IN BARON WE TRUST 🫡🫡🫡

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A/N: hey guys guess who's back with another Baron oneshot that's right it's me


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The Union really believed they had won.

It was quite a foolishly gross misinterpretation of their single accomplishment—if that was what one could even call it. Within his cell, Baron heard the perpetual sound of cheering and rejoicing of the Union's triumph over the Daybreak, all because they had managed to capture and imprison the Admiral. The soldiers standing sentry over the cell even gained such daft confidence to ridicule and mock their new prisoner, kicking and jeering at him as he sat dormant in his chains. Still, he kept his head bowed, his tongue held, and his hands limp.

Silence was the sliest warning, after all.

He had learned this priceless lesson from the proud tales spilling from the drunkenly rambling mouth of the last Admiral. In his intoxicated delusion, the former Admiral had convinced himself and a few naive scouts and cadets that his threats, no matter how empty, caused even the most steadfast and strong-willed soldiers to scurry off like frightened mice. But of course, his threats were as empty and trifling as his stories, and every Union soldier who fled from his presence did so through coincidence—just like the coincidence of his escape.

Neither the sharp danger of his sneering remarks nor the strength of his body and mind were the reasons for his freedom; it was an alignment of luck due to that Oligarch's attack on the Union's technology, including the prison. And he had not mentioned a single word of gratitude to her.

But Baron would earn his freedom with his own wit and strength.

As the dead of night fell over Yutir, Baron yanked his wrists out, breaking himself from his fetters. The remains of his chains dangled from his arms, but he deemed them suitable for packing extra weight into a punch. He gripped the bars of his cell before ripping a few of them from their place with ease and sliding through the space he had created. In the dark hall of the prison, his icy eyes glanced at the dingy cell he had been incarcerated in for a few days, now seeming like there was never a prisoner in the first place.

How pathetic of the Union to make his escape so easy.

The soles of his black boots stomped down on the cement floor as Baron nearly sauntered through the hallway; it was quite the challenge for him to contain his amusement when his arrest under the Union felt like nothing but a simple game he could easily win. Days of enduring those beatings hardly cracked his facade of shameful resignation, but rather only felt like a few light pokes and taps meant to irritate him until he snapped. Yet he kept his silence and patience for his own satisfaction.

The honor of resisting the temptation of expressing his rage until the time was right was one of great pride to the newest Admiral... and the best Admiral yet.

His escape into the outside world was rather easy, only following through a winding labyrinth of vacant halls before he reached a door. He walked upon a very familiar rooftop, the snow of Yutir's midnight falling upon the fur of his cloak and blanketing the hard stone surface in a cold layer of fluffy white snow. Every step crunched the snow beneath his foot, his heavy stamps pressing the snow into nothing but melted water under the friction of his boots. When he reached the edge of the roof, he looked out upon Yutir in the distance with a cold and resentful gaze.

It was a capital built of spiraling towers and glowing lights, built off of the fanciful dreams of those who wanted power and resources. The blinding green looked exactly like inuine, its poisoning glow straining Baron's eyes until he forced himself to look away. Despite the city being meant to be quiet in the middle of the night, cloned civilians trudged around like injured ants along the dirty streets, sweeping up litter and adjusting street lights with only a walkie-talkie as their defense against a Darkness creature or a foreign enemy. Every night and day those Daynian civilians would work themselves to death before they were damned in memory.

And the Union had the disgusting audacity to call the Daybreak the barbaric ones.

"Halt."

A crackling, muffled voice churned through a soldier's mask. Baron kept his chin raised to look down upon Yutir with a repulsed glare upon its gilded glory. His empty hand was stretched by his side, every flinch of a finger startling the soldier's gun to jerk straight for his vitals.

"Return to your cell, Daybreaker..." the solider commanded, but his voice lacked even the most basic necessity of courage. Instead, it trembled and wavered with a stutter as the gun quivered in his grip.

Baron tilted his head to the side and pierced his stare into the heart of the soldier. Within his icy blue eyes swam a single goal to achieve before his inevitable escape.

"I will not."

The soldier froze, paralyzed in his indecision and utter horror. Baron fought back a smirk; it was entertaining to see soldiers cower and shatter before him. "What shall you do then, Union soldier..?"

"I-I'm the one armed here, Daybreaker..!" The soldier cocked the gun again as a warning, but he should have taken Baron's even greater warning of his silence. Even so, he continued to assure himself, "I'm not afraid of you! I know what your kind is like! Your threats mean nothing!"

Baron turned back completely to the soldier and narrowed his stare upon him. Was he sorely mistaken...

"Then shoot."

He pulled back his finger, and—

CLINK!

The bullet ricocheted off of the red metal gleaming in the snowfall. It left a slight scratch on Baron's axe as it changed direction and zoomed back to the snow-coated floor. The soldier's terrified eyes darted down to the fallen bullet, but by the time he had looked back up—

SLASH!

His gun, severed in two, clattered onto the stone roof. The soldier's eyes met the Admiral's grizzled face, every muscle contorted to bear an abominable expression. From the way his razor-sharp teeth were exposed from a sneer to the pitiless void of ice that were his eyes, the soldier knew that he was staring at a face to be feared and dreaded... the face of Death itself.

CRACK!

The Admiral's large gloved hand squeezed at his throat tightly, hardly a second of hesitation taken before a harsh, sickening crunch echoed across the forest. The soldier's heaving ceased as his grip on Baron's arm weakened to light, frivolous clawing. Baron scoffed as he watched the color from his eyes slowly drained from a bright red to a dull gray.

"I will tell you this, and hopefully your Union will learn from seeing your corpse." Baron tossed his limp body to the ground before stomping on his chest. No gasp for breath could save the soldier now; the graying of his eyes brought along the desire for the release of death in a state of grave agony.

But just before Baron adhered to his wishes, he growled, "Unlike the last Admiral, I do not fool around."

He pressed his foot down into the soldier's chest until every single one of his ribs cracked to his satisfaction. He lifted his foot off of the Union soldier and kicked his corpse aside until he lay down face-deep into the thin snow. Baron huffed through his clenched teeth before looking up into the night sky, a silhouette of a helicopter approaching the rooftop. He rested his axe upon his shoulders, finally within reach of relief for his minor inconvenience.

"Hm. Took them long enough."

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