Chapter 8: To the Victor Comes the Spoils
You never really know what you have until it's gone.
In this case, it was plush seats and air conditioning.
I sighed, sinking deeper into the limo's cushions, and took another bite of watermelon. Uncaring as the juice dripped freely down my arm, staining the snow-white leather seats.
Me and Ilia had settled in comfortably after the fight. The light rations we'd had back at camp weren't nearly enough, so—naturally—I manifested more watermelon. Sweet, crisp, and cold. It was perfect. We ate in silence, the only sounds were the crunch of fruit, the dull hum of the engine, and the soft plinking of sand grains bouncing off the limo.
I couldn't help but grin into the rind when I opened the familiar notification lit up in the corner of my vision.
Feat Achieved!
You slayed the Sunpiercer, the blight of the sands!
+1 Platinum Ability Gacha Ticket
A chuckle escaped me at the pun that immediately came to mind.
"What's so funny?" Ilia asked, smiling faintly as she leaned against my shoulder, her own slice in hand. She looked better now with some color in her cheeks, breathing steady. That aura link I pulled earlier had done its job.
"If you think about it," I said, trying to keep a straight face, "we pierced the Sunpiercer."
She groaned loudly, rolling her eyes, though her smile betrayed her. "Please, don't start."
"Psh. Everybody's a critic," I muttered, taking another big bite.
While she fought off laughter, I decided to cash in some of my winnings. First, the silver ticket I'd gotten for unlocking my Semblance. The familiar sound of coins clattering echoed through my head as the wheel spun, and I leaned into the simple pleasure of it all.
Congratulations!
[Cardboard World]
|Uncommon Trait|
You have complete and perfect control over your own strength and the power you exert, even with enough power to shatter a planet you can still easily punch with low enough force to not hurt a foam brick.
Not bad. Actually, quite decent, considering my Semblance. The thought of never accidentally turning someone's head into a red mist with an uppercut was a relief.
Then came the main course, the platinum ticket~
My eyes narrowed as the usual simple roll was replaced this time with a triumphant fanfare. Celebratory chimes and flashes of bright colors, almost kaleidoscopic.
My heart skipped a beat.
Did I just—?
Congratulations!
[Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan - Sasuke]
|Legendary Ability|
Naruto - Allows you to use the Mangekyo Sharingan possessed by Sasuke Uchiha, in addition to all of the abilities of the normal Sharingan that are enhanced, this allows the user to summon and control Amaterasu and summon a Susanoo.
I froze.
The Gacha pulled from pop culture before—my fishman trait was from One Piece, after all—but this? A world-famous ability that was instantly recognizable? Never in a million years had I expected it.
Excitement spiked through me. Without hesitation, I slotted it into my first ability slot…
…and instantly regretted it.
Agony stabbed through both eyes like molten needles. I cried out, rind slipping from my fingers, hands shooting up to clutch my face as hot wetness leaked between them.
"Sam!? Sam! You're bleeding!" Ilia's voice cracked with panic.
"It's fine—ugh!" I grit my teeth, forcing myself to breathe through it. "I just… have to get used to it."
The pain ebbed gradually, leaving a lingering throb as I lifted my hands from my face. I immediately noticed my vision sharpened unnaturally, edges of the world were crisp, and every grain of sand outside cutting like glass. My body trembled as the new power settled, heavy and demanding.
The sheer energy drain was insane. Just activating it felt like channeling the same effort it took to trap the Sunpiercer in that massive water orb.
It seems that Legendary abilities were truly on a whole different level.
When I turned to Ilia, my vision betrayed me as it recorded every line of her face, every misplaced lock of hair, storing it away with flawless clarity. Uchiha eyes weren't just for fighting. They remembered everything when they were activated, perfectly.
"Your eyes…" Ilia breathed, leaning closer. Her expression was half awe, half unease. "They look like flowers. Are those… from your memories? What do they do?"
What didn't they do?
"That's right. And if I remember correctly… a whole bunch of stuff." I forced a shrug, trying to downplay it. These eyes weren't just dangerous—they were even terrifying now that they actually existed outside of paper or a monitor. And now, they were mine.
Ilia arched a brow. "You don't know?"
"Weeell…" My voice faltered. I did know. One power turned everything I saw into ash. And another summoned a mecha spirit clad in armor. Yet my inner child was clawing at the walls of my self-control, desperate to see it for real.
Giving in, I pressed the button on the limo door and rolled down the window, heat from the desert air spilling in. Spotting a rocky outcrop in the distance, I gestured to Chaff in the rearview. He slowed the car, then brought it to a halt.
Ilia's curiosity prickled behind me, but I focused on the pillar. If I remembered correctly the left eye should—
'Amaterasu!'
The moment I forced it, my head snapped back with a strangled yelp. The draining sensation hollowed me out instantly. My vision blurred, clarity vanishing as quickly as it came.
A single second burst. That was all it took to leave me gasping as I felt my energy run empty. I really should find the time to properly train all my shit after all this.
Ilia's sharp intake of breath made me turn—
—and I froze.
The stone pillar that had stood tall seconds ago was gone, melted into a puddle of glowing slag. Black flames still clung to it like flies. Even from twelve feet away, the heat pressed against my skin, heavy and suffocating.
…Damn…
We sat in silence, entranced by the flames until they finally guttered out, leaving nothing but dust and ash. The fire had burned so hot it hadn't even bothered to leave smoke. A full minute passed before the limo rumbled forward again, Chaff taking it as his cue. The window slid shut, cool air brushing against my skin—something I was more than grateful for.
When I turned, Ilia was still watching me, a quiet wonder flickering in her eyes. She shook her head softly and set her fruit aside before reaching for the scarf around my neck. With careful hands, she pulled it free and began dabbing at the blood on my face, her touch gentle but sure.
"Only you, Sam," she murmured, half exasperated and half warm.
The rest of the ride was quiet, uneventful, until the limo slowed to a stop near the bent and rusted chain-link fence.
We were finally here.
"Thanks for the lift, Chaff," I said to my driver, who lifted a rocky hand and gave me a thumbs up as a response.
"Ready to go?" I asked, glancing at Ilia.
"Mhm." She nodded.
The moment we stepped out, the heat and sand clawed at my throat, forcing me into a cough. Once it cleared, I took stock of the building looming in front of us.
