The first rays of dawn filtered through the trees as Crimson set out for Vale, his silhouette frad against the early morning light. He set out with purpose, heading toward the weapon smith's shop in the city. The conversation from the night before echoed in his mind—his father had finally agreed to tell Yang about her mother, Raven. It wasn't a subject to tread lightly. Crimson figured it was better to give them space.
When Crimson arrived at the weapon shop, the assortnt of weapons on display imdiately caught his eye. Rows of blades, guns, and hybrid weaponry filled the room, each gleaming under the lights. He browsed briefly, but nothing appealed to him. The designs were flashy, impractical, or burdened with unnecessary attachnts. Eventually, Crimson approached the weapon smith, a grizzled man with a wary yet curious expression.
"I need a katana," Crimson said. "A classic weapon. No gimmicks, no attachnts. Just the blade."
The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow. "You're one of a kind, I'll give you that. Most people nowadays want all the bells and whistles—dust chambers, energy cores, transformation chanisms. You're asking for sothing old-school."
"Not old-school," Crimson replied, his voice calm. "Tiless."
After a mont's thought, the weapon smith disappeared into the back of the shop. When he returned, he carried a simple katana in its scabbard. The blade had no ornantation, no special features—just a perfectly forged weapon, balanced and deadly.
Crimson examined the katana carefully, testing its weight and inspecting the steel. The craftsmanship was impeccable. "How much?" he asked.
The shopkeeper shrugged. "You'd be surprised—no one wants these anymore. I'll let it go for next to nothing."
When Crimson heard the price, he couldn't help but chuckle. It was less than a tenth of the cheapest weapon on display. "People these days don't know quality when they see it," he muttered to himself, sliding the katana into its scabbard and handing over the paynt.
As the hours passed and the sun climbed higher in the sky, Crimson made his way back ho. When he arrived, he was greeted by the sight of Professor Oobleck and Professor Port sitting in the living room with his father. The last ti he'd seen the two professors was on the night of the invasion.
"Mr Rose!" Oobleck greeted, his energy as boundless as ever. "Good to see you again!"
"Likewise," Crimson replied.
Taiyang grinned. "Yang already left, by the way. She said to send her regards. Guess she threw you away for her mom the mont she got the chance."
Crimson smiled faintly. "Can't bla her. She deserves answers."
Oobleck's sharp eyes caught sight of the katana at Crimson's waist. "Ah, what's this? A new accessory? Are you finally planning to beco a huntsman?"
Crimson's smile deepened. "No, I don't plan on becoming a huntsman." He paused, his tone growing more serious. "But after everything that's happened, I've decided to change my profession."
Taiyang leaned forward, curiosity piqued. "And what's that supposed to an? If not a huntsman, then what?"
Crimson's voice was calm but carried a weight that silenced the room. "I'm going to beco a man-slayer."
The three n stared at him, stunned. For a mont, the room was heavy with disbelief—until Port broke into a booming laugh, followed by the others. "Good one, lad! You have a dark sense of humor."
Crimson didn't laugh. Instead, he turned to Oobleck. "You once asked a question in class, Professor. What would I do if the 'necessary evil' casualty was one of my sisters. Do you rember?"
Oobleck nodded slowly, his sharp mind already piecing together where this was heading.
"I keep my word," Crimson said, his tone unyielding. "The White Fang will beco an example for everyone."
Taiyang's brow furrowed. "And how exactly are you planning to find them? If it were that easy, the kingdoms would've taken care of them by now."
Crimson's gaze turned cold, his voice quiet but firm. "nagerie. They'll have a branch there, and they'll give everything I need."
The air in the room grew tense as Professor Oobleck finally broke the silence. "Crimson, you can't seriously be considering nagerie. That continent is a sanctuary for the Faunus. They won't take kindly to a human setting foot there—especially one seeking vengeance against their people."
Crimson's cold gaze t Oobleck's, unwavering. "It doesn't matter. I'm not going there in peace. They either give the information I want, or I'll consider every person on that continent part of the White Fang. Eventually, they'll break—or the continent will burn."
A chill swept through the room as his words sank in. The sheer finality in his tone left no doubt that he ant every word. Taiyang's voice trembled with a mix of anger and disbelief. "That's not the right way, Crimson. It's not moral, and even if it were, you can't do this alone. nagerie has tens of thousands of people. What could you possibly do against that?"
Crimson let out a dark chuckle, the sound devoid of warmth. "You'd be surprised how fragile life is," he said, his voice low and eerie. "A single disease, a well-placed cut, even an emotion like despair can bring it all crashing down. Life isn't as durable as people like to believe."
