Week 2: Darkened Depths

The criminal couldn't help but frown as he stepped out of the portal, his face tensing as he slipped into the next part of the dungeon. Sure, he hadn't exactly been smiling before he entering that blindingly bright light, but whatever thoughts of discontent Roman had were amplified the moment his foot hit the ground.

Really, why did it have to be caves?

Even before his eyes had adjusted to his surroundings, the crook recognized the stale air, stagnant and clammy as it clung to his senses with a terrible familiarity. Honestly, between the dampness, the backstabbing animals, and the constant chilling darkness, Roman had never really been a fan of cave systems. And that was before his criminal career; after changing his line of work, he had learned to appreciate tunnels a bit more, but he certainly didn't enjoy them, and adding White Fang mutts to the experience just made it that much uncomfortable.

Fortunately, he didn't have to worry about the White Fang with this particular cave system. Instead, the criminal had the unenviable task of dealing with whatever the dungeon thought was appropriate for cave monsters. Without missing a beat, the white-suited swindler stepped to the side, twisting his body away in one fluid motion, just in time to avoid some monstrous bat-thing's reckless charge.

Well, okay, he didn't exactly avoid it. As the small leathery creature dove at him, Roman brought his cane back behind his head, only to swing it back forward and downward a moment later, metal striking flesh with a wet impact and pitiful squeak as the bat creature careened into the cavern floor.

To the creature's credit, the bat recovered quickly, the tiny flaps of its leathery wings beating against the air as it fought to right itself up, before turning back to face the criminal with a pointed glare. And really, the man knew the monster was glaring at him, because Eyebat's singular eye was creased in unrestrained anger, its eyelid almost comically angled in a cartoon-ish frown.

That tone didn't last for long, however, and the creature's pupil flashed for a split-second. That little hint was more than enough for the criminal to quickly duck out of the way, his motions fueled by equal parts instinct and common sense, and moments later, a burst of energy shot forth from the winged eyeball. A ring of magical power flew through the air, leaving a trail of heat and sparks as it tore into the empty spot where the suited criminal had stood only moments ago.

But, unfortunately for the bat, Roman was no longer there. Instead, the criminal had slipped up beside the tiny yellow creature, his cane already flashing into motion as he drove the metallic bludgeon directly into creature's eye. A pained squeal rose up from the monster, but the crook ignored the cry as he brought his weapon forward again and again, each of his aura-fueled strikes deliberate and surgical as Roman quickly quelled the little irritant.

Just like that, as abruptly as it had begun, the little skirmish had ended, as the monster promptly exploded into a burst of gems, gore, and failure. Really, it had only lasted for a few seconds, and Roman couldn't help but be a bit smug as he saw the mysterious power crystals fly towards him. After all, he got to relieve a little bit of his stress, and the two Beacon Brats hadn't even arrived yet!

Oh, what do you know? The moment he had thought that, a flash of light erupted from the portal, and the two red-haired idiots stepped out of th-

Roman's eyes narrowed as he turned to the new arrival. Singular. It was almost comedic, the way the armoured Mistrali blinked her eyes in obvious confusion, evidently not expecting her new cave-like environments. Unfortunately for her, Torchwick was not really in the mood to waste time, and his next words were laced with irritation. "...Where the hell is Red?"

Blank green eyes turned to face him, the marshmallow mascot reacting more to his voice than his frown as he crossed his arms. Still, to her credit, those eyes weren't blank for all that long, and despite her lack of sight, the Mistrali champion wasted no time in quelling her disorientation as she settled into a cautious stance.

"What did you do, Torchwick?" Of course, what little credit she had earned quickly faded away as the brash little brat drew her weapon, her voice thick with hostility as she glared at him. Or, well, glared at his general direction.

"Oh, you know..." Roman's own tone was laced with sarcasm as he rolled his eyes, his hand casually waving at the scene around them. These gestures were more for his benefit than anything else though, since the little gladiator was still hilariously blind and hilariously defenseless. "I decided I didn't like the forest look that much, so I replaced everything with a freaking cave system. Why the hell do you think it's my fault?"

Pumpkin Pete froze at those words, but kept a firm grip on her spear as she tried to refocus on the criminal, her eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness around them. Eventually, the huntress-wannabe relaxed her stance, and finally sheathed her weapon when she realized that they were in a stupid cave.

"You know what? Never mind." Again, Roman rolled his eyes, though he was somewhat certain that she could see the gesture this time. "Just tell me where Red is. It's annoying enough trying to keep track of one lost brat in this place."

Cereal Box gave him another look, though this one was much less hostile than her previous ones. Rather, her face seem genuinely surprised by his words, and she stared at him in silence for a few moments longer. Only a few moments, though, since Roman quickly cleared his throat, returning her gaze with a deadpan stare.

"O-oh." The gladiator quickly caught herself, turning away from Roman as she glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes falling onto the portal exit that she stepped out of. "Ruby said that she wanted to check the Adventurer's Guild, just to be sure that Caillou wasn't there."

"Ugh... Why am I not surprised?" Torchwick sighed, unable to muster up much more of a response than that, a scowl forming on his face as he brought a hand upwards. He knew from experience he couldn't will a migraine away, but that didn't stop him from trying, and as the man slowly massaged his temple, he gave the Mistrali an annoyed stare. "Please tell me Red had more of a plan to go on than that."

"What do you mean?" The confused redhead turned back to face him, not quite sure what he was getting at.

Roman's migraine grew, and he held back the urge to throw something at the brat. "... I mean, did Red have some sort of plan in mind after finding out whether or not Caillou was back at the guild? We can't exactly use our scrolls, you know."

Her only response was silence.

"Seriously, don't they teach you brats anything at that stupid school?" Roman complained, making no effort to hide his mood as they stepped through the winding cavern's corridors. Well, corridor; lucky for them, this little cave was far more linear than the forested fields in the previous area, and keeping track of where they had been was far easier this time around. "You shouldn't need a fancy huntsman school to tell you how important fallback plans are."

"Gah!" With that said, Pumpkin Pete wasn't exactly in a position to respond.

It was clear to Roman that the students who attended Vale's deluded hero school were incompetent in more ways than one. While that would've been fine any other day of the week, today was not a day where he could afford that sort of negligence; for good or ill, he and Cereal Box had to cover eachother's back, and the girl's initial reaction to complete darkness did not instill him with confidence.

As a result, it fell to the magnanimous Roman Torchwick to teach this stupid brat how to properly carry herself, at least when it came to fighting blind. The rogue wasted no time in asserting this fact, and while the girl had initially protested his evaluation, it didn't take more than a few choice words—as well as a few low-flying pebbles—to get his point across. By the end of their discussion, Mistrali's touted champion was reduced to a front-line grunt for Vale's most wanted, and Roman enjoyed every moment of it. After all, he hated doing the heavy lifting.

"Oh, by the way, you're about to hit a wall."

"What?"

With a dull thud and the screech of an angry eyebat, Beacon's brightest star was knocked off her feet. Which was another perk of the job; it was just entertaining to see the normally-smug face of Mistral struggle against the most trivial of threats, especially since these sorts of things people picked up when they were a child. At least, he did. Heh. Not to mention the fact that he could disguise her laughable attempts as training, which only served to push his amusement further.

Still, with all that said and done, Roman couldn't fathom how the Pyrrha Nikos could be so bad. After all, she was the loudest huntress promoted by the most annoying advertising company this side of Vale, yet she was clearly fighting like a novice. Was it just because she had only fought in controlled arenas up until now? Or perhaps it was something related to the fact that her exhibition matches only involved people.

