SAPR: Volume 2

[ScipioSmith]

True Mettle​

Now, isn't this interesting?

Cinder held up the object that she had discovered during her investigation of the forest around the site of the attack on Twilight Sparkle. It looked like a box, a metal box, painted in forest camouflage, all greens and browns and black lines in an asymmetrical riot that made it hard to spot amidst the undergrowth. It was about as large as a decently-sized box of teabags and with what might have looked like air-holes peppering the surface of the box.

Of course, Cinder recognised it as not just a box, but a sophisticated grimm lure from Atlas. If she were to crack it open – and she was strongly tempted to do just that – she would find a perfume-like store of pheromones waiting within, gradually being released out into the air to draw the grimm with the promise of humanity.

She had found three of these things so far, and alongside them, she had found, concealed with some degree of care, a large number of more primitive baits and lures, as if the student who had been assigned to distribute them up and down the path had dumped their entire load here to be done with it.

What elevated it out of sheer laziness, of course, was the presence of these Atlesian toys along with them.

Someone had wanted to draw in grimm and had gone to some effort to make sure that enough grimm were drawn in.

And Cinder felt that she had a fairly good idea of who that someone might be.

"Phoebe," she murmured as she crushed the lure-box she was holding in one hand, turning it into a crumpled pile of scrap metal within her clenched fist. "Phoebe, Phoebe, Phoebe. What am I going to do with you?"

It was all about that wretched sword, of course. Poor Phoebe, so long spent lusting after that black blade, only for the one who had denied her the sword to casually give it away, and to a faunus no less. Cinder cared little for Mistralian traditions, still less for the pride of the House of Nikos or the dignity of the House of Kommenos, but she would admit that it had pleased her to see Sunset strutting about with that ancient heirloom across her back, if only to imagine that apoplexy that must be choking Phoebe every moment that Sunset had the sword and she did not.

It seemed that she had underestimated the lengths to which Phoebe would go to get the sword. Trying to kill Sunset by stealth, well, that was hardly honourable, but then, the Mistralian honour was nothing more than a bad joke anyway, wasn't it? But risking all of the other students along with Sunset, just to claim an antique bauble from a bloody corpse? What a low, vile thing to do.

But then, Phoebe had always been a very low, vile person, hadn't she?

Please, Phoebe. Please. I'll be good, I swear.

Cinder closed her eyes, and her grip upon the ruined box in her hand grew tighter still as the metal groaned and squeaked as she crushed it.

Cinder could hear the crying in her head, the sobbing, the groans of pain as she-

Cinder's eyes snapped open, a wordless growl escaped her as her hand began to glow white hot, melting the twisted metal that she held in her grasp so that its molten fragments slipped through her fingers to land in dribbling lumps upon the soil before her.

Cinder snorted in frustration as she hastily piled some dirt upon them, lest they start a forest fire.

She forced those memories down, down and down into the dark and murky recesses of her soul. They did her no good upon the surface. She had no need of them. All of that… all of that was past her now.

But Phoebe Kommenos always seemed to bring out the worst in her.

Cinder brushed her hair irritably back behind her shoulder. She had no doubt that Phoebe had done this. No proof, admittedly, but no doubt either. She could not conceive of anyone else who would want to do such a thing; it was not as though Phoebe would be constrained by the fear of collateral damage, and it was not as though she was above paying to win either. In fact, Cinder would go so far as to say that what successes she had accrued in her meagre career she owed entirely to paying to win, either in the form of better equipment than her opponents or simply paying them off.

She relied entirely upon the wealth she had inherited from her late mother to grease her way in life, whether in buying victories one way or another or in – as far as Cinder could see – buying friends with the largesse that she could demonstrate to those who laughed at her feeble jokes.

It must gall at her then, that the things that she really wanted were all the things that money could not buy her: a triumph over Pyrrha Nikos – any sort of tournament triumph, really – the sword Soteria, any sort of real respect from anyone.

And so she had sought to buy another triumph, to use Atlesian technology to summon enough monsters to win a battle she could not win on her own.

If it didn't work – and Cinder honestly hoped that it would not work – then it would rather prove her point once more about the folly of relying upon these Atlesian tricks.

Phoebe had done this; Cinder would lay odds upon it in the sure and certain knowledge that her bets always came up.

The question – the real question – was what would Cinder do about this fact? What would she do about Phoebe?

Kill her.

Cinder sighed. That would be… very lovely and thoroughly deserved, but it was too soon. The last thing she wanted was a manhunt on Beacon campus.

And besides… she looked down at her hands, and scowled at the slight tremor that had come over them. Just thinking about… just thinking about confronting her…

Cinder was very glad that nobody could see her at the moment.

Another option was the profoundly safe bet of turning in a couple of these technological lures as evidence to the proper authorities. Let Professor Ozpin and General Ironwood investigate their way to the answer that was staring Cinder in the face. She doubted that Phoebe was intelligent enough to have concealed the transactions whereby she had obtained these devices. The trail would lead back to her, and she would be expelled at best, if not facing criminal charges.

That did not please Cinder. The last thing she wanted was for Phoebe to be stuck snug in a cell, enjoying room and board at the expense of the Valish taxpayer. She wanted… she wanted Phoebe to suffer. She wanted her to be defeated in the Vytal Festival; she wanted Phoebe to be humiliated by Pyrrha one last time, on the grandest stage in all of Remnant, before the eyes of the entire world. She wanted Phoebe to lose, to suffer the ultimate defeat, before…

Cinder clenched her hand into a fist. By that point, she would be able to do what must be done. By that point, she would have mastered all her childish fears.

I am the storm. I am the east wind that will sweep through Remnant, and I am not afraid of Phoebe Kommenos.

I will not be afraid.

She would do… nothing, much. She might send Lightning Dust – the most thuggish of her crew in appearance and manner, plus Phoebe would hate being menaced by a faunus – around to have a word with her, persuade her to let it lie from now on.

She didn't want Sunset as part of this ridiculous, petty vendetta.

For that matter, she wanted noble Pyrrha to stay reasonably safe too.

Yes. Yes, that was the best way. She would handle this privately, and actually privately – not Sunset's definition of 'privately,' which seemed to involve your deeds becoming an open secret around the school.

"Cinder?" Twilight called, and besides her voice Cinder could hear her crashing through the undergrowth with all the subtlety of a goliath. "Cinder?"

Cinder stood up, and slinked out from behind a tree. "Yes? Here I am."

"Oh. Right," Twilight said. "What are you doing?"

"Oh nothing, much," Cinder replied. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing's the matter," Twilight said. "I've got some news, great news."

XxXxX​

Ruby's aura was broken.

And Blake fought on.

The grimm had attacked not long after – by the sound of it, at least – they had come after Sunset and Arslan. Sunset had dropped her scroll, Blake and Ruby had begun to discuss what it meant, and then there had been no time to think of anything but their own situation.

As beowolf after beowolf emerged from out of the trees – with the occasional ursa to switch things up, how fun – Blake found herself thinking that maybe Professor Port had gone just a little bit overboard when he was setting up this test.

Still, they hadn't done badly at first. Ruby had been magnificent, cutting through grimm by the half-dozen at a time in great swings of her scythe, gunning them down with shots from Crescent Rose. They had been holding their own, and the only reason Blake thought of it as holding their own and not as winning was that the grimm just kept on coming, replenishing their numbers as fast as they could be cut down.

And then Crescent Rose got stuck in a tree.

That was always a danger with weapons as big as that one, and in conditions as cramped as a forest. Ruby had, in fact, sliced through a couple of trees in the course of this battle – and an old statue of a robed woman – when they had been unfortunate enough to get in her way, but this was a particularly old and stout oak, and Crescent Rose had stuck in the wood point-first, unable to cleave through the wood but stuck too fast for Ruby to get it out again before the grimm were on her.

Blake should have been closer to her. She had been in the midst of a rampage, and she had allowed her bloody swathe through the beowolves to carry her too far from Ruby's side. The first thing she had known of Ruby's distress was when she cried out for help, and Blake had turned to see that one of the beowolves had got Ruby's cape between its teeth, dragging her to the ground and holding her fast, her tiny fists meaning as little to it as tossed acorns.

And while it held her, the other beowolves closed in.

Blake had rushed back to her immediately, carving a path through any beowolf or ursa to stand in her way, using her shadow clones to leapfrog past opponents, flying into the grimm whose claws rose and fell, rose and fell on Ruby Rose.

She had cut them down, one and all, bursting amongst them with an angry cry like a lion amongst the buffalo of the plains, but it was too late. She had been too late.

Not too too late, thank whatever god had made the faunus and whatever god or gods watched over Ruby Rose. She was not dead. She wasn't even injured bodily. But her aura was gone, and she was out like a snuffed candle. Her eyes were closed; she lay on the ground with her head lolling slightly to one side, arms stretched out limp by her side.

She looked incongruously peaceful for the desperate circumstances in which they found themselves.

Blake had dragged her to a hollow in the treacherous tree that had trapped her scythe, laying her there to limit the number of directions from which the beowolves could approach, and then she had planted herself before Ruby like a mother bear protecting her cub from the spears of the hunters.

She fought on. She fought on to protect Ruby until… until Sunset came. Yes, Sunset would come. Sunset would come because Ruby was in danger, and Sunset would not be blind to that nor be forestalled from coming to Ruby's aid, though grimm or armies stood between them. And until she arrived, Blake would protect Ruby.

Until she arrived… or even if she didn't, then Blake would still protect Ruby. Until whatever end.

And so she fought. She emptied magazine after magazine from Gambol Shroud, she slashed with her sword, she hacked with her cleaver, she buried her hook in the black flesh of the grimm. She used her clones, although more sparingly than was her wont because she dared not let the grimm get close to Ruby. So she fought, and so the grimm came, running out of the trees without end, as though they were being drawn as much by Blake's anxiety as by any bait Professor Port had laid out. Perhaps they were, but there wasn't much that Blake could do about that.

She just had to fight and keep fighting.

And so she fought, though the grimm kept coming and they got luckier and luckier with their blows. So she fought while her aura level got lower and lower. Blake did not even consider the possibility of retreat. She would not allow Ruby to die, nor even come to harm, not while she lived.

Blake stood in front of Ruby with her legs spaced apart and Gambol Shroud in pistol mode. She blazed away, shot after shot leaping from the flashing muzzle with a series of staccato snapping sounds, the rounds slamming into a pair of beowolves, two of a trio of the closest creatures, striking them down before the third of their number lunged at her. It passed through a shadow clone as Blake reappeared above the grimm, throwing down her cleaver to strike like a thunderbolt clear through the neck. It began to turn to ashes as Blake landed on the ground once more. Gambol Shroud switched from pistol to sword smoothly in her hand in time to bisect the beowolf that tried to pounce upon her from behind.

Another grimm dashed past her, aiming for Ruby, growling in anticipation – but Blake flung out her hook and buried it in the beowolf's leg, dragging the creature with her ribbon back towards her where she despatched it with a single smooth stroke of Gambol Shroud.

One of the creatures pounced on her, bearing Blake to the ground, but she sent it flying upwards with a powerful kick, leaping first to her feet and then after her prey, driving the black blade of Gambol Shroud up into its chest until the tip of the sword pierced its back.

Her weapon transformed from sword to pistol as she fell, spraying fire across the edge of the path at the grimm still coming from the edge of the woods. She could feel herself getting low on aura, so the more of these monsters she could kill before they got close, the better.

Blake landed, legs spread out, knees bent; she lashed out with her cleaver to split the skull of a beowolf that got too close. But, as she struck at that grimm, another leapt at her, too fast and too close for her to get out of the way; she had to burn aura in order to evade it, reappearing beside the grimm, severing its head with her cleaver scabbard-

But as she struck, she had no time, and insufficient aura remaining, to escape the other beowolf that came at her from the other direction.

It bore her to the ground, her aura shattering as she struck the earth with a thump and a cry of pain that was drawn out as she was dragged along that ground by the beowolf that pushed her with its forepaws, pressing them against her shoulders, its claws pricking at her skin sharply enough to draw blood but not firmly enough to do much more than that.

With her aura gone, what it was doing felt like quite enough.

The beowolf dug its claws in just a little deeper; the pain of it was like fire burning in Blake's blood, and she howled at it, she howled as the grimm bent down and snarled into her face.

Blake grimaced and bared her teeth right back at it as she buried her hook in the side of its neck.

The beowolf let out a startled yelp of surprise, its open mouth frozen in a look that Blake could only find to be confused before it turned to ash.

Blake climbed to her feet. Yes, without aura, she wasn't moving as swiftly or as fluidly, she wasn't able to simply backflip with acrobatic grace the way she could have without. Yes, her shoulders were throbbing with every prick that the beowolf's claws had dealt to her; yes, she could feel the warm blood running down her body; yes, the pain was like someone yelling into both her ears, constantly seeking her attention no matter how she wished to concentrated on other things; but she still got up. She could still get up. She could still fight.

And she had vowed to fight. She had vowed to protect Ruby. Not 'until her aura ran out' but absolutely; Ruby was down, but Blake would fight on, though her aura too was shattered.

While there was breath in her, she would fight on.

She started to run, trying to ignore both the pain and the heavy breathing both at the same time; she ran towards Ruby, scooping up Gambol Shroud from where she had dropped it – it was still in pistol mode, thank goodness – and she opened fire upon the grimm who, ignoring Blake, thinking little of her, dismissing her now that she was without aura, had begun to bear down upon her temporary partner.

Blake opened fire, and as she opened fire, she roared in anger, roaring like the beast that so many had dismissed her as or accused her of being, roaring like a lion to scare away the jackals. She roared and she fired and she planted herself once more between Ruby and all harm like a stone wall and she blazed away, blasting the grimm to ashes until she had no more rounds left in Gambol Shroud's magazine.

And no more mags in her pouches. That had been the last one.

The beowolves – twelve of them in all, and they seemed to have stopped coming for now – waited, watching her warily, and yet at the same time, Blake could also sense an anticipation rising from them; they knew – either they had seen or because they could sense it – that she had no aura. They didn't anticipate that she would, that she could, provide much opposition to them now.

Maybe they were right. Maybe it was pointless. Maybe she would die swiftly, and Ruby would die soon after.

Or maybe not. Maybe Sunset would come. Maybe some other unexpected stroke of luck would swing her way.

It didn't matter. She would fight regardless. She faced the beowolves with Gambol Shroud's pistol turned sword in one hand and its cleaver in the other regardless. Not because it was fun, not because it was easy, not because it was glorious, not because there was a greater good or a cause worth dying for, but because it was right. Because there was a life at stake.

Because who she was was where she stood, though where she stood be where she fell.

The grimm advanced slowly, soft growls rising from their throats.

Blake waited for them, legs bent and poised to spring.

The beowolves rushed, and Blake rushed to meet them, charging straight into the centre of the pack which closed around her. She drove Gambol Shroud through the centre of a beowolf's chest above its armoured bony plates, but a set of claws raked her back from behind, slashing through the metal plate she wore on her back to scar her skin. Blake cried out, stumbling, but still had the strength to slash in turn at the forepaw of the nearest beowolf; she didn't sever it, but she made it recoil. She tried to ignore the claws that raked her shoulders, lashing out with her cleaver; maybe she killed one, maybe she injured one, maybe she did nothing at all; it was hard to tell. The world had shrunk to a black mass around her, to a few bony masks snarling into her face, to the space that she could swing her weapon. She threw her hook and thought she got one. It was so hard to tell. Hard to concentrate through the pain.

They raked her leg. Blake couldn't restrain the shriek of pain as she collapsed onto her knees, but she held it together long enough to stab one of them through the gut. She knew she killed it, she saw it die, she tried to take advantage of the momentum of the kill, but her leg was burning, it wouldn't support her weight, it crumbled beneath her as she tried to stand.

She was struck across the neck and face, knocked to the ground; she could feel the blood; it felt… it felt so warm.

Her vision was… starting to blur. The beowolf that loomed above her was indistinct, hard to make out; it was just colours without any real shape.

It was getting hard to see anything at all.

Green. Green light. So bright. Blinding.

And then there was only darkness.

XxXxX​

Bursts of magic flew from Sunset's palms, striking down beowolf after beowolf, starting with the one that was straddling Blake but showing no mercy to any of them, slaying them all, one after another, and none of them even got close to her.

She didn't have a lot of magic left – she'd used a fair bit of it getting here – but that didn't matter; what mattered was killing the grimm before they killed Blake, and if she had to use all of her magic to accomplish that, then she would.

And she did. The grimm died, and Sunset had no time to consider the state of her magical reserves as she rushed to Blake's side.

Ruby, it seemed, was basically unhurt. She was unconscious, and her aura was down, but it seemed that her aura breaking was the extent of the damage. Blake, on the other hand… they had really done a number on Blake. Her clothes were torn to shreds, and the fair skin beneath it was not much better: she had a nasty wound to her neck and the bottom of her face; she had scars raking down her sides, gashes on her leg; what remained of her white waistcoat was soaked with blood.

"Blake?" Sunset cried, as she knelt down beside her. "Blake? Blake, if you can hear me, say something."

Blake did not reply.

Sunset tore off her jacket, draping it over Blake like a blanket and pressing it down, trying to smother as many of Blake's wounds as she could reach – and see. She used telekinesis – might as well use the magic while she had it – to press the jacket down everywhere equally. Leather wasn't the best for this, but her tank-top wasn't really big enough.

Sunset held her vambraces to Blake's mouth; it misted up from her breath, but only slightly. Blake was still alive, but only just.

Sunset pressed the jacket down harder. "Come on, Blake. Stay with me. I need you to fight for just a little longer, okay? Come on, you can't die before you've achieved equality, come on."

"Ruby?" Jaune's voice echoed through the trees. "Blake?"

Oh, thank Celestia. "Jaune!" Sunset yelled. "Over here, quickly!"

"Sunset?" Jaune cried in disbelief.

"Yes!" Sunset shouted back. "Come on, Blake's hurt!"

"Blake?" Jaune repeated, still with the incredulity in his voice, but he came nonetheless, emerging out of the trees and onto the path, with Flash Sentry just a step or two behind him.

Jaune's eyes widened as he saw Blake. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Sunset replied. "Can you do your thing?"

"What about Ruby?" Jaune asked, looking around for her.

"She'll be fine, I think," Sunset replied, taking her jacket off Blake so that Jaune could get a better look at her. "Blake needs you more."

"Right. Okay. Sure," Jaune said, and it was his turn to rush to her side now, even as Sunset took a step away. He knelt down beside her and held his healing hands over her, and the shining light spread from his palms to engulf her with its golden glowing embrace.

"Thank you," Sunset murmured. Jaune didn't reply; he was too busy concentrating on his work.

Sunset left him to it; he had had his semblance for long enough, he was perfectly capable of doing what needed to be done. Sunset walked towards Ruby, scooping up Sol Invictus and Soteria – she had discarded them to take on the beowolves – as she did so.

"Sunset," Flash said.

Sunset stopped, looking at him. "Hey, Flash," she muttered.

Flash looked at her for a moment, then looked away, and then looked back again. "I'm glad you're alright," he said.

Sunset hesitated. "Mmm. Likewise," she said quietly.

Flash blinked. "Where's the girl you were with? Arslan, was it?"

"I… I don't know," Sunset admitted. "We got separated. I had to find Ruby."

"You left her?" Flash demanded.

"She volunteered, I had to make sure that Ruby was okay, and Blake," Sunset insisted. "Once I've made sure they're safe, I will go back and look for her." She knelt down beside Ruby, checking her more thoroughly for any injuries. She couldn't see any. It seemed that being knocked out really was the extent of it.

Sunset guessed that she had Blake to thank for that.

I don't know how I can begin to thank you properly for that.

"What does safe look like right now?" Flash asked.

"I… I don't know," Sunset admitted.

"Jaune and I-"

"Jaune can't fight while he's helping Blake," Sunset declared.

"And you don't trust me," Flash said.

"Not as much as I trust myself," Sunset replied. "No offence."

Flash didn't reply to that, perhaps because he had no reply and perhaps because they were both immediately distracted by the sound of something else approaching.

Sunset snatched up Sol Invictus and immediately ran to put herself between the new intruder and Jaune and Blake.

"Stay where you are, Jaune; I'll cover you," Sunset said. "Don't worry about it."

"I won't," Jaune said, and he even sounded sincere about it.

Sunset raised her rifle to her shoulder; out of the corner of her eye, she saw Flash coming to stand beside her, shield up and spear resting atop the rim of Rho Aias.

The ursa lumbered out of the woods, its arms swaying slightly by its sides. Its movements were stiff, a little sluggish, and instead of a roar, a sort of barely audible moan escaped its bleach bone jaws.

It took one single, solitary, halting step forwards before it collapsed onto the ground.

It did this because it had Miló buried in its neck.

"Sorry I'm late," Pyrrha said, snatching up her weapon out of the disintegrating ursa as she strode forwards.

"Always glad to see you, Pyrrha, you know that," Sunset said, evident relief breaking in her voice as she lowered the muzzle of her rifle. "Surprised, but glad."

"Once I knew something was wrong, I couldn't just wait," Pyrrha replied. "How's Ruby?"

"Unconscious, but unhurt," Sunset said, stepping aside. "Blake, on the other hand…"

Pyrrha gasped, her eyes widening. "What did she-?"

"Protected Ruby, I think," Sunset murmured. "We won't know until she tells us; she was… when I got here, she was almost done. If Jaune hadn't shown up…"

Pyrrha nodded. "How is she, Jaune?"

Jaune glanced up at her. "I… I think she's stabilising?" He ventured. "I don't know; it's really hard to tell." He paused. "What's going on up there?"

"I… don't really know," Pyrrha admitted. "Or rather… when Cinder and I left-"

"Cinder's here too?" Sunset asked.

"I left her with Twilight; Sage is also wounded," Pyrrha explained. "No other students are being dropped into the forest. I think something must have gone wrong somehow."

"Tell us about it," Sunset said.

"And with the nevermores, I suppose it might be too dangerous. But what I don't understand is that the Atlesian airships are covering Beacon, but not attacking the grimm over the forest. Or in it. They're not doing anything to help us," Pyrrha continued.

"That doesn't make any sense," Flash said.

"Twilight can't explain it either," Pyrrha added.

"So what you're saying is that we're on our own?" Sunset asked.