The holograms hadn't done it justice like it did with Sunpiercer.
Even from where I stood, it was bigger than a city shopping mall, though time had not been kind to it. Polished steel had dulled to a lifeless gray, cement walls had split into spiderweb cracks, and the heavy drills and vehicles abandoned in the sand looked more like gravestones than tools. Some were half-buried, others filled to the brim with grit, frozen mid-dig forever.
The main entrance was hopelessly sealed off, the weight of the desert pressing against it. There weren't even windows to break into either.
"They probably didn't bother with any because of the sandstorms," Ilia said, reading my thoughts, and I had to agree.
So we circled the perimeter with the whistle of the wind in our ears and the sun burning on our backs. The place stretched on and on, and I was about to call it quits—maybe even suggest trying the far side—when Ilia suddenly darted ahead.
I followed close behind and stopped dead at what she'd found.
A hole.
A really big hole.
Half of it yawned beneath the building itself, like some giant manhole cover had been ripped away. Sandstone lined the exposed walls, rough and uneven, and my fishman eyes cut through the shadows, seeing details most people would miss.
"It looks like it was dug open," Ilia said, glancing back at me, worry in her eyes.
"I'll go first," I told her. Then, without hesitation, I leapt into the waiting black maw.
The hole was wide enough that we didn't need to crawl, but the way it sloped downward made each step careful, deliberate. Sand crunched under my boots, sliding a little with every shift of weight. The walls were raw, uneven, chunks of sandstone torn apart by something that hadn't cared for neatness.
Ilia kept close, her scroll casting a pale circle of light that moved with us. It showed the gouge marks in the walls, deep and rough, the kind of scarring you only saw when something big and determined forced its way through solid rock.
"This is definitely not man-made," Ilia muttered from behind me, her voice bouncing faintly down the incline.
"Yeah," I said, my hand brushing one of the grooves. The stone was sharp where it had been broken, not worn. "Sunny really did make its home here."
The air got cooler the deeper we went, carrying the faint scent of dry dust and minerals. Every step downward felt like we were moving further away from Menagerie, from the noise and light of the surface, into somewhere that was meant to stay hidden.
Ilia's hand brushed my arm as we adjusted to the slope. I glanced back at her and gave her a faint smile, a quick reassurance in the dim.
"Just keep moving," I said.
So we did. Step after step, following the gouged-out trail into the depths. The tunnel swallowed our voices and the desert above until it was just us—the scrape of boots, the hollow echo of our breathing, and the slow pull of the earth beneath.
After what felt like an eternity, our feet finally met level ground…
…of tiles.
I blinked. "...Flooring?"
And what lay before us was even stranger.
Instead of a hollowed-out cave where more Grimm might be waiting, a vast laboratory stretched out in eerie silence. Massive machines of unknown purpose sat dormant as layers of dust dulled their once-polished metal, cobwebs strung themselves between consoles and piping, vials of inert chemicals lay toppled and shattered across the floor, staining papers and rusting trays while rows of cages—small, medium, and large—lined the walls, their doors bent open with all of them empty.
A chill needled the back of my neck.
"When Wolf mentioned 'research,'" I said carefully, turning to Ilia, "what research was she talking about?"
She moved closer to one of the cages, running her fingers over the cold bars. "According to rumors… they were studying the land. Checking if the desert had either Dust deposits or minerals worth harvesting."
I frowned. "Then why the cages?"
"...Good question."
I kept scanning until my eyes snagged on a fuse box tucked in the far corner, half-hidden beside a cluttered shelf.
"There!" I jogged toward it, footsteps booming in the dead air.
"Sam, wait. We don't even know if—"
The lever clicked, a deep hum rolled through the walls, and one by one sterile white lights flickered to life overhead. Somewhere, a long-slumbering generator groaned awake.
"—it'll work," Ilia finished, shading her eyes against the sudden glare. Then she smirked. "Nice."
I grinned at the hidden praise, but my attention drifted toward a desk in the corner. A single computer sat there, its monitor faintly glowing.
"Ilia, come take a look at this." I said as I approached the thing.
She joined me quickly, leaning in. The login screen was already filled in.
"…Dr. Merlot," she read aloud.
"Ring any bells?" I asked, hoping maybe her Atlas background carried a rumor or two.
"Not really. But if the login's already filled…" She tapped Enter.
The screen went black instantly, the CPU whined, and then—pop—the entire machine died as Ilia flinched back.
"It… must've been trapped to crash if someone touched it."
"Oh shoot! I'm so, so sorry!" she panicked, her skin flushing into an embarrassed brown as she jabbed at the keyboard in desperation, as if she could coax it back to life.
"Hey, it's fine." I laid a hand on her shoulder with a small smile. "We're not here to uncover all their secrets. Just to prove we found the place."
"R-right. Eheheh…" Her laugh was sheepish, the color at her cheeks softening to a faint pink before fading away.
My gaze swept further across the lab, landing on an emergency stairwell tucked against the far wall. If I had to guess, it led up into the refinery proper.
"Sam?" Ilia's voice was quieter this time.
"Yeah?"
Her eyes searched the room, unease written clear in her face. "Everything here looks either broken, damaged, or old. Are you sure there's anything left in this place that could… y'know, actually help against the Grimm pools?"
I looked around, almost convinced Ilia was right. Still, I just smiled at her being completely confident in my abilities.
"Pretty sure."
[Ability Slot 1]
[Tinker – Ecology]
The moment the ability clicked into place, I slipped into that fugue state again…except this time it wasn't complete. The world didn't vanish into static and instead, it dimmed like a half-drawn curtain. And for the first time, I understood how it actually worked.
It was… like a database for lack of a better term. Not a neat little list, but an infinite, chaotic library packed with designs, constructs, formulas—every possible shape of technology tied to nature and its manipulation.
Solar panels? The ability offered a thousand variations from crystaline silicone to organic photovoltaics. Fertilizers? Over two thousand tailored to soil types and ecosystems. Each option presented itself like a thread I could pull that was fit for the materials I had at hand.
Every vial of colored liquid in this place, I now knew down to its exact chemical composition. Every hulking machine collecting dust, I could operate with instinct as if I'd been trained for years, only so long as it had to deal with ecological construction.
"Uh, Sam?" Ilia's voice broke through the haze. She was staring at me, worried.
