In a world so grimly ravished by torment and violence such as this one, the need for righteous heroes and knights in shining armour is almost palpable. Fear and doubt clots the minds of those who aren't strong enough to stand up against their foes alone, so they look to the strength of others to protect them, almost desperately. The weight of burden grows the more heavier on the Huntsman or Huntress as time passes by, ironically, as they help more people or vanquish greater threats, for instead of encouraging the weak to fight for what they strive to protect, they grow more reliant on the strong to carry their burdens. A hero is strong, greatly so, but there can only be so much weight they can carry until they buckle. And once the mighty fall, it's only a matter of time until the weaker succumb to what they've failed to resolve themselves.

That being said, not everyone can be charged with the same virtue and ideals, or encourage the powerful to protect the Light that is civilization in their own meaningful way. Some, albeit few, have a more 'personal' mindset.

One that aims for them to just try to get by.

The thrum of the jet engines sent a steady rattle through the scuffed steel interior of the ship, accompanied by the faint, yet shrill sound of Dust-infused fuel combusting as it was pumped through the metallic veins of the VTOL by tanks that whirred incessantly. The sound alone seemed to prove the age of the antiquated Vesper-class scouting ship that the team of three individuals was currently piloting, its chassis and engines lightly touched by the tarnish of rust from over the years. The ship however was a tough little thing, and its age seemed to evaporate as it sleekly glided towards Beacon Tower, its rough-edge geometric design blurred by the contours of the night sky.
All around them it was a complete warzone. They hardly knew what had happened, but in what felt like less than an hour closed in the biggest horde of Grimm anyone on the ship had ever seen, mingled with Atlas' legions of soldiers and combat droids spraying concentrated laser fire, students and Huntsmen alike fighting the beasts whilst desperately trying to save themselves and the others around them, hundreds of scared civilians fleeing in all directions, and even what looked like White Fang members bringing the fight to whomever they came across. A conflict this big was something never before seen by the team, but they wouldn't stop to help. It was too late for that now.
The Vesper closed in on the roof of Beacon Tower, almost completely demolished by something-or someone as they fought atop it, decimated cement blocks peppered all over the surface, once-hidden rebar now exposed to the elements. A statue, for lack of a better word, of a colossal Grimm stood inert on one side of the tower, its beak frozen open in what must have been a harrowing screech. Grimm still seemed to flock towards the thing, thickening the air with blackened beasts and tarnished wings. They'd need to move fast.
A man leant against the wall inside of the ship, staring at his Scroll as it broadcasted a video feed supplied by a camera underneath the ship, surveying the chaos. The pale light of the screen reflected off of his thin, brown eyes, and gave his black, thick hair and stubble a gray-white glow. With a smooth gesture he closed and pocketed the device with a soft click, pushing away from the wall and flexing his fingers, occulted by brown gloves that creaked from the gesture. His look was determined and concentrated, fixated on details about the battle below, contemplating everything he'd seen.

"Wow. You auditioning for a thriller, Mr. Brood McSad?" came the hoarse, mood-clearing voice of a woman behind the controls of the ship, her green eyes reflected off of a dusty rear-view mirror above her, full of sarcasm as they stared at her companion through polished silver, a tiny crack the width of a hair snaking around the top right corner, just touching her neat, blonde eyebrows.
His serious expression immediately dropped and adopted a much more relaxed, now slightly annoyed look.

"I mean, the biggest battle that I've bloody seen is happening right below me, so pardon me if I seem a bit worried."

The mirrored eyes arched both eyebrows, possibly in amusement. "Worried, ha. If we were all worried we'd be getting our asses out of Beacon as fast as Dust hyperoxide would let us."

The man frowned. "Not for us, dumbarse. For the people down there." He stretched his arms upwards as he talked, shifting his grey buttoned jacket with the motion as a few clicks sounded from his spine. He pocketed his hands into his trousers, simple enough in design, tinged a mixture of blue and black. "There's a lot of fighters around, I know, but it's still not exactly happiness and rainbows. I saw that Pyrrah girl get shot when we were scouting ahead, right before that weird white flash happened."