"I'm afraid so," agreed Pyrrha.

Sunset made a sound that was halfway between a growl and a wince. "Okay. Now that you're here, can you stay here? Arslan stayed behind to buy me a little time to reach Ruby, but now that you can protect them, I should go back and try to find her."

Before she could, before Pyrrha could agree, before any of them could do anything, they were disturbed by the sounds of howling beowolves filtering through the trees towards them.

The howling of a lot of beowolves.

"Oh no," Flash moaned. "They must have followed us after all."

"You brought them here?!" Sunset snapped.

"If we hadn't gotten here, Blake would be in real trouble," Jaune reminded her.

You could have left him, Sunset thought, but did not say because… because she didn't actually want Jaune to leave Flash behind, and if he had done so… she probably would have gone back for him before she went back for Arslan. Such was the hold that he had on her still. "How many?"

"Too many," Flash replied. "More than I've ever seen in one place before."

To Jaune, Sunset asked, "Can you move Blake?"

"I don't know," Jaune moaned. "I can't tell."

Sunset glanced at Ruby, lying beneath the tree as though she were sleeping beneath its leafy bower. "Pyrrha, get Ruby up into that tree and stay there until… until help arrives; it's bound to eventually."

I may not like Professor Ozpin, but he wouldn't let the students he's taken an interest in die, would he?

Maybe if we did, it would prove that we weren't that interesting after all.

The three of them formed a line, a little line, a meagre line, but the best line that they could muster in the circumstances. Pyrrha's Miló was in rifle mode, ranged alongside Sol Invictus; Flash kept his Caliburn in spear configuration, and Rho Aias held before him.

The howling of the beowolves grew louder and louder; the three huntsmen could not see them yet through the trees, but they could hear them and measure their approach by the cacophony they made, a swelling sound of bloodlust that grew louder by the moment until-

Until for one brief and shining moment, the howling of the beowolves was drowned out by the whining of an engine as an airship passed overhead, casting its shadow over the trio, then over Jaune where he tended to Blake, before it flew away, banking swiftly to return towards them. And as it banked, Sunset could see it clearly: an Atlesian Skyray painted in bright cyan, with the cloud and rainbow lightning bolt of Rainbow Dash painted proudly on the nose.

 

[ScipioSmith]

The Ace of Canterlot​

James called. Ozpin wasn't particularly surprised. He sometimes thought that James let his closeness towards his students cloud his judgement as a headmaster a little too much – James was not their father, and Ozpin feared that he forgot that fact more often than was wise – but it made the general rather predictable to one who knew him as well as Ozpin did.

And in the current circumstance, Ozpin found it hard to blame him. They might have a number of broad philosophical disagreements, ranging from the proper role of the military to Ozpin's belief that James coddled his Atlas students too much, teaching them to rely on outside help that might not always be available – the current situation being a case in point – but he couldn't blame James for being desperate for news.

Had their places been reversed… had their places been reversed, he hoped he would have been just the same, even if he feared it would not be so.

He answered the call. "General."

"How's it going down there?" James asked immediately, forgoing all pleasantries.

"Miss Nikos has entered the forest, accompanied by Miss Fall," Ozpin said. "Whether they will be enough to turn the tide is… uncertain."

"Oz, you know that we can't just wait this out," Ironwood declared. "Now that those grimm are here, they aren't just going to get bored and go away again; at least while there are still students in the forest, the grimm will keep hunting them."

"I'm aware of the behaviour of the grimm, James," Ozpin declared reproachfully.

"Then what are you going to do about it?" James demanded. He sighed. "I've tried contacting the Council again, but I'm being answered by their secretary."

"As am I," Ozpin replied. This was the downside of having treated the Council as he had and of having given First Councillor Aris so many headaches over the past year: the First Councillor considered herself to have been ill-used by him, and now, she was being petty in response.

He would have begrudged her the vindictiveness less if there were not lives on the line.

James scowled. "Politicians," he growled. "Who came up with this set-up?"

"Someone who was doing what he thought was best," Ozpin replied softly. "Someone who knew he was establishing the worst system in the world, apart from all the others that had already been tried."

"Forgive me if I withhold my agreement," James muttered. "What are we going to do, Oz?"

Ozpin was silent for a moment. Miss Shimmer, who could have been either great or terrible or somewhere in between; Miss Nikos, so full of promise, the last flower to bloom from a bygone world; Miss Rose, Summer's girl, so young and so eager, in heart the very model of a huntress. All thrown into the fire. All at risk. All… all gone, perhaps.

He had hoped that their skill might see them through, he had thought that if they could survive this trial by fire, then they would have proved themselves one step closer to being ready, but James was right: the grimm would not stop hunting them. And it was unlikely that they could kill every grimm that had been drawn into that part of the forest. Perhaps they could fight their way to the Green Line, out of the Emerald Forest, but that seemed a slender thread on which to build any great hopes.

Ozpin wished he had his cane with him; he felt the sudden need to lean upon it.

"I am not sure that there is anything we can do," he murmured.

James stared at him. "We can't just give up on them, Oz! There must be something; we have to do something!"

"Is this not what we do, James?" Ozpin demanded. "We send these valiant young men and women into great peril, even to their certain deaths? Do we not send them out to fight and die alone, unaided, and then hate ourselves for being monsters that we are and then do it all again tomorrow? Is there any difference except that these young gallants have not yet been given the fig-leaf that we call graduation?"

"Oz-" James began.

"This is hardly the moment for you to try and console me, James," Ozpin informed him quietly.

"No," James murmured. "No, I guess it's not." He paused. "I try not to leave anyone to die alone if I can avoid it."

"Sometimes…" Ozpin didn't finish that thought. He didn't actively seek it either, but there were instances when it was quite simply unavoidable. "I do not know what there is to be done."

"Sir!" the voice of Miss Dash rang out from behind him. "Permission to speak!"

XxXxX​

Dash's leg twitched. Her foot tapped impatiently up and down upon the ground.

Something was wrong. It was obvious that something was wrong. Everyone in the freshman class, gathered outside in front of the docking pads, knew that something was wrong. Knew that something had gone wrong. Knew that things in the Emerald Forest weren't going according to plan.

What gave it away? What didn't give it away? The fact that Professor Ozpin and Professor Port were huddled together discussing things that they didn't want the students to hear, the fact that no more Bullheads had taken off, the fact that you only had to turn around and you could see nevermores flying around out past the school, the fact that a cruiser and its air wing had taken up a defensive position over the school, none of this was normal. None of this was how things were supposed to go.

Rainbow didn't know what, exactly, had gone wrong, but she knew that something had. Everyone knew that something had. None of these students here were idiots; at least, none were bigger idiots than Rainbow Dash. They all had eyes; they could all work this stuff out.

Of course, none of them were doing anything about it. They were only whispering and murmuring and worrying… and tapping their feet.

Everyone except Pyrrha. Pyrrha had done something. Pyrrha had run for the cliffs, and if Rainbow wasn't mistaken, she had jumped right off them too. Off the cliffs and into the forest. She had gone to help her friends, while Rainbow… Twilight was down there, Twilight was there while something was going wrong, and Rainbow was just… just standing here!

She felt like a coward. Pyrrha made her feel like a coward.

What's going on? And why isn't anyone doing anything about it? Why is that ship holding station instead of taking the fight to the grimm?

Is Twilight still okay?

"You're tapping your foot," Ciel observed.

Rainbow glanced at her. Ciel stood at ease, her hands clasped behind her back. Clasped a little too tightly. "And your hands are too tight," Rainbow replied.

Ciel's only reply to that was a slight sigh.

"Are you… are you both worried?" Penny ventured. "About Twilight?"

Rainbow hesitated. "Yes," she admitted. "I'm worried."

Ciel hesitated for even longer than Rainbow had. "As am I," she said at last.

Penny blinked. "Should I be worried, too? This… it isn't how things are supposed to go, is it?"

"No, Penny, it is not," Ciel declared. "The following waves of students should have been flown in in quick succession, and there should have been no need for a fleet deployment."

Penny frowned. "But if the fleet has been deployed, then isn't everything okay? Won't they save everyone?"

"That's how it's supposed to work," Rainbow muttered.

"In this case… we simply lack information," Ciel said. "I suspect that Professor Ozpin and Professor Port have discussed the situation at hand, but they are not sharing their information with us."

"I… I see," Penny said softly. "But Pyrrha and Ruby are really strong, especially Pyrrha; and so is Sunset too, in a different way to them. I know that Twilight wasn't partnered up with any of them, but maybe if they all team up, then-"

"Believe me, Penny, if I knew that had happened, I would not be nearly so worried," Rainbow replied. "Trust me, I wouldn't be nearly so worried if I knew that Twilight was with Blake, never mind all the others. But I don't know that, and so… so I worry." And I hate that Pyrrha has more guts than I do.

"You are not at fault," Ciel said.

"Huh?" Rainbow asked.

"Pyrrha has followed the dictates of her conscience, but you are not at fault by remaining here in obedience to orders," Ciel assured her.

"Really?" Rainbow asked. "Then why do I feel at fault?"

Ciel was silent for a moment. "Obedient service is not always easy," she said in that typically even tone of hers.

"Thanks, that makes me feel a lot better," Rainbow growled. She turned around, looking over the heads of some of the students gathered around her to see – past and through the screen of Atlesian airships grouped around the cruiser – the nevermores flying over the forest. "The problem is the nevermores," she declared.

"What do you mean?" Penny asked.

"I mean, that if the skies were clear, it wouldn't matter what kind of trouble there was down in the forest because we could either bring in more students or, if things were really too hot, airlift the ones that were already in the forest out again. Even if they didn't want to continue the exercise, then they could get Twi and the others out. But because of all those grimm in the… ah!"

Penny's eyes widened. "Rainbow Dash?"

"I'm such an idiot!" Rainbow cursed, smacking herself on the forehead for only thinking like a huntress in training when she wasn't just that, not by a long shot. "Wait here," she commanded before she started pushing her way through the crowd – Penny followed her in spite of Rainbow's instructions, practically forcing Ciel to do likewise – until she had not only cleared the front rank of the huddled students, but closed the distance with the headmaster by half, waiting until she reached the edge of the landing pad on which he stood to come to attention, slamming her foot down on the pad, and say. "Sir! Permission to speak!"

Professor Ozpin turned to face her slowly. He had a scroll in his hand, and on that scroll, Rainbow could just about make out the face of General Ironwood looking out at her.

Rainbow saluted. "Sir!"

"At ease, Dash," General Ironwood said in a voice that was distant but audible nevertheless. Rainbow saw the General return her salute, and so she lowered her arm and came to an 'at ease' posture, legs spaced out and hands clasped behind her back.

Professor Ozpin's expression was unreadable, at least to Rainbow. He walked towards her and kept his voice soft as he said, "Permission granted, Miss Dash."

"Request permission to mount a rescue, sir."

Professor Ozpin glanced down at General Ironwood, who – unless Rainbow was imagining it, which was possible – had a slight smile on his face.

"Explain, Miss Dash," Professor Ozpin said.

"I don't know whether the situation on the ground is so bad that you wouldn't insert any more students in there if you could, sir, but you can't," Rainbow said. "And you can't get the students of the first wave out either because the grimm own the skies over the Emerald Forest. Now, I… I don't know why we're letting them rule it," she said quickly, hoping to get over the hump of the disrespect to the General quickly but at the same time knowing that if she didn't say it, it would keep on bugging her until she did. "But I can get them out regardless, in my Skyray."

Professor Ozpin's eyebrows threatened to rise. "There are a very large number of nevermores, Miss Dash; believe me, withholding evacuation is not a decision that I take lightly. What makes you think that you can accomplish this?"

"Because I'm that good of a pilot, sir," Rainbow replied. "But you don't have to believe that; you only have to ask yourself: what have you got to lose? Me. And if you risk me, then you might get some of the gold out of that forest… isn't it worth the risk?"

Professor Ozpin again glanced down at General Ironwood. "James? What do you say to this?"

"I say that if anyone can get this done, Dash can," General Ironwood replied, and he was looking at Rainbow, not at Professor Ozpin, when he said it.

Rainbow felt her chest puff itself out a little as she heard that. "I won't let you down, sir."

"Considering what you've volunteered for, Miss Dash, letting anyone down should be the least of your concerns," Professor Ozpin replied. The corners of his lips twitched upwards. "Permission granted, Miss Dash. Bring them home."

Rainbow saluted. "Yes sir!" She turned around, finding Penny much closer than she had expected. "Penny, stay here. Ciel, make sure that Penny stays here."

"Affirmative," Ciel responded.

"'Stay here'?" Penny exclaimed. "But Ciel and I should come with you. Twilight and the others might need help-"

"I'll have help," Rainbow replied. "Just… not you."

"Why not me?" Penny demanded. "I'm ready! I've already fought the White Fang; what's so different about-?"

"This is not a question of readiness, Penny," Ciel said, placing a hand on Penny's shoulder. "This is a question of… value, is it not, Rainbow Dash?"

Rainbow nodded. "You're too valuable to risk in something like this."

"But you're risking your life for our friends," Penny pointed out.

"And if the General walks down any street in Low Town, he can find twenty guys just like me," Rainbow replied. "You're the only Penny that we've got."

Penny pouted. "No! They're my friends too, and I want to help you rescue them! Why should I just sit here-?"

"Penny," Ciel cut her off. "This complaining is childish and to no purpose."

"If you're going to treat me like a child, then why shouldn't I be childish?" demanded Penny.

"Penny," Rainbow said sharply. "Look at me."

Penny did, indeed, look; her green eyes were bright from the backlighting, and they glared into Rainbow's face.

Rainbow didn't flinch; it would look bad if she did. "Do you trust me?" she asked.

"I never-"

"Do you trust me?" Rainbow repeated.

Penny nodded solemnly. "I trust you, Rainbow Dash."

"Then trust me," Rainbow implored her. "I'm going to get them back, but you need to stay here and stay safe. There are lots of battles to fight, real battles, battles with whole kingdoms at stake. But this isn't one of them. Trust me, I can get this done."

Penny hesitated. "You will save everyone, won't you?"

Rainbow grinned, and threw her a thumbs up. "I'm all over it."

"Rise up through snow and cold and heart of winter," Ciel murmured. "May the Lady be your co-pilot."

Rainbow nodded but said nothing. She looked out across the sea of gathered students. She wasn't going to take Penny, and not taking Penny, she couldn't really take Ciel either – someone had to take over as team leader if this didn't work out – but she did want someone to go in with her, just in case anyone needed help groundside. Someone who could handle themselves, someone who wasn't afraid of a little direct action, someone reliable, but also someone who was crazy enough to go along with this.

Or a team whose leader is nuts but whose second is reliable. "Hey, Trixie!" she yelled as she walked past Penny and Ciel and back the way she'd come. "You want to be a hero?"

"The Grrrrrreat and Powerrrrful Trrrrixie is already a hero amongst heroes!" Trixie proclaimed, throwing back her cape and hitting a green-haired, red-eyed girl in the face with it in the process. Trixie didn't notice as she grinned. "But I'm always ready to join in a stupid plan if you need my help."

"If Twilight needs help, then we're in," Starlight agreed.

"Thanks, guys," Rainbow said. "I'll owe you for this."

Tempest rolled her eyes. "Sure. Sure. Whatever."

"We're not doing this so you'll owe us," Sunburst insisted. "We're doing this because it's the right thing to do."

"But we'll take a favour anyway," Trixie added.

"Ignore her," Starlight said. "Blake risked her life to save us on our last mission. How can we do less now that she needs help?"

"Maybe nothing, but I'll owe you anyway," Rainbow said. "Now come on, let's go."

XxXxX​

Ozpin looked down at his scroll. "Can she do it, James? Or are we throwing good children after more good children?"

"I told you before, Oz: I've never met anyone with more guts and determination than Rainbow Dash," Ironwood replied. "She'll get it done; you can count on it."

XxXxX​

Rainbow led Team TTSS up the ramp into The Bus, their feet clattering upon the metal of the ramp as they piled inside the airship.

"Starlight, I need you up here with me," Rainbow said as she took off her wings – she'd hardly need them to fly a Skyray, and the truth was that their bulk got in the way a little when she was sitting in the pilot's chair – and stowed them in one of the lockers behind the benches next to the side doors. "At least until we pick up Twilight."

"Uh, I've flown a little," Starlight said, "but I wouldn't say I've got what it takes for a mission like this."

"I don't need you to take the controls; I need someone smart to bring up the locations of everyone we need to pick up," Rainbow explained, slamming the locker door shut with a metallic thud. "Can you use their scrolls to trace their positions?"

"Sure, if they've got their scrolls with them," Starlight replied.

Rainbow grinned. "I knew I could count on you." It was well known that Starlight Glimmer could turn her hand to… pretty much absolutely anything. She might not be the best at all of those things – she wasn't quite as smart as Twilight, or as scientifically or mechanically gifted, and she was right: she was nowhere near as good a flyer as Rainbow Dash – but she was pretty darn good at all of them. It had been, to be honest, a little unnerving how awesome she was at everything, like, why was General Ironwood wasting his time with Rainbow Dash when this girl was obviously going to be Atlas' champion in years ahead? Then she'd had a freak-out from the stress of it all, gone AWOL, and eventually been tracked down to a nameless village out in the wilds where she'd been trying to persuade everyone to wear sackcloth and bake deliberately bad-tasting muffins – the villagers hadn't taken much notice and honestly seemed glad to have a huntress around – which had answered that question, lost Starlight her team-leader spot, and meant that she had come back to repeat her first year after she got out of therapy. All in all, being Trixie's second seemed to agree with her more than being the rising hope of Atlas ever had, and she hadn't had any problems since, so Rainbow wasn't worried about having her ride shotgun.

In fact, in the current situation, she couldn't think of anyone that she'd rather have.

"Tempest," she added, "when we set down, I'm going to need you on one of these guns." She pointed to the two triple-barrelled rotary cannons mounted on rails running along the ceiling parallel to the doors. Not all Skyrays carried them all the time – they were usually reserved for airships attached to front line units – but The Bus had them for situations just like this, and a good thing too, considering there were likely to be as many grimm on the ground as in the air.

"Understood," Tempest said, her voice and expression alike betraying nothing. She was absolutely impassive, the situation not fazing her at all.

That was probably a good thing.

"But right now, everyone strap in," Rainbow said. "This ride could get rough." She turned in the direction of the cockpit, trusting Starlight to follow.

"Wait!" the voice that hailed her belonged to Sun, and his voice was followed shortly after – as Rainbow turned back – by his self as Sun leapt onto the ramp and scampered into the airship. "Wait," he repeated. "I'm coming with you."

Rainbow frowned. "Sun, I know you must be worried about Blake-"

"This isn't about Blake!" Sun exclaimed. "I mean, sure, I'm worried that she's in there, even though I know that she's a totally awesome huntress, and if anyone can handle herself in a situation like this, it's her, but this isn't about her. This is about Sage. He's my teammate, and he's in trouble, and so I should do something to help him. I should have gone with Pyrrha, but I didn't, and now… I should do this, don't you think? Isn't this what a team leader would do?"

Rainbow hesitated. "Maybe it is," she conceded. "But if I let you come with me, and then Weiss shows up wanting to come with us to help out Flash-"

"Rainbow Dash!" Weiss called, and Rainbow heard her feet pitter-pattering up the ramp before she burst in, shoving Sun slightly aside to make room for her. "I'm coming with you."

"No, you're not," Rainbow insisted. "If you two come along, and then Yang shows up next, there's not going to be any room for Sage or Flash or anybody else we're supposed to evacuate."

"If you have us, why do you need… these people?" Weiss demanded, waving one dismissive hand to encompass Team TTSS as Trixie, Tempest, and Sunburst took their seats on the front benches and strapped themselves in.

"Because I trust them," Rainbow said. "And also because they're kind of expendable if this goes wrong."

"Hey!" Trixie cried.

"Listen, I get it," Rainbow said, "you want to be good team leaders, believe me; in your shoes, I would want in too. But I also know that if I were down there in that forest, the last thing I'd want would be for my team leader, my friend, to get hurt on some dangerous rescue plan."

"Then why are you going?" Weiss demanded.

Rainbow grinned. "Because I don't take enough notice of what Twilight wants." The smile faded from her face. "Trust me, we're going to bring them home, all of them. But I need you to step down and wait for them to come back, okay?"

Weiss frowned. "What makes you so sure?"

"Because this is what I do," Rainbow said earnestly. She could fight; she could kill grimm; if it came to it, maybe she could kill men too; but what she was, what she really was, what she thought that General Ironwood took notice of her for, was a saviour. She'd protected Twilight and the others from Chrysalis; she'd saved Applejack, Maud, and Spearhead from the grimm; the reason she was the leader of Team RSPT was in case somebody needed to save Penny. That was what Rainbow Dash did: she made sure that everyone got home safe.

And she didn't mean to break that streak now.

Weiss looked into Rainbow's eyes. "Winter tells me that you're very good," she murmured. "And my sister is a very good judge of character. Come on, Sun; we don't want to get in anyone's way."

Sun's mouth opened; for a moment, it looked as though he might say something, but he did not; he simply followed after Weiss as they both exited the airship.

"Trixie, shut that door before Yang shows up," Rainbow ordered; she heard the door hissing shut behind her as she, once again, turned to the cockpit.

This time, she made it there and sat down in the pilot's seat on the right-hand side and started running hastily through the pre-flight checklist. Dust at one hundred percent, engines green, weapons loaded, sensors operating…

Starlight sat down in the seat beside her. "There is one thing that concerns me a little," she admitted, even as she took out her scroll and began to tap away on it.

"What's that?" Rainbow asked.

"There are ten people down in the forest, right?" Starlight said. "Including the two who went in after the first group?"

"Pyrrha and Cinder, yeah, ten," Rainbow replied.

"This airship is only rated to carry ten people," Starlight said. "And there are already five of us."

"Yeah, but come on Starlight, this an Atlesian airship," Rainbow declared. "Everyone knows Atlesian engineering has a one hundred percent margin of safety."

"Does it?" Starlight asked.

Rainbow paused for a moment. "Well, let's hope so, huh?" she said, flashing a grin in Starlight's direction. Twilight had told her that it was so; admittedly, Twilight had told her so while defending the way that she had built a hundred and fifty percent margin of safety into the Wings of Harmony.

