Mocha's Pixel wings beating with sharp, crystalline bursts of emerald-black light as she intercepted the unconscious awakened mere moments before gravity could carry him beyond her reach. Her fingers caught hold of the back of his jacket just as his limp body began tumbling uncontrollably once more.
The sudden shift in weight nearly sent both of them spiraling through the black sky, but she compensated instinctively, adjusting the angle of her wings until their descent stabilized into something far more manageable.
The reprieve lasted less than a heartbeat as a shrill screech ripped across the heavens. Instinct screamed louder than conscious thought and Mocha twisted violently to her right, dragging the unconscious man with her as something blurred past the space where they had occupied only an instant earlier.
A stinger.
Longer than a spear and glistening with venom, it sliced through empty air before disappearing alongside the enormous Lancer that had attempted to impale them. The Grimm overshot entirely, its wings buzzing furiously as it struggled to recover from the missed strike before banking into a wide turn for another pass.
Mocha barely spared it a glance for the unconscious man remained completely limp.
"Wake up..."
There wasn't time for gentleness.
Still, holding him steady with one arm, she reached across with her free hand and firmly pinched the thick muscle running between his shoulder and neck, digging her fingers directly into his trapezius.
Sharp immediate pain raced up the man's neck. The reaction came almost instantly and his body jerked violently.
A strangled gasp escaped his throat as his eyes snapped open, confusion replacing unconsciousness in an instant. His hands flailed reflexively before instinct returned and he stopped himself from accidentally striking the person supporting him. His breathing remained erratic for another second as he struggled to understand why he was suspended hundreds of meters above an endless crimson landscape.
Then, memory caught up. His gaze darted toward Mocha as realization settled over his features.
"...You saved me!"
There wasn't gratitude in his voice, not because he lacked it but because the situation simply remained far too dangerous to indulge in relief.
Mocha finally had an opportunity to properly examine him.
He was unmistakably of Vacuoan descent.
His skin carried the warm bronze tone common throughout Vacuo, weathered by countless days beneath harsh sunlight, while his irises possessed an unusual golden-yellow hue that seemed almost luminous against the crimson reflections surrounding them. Even despite the recent collision with the Nevermore, his eyes remained remarkably alert, immediately evaluating threats rather than succumbing to panic.
His gaze swept across the surrounding sky, taking in the Grimm and the falling awakened. His expression hardened.
"We have to grab the others, then find cover! Somewhere defensible and a position where we can actually hold them off."
Mocha offered no argument. She simply nodded. It was exactly what she had already intended. Her attention shifted toward him again.
"You have runes that can help us with that?"
"I do. Mechanism and Fortress."
There wasn't even a hint of hesitation. He tapped his own chest as a faint note of confidence entered his voice.
"We'll be able to defend ourselves for a little while."
Only then did his eyes properly focus on the wings supporting Mocha through the air. His expression shifted.
"...Are those pixels?"
Mocha nodded.
"Yes. I have the Pixel and Inventory runes."
"Really?"
His attention remained locked on the crystalline wings extending from her back.
"Are you limited to making wings or can you create other things as well?"
Even while flying through a battlefield, curiosity had somehow found room to exist. Mocha appreciated that.
"I can create other objects too. But not everything."
She banked left, narrowly weaving between two diving smaller nevermore. Another violent flap of her wings carried both of them beneath a circling Nevermore.
"Some constructions work and others don't. Not all of them are useful."
A volley of runic feathers flew themselves harmlessly into empty air behind them.
"I see..."
His expression grew thoughtful. Almost as though ideas had already begun forming within his mind.
Unfortunately, neither of them possessed the luxury to discuss rune applications any further. Mocha risked a glance behind them and the sight immediately tightened every muscle in her body.
The Nevermore carrying the Sleepless member from earlier had returned. Its enormous wings cut effortlessly through the black sky as it rapidly closed the distance between them.
Standing atop its back with unnerving balance remained the same masked Sleepless operative. He wasn't directing the Grimm—hell, he barely even appeared to move. Yet somehow...
The Nevermore continued pursuing them with frightening precision. The distance separating them continued shrinking.