I blinked, pulling myself back to the present. "Yup. Still here. Something wrong?"
She sighed, shoulders easing. "Nothing's wrong. I was just worried you'd go full robot on me again, like last time."
"Beep. Boop," I teased with grin, mimicking a monotone.
"That's not funny." She pouted, though I saw her eyes sparkle in amusement.
I chuckled, then let my eyes roam the lab for what matched the blueprint whispering at the edge of my thoughts. A piece, in particular, stood out.
"Apparently, they were working with Grimm down here."
Ilia jolted. "What!? How could you possibly—"
I pointed to a rack of vials filled with inky, tar-like liquid. "Grimm fluid. Explains the cages too, don't you think?" I said, picking them up carefully as I approached said rack.
She followed my gaze, realization dawning. "You're right. Grimm wouldn't leave any traces. But… why?"
"Who knows? But that's not important right now. Hey—pass me that doohickey near that shelf over there."
For the next hour, we worked side by side. I scavenged parts, connected tubes, jury-rigged power cells, reshaped alloys in my hands as if they wanted to bend for me. By the end of it, I was holding something that looked like a cross between a flamethrower and a gearpunk rifle with the gears exposed and tubing humming faintly with pressure, everything.
Ilia blinked. "Is that…a gun?"
"Of sorts," I said, screwing a nozzle into place.
"Alright. So that's the delivery system, done. Now…" I held up the vials of black sludge and loaded them into the centrifuge, locking the lid with deliberate care.
Ilia then leaned in over my shoulder. "You're seriously spinning Grimm fluid? What are you trying to make?"
"It's the way their essence corrupts and reshapes environments by just touching it. I'm trying to…'pull' that property out for something specific."
As the centrifuge whirred, I noticed something else that I didn't before. The Tinker ability wasn't just guiding me. It was fixing things. A wire that should've snapped fused together instead. A material that needed to be gold shifted in my hands until it gleamed correctly.
The whole thing was only possible because of the "Terraforming Equipment" clause.
The centrifuge dinged.
When I lifted the lid, the black vials were gone. In their place, a new substance gleamed—bright emerald, glowing faintly as if alive.
Ilia gasped, hand flying to her mouth. "You… changed it. You actually did it."
I smirked, holding up the vial. "Told you I could do it~"
"What is it?"
"I call it 'Green Solution'." I then let a single drop fall to my fingertip, then flicked it playfully at her.
She squeaked. "Hey! …Wait. It smells like…grass?"
"On its own, it's harmless." I gestured to the rifle. "But with this delivery method…"
"The gun?"
"The gun..."
Sliding the vial into the chamber, I cocked the weapon. It hissed and hummed, green light pulsing along its tubing. Ilia took an instinctive step back.
"...It'll spread the formula effectively. Fast and wide, spreading until the entire pool is cleaned."
Her awe was plain as she whispered, "That's amazing… What do you call it?"
I couldn't help but grin. There was only one name that fit.
"…The Clentaminator."
A sudden spark then ran through my head, and I couldn't stop my tail from twitching in excitement.
"Hey, Ilia. Can you shoot a message to Wolf? Tell her to meet us here—I'm gonna need Smithy's help."
She raised a brow. "I'll probably need to climb to the roof for a signal, but sure. What for?"
"I feel like I need an Igor to my Doctor Frankenstein."
"…A what to your…what?"
"I'll explain later," I waved her off, already rummaging for more parts. "In the meantime, I'm gonna try making more of these so I don't have to go trek across the whole island. Now that I've got a working prototype… I think I can make it better."
I grinned to myself. I feel like I've just reached my mad scientist phase!
A few hours later—
"So again," Whisper drawled, lounging beside the armored van with Ilia, "he just walked off carrying you like a princess after unleashing divine wrath with a single punch?"
Ilia's face burned. "Y-yeah. He's just… like that, I guess…"
"Ugh. I'm so freaking jealous of you right now." Whisper groaned.
Their reunion had been brief but intense—relief, followed by Ilia getting her ear tugged half to death by Captain Wolf for nearly getting herself killed. Still, Ilia had managed to report everything: their battle with Sunpiercer, the hidden laboratory, and Sam's discovery.
The squad didn't know much about "Dr. Merlot" or what were his intentions with the Grimm either—just that whoever he was, he was long gone. What did matter however was the revelation that Sam had found a way to neutralize the Grimm pools poisoning Menagerie's deserts.
"Annnd that's everything," Slinger finished with a sigh.
The van rocked as he and Claire loaded the last crates into the back.
"Why does your boyfriend need all this stuff, anyway?" Claire asked, dusting her hands.
"H-he's not my boyfriend!"
"Not yet," Whisper muttered, smirking. Ilia's hair immediately flushed pink as she pouted.
After forcing herself calm, Ilia sighed, "He just doesn't want to end up being a hermit out here. Says if he ever needs something, he'd rather have the materials and tools on hand. This is just… equipment to help him build stuff for Menagerie."
"Speaking of," Slinger cut in, folding his arms, eyes fixed on the silent facility. "What's taking them so long?"
"Sam needed Smithy to help make something," Ilia said.
"Sam needed help?" Claire blinked. "Sam?"
"It was big enough that he needed an extra pair of hands."
"Why would he need something that big?" Slinger pressed.
"He said it was… 'farm equipment'."
Before anyone could ask more, Wolf's voice rang out from inside the facility.
"Smithy! What the hell are those things!?"
"I just followed Sam's instructions like you told me to!" the lion faunus roared back. "How was I supposed to know it all fit together like that?!"
A sudden shockwave rattled the van, the ground humming as if something enormous had powered up.
"HAHAHAHAHA! THE FAUX-NUS… THEY'RE… ALIIIIIVE!" Sam's laughter thundered out of the building.
Heavy groaning, like steel beasts awakening, echoed from within. Blue arctic light flared from the cracks in the walls and then metal titans stepped into the world.
Concrete and rebar split and burst from the seams as they forced their way free and the squad froze, breathless, as shadows swallowed them, massive silhouettes towering above them.
"…Those," Whisper finally whispered with her eyes wide open, "do not look like farm equipment."
Spoiler: The 'Farm Equipment'
Just a somewhat short chapter followup since the last one got a little lengthy.
