cracking sounds as his powerful jaws work through it.
And I can’t help but compare the size with my weapon.
Wilt and Blush suddenly seems almost comically small in comparison, like a toothpick.. I recall the Brachydios we faced previously, remembering that most of the damage it suffered came from Kawakaze and Asagi's artillery barrage, not my blade since I had to use my semblance or attack very specific weak points.
"I'm going to need a bigger sword," I murmur.
Then an idea strikes me. Behemoth's body parts can be harvested, as shown by the Brachydios we have dismantled. So we can dismantle the Gulping Terror as well and forge new weapons or maybe even armor from this. If normal weapons struggle against Behemoths, perhaps a weapon made from a Behemoth might prove more effective.
"Pod, could you generate schematics for a large katana? Something that could utilize the bones from the behemoth?"
"AFFIRMATIVE. PROCESSING REQUEST." Pod's display flickers as it works through the calculations. "GENERATING WEAPON SCHEMATIC BASED ON AVAILABLE MATERIALS AND OPTIMAL COMBAT PARAMETERS FOR USER COMMANDER TAURUS."
Within moments, Pod's projection displays a detailed blueprint for a massive blade—longer and broader than Wilt, with a slight curve that would maximize cutting power. And it is close to be my height
"SCHEMATIC COMPLETE. DESIGNATED PROJECT NAME: 'LEVIATHAN'S FANG.' NOTE: CONSTRUCTION WILL REQUIRE SPECIALIZED EQUIPMENT AND APPROXIMATELY 68% OF AVAILABLE BONE MATERIAL FROM CURRENT SPECIMEN. ADDENDUM: MANOR’S WORKSHOPS POSSESS THE REQUIRED EQUIPMENT TO PROCESS THE MATERIALS AND SUBSEQUENT FORGING."
I nod in satisfaction.
A big weapon for a big monster. Fitting.
Although, how am I supposed to move this?
---------------------------------------------------
The wall-mounted lights cast a warm glow across my office as Sienna sits across from me, her amber eyes fixed on Pod's holographic display. The Behemoth's severed head rests on training yard for everyone to see, still drawing everyone’s attention.
"CROSS EXAMINATION COMPLETE," Pod announces, his mechanical voice cutting through the evening quiet. "BEHEMOTH ENTITIES FOLLOW HIERARCHICAL DANGER SCALING SYSTEM. SPECIMEN DESIGNATED 'GULPING TERROR' REGISTERS AS CLASS 1 OF 5 ON PROPOSED THREAT ASSESSMENT SCALE."
"Class 1?" Sienna leans forward, her brow furrowed. "Then how would you classify the behemoth from Mistral?"
"SUBJECT NAMED BRACHYDIOS CATEGORIZED AS CLASS 4. NOTABLE DIFFERENCES INCLUDE ADVANCED DANGEROUS OFFENSIVE CAPABILITIES, ENHANCED INTELLIGENCE, AND EXPONENTIALLY GREATER DURABILITY."
And that’s an understatement of what that monster was capable of.
I watch Sienna's expression shift as she processes this information. "So not all Behemoths are created equal. That's... something, I suppose."
"There's more," I say, nodding to Pod.
"ADDITIONAL FINDINGS SUGGEST FUNDAMENTAL BIOLOGICAL DIFFERENCES BETWEEN BEHEMOTHS AND STANDARD GRIMM SPECIMENS. EVIDENCE INDICATES BEHEMOTHS REQUIRE SUSTENANCE, POSSESS DIGESTIVE SYSTEMS, AND DEMONSTRATE BEHAVIORS CONSISTENT WITH ACTUAL LIVING ORGANISMS RATHER THAN MANIFESTATIONS OF NEGATIVE ENERGY."
Sienna's ears flatten slightly. "They're actually alive? With needs and... what, the ability to starve?"
"That appears to be the case," I confirm, leaning back in my chair. "Which explains why other Grimm seem to be scared. They eat them."
At least I think they do, based on Brutus' actions. Maybe that’s how they evolve to that, they eat other grimms and with so much energy they force an evolution.
"That's... concerning." Sienna rises from her chair, pacing slowly with tense shoulders. "We have many Behemoths roaming different parts of Menagerie. And that’s not even counting the aquatic ones. Knowing they're not all equally dangerous is small comfort if they're living creatures with biological needs that might change."
Yes, what if they leave their territories in search of more food?