"For the love of god don't give us your 'morals' speech again." Said the figure of a hunched man behind him, one hand palming his forehead and shifting bronze-yellow hair out of the way. "You do this every time we go on a job to steal shit when there's a fight going on to make us feel bad."

"That's is exactly what I do, yes." He replied, without looking back as he then proceeded to stretch his legs.

His team mate leant back into his seat and retracted his hand from his face as he stared at the back of the greyed jacket, revealing tired blue eyes as he scowled at him, his black and orange-lined jumpsuit reflecting the hazy interior lights, showing the subtle indentations of integrated armour. "Because that lets you sound good for the news just in case we get caught, like what happened with the Aritech warehouse when you started to talk about all of that bullshit about how you're doing this to help your friends and yada, yada. Saddest part was that the anchor kinda believed you."

A pause lingered for a few moments as Gray-Jacket kept still, still stretching. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He said matter-of-factly.

The bronze-haired man just blinked at him. "You're an asshole, Opal."

"Seconded." Replied the pilot, turning in her chair to reveal her form. Her blonde hair was kept in a neat bun angled to the right, keeping her sharp features clearly visible as they reflected the smugness of a few good insults that she had concocted internally. Her white top was already scuffed with oil and grease, pinning the age of the ship once again. She leant one arm on the border of the control panel in front of her, which was needlessly complicated, filled with diverse switches and buttons. She shifted to sit fully upright as she began to speak. "Y'know, if you weren't such a-" she cut herself off as her arm leaning on the border slipped, her elbow slamming on a button. A whir sounded from under their feet and the ship lurched gently as something fired out of the front cannon, compressed air hissing loudly as the projectile clacked across the roof of Beacon Tower, tumbling and scratching across cement.
"Oh, fuck." The woman said, quickly leaning forwards and staring out the cockpit.

Opal blinked at her, tilting his head. "Really?"

The man at the back snapped up from polishing a modern-looking rifle he had fished out of a nondescript backpack next to him, confused. "What? What happened?"

"Cherry's trying to get us spotted." Opal said with theatrical worry, muttering something about 'premature discharge' half-assedly as a following thought.

"You want to fly this fuckin' thing?" Cherry challenged as she stared back at Opal, her eyes filled with annoyance.

Opal sat down. "Oh no, the flying's fine. I think that it's the weapons that need the touch of someone not working the keys like an angry pianist."

Cherry shook her head, most probably entertaining thoughts of harm against him as she peered her head around Opal to the other team member, letting shadow hide part of her cheek as she leant. "Yo Snow, is the winch ready?"

"Let me check." He said, placing the rifle on the seat next to him and walking over to a console that flickered into life as he neared it, blue holographic keys floating in midair as ship diagnostics idly flashed on the screen. "Uh...yeah, it's good." He said, tapping a few keys. "Tell me when I need to lower it and it should do the rest."

The ship was now hovering directly over Beacon Tower, a few pieces of debris on the roof being whirled around and scattered by the jets as they approached.

Opal clasped his hands together. "Alright, let's get this petty theft a'running."

Cherry nodded and angled the nose of the ship towards the centre of the rooftop, causing the ship to slowly sway and then stabilize as the engines adjusted. Leaning over to the side, she turned on a screen hanging from the ceiling, covered in dust as most of the equipment inside of the ship was. A few moments after jabbing the 'on' switch, it flickered into life, displaying the view outside overlaid with a blue grid, a myriad of information and numbers floating around the screen as the ship's sensors starting doing their jobs. An oval-shaped object was suddenly marked on the display a few seconds later, changing from blue to green as new information warped around the mark. Cherry idly read the screen for a few moments, eyes flickering between numbers as her tongue worked at something stuck between her teeth. Hey eyes then lit up, and she leant away from the screen. "Nice! It's already loosened so we don't even have to shoot the shit out of the Tower."

Snow nodded. "Winch?"

"Hang on, I have to package it first." She trailed off of the last syllable, now idly hissing to herself as she aimed a cannon towards the marked object. "It was some sort of gem, right?" She asked as she flicked a couple of switches on the control panel.

"Something like that." Oval said, looking at his Scroll again. "Some sort of family heirloom that's been set inside a statue on the roof for years. Supposedly one of the first gems to have been cut by mankind, if you believe the stories. Makes you wonder why anyone hasn't tried to steal it yet."

"Out of respect for the person that the statue's dedicated to?" Snow offered.

Opal nodded. "Maybe. All respect seems to do nowadays is layer on the monetary value of things, though."

"Heh." Came the voice of Cherry.

"Oh, how quickly the morals fade once we start talking about 'valuable things'…" Snow said drily.

Opal laughed. "Hey, I haven't hurt anyone doing this. My conscience is clear."

"About as clear as Cherry's eyeliner…" He responded in a mutter, gaining a barked insult from the pilot and another laugh from Opal.

"Target locked." Piped Cherry a few moments later, going over the checklist for the Containment Cannon's firing procedure, or CC, in a desperate attempt to make it sound cooler. The last of the diagnostics loaded, and a green check symbol displayed on the screen."Ready to fire."

Opal gave a thumbs up that Cherry caught in the rear view mirror, nodding and pressing a button. A hiss of compressed air shot a black projectile from the front of the VTOL, sailing towards the center of the Tower and colliding with something with a loud clanging noise. She checked the display in front of her, squinting. "ID number...334. Yep, it's hit. Pull 'er up."

"Aye aye." Snow said, hitting a key on the winch controls. The sound of metal doors sliding open pulsed through the floor as a thick coil of cable slowly started to unwind itself, lowering towards the roof and the black box that was now sitting there. A few seconds of unspooling later, the plate on the end of the winch came into contact with the box, snapping together. The display on Snow's screen showed 'LOCK ACHIEVED'.

Snow smiled and hit the controls to pull the package up, making the cable shudder and spool the other way."Shit, for a while I almost thought we were going to run into probl-"

A large, loud problem slammed into the side of the ship, almost knocking Snow over as the ship tilted violently towards the side, toppling a few loose items inside. An animalistic screech echoed outside, accompanied by the faint flap of wings. Cherry immediately burst into action, orienting the Vesper towards the Grimm outside.

The Griffon let out another screech, circling around before diving towards the ship again, claws extended. Cherry pulled on a trigger right as the Griffon charged, releasing a staccato of deafening Gatling fire from a mounted cannon, making the cockpit vibrate. The Grimm dodged the first few rounds, but couldn't keep up as the stream of fire rose and connected with its wings. Within a few seconds the bullets ripped the entire right wing off of its body along with some chunks of flesh, making the Griffon sag as it started plummeting towards the body of the VTOL. It was already travelling too fast to be able to dodge it, and the corpse slammed into the ship, harder than the first time. The three were prepared this time, braced and firmly grabbing onto handles, ending up only being slightly jarred by the impact as it briefly resonated through the metal. The rifle next to Snow bounced off of the chair and crashed into the floor inelegantly, causing him to wince.

"Shit!" Cherry shouted, looking out of the cockpit. "The box detached itself!" Snow inspected the console and confirmed this, the cable now swaying from side to side with nothing affixed to the end.

Opal sucked in air. "Is it still on the roof?"

Cherry frowned as her eyes switched from the display to the outside view, looking for the box. She perked up. "Ah, thank fuck, it's there." She sighed in relief.

He nodded. "Go go go. Some Grimm aren't happy about the gunfire." Opal checked the cameras, revealing that a flock of around 6 Grimm were quickly approaching the ship, bound to attract more.

The ship lurched downwards suddenly as it was piloted towards the roof, the winch swinging about haphazardly.

Snow shouted at Cherry. "Ease up! I've got to lower the damn thing first."

"No time." She yelled back, sharply maneuvering towards the cargo box.

"She's right. We're boned if we get hit by a flock of those bastards. Work your magic, Cher."

The ship darted around erratically as Cherry attempted to swing the cable towards the box on the roof, missing by mere feet every swing, putting her increasingly on edge. Words of encouragement were cut short by more bodies slamming into the ship once again, making the retrieval task even more problematic.

"It's never goddamned easy isn't it?" Snow said in a huff as he grabbed the rifle on the floor and slammed a button on the back of the ship, slowly opening a large cargo door with the sound of gears grinding against one another. Crouching, he loaded the firearm and aimed down the sights, waiting for a clear shot.

Opal jogged towards the cockpit, still preoccupied with the approaching Grimm. So far 7 Griffons were harassing the Vesper, but the screeching and banging was doing a great job of getting the attention of others. Opal prayed to be spared the punishment of shitting himself if a Nevermore decided to join the party.
Throwing the Scroll onto a seat behind him, he clambered into the co-pilot seat as Cherry focused on her piloting with grim determination.
"Get me control of the minigun and I'll shoot down whatever you're pointed at. It's better than me just sitting here doing nothing." He said, fastening the harness built into the seat.

She flicked a switch to her left wordlessly, and a tactical display flickered and showed over Opal's side of the screen, the lights on the co-pilot's controls turning on. Opal nodded and grabbed them, breathing out slowly as he tried to line up a shot with the lime green reticule. Restricted by the ship's orientation he only managed to clip the legs of a Griffon that whirled by, muttering to himself as he looked around for any more Grimm.

Snow had gotten to work, shooting down whatever he saw in front of him with honed reflexes. Two magazines were already dumped on the floor along with the brass casings that were once inside of them. Two corpses were on the roof, the third Griffon having fell towards the ground out of Snow's view. He squeezed the trigger and let out a rapid burst of fire towards another Grimm as it swooped from above, but it ducked out of the way before any lead could strike it. It was only a matter of time until they figured out that the ship was a sitting duck from the sides, Snow thought, counting how many rounds he had left.

As fire streamed from both sides of the ship, more and more bodies were hitting the body of the Vesper, making it rock around violently as gunfire illuminated its grey plating and the bony faces of the Griffons that flew by. It was almost a good thing that the situation outside was as dire as it was-No one thought to pay the ship any attention, so far.

Despite the reinforced armour the ship was taking a heavy beating, the years had not been kind to its guts and plating could only be replaced so many times. Hazy warning lights started flashing on the control panel, which were ignored by Cherry to the extent of her abilities. Glancing at them, Opal swallowed as he managed to catch a Griffon in the chest with a burst of fire as he focused on the screen again, causing it to stagger mid-flight and spiral out of control, twirling and slamming into the side of the Tower as it fell.
A bead of sweat dripped from Cherry's forehead and landed on her lap, darkening an otherwise pristine set of red jeans, deathly silent. The only sounds were a torrent of gunfire booming in front of them, a hailstorm of assault rifle rounds from the rear, rattling screeches that gave the impression that they were about to be enveloped by a swarm of the monstrous birds, and the deep, bassy crashes of flesh against metal, threatening to buckle at any given moment.

Opal gave up on precision and started spraying lead at whatever he could get a shot at, if only to spook his foes. Snow was having a rough time too by the looks of things as Opal glanced at the mirror. He only had a few magazines left on him and they did not have the luxury of stopping to fish for more ammo in the storeboxes. The warning lights were now flashing faster, and a set of beeps were silenced by the fist of Cherry slamming into one of the modules under the control panel. Good thing she hit the right one. Opal thought.

Maybe this was a mistake. We thought it'd be easy to nab something under the chaos, but only went and got caught up in it. He zoned out for a moment. Maybe I should've stayed at S-

CRUNCH

"FUCKIN' GOT IT." Cherry screamed, half excited and half full of adrenaline as she fidgeted in her seat.

Opal leaned forwards. "BOOK IT!" He shouted to no one in particular, smiling as he pointed an index finger towards the horizon.

Snow almost fell out of the ship as it lurched back and started accelerating rapidly, wading over to the cargo door button and punching it shut.

Cherry dodged most of the Grimm on the maneuver out of the Tower, but one last Griffin crashed into the bottom of the ship with a deafening slam. This time Snow did fall, landing flat on his back and winding himself. Everything that used to be loosely placed was now on the floor or just anywhere that wasn't their original placement.

A few seconds passed, the stubborn Vesper speeding forwards at incredible speed, leaving Beacon Tower behind as a speck. Everyone took a moment to catch their breath. Cherry undid her hair, Opal unfastened his harness and Snow walked over near to the cockpit and sat down on the bench.

The silence was broken as Opal took a glance at Cherry, as they looked at their zombified faces they both started to smirk, until the two just burst out in laughter, Snow immediately joining as he tried to unload his gun.

"So." Opal said, calming down but still smiling. "That just happened."

Cherry sniffed. "Pretty sure I almost pissed myself when that last Griffon crashed into us."

"You two fuckers had no idea what it was like in the rear." Snow said, shaking his head. "One of them almost bit me!"

"Of course you'd know what it's like in the rear, Snow." Cherry said, leaning into the chair. They all laughed except for Snow, but he couldn't suppress the smile on his face either.

The three soaked the world in for a second, listening to the sound of wind whirling past metal, engines powered to full blast as they guzzled fuel. The sound was probably worse than when the Griffons tried to mount the ship, but it had this soothing and stable feel to it, like when a train hurtled across a straightaway.

Cherry spoke up. "Well. Let's see what this expensive bitch is all about." She stood up, stretching her neck.

Opal stood up as Snow walked over to the console, which flickered into life the same way it did before. "Yeah. Might as well since we almost became martyrs."

Opal raised an eyebrow. "To whom? Other thieves?"

"I'm sure someone loves us." Snow hit the 'unload' button. Luckily the ship automatically resumes processes when interrupted physically so the box got pulled into the holdonce the magnet was reattached, otherwise the cargo would've been ripped away by the wind.

"I love me." Cherry said as she raised a hand.

"Gross."

Cherry flipped Snow off.

Opal grabbed the box and rested it on top of Snow's rifle, who was sitting next to it. Cherry sat opposite them both with her legs resting on the two seats next to her, the dirt of her combat boots rubbing off on them.

"Damn, good thing these things are sturdy." He said. "Could've sworn that the grab dented it judging by the sound of the magnet connecting." He patted the side of it. ID: 333 it showed in hastily printed paint.

Cherry blinked at the box for a second and tilted her head, remembering the crunch. "Yeah, me too…"

Snow shrugged. "Hey, it means that at least all of our equipment isn't complete shit." He discreetly picked up the rifle from under the box and placed it on the next seat. "And with this we may even buy more shit that isn't shit!"

The other two watched somewhat excitedly as Snow undid the bolt on the crate, sliding the cover off slowly and ceremoniously. He reached into the box, and pulled something...unexpected from it.

A crown, or something resembling a crown, with an odd 'hooked' design without any decorative elements engraved into the metal. It looked like it as if it was fashioned out of bronze, with two teardrop-shaped emeralds fastened to chains-
The three went silent, all with widened eyes as they stared at the circlet.

"...Oh God." Cherry said, leaning back and bringing her hands to the back of her head.

"That's...not great." Snow agreed, nodding knowingly at what they've just done.

Opal sat there chewing his bottom lip as he stared at the circlet.

Cherry clicked her tongue as everyone looking blankly in random directions, Snow still holding the crown.

Opal leaned back, collecting his thoughts. "Well, there you have it." He gulped.

"We are now officially, the worst human beings alive."