Thank you for reading!Last edited: Aug 29, 2025 Like Quote ReplyReport Reactions:Callidus, Rhaid, Darkstep and 1,166 others
Chapter 9: Reading the Signs
Hours later after the shockwave—
Chieftain Ghira Belladonna was deep in thought as he walked the bare earthen streets of Kuo Kuana, the late sun bleeding amber as it sank toward the horizon. So deep in thought, in fact, that he didn't notice the small Wolf Faunus barreling toward him until the boy bumped into his leg.
"Oof! Oh! Chief Belladonna, sorry!"
"No, no, it's my fault." Ghira's gravelly voice softened as he crouched slightly, placing a steady hand on the boy's shoulder as he got up. "You're… Jacob, correct?"
He may have been buried under the endless duties of running the largest settlement in Menagerie but he never let that keep him from knowing his people and keeping his ear to the ground, especially when it came to a certain shark faunus. Through the watchful eyes of the Menagerie Guard, whispers always found their way to him.
"Yes, Chief Belladonna!" the boy squeaked as his tail stood on end.
"You can just call me Ghira, young man."
"Okay… Mr. Ghira."
"…Close enough." A rumble of amusement left him. "Tell me, what has you running so quickly today?"
Jacob's tail swished as he gestured toward the two other children lingering behind him, both bowing nervously.
"Well… I was trying to get some more help from the other kids, sir."
Ghira arched a brow. "Help with what?"
"The chickens, sir." Jacob's expression turned grave for someone so small. "They got a bit rowdy after Lord Sam turned into the sun, just like the stories say!" He leaned closer, whispering as if it were a dangerous secret. "I think Bok was really upset that he wasn't called to help."
Ghira had to suppress the chuckle rumbling in his chest. "I… see."
Jacob continued, earnest and bright-eyed. "It really doesn't help that they multiply so fast. So I promised the other kids I'd ask Lord Sam to give them eggs and chickens too if they helped me feed them and stuff!"
The great chieftain of Menagerie—who had faced councils, Grimm, and rebellions alike—could only smile at that. "Well then, I have no doubt he'll be generous with you. Good luck, Jacob."
"Thank you, Mr. Ghira! Edward, Bella, come on!" the boy called as the three darted away.
Ghira straightened, watching their small backs disappear. His smile lingered as he turned to take in the city around him.
Even as the shadows stretched long, the faunus of Kuo Kuana remained in the streets. They talked, they prayed, some clapped shoulders and sang half-remembered songs. Lanterns were lit early, and voices rose bright—Menagerie had not felt this alive in years.
And it was all because of one faunus.
Never would Ghira have imagined that the human he once tried to shield from Sienna's wrath would become something more than a guest.
In just a handful of days, Sam had cleared the Beowolf horde that choked their hunting grounds, felled the Sobek so their fishermen could return to the sea, brought in a bounty large enough for a feast that would be remembered for generations. And now—judging from the dazzling light that had swept across the desert earlier that day—he had stood victorious against Sunpiercer as well.
Ghira's throat tightened. He clasped his hands together, ready to offer a quick prayer that he might live to see where this path would lead…
Bzzzt.
His pocket vibrated. Ghira blinked and pulled out his Scroll, expecting Khali. But when he glanced at the screen, his brow furrowed.
It was Captain Wolf.
Wolf knew better than to call him without warning if she was in the city proper. And she would never risk a direct call from the desert since the signal there was always too faint. Even short messages and blurry pictures sometimes took hours, sometimes days, to crawl through Menagerie's fragile network.
For her to be calling him now… something had changed.
Ghira's eyes narrowed, a curious weight stirring in his gut as he accepted the call.
The Scroll flickered to life, and the blonde captain's face filled the screen. She smiled, casual as ever. "Good to see you again, Chief Ghira."
"Captain. It's good to see you too." His brow furrowed. "Though why bother with a call if you're already in the city? You know you're always welcome in my home."
Her eyes widened slightly as realization dawned. "Oh! No, Chief. I'm not in Kuo Kuana." She grinned. "I'm still in Oka Waiwai."
Ghira blinked. For a moment he thought he'd misheard. "…Impossible."
Then the noise hit him. Around him, pockets began to chime and vibrate. Scrolls lit up across the street. He turned and saw Faunus staring down in disbelief, gasping, crying, laughing as long-lost voices reached them for the first time in years with mothers clutching their mouths or children squealing at the sound of a father's greeting from another village.
The chief's throat tightened.
"I thought the same," Wolf continued, "until Smithy managed to link us to the relay using the Tallnecks."
"Tall…necks?" Ghira repeated, confusion heavy in his tone.
"You'll understand better if I show you."
A sharp ding announced a file transfer. Ghira tapped the notification, and an image unfurled across the screen.
He froze.
The creature in the picture was unlike anything he'd ever seen, gleaming steel plates stretched upward in the shape of some impossibly tall beast, its unique flat head crowned with arrays of antennae and lenses like a walking tower. It was alien, and yet strangely majestic. True to its name, it carried itself with a posture as tall and regal as a giraffe.
And then more pictures came of beasts wrought in metal and blue light, shaped like the animals of old Faunus tales, standing sentinel beneath Menagerie's burning skies.
Wolf chuckled. "I'll give you one guess who made them."
Ghira's lips parted, and he whispered the name like a prayer. "…Samuel."
"He calls them the 'Faux-nus'," she said with amusement. "Remind you of anything?"
Ghira stiffened as a line from the oldest hymns escaped his memory, unbidden.
"And when They surrendered themselves, They leapt into the Shallow Sea, His deep embrace. Then by His hands They were remade, in His image, to walk the world anew."
His heart hammered and his breath trembled.
"I'm guessing he found what he needed at the facility?" Ghira asked hoarsely.
"That and more…" Wolf turned her Scroll, the camera angling past her shoulder.
Ghira's eyes widened as his breath hitched.
A crystal-blue oasis stretched where there was once only blight and monsters had festered. The pool, once blackened by Grimm corruption, now shimmered with life. Sunlight danced across the water, reflecting green shoots of grass that clawed free from the once-dead soil.
He tried to stifle it, but the sob broke free. His chest ached with relief. "He… purified it…"
The Grimm Pool of Oka Waiwai. Ghira had known of it, every chieftain had. A loosely guarded secret hidden from the general public to avoid the outbreak of despair. For a while it had poisoned the land and people alike, and though he had given for aid, his hands had been bound by politics, by resources, by woe. And yet Sam… Sam had done it and more, in a handful of days.
When Ghira had told him of the facility days ago, he had only dared hope for a solution to their food shortage. Perhaps some way to have grain to ease the famine throughout the island. Never had he imagined this kind of development.
Wolf's voice broke through his reverie. "So, how much do I owe you for that bet we had?"
"Forget the blasted bet!" Ghira snapped, his composure unraveling. "Where is he?"
Her lips curved into an amused smile, delighted at seeing the great chief giddy as a child. "Relax~ He's resting. You should have seen him, he practically fell asleep on his feet once we reached the village and I practically had to hold the villagers back from swarming him too. I can't even blame them though with all that's happened." Her tone softened. "Besides… there's still that final ceremony, isn't there? I wasn't raised in Menagerie, so I only know the pieces I've heard from you."
Ghira's face darkened. The ceremony. Yes. That had weighed on him all afternoon. The reminder tugged at the corner of his mind like an approaching storm.
"Anyway," Wolf continued, her grin returning, "I've already sent word to the other villages and outposts about this development. If we all work together…Ghira… we're looking at a Grimm-free Menagerie in a month or two."
His knees buckled while he did all he could to stumble to a nearby bench, lowering himself before he could collapse.
A month or two…
For generations, since the first Faunus had set foot on this island, the Grimm had hounded them—tearing at their farms, poisoning their waters, and battering their spirits. It was a fruitless struggle older than he was alive.
And now? To hear that they will finally be rid of them?
He pressed a hand to his mouth, fighting the wave of tears that burned his eyes.
"In the meantime," Wolf said, softer again, "he's asked to remain here for two more days. Said he wanted to train his abilities, fine-tune the equipment for the pools and the Faux-nus before leaving them to be put to work. That'll put him on the sixth day of that weeklong bet he has with Khan."
"I… I see." His voice cracked as he continued to wrestle his emotions back into order. "Please… help him as much as you can."
"Already planning on it, Chief." Wolf smirked. "And one more thing. I sent a runner with a detailed written report since I know how much you prefer paper in hand. She should be reaching you at any moment."
"Th-thank you, Captain."
"No. Thank you, Ghira." Her voice softened with warmth, her smile genuine. Then the line was cut.
He drew in a shuddering breath and dabbed quickly at his eyes. It would do him no favors to be seen in such a state no matter how miraculous the times had become. A leader shouldn't appear fragile after all.
The sound of gasps and murmurs rippled through the square, pulling his attention. Ghira turned, blinking at the sight that approached.
"Chief Belladonna!" came the call.
It was Ilia Amitola, perched atop something that seemed torn from another world. She sat with practiced ease upon a sleek, alien beast of steel and wire—the Faux-nus, Samuel Gatsby's newest creation. Its silhouette evoked a horse, yet its long, powerful legs and jointed frame carried an otherworldly grace, reminiscent of the "Tallnecks" he had seen in his call with Wolf. The machine let out a metallic whinny that startled some of the children at the front of the crowd.
Ilia dismounted with her usual, careful movements with one hand clutching a bundle tied behind her back. Ghira rose from his bench as she drew closer, and the gathered civilians pressed in, whispers and speculation stirring the air.
"Ilia, please," Ghira greeted her warmly, spreading his arms wide. "You can call me Ghira. You are practically my niece."
"S-sorry. Force of habit," she replied with a nervous chuckle, flushing at the sudden attention. Even now, grown into a young woman and one of Menagerie's most capable operatives, she still carried the shy awkwardness of the chameleon who once hid behind her louder or more confident friends, Whisper and Blake.
Ghira spared her the burden of lingering silence. "So this is one of the 'Faux-nus' Captain Wolf told me about? The ones Samuel built?"
At the mention of the shark faunus' name, the crowd stirred again—curiosity, awe, and a trace of disbelief threading through the whispers.
"That's right! He called these ones 'Striders'." Ilia brightened as she patted the construct on the head as relief cut through her nerves. "And that means Smithy managed to do his thing! That's so good to hear!" Her voice carried a rare spark of joy before she caught herself. "Oh! Before I forget, the captain asked me to deliver this to you. Her detailed report."
She extended the ribbon-bound bundle of papers. Ghira received it with careful hands, weighing not only the pages but the meaning they represented.
"If you'll excuse me, uncle, I need to report to High Leader Sienna."
"Of course. Be safe, and thank you, Ilia."
With a respectful nod, she clicked her tongue, and the mechanical steed obeyed instantly. The Faux-nus let out another soft whinny of gears before trotting forward, Ilia guiding it toward the upper terraces.
Children ran to follow, their laughter chasing after the mechanical creature, while the adults lingered in hushed awe. Ghira watched them all, watched her, until they vanished into the street.
His heart swelled as Menagerie's future was no longer a dream. After all, one of his creations was walking before his very eyes.
Blake on the other hand, had been lucky to catch Ilia before her patrol, and luckier still to drag her into headquarters rather than continue her rather exciting patrol duty. Though seeing her best friend arrive astride that alien machine had nearly stopped her heart. She had managed to push through it with a hug, a rushed explanation, and now here they were.
There she sat rooted in awe as Ilia finished her report. Her friend stood at the base of the raised platform of Sienna's throne, her posture was stiff and her voice was steady even towards the end.
"After I said my farewells he then gave me this 'Strider'," She gestured to the mechanical construct as she petted its metal head, the Strider itself beating at the action. "One of the many 'Faux-nus' that he built."
Blake almost couldn't believe it herself if she hadn't seen how Sam had handled himself on that beach just a few days ago. The tale had unfolded like something from her parents' old bedtime stories with heroes fighting monsters, saving lives, and reshaping the very land itself. Except this wasn't a fairy tale. This was real.
Her eyes flicked to Sienna, still seated in her throne, head bowed slightly in thought, unreadable. Beside her, Adam Taurus stood like a coiled spring. Blake could see the twitch in his jaw and the way his fingers drummed against his blade's hilt. He was barely holding himself together.
Finally, Sienna spoke, "I'm not only pleased to hear that you have returned unharmed but to also return with a victory for faunus-kind." She announced. "Exeptional work, Ilia Amitola."