Hopefully, Twilight hadn't been lying to save face.

Nah, Twilight wasn't the kind to do something like that. One hundred percent margin of safety.

Probably.

Starlight rolled her eyes.

As the engines on The Bus stirred to life, Rainbow quickly got out her own scroll and called Twilight. She wouldn't have risked calling anyone else in the middle of a hot combat zone like that, and she didn't know of anyone in the forest who would be stupid enough to answer their scroll in the middle of a fight, but Twilight's armour included her VI, Midnight, who could do things like answer the scroll without Twilight have to lift a finger.

Rainbow wasn't always sure that she liked Midnight, but she was glad that she existed right now.

"Hello, Rainbow Dash," Midnight said, her voice seeming even more mechanically distorted than normal when coming out of the other end of a scroll.

"Rainbow Dash?" Twilight cried.

"Twilight!" Rainbow said loudly. "Are you okay?"

"Thanks to Pyrrha," Midnight said.

"What happened?" Rainbow demanded.

"Nothing happened," Twilight insisted.

"Several deficiencies were discovered with Twilight's combat system," Midnight informed Rainbow. "Also, she almost died."

"'Almost-'" Rainbow forced herself not to panic. Panic wasn't going to help. She needed to be calm and cool to fly the airship. "How much aura do you have left?"

"About twenty percent," Midnight said.

"It's not my aura that I'm concerned with," Twilight declared. "Sage is hurt; he needs help. What's happening up there?"

"What's happening is that I'm coming to get everyone," Rainbow said. "Starlight is trying to fix your location using your scroll; can you give her a hand with that, or are you too preoccupied?"

"Starlight?"

"Hey, Twilight," Starlight broke in. "Rough day, huh?"

Twilight sighed on the other end of the line. "You could say that."

"You can tell us all about it when we get back to Beacon," Starlight said. "Until then, do you think you can help me out?"

"Sure, I'll do what I can," Twilight said. "Rainbow, are you sure you can do this? The nevermores-"

"Let me worry about the nevermores; you just stay safe until I get there."

"Okay. I'll try. Thank you."

"Yes, thank you, Rainbow Dash," Midnight added. "This is why you're my favourite."

"No, I'm not," Rainbow replied.

Midnight paused. "No," she admitted. "As a computer, I don't have favourites."

"I don't believe that either," Rainbow muttered. "Sit tight; we're on our way." She ended the call, gripped the wheel, and hauled up on it to lift The Bus up into the air. The sky sank down to meet them, the buildings of Beacon falling away as the airship ascended. Starlight looked down at the scroll in her lap, tapping away, while Rainbow's gaze flickered between the view out of the cockpit and the instruments arrayed in front of her. Sensors detected no hostiles; all systems were go.

Rainbow's hands spun the wheel, turning the airship upon a central point so that the Skyray's bulbous nose was facing eastward towards the Emerald Forest. Rainbow Dash accelerated, the airship lurching forwards towards the line of Skydarts ranged around the cruiser that, now she was in the cockpit, she could identify as the Resolution; they were guarding the cliffs, warding off any attempt the nevermores might make at Beacon. There probably wasn't much chance of it – the grimm weren't stupid, unfortunately, and they probably knew that attacking a huntsman academy was a cheap ticket to an early grave – but it was the closest the Atlesian forces could get to engaging the enemy.

Rainbow pulled the microphone off the wall. "Resolution, this is Rorari Three-Two heading out over the Emerald Forest."

"Roger that, Rorari Three-Two; good luck out there."

"Wish you were coming with me."

"Wish we were coming too, Three-Two, over."

"Understood," Rainbow said and hung the microphone back up.

Starlight shuffled in her seat. "I wonder why they're just standing there?"

"We'll find out eventually," Rainbow said.

"Will we also find out what Twilight's doing in an academy uniform?" Starlight demanded.

Rainbow looked at her.

"Come on, Rainbow Dash, you must realise this is the question everyone who knows Twilight has been asking," Starlight needled. "She's no huntress, so why the act? What's going on?"

Rainbow looked away, out of the cockpit. "It's classified."

Starlight snorted. "In other words, don't ask," she muttered.

"Pretty much, yeah."

Starlight shook her head. "So many secrets."

If only you knew, Rainbow thought.

They passed through the Resolution's fighter screen, beyond the cliffs and out over the Emerald Forest; Rainbow could see patches of the green and verdant forest canopy out of the corners of the cockpit, passing down below, stretching out green uninterrupted for miles beyond.

And above the trees, the nevermores circled. There must have been about fifty of them, circling, darting back and forth, their wings flapping as they peered downwards at the forest below. Every so often, one of them would dive down towards the trees, but never for very long, never reaching the ground; they always pulled up before they reached that point.

Rainbow asked, "What do you think they're doing?"

Starlight looked up from her scroll and shuddered. "I think they're looking for prey," she said before she plugged in her scroll to a dock on the dashboard. Instantly, the scroll began to project a three-dimensional hologram of the forest, with ten red dots marking positions scattered across the map: seven in one place, one solitary dot off to the north-west, and three dots closest to The Bus.

"That's Twilight, there," Starlight said, indicating the trio of red dots. "One of them, at least."

The Skyray's sensors began to blare out.

"And that's the first nevermore, right there," Rainbow muttered.

It was coming straight at them. Its mouth was open, and although Rainbow couldn't hear it, she could imagine the shrill shriek coming out of the giant grimm's mouth as it bore down on them, head to head, talons outstretched.

I bet you wouldn't be going head to head like this against a Skydart, Rainbow thought. The grimm weren't stupid, more was the pity; they knew which kinds of airships were more dangerous than others.

Or thought they did, in this case. It was coming straight for The Bus because, as big as it was, it didn't believe that the Skyray was armed with anything that could hurt it.

Rainbow was in no hurry to disabuse this one of the notion; as the nevermore flew straight at them, Rainbow did the same, maintaining a level course towards the nevermore in turn. She accelerated slightly and fired off the smaller rotary cannons mounted upon the wingtips; the guns fired, tracer rounds zipped past the cockpit, marking the way as the shots tracked the nevermore and impacted into it, bullets thudding into the black feathers of the grimm.

The grimm took no notice of them, ploughing through the fire, great wings beating, driving it on towards Rainbow Dash and her airship.

Once more, Rainbow found she could imagine the shriek.

"Uh," Starlight murmured. "You want to tell me why you're not using the bigger gun?"

"Not yet," Rainbow replied, her thumb hovering over the button to fire the Tempest cannon.

"Why not?" Starlight demanded.

"Because I want to make sure that I don't miss," Rainbow said, lining up her shot.

The nevermore stretched out its talons, its body rising upwards as it prepared to grab the Skyray from the front.

Rainbow fired the Tempest.

If there was anything to convince Rainbow that Atlesian ships were engineered with a truly staggering margin of safety, it was the fact that she had been able to strap the most ridiculous gun ever made to the bottom of an airship in no way designed for it without suffering any ill-effects whatsoever.

Okay, that wasn't entirely true; as Rainbow hit the button and held it down, as she fired the Tempest at the nevermore that wanted her dead so badly, the entire airship shook. The vibrations of the gun was like an earthquake on the ground, making the cockpit shake, and would have thrown one or both of Rainbow and Starlight out of their chairs if they hadn't been strapped in. Behind her, Rainbow heard Trixie moan in alarm as the whole airship wobbled like jelly that hadn't set right.

But it was worth it, for the way that the nevermore simply disappeared in a cloud of black feathers, thrown backwards as a stream of heavy calibre armour-piercing rounds struck it square on the breast with a buzzsaw sound that echoed upwards into the airship itself.

And then there were clear skies before them.

"And that," Rainbow said, "is why I waited."

The alarm began to ring out once again.

Rainbow Dash looked up to see two nevermores swooping down upon The Bus from out of the sun.

She banked hard to the left, tilting the Skyray, feeling herself being pulled down, pressed against the straps that held her in as she upped the power level on the engines just a little bit. She didn't stay to fight – these nevermores might not have missed the fate of their comrade, and them coming down on her, it would be tough to get into position to fire the Tempest – so she ran, banking first to the left and then to the right, jinking this way and that while the nevermores pursued them, their black wings pounding, gaining slowly upon the Atlesian airship as they flew.

"Can't this thing go any faster?" Starlight demanded.

"Yes."

Starlight boggled at her for a moment. "Then why isn't this thing going any faster?!"

"Because I don't want to lose them," Rainbow replied, "I want to string them along."

Starlight stared at the girl in the pilot's seat. "Are you crazy?"

"No, I'm a great pilot," Rainbow replied, grinning like a maniac. Her hands were steady as a rock, and she didn't know if Starlight noticed, but there was not a single bead of sweat anywhere upon her, certainly not on her hand. By the gods but she had missed this, both the freedom of flying and the thrill of it, of knowing that even on a good day, you were one slip up, one accident away from death, and that went double when there were grimm around.

Everything was in her own hands. Her survival was entirely up to her, and it was awesome! No limits, no boundaries, just showing the whole world what she could do.

And so she let the nevermores gain on her, drawing closer, ever closer, and then, when she judged that they had gotten close enough, Rainbow hauled back on the steering column, and then she let the throttle out. The enhanced engines of The Bus roared to life as Rainbow's beauty shot upwards into the sky, soaring higher, ever higher, rising towards the clouds with the nevermores still in hot pursuit.

A Skyray was fast on the level – faster than a nevermore – but the avian grimm had a better rate of climb, so Rainbow needed to give it all she had in order to stay ahead of them during the race for the clouds. The nevermores stopped gaining, holding the distance between them and their prey even, never falling behind and not letting up in their pursuit, not for a single moment.

Starlight was being pressed backwards into her seat, moaning softly in discomfort. From behind, Rainbow could hear Trixie shrieking. She sounded a little like one of the nevermores.

The grin didn't leave Rainbow's face. Sure, things might not seem fun right now, and she could feel the harness digging into her chest the same as Starlight could, but once they pulled this off, they were all going to feel absolutely fantastic.

"Look at this view!" Rainbow whooped as they rose higher and higher, bursting through a cloud, rising so high that when Rainbow cut back on the engines for a moment, when she throttled the power back to a bare minimum, The Bus hung suspended for a moment, high above a world that was spread out all around them.

And it was beautiful. You could see the whole of Vale from up here, in all its sprawling glory. From up high, the Atlesian cruisers looked like the model ships that Ciel made. The Emerald Forest was a lush carpet of green laid out across the world so that nobody stubbed their toes walking on the floor, and the mountains rose up out of the earth like the jagged blades of an obsidian club. Rivers of sparkling sapphire wound their way across a land of tiny villages and small towns, and railway lines bound the land in chairs of iron.

Rainbow couldn't see all the way to Atlas from up here, but in a way, that was a good thing. Home was a long way off, but it was good that the world wasn't small enough to fit into the view from an airship.

The world was so vast and so beautiful.

She wondered where in all this expanse of loveliness Fluttershy and Applejack were; she tried to imagine them, wandering along the ground like tiny ants, while she sat in heaven looking down upon them all.

Then the Skyray began to fall.

It began to plummet to the ground, and the rate of its descent accelerated dramatically as Rainbow Dash turned the engines back on to maximum, turning the Skyray so that its nose was pointing straight towards the ground, the ground towards which the airship rushed with all the power at its command. The nevermores scattered out of her way, aided by Rainbow firing downwards at them to give them some more encouragement, but as The Bus flew headlong like a thunderbolt towards the ground, they pursued once more, joined by a third nevermore, all of them falling down, black darts pursuing.

The forest grew larger and larger, closer and closer.

"Rainbow Dash!" Starlight cried, holding onto the ceiling of the cockpit with one hand as she looked to be trying to push herself back into her seat.

Larger and larger, closer and closer.

"RAINBOW DASH!" Starlight yelled when there was nothing in their view but green trees, on which they could see the leaves.

Rainbow pulled up, hauling back on the steering column to wrest the Skyray out of its descent and bring it level, no, rising just a little bit. The bottom of the airship towards the tail hit the trees with a thump that made them all bounce, that made the airship rise a little and then fall a little before levelling off just above the treetops.

The nevermores were not so lucky. Unable pull up in time, all three of them, tangled up together, getting in one another's way as they sought to escape their fate, ploughed into the ground, smashing trees beneath their bulk, kicking up great clouds of earth as they cratered the landscape beneath them.

Rainbow didn't know if any of them had survived the impact, but she wasn't about to take any chances; as she banked the airship around, she opened up the missile launchers on the starboard side and fired on the crater the grimm had left.

Nothing stirred once the smoke cleared.

A triumphant laugh began to rise from Rainbow's throat… only to cease when she thought about how many adorable forest critters might have died as a result of what she did.

Maybe I won't tell Fluttershy about this.

Starlight gasped. "That… that was-"

"Great, right?"

"Not quite the word I'd use," Starlight replied.

There were no other nevermores actively trying to kill them, so Rainbow kept the airship flying just above the treetops as she looked back over her shoulder. "Everyone okay back there?"

Trixie groaned wordlessly.

"I think I might hurl," Sunburst muttered.

"Tempest, can you stand?" Rainbow yelled.

"Of course," Tempest replied. "You want me on the gun?"

"Yes," Rainbow said; she looked back at Starlight's map. They had, by luck, come down pretty close to the lone dot making their way through the forest. "Someone's nearby."

She heard, rather than saw, one of the side doors open up, but rather than glance back again to see Tempest deploying the side cannon, Rainbow kept her eyes in front of her – and on the sensors – as she banked The Bus gently in the direction of the single lost lamb in the forest. She couldn't help but wonder what kind of person would leave their partner like that.

Perhaps it was Blake; she could see Blake doing something stupidly noble like trying to lead the grimm away from Ruby.

She was that kind of person. It was what made her such a good fit for Atlas.

It was also the kind of thing that was going to get her killed one of these days if she wasn't careful.

A flash movement caught her attention; a head poked up through the leaves, followed by a figure climbing up to the top of one of the trees, waving both her arms in the air to get Rainbow's attention. It wasn't Blake, it was the Haven student, Arslan Altan, the one who was some kind of bigshot back in Mistral. Rainbow brought the Skyray alongside the tree, and Arslan nimbly leapt aboard, landing inside with a thump against the metal.

"Thanks," she said as Sunburst – feeling a little recovered – helped her to a seat. "I have to admit, I wasn't expecting a rescue effort with all those nevermores around." She paused. "Just like I wasn't expecting to see any airship pull a stunt like that. That was incredible."

"You didn't have to experience it," Trixie groaned.

"What happened here?" Sunburst asked. "Where's your partner?"

"What happened is the creatures of grimm," Arslan said. "There were so many of them; like, what kind of an exercise is this?"

"One that's gone wrong," Starlight declared as she got out of the co-pilot's chair and made her way back into the passenger section. "Grimm numbers are much higher than expected; that's why the skies are full of nevermores, that's why we're getting everyone out." She glanced at Trixie. "We should get ready."

Trixie unstrapped herself. "Quite right, Starlight. I was wondering who'd be the first to notice that it is time to get ready!"

Rainbow shook her head. As she guided the VTOL – gently, bearing in mind there was a door open now – towards the location of Twilight and her companions, she glanced back into the passenger section and said, "You never said what happened to your partner? Is Sunset okay?"

"Sunset went on ahead," Arslan replied. "Ruby's aura broke; she could move faster on her own. I tried to catch up, but I… got lost."

Tempest sniggered.

"I'm a city girl; I don't know where I am in the countryside!" Arslan protested.

Rainbow said nothing. What Sunset had done… it probably wasn't the right thing to do, but at the same time, she could absolutely understand why Sunset had done it, and, well, there was a reason they were headed towards Twilight next.

Maybe Sunset and I are more alike than I thought.

There's an encouraging thought.

In addition to Tempest on the cannon, Starlight crouched in the doorway with her Equaliser in rifle mode; as the Skyray flew low over the trees, Starlight would sometimes see a beowolf darting through the forest beneath them. Equaliser rang out, a turquoise-coloured laser bolt streaming from the barrel; sometimes, she could see that she had hit the target; other times, she just had to hope that she had.

They flew over one of the paths cutting through the forest, following it southwards towards Twilight's location. Once or twice, they saw ursai or small groups of beowolves, and when they did, the side-cannon whirred as it sprayed the forest with fire, splintering tree bark and denuding the trees of their leaves as grimm were dissolved in the hail of fire.

Rainbow let out a breath that she hadn't known that she'd been holding when she saw Twilight, distinctive in her lavender armour, waving one hand towards them. There was someone else with her too, Cinder Fall in her brown vest and pants, shielding her eyes from the sun as she looked up towards them. Rainbow could see Sage too, lying on the ground. He wasn't moving.

"Rainbow Dash!" Twilight's voice broke through on the microphone. "Am I glad to see you!"

Rainbow nearly ripped the microphone off the wall. "Me too, Twi; me too. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," Twilight insisted. "It was a little scary, I admit, but I'm okay, thanks to Pyrrha and Cinder."

"Where is Pyrrha?"

"She left Cinder here with me and went on ahead to go help Ruby," Twilight said. "Her aura broke; I don't know if she's okay."

"We'll find out soon enough," Rainbow assured her. "How's Sage?"

"I don't know; I'm not a doctor," Twilight replied. "I'm not sure if we should move him."

"We don't have much choice," Rainbow replied. "Hang on, I'll set her down; that way nobody has to jump while carrying him."

"Is there room to land here?"

"I'll make it work," Rainbow said, gently easing The Bus downwards towards the ground. It was a tight squeeze, definitely – this path had been made for people not for airships – but it had also been made to give people a reasonable amount of space, and so, by shifting first this way and then that, by moving the wings inch by inch to avoid the trees, by taking it nice and slow, she was able to bring the airship down to hover just above the deck. She didn't extend out the ramp, as much as that might have made things easier. They might need to make a quick getaway, after all.

Sunburst got one of the two stretchers down from the ceiling and leapt down to carry it to Twilight and Sage, while Starlight also disembarked to cover them, Equaliser pressed against her shoulder as her aim darted this way and that.

Cinder, by contrast, embarked into the Skyray, not waiting for Twilight as she and Sunburst got Sage onto the stretcher. Rather, Cinder walked into the cockpit, her boots tapping lightly upon the floor, and leaned over Rainbow's seat.

"So, gallant Atlas decided to rescue us after all," Cinder drawled. "I must confess that I'm surprised."

"You shouldn't be," Rainbow grunted, "Saving people is what Atlas does."

"Oh, yes, you save everyone, don't you," Cinder said. "You never fail, you never falter, you never let anyone die. You have the power to save every single life."

"I didn't say that," Rainbow said. "I just… we try, okay? We don't leave anyone behind."

"Apparently not," Cinder conceded. "And yet… rather a small rescue party, isn't it? Just you and… some other people."

"We're Team Tsunami!" Trixie declared. "Led by the Great and Powerful-"

"Fascinating," Cinder interrupted. "My point is, why just one ship?"

"You only need one ship when I'm at the controls," Rainbow declared. "Thanks, for sticking by Twilight."

Cinder smirked. "Oh, don't mention it, Rainbow Dash. It was pure pleasure."

She retreated just as Twilight levitated Sage's stretcher inside and then embarked herself, followed by Sunburst and Starlight. As Sunburst secured Sage's stretcher on the floor, strapping both the stretcher and the patient in at the back of the airship so that neither of them would be thrown around if Rainbow had to do any more dramatic flying, Twilight made her way up to the cockpit.

Rainbow grabbed her, pulling her into an embrace that was no less tight for being one-armed. She pressed her forehead against Twilight's and, for a moment, closed her eyes.

"You are not doing this again."

Twilight laughed nervously. "I hope not."

Rainbow opened her eyes. "I'm glad you're okay."

"I'm glad you came for me."

"Always," Rainbow said softly.

A smile briefly spread across Twilight's face, and for a moment, it looked as though she was going to say something else… but instead, she merely took the now vacant co-pilot's seat, and Rainbow returned her attention to the controls as she guided the Skyray – once more, gently – back up into the air and towards the remaining students still in the forest.

She kept The Bus to about half the speed she was capable of, mostly because she didn't want to completely overshoot the target or miss where Blake and the others were – maybe trying to get their attention like Arslan and Twilight – because she was going too fast to slow down in time.

Tank had taught her that there were times when slow and steady won the race.

However, as the Skyray glided over the treetops, Rainbow soon noticed – even before Starlight called out to her – that it wasn't just the forest floor and the trees that were passing beneath them.

It was the grimm, a mass of grimm, maybe not enough to be called a horde – and Rainbow didn't see any really big ones there – but it was certainly a huge column of beowolves, a black mass running through the forest, sometimes thinning out as a dense copse of trees or a rock formation presented some obstacle to their movement, but then flowing back again into the column they had presented before. They were like a river, a tide of grimm that could be momentarily broken up but not denied the unity of its course. Individual grimm were impossible to keep track of as they disappeared out of sight from time to time as the trees blocked the view from above, but it was impossible to lose sight of the mass of grimm, the sheer number of them moving in one group, one direction.

In the same direction as the huntsmen.

The sound of their roars and growls rose up from the forest floor as Tempest opened fire on them, spraying the column with rounds from her rapidly rotating cannon. Some of the beowolves looked up; they bared their fangs; they raised their paws in angry, futile challenge; but though Tempest's fire raked their column, it did not diminish the size of the black, angry mass in any meaningful way.

Some of the beowolves leapt up into the air or else climbed trees before jumping off the highest branches that would bear their weight, claws flailing wildly as they sought to gain the Skyray and massacre all those within. Those that weren't killed instantly by Tempest's cannon, by Starlight's Equaliser, those that weren't burned by the fire from Trixie's wand, fell back, flailing and howling, to the ground below as Rainbow pulled her airship upwards, out of reach of grasping claws.

She also accelerated, the engines roaring as the forest began to disappear beneath more rapidly, as The Bus gained ground over the grimm, racing towards the head of the column, soaring over beowolves and alphas, beyond them even as they raised their heads to look for the shadow that had passed overhead.

If they didn't reach Blake and the rest before the grimm did, well, things could get messy.

But there always seemed to be more grimm ahead, the column they were dashing over never seemed to end, they never got out in front of the grimm, there were always more of them, more of them, and as the six red icons of the six students on Starlight's map got closer and closer, Rainbow began to worry that the grimm might have beaten them to it after all.