"It gives us options," I counter. "If they need to eat, they can potentially be baited or redirected. Maybe even controlled to some extent."
I must stamp a behemoth as soon as possible.
Sienna falls silent, considering this. After a moment, she changes the subject, gesturing toward the massive head outside. "I must say, it was quite a surprise seeing you drag that thing through the gates. Even if it was possibly the weakest type of Behemoth, the impact was undeniable." A small smile creeps onto her face. "Three more radical clans have essentially asked for total submission since the news spread."
"That's good news," I acknowledge with a nod. "The divisions among our people are becoming increasingly irrelevant. But we also need to focus on the other side of the spectrum so one side isn’t left with more power over the other."
"Perhaps." Sienna's voice softens slightly. "But I would prefer you didn't risk your life doing so. You're too important to Menagerie now." Her hand again moves briefly to her stomach, that gesture is becoming more frequent lately. "To all of us."
I let out a short laugh. "I'm not as fragile as you seem to think, Sienna."
“I know.”
"SECOND CROSS EXAMINATION COMPLETE. CONSTRUCTION OF PROPOSED WEAPON 'LEVIATHAN'S FANG' CAN BEGIN WITHIN 48 HOURS."
Sienna's eyebrows raise. "A new weapon?"
"Something more suited to hunting larger game," I explain, gving another nod to Pod who shows his schematics. "The Behemoth's bone structure is remarkably durable. And just like the Brachydios we were able to harvest, it is possible to produce a blade.."
Sienna tries to understand the schematics as she tilts her head but she shakes her head. “You know what’s best for you, so I won’t say anything.”
She moves toward the door but pauses before leaving. "The ceremony to present the Behemoth head is scheduled for tomorrow evening. The faction heads will be there, as other representatives from the clans." A pause. "Wear something... impressive."
After that she leaves.
Sienna's footsteps fade down the hallway, leaving me alone with Pod and my thoughts.
But not for long as a message notification appears on my vision.
And it is from Atago.
I open it, curious about what the shipgirl would want.
‘The commander always works hard. So I thought you would appreciate a gift awaiting in your home.’
Sweet Home.
Yeah, Atago knows about the dimensional house and that she has access to it since I could trust her to not try to use the place to escape responsibilities, Kawakaze too but she liked to stay with Kali more so I didn’t bring it up.
Asanagi on the other hand…
Yep, she would escape there and take advantage of all the modern luxuries and amenities.
A swirling red portal appears on the wall. I step through, and I’m greeted by the same large home as ever.
The sound of excited barking draws my attention. Brutus comes bounding around a corner and he's carrying what appears to be a bone in his mouth—not just any bone, but one that’s half his size as he is. It must be from the Gulping Terror, though I don't recall giving him a bone.
He runs in delighted circles around me, tail whipping back and forth.
"I see someone's enjoying himself" I comment, reaching out to scratch behind what passes for his ear. "Where's Atago? She said she had something for me."
Brutus drops the enormous bone and barks once, nudging with his head towards the manor. Meaning, Atago is inside.
So I head inside.
"In your bedroom, commander." Atago's voice calls out, echoing slightly through the hallway.
I sigh, already forming assumptions about what this "gift" might entail. Still, I try not to jump to conclusions, she was the more professional and mature one from the shipgirls after all.
I approach my bedroom door, noting the faint scent of incense—something floral but not overpowering. And I really start believing that my first assumption was the right one, I push the door open.
"So what is this-" My voice is cut as I find not just Atago sitting on my bed.
But she had a very naked Asanagi gagged and tied up in her lap who was blushing furiously
“Welcome back Commander. I hope you enjoy this humble gift of mine.”
Okay, I certainly didn’t expect this.
---------------------------------------------------
-9s, Vale city-
The fractured moon casted light over Vale's industrial district, illuminating the imposing silhouette of the Isocube Detention Center. Unlike the elegant architecture that characterized Vale richer districts, this particular building was deliberately intimidating—a massive concrete monolith that rose like a scar against the night sky. Rows of uniform cubic cells stacked upon each other created its distinctive honeycomb appearance, each cell barely large enough to contain a single prisoner.
Nines moved silently through the shadows, her white hair concealed beneath a dark hood. She was alone this time; her team no longer felt the need to babysit her and trusted her to navigate the city independently. Although she could imagine Weiss's disapproving expression if she knew Nines was out so late in this particularly dangerous district. The heiress would likely lecture her about safety, despite the fact that she was more than capable of protecting herself from any threat, mostly gangsters, and that she had the portals to escape.