Mocha's eyes immediately locked onto the other operatives fighting the creatures of grimm in mid air while still falling. She made her decision instantly.
Turning toward the Vacuoan awakened, she pointed toward the closer survivor. He followed the direction of her finger immediately.
"Can you grab that one? I'll head for the other guy, then I'll come back and pick both of you up."
She pointed farther into the distance.
He didn't question the plan.
"Understood."
Aura surged around him.
Unlike the elegant geometric construction of Mocha's Pixel Rune, his manifested creation assembled itself with heavy metallic precision.
Mechanical components materialized piece by piece around his shoulders before locking together with satisfying mechanical clicks. Steel framework extended outward, followed by armored plating, articulated joints, and finally enormous wings composed of sleek alloy. Mounted beneath each wing rested compact engines whose design reminded Mocha of miniature jet turbines.
Blue-white flames erupted from the thrusters and the wings hummed with contained power. Mocha couldn't help staring for a fraction of a second.
They looked futuristic and cool.
Almost identical to something she might expect a LUCID engineer to unveil after years of experimentation.
Was this operative a LUCID engineer of some sort?
It was entirely possible. If someone had shown her those wings inside one of LUCID's research facilities, she would never have questioned their origin.
Mechanism huh? The rune suited its name perfectly. The Vacuoan flexed the mechanical wings experimentally once before nodding toward her.
"I'm ready."
Mocha shifted her grip.
"Then go."
Without another word, the two of them kicked away from one another in midair. Their bodies shot apart in opposite directions, each accelerating toward a different falling awakened.
The timing proved almost perfect. Less than a second later, the Nevermore tore directly through the space they had occupied.
Its massive talons snapped shut on nothing. Its wings beat once with enough force to send turbulent currents spiraling through the surrounding air.
The Sleepless operative remained perfectly balanced atop its back throughout the maneuver, never once appearing concerned by the failed interception.
Mocha accelerated harder.
Behind her, the Nevermore slowed.
It hesitated.
For the briefest of moments, the Grimm simply hovered in place and its crimson eyes shifted toward the Vacuoan, then toward Mocha.
Unable to determine which fleeing awakened represented the greater priority. Even the Sleepless operative remained motionless during those precious seconds though a look of restless annoyance seemed to grace his posture. In any case, he allowed the Grimm to make its own decision.
The pause, insignificant though it seemed, granted both Mocha and the Vacuoan several invaluable moments.
Every powerful beat of Mocha's Pixel wings carried her farther from immediate danger and closer toward the wounded awakened she had chosen to rescue. The Vacuoan's mechanical engines roared as he streaked toward his own target with remarkable speed, leaving thin trails of shimmering exhaust across the crimson sky.
For perhaps three or four seconds, neither of them was pursued. Then the Nevermore decided and its massive head slowly turned—glowing eyes settling firmly upon Mocha.
Perhaps it was instinct
Or perhaps, the brilliantly shimmering geometric wings spreading from Mocha's back simply made her impossible to ignore.
Against the endless sea of crimson and black, her Pixel Rune shone with vibrant emerald light, every crystalline feather reflecting the strange illumination of the moon like a beacon suspended in the heavens.
Compared to the comparatively muted metallic wings of the Vacuoan operative, she was by far the more colorful target.
The Nevermore let out another deafening shriek and its wings folded inward.
Then, like a black arrow loosed from an enormous bow, both Grimm and rider hurled themselves after Mocha, rapidly erasing the precious distance she had only just managed to create.
Mocha ignored her pursuers and instead, she locked onto the lone figure descending ahead of her, rapidly closing the gap as Grimm wheeled and darted through the black heavens surrounding them.
As she approached, she was finally able to make out the man more clearly. Immediately, one observation presented itself.
He lacked the distinct oriental features common among native Mistralians. Likewise, his complexion wasn't the darker bronze complexion she had just seen on the Vacuoan operative. That narrowed things considerably.
Either he came from Vale or Atlas. Though, Menagerie remained another possibility.
That kingdom had become something of a cultural crossroads over the years. Plenty of awakened from Menagerie possessed appearances that didn't immediately resemble those of the four great kingdoms.