Adam also spoke, her voice even and dangerous. "This… Clentaminator you present to the High Leader…"
Blake's gaze shifted to the device laid out reverently on a cloth at the bottom of the stairs. According to Ilia, it was a working prototype that she had asked from Sam, seeing as he had improved on the design and had relinquished it.
She still couldn't believe it existed.
A weapon that could "purify" Grimm pools, turning them into crystal-clear water? To her, it sounded like something dreamt by desperate children, not built by human hands.
"...You've seen it in action?" Adam's eyes sharpened.
Ilia straightened. "With my own eyes. With a single press of the trigger, the entire oasis re-emerged. Just like that."
"And have you tested this water?"
Ilia hesitated. "The people of Oka Waiwai were bathing in it with no side effects."
"You didn't answer the question, Agent," Adam cut in, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips.
Ilia faltered. "W—Well. No…but—"
"So you didn't test it. Which implies those civilians are exposing themselves to potentially hazardous waste." His voice dripped venom.
"No! I mean the—"
"Especially when you admit this 'Green Solution' is made from Grimm fluid itself." Adam stepped down the stairs toward her, each step deliberate. "It's a scam. An elaborate trick."
"It's not!" Ilia's voice cracked as she flinched under his approach.
"Speaking of that fraud—" Adam's voice rose, turning toward the High Leader. "—have you even seen him deal the final blow against Sunpiercer?"
"N-No… but that's because it ate me! I couldn't see anything from inside a stomach, Taurus!"
"And that speaks of your incompetence," Adam spat.
Blake shot up, her ears folded back, unamused by the tone he had taken against her friend. "Adam! Enough. I vouch for Ilia's skill. I've fought beside her and I don't doubt her for a second."
Adam rounded on her, his eyes narrowing to slits. "Blake. Really? Have you gone soft? Do you believe all of this?"
She opened her mouth, anger boiling, but he cut her off with a bark of laughter.
"It doesn't matter anyway. Brothers! Sisters!" His voice thundered through the chamber, arms spread wide. "This is a fabrication! An llusion! Not one of you saw him fight. Not one! Who's to say he was alone? Perhaps his human allies already wait on Menagerie, striking Grimm from the shadows while he pretends to be some savior. That explosion in the desert?" He sneered. "Lights and bombs. Smoke and mirrors!"
Murmurs rippled again, some doubtful, others shaken. Blake's claws bit into her palms.
Sienna leaned back on her throne, her ears flicking lazily against the marble. "You raise a point, Taurus. Then what can you say about his abilities that are… unusual. There are too many for a single Semblance."
Adam's gaze snapped to her. "Everything that the humans touch, they experiment, they turn into shit. That their experiments now reach the soul itself should terrify you."
"And that thing—" Adam spat, retching as he unsheathed his blade with a hiss of steel, the crimson edge glinting in the chamber light. He leveled it at the Strider, who stood utterly still, its head slightly tilted as though studying him. "How can you all be impressed by something cobbled together from S.D.C. crap? The same bastards who worked us to death in their mines? Who broke our backs and laughed at us?"
The venom in his words made several Faunus bristle. He stalked closer, boots ringing on the stone floor, and the nearer he got to Ilia, the more her body stiffened.
Blake's sharp eyes caught it first, the way the construct's head twitched at Ilia's unease. The calm azure glow of its lenses turned orange, then burned into a menacing, blood-red glare.
Sienna's mouth had even opened to warn him… but it was a second too late.
The Strider turned on a dime and reared with a shrill, metallic neigh, its hind legs snapping up with hydraulic force. The kick landed square against Adam's chest.
The crack of impact drowned out every gasp. Adam's aura shattered in a burst of light as his body slammed into the wall, leaving a spiderweb of cracks before he slid down, groaning, and hit the floor in a heap.
For a heartbeat, the chamber was silent.
Then—
Blake nearly choked on the laugh threatening to escape her throat. What was it with Sam's stuff and Adam? First, it was his chicken. Now it was his horse.
Sienna pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed heavily, though her tail flicked with amusement. "Amitola, please control that thing… and someone peel Adam off the floor and get him to the infirmary."
"I—I'm sorry!" Ilia stammered, springing to her feet and waving her hands at the machine like she could scold it into obedience. "I didn't know it would do that! Why did you even do that?!"
Blake smiled despite herself. Hearing Ilia scold a steel horse as if it could understand was absurdly endearing but her smile faltered into shock when a familiar voice crackled to life from the construct. Its mechanical throatbox grinding before settling into Sam's unmistakable drawl.
"Hey there, bud," it rasped, casual as if speaking over tea instead of through a machine. "I know you're probably dumb as rocks for now, but I need you to listen up. I need you to protect her. Ilia—she means a lot to me. I made your legs run faster than a motorbike, sooo… just kick the shit out of anything that looks at her funny, mmkay?"
The voice cut off. The chamber was dead quiet again except for Ilia, whose entire face had turned the color of fresh salmon, the blush crawling all the way down to her legs.
Blake felt her chest tighten, a soft twinge pulling at her heart. Even with Sam miles away, his warmth somehow bled into the room through his inventions. It was the sort of warmth she realized she'd been missing for weeks.
Ilia, still red to her ears, lowered her gaze and mumbled, so faintly only Blake's sharp Faunus ears caught it.
"…Dummy. I can take care of myself…" But the ghost of a smile curved her lips all the same.
A low, amused chuckle broke the chamber's silence. "Ahhh, young love. To see it bloom before our eyes is truly a sight, isn't it, brother?"
"Too true."
The crowd parted instinctively, like water before a blade, as two hooded figures strode forward. One bore the twitching points of fox ears, the other the sway of a fox's tail.
"Administrators Corsac and Fennec," Sienna breathed, her composure fraying just enough for Blake to hear the sharp edge of unease in her tone. "I… I thought you had left the city already."
Advisors to the High Leader, there had always been one or two since the White Fang's founding. But unlike generals or strategists of Menagerie, the Albain brothers were something else. Less political and more… spiritual. They guarded the Fang's other purpose to the Faunus.
Its faith.
Corsac's voice was smooth as polished stone. "We had. Until whispers reached us of a commotion… involving an agent atop some manner of construct." He gestured toward the Strider, still scanning the floor in arcs of soft blue light.