Still, Nines couldn’t help but feel a small smile touching her lips. The sentiment behind Weiss's concern was appreciated.
She circled the facility's perimeter, maintaining a careful distance to avoid triggering any potential security measures, although so far she hasn’t detected a system yet. Commander Taurus had been explicit about this mission—gather as much as information without taking risks. A VIP of significant importance to the White Fang was being held within those walls, and Nines needed to find a way to access the security network.
After completing her third circuit, she identified what she was looking for—a large concrete block housing what her sensors identified as primary power distribution equipment. However, nothing was accessible from the exterior, no small door or anything meaning it must be inside the block, which was an odd design choice.
So she shifted her gaze upward, her enhanced vision picking out a secondary electrical junction box mounted on a nearby lamppost, connected via cables to the main concrete housing. A quick environmental scan confirmed what her initial sweep had suggested—while the perimeter had multiple security cameras, there was a small blind spot near the junction box, likely an oversight in the system's design.
After meticulously verifying no witnesses were present and no cameras could detect her activities, Nines positioned herself within the blind spot. She closed her eyes, focusing her consciousness as she activated her special ability—what her team would recognize as her "Semblance" but was actually her intrinsic function as a Scanner model.
She had spent considerable time learning about Remnant's operating systems and how they functioned. The technology wasn't particularly challenging for her advanced capabilities—far simpler than the machine network she had hacked daily back in her world. Those systems had updated hourly, requiring constant adaptation and innovative approaches. In comparison, Vale's infrastructure was practically archaic. She was more than ready to breach the prison's security.
Her consciousness extended outward, interfacing with the electrical junction. Data flowed through her awareness as she navigated through the initial security layers. The architecture was familiar, similar to other systems she'd studied throughout Vale.
Then she paused, her digital consciousness encountering something unexpected.
'That's strange,' she thought, probing deeper into the network. The realization materialized slowly but certainly—this wasn't the prison's main system at all. It was merely a separate auxiliary network, likely handling only the external lighting and peripheral security measures.
Nines withdrew from the connection, opening her eyes with a slight frown behind her blindfold.
This setback meant she would need to locate another access point, one with a direct connection to the prison's central systems, or outer systems; both options worked for her.
Either way the mission had just become more complicated.
She stepped back into the shadows, her gaze sweeping across the facility's imposing exterior. If the external junction wasn't connected to the main network, then the access point would have to be closer to the building itself.
It would increase the security risk but it was still under the limit the commander gave her.
Nines decided on a more direct approach.
Scanning the perimeter security, she identified the network of cameras and motion sensors protecting the facility's outer wall. Rather than disabling them—which would immediately trigger alarms—she hacked into their local control nodes, carefully feeding false information to the monitoring systems. To the guards watching their screens, everything would appear perfectly normal.
"Temporary loop established," she murmured to herself.
With the security blinded to her presence, she moved swiftly toward the wall. She easily scaled the concrete barrier and vaulted over the top and dropped into a crouch on the other side. The prison yard stretched before her, bathed in harsh artificial light contrasting sharply with the deep shadows that had been used earlier.
Staying close to the wall, Nines navigated through blind spots in the security system until she located what she was looking for—a service panel connected to the building's internal power grid. This would provide direct access to the main systems.
She placed her palm against the metal surface, once again extending her consciousness into the digital realm.
This network had more robust security measures than the external systems, but still nothing compared to what she had faced during the Machine Wars.
'Additional encryption layers... outdated protocols... predictable authentication sequences,' she noted as she methodically dismantled each security measure.
Seconds later, she was in. Information flooded her awareness—detailed facility layouts, security protocols, prisoner manifests, and guard rotations. Most importantly, she pinpointed Roman Torchwick's exact location within the facility. The notorious criminal was being held in the facility's eastern wing, his cell being streamed 24/7. Besides the many security and locks around his cell, although it wasn’t to hold back the man but anyone who tried to break him free from the outside.
Well, she could crack all security easily enough but that wasn’t her mission at the moment.
Huh, 80% of the facility population are faunus, not surprising.
Nines compiled all relevant data into an encrypted report, first transmitting it to Pod for secure storage and analysis. The entire infiltration had taken less than five minutes.
She should improve her time.
With the mission complete, she carefully withdrew from the network, erasing all traces of her presence. Just to be extra sure. She reversed her path, using the same blind spots to return to the wall, scaling it with the same effortless precision, and dropping silently to the ground outside the perimeter.
Just as she disabled her camera loop, allowing the security systems to resume normal function, her scroll vibrated in her pocket so she quickly left the family behind.
Only then Nines checked the display, Ruby was calling.
She was kinda missing Pod who used to handle her calls but she did like the scroll in a strange way.
"Hello, Ruby."
"Nines! Where are you? It's getting pretty late!" Her team leader sounded worried although she seemed to relax now that she answered.
"Don’t worry." Nines replied, taking another turn. "I'm heading back now. Would you like me to bring something back for you?"
"No, that's fine, just get back safely, okay? Weiss is pretending she's not worried, but she keeps looking at the clock." Ruby finished with a small laugh.
"Understood. I'll return shortly." Nines confirmed with a nod, even though Ruby couldn't see it.
Ending the call, she quickened her pace toward the metro line. If she hurried, she could still catch the last bullhead back to Beacon. As Vale's industrial sector fell behind her, Nines allowed herself a moment of satisfaction.
Mission success.
Now she could focus on the extra study sessions with Weiss, they were moving onto another volume of Dust applications and she was curious about it, after all.
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Bonus scene: Loyalty above all else
It had been a long while since returned to her small desk as she was in MIstral relocating her kinsmen across Mistral, and carefully spreading the word. As for now she methodically works through stacks of accumulated paperwork and starts the filtering. Her grey fingers sorted through projects, requests, and initiatives. The "Menagerie Defense Perimeter Expansion," filled with tactical proposals. The "White Fang Continental Recruitment Strategy," detailing ambitious plans for expansion. She evaluated each one.
Those that seemed detrimental to the High Leader she shredded on the spot, the sound of tearing paper providing a small satisfaction as she eliminated potential problems before they could reach Adam Taurus' desk. This was one of her sacred duties—to filter out the noise and present only what was worthy of his attention so he could use his time efficiently.
A knock at her door preceded the entrance of another faunus—a lizard woman with emerald scales running down her forearms. She carried another stack of documents, her workload was bigger than expected..
"More reports requiring review, Trifa." the woman said, placing them on the corner of the desk.
Trifa nodded curtly. "You're dismissed." Her tone was polite but left no room for unnecessary conversation. The subordinate bowed slightly before departing, leaving Trifa alone once more with her important work.
She began sorting through the new stack as usual until her eyes caught something unusual.
It was her patriarch's signature on one of the documents. That alone made her pause, pulling it aside for closer inspection.
And it was a very long document, with equally many pages filled with flowery language about "strategic alliances" and "cultural preservation initiatives." Meaningless words bloated the paper, but it was her trained eye that quickly filtered through the diplomatic nonsense to find the true purpose buried within: a formal request for the hand of Kali Belladonna in marriage.
Trifa's fingers tightened around the paper, crumpling its edges before she deliberately ripped it into tiny pieces, watching with small satisfaction as the pieces fluttered to the floor.
The audacity.
The sheer disrespect.
How dare anyone even consider such blasphemy?
Kali Belladonna belonged to Adam Taurus.
Nobody was worthy to even THINK about the mother of the High Leader. Only he could claim her as a mate and carrier of the next bloodline. Only he could look at her. Only he could touch her. It was his right as the true chieftain and High-leader of the White Fang. By the law of next of kin, taking the great Ghira's place, may his great soul rest in peace.
No. This wasn't merely an insult committed by yapping mongrels, it was a potential threat to her leader’s authority. Such a disgusting show of disrespect could not be allowed to fester in their ranks, much less in the factions.
She snapped her fingers sharply, the sound cutting through the silent office like a whip. Within seconds, her subordinate appeared at her door.
"I need a full investigation on document request A-437," she ordered, doing her best to maintain her calm. "Find out who drafted it, who approved it, and who influenced its creation. I want names. All of them."
As her subordinate hurried away, Trifa's lips curved into a dangerous smile. It didn't matter if her patriarch was behind this or some over ambitious mongrel. Anyone who dared to undermine Adam Taurus' rightful claim would be eliminated.
Swiftly. Cleanly. Permanently.
She would save her High Leader the trouble of dealing with such filth. After all, she was loyal to the High-Leader above all else—above her clan, above her family, above even her own life.
And she would prove that loyalty in blood if necessary.
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AN: Loyalty is a double edged sword.