They had not, thank the gods; at the last moment, just before they reached the point at which everyone was waiting, Rainbow and her Skyray overshot the grimm. Of course, she overshot the students too, which was why she hadn't wanted to be going this fast in the first place, and had to bank around, descending from her loftier height towards them even as the first wave of grimm began to make their final approach.

She could see them, in the clearing: Blake was on the ground, with Jaune kneeling over her, applying his semblance to her – was she hurt? Was it serious? And how was it Blake was down, the truest mettle Rainbow had ever met in her life? – while Ruby slumbered in a nook formed by some tree roots, and Sunset, Pyrrha, and Flash formed a line against the onrushing grimm. The sunlight glimmered off the armour of Pyrrha and Flash momentarily dazzling Rainbow as she piloted the airship down in front of them.

It didn't seem to be dazzling the grimm.

"Coming in hot!" Rainbow shouted. "Tsunami, get ready for incoming! Arslan, get them in, quickly!"

She brought The Bus in as fast and as hard as she dared without actually crashing it, offloading missiles from the pods mounted to her wings, raking the front of the column of grimm with fire from her wing-mounted guns – she didn't want to risk the Tempest right now; the vibrations might throw the whole airship off kilter – before turning sharply to descend between the grimm and the huntsmen, a hollow metal barrier between the six and destruction.

The grimm burst out of the woods, howling and snarling and roaring for blood. Their roars were answered by the spitting of the cannon as Tempest raked them with fire, by the hissing of Equaliser as Starlight fired as swiftly as she could, by the crackling flames as Trixie's fire, amplified by wind from Sunburst's staff, erupted in a blazing cone to consume all before it.

"Get in! Quickly!" Arslan shouted, and it seemed less than a second to Rainbow's ears before the sharp crack of Pyrrha's rifle was added to the cacophony of sounds doing battle against the growling of the grimm.

"Two in," Arslan called. There was the crack of Sunset Shimmer teleporting. "Four in. I'll find her a seat; don't worry."

Sol Invictus began to bark loudly.

"Six in!" Arslan yelled. "Everybody safe and sound."

Rainbow didn't need telling twice. The moment she heard the words, she pulled the Skyray up sharply, closing the doors on both sides of the airship as The Bus shot upwards. She heard a thump striking the side, and then heard a muffled yelp as the beowolf who had tried to jump them lost its purchase and tumbled back to earth once more.

Rainbow risked a glance backwards, from the cockpit into the pretty crowded main section. Everyone who had gone into the forest looked a little worn out, and everyone, including Team TTSS, looked a little shaken.

"How's Blake?" Rainbow asked quietly.

"She's hurt," Jaune said, his voice hoarse. "I've done what I can, but I still think she should see a doctor."

"Secure her on the other stretcher at the back," Rainbow said. "This might be a bumpy ride before we get home… and Ruby?"

"Her aura broke, but I don't think she was injured, at least nothing more than bumps and bruises," Sunset replied. She pursed her lips together. "Thanks for showing up."

Rainbow smiled thinly. "I never leave my friends hanging," she said, and turned back to the steering column and her controls. "Now, maybe we can have an easy-"

The alarms blared.

"I need to keep my mouth shut," Rainbow muttered as she turned for home and gunned the engines to maximum. No, she pushed them past maximum, trusting to that one hundred percent margin of safety – and hey, overloading the Skyray hadn't caused them to crash just yet – as she pushed the engines beyond what they were supposed to go.

And, you know, they didn't blow up or anything. Which was good, because it seemed like every nevermore over the forest was converging upon them, following them, descending in front of them, trying to fall on them like they were sparrows and the hawk was out. Rainbow fired every missile she had left, she let every gun blaze away, not trying to kill the grimm but to make them flinch long enough to get out.

She jinked and rolled, dodging the talons that reached for her airship and the feathers like knives that were flung at it from all directions. They burst through the mass of black, leaving the grimm to follow in a great roiling mass as The Bus raced for the cliffs.

The cliffs, and the Atlesian airships beyond.

Rainbow grabbed the microphone. "Resolution, this is Rorari Three-Two; I hope you're ready for company, because we've got lots of it."

"Copy that, Three-Two. Maintain your present vector precisely. Don't be alarmed; we've got you covered."

"Understood," Rainbow said as the smile returned to her face.

For a moment, the Skyray flew straight and true in the direction of Beacon, and the nevermores pursued.

Then the sky was lit up by lasers as the Resolution and its fighter screen opened up at once, red lasers from the cruiser and green from the turrets on the Skydarts streaking out across the blue to pierce the cloud of nevermores. The grimm scattered, flying this way and that as some of their number were vaporised, pierced by the bolts and turned to ash. The Atlesian airships fired again and again, some of their bolts passing so close to The Bus that their glare illuminated the cockpit, but none of them so much as scratching the cyan paintwork on the vessel.

The nevermores withdrew, pursued by yet more lasers, their numbers reducing every moment as the Atlesian fire found its mark again and again.

"Thanks for the save, Resolution."

"Any time, Rorari Three-Two."

"Rorari Three-Two, this is Valiant Actual; what's your status?"

Rainbow swallowed. "Everyone is on board, sir. Blake and Sage are in need of medical attention."

General Ironwood was quiet for a moment. "How bad is it?"

"I'm not quite sure, sir."

"Alright, I'll inform Ozpin," General Ironwood replied. "Twilight?"

"I'm right here, sir," Twilight murmured. "I'm… a little shook up, but I'll be fine."

"Thank gods for that," General Ironwood said, a touch of weariness entering his voice. "Good work out there, Dash."

Rainbow's chin rose a little higher in spite of itself. "Thank you, sir."

 

[ScipioSmith]

To Each a Task​

Sunset swung her legs out over the sky as she and Cinder sat on the docking pad, looking out across Vale as the sun descended towards the horizon.

"How's Ruby?" Cinder asked.

"Fine," Sunset said. She hesitated for a moment. "Disappointed in herself."

"For almost dying?"

"For losing," Sunset explained. "She ought to have been able to take out a bunch of beowolves without breaking a sweat. Or so she believes, anyway."

"I'm a little surprised you're not with her," Cinder murmured.

"Anything that I said to try and make her feel better would seem like a platitude at this point," Sunset explained. "I think the only one who can really make her feel better is Blake. That's what upsets her most: it's not the fact that she couldn't win; it's the fact that she was so helpless that Blake had to save her life."

"Is it a shameful thing to have your life saved by another?" Cinder asked. "I thought that what teams were all about: rah-rah, teamwork, watching one another's backs, that sort of thing."

"Could you sound any less sincere about this?" Sunset asked.

Cinder chuckled. "Sorry," she murmured. "It's just that, when it comes to the topic of personal helplessness… I'm afraid that I am inclined to agree with Ruby. She ought to be ashamed of herself."

Sunset's eyes narrowed. "You won't repeat that where she can hear you. Or at all, as a matter of fact."

Cinder stared at her, a slight smirk playing across her face. "Of course not," she said softly. She bowed her head. "Forgive me."

Sunset snorted. "We all have bad luck sometimes. There is no disgrace in it."

"I'm sure that Blake will agree, once she wakes up," Cinder said airily. "Speaking of which, I'm a little surprised that you're not with her."

Sunset pouted. "They wouldn't let everyone in the room. It's just Yang and Rainbow Dash."

Cinder giggled, covering her mouth with one hand. "So, does that make me your third choice of person to spend time with, or your second?"

"I'm here with you because I want to be," Sunset declared. "And because I want to say thank you."

"I did very little."

"You came," Sunset insisted. "That's enough."

"I would have liked the chance to save your life," Cinder said.

"You saved Twilight."

"I helped," Cinder corrected. "Don't overinflate the record of my accomplishments."

"You came," Sunset repeated. "You came to aid us. Only Pyrrha can say the same, in this whole school. Well, you two and Rainbow Dash and… Team Tsunami; by Celestia, I owe my life to the Great and Powerful Trixie. Ugh." She got to her feet. "I might have to throw myself off this docking platform in sheer embarrassment."

"I'd rather you didn't," Cinder drawled. "The sound of your screaming on the way down would make it very hard to appreciate the view."

"You think I'd scream as I fell?"

"I think you'd scream the school down, yes," Cinder said.

"Really?" Sunset asked, and her eyebrows rose as she stepped off the docking platform.

She fell silently, arms spread out, wind pushing at her face and rushing through her hair as she plummeted towards the ground… for all of two seconds before she teleported back onto the docking platform.

"There, you see?" Sunset asked. "Completely silent."

Cinder glared at her. "Perhaps I should break your aura and then we can try that again."

Sunset chuckled. "We could, if you like," she said, with the smug confidence of someone who didn't use aura to teleport.

"No," Cinder murmured. "Let's not; that would be rather tedious."

"Fine by me," Sunset said, sitting down again. "I mean, who wants to fight when we have this great view to enjoy, huh?" All of Vale was spread out before them, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, the high towers casting long shadows over the rest of the city, the myriad panes of glass reflecting the light in vibrant flashes, the lights beginning to blink as the light fell.

It was no Canterlot, and it was not a perfect city, but at the same time… it wasn't half bad.

"Thank you," Sunset said again.

Cinder leaned backwards, tucking her hands behind her head. "You can make it up to me some other time."

"I will," Sunset said. "You can count on it."

XxXxX​

The golden light of the late afternoon spilled through the window into the room in the hospital wing.

Blake's room.

She was sleeping still, her long black hair spilling out over the pillow in all directions, framing her face like a halo of darkness. She was covered by a white sheet from the neck down, obscuring the bandages in which they had bound her injuries.

Thanks to Jaune, she wouldn't have any scars, or at least not any really noticeable ones; not that you could have seen most of her scars anyway, but if you could, they still wouldn't be very noticeable.

Not that it would have been a big deal if you could see them. All that scars did was show that you were brave.

The exercise had been called off, but although there were a lot of people who would have liked to be here for Blake when she woke up, the size of the room and – more importantly – the attitude of the nurse meant that only a couple of people were allowed to stay with her. Rainbow Dash was one of them, leaning against the wall with her arms folded across her chest, one leg raised and pressed, sole down, upon the wall.

Yang was the other person here; it was weird… well, no it wasn't; there were perfectly valid reasons why Rainbow Dash didn't think of Blake's team leader as being one of the people closest to her, but it said something about the way things had turned out for Blake lately nonetheless.

Nevertheless, in spite of the fact that Rainbow would have listed Sunset above Yang in terms of people close to Blake, Yang had insisted on being here. And, since Rainbow had refused to go, that meant that Sunset would just have to wait for news about Blake like everyone else.

Sun was also not there, by his own choice instead of by the decree of the nurse; he had told them that his place was with Sage, his teammate. Rainbow couldn't help but think that Blake would be impressed to hear that when she woke up.

Yang was sat in the only chair in the room, by Blake's bedside, close enough that she could have reached out and touched her if she wanted to. She didn't, but she could if she chose.

For the moment, she kept her hands to herself, lying in her lap one on top of the other. She just looked at Blake, her purple eyes soft.

She glanced at Rainbow. "You don't have to stay, you know."

"Yeah," Rainbow contradicted, "I do."

"She's not your teammate."

"Not yet, maybe, but she's still my responsibility."

"'Not yet'?" Yang repeated. "You're that confident, huh?"

"It's nothing personal," Rainbow said softly.

Yang's brow furrowed for a moment. "I know," she said. "You want what's best for her."

Rainbow nodded. "That's right."

"And you really believe that's Atlas?" Yang asked. "In spite of…"

"In spite of the racism?" Rainbow suggested.

"You said it, not me," Yang replied. "I know that it's Blake's choice, and I'm not like Sunset looking to stand in her way, but… why? Tell me that, tell me why?"

"Why what? Why Atlas?"

"No," Yang said. "I can guess why Atlas; it's because you're from Atlas, and you think that it's the greatest place on Remnant, right?"

"Well, yeah," Rainbow said, "but only because it is."

"Beacon has Ruby, and Pyrrha, and Sunset; hell, Beacon has me," Yang declared. "What does Atlas have to compare to that?"

Rainbow thought about that for a moment. "Me," she said.

Yang smirked. "Who else?"

"Air support, that's who else."

Yang snorted. "That was a big help today, wasn't it?"

"That was Vale's fault, not ours," Rainbow replied. "The General would have come in with all guns blazing if your councillor-"

"Don't call her my councillor; I didn't vote for her," Yang said. "A leader should have a strong chin. Her opponent has no chin, and his deputy has several, but I'm still going to vote for them first chance I get; Councillor Aris doesn't have what it takes."

"Because she left your sister to die in the forest?" Rainbow asked.

"I mean, that, for sure," Yang agreed. "But even before that, she might know how to make money, but she doesn't know how to keep this kingdom safe. She wasn't able to get a handle on the White Fang, so Ruby and all you guys had to do that; she tried to arrest Blake so that she could get a good headline; I don't think she's made a single good call since all of this started. Actually, no, she did send out the huntsmen to protect the villages, I guess. Huh, I wonder if she just got it right for once or if someone pressed her to do the right thing." She paused. "I don't get how you can want to be tied down to one place."

It took Rainbow a moment to work out that they were back to talking about Atlas now. "It depends on the place you're tied to, I guess. And the people who live there."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Yang murmured. "Easier to travel when you've got nobody to tie you down."

"What about Ruby?"

"If you think Ruby is the settling down type, I've got a bridge to sell you," Yang replied. "I don't think her feet will let her rest while there are grimm in the world." Once more, she took pause before she said, "So why Blake? Let's say that Atlas really is so great and wonderful, why do you want to sweep Blake off her feet and carry her there? Maybe I'm being hard on you, but I don't think that it's just for her own good."

"And what if it was?" Rainbow asked. "What if it's nothing but the fact that some people gave me a shot at making something of myself, and I'd like to pay that forward by giving Blake a shot?"

"Because the people who gave you a shot didn't do it out of the goodness of their hearts," Yang pointed out. "They did it because they wanted something from you."

Rainbow was silent for a moment. "You make Twi and the General sound like they're using me."

"That's not what I meant," Yang said quickly. "But you know what I meant, don't you? It's like that fancy sword that Sunset came back from Mistral with. Pyrrha's mom didn't give it to her because they ran out of the room on the mantelpiece or because she was feeling generous that day. She gave Sunset the sword so that she could get something back from Sunset."

Rainbow frowned. "Am I the sword here? Is Blake a sword?"

"No, I think your wings are probably the sword," Yang explained. "You're still you. But 'the General' might be Pyrrha's mom."

And what would Aska have to say about that? "Do you believe in fate?" Rainbow asked.

Yang blinked. "You mean like destiny?"

"Sure," Rainbow replied. "I can't tell the two of them apart."

Yang nodded. "No," she said.

"That was certain."

"Nobody is pulling my strings," Yang averred confidently. "The only person who decides where I go or what I do is me. And Dad, sometimes, and the teachers when school's in session. And when I take missions, then I suppose that… wow, I'm really not free at all, am I?"

"We're too young for freedom," Rainbow said. "Don't let it get to you."

Yang chuckled. "And what about you? You do believe in fate, don't you, or you wouldn't have asked."

Rainbow reached up and scratched at one of her equine ears. "If I didn't, I don't know if I could…" She trailed off.

Yang waited for a moment. "You don't know if you could what?"

"To each of us falls a task," Rainbow replied. "It might not be a big thing, it might be one of the smallest things, but we're still put here to do it. It's our purpose, our… our gift. Something that only we can do, for Remnant. And it all adds up to something amazing, something huge, all the things that only we can do all piling up on top of one another, it's a thing as big as Atlas. But of course, for some people, the task that falls to them is already pretty huge, like leading our forces against the darkness all around.

"I'm not saying that I know exactly what Blake's task is yet, but I think… when I think of the things that she could do, I think of some pretty big stuff."

"In Atlas?"

"Anywhere," Rainbow replied. "But yes, in Atlas. Maybe. Hopefully. She's smarter than I am, she's a better fighter than I am… she's more deserving to follow in the General's footsteps, if that's what she wants."

"I'm not sure that's true," Blake croaked, her hoarse voice cutting into their conversation like an out of control airship through the front windows of an edgeside cafe. "Apart from anything else, we haven't actually fought one another, have we?"

Rainbow's eyes widened. "How long have you been awake listening?"

"I just woke up," Blake replied, speaking slowly and somewhat drowsily. "I take it I'm not dead."

Yang laughed. "No," she said. "No, you're not dead." She paused. "Thank you, for protecting Ruby."

Blake glanced at her, a slight smile crossing her face for a moment. "It was no problem," she said.

"Your injuries might disagree," Rainbow said.

Blake groaned. "You know what I mean."

Rainbow nodded. "You did good today," she said. "You did real good."

"I almost died," Blake pointed.

"Some things are worth dying for," Rainbow declared. "Our friends most of all."

"Mhm," Blake murmured. "What happened, down there in the forest?"

"Something went wrong," Rainbow replied. "A lot more grimm showed up than expected to."

"Thanks, I would never have guessed that from the fact that I almost died," Blake grumbled. "I was asking if we knew why?"

"No," Yang said.

"And we won't, probably," Rainbow said.

Blake was silent for a moment. "Nobody can go in to investigate yet because the grimm concentrations are still too high, and by the time the grimm have dispersed, they will have consumed the lures that were drawing them in, because they devour the works of man as well as humans themselves."

"Probably," Rainbow agreed. "So if anyone did interfere in the test, chances are that they'll just walk away."

XxXxX​

"So the rich and powerful get away with it again," Lightning Dust muttered. "Why doesn't that surprise me? Just another day on Remnant."

"Quite," Cinder murmured. "As you say, the wealthy and the powerful will continue to escape justice, while those who are charged with the protection of the world turn a blind eye to their evil… or actively enable it."

Lightning grunted. "Pity you didn't bring one of those lures back with you."

Cinder smirked. "Lightning. Lightning. Now why would I want to do that?"

The response to her question was silence.

Team CLEM sat in their dorm room. Mercury was lying on his back, reading some sort of Atlesian comic book. Emerald sat at the foot of Cinder's bed, looking up at her. Lightning was doing one-armed push-ups, presumably because she could.

Her vanity was rather amusing, in a slightly pathetic way. But ultimately, her vanity was what made her useful.

Lightning completed another push-up. "She nearly got your friend killed; I figured you might want to do something."

"We have more important things to concern ourselves with than Sunset Shimmer!" Emerald snapped.

"Do not presume to define for me what is and is not of import to me," Cinder hissed.

Emerald flinched. "I'm sorry, Cinder, but I thought-"

"That was your mistake," Cinder declared. "Do as you're told, but leave the thinking to me." She smirked at Lightning. "Lightning Dust, go and pay Phoebe a visit for me."

Lightning stopped doing her push-ups. "You want me to kill her?"

"Lightning!" Cinder gasped theatrically. "Are you suggesting that I would have a fellow student murdered?"

Lightning looked her in the eye. "Wouldn't you?"

Cinder chuckled. "Oh, yes," she agreed, her voice a feline purr. "If it served my interests. Phoebe's death does not. Not yet, at least. However, I do want her warned off; she's been making too much noise, and I want it stopped. So go, and make sure that she understands that from now on, she's to keep her hands to herself. Off you go."

XxXxX​

"So, Professor Ozpin, can you shed any additional light on what was going on in the Emerald Forest today?"

Ozpin sat back in his chair. "I'm afraid I've very little to add, Lisa; as you are no doubt aware, we at Beacon frequently test our students in practical exercises to test their skills in simulations of the situations that they will encounter in the field. That's what happened today."

On the other side of the screen, Lisa Lavender looked at him sceptically. "Surely you're not pretending that it's normal for the sky to be filled with grimm during one of your school exercises."

"No," Ozpin allowed. "But the grimm are not our pets; they are not predictable creatures. Unforeseen circumstances are inevitable in an environment like the Emerald Forest."

"So what happened?"

"It was always our intent to draw in grimm to oppose our students," Ozpin said. "In this instance, some more arrived than we had anticipated."

"Wasn't that dangerous?"

"Lisa," Ozpin said, in the voice of an indulgent uncle. "Everything that the students are training to do here is dangerous."

"Some might question whether that is a good thing," Lisa said.

"I'm afraid that I have little time for armchair professors," Ozpin said, his tone hardening. "We are training huntsmen here, and the life of a huntsman is filled with peril. Yes, some of our practical exercises are dangerous. Sometimes, students do not survive. Each death is a tragedy, and one which we try very hard to avoid, but I will not apologise for the curriculum they died in pursuit of. This is a dangerous life; best they learn that here rather than out there."

"But what about the intervention by the Atlesian fleet?" Lisa asked. "In addition to the nevermores, many observers saw the guns of an Atlesian warship lighting up the sky. Was that a planned part of the exercise?"

"No, I'm afraid I must credit General Ironwood for that display," Ozpin said. "The good general is a little less tolerant of risks to his students than I am; he felt it necessary to intervene."

"You mean that in Atlas, they aren't as willing to tolerate loss of life amongst the student body?"

"In Atlas, they do many things differently," Ozpin said. "But let me be clear: no lives were lost today; two students were injured, true, but they are both expected to make complete recoveries. They all acquitted themselves very well in a deliberately trying circumstance. I couldn't be prouder of them. If only one thing that I say to you takes root with people, Lisa, it is this: that Vale is being guarded by some of the bravest young men and women I have ever known, and that is something that should bring everyone great comfort."

"Thank you, Professor," Lisa said, and the picture cut out as she started to turn away.

Her voice continued to echo out of James' scroll as he and Glynda entered from the elevator. "In other news," Lisa continued, "the First Councillor's daughter, Skystar Aris, has been seen with-"

James shut off the broadcast and closed his scroll. "I'm less tolerant of risk to my students?"

"Is it not so?" Ozpin asked mildly.

James stared at him. "You think I coddle them, don't you?"

"I think that they will not always have air support to call on when they are in desperate need, and it is better they learn that sooner rather than late," Ozpin replied. "They're not your children, James."

"They're as good as," James replied, walking towards Ozpin's desk. "Some of them don't have anybody else."

"Nevertheless, they will have to-"

"To what?" James asked. "'Grow up'? This from the man who tolerated a food fight in the cafeteria on the grounds that they were still children."