Mocha pushed the thought aside. Nationality could wait as survival came first. The man's current situation was somehow both absurd and incredibly impressive.
A massive Rank Zero Lancer buzzed wildly through the sky beneath him, its enormous wings beating frantically as it attempted to regain control of its own flight but embedded directly into the back of the Grimm's head sat an elegant javelin glowing with unmistakable runic energy.
The awakened had apparently driven the weapon clean through the creature's exoskeleton before somehow mounting the struggling Grimm like an unwilling horse.
The image was so bizarre that Mocha almost questioned whether she was seeing it correctly. Even while riding the furious Lancer, the man showed no signs of panic whatsoever.
Instead, he calmly continued fighting, befitting of a Rank 1 operative.
Every few seconds another gleaming javelin condensed within his hand before launching forward like a missile, streaking across the black sky with astonishing speed to intercept the surrounding flying Grimm. Some impaled nevermores, and others exploded directly through incoming Lancers before continuing onward until their momentum finally dissipated.
Definitely a Weapon Rune.
That much barely required thought.
The glowing aura surrounding every spear, combined with the impossible rate at which they materialized, left little room for alternative explanations.
Mocha cupped one hand beside her mouth, fighting against the roar of the wind.
"Take my hand!"
The man turned toward her and for the briefest instant his eyes moved over her crystalline wings, her posture, and even the rhythm of her flight.
It almost felt less like he was looking at her and more like he was evaluating her. Then, he shouted back.
"No need! Lead the way!"
Mocha blinked.
"...What?"
Before she could ask what he meant, the answer revealed itself. A grin crossed his face. Without the slightest hesitation, the man kicked away from the wildly thrashing Lancer.
For an instant he simply fell and then another javelin condensed directly beneath his boots. He landed perfectly atop the weapon as though stepping onto solid ground.
The javelin immediately accelerated.
Mocha watched, momentarily stunned, as he balanced effortlessly upon the narrow shaft, surfing through open air while the weapon itself carried him forward with impossible speed.
The image was ridiculous.
Yet somehow...
Incredibly cool.
For one utterly bizarre moment, Mocha found herself thinking he resembled one of the wizards from the fantasy novels she enjoyed reading.
Except instead of soaring across the sky atop a flying broom, he was surfing on a javelin.
"...Damn. Why didn't I think of that."
The words escaped her before she even realized she'd spoken them. She gave an unwilling glance at her flapping wings. Mocha shook herself from the distraction and immediately banked towards the rendezvous point.
Without needing another instruction, the javelin rider smoothly fell into formation behind her, effortlessly carving through the air atop his floating weapon as though he'd spent his entire life flying that way.
She herself, couldn't suppress a smile.
Yeah...
He was probably from Menagerie.
She had heard countless stories about awakened from Menagerie embracing creativity over convention, constantly discovering bizarre and wonderfully unconventional ways to utilize their runes.
This certainly fit that stereotype.
Unfortunately...
Their pursuers hadn't disappeared. A violent screech erupted behind them. Mocha instinctively twisted her head.
The Nevermore had caught up.
Only...
The Sleepless operative no longer remained atop its back. Instead, the masked figure had just launched himself directly from the Grimm with frightening precision.
Lightning exploded around his blade. Blue-white arcs danced violently along its edge before extending outward into the surrounding air.
He descended toward the javelin rider like a bolt of living electricity, sword raised high before unleashing a devastating slash empowered entirely by his Lightning Rune.
At the exact same moment, the Nevermore itself folded its wings. Rather than following its rider, the Grimm dove straight toward Mocha.
Perfect coordination.
The rider occupied one target and the Grimm killed the other. For one dangerous heartbeat, Mocha realized they had been completely divided.
The Nevermore she could handle, but what about the sleepless member? If this javelin rider was injured, things would become much more problematic.
However, he worries were unfounded.
The javelin rider raised both of his hands. His fingers spread apart exactly the way a stage magician might prepare to reveal some hidden trick.
Something metallic glinted between them.
Mocha frowned.
Toothpicks?
Tiny metal toothpicks?
Her confusion lasted less than a second. With one fluid flick of his wrist, the man threw every single one simultaneously.
The moment they left his fingers...
Reality changed. Each tiny sliver erupted outward, expanding at impossible speed until they transformed into enormous steel toothpicks!
Not merely large, but freight truck-sized. Each possessed enough mass to flatten a building, yet somehow retained every ounce of velocity they'd possessed while they had been ordinary toothpick sized.
Mocha's eyes widened.
Those weren't toothpicks. Those had been compressed javelins! The enormous weapons screamed through the air.
The Sleepless operative's eyes visibly widened behind his Grimm mask.
His lightning-infused blade lashed outward repeatedly, detonating against the incoming projectiles in explosive bursts of crackling electricity.
One...
Two...
Three...
He somehow managed to redirect the gigantic weapons away from himself through extraordinary skill alone.
The Nevermore, however, wasn't nearly so fortunate. The Grimm let out one startled squawk as three truck-sized javelins punched cleanly through its body almost simultaneously.
One obliterated its chest, another shattered an entire wing and the third tore through its neck before continuing onward into the endless sky beyond.
The enormous Grimm immediately lost all lift.
Its body convulsed violently before beginning an uncontrolled plunge toward the crimson earth below, disintegrating in mid air.
The Sleepless operative, now robbed of his mount, could only continue falling through the air under gravity's relentless pull.
Mocha stared.
"...Wow."
That wasn't merely impressive but terrifying. It was clear that what he had just shown was some sort of size manipulation rune.
It had to be.
There was no other explanation. Either the javelins themselves changed size, or he possessed another rune capable of altering physical dimensions.
Whichever answer proved correct...
The ability was unbelievably powerful.
The javelin rider merely flashed her another grin before accelerating forward again as though casually destroying an enormous flying Grimm required no further comment.
Mocha quickly caught up beside him and together, they raced toward the final rendezvous point. Below them, the Vacuoan operative had already reached the remaining awakened.
The four finally converged only moments before reaching the ground, their descents ending in coordinated landings across the crimson-white surface.
There was no opportunity to celebrate as the surrounding Grimm immediately surged toward them. Beowolves bounded across the scarlet plains and Boarbatusks charged from every direction. Several smaller Nevermores had also descended low enough to rake at them with razor-sharp talons.
The four awakened instantly formed a loose defensive circle.
Steel flashed and aura flared as runic energy was dispersed into the air. Javelins streaked outward like guided missiles.
For several frantic moments, they simply fought.
Cutting, dodging and advancing.
Holding.
Eventually the Vacuoan glanced toward Mocha and the javelin rider.
"Alright!"
His voice somehow carried over the sounds of battle. He pointed enthusiastically.
"Time to see what a heavily armored moving fortress can do! Pixel girl, if you can make some wheels and a few turrets on top, it'll be awesomesauce!"
Mocha couldn't help smiling despite everything.
Awesomesauce?
Really?
Perhaps if they got out of this situation alive, he might be interested in meeting up with Maurice and her little group of Occult research members.
His ridiculous enthusiasm proved strangely infectious. She could see that this guy might fit in well there.
Before she could answer however, his aura erupted.
The ground itself trembled. An immense metallic framework burst into existence before rapidly assembling piece by piece with deafening mechanical thunder.
Steel walls rose from nowhere and armored plating locked together. Gigantic reinforced supports anchored themselves into the crimson-white ground.
Towering battlements climbed skyward and massive defensive embrasures unfolded along every side.
Within seconds, a fortress stood before them.
Mansion-sized.
A colossal mobile stronghold constructed entirely from gleaming metal. Immediately, Mocha noticed several perfectly flat reinforced sections along its lower frame.
Exactly where wheels could be attached.
Higher up...
Circular defensive platforms clearly intended for mounted weaponry. He'd already designed the entire thing around further modifications.
All he needed...
Was someone capable of creating them. She flexed her fingers as emerald-black pixels immediately began dancing between them.
"Oh yeah! I can definitely work with this."
A delighted laugh escaped her lips despite the apocalypse unfolding around them.