... No, that couldn't be it. She should've still had some experience with fighting grimm, and mindless magical bats weren't too different from your average hate-filled monstrosity. Besides, he'd seen those fancy Mistrali arenas as well as the next person, and non-standard conditions wasn't a foreign concept to those things. At least in the matches he'd witnessed, the Nikos brat never really had problems with fighting against people in pitch darkness.

Well, whatever it was, it didn't seem to bother her for too long. Despite her troubles early on, the red-haired huntress-wannabe was a fast learner, and it didn't take her too long to deal with this threat. Ultimately, the girl had defeated the floating eye-bat, and the tiny creature gave a final squeaky cry as it exploded into power crystals. The girl, for her part, didn't seem too winded, as she mentally took stock of her little brawl.

"Congratulations." Of course, this little 'victory' warranted a 'celebration'. The criminal wasted no time with his words, his tone exaggerated as he brought his gloved hands together, a dull clap sounding through the darkness as he practically sneered at her. "You've managed solve that little problem in... oh, I'd say two minutes. And you didn't even use your semblance, did you?"

"... Thank you."

"Wait, what?" Roman stopped, his previous expression falling away as he stared at the girl. And really, could you blame him? The criminal was good at reading people, and all of his experience told him that, despite his barbed tone and sarcastic words, the girl had been completely genuine in her response.

"I... appreciate the instruction you have given me." The Mistrali champion clarified herself. Her words were a bit stilted, but they still rang out all the same, and her green eyes fell on Roman's as she stared at the criminal. "Even if your tone was a bit sarcastic, you provided crucial information all the same, and I woul-"

"Okay, no. Stop right there." Roman was not having this, and his voice rose up well before she could finish her words. Sure, Red's misconceptions sorta made sense, since she was a naive brat who wanted to be a pointlessly stupid hero, but he knew that same couldn't be said of Pumpkin Pete. At the very least, she was smarter than that, wasn't she? "You and I both know that I'm doing this purely for my benefit."

"... You are?" Pyrrha's next words were a bit more muted, her eyes narrowing a bit as she stared at the criminal.

"Of course I am." And the criminal made no effort to hide it, as neither his inaudible body language nor his very-audible scoff did anything to refute her words. Did she honestly think that he was choosing to help her out from the goodness of his heart? "Who do you think benefits the most from you knowing how to fight in the dark?"

At those words, he stared at the girl, completely smug in his words. Sure, at first, that might sound like a stupid question, and one that immediately benefited Pyrrha rather than himself. After all, didn't he just teach her a new combat technique?

Of course not! He pointed out a critical flaw in her existing combat style, and forced herself to reconsider it. That, in turn, meant that any immediate conflict between them would have her distracted on that particular flaw, and that she'd try to account for it—subconsciously or otherwise. Not only that, but Roman's prior experience with fighting Huntsmen was more then enough to teach him how much trained fighters relied on their senses and reflexive impulses. Having a distracted mind—say one that's constantly trying to correct a known flaw—gives the criminal far more opportunity to exploit it.

To say nothing of the fact that he hadn't actually told her how to fix her problem. Then, if you factor in how well-known her fighting style is, compared to how little she knew of his own combat techniques, it was clear that he'd have a complete advantage in any sort of engagement between them. That's why Roman made no effort to hide his smug expression, and the criminal merely sent a knowing smile at the stupid little beacon brat.

"I see." The girl closed her eyes, nodding for a few moments as she took in a deep breath.

Good. The last thing he needed was another misunderstanding that-

"Thank you." Pumpkin Pete repeated herself, and Roman's eye twitched. She must've caught this gesture, as she gave him a slight smirk of her own, evidently coming to her own baseless conclusions as she stared at him. "I know that teaching me wouldn't benefit you in the slightest. After all, you could've just left me alone to die here, and escaped on your own."

"Of course not." Roman was very sincere about that point. And he didn't know why the girl seemed so surprised by his admission.