Fennec's eyes gleamed. "Remarkable. Even the reports from Atlas pale in comparison. This… this is something beyond their technology." He turned to Ilia, his smile gentle but disquieting. "May I?"
Ilia nodded, nervous, as the Administrator laid reverent hands upon the machine, stroking its surface as though it were some holy relic. The Strider did not react. Perhaps, at this point, it understood it was one.
Corsac circled the construct, fingers laced behind his back. "We have much to discuss, High Leader. Would you grant us… privacy?"
Sienna flicked a hand, and without a word the chamber emptied—civilians, guards, even courtiers filing out with uneasy haste.
Even Blake turned to leave, until the command stopped her.
"Not you, Ms. Belladonna. This concerns you as well."
She froze, brow furrowing as she glanced at Ilia, who only shrugged helplessly.
Corsac's gaze lingered on Ilia, his nostrils flaring slightly. "Your report omitted… certain details, Ms. Amitola. Details we could smell upon you the moment we entered."
Ilia flushed crimson, ducking her head.
"You've… eloped with the candidate, haven't you? Alongside another?"
"I knew I should've bathed…" Ilia muttered, mortified. Then, more firmly. "Y—Yes, Administrator Fennec. The other was… Whisper Wolf."
"Ahh, Captain Wolf's spirited sister." Corsac abandoned the Strider to stand beside his brother, lips curling faintly. "Our candidate aims high, doesn't he?"
Fennec chuckled, the sound warm but off.
"I—If I did something wrong… I don't regret it!" Ilia blurted, her voice breaking but resolved.
Both brothers only laughed softly.
"Wrong? No, child. You've done exceedingly well."
"Excellently, in fact."
Sienna leaned back against her throne, unimpressed. "I don't see how Ilia's relationship warrants such attention, Administrators."
"Of course you don't, High Leader," Fennec replied silkily.
"All brawn, no vision. As expected."
Their taunt earned only a scowl from Sienna's lips.
"If the candidate is who we believe him to be," Corsac continued, "then Ms. Amitola already holds his ear."
"Perhaps more," Fennec added with sly weight. "Even now, she might even be carrying the future of the Faunus within her. Imagine, a child blessed with even a fraction of their father's capabilities. The potential alone…"
Ilia squeaked, hands instinctively pressing to her belly, thoughts tumbling in panic.
"But," Corsac said smoothly, "his entanglement with the Wolf complicates matters. The Menagerie Guard maintains the Chieftain's trust. If the candidate favors them too greatly, the White Fang risks losing primacy."
"And the Fang," Fennec intoned reverently, "must always remain His instrument. The Founder's will incarnate."
Then both turned to Blake.
"This is where you come in, Ms. Belladonna."
Her ears twitched in irritation. "Excuse me? Are you implying—"
"We are," Corsac said without hesitation. "The candidate shows… interest in you. And if I recall, you've made a wager with him? Or was it the other way around?"
Her eyes widened. "H—How did you—"
The brothers only smiled, identical and inscrutable. "We have an approximate knowledge of many things, Ms. Belladonna. One does not become an Administrator by accident."
Fennec's gaze drifted toward the Adam-shaped crater in the chamber wall, his lip curling with faint disdain. "We are also aware of your current arrangement with… Taurus."
"Be that as it may," Corsac continued smoothly, his tone like silk draped over steel, "it is imperative that another of ours finds a place within the candidate's circle."
"It's merely a suggestion, after all," Fennec added with a smile so thin it seemed to leech the air of tension rather than soothe it.
"Quite. In the end, it's your choice, Ms. Belladonna. We aren't barbarians." Corsac's eyes shifted as he reached forward, gently clasping Ilia's hands in both of his. His words dripped with a politeness that somehow pressed down heavier than Sienna's authority. "Your service has been a great boon to the White Fang, Ms. Amitola. You are blessed."
"T-thank you, Admin Corsac…" Ilia murmured, bowing her head.
He inclined his own before gesturing lightly toward the chamber doors. "Now, if you would kindly allow us counsel with High Leader Sienna, it would be most delightful."
"Y—yes, of course. By your leave…" Ilia replied quickly, bowing once more. Blake mirrored her, though her ears twitched in irritation.
"Oh, before I forget—" one of the brothers called out, his tone mocking. "Good luck with the… inventory duty, Ms. Belladonna."
The cat Faunus bristled, huffing under her breath as she practically speed-walked out of the chamber. Ilia hurried after her, and the Strider with unbothered, mechanical hooves clanking against the floor simply… strode.
Once the heavy doors shut behind them, Ilia let out a long breath, shoulders sagging. "That was… something."
"It certainly was," Blake muttered, rubbing her temple before letting her frustration fade into a sigh. She glanced sideways at her friend and allowed a small, genuine smile. "Hey, want to hang out? Blow off some steam?"
"U-Uh, yeah, sure!" Ilia's face brightened, though she quickly deflated with a guilty look. "I'm…um…sorry about Adam, by the way."
"Don't worry, that wasn't your fault. He bounces back—somehow." Blake shrugged. Honestly, he'd been more of a headache than an ally these past few days. "Now… tell me that story Sam told you out in the desert."
Ilia blinked, startled. "W—wait, how did you know about that!?"
"You just told me." Blake's grin widened, feline and amused. She'd long known Ilia had her secrets kept loose on her sleeve. Funny, really—how a chameleon Faunus could be so transparent. It was one of the little quirks that made Ilia so lovable.
Ilia groaned, dragging her hands down her face. "Uuuugh… f-fine."
Blake chuckled softly. Maybe blowing off her duties for once wasn't the worst idea. Not when it gave her time to think… and someone she trusted to share those thoughts with.
The morning after—
I groaned as sunlight stabbed at my eyelids, dragging me back to the land of the living.
"He's waking up!" someone hissed outside my window before the shuffle of feet marked their hasty retreat.
Faunus were… a weird bunch. Must've been part of their culture—keeping watch over someone when they were most vulnerable, like in sleep. Odd, but… kind of sweet, actually.
"Good morning, Creator Samuel."
The voice came from my bedside. I cracked an eye, yawned, and turned my head. A golden orb hovered above the nightstand, projected from a spare Scroll Smithy had given me yesterday.