The three n in the room exchanged uneasy glances, their discomfort growing as Crimson continued.
"They did the sa to Vale," he said, his voice steady but filled with malice. "They sowed fear and destruction, and they were willing to pay any price for their cause. So, they can resist all they want. In the end, fear will continue what I can't. Fear will bring reinforcents. Eye for an eye. Evil for evil."
He paused, his bloodlust beginning to seep into the room like a tangible force. "That night, the White Fang made a choice. Now they'll learn what it costs. And if the entire Faunus race sides with them, then they'll share their fate. Extinction. No exceptions. No escape."
Oobleck and Port shifted uncomfortably, their instincts screaming at them to move, to put distance between themselves and the growing storm before them. Crimson's presence was suffocating, his quiet rage manifesting as an aura of unrelenting pressure.
Crimson turned and walked toward his room. His final words hung in the air like a death knell. "I'll prepare for my journey. Don't try to stop ."
As the door to his room closed, Taiyang let out a shaky breath. "Now I understand what Ruby and Yang ant. They said Crimson was terrifying when he's angry. I think… he's been angry ever since that night, and he's just been hiding it while his sisters were around."
Oobleck nodded slowly, still feeling the lingering weight of Crimson's presence. "If he truly unleashes himself on nagerie… the continent may not survive. We have all seen what he's capable of. His strength, his speed, his stamina—they're almost inhuman. If he spreads enough fear, the Grimm will inevitably join the fray. It would be disastrous."
Port frowned, his usual jovial deanor replaced with grim concern. "Tai, you're his father. He'll listen to you."
Taiyang shook his head, his voice heavy with resignation. "You don't understand. Crimson's as stubborn as a mule. When he sets his mind on sothing, there's no stopping him. You can only pray the people in nagerie will not be as stubborn"
The room fell into silence once more, the three n left to grapple with the enormity of what was to co. Oobleck and Port shared a quiet prayer that the continent wouldn't be devastated, but deep down, they knew the storm had already begun to brew.
_______________________
The dim light of the blackened castle flickered eerily, the oppressive atmosphere weighing heavy on those who gathered in the grand hall. Salem sat at the head of the obsidian table, her pale hands folded before her. Her crimson eyes scanned her inner circle, each face showing varying degrees of loyalty, ambition, or fear.
Her voice, calm yet commanding, broke the silence. "Cinder is on the path to recovery," she began, her tone devoid of sympathy. "The wounds she suffered at Crimson's hands were severe. If not for the Maiden's power coursing through her veins and the Grimm embedded within her, she would have perished."
Cinder, seated further down the table, lowered her head, hiding the mix of anger and fear that churned inside her. The re ntion of Crimson sent shivers down her spine. Her trembling hand instinctively moved to the scars on her face, each a brutal reminder of her humiliating defeat. She vividly recalled the horror of that fight—the monstrous strength and speed that allowed Crimson to defeat her, then how he proceeded to rip her arm and leg away as if they were nothing, the sharp agony of her eye being dug out by his sword. The mories left her paralyzed with both hatred and terror. She wanted vengeance, but the thought of facing him again made her blood run cold.
Salem's lips curled into a faint, mocking smile as she observed Cinder's reaction. "The power Crimson displayed was extraordinary, far beyond what even I anticipated from a human. He poses a threat to our plans, especially in Mistral and Haven Academy. It's inevitable that Ozpin's allies will look to him for help."
The room grew tense as her words settled over the group. Salem turned her gaze toward Tyrian, the manic grin on his face betraying his excitent. "Tyrian, you are to et Adam Taurus. Convince him to return to our fold. We will need the White Fang's strength once more."
Tyrian bowed deeply, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. "It will be my pleasure, my queen. Adam will fall in line, I'll make sure of it."
Satisfied with his eagerness, Salem shifted her attention to the doorway as a new presence entered the room. The sound of light footsteps echoed, followed by a figure stepping into the faint light. A petite girl with pale skin and striking heterochromia—one pink eye and one brown—stood before them. The faint smirk on her lips matched the air of confidence she exuded.
"Allow to introduce the newest mber of our circle," Salem announced, gesturing toward the girl. "Neopolitan."
"With Cinder recovering, our plans must not falter," Salem continued. "Once she is ready, we will move against Haven Academy. Everyone here will play their part. This ti, we will ensure there are no surprises."
Her words carried a chilling finality as she stood, signaling the eting's end. "Prepare yourselves. The ti to strike draws near."
As the mbers of the inner circle dispersed, Cinder remained seated, her mind clouded with conflicting emotions. The specter of Crimson haunted her thoughts, but deep within, the fla of her resolve began to flicker anew.
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