Was it really that hard of a concept to understand? It didn't take a genius to know that Red would've immediately suspected him if Cereal Box here died due to mysterious circumstances. And while he could've lied to the hooded brat, there was no guarantee he could've maintained it for the entire duration of his stay in this stupid world, since he didn't know how long he'd need to use Recette's store as a cover.

On the other hand, telling someone their fighting style is flawed without giving them any sort of direction is a great way to disrupt their training regiment in general. People doubt themselves all the time, and if they don't have access to proper resources that address their issues, they will make an uninformed mistake. Usually one they'll regret, if his experience is anything to go by.

"... I guess Ruby was right about you."

"How the hell do you figure that?" Roman was barely restrained in his words, his teeth clenched as he almost hissed the words. No, he was not having this. Teenagers were stupid, sure, but they weren't this stupid, were they? Fortunately, he still had one more card to play. It might've been a tad illogical for him to play it, since, by all accounts, this misunderstanding benefited him... But seriously, these brats with their stupid idealistic delusions made him sick.

So, without missing a beat, he spoke out once again, completely pushing away any doubts she might've had about his character. "You said it yourself that I caused the breach, right?"

And it did the trick.

At his words, Nikos fell silent, her eyes widening for a just a few moments as she realized what he had said. The world around them dimmed next, the air growing heavy at the change of tone, and only the faint shuffles of distant monsters broke the deafening quiet.

"You..." Until the girl's voice creaked out again. Unsteady this time, and far less sure of herself.

"Yes, me." Finally, he was getting through to her. Finally, this useless dialogue of verbal dancing could come to an end. She can get back to hating his guts, and he can get back to ignoring these brats properly. Honestly, the last thing he needed was another child misunderstanding him and building up false expectations. After all, look at what had happened with Caillou. "It was me, so why don't you take your idealistic tripe and-"

"You were forced to, weren't you?"

"... No. You know what? No. I'm done with this." And just like that, Roman stood up, straightened himself, and left.

This was dumb. Dumb and hilariously stupid, and Roman was sick of it all. Even the White Fang weren't this delusional, yet the two brats of Beacon seemed completely set on ignoring facts in favour of convoluted half-truths. Yes, sure, he was forced to do it, but what did that matter? Even if he hadn't been approached by Cinder, would he still have committed the Breach, and worked with White Fang terrorists for their pointless goals?

Okay, ignore the fact that the answer to that question was a no—He wasn't suicidal, after all.

Regardless, the point was, even if he hadn't been forced in this stupid situation with Cinder, Roman Torchwick was a criminal all the same. And more to the point, he was completely unrepentant of that fact, because it allowed him to live life the way it was meant to be. Being a criminal meant that he kept himself alive, by himself, for himself. It was a lesson he had learned a long time ago, and one that he held to heart. Nothing could change this fact.

No matter how many childish delusions you threw at it.

Their search through the dungeon was conducted in silence.

Part of the reason for this silence was because of how straightforward their search had been up to this point; since these caverns were mostly linear, searching through branching paths was a quick affair, and one that didn't require effort. More importantly, they were now on the tenth floor, and the moment they had entered, the two had found an important clue which greatly hastened their search: corpses.

Well, okay, corpses, and a distinct lack of monsters. Unlike the previous floors, the corpses here were mostly fresh, and the dungeon hadn't repopulated the fallen monsters. Roman wasn't quite sure about the exact science or mechanics behind monster population, but conventional adventurer wisdom attributed it to time. Which meant that they had caught up to someone. That in itself was worth being silent about, right? Right? ... Right.

Okay. No getting around it. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had actually happened, and hiding the fact would probably just get Neo on his case or something. The main reason for the awkward silence was because of how stupid Roman felt about his previous outburst.

Look, this is the third time he's saying it, but these caverns were linear. That meant that, even if he had stomped out in a fit of frustration—not saying he did—there was only really one way he could go. So, unsurprisingly, it didn't take long for Cereal Box to catch up. Fortunately, she had remained silent on the issue, which helped the crook forget about the entire thing, but it didn't change the fact that he had unceremoniously dropped the previous conversation, only to have the other participant of the conversation appear up moments later.

Honestly, it was a good thing that they were finally stumbling towards the end of their search.

And to accentuate this fact, the moment that thought entered his mind, a loud explosion echoed through the rocky tunnels. The distant sound of monstrous snarls immediately erupted after the echoing burst, before they were finally followed by angry cries of a very-childish voice. Whatever doubts the two might've had about their destination were quickly dashed, and Roman didn't bother giving the Mistrali a second glance.

Instead, he merely grunted once, before quickly breaking into a measured sprint, as he wove through the darkened passages with ease. Lithe footsteps followed behind him, informing the criminal of the huntress-in-training's presence as she cleanly matched his speed. With each step and bound, the two drew closer to the source of the noise, as quaking roars echoed alongside bursts of flame and the clashes of metal.

That... second one didn't make much sense. Didn't the brat use a wooden staff? Why exactly was there metal?

"Elan!"

Caillou's voice rose through the darkness, accompanied by another monstrous roar as metal clashed again with metal. This time, the sound of battle was far louder, and the two denizens of Remnant wasted no time in finding the source.

The tunnel spilled out into a large, rocky cavern, and within moments, Roman Torchwick and Pyrrha Nikos found themselves inside the spacious room. Stalagmites and stalactites dotted the edges of the cavernous hall, the rocky spires humming with ethereal lights that illuminated the entire cavern, bathing everything with an unnerving red glow.

But more important than the dungeon layout, however, was the dungeon denizen itself; at the other end of the room stood a gargantuan figure. Its back was turned towards them, but there was no doubting the beast's magical origins, as the creature released a terrible cry. The sound reverberated through the entire room, and loose rocks seemed to fall from the ceiling as it stomped around with heavy footfalls. By all accounts, the creature would've been worrying, were it not for one key fact that they couldn't ignore.

"Is..." Pumpkin Pete's voice rose up, partially from concern, but mostly from confusion as she stared at the creature. "Is that a giant rat? Wearing a sweater vest?"

Yep. By all accounts, the giant creature should've been terrifying. However, Roman simply couldn't ignore the absurdity of the beast; its rat tail swished around in the air, seemingly more for decoration than anything else, and there was no mistaking the creature's silhouette. From the shaped ears to the scraggly fur, from the monster's poofy scarf to the monster's poofy legs, the cartoon-ish existence of the creature quickly dispelled whatever tensions were built up by the room.

"Oi, kid! Please tell me you're not having troubles with this thing!" Seriously, Torchwick couldn't help but quip at the situation. After all, he had been worried about the brat, and yet instead of some dungeon horror, he was here struggling against some horrible reject of a cartoon mascot. Just what exactly was-

And then the rat turned around.

The beast released a terrible snarl, its cry resonating through the very air as the room trembled once again. The sound alone was enough to chill the criminal's blood, and he immediately quelled his initial mood. Sure, the massive, three-meter-long cleaver was definitely enough to give him pause, but that wasn't the main reason why Roman had stopped.

No. The reason why Roman had stopped was because he couldn't tear his eyes away from the rat, taking in the sight of its monstrous face as it focused back at them. Mottled black fur gradually bled into an ominous black, and one of its beady eyes bore at them with a frenzied stare. Yet, more chilling than that was the other eye, buried inside an abyss of darkness and layered beneath a malformed ivory mask. Less than half of the rat's face wore this mask, but neither denizens of Remnant could tear their gaze away from the mask.

How could they? To Roman Torchwick and Pyrrha Nikos, the bone-white plate and blood-red engravings were unmistakable.

Slowly, the two combatants gathered themselves, aura flaring as they gradually took in that dark visage. And, just as slow, that spark finally woke to their presence, the light in the monster's eyes gleaming with hate as it glared back at them with renewed vigor.