"Morning, GAIA. How are the constructs?"
The orb pulsed as the AI listed off the Faux-nus' status. I stretched, my spine popping like old wood under strain, while my mind drifted back to yesterday.
It had been fruitful. It had also almost killed me. If it weren't for Smithy, I'd have collapsed right there in the workshop.
Still… the haul was worth it. An entire abandoned facility with walls stuffed with scrap, dormant tech, and raw material. It was a Tinker's paradise.
And the results? GAIA and The Faux-nus. My own little ecosystem of miracles.
I wasn't shy about my inspirations either. Horizon Zero Dawn had been burned into my brain since I was a kid and as a college dropout the power of logistics made sense even to me. A build for sustainability, and not a one-shot glory. There were Imperial Knights, Titans even since they were also classed as farming equipment. Cool as hell, sure… but they'd drain resources in days of use.
This way, I got to have my cake and eat it too.
GAIA came first. She had to. An AI to run everything from direct terraforming, machine coordination, to problem-solving. Streamlined, yes. Missing her full suite of subordinate functions from the game, sure. My Tinker skill could only brute-force so much, and Sunpiercer had already bled me dry of energy.
Still, she was online and she worked. That was all that mattered.
The Faux-nus came next. Menagerie had been kind enough to house me, so the name felt right. Animal silhouettes of metal and wire, filled with Blaze-powered cores, a mix of ingenuity and utility. They weren't just imitations. The combat class machines were also tougher, sharper, deadlier than the ones in-game. Blaze for biofuel, Chillwater for coolant, all that jazz.
I cheated a little too, outsourcing their weapons to use Dust. It only made it easier, cleaner, and effective. And it still counted as "natural" in the eyes of the Tinker skill. Even the Stalker's cloaking features used a hodgepodge of solar light refraction tech and mirrors.
"Thanks for the report. How about your subordinate functions?" I asked as I rubbed the last of the sleep from my eyes.
"Subroutines Aether, Demeter, and Hephaestus are operational," GAIA replied in her even tone.
"Any others?"
"I am not aware of any others, Creator Samuel."
"Just checking. And the Cauldron AlphaOmega?"
"The construction efforts continue. Progress remains… painfully slow."
I sighed. Right. I'd converted the entire facility into a Cauldron, exactly like those glorious machine-forges from the game. The thermal reactor at its heart being rigged together from the mining drills the place already had. GAIA ran the show now, making Biofuel, Green, even Brown Solutions, and receiving the minerals from the Rock Breakers to be processed, etc. But the blueprints? The machine lineup? The original chemical compositions? All hand-built by yours truly.
And let me tell you that brute-forcing an entire catalog of machines when you can't code to save your life is exhausting. That's where Smithy had stepped in.
Now that I was fully awake with my bones cracked, joints popping, and muscles groaning in protest I picked GAIA's Scroll off the table and stepped outside.
The village was already alive with motion. Faunus bustled about, voices carrying through the air as tools clanged, children darted between legs, and smoke curled from cookfires while a Watcher or two patrolled the dusty streets.
"Lord Samuel!"
"Hm?" I turned just in time to see a long table spread with dried meats, fruits of every color, fresh vegetables, breads, and jars of jam gleaming like jewels in the morning light.
"Please, eat with us! You must be starving after going to bed without a single bite."
Before I could even muster a reply, one of the Faunus had already latched onto my wrist, tugging me insistently toward the feast.
Right on cue, my stomach growled a sound so loud it could've challenged a Beowolf's roar.
Heat crept up my neck as the villagers chuckled, their amusement friendly rather than mocking.
The moment I sat down, the world blurred into motion. Plates clattered, hands reached, and before I could blink, a mountain of food had been piled in front of me. Jerky, crisp lettuce, soft bread, tart fruits—it was starting to look less like a plate and more of a declaration.
But just like last time, every bite burst with flavor, simple but made with care.
I was halfway through a sandwich stacked with jerky and greens when a sharp voice cut through the chatter.
"Sammy!"
I barely had time to swallow before Whisper dropped onto the bench beside me, sliding into the seat like a blade slipping into its sheath.
"If you'd stayed asleep another minute, I would've broken your door down," she said, already building her own sandwich with military efficiency. Except hers… seemed to consist of more meat than bread.
"Do we need to hurry?" I asked, suddenly wary. The idea of Whisper in a rage was something I wasn't ready to imagine. If she could stand stone-faced before a horde of Terror Birds, what would she look like angry? Especially when I'd asked her to train me.
"Nah," she said around a mouthful of meat, smirking. "I can handle her… but you owe me one~." Her wink was quick, sharp, and way too confident.
I rolled my eyes, though the corner of my mouth betrayed me with a smile. "Alright, fine. What do you want?"
She tapped her chin thoughtfully, her wolf ears twitching on instinct as if sniffing out the answer. "Hmm… not sure yet."
"Just let me know then," I said, pushing my plate aside and standing.
"Lord Samuel, you can't leave without bathing. You're filthy!"
The declaration came from a voluptuous rabbit Faunus, and at her words, several more appeared as if summoned from the shadows. A chorus of volunteers, bright-eyed and far too eager, practically boxed me in.
"It's fine! I can do it myself this time." I tried to wave them off, but the more I resisted, the more enthusiastic they became.
A hand clamped down on my shoulder. Whisper leaned in close, her voice a low whisper in my ear.
"I think I know what you can do to repay me~."
A shiver zipped down my spine.
Before I could so much as protest, she was already dragging me off by the arm.
"C'mon, girls! I'll lead!"
The gaggle of Faunus fell in line instantly, their chatter rising like a tide as I was paraded through the village like some poor sacrificial lamb.
Shaking my head, I resigned myself. To be fair, their hospitality was… top-notch.
Not long after, I found myself seated at the edge of a steaming bath. Whisper's hands ruffled through my hair with practiced ease as her nails gently scraped against my scalp, working the lather in. The foam ran warm down my neck.
I sighed, long and deep, as the rest of the gaggle crowded around, chattering and splashing.
Welp. Today was going to be another long day.
A bit of home-brewed White Fang stuff and other stuff.
"Lend me a few creative liberties here, Monty. This is base shitty canon I'm up against!" Like Quote ReplyReport Reactions:Callidus, Rhaid, Eniotna and 1,090 others