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You did gymnastics back in the day, back in Haven. Even before your Semblance had fully developed, heights never scared you. Some strange part of you actually felt at peace in the air.

You used to race other students. Rope climbing was where you shined. You still remembered the cheers, the applause, your teammates calling your name. Percy’s smile lingered most of all. Shame you never talked to him much. You were shy back then, and he got transferred to Vale after some family emergency or something akin to that.

Still, reaching the top before anyone else had felt incredible. Some said your Semblance gave you an unfair edge, but they were wrong. You didn’t use it back then. You’d wanted to prove you could do it on your own. Honesty mattered to you. It still did.

Now, you didn’t have that luxury. You were forced to use flashes of your Semblance, your Aura sputtering in and out like a dying flame. You were pushing yourself to the brink. One hand clung to the rope, fingers fractured, throbbing with every pull, while the other kept Cerise’s limp body from dropping below.

It wasn’t impossible, but it was… painful. Painful and brutal. You’d learned to time it, using the lightened moments to climb, pausing when the weight returned. Efficient. Controlled. But the pain… every tug, every small jump felt like hot searing needles that traveled through your fingers towards your entire body. Contrary to what civilians liked to believe, Huntsmen weren’t immune to pain. We just endured it better.

Without Aura, though? You felt everything a normal human felt.

Maybe this was the first time you’d truly felt how broken bones, well… felt.

Finally, you reached the open doors of the floor above. You steadied yourself, timed your jump with a lightened pulse of your Semblance, and vaulted through. Cerise’s weight pressed against your shoulder as you landed. Good. Things were looking up.

A long hallway stretched ahead, same sterile walls, same dull light-blue panels. The color was starting to make your head throb.
You pressed on. No time to waste. Cerise’s wounds came first. Maybe this Nell she was looking for could help. Surely one of these scientists knew something about medicine, right?

You sprinted down the corridor, but barely a minute passed before you stopped cold.

It wasn’t a sound, but a smell.

Rot. Thick, wet, and putrid. The smell of decaying meat.

Flashbacks came. That fight with the man who twisted flesh and bone through his black liquid. Your skin prickled. Nausea climbed up your throat. Your eyes got watery. You still had regular nightmares about that day.

You turned a corner. A dozen guards sprawled across the floor, lifeless. Blood and bullet marks painted the walls, ceiling, everything. At the far end, an automated turret swept the corridor in slow, mechanical arcs.

The instant it caught sight of you, the barrel spun up. You ducked back around the corner, then came the stuttering bursts of fire.

But nothing hit.

You risked a glance. Smoke hissed from the turret’s barrel, jerking with every dry shot. Out of ammo, maybe. Either way, it wasn’t dangerous anymore. Good enough.

With your Aura still drained, caution mattered more than speed. You moved forward carefully, past the twitching machine. Fourteen guards, maybe more. All shot. All long dead. The rot thickened the air until it burned your throat. For how long does someone need to be in this state for the smell to get this bad?

You covered your nose with your only free hand and kept walking, Cerise’s body on your shoulder.

“She lived there with my mom. And now she’s dead.”

The voice came from behind you. A young boy’s voice.

You turned. Rocky cliffs loomed on both sides, the evening sky fading to violet and orange above. The city ahead clung to the stone walls, houses built into the rock, some hanging with crooked stairways connecting them.

A child stood in front of you, crying. His glare burned with anger. Why? You’d just saved his village.

You stepped toward him to calm him down, but his crying only grew harsher. He clenched his fists, trembling, eyes full of hate. The raw emotion made you reel back.

“Why did you have to do that? My sister’s dead. It’s all because of you!”

You followed his gaze. One of the hanging houses was gone, its shattered remains buried at the base of the cliff. Beneath the rubble was a Death Stalker, one of the larger scorpion variants of Grimm. This one was massive. You’d brought the rocks down on it, killed it with a landslide to save the town.

The village was safe. But the house had fallen with it.

“You killed my sister!”

You felt the feathers at the side of your head tremble. You turned again and saw the villagers gathered, staring at you. Fear in their eyes. Lave, your teammate, knelt beside the crying boy, holding him, whispering to him through her own tears. She always had a soft heart.

“She did her best. That beast would’ve killed us all.” a man muttered in the crowd.

“Yeah, but now the kid lost his sister. Where’s his mom? Don’t tell me she was up there too.”

“Don’t they teach Huntsmen to protect civilians first? That was reckless.”

“It was necessary.”

The words left your mouth before you realized it. The crowd fell silent.

“Lave. Let’s go. You’re on patrol tonight. We need to make sure no more Grimm attacks come.”

Lave’s tear-streaked face lifted to you, her purple eyes wide and red with emotion.

“Shelly?! What’s wrong with you?! We need to help this kid’s sister! Go, look for her!” Her voice cracked. The boy clung to her tighter, his face buried in her chest.

Didn’t she understand? The village was still in danger. Such a lousy team. Still, you weren’t a monster. You’d help her out since it appeared she wasn’t able to do so on her own.

“…Fine. I’ll take patrol tonight. You stay and help the kid. If you need me, call. I can use my Semblance to lighten up the rocks so that even you can lift them.”

The moment those words escaped your mouth, disgust followed. That wasn’t you. That wasn’t how it happened.

Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

You snapped back, blinking hard and breathing harder. The pale blue light returned. You were still in the hallway of corpses.

Cerise… Where was Cerise?!

She was there, back by the corner, still unconscious on the floor. You started moving towards her, but the stench hit again. Thick. Rancid. Stronger than before.

It was coming from your hands.

You froze. Rotten blood, pieces of bone and darkened meat clung to your fingers, dripping slowly. You looked down. One of the soldiers lay open before you, his chest torn wide, ribs cracked apart.

You were digging into him. Just now.

Your stomach twisted. The air spun. You were close to vomiting.

> Calm down. Take it slow. Maybe this is just the head injury. Focus on your breathing. Move deliberately. Whatever’s going on in these labs, you’ll find out soon enough.
> Run. Whatever this was, it could happen again. Your instincts felt in danger. Move fast, find a door, find a way out. Caution will only get you killed. Go as fast as possible.
> Fight back. This isn’t natural. A Grimm? A Semblance? Someone’s trying to twist your mind, dig into your past. You felt your rage surface. You won’t let them. Call them out. Make them regret it. Even this wounded you’re still a threat to anybody. You really wanted this.
>Other (Write in)

>>6317727
> Calm down. Take it slow. Maybe this is just the head injury. Focus on your breathing. Move deliberately. Whatever’s going on in these labs, you’ll find out soon enough.

>>6317727
>> Calm down. Take it slow. Maybe this is just the head injury. Focus on your breathing. Move deliberately. Whatever’s going on in these labs, you’ll find out soon enough.

>>6317727
>> Calm down. Take it slow. Maybe this is just the head injury. Focus on your breathing. Move deliberately. Whatever’s going on in these labs, you’ll find out soon enough.