Ozpin glanced at his redoubtable lieutenant. "Et tu, Glynda?"

Glynda coughed into one hand. "You do have a somewhat inconsistent attitude, Professor," she murmured.

"Man is an inconsistent creature," Ozpin replied. "I am allowed to have two thoughts in my head, though they be the most contrary thoughts that ever were thought. On the one hand, I deplore the fact that this error occurred, and our students were forced into this position; on the other hand, I am, as I told Lisa, intensely proud of them. I am even, perversely, glad that it was Team Sapphire that were engaged in this… debacle. They are one step closer to being ready."

"So you have chosen then," Glynda said. "Miss Nikos?"

"I said 'closer' to being ready, and I said the team," Ozpin reminded her. "I will not lie; she has always been my first choice-"

"And what happened in the forest hasn't changed that?" James asked.

"Miss Shimmer remains fundamentally unsuited to become the Fall Maiden," Ozpin replied. "Not only on account of her temperament and character – although I must say that would be quite enough; she would be as poor a guardian as Raven would have been – but because we do not know what mixing the magic of two worlds will do."

"What about Miss Belladonna?" James asked.

Ozpin's eyebrows rose. "You astonish me, James, what about Miss Dash?"

"Rainbow Dash would make a fine guardian for these perilous times," James said. "But Miss Belladonna-"

"Is too in love with death," Ozpin interrupted. "That would be bad enough, even were the death she is enchanted with not her own. How is Miss Belladonna, by the way?" he asked Glynda.

"Predicted to make a full recovery," Glynda said. "If she hadn't fought as hard as she did, there's a chance that Ruby might have died before Miss Shimmer could get to her."

"True, but there is also the report of the incident at Badger's Drift," Ozpin replied. "A Maiden cannot throw away her life so recklessly; she must live, for at least a little, but Miss Belladonna seems to have no concern for her own survival whatsoever."

"Is that why you don't mind that she might be coming to Atlas?" James asked.

"Could I stop her, if she wished to go?"

"I don't know," James said. "You seem to try and keep all the best students for yourself."

"I would be failing in my duties if I did not," Ozpin replied. "Nevertheless, regardless of my feelings on Miss Belladonna, I am glad to hear that she will recover. Have you heard from Councillor Aris?"

"Not yet," James said. "Which surprises me a little."

"I doubt she wishes to send you home," Ozpin said. "Perhaps she thinks it better to pretend this never happened rather than bark futilely at you."

"Maybe," James muttered. "You understand now, don't you Oz? Why I came?"

"I thought you came to fight the White Fang, not rescue students from exercises gone wrong," Glynda said.

"I came because the waters are rising," James said sharply. "She's coming for us now."

"You think this was her work?" Glynda asked.

"You don't?" James asked.

"Accidents happen," Glynda replied.

"And the rampage of the White Fang, is that an accident too?" James demanded. "She's coming for us now."

"'Coming for us'? No, James, she will not come. She will not come save only to triumph over me when all is won," Ozpin murmured. "She uses others as her weapons. Weapons which we will confront, as and when they show themselves. Until then… the students have survived a harrowing experience and won another victory. I suggest we take that and be well satisfied with it."

XxXxX​

Phoebe Kommenos stalked through the moonlit streets of Vale, looking for someone to vent her frustrations on.

Of all the rotten luck! They'd survived! Sunset had survived, and all the rest of them as well! Pyrrha had dived off the cliff into the forest after them, and she'd made it out alive as well!

And now everybody was talking about them. The whole school knew that the last exercise had gone horribly, terribly wrong, and yet, those eight students had fought their way out, and weren't they amazing! Pyrrha Nikos had gone in to rescue her friends, and wasn't that just what you'd expect from the Champion of Mistral? The Ace of Canterlot had flown her way through nevermore infested skies to extract the students, but what else could you expect from General Ironwood's star pupil?

It made her sick to her stomach.

She hated them. She hated all of them. Pyrrha, Sunset, Rainbow Dash, the whole damn pack of them.

Why do they keep rising from strength to strength while I languish in the gutter?

Her hands itched. She had restrained herself for long enough. She needed to take her frustrations out on someone. She needed to take the pain that was in her heart and make it visible on someone's face.

And so, she stalked the alleys in search of a victim.

A garbage can rattled behind her. Phoebe turned around, her chin tilted upwards, her nostrils flaring.

"Who's there?" she demanded of the darkness.

There was no response.

Phoebe laughed. "Do you think that you can frighten me by hiding and making noises? I am Phoebe Kommenos, warrior of Mistral and student of Atlas Academy; you'd best run along, unless you want me to teach you why you ought to fear my name."

Still there was no response.

Phoebe snorted in disdain and turned away.

There was a flash of lightning in the corner of her eye. She started to turn back, but her attacker was on her before she ready her weapon.

She was fast and ferocious, a freak of a faunus whose equine tail swished from side to side as her fists pounded Phoebe from all directions. Lightning surged up and down her body, and as she slammed Phoebe up against the wall, that lightning rippled across Phoebe's skin, ripping at her aura as she screamed in pain.

Phoebe cried out as she was thrown to the ground; she winced as she was kicked in the stomach, then picked up and slammed into the pavement again as she tried to crawl away. She felt another shock of lightning tear over her, the crackling of the lightning countering her cry of pain before she was grabbed by the throat with one hand.

"Please!" Phoebe cried as she looked helplessly into the burning gamboge eyes of the muscular faunus. "Please, don't kill me!"

The faunus growled. "We know what you did."

Phoebe's whole body trembled. "What I did?"

"In the forest," the faunus said. "The way you sabotaged the test, we know. We have the lures to prove it."

Phoebe gasped. Dying was bad enough, but disgrace would be even worse. If she got expelled from Atlas, she'd have to limp home and be a laughingstock back home in Mistral. It wasn't like she had Turnus' money and name to shield her from the consequences. They'd lord it over her in the arena for the rest of her days, a pathetic failure who couldn't even graduate from an academy.

"What do you want from me?" she cried. "I have money, I can pay-"

"We don't want money," the faunus grunted. "Just leave Team Sapphire alone. No more games, no more messing around. You're done. Understand?"

"Team Sapphire?" Phoebe murmured. "Did they put you up to this?"

"Understand?!" the faunus yelled, and lightning wreathed her free hand as she raised it to strike.

"Yes!" Phoebe yelped. "Yes, yes, I understand! They… they will get no more trouble from me."

She hated having to say those words. She hated meaning them. She hated it as she hated them. She would never stop wishing for their deaths. But in the face of this monster, in the face of potential ruin and deaths real and social, she didn't dare say anything else.

She didn't dare mean anything else.

She had been defeated.

Just like she always was.

XxXxX

​

Author's Note: Following this chapter, the rewrite chapters will be going on hiatus for a couple of weeks for much the same reason as the future chapters are now only once every fortnight: the next chapters have taken me a long time to write and if I keep releasing them without interruption I will run out. This seems like the right place to put the break as I designed the latest few chapters to have a mid-season finale feel to them, with a lot of action and different characters getting involved. As a result it also works as a good place for a break - so see you in October! no, it's just for a couple of weeks, I promise.

 

[ScipioSmith]

Backdoor Pilot​

The moon was out, but Adam kept the shadows as he approached the dark and unlit house, moving with a grace more feline than bovine as he moved silently towards the back door.

He pulled back the screen, and the door itself opened at his slightest touch, admitting him into a lightless kitchen. Adam's one good eye was not so adept in the dark as… as Blake's had been, but nevertheless, he was able to make out the outline of the room: the oven, the surfaces, the coffee maker and the toaster, the chairs surrounding the small table.

He could make out the figures coming in the doorway at the other end of the room.

"You came alone?" The voice that spoke was deep and guttural.

Adam's lips curled into a sneer. "Unlike you, I don't need bodyguards," he said, gesturing to the two warriors who flanked and loomed over the man who stood between them.

Adam didn't know his real name. He went by the moniker of The Purifier and hid the name he had born with as completely as he hid his face.

"Not everyone can be so great a warrior as you," The Purifier declared unapologetically.

Adam was in no mood for flattery, certainly not from someone who had summoned him like a churl. Nevertheless, he kept his temper in check; The Purifier enjoyed Sienna Khan's favour and was held in high esteem by her for his skill with explosives. For that reason alone, it would not do to kill him and invite the wrath of the High Leader.

Not until he was ready to move against the High Leader also. But that would require the prestige of a victory that he had not yet won. And so he kept his tone courteous as he said, "I'm surprised to see you here, brother; I thought you were lying low in Menagerie after that indulgence with the Atlesian actress."

"'Indulgence'?" The Purifier repeated. "Since when does Adam Taurus disdain killing humans as an indulgence?"

"All humans deserve death," Adam declared. "But since we cannot kill them all at once, we must choose our targets carefully."

"Is that what you have been doing, here in Vale?" The Purifier asked. "Choosing your targets carefully?"

"I am on the verge of such a victory as will make Fort Castle pale by comparison!" Adam declared, taking a step forward and sweeping out his hand to encompass the whole world in its expanse. "Everything that I have done has been a step towards that end."

"Everything that you have done has been at the beck and call of a human, if what we hear in Menagerie be true," The Purifier replied. "The High Leader is… perturbed."

Adam bared his teeth, unable to keep a low growl from escaping his lips. Cowards! He cursed those old men, the so-called veterans of the struggle, those who had lingered on from Ghira Belladonna's day and from the youth of Sienna Khan. Tired old men with no fire in their bellies, full of caution and bereft of hope or fire or initiative. They had always hated his plans and the alliance that he had made; they had always been unable to see. He had suspected that one of them had betrayed him – that was why he'd killed them all – but it seemed that one of them had sent a message to Menagerie before they died.

Worse than useless. Faunus fit to be slaves. Little wonder the struggle was so futile while it was waged by such as them.

"I am no one's hound, to come when called," Adam declared.

"Then you do not work for a human?"

"I work with humans," Adam said. "Their goals and ours run alongside one another. We both desire the transformation of the world and the destruction of the societies that hold our people captive."

"You speak more like a prophet than a warrior."

"And what would you know of war, whose skills are a slave to your petty grudges?" Adam demanded. "Perhaps I am a prophet, for I have seen the future, and it belongs to us, if only we have the courage to reach out and take it!"

"This is worse than the High Leader feared," The Purifier cried. "She sent me here just in time."

"I have no need of another bomb maker," Adam declared. "I have more than enough explosive skills within the chapter to accomplish what I need."

"I am not here to make bombs for you and your delusions," The Purifier said. "The High Leader has sent me here to assume command of the Vale Chapter."

Behind his mask, Adam's eyes – burned and healthy alike – widened. "You mean to depose me? With my great work incomplete?"

"A good thing too, else I would have come too late," The Purifier said. "Your vaulting ambitions have led this chapter from one defeat to the next."

"I have stolen a Schnee's ransom in dust from under the noses of this kingdom's defenders!"

"And lost good and experienced fighters doing so, and brought the might of Atlas overhead!" The Purifier snarled. "But I will make good use of the dust, I promise you."

"How?" Adam demanded. "By cowering in fear? Or will you get back into your old habits and waste a bomb upon the Amity Princess?"

"I will ensure that those who have opposed and defied the White Fang are seen to pay for their transgressions: the Mistral princess and the Atlesians who soar so high… and Blake too."

Adam snorted. "Now who is defying the High Leader?"

"Her affection for the girl is a weakness in her, as it is in you."

"I feel no affection now," Adam retorted. "I feel only… hatred."

"So you say," the Purifier murmured. "Will you submit to me and to the authority of the High Leader?"

Adam stood silent for a moment, his hands clenching into fists at his side. He would not suffer this. He would not meekly endure to be put aside. He was not a pet for Sienna Khan to cherish one day and then grow bored with the next. He was Adam Taurus, the Sword of the Faunus, and he was on the cusp of something that would shake the kingdoms of the world. He would not step aside now. He wanted nothing more than to kill the Purifier and his men, to draw Wilt and hack them into pieces. But he had a better idea, an idea that would not necessitate him shedding the blood of brothers of the White Fang, nor risk that his followers might prefer to follow the High Leader's commands instead of his own, nor would he even have to admit weakness in front of his human allies by begging for their aid.

No, he had an idea, an excellent idea. An idea that would put his enemies to work on his behalf and blind them to the true dangers that confronted them.

At length, he smiled. "Of course I will obey," he said and dropped to one knee before the other man. "What would you have of me?"

XxXxX​

"Ah, Glynda," Ozpin said as the deputy headmistress stepped lightly out of the elevator, her heels clicking upon the floor in counterpoint to the heavy grinding of the gears above. "Thank you for coming."

"Of course, Professor," Glynda replied, her tone cool and professional. "What's this about?"

"It's about a request that I've recently received from Lieutenant Martinez of the VPD's Flying Squad," Ozpin said. "She's asking for a student team to be assigned to shadow her unit."

Glynda's eyebrows rose. "'Shadow'? For how long?"

"Indeterminate, at this stage," Ozpin replied.

Glynda pursed her lips together. "I understand that training missions are an important part of the curriculum, but that doesn't mean letting four students spend more time with the police than they do in class without any sort of end date on when they'll be back."

"Indeed, a fact I shall make clear to Lieutenant Martinez when I respond," Ozpin said, nodding his head. "Nevertheless, within certain conditions – making the basis of the shadowing incidental, on a case by case basis perhaps – I am minded to accept her request and assign her some students."

Glynda's face was disfigured by a frown. "I'm not sure that I agree with you, Professor."

"Why not?"

"For one thing, it was only a few years ago that the Flying Squad was investigated by Internal Affairs," Glynda reminded him. "If I recall, there were allegations that they were rather too close to the criminals they were supposed to be pursuing."

"You recall correctly," Ozpin said, a slight trace of a sigh entering his voice. "But I believe the investigation is closed by now, and just in case, I contacted one or two senior officers about the character of Lieutenant Martinez. Like you, I wouldn't want any of our students to be exposed to bad influences."

"And what did you hear?"

"That twenty years ago, she would have been the perfect police officer, but now, she's a relic unlikely to rise beyond her current rank," Ozpin explained.

"What was that you were saying about bad influences, professor?"

"Society marches on, of course, Glynda," Ozpin declared, "but for myself, I am not without a certain fondness for old ways, as I hope you can understand. If we were to turn our backs completely on tradition and embrace the new and the modish, then I would have to wind up this school and give over our protection wholly to James and his robots."

"I have a feeling he would be a little offended to hear you say that," Glynda murmured.

"Yes, I imagine he would," Ozpin admitted. "And he would have a right to be. Nevertheless, my point stands."

"Some things are lost when the old is thrown out," Glynda accepted, "but some things are gained, and some things, frankly, deserve to be cast aside."

"True enough," Ozpin conceded. "But… leaving aside our concerns over the content of the lieutenant's character, I can hardly refuse to assist the police when they request it, and it may be that they require it, quite seriously."

"That is unfortunately true," Glynda murmured. "Very well. I just hope they don't pick up the wrong ideas."

Ozpin chuckled. "If they do, I can think of no one better to guide them down the right path than you, Glynda."

"One of these days, Professor, flattery is not going to help you persuade me to take on an even greater workload," Glynda said sharply.

"Is that day today?" Ozpin asked, a hint of a smile playing across his features.

Glynda glared down at him from over the top of her spectacles. "No," she muttered.

"Speaking of extra workload – albeit one that you took on entirely of your own volition – how are Miss Nikos and Miss Xiao Long getting on?"

"Neither of them has room for great leaps of improvement, but I think they are both benefiting incrementally from the challenge," Glynda replied. "Miss Dash has visited me three times, trying to gain admittance for herself and Miss Polendina."

"You have refused?"

"Miss Dash doesn't fight; she brawls," Glynda sniffed. "I'm not sure what James has been teaching her, but I don't think there is anything she could learn from me."

"Is there anything that Miss Nikos or Miss Xiao Long could learn from fighting someone with a, shall we say, unclean fighting style?" Ozpin asked.

"If I admit too many students, then it becomes simply an extra combat class," Glynda replied. "Are you asking me to consider this?"

"James believes that Miss Dash has promise, as does Miss Polendina in a different way," Ozpin murmured. "If they are to step into the circle, then… any advantage you can give them would be to the good."

Glynda was silent for a moment. "I will think about it."

"That is all that I ask," Ozpin replied.

"Although, frankly, I would rather admit Miss Belladonna, now that she is out of the hospital."

"Yes, she is very impressive, isn't she?" Ozpin asked. "More impressive than I could have imagined when she was first admitted. Flawed, of course, but impressive all the same."

"She is too good for Atlas," Glynda said flatly. "They don't deserve her in the north."

"Now who is insulting James, Glynda?" Ozpin chuckled. "And when was the last time that anyone got what they truly deserved?" He paused for a moment. "I was considering Team Sapphire for this police assignment. What do you think?"

"I think that it is still too much, too soon," Glynda told him. "By the end of semester, when all teams take missions, then yes, grant Team Sapphire another, but before that? When other teams are still waiting for their first opportunity? It will be noticed, especially an assignment like this one. You know how prestigious police missions seem to the students."

Indeed, the allure of a badge was considerable. "They are the best team in their year," Ozpin pointed out.

"But not the only team," Glynda replied. "You still haven't assigned a field mission to Team Wisteria."

Ozpin paused for a moment. "Do you think they're capable of it?"

"I have seen a change in Miss Schnee lately," Glynda said. "I would not have said so before, but now? Yes, I think they are capable. More than that, I think they're ready."

Ozpin was silent for a moment. "Perhaps it would be better to hold off on Team Sapphire in case a… sensitive assignment presents itself," he murmured. "Very well. I hope that you're right about this, Glynda."

"So do I," Glynda murmured in response.

XxXxX​

"Hey, Sun," Blake said, as she sat down at one of the tables in the library. "How's Sage?"

"He's doing a lot better," Sun replied, as he sat down opposite her at the table. "What about you? How are you doing?"

Blake hesitated for a moment. With her right hand, she gripped her left sleeve; although she couldn't feel the marks of her injuries beneath the cloth wound around her arm, nevertheless, she knew that they were there. She would probably never not be aware of the fact. However, the pain was almost gone by now, she could move as freely as she had before without so much as a twinge of aching irritation.

"I'm… better," she said.

"Great!" Sun cried, a bright smile illuminating his whole face. "It's just that I was hoping, if you were better, that you might be better enough to want to come out-"

"I… I can't," Blake murmured, her tone apologetic even as she cut Sun off. "I'd like to, but I… I'm working on something at the moment. Something… with the Atlesians."

Sun, to his credit, didn't seem put out to hear that. "Anything that I can help with?"

"I'm afraid not," Blake said. "It's all very… need to know."

"Not allowed to talk about it either, then, huh?"

"No," Blake confirmed. "I've told you all I-

"Blake?!" Tukson cried, as he ran across the library towards her, his voice frantic and his expression aghast, with eyes wide and an open mouth. "Blake!"

"Tukson?" Blake replied, getting to her feet. "What's wrong?"

"I just got word from someone in the White Fang," Tukson began.

"I thought all of your contacts were dead?" Blake asked.

"So did I, but apparently, I still have a couple of friends left whom Adam hasn't gotten to yet," Tukson told her. "And one of them just got in touch."

"I take it that it isn't good news," Blake murmured.

Tukson shook his head. "It's not good news at all, Blake; The Purifier's in town."

XxXxX​

Weiss wasn't entirely sure why she had been called up to the headmaster's office, but it had to be better than the last time that she'd been here.

Of course, it didn't have to, by any rational way of looking at it, but she hoped very much that this was the case.

Not least because she'd been trying hard to do better than she had previously, and she wasn't sure what she'd do if she found out that it was all for nought and, no, she really wasn't doing any better than before.

She stepped out of the elevator, back straight and chin up, no sign of her worries or misgivings visible upon her face as she advanced towards the headmaster's desk. She held her hands straight by her sides, brushing lightly against the sash she wore around her waist. The gears of the clock cast their intermittent shadows over her as she walked forward.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?" she asked, her voice firm and even.

Professor Ozpin looked at her, a genial smile upon his face. "Yes, Miss Schnee, I did, and there's no need to worry; this isn't that sort of meeting."

"I wasn't worried, Professor."

"If you insist, Miss Schnee," Professor Ozpin replied, his tone mildly amused. Weiss wondered how he knew; her expression, posture, and tone had all been perfect. She was a Schnee; she shouldn't be that easy to read!

She cleared her throat. "What is this regarding, Professor?"

"How would you and your team like a training mission, Miss Schnee?" Professor Ozpin asked.

Given how easily Professor Ozpin had read her already, it was probably pointless of Weiss to try and keep the surprise off her face, but she did it anyway out of sheer habit. It was the same with the elation that she felt. Finally! Team WWSR was getting a mission! Although it had not been said aloud either by Professor Ozpin or, indeed, any other members of the faculty, it had not escaped the student body that assignment of a training mission served as a measure of Professor Ozpin's trust – or lack thereof – in a particular team. Teams YRDN – as it had been at the time – and SAPR, the gold star teams, had been given missions very early on in the semester, a fact which had given an official imprimatur to what the students themselves already knew: that they were the teams to beat, the teams which were set above the rest, the elite of Beacon. Other missions for other teams had dribbled in, some of them more challenging than others, but there had been none for Team WWSR or for Team BLBL, and that, too, had confirmed what everyone already knew: they were the problem teams, the screw-ups, the bottom of the pile.

Weiss had hated that, but now… now it seemed that her efforts, and the efforts of her teammates, had begun to bear fruit because they were being offered a mission!

Only two things prevented her from accepting on the spot, the first being how unprofessional it might look to accept a mission without knowing what it was. The other was that it was not only the fact of a mission, but the nature of it that indicated the faculty's trust in a team: the greater the trust, the more challenging the mission. She was, she could confess to herself, curious as to how trusted the new Team WWSR was.

"May I enquire as to the nature of the mission, Professor?" Weiss asked.

"You will be seconded to the Flying Squad of the VPD, Miss Schnee," Professor Ozpin said. "To provide back up to the detectives there, should they require it."

"I see," Weiss said softly. Service with the police was not unheard of when it came to training missions, and she had learned from the older students that it was considered a choice assignment to be given, although she confessed that she did not understand why. Still, if it was an honour to be offered, it was an honour she would gladly accept, even if she was left with questions. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the Flying Squad."

"Serious and organised crime, Miss Schnee," Professor Ozpin explained. "So-called because they operate throughout the city of Vale without being restricted by district boundaries."

"I see," Weiss murmured. "And how long will this mission last, Professor?"

"This will be a slightly unusual mission, Miss Schnee," Professor Ozpin explained. "You will work with the police when your supervisor, one Lieutenant Martinez, requests it, and in between times, you will continue your studies here at school. I should warn you that this work may take you out to class for substantial periods at a time; you must be prepared to catch up with any missing work."

"Of course, Professor, I'm perfectly willing," Weiss declared. "And so are my teammates."

"I'm glad to hear it, Miss Schnee," Professor Ozpin said. "Do you need to discuss this with your teammates?"

"I don't think that's necessary, Professor; I think I know what they'll say," Weiss said. They all, after all, wanted to be better; they had all agreed to work to be better, and this was a significant part of that, proof that their efforts up to now had not gone unnoticed or unappreciated. "I accept, and I promise we won't let you down."

XxXxX​

The lift was large enough for all four members of Team WWSR to stand side by side and even somewhat spaced out as it ground downwards towards the depths of the VPD facility.

Weiss had to admit, she'd never heard of an underground police station before, but she supposed that there must be a good reason for it. She imagined it was very secure against attack… although if that was a consideration, then that itself said something about the VPD, or at least the Flying Squad.

The details of their assignment had mandated casual dress, which meant that Flash had donned a pair of blue jeans and an unkept white t-shirt with a ragged collar and his symbol of the yellow lightning bolt on blue, with a black jacket trimmed with red and white worn over the top; while Cardin was wearing a grey turtleneck and brown corduroy trousers, with a brown jacket. Russel had discarded his vambraces and shoulder pauldron. Weiss was wearing her habitual huntress attire, because 'casual' didn't have to mean common now, did it?

As they descended underground, Weiss felt as though the weight of the earth above them was pressing down upon her with all the weight of her own expectations, threatening to crush her beneath the enormity of the many tons of them. This was her big chance. This was their big chance. This might be their only chance, if they did not take it – if they fumbled it, what was worse – how long would they have to wait to get another? Would they ever?

Certainly, it was hard to see their reputations recovering from it. They had to get this right. It was their only shot.

And they would have to work together to make the most of it.

"Forgive me if this sounds superfluous," she said, "but I want to make sure that we're all united in our desire to make a success of this, the first mission that we have been offered."

"We know that if we screw up, we're not likely to be offered another," Cardin muttered.

"That is true," Weiss said. "I'm also not sure it's enough. Not enough to want to not fail, we have to want to succeed as well. This is a great opportunity for all of us to prove our worth. We may not have been able to capture Roman Torchwick, but we will have an opportunity to apprehend serious fugitives and put our names on the map at Beacon where they belong. I hope we're all willing to work hard to make that happen."

"Don't worry," Flash assured her. "We all want this to go well as much as you do." He paused. "Maybe not quite as much, but we're all in on this."

"I'm just amazed that I'm going into a police station voluntarily," Russell said. "What would the folks back home say if they could see me now, going to work for the fuzz?"

Weiss chuckled, as did Flash and Cardin, the tension in the elevator – the tension that Weiss, at least, had been feeling – dissipating like a dead beowolf turning to smoke and ashes.

"Thank you," she said. "All of you. Police assignments are highly sought after; I'm sure that we wouldn't have been trusted by Professor Ozpin like this if it weren't for the improvement that you've all demonstrated recently. Now we just have to try and build off that."

The elevator ground to a halt, and the yellow door rose above them, disappearing from view to reveal a spacious area, well-lit by lights hanging from the grated ceiling, interrupted by a few desks with computers set up, leading to a set of large screens taking up most of the rear wall. A pair of staircases led upwards to places that could not, from the elevator, be seen, while doors in the side and rear walls promised further locations within. Uniformed officers in tactical gear with rifles and submachine guns guarded the only way down into the room – although none of them troubled Team WWSR, presumably because the officers up top had already verified their ID and issued them the badges they wore on lanyards around their necks – while all of the people at the desks or moving between them were in plain clothes of varying degrees of quality and various states of dishevelment.

As Team WWSR stepped out of the elevator, Weiss' attention was drawn at once to the horse faunus woman, her tail emerging out of the pants of her dark pantsuit, who was standing not too far away arguing with a slightly swarthy man with a red kerchief around his neck.

"An illegal card game, are you kidding me?"

"I was only-"

"It's illegal!" the faunus woman snapped. "We're officers of the law! We may bend the rules sometimes, but we don't pee all over them just to make money! Any more of this crap, and I'll turn you in to IA myself, understand?"

The man, though he was taller than she was and broader in the shoulders too, took a step back. "Sure thing, El-Tee. I got it."

"Good," the woman – El-Tee – growled. "Now get out of my sight."

He scurried off, while she remained in place for a moment that lasted right up until she noticed the four young huntsmen of Team WWSR. She turned to face them, making a visible attempt to banish the black fury from off her face. "Great," she said, the forced enthusiasm clashing against the sincere weariness in her voice. "You must be the students."

Weiss curtsied. "Team Wisteria of Beacon Academy at your service, ma'am."

"Okay, first of all, don't call me 'ma'am.' I'm old, but I'm not that old yet. My name is Lieutenant DJ Martinez of the VPD, and you can call me Lieutenant or El-Tee until I give you permission to call me something else." The Lieutenant was pale, with hooded eyes and ducky lips that seemed set in a sort of permanent pout; her hair was long and light brown, matching the tail that descended towards the floor. "Second, cut out all of that fancy frou frou stuff; we don't do that here. This isn't the military, this isn't a fancy party, so no salutes, no… whatever that was; just do as you're told quickly and efficiently, and we'll get on great, understand?"

"Perfectly, Lieutenant," Weiss replied.

"Awesome," Lieutenant Martinez said. "In that case, and without further ado, welcome to the Basement. This is Flying Squad headquarters." She turned around and began to walk towards the opposite wall, leaving the students to follow behind her. "Do you know what it is we do here?"

"Organised crime?" Flash ventured.

"We fight against the worst scum in Vale, and we stand between them and ordinary, law-abiding citizens," Lieutenant Martinez declared. "Everybody listen up: these are the huntsmen that Beacon has provided us. Give everybody your names so that they know what to yell when they need you."

"Weiss Schnee, the leader of Team Wisteria."

"Cardin Winchester."

"Flash Sentry."

"Russel Thrush."

"Awesome," Lieutenant Martinez repeated. "Everyone else will introduce themselves to you when they need something. You'll get a tour of the place some other time, but right now, we have work to do." She looked up at the blank screens attached to the rear wall. "Assuming that we can actually bring anything up," she added, gesturing to an empty desk with a particularly complex computer set-up. "Where the hell is Koren?"

"He called in sick, boss," replied a young detective, barely any older than Weiss and the other students, with long, light brown hair reaching down to just past his shoulders.

"Great," Lieutenant Martinez muttered, her tail flicking irritably to the right. "Just great. Does anybody here know how to work a computer?"

Russel raised his hand tremulously. "Uh, I know a little bit?"

Lieutenant Martinez looked at him with only vague incredulity. "Really? Well, be my guest."

Russel scampered across the Basement to stand in front of the desk and the computer perched upon it. "Um, what is it that you want me to do?"

"I want you to take the scroll plugged into your terminal and put the call it's plugged into up onto the board," Lieutenant Martinez, gesturing up at the big screens.

"Is that all?" Russel asked incredulously.

The lieutenant's only response to that was a glare that would have melted the glaciers of northernmost Solitas. Russel ducked, swallowing. "I mean, um, that, uh, that's a very complicated process; I'm not surprised that it gave you some trouble, uh, give me one, second."

He started tapping at the keyboard, hiding his face behind the dual monitors as he did so, until the screens flashed up above them with the face of Blake Belladonna.

"Blake?" Weiss said.

Blake blinked. "Weiss? What are you-?"

"Your school friends are here to help me out with some police work," Lieutenant Martinez said. "Miss Belladonna, meanwhile, is here because she never was a White Fang scumbag after all but a pure as snow Atlesian patriot with a lot of useful info from her days undercover." She gave a very strained smile. "Ain't that right?"

Blake did not immediately respond. Weiss could hardly blame her. In her position, she would have struggled to respond herself.

She glanced at Cardin, who looked as if he wished to be a little smaller and less noticeable than he was. Weiss could hardly blame him in the circumstances, all things considered.

Blake seemed to have decided to deal with all of the awkwardness by ploughing on as though it did not exist. She cleared her throat. "I have received word from a source in the White Fang that a skilled bombmaker had arrived in Vale. We call him The Purifier."

"Does he have a real name?" Lieutenant Martinez demanded. "A name we can actually look for?"

"I'm afraid that I don't know it," Blake admitted. "Or what he looks like."

"If you don't know his name or his face, then how do you know that he's even real?" Cardin demanded.

"Because someone blew up the airship carrying Chestnut Magnifico and Canter Zoom home from Argus, and someone gutted the Atlesian military facility at Crystal City-"

"Crystal City?" Flash repeated. "Did you say Crystal City? That was him? That guy is here in Vale now?"

Lieutenant Martinez whirled around, her mouth opening but no words emerged, at least not for a few moments, and when they did come, her tone was soft. "This mean something to you, kid?"

Flash clenched his jaw. "My… my father," he said, as though he had to force the words out. "He was… one of those killed in the Crystal City bombing."

"Flash," Weiss murmured, placing one hand upon his shoulder.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Lieutenant Martinez said quietly. "Really, that… no kid deserves to grow up without their parents." Her voice began to rise and assumed a more professional tone as she said, "Unfortunately, it's beginning to look like those incidents are about the only things we know about our suspect."

"Are we sure that there is a suspect?" Cardin asked.

"I didn't imagine the bomb that killed my father," Flash snapped.

"I never said you did, but that doesn't mean that both bombs were the work of some bogeyman with no name-"

"Even if the White Fang have just sent an ordinary bomb maker, isn't that bad enough?" Blake demanded. "I didn't go to the Atlesians to tell them a ghost story, and that's not why they told me to pass this on to you; it's because I'm worried that people are going to die."

"If I didn't get that, I wouldn't be listening to you," Lieutenant Martinez reassured her. "Is there anything, anything at all, that you can tell us about this guy?"

Blake thought for a moment. "Not a lot is known about The Purifier, but the rumours say that he used to work for the SDC, in one of the dust refineries. Apparently, that's where he learned how to manipulate dust. Also apparently, there was some kind of accident that left him injured… and seeking revenge."

"What was that about no ghost stories?" Cardin muttered.

"I'd like to say that you've been helpful, but… you haven't," Lieutenant Martinez said to Blake. "Still, thanks for the tip. We'll take it from here." She gestured for Russel to cut off the call, which he did, before she turned to face the huntsmen. "So, there we have it: our target is The Purifier. We don't know his name, we don't know what he looks like, we don't even know if he really exists, but we do know that the White Fang is sitting on top of a hell of a lot of dust, and if they have brought a bomb maker to my city, then we are going to find him, and we are going to bring him in, dead or alive, because no more children are going to grow up without their parents because of this bastard. Not on my watch. Understand?"

"We'll do whatever you ask," Flash declared. "Whatever it takes."

"If he really did work for the SDC, then we could start by checking the company personnel records," Weiss suggested. "Maybe if we cross-reference known refinery accidents against employees leaving the company, we can narrow down a list of possible suspects."

"If we had the personnel records; the SDC doesn't give up that stuff without a fight," Lieutenant Martinez argued. "We'd need to get the consulate in Atlas to approach a judge to give us a court order for-"

"I can get hold of them," Weiss declared. "Today. Right now."

"Really? I know you're the boss's daughter, but-"

"Really," Weiss confirmed. "I guarantee it."

Lieutenant Martinez nodded. "Okay. You do that. You, Russel, help her go through the records. You boys, come with me." She began to stride towards the elevator.

"Where are we going?" Cardin asked.

"To do some old school police work," Lieutenant Martinez replied.

XxXxX​

Cardin was grateful that the faunus cop for which he had found himself working hadn't yet recognised him as the incredible racist who had been caught on tape supporting the genocide of all faunus, but he wasn't inclined to push his luck further than he had to, and so he allowed Flash to get into the front passenger seat of the black SUV while he got in the back.

The lieutenant was a faunus. He took a degree of comfort from the fact that this didn't upset him. It surprised him, whatever that meant for good or ill, but it didn't offend his sensibilities. She was a faunus, yes, but she also seemed like a decent person; she'd been quick enough to express her sympathies to Flash when she found out about his connection to this, and she wanted to stop the White Fang with no apologies for them or suggestions that they might have a point. She was…

Cardin would have said that she was one of the good ones, except… except looking at it, he was having a hard time thinking of nearly as many bad ones as good ones. Blake Belladonna and Sunset Shimmer were the only two who really came to mind as 'the bad ones,' and he was not so lacking in self-awareness not to realise that he had provoked Sunset more than a little and that Blake was at that very moment acting as an informant for them. Against that, there were Silverstream, Terramar... their father was a pretty decent guy as well, and an officer in the Defence Force to boot; Velvet Scarlatina had put up with more from Cardin than he had a right to expect, and now the lieutenant too.

There's still the White Fang.

And there are still all the faunus who aren't in the White Fang.

The lieutenant's brown eyes were reflected in the rear-view mirror as she looked at him. "So, you're the racists, huh?"

Neither Cardin nor Flash said anything. So she had known, after all.

"That's right," Lieutenant Martinez said. "I recognised your names. So if taking orders from a faunus is going to be a problem, you can go back to Beacon-"

"No!" Cardin cried quickly, before Flash could say anything. Screwing up this mission – their first chance to really make their mark – would be bad enough, but getting kicked to the curb before the mission had even started would be even worse! Team WWSR would be the laughing stock of the whole school, and it would be all his fault. He would have let all of his teammates down, and he didn't want that after they had just started to come together. "It won't be a problem," he assured her.

"Really?" Lieutenant Martinez said. "Because on that tape, it sounded like you want me dead."

Cardin winced. "That… what I said… it doesn't reflect what I really think. It's complicated, but-"

"I don't think it's that complicated," Lieutenant Martinez cut him off. "In fact, let me tell you what I think. I think that Blake Belladonna never was any Atlesian agent; I think she was White Fang, plain and simple. I think you knew that, and you didn't like it, so you and your lady friend decided to run your mouths hoping to provoke a reaction out of her. Only you came out of it looking worse than she did."

Cardin frowned. "How did you-?"

"I've been a cop for twenty years; I can smell bull from right across the city," Lieutenant Martinez interrupted. "And I've been involved in enough undercover operations to know that, sometimes, you say something you don't mean." She paused. "I also know that you were a colossal idiot."

Cardin bowed his head. "I know," he muttered.

"I get it," Lieutenant Martinez said. "I could name more than a dozen guys in this city who I know are guilty as sin, but I also know that I've got nothing on 'em, and I'm not going to get anything on them by walking into their houses trying to goad them into hitting me."

"So what do you do?" Flash asked.

"I keep my eyes on them, and I wait for them to make a mistake," Lieutenant Martinez said. She glanced at Flash. "And what about you? You hate the people who killed your father?"

"The faunus didn't kill my father," Flash said softly.

Lieutenant Martinez took a moment to reply. "Okay," she murmured. "Okay," she repeated, louder and more firmly. "I'm going to trust you, all of you, but if you do try and kill me… don't try to kill me; it won't end well for you."

Cardin snorted. "You've got nothing to worry about with us."

"Lieutenant," Flash said tentatively. "Why are you taking the two of us with you and not your partner or any other detective?"

Lieutenant Martinez tightened her grip on the steering wheel of the car. "Do you know where they're holding Roman Torchwick?"

"On board the Atlesian flagship," Cardin replied.

"Right. Exactly. The Atlesians are holding him aboard their ship because the last time the VPD had him in custody, he got out again within the next hour. And the time after that, he got into a fight with a couple of Beacon students, and they heard him talking about dirty cops." Lieutenant Martinez frowned. "This squad… let me tell you something about the Flying Squad: we're not huntsmen, but we fight monsters, except the monsters we fight aren't so obvious as the ones that you kids are training to go up against. They wear human faces, and they hide in the shadows, which means that we have to live in the shadows right alongside them. You won't find any knights in shining armour here. We rely on human sources of intelligence; you know what that means?"

"Informants," Flash said.

"Exactly, we rely on people willing to talk to us, and yes, they are often criminals. We let things slide from the small fry in exchange for intel to help us land the big fish. It's a line… one that not all cops manage to stay on. If Torchwick really has bought cops, then I can't guarantee that some of the cops he's bought aren't down in the Basement. I have one rookie down there I trust absolutely. And I've got you." She smirked. "Worried?"

"Determined," Flash said. "We won't let you down, lieutenant."

"Damn straight you won't," said Lieutenant Martinez as she started to reverse out of the parking lot.

Cardin hastily fastened his seat belt. "So, where are we going?"

"It takes more than dust to make a bomb," Lieutenant Martinez explained. "Sure, you can make an explosion with just dust, but that's not the kind of thing you bring in a bomb maker for. You need other elements to make an actual bomb, at least a good one. I don't know where you'd come by that stuff, but I know a guy who might."

She drove them to a parking lot about an hour's drive across the city from the Basement and then led them on foot a block or so to a seedy-looking pawn shop in a street otherwise taken up with betting shops, off-licences, and 24-hour bars. The sign above the store was so dirty that Cardin couldn't make out what it actually said, but from the confident way that Lieutenant Martinez walked in, it seemed like there was no doubt this was the place she was looking for.

"Do you have any idea how this place is going to help us catch a master bomber?" Cardin whispered to Flash as they trailed after the detective.

"Not a clue," Flash muttered. "I just hope we're not wasting our time."

"Pay attention, and you'll find out how this is going to help," Lieutenant Martinez lectured. She looked at them. "I have a tail instead of ears, but that doesn't make me deaf."

"Of course not, Lieutenant," Flash said. "I just-"

"Want to catch the bastard who killed your old man, I get it," Lieutenant Martinez replied. "But I've been doing this for longer than you've been alive, and I know what I'm doing. So trust me, okay."

"Yes, Lieutenant. I'm sorry."

"Now when we get in there," Lieutenant Martinez said. "Keep your mouths shut and your eyes and ears open, okay? This is how we do things in the Squad."

She turned and led the way inside the pawn shop, the inside of which looked exactly as seedy and down at heel as the outside, with cracks in the glass of the cabinets and a musty smell in the air. Standing behind one of the counters was a small little man, balding on top of his head, with dirty spectacles perched upon his nose and a stained brown overcoat engulfing his diminutive form. He looked up as the tinkling of the bell announced their arrival, and instantly, a whimper escaped his lips.

"M-Missus Martinez," he stammered in a thin and reedy voice. "H-how lovely to see you again."

"Great to see you too, Petey," Lieutenant Martinez said. "Flash, flip that sign on the door over to 'closed'."

The shopkeeper, Petey or Pete or Peter or whatever his real name was, blanched visibly. "There's no need for that, Missus Martinez!"

"What? I just want to make sure we're not disturbed," Lieutenant Martinez said. "Don't look at me like that, Petey, that hurts; I thought we were buddies. I thought we had a special relationship. The kind of relationship where I don't bust your ass for handling stolen goods because you give me tips on all the crooks who come through here."

Pete trembled visibly. "If some people knew I was talking to the cops, they'd chop me up into little pieces."

"And none of those people will ever find out so long as you make it worth my while to keep it a secret," Lieutenant Martinez said. "Flash, get the door."

"Right," Flash murmured and flipped the sign over; he locked the door as well for good measure.

Pete swallowed. "What, uh, what can I help you with, Missus Martinez?"

Lieutenant Martinez advanced towards the cracked and badly cleaned counter. "What do you know about explosives?"

"Now, you know me, Ma'am," Pete said. "You know I don't touch nothing like that. No guns, no bombs; I'm not a violent man. I… I'm a lover, not a fighter."

"Uh huh," Lieutenant Martinez said sceptically. "And how is Missus Hoffman?"

"She's having an affair with the bloody milkman," Pete muttered.

"Really? That's rough. Just don't kill him, or I'll have to bring you in," Lieutenant Martinez said. She leaned forwards, her elbows resting on the counter top. "You know, you've been good to me, Petey. If you help me out, I could help you out. Have one of my boys go around and make a few things clear to Mister Milkman." She glanced at Cardin over her shoulder, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Look at him, look at how big he is; I think he could intimidate just about anyone, don't you?"

Pete looked at Cardin with a gaze that was in equal parts apprehensive and eager. "You… you'd really do that for me?"

"Sure I would," Lieutenant Martinez agreed. "You're part of the team. Explosives."

"I wish I could help, but-"

"I know that you don't deal in bombs, believe me; if you did, you and I wouldn't be having such a nice and cosy conversation," Lieutenant Martinez said. "But I know that you know all the gangs, and I know that some of them use explosives so: where do they go for their gear?"

Pete hesitated. "And you'll help me out, with my wife?"

"If you give me something worth rewarding you for," Lieutenant Martinez said pointedly. "If not… sometimes it takes a lot of effort not to talk too much."

"Dressinger," Pete said quickly. "Leo Dressinger, that's who I know. Owns a firework shop and sells a different kind of bang out the back. He can get you what you need: dust, detonators, the works. He'll put it together if you pay extra. That's what I've heard anyway. You know, not that I ever asked how much it would cost for a bomb that would blow up a milk float or nothing."

"Don't do it, Petey," Lieutenant Martinez warned him. "I let a lot slide from you, but I won't let you get away with murder."

"I know that, Missus Martinez, but a fella can dream, can't he?"

"Where can we find this Leo Dressinger?"

XxXxX​

Weiss sat on a stool at the same desk at which Russel was sat, tapping out her requirements on her scroll with both thumbs.

She became aware of Russel craning his neck to see what she was doing over her shoulder.

Weiss sighed. "Russel?"

"Yeah?"

"We are teammates; you can just ask me what I'm doing."

"Right. Sorry. So, what are you doing?"

"I'm specifying my needs so that I can just plug in my scroll and have all the files downloaded to it without having to explain it verbally," Weiss explained. "Let's see, personnel records including termination dates, dates of industrial accidents… disciplinary records; I doubt someone jumps to making bombs without being written up at least once for their attitude."

"Just because someone's a bit of an ass at work doesn't make them a terrorist, though," Russel countered. "I mean, look at Cardin."

"True," Weiss conceded. "Very true. But we're not looking to arrest someone based on this information, just… create a pool of suspects."

"Okay," Russel said quietly. "So, do you really think you can get all of this stuff?"

Weiss looked at him over her shoulder. "For better or worse, I am the boss's daughter."

"Yeah, but you're also still a kid," Russel reminded her in turn.

"A kid who might complain to her daddy if she doesn't get what she wants," Weiss said. As far as they know, anyway. She would have liked to think it was a misconception on their part, born out of her father's success in keeping his domestic troubles out of the public eye, but the truth was… that was exactly what she had done, wasn't it? 'Daddy, Daddy, fix my public image!' The truth… the truth was that if she needed to, she would go to him again, for this, so important was it that they make a good showing here.

Hopefully, that would not be necessary.

She hopped down off the stool, all her requirements specified, and looked around the Basement. Most of the officers were several years older than her, and between the way they ignored her and what Lieutenant Martinez had said in her brief introduction, Weiss got the impression that they would not appreciate being disturbed. The young detective who had informed the lieutenant that their regular computer person was off sick seemed the most approachable, so Weiss walked towards him, her heels tapping.

"Excuse me," she said, in a tone the politeness of which verged upon apologetic. "I'm sorry to disturb you-"

"That's quite alright, Weiss," he said. "That is, if I may call you Weiss," he added hastily. "We're pretty informal around here, but I don't know what it's like up at Beacon."

"Weiss will be fine," she assured him. "When in Mistral, as they say."

He chuckled. "Yes," he said. "Great. Sorry, you were, I mean it's no trouble at all; you're doing more work than I am right now. But you were saying?"

"I was wondering if there is anywhere private I can make a call to SDC headquarters to get the information we require," Weiss said.

"Of course," he said. "This way." He gestured towards a door behind her, walking over to it and opening it to reveal a corridor that could have done with being better lit, with exposed pipes running along the right hand wall. "This corridor leads to the emergency exit," he explained. "It's a set of stairs leading aboveground, really, with a door that can only be opened from the inside. But there are also a couple of rooms where you can video call without it being obvious that you're in a police HQ. For undercover work, you know. I'm Mallard, by the way, Mallard Carter, Detective Mallard Carter."

Weiss smiled. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Detective Carter."

"Mallard, please," he said. "As I said, we're quite informal here." He stopped outside a grey door with a metal handle. "Here we are," he said, opening said door.

The room within was completely black, the walls having been painted that way in paint so thick that all trace of the brick beneath had been concealed. The only light was red, casting the room in a hostile glow. A terminal sat on a desk against the wall; it and the chair to sit on were the only furniture within.

"Cosy," Weiss murmured.

"Sorry," Mallard said. "It's the best we've got, I'm afraid."

"It will be fine," Weiss said. "This won't take long." I hope not, anyway.

"I'll wait outside," Mallard said, and as Weiss entered the gloomy and forbidding room, he shut the door behind her.

Weiss managed to find her way to the chair and sat down in it, placing her scroll on the desk beside her. Activating the terminal, she was confronted with an array of call backgrounds, ranging from a suburban sitting room to an exterior street to a rough-looking bedsit. Weiss considered for a moment, finally landing on the one that, to her eyes, looked like a library, with a lot of books stacked on shelves behind her.

That done, she called SDC World Headquarters in Atlas.

Hopefully, she could get this done without having to involve her father – or without him being informed by an employee. She thought it was unlikely – Jacques Schnee tended to take a big picture view of the affairs of his vast corporation, refusing to be mired in trivialities – but not impossible. If he found out… he would probably not be happy. There was a reason she wasn't about to approach him directly; there would be a price for his help, as there always was.

With a little good fortune, all of that could be avoided.

A face appeared on the monitor, a young woman with chestnut brown hair cropped to just above the shoulders, with the Schnee snowflake upon a blue background rotating slowly behind her. "Thank you for contacting the Schnee Dust-" She looked up, brown eyes widening in surprise. "Miss Schnee! Good afternoon! I'm afraid Mister Schnee is in a board meeting right now, but I can inform him if this is an urgent matter-"

"That won't be necessary," Weiss said quickly; not only would it entangle Weiss in ways that she did not wish, but it would also probably get this poor girl in trouble for the interruption. "I'm aware that my father is a busy man; I don't want to disturb him."

"Of course, Miss Schnee; shall I inform him that you called?"

"That won't be necessary either," Weiss said. "I just need some information. I've compiled a list of the files I require." She plugged in her scroll to the terminal.

"I'm receiving your request now, Miss Schnee," the young woman on the other end of the line said. Her eyes widened just a little. "May I ask why you need this information, Miss Schnee?"

"It's for… a school assignment," Weiss said, and it wasn't even completely false. "One that I need to do well in, and to do well, I need this information."

"Some of this information is… I'm sorry, Miss Schnee, but some of these records are confidential. I can't just distribute them outside the company."

"I see," Weiss murmured. She hesitated for a moment. "Very well. I would like to speak to my father, please."

The young woman answering her call gasped. "Wait just one moment, Miss Schnee, if you'll just let me double check our data protection policy… ah! I'm so sorry, I misread…" She mumbled something too quietly for Weiss to make out. "Please, accept my apologies; I'm downloading all of the data you requested to your scroll now." She looked directly into Weiss' eyes. "Please don't mention this to Mister Schnee; I need this job. If I lose it, I'll have to move back to Mantle to live with my parents."

She thinks I'm going to get her fired, Weiss realised. That had not, honestly, been in her mind – she had been about to ask her father for another favour – but looking back, she could see how the poor girl had gotten that impression. She felt sickened at the idea that people thought she was capable of that kind of petty cruelty, and even more sick that she couldn't deny the fact and risk losing the girl's cooperation. "Thank you," she said. "In that case, that will be all."

The other girl blinked. "You mean you don't need to speak to Mister Schnee?"

"No," Weiss said. "That's no longer necessary."

The young woman sagged with relief. "Thank you, Miss Schnee. Have a nice day."

As Weiss hung up and extracted her scroll, it didn't feel like a particularly nice day.

Still, she had what she needed. She just hoped it was worth it.

XxXxX​

Rather than walking any distance, this time, Lieutenant Martinez pulled up right outside the fireworks store, mounting the kerb with two wheels of the SUV and managing to line up the driver's side door directly with the front door of the shop itself.

The shop was called Sparkle with Flare, and it was both in a much better neighbourhood than the pawnshop they'd just visited – around here, most of the neighbouring shops were chain retailers, with the immediate neighbours being a bookstore and a middle class boutique. Sparkle itself was better maintained than the pawnshop, with clean windows displaying a dazzling array of fireworks popping with colour.

Cardin would never in a million years have expected that a place like this would also be a haunt of organised crime.

"It doesn't seem right, does it?" Flash murmured.

Lieutenant Martinez looked at him. "Why not?"

Flash hesitated. "Well… because…"

"Come on, say it," Lieutenant Martinez instructed. "It's because this is a nice part of town, isn't it?"

Flash bowed his head. "Yeah."

"You never know what's happening behind a closed door until you kick it down," Lieutenant Martinez said. "Like I told you, the monsters that we fight don't always look the part."

Somebody's stomach rumbled loudly.

"That wasn't me," Cardin said quickly, although the truth was that he was feeling pretty hungry. They'd skipped lunch in order to get started on their big break mission, and he, for one, was starting to regret it.

"No, it was me," Lieutenant Martinez admitted. "With this bomb threat, I haven't exactly had time to eat." She leaned over, across Flash, to open up the glove box. She pulled out a bright red lollipop, which she started to unwrap. "You boys want one?"

"No thanks," Flash murmured.

"Can I take one for later?" Cardin asked. He wasn't sure how it would look to go and talk to the suspect sucking on a lollipop – not that that idea seemed to bother the lieutenant – but he was hungry.

Lieutenant Martinez nodded, and Flash handed him a green lollipop that he tucked into a pouch he wore on his red sash.

"I started carrying these around for my kids," Lieutenant Martinez explained. "I ended up getting a taste for them myself." She unwrapped the lollipop and stuck it into her mouth, with the straw sticking out like a toothpick. "Okay," she said. "Let's see what Mister Dressinger has to say for himself."

They got out of the car and entered the store, where fireworks lined the walls in rows, rockets bulging on top of long metal poles, with fuses wrapped in rubber to prevent premature ignition. Behind the counter stood a man in a loud red shirt, with lions and lionesses frolicking upon it, wearing a chunky gold watch and gold chains around his neck.

"Afternoon, fellas," he said affably, although not without a hint of wariness. "Can I help you?"

"I hope so," Lieutenant Martinez said as she sauntered towards him. "Leo Dressinger?"

He nodded. "That's right."

"You want me to get the door again?" Flash asked.

"Good boy, learning fast; that's what I like to see," Lieutenant Martinez replied.

Dressinger's golden eyes bulged a little as Flash closed and locked the door. "What is this?"

"This is me asking you about bombs," Martinez said. "Had any customers lately?"

Dressinger swallowed. "Now listen," he said. "Just because you can afford a couple of huntsman bodyguards don't mean that you can go around asking questions like that. I've got friends-"

"Yeah, I know the kind of friends you have," Lieutenant Martinez said. "Trust me, they're not as tough as you think you are."

"And who the hell are you?"

"I'm the Flying Squad, and I haven't had my dinner," Lieutenant Martinez said. "So unless you want a kicking, you'll tell me everything I want to know."

Leo Dressinger stared at her for a moment. Then he turned and bolted out the back door, slamming it behind him.

"Always run," Lieutenant Martinez muttered. She turned an exasperated glare on Flash and Cardin. "What are you waiting for, an invitation?"

Cardin was the first off the mark, reaching the counter in swift strides and vaulting smoothly over it. He tried the door. It was locked, so he took a step back before bulling into it, shoulder first. The lock yielded before his strength, the door flying open as he staggered through it into a white, tile-floored corridor, half obstructed with boxes full of stock, down which Leo Dressinger was fleeing.

"Hey!" Cardin yelled as he chased after him, his own legs pounding on the tiles. "Stop!"

Dressinger looked behind him, fear on his face, before he continued to run. Cardin could hear Flash's feet pattering behind him as he forced himself to run faster, closing the distance upon their quarry. Dressinger started pulling down piles of boxes as he ran, obstructing the path behind him, forcing him to take more care of where he stepped as Dressinger reached the fire exit at the back and burst out into the street behind the store.

Cardin emerged a few seconds later and had to look around to see Dressinger heading west. He resumed the chase, not knowing or caring if Flash or the lieutenant were behind him. He yelled for people to get out of his way, and as Dressinger pushed an old lady to the ground to clear his own path, Cardin ignored them. Someone else would help them out; his only focus was on the quarry.

He felt like he was gaining. Dressinger crossed into the street-

A black SUV, tires screeching, came around the corner and hit Dressinger hard enough to knock him off his feet and send him rolling six feet down the road. He came to a stop, moaning in pain as he lay upon the tarmac.

The car door opened, and Lieutenant Martinez stepped out. "Great job, boys," she said. "Couldn't have done it without you." She looked past Cardin. "Flash, is she okay?"

Cardin looked over his shoulder to see Flash helping the old woman whom Dressinger had knocked down back on her feet.

"I think so," Flash said. "You don't need me to call an ambulance, do you, ma'am?"

"Oh, no, dear," she said. "You're very kind, but I'll be fine now I'm back on my feet and that ruffian is off his."

Lieutenant Martinez smirked as she crossed the street to where Dressinger lay on the ground.

Dressinger groaned. "I think I broke some ribs."

"I'll break more than that if you don't tell me what I want to know," Lieutenant Martinez growled, bending down to grab him by the arm and the scruff of the neck, hauling him to his feet. "Leo Dressinger, you're under arrest and coming with me."

XxXxX​

Weiss ran towards the elevator door as it began to open, her side ponytail flying behind her. "Lieutenant!" she cried, as she saw the lieutenant emerge from out of the lift with Flash, Cardin, and a slightly bruised and beaten-up looking man held between the two boys. Weiss paused for a moment, before rallying quickly to say, "We think we have a name for The Purifier."

Lieutenant Martinez stared at her for a moment. "Yuma," she said. "Take this scumbag to the Cage; I'll be there in a minute."

"Sure thing, El-Tee," Yuma, the tall man whom Weiss had seen the lieutenant arguing with earlier when they arrived, muttered and strode across the squadroom floor to take the suspect off Flash and Cardin's hands, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and dragging him towards one of the sets of stairs. The suspect, for his part, did not resist. That seemed very wise of him.

Lieutenant Martinez walked forwards, with Flash and Cardin trailing after her like faithful hounds. "Go on," she said sharply.

Weiss gestured towards the screens at the back of the room, where Russel was bringing up the photograph of a handsome-looking man in his early twenties, whose black hair had an almost velvet quality to it and whose eyes were a striking red against his pale skin. "This," she said, "is Krot Krasny, a mole faunus. At the time this photograph was taken, he was employed by the SDC in the refinery at Crystal City. The mines there were tapped out some years ago, but the city authorities for a long time subsidised the SDC to keep the refinery operational to preserve jobs… until eight years ago, when a fire broke out and swept through the entire plant."

"Arson?" Lieutenant Martinez asked.

"More likely, it was aging equipment that wasn't being maintained properly," Weiss murmured. "My father might keep the plant open, but he wouldn't invest in it in those circumstances."

Lieutenant Martinez looked at her, eyebrows rising slightly.

"I'm my father's daughter, not his publicist," Weiss explained.

Lieutenant Martinez smirked. "Don't mind me. Go on. Krot Krasny."

"Krot Krasny was one of the workers injured in the fire… and one of those laid off when the SDC shut down the facility in the wake of the fire," Weiss went on. "According to the records, he suffered severe burns."

"'One of'?" Lieutenant Martinez repeated. "What makes you think he's our guy?"

"Because he had a disciplinary record," Weiss went on. "Before the fire, he'd been written up twice for a bad attitude."

"That can't be unique either," Flash said.

"No," Weiss allowed. "But Krot Krasny arrived in Vale just five days ago, and it might have taken that long for Blake's contact to learn he was here. Krasny used his own passport to get through security."

"Pretty ballsy move, not trying to hide," Cardin growled.

"He doesn't need to hide; nobody knows who he is," Lieutenant Martinez explained. "That's the point of this game with The Purifier; he hides behind a name and a myth, and meanwhile, Krot Krasny gets to go about his business, a law-abiding citizen. Using his own ID was smart; using a fake could see him get picked up, get a lot of questions asked that could lead to his criminal activities. Do we have surveillance of him at the airport?"

"We got lucky," Russel said, his fingers flying across the keyboard as the screen was consumed by video from an airport security camera. "According to the time of the video and when his passport was logged, this is our guy."

To say that he looked different from the handsome man in the photograph would have been an understatement. His hands were gone, replaced by a pair of cybernetic hands protruding from out of the sleeves of a black hoodie. The hood was down, if only temporarily, for he put it back up again as soon as he had cleared customs, but while it was down, it revealed a head that had been consumed by fire; the velvety hair was gone, and in its place, only the burned flesh, melted and cracked and malformed, remained.

On the video, Krasny snarled at a young child who had stared too long, throwing up his hood and reaching into his bag for something that they couldn't see because he passed out of sight of the camera.

Lieutenant Martinez folded his arms. "Okay," she said. "Okay, I can buy that's our guy."

Flash frowned. "Crystal City," he growled. "He went back for his revenge."

"It's beginning to look that way," Weiss murmured.

"Do we know where he went?" Flash demanded.

"Nobody's required to give up that sort of information," Lieutenant Martinez said. "And even if they were, just because he's using his real name doesn't mean he'd necessarily give the right address. Still, good work, you two; at least we're chasing a man now, not a ghost. Do you have any paper copies of those photos?"

"Here," Russel said, holding up a folder with print-outs of all the information; Mallard had warned them that Lieutenant Martinez preferred to deal in hard copy.

"Thanks," Lieutenant Martinez said, snatching the folder out of Russel's hand. "I'm going to go question our guy; you four can watch if you want. The Cage is upstairs." She gave them no more instructions than that but turned and made her way towards the same staircase up which Yuma had dragged the guy that Martinez, Flash, and Cardin had brought in. Cardin barely hesitated before he followed after her.

Russel hopped off his seat. "Are you coming?" he asked.

"In a moment," Weiss said quietly, her attention fixed upon Flash. She felt, rather than saw, Russel walk around behind her and follow Cardin and the Lieutenant.

Flash didn't look at Weiss. His eyes were fixed on the screens above, upon the images of the man who had... who might have... who they thought had killed his father.

Weiss looked at him not looking at her. It was subtle, but it seemed to her as though his whole body was shaking.

"How… how did it go out there?" Weiss asked, deciding to ease in to what she really wanted to talk about.

Flash's brow furrowed. "We learned something, I suppose," he said. "I can't say we added much."

"It's our first day."

"You seem to have made a good impression," Flash replied.

Weiss didn't acknowledge that; privately, she thought so too, but now wasn't the time for bragging. She wanted to reach out to Flash physically but worried that he might not appreciate it right now, and so she settled for saying, "And… how are you?"

Flash turned away from her, walking across the squad room to the far wall, resting one hand against the breeze block and leaning hard upon it. Weiss followed after him, her shoulder almost touching the wall as she stood where she could see his face. His head was bowed, and his eyes were closed, his blue orbs invisible.

"I never thought about the person who did it," he admitted. "It was always the White Fang that had killed my father, never a man. It was the group – not the faunus, not like that – but… it was almost a mass of them. A group in masks and hoods. I never thought about the person who had built the bomb, who had planted it, detonated it. And now… now, I have a name, a face… I'm not a good person, Weiss."

Weiss frowned. "What in Remnant are you talking about?"

"I know that I should feel sorry for that guy, for what he went through," Flash explained. "I know that I should… but I don't. I don't care. All that I can see when I look at those pictures is that he's the reason… and a part of me wants to ask him why, and another part of me is terrified to find out the answer."

Weiss was silent for a moment. "When I would hear about White Fang attacks on the SDC," she said, "when my father would come home in a foul temper because of some new incident… I used to want to ask them if it was worth it. I used to want to ask if what they achieved was worth the suffering they caused. And yes, I counted having to live with my father in a bad mood as suffering, but I don't think that makes me a bad person. Or at least, I hope it doesn't. Just like I don't think you're a bad person either. You're one of the best people I know: kind, compassionate, brave. You had reason to grow up hating the faunus, but you didn't. But I think you're allowed to hate the man who killed your father. If you're not… I don't see the point in setting the bar for virtue so high that you can't be a human and pass it." She paused for a moment. "We will catch him," she promised. "The four of us, together."

"I hope so," Flash said softly. "I don't want anyone else to go through what I did."

"They won't," Weiss vowed. "Now, we should probably hurry, or we'll miss the interrogation."

Flash turned around and looked at her at last; she fancied that she could see a trace of gratitude in his blue eyes. "We wouldn't want that," he said, forcing a lightness into his tone.

They hasted upstairs and caught sight of Cardin and Russel standing in front of a set of monitors with Detective Mallard, watching the images from cameras located on the inside of a metal box not far away, with said cameras being the only way to see what was going on within.

"The Cage is completely soundproof," Mallard explained as Weiss and Flash joined them. "This is the only way to see or hear anything."

"What did we miss?" Flash said.

"Nothing yet," Mallard replied. "The lieutenant likes to sweat them for a little bit first."

Indeed, on the cameras, they could see Lieutenant Martinez sitting calmly on the other side of the table from Dressinger, calmly sucking on another lollipop while Yuma prowled restlessly up and down the wall, the smoke from his cigars spilling out into the room.

Dressinger also said nothing; he just kept glancing nervously between the two police officers.

"Fireworks, huh?" Lieutenant Martinez said. "You know, when I was a kid, I used to love fireworks. How about you, Yuma?"

Yuma shrugged. "They got a little loud sometimes."

Lieutenant Martinez chuckled. "When I was a little girl, every New Year's and every Vytal Opening, my Dad used to throw a party with fireworks. When I was really young, I asked if we couldn't go to the big party in Winchester Park, but Dad said there was no point; you couldn't see nothing with that big crowd. And so we had a barbecue, with all of the neighbours, and Dad would set off fireworks, just for us, in our own garden. I used to spend all day waiting to see what kind he'd brought this year, 'cause it seemed like every year was better than the last. I loved it. Do kids still love fireworks, Leo?"

Dressinger blinked. "Some of 'em, sure," he muttered.

"I bet they do," Lieutenant Martinez said. "Do you ever think about how many of those kids, who love your fireworks, have died because of the bombs that you also sell? How many of those kids have lost their parents because of the bombs that you also sell? Do you ever think about how many of those kids will only have memories of the fireworks their Dad brought for them last New Year's because of a bomb that you sold? Well? Do you?"

"I… I…" Dressinger stammered, cringing away from her.

"Don't bother to deny it, Leo; I'm not interested in hearing your excuses," Lieutenant Martinez said. "Why, Leo? For the money? Does that help you sleep at night, the lien you make from the blood of innocent people?"

"I… I… I want a lawyer," he managed to say.

"I bet you do," Lieutenant Martinez growled. "But what I want is information, and since this is my kingdom, we'll cover that before we get to what you want."

"Y-you can't do this. I got rights-"

"Let me tell me something about rights!" Lieutenant Martinez snarled, slamming her palm down onto the table as she got to her feet. "Rights are for decent, ordinary, law-abiding citizens, rights like the right to be kept safe from scum like you and the people that you supply explosives to. As far as I'm concerned, you don't have any rights, because rights are not for villains or those who deal with them. What you have is a chance to talk before I toss you into a cell and throw away the key!" She flipped open the folder, shoving a picture of Krot Krasny's burned face under Dressinger's nose. "Do you recognise this guy?"

Dressinger flinched. "No!"

"Are you sure? Look closely now!"

"No, I…" Dressinger paused, glancing back at the photograph. "I mean… I never saw his face, but he wore a dark hoodie, just like that."

"He had the hood up?"

Dressinger nodded. "And a mask. He had a mask over his face."

"A mask?" Lieutenant Martinez repeated. "A white mask?"

Dressinger shook his head. "A black mask. It covered his whole face; it… it was like a screaming face, in agony, you know, a really wide mouth with the points facing down. It creeped me right out; I was glad when he left."

"You weren't so creeped you didn't sell to him, though, were you?" Lieutenant Martinez demanded. "Were you?!"

"No!" Dressinger admitted.

"What did he buy?"

"Detonators."

"Timed or remote?"

"Both."

"How many?"

"A dozen… no, fifteen."

"Fifteen?" Lieutenant Martinez repeated. "Fifteen detonators? Fifteen, gods… anything else?"

"Fuses. Resistant casing materials. The works."

"How did he make contact?" Martinez yelled, pressing her face close to his. "I know that a guy in a creepy mask didn't just walk into your fireworks store during business hours and ask for bomb-making materials, so how did he make contact?"

"It was after hours," Dressinger said. "I got a call, asked me to wait in the store to talk about a special commission. That's what people do when they… you know. They want something… out the back like."

"When they want bombs, not fireworks," Martinez said flatly.

Dressinger nodded. "Y-yeah. So I waited. And they showed up."

"What was the number?" Yuma asked.

"I-I don't know," Dressinger said. "I-I don't keep track. It's better that way."

"And you don't know where they went either, do you?"

"No. If I did, I'd tell you, I swear."

Lieutenant Martinez snorted. "Yeah," she said. "Sure you would." She paused for a moment, her face hidden from the camera, before she gestured to Yuma and walked towards the door to the Cage. Outside, Mallard pressed a button to open said door, and Martinez and Yuma emerged, locking Dressinger back in behind them.

"That didn't seem to go too well," Russel observed as the two detectives walked towards the group.

"Watch your mouth, kid," Yuma growled.

"He's right," Lieutenant Martinez muttered. "But there's sometimes only so much you can do when the guy doesn't know anything."

"We confirmed that there is a bomb threat," Mallard pointed out.

"Yes, yes we did," Lieutenant Martinez acknowledged.

"Though I wish we hadn't," Flash muttered.

"We all wish that," Weiss said softly.

Cardin scowled. "So what now?"

"Now?" Lieutenant Martinez said. "Now we cut him loose."

"What?" Cardin explained. "You mean you're going to let him walk out of here?"

"He sells bombs to criminals!" Flash yelled. "He admitted it!"

"And a whole load of people saw us arrest him and take him into custody," Lieutenant Martinez reminded them. "So, when a whole load more people see a uniform car drop him off outside his store, safe and sound, what are they going to think?"

Weiss frowned. "I'm not-"

"They'll think he talked," Russel said. "They'll think he talked, and they'll want to find out what he said."

"Exactly!" Lieutenant Martinez proclaimed. "That's the theory, anyway. And my hope. And when they show up, we'll be waiting. With luck, we can nab somebody who knows a little more than Dressinger there does."

"That sounds… kind of risky," Flash said. "I mean… what if they kill him before we can get to them?"

"Then there'll be one less scumbag in the world, what about it?" Lieutenant Martinez asked.

Weiss's eyebrows rose. "That… is rather cold."

Lieutenant Martinez looked at her. "Like I told these two boys, we're not huntsmen here; we don't have the luxury of holding all lives to be equally precious and worth protecting. I choose to focus on the people who are worth saving, all the innocent people who are at risk so long as The Purifier is out on the streets. I've got a bomber who could strike at any time, and if I have to throw someone like Leo Dressinger into harm's way in order to get him, I will. If you have a problem with that, then you can go back to school. Is that what you want?"

"No," Weiss said immediately. "No, I just… my apologies, Lieutenant."

"Don't apologise," Lieutenant Martinez said. "Just listen, learn, and move on. Now, let's get our fly out of here and see what kind of spiders come along."

XxXxX​

Flash had told Weiss what Lieutenant Martinez had said to him and Cardin about her not entirely trusting most of her own officers; it explained what would have been the otherwise slightly strange decision to leave the bulk of them back at the Basement.

Only two cars – two unobtrusive-looking saloon cars, painted in common dark blue colours – kept watch on Leo Dressinger. Cardin and Russel were in one car with Lieutenant Martinez, while Weiss and Flash sat in the other car with Detective Mallard, watching as Dressinger walked down the street towards a joint called The Iceberg Lounge.

An open scroll sat on the dashboard linked both to Lieutenant Martinez in the other car.

Weiss, in the front seat, looked over at Mallard, and then behind him to the sword on the backseat next to Flash, sitting comfortably enough beside his Caliburn; her own Myrtenaster was between her knees.

"I… hope you don't mind me saying," Weiss said, "but I wouldn't expect a police officer to carry a sword."

Mallard laughed nervously. "Well… to be honest… being a police officer wasn't my first choice of job."

Weiss considered that for a second. "You… wanted to be a huntsman?"

Mallard nodded. "I wanted to fight monsters, be a hero, defend Vale from the darkness, all that marvellous stuff. Just like the storybooks. I was certain that it was… what I was meant to be. I graduated from Signal Combat School, I had my weapon, I applied for Beacon… I thought I knew where my life was going."

Weiss's brow furrowed. "What happened?"

Mallard was silent for a moment. "I failed Initiation. I didn't find a partner. I got a relic, and I got out, but I got out alone. Professor Ozpin told me that was against the rules; it didn't count. There was no place for me at Beacon."

"I'm sorry," Flash murmured.

"I'm a little surprised," Weiss confessed. "You survived the Initiation; would it really have been so difficult to have found some sort of place for you?"

"I asked myself that a lot," Mallard admitted. "I'd made it through the forest, I'd done what was asked of me, I'd shown that I was able to survive, to kill grimm. Just because I hadn't found a partner, didn't that just go to show how strong I was? How capable? You could say that it showed that I was more capable than all the rest because I could do it on my own and I didn't need anyone else to carry me!" He paused. "I probably sound a little bitter, don't I?"

"Just a teensy bit," Weiss said.

Mallard laughed. "I… well, I was, I won't deny that. But now… don't get me wrong, the two of you – the four of you – are incredibly lucky, getting to go to Beacon, to train to be huntsman… but at the same time, I think that getting thrown out by Professor Ozpin is the best thing that could have happened to me."

"Because it brought you here?" Flash guessed.

"Right," Mallard said. "At first, when I joined the police… I wanted to help people, but I won't pretend that I didn't see it as a poor substitute for the thing I'd really wanted to do. But working for DJ – the El-Tee; don't tell her I called her DJ while was on duty – has shown me that… the monsters that we fight are every bit as a dangerous as the ones that you fight, maybe even more, and Lieutenant Martinez is as much a hero as any huntsman. We're the line between law and chaos, and that… that matters. That matters as much as keeping the beowolf from the door." He smiled self-deprecatingly. "Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to preach at you; I just-"

"Take pride in what you do," Weiss said. "There's no shame in that."

Mallard nodded. "But… if you don't mind… what's it like, up at Beacon?"

Before Weiss could respond, they all heard Lieutenant Martinez's voice coming out of the scroll. "Look sharp; I think we might have something."

Weiss looked out of the window. She could still see Dressinger, looking warily behind him as he walked down the street, but not quite so warily that he was able to spot the people keeping him under surveillance. Mind you, she couldn't see anybody following him, so she had very little room to talk.

"I don't see-" she began.

"The brown SUV crawling down the street in the opposite direction to Dressinger," Cardin's voice emerged from out of the scroll.

Weiss looked down the road and saw it now: a big, boxy square vehicle with tinted windows that made it impossible to see inside. It was indeed moving very slowly, so slowly that it was being honked by some of the vehicles behind as they drove around this obstacle to the traffic. The car itself seemed oblivious to the irritation that it was causing, trundling along without a care in the world.

"I don't suppose there's any chance it's just a bad driver?" Weiss asked.

"It could be," Lieutenant Martinez allowed. "But it might not be."

Dressinger seemed as oblivious to the approaching vehicle as Weiss had been. As the SUV rolled slowly closer to him, he stopped at a roadside pretzel stand, one hand descending into his pockets to fish out his lien.

"What do we do?" Flash asked.

"Wait for instructions," Lieutenant Martinez replied.

The SUV approached.

Dressinger reached for his pretzel with one hand, holding out a low-value card with the other.

The rear doors of the SUV flew open, and two men leapt out, big faunus – a rabbit and a dog, judging by their ears – with blocky Valish rifles in their hands. Bystanders on the street began to scream in alarm as they grabbed Dressinger off the street, his lien falling to the pavement as they dragged him back and into the invisible recesses of their vehicle.

The vehicle which had already begun to speed away as the doors slammed shut, the SUV accelerating at a rate which seemed almost unbelievable compared to how slow it had been going a moment ago.

"After them!" Martinez yelled, and out of her window, Weiss could see the lieutenant's car dismounting the kerb and executing a smooth turn to follow in the same direction as the onrushing SUV.

Mallard mimicked the motion from the other side of the road, turning his car around and setting off in the same direction as their quarry.

Flash leaned forward in the back seat. "I thought that the plan was to stop them before they abducted Dressinger?"

"This works out better," Lieutenant Martinez said. "With luck, they'll lead us right to The Purifier."

"That's-"

"Cold? Yes, yes it is," Lieutenant Martinez said. "And do you know why that is? Because my job isn't to care about people like Leo Dressinger; my job is to catch bad guys and protect the innocent, and that's what I'm doing right now. Understand?"

Flash didn't reply, and from the other end of the scroll, it seemed like the lieutenant wasn't inclined to press him upon the point.

Weiss… Weiss understood. At least she understood the point that Lieutenant Martinez was making. She just wasn't sure that she agreed with it. Oh, no doubt it was very tempting to say that this life was worth more than that one; it was so tempting in fact that it was very hard to martial cogent arguments against the idea. Why shouldn't the life of a criminal be worth less than the life of the innocent potential victim of crime? Except… if one could excuse the slippery slope fallacy, where did that end? Declare the criminal worth less than the innocent, declare the spoiled Atlesian socialite worth less than the hard-working miner in Mantle. Declare the Schnee, whose family had caused harm to others and profited, to be worth less than those who had endured the harm.

Declare the faunus worth less than the human, and wasn't that how this had all started in the end?

Perhaps she was naive; certainly, it wasn't Weiss's place to lecture a twenty-year veteran on how to do her job, and she had no intention of voicing any of these concerns aloud, but that didn't change the fact that she had concerns.

This isn't Beacon indeed.

"The El-Tee's methods… aren't for everyone," Mallard admitted. "But she's still the best cop in the whole force; I think so, anyway. There's no lieutenant I'd rather have working this case."

I suppose that's one of the reasons we get these missions, to see… different points of view.

She glanced at Flash. All that really matters right now is stopping The Purifier.

All that really matters is making sure what happened in Crystal City doesn't happen again.

They kept up the pursuit, or rather, Lieutenant Martinez kept up the pursuit, and they, in the second car, followed behind her. They had a stroke of luck in that the SUV didn't seem to realise that it was being followed, even as they raced away from the scene of the crime. Perhaps they had expected the sirens of cars in hot pursuit and simply didn't imagine that the police might have been there already when they arrived. In any case, they were able to follow the SUV without incident – apart from having to run a few lights – all the way to a nice suburban part of Vale, a neighbourhood with picket fences outside of the houses and where the houses were panelled with painted wood. The panelling of the particular house on the drive of which the SUV parked was a pink-lilac colour and was, to be honest, the last kind of place at which Weiss would have expected to see criminal activity.

"Okay, this is it," Lieutenant Martinez announced. "Everyone, get ready to engage. Mallard, head around the house and come in through the back; I'll take the front."

"You got it, El-Tee," Mallard said.

"Remember, kids, this is police work now, so don't kill anyone if you can possibly avoid it."

"Shouldn't we maybe call for backup or something?" Weiss squawked as Mallard began to accelerate, shoving her back in her seat.

Mallard grinned. "That's not the lieutenant's way; she can't sit still and wait when the targets are right in front of her."

As the kidnappers began to climb out of the SUV, dragging a reluctant but unharmed-looking Leo Dressinger with them, Lieutenant Martinez car came skidding to a halt with a screech of tires, turning to present the side of the saloon to the house before them, blocking the road in case the SUV should try and reverse out.

Lieutenant Martinez threw open her door, pistol already in hand. "This is the police! Drop your weapons and put your hands where I can see them!"

The rabbit faunus raised his rifle. Lieutenant Martinez' pistol cracked twice, and he fell back, crying out and clutching his shoulder. The dog faunus managed to start firing, peppering the side of the lieutenant's car with bullets as she dove over the hood for cover. Weiss could see Cardin and Russel scrambling out the other side of the vehicle as it absorbed the fire.

As Mallard crashed their car through the picket fence, Weiss hastily lowered the window and pointed the tip of Myrtenaster out of it; aiming was practically impossible at this speed, but she was able to fire off blasts of ice dust towards the faunus as they tried to drag Dressinger towards the front door.

Mallard hit the brakes, throwing Weiss forward so hard that the seatbelt locked, but thankfully, she didn't lose her grip on Myrtenaster. She tried to ignore the pain in her shoulder and across her chest as she unbuckled her seatbelt and half-jumped, half-stumbled out of the car.

The dog faunus tried to turn his gun on her, but the crack of the lieutenant's pistol sounded again, and he went down sprawling. Another faunus, with goat horns curling past his ears, emerged out onto the front porch, a chunky pistol in one hand which he aimed at Weiss.

Flash leapt past her, Rho Aias – his weapons looked a little incongruous without the armour to go with them – in his hand as he raised the shield to take the bullets. Weiss could hear the rounds rattling against the metal as she focussed her attention on the SUV. She held her rapier before her, striking a pose as she conjured up a line of light blue glyphs behind her, stretching out to one side. Laser-like beams leapt out to strike the car, puncturing the tires and the front of the car body where Weiss thought the engine was.

There would be no escape from that direction.

Cardin charged with a yell, his mace held above his head before he slammed it straight into the face of one of the faunus holding Dressinger. The one flew into the wall of the house, while he knocked the other one across the car bonnet as Russel dragged Dressinger away to safety.

"This way!" Mallard shouted as he kicked down the gate leading to the back of the house. His sword transformed into a slender-barreled carbine as he led Flash and Weiss around the rear of the building. The garden was bare, the lawn reasonable and well-kept but with neither flower beds nor trees nor children's toys… no sign at all that anything was being done with it.

Why would they be doing anything with it? They're terrorists, not householders.

Mallard was closest to the back door, with Flash a little way behind and Weiss only coming around the corner when a giant rat faunus – Weiss could see his tail emerging out of the back of his trousers – emerged from out of the back door with a shotgun.

The shotgun boomed, and Mallard was hurled backwards across the garden, his body turning over and over before he landed, unmoving, upon the grass. Flash let out a wordless cry as he started towards the other man, Rho Aias held before him, Caliburn drawn back.

The shotgun boomed again. Flash stiffened, his semblance letting him take the hit without being thrown back.

The faunus racked his shotgun's slide.

Weiss sped forward, skating upon a row of glyphs which carried her forwards and upwards, skewering their formidable adversary upon the tip of Myrtenaster, hitting him with a blast of ice dust at the same time and then skating by, flying upwards, stopping to stand on a single clear white glyph floating in mid-air, suspended sideways.

Their enemy had staggered backwards, and while he staggered, Flash closed the distance between them, slamming Rho Aias into him and unleashing the shock of the shield's payload of lightning dust. The big rat faunus cried out, his body twitching and convulsing, before sinking down, unconscious, against the wall of the house.

Weiss leapt down to the ground, looking back towards Mallard, but he had already begun to move, albeit a little slowly. It looked as though his aura hadn't been broken.

Flash led the way inside, but they found no more faunus in the house, only Lieutenant Martinez and Cardin coming the other way.

The house was not huge, and it didn't take the six of them long to conduct a thorough search.

They did not find The Purifier, but they did find, in the basement, some evidence that someone had been making bombs.

And judging by the way that the workbench was covered in tools as though someone had been working on something, but no sign of what they had been working on, at least one bomb had been completed and was not in the house.

Flash stared at the empty workbench, his eyes wide, his hands trembling.

"Too late," he muttered. "Too late."

"Not yet," Weiss told him. "We can still-"

She was interrupted by Flash's scroll ringing. "Yes?" he snapped as he answered it.

It was Twilight Sparkle, and her expression was grave. "Flash… I don't know, but… I thought you should know… it's Sunset, something's happened."

 

[ScipioSmith]

Sunset's Letter​

There was nothing that she could have done.

She should have been able to do something.

The two thoughts warred in Pyrrha's mind like armies, like the hosts of the heroes clashing on the plain before the walls of Mistral. First one thought and then the other gained the upper hand, the advantage flowing first one way and then the other.

Neither made her feel any better. Whichever one won, her misery, her guilt, her worry, and her fear, they all remained the same.

They had arranged to meet at the fabric store that Ruby had visited with Blake; they had been going to see… Pyrrha couldn't even remember what the movie was; she just knew that she and Jaune had arrived late, that Sunset and Ruby had been there already, waiting for them.

She and Jaune had been walking down the street towards the shop when…

Intense heat. Fire and smoke. A bang that had momentarily deafened her.

Now, Sunset lay on the hospital bed, eyes closed, silent, unmoving.

She had taken the worst of it; something to do with where she'd been standing relative to Ruby… or rather, where they had both been standing relative to the blast.

Pyrrha knew that Sunset, given the choice, would not have had it any other way.

That was small comfort, not least because Sunset had not intended this. There was no way that she could have seen this coming.

No way that any of them could have seen this coming.

There was nothing that she could have done.

She should have been able to do something.

Pyrrha stood in the doorway of Sunset's room, watching as Jaune spread his hands over her, those same hands aglow with a golden light which spread across Sunset's body like the rays of dawn spreading outward from the horizon across the land. Sunset did not stir. Her visible injuries, the cuts and burns that the explosion had dealt her when it shattered her aura, faded from her skin, leaving her as fair and striking to look upon as ever… no. Not quite so much. She did not look so… she did not look so… when she slept, she…

She did not look quite so alive as when her eyes were open, when she was talking, moving, behaving like a creature from another world. All that was absent now, and with it, some of Sunset's charm.

Her wounds were gone, but still, she did not stir.

The light from Jaune's hand faded, like night and darkness returning when the day is past. Jaune looked at the doctor. "Why… why isn't she waking up?"

The doctor, a middle-aged gentleman whose collar and tie emerged above his lab coat, said, "With luck, it's just a concussion. We'll take a scan of her brain and see if there are any issues that we should be concerned with."

"But she will wake up?" Jaune asked. "Won't she?"

"Is she a fighter?" the doctor asked.

"Definitely," Pyrrha said from the doorway. "One of the… the most resilient I've ever known."

The doctor nodded. "Then her chances are good. Excuse me please," he added, starting for the door. "Nurse!"

Pyrrha made way for him and for the nurses who wheeled Sunset out upon her bed, still and silent and sleeping-seeming. She watched as they bore her away, the wheels of the bed squeaking and rattled as they pushed her down the corridor.

Jaune walked towards her, crossing the space where the bed – the space where Sunset – had recently been. His shoulders were slumped downwards, as if under a heavy weight.

"She's going to be okay, isn't she?" Jaune asked.

Pyrrha very much wanted to reassure him, but she would not lie to him, could not bring herself to lie to him, and so the most that she could actually say was, "I hope so."

Jaune didn't look very reassured. "It's stupid, don't you think?" he said. "Sunset has survived battles, hordes of grimm, and now… a bomb? Just a bomb going off, no enemy to face, no… that's what-"

"We mustn't give up hope," Pyrrha insisted, placing a hand upon his arm. "She isn't lost to us yet."

"I know," Jaune said softly, so softly that Pyrrha could barely hear him. "I just… it feels so stupid, doesn't it?"

Stupid was certainly the word, but Pyrrha did not feel that it was stupid so much as she was made to feel stupid. The bomb, the blast, Sunset's passive face as she lay there helpless and immobile, it all seemed to mock the pretensions of Sunset and of Pyrrha herself. Heroes. Great Warriors. Protectors and defenders and saviours of the world. Sunset Shimmer, who had dreamed of glory eternal, of a name and reputation that would endure in the immortal memory like the heroes of old, might die because she had been in a shop when a bomb went off.

That was why it didn't help to tell herself that there was nothing she could have done. If there was nothing that she could have done, then what good was she? The Invincible Girl, the Princess Without a Crown, the Champion of Mistral, what did any of it mean, really? She had hated the way that those epithets and all the reasons why she had them elevated her up above the common run of men, but never before had she perceived how truly hollow the pedestal on which she stood was.

Proud of her skill in arms, she had always thought, as much as she detested being lifted up, that there was some substance underneath her feet, but now? What good was the Invincible Girl if she could not protect her friend?

Was I supposed to duel a bomb?

If I cannot, perhaps I should admit that I have no power at all and no cause to talk so bold or dream so large.

"What…?" She trailed off, the words dying in her mouth.

Jaune looked at her. His eyes were wide and a little watery. "Pyrrha?"

She could not ask. She could not ask him 'what good are we?' Not now, of all times. Not when she had to be strong for him. Not when she felt in some strange way that she had to be strong for Sunset.

"Nothing," she said quickly. "It's-"

"Not nothing," Jaune interrupted her.

She looked into his eyes again. If she could not lie to him about Sunset's chances, then she could not lie to him about this, either. "It doesn't feel stupid," she said quietly.

Jaune frowned. "Pyrrha?"

"It feels wrong!" Pyrrha declared. "Sunset is one of the bravest huntresses at Beacon; she may not be as ready to throw herself into any peril as Ruby is, but she never turns away when the horn of battle sounds. She is a fighter, just as I told the doctor she was, she is strong, and… and she has magic," she added, lowering her a voice just a little for the sake of confidentiality. "And none of it was enough to save her from this condition." She paused. "How many lien have the taxpayers of Vale and Atlas spent on Sunset's education as a huntress?"

"It takes thirty thousand a year to make a huntress at Beacon," Professor Ozpin declared. "I am afraid the exact figures for an Atlesian combat school elude me, but I would set it about the region of… sixty to seventy thousand lien, all told."

Jaune gasped a little. Pyrrha turned around, her eyes widening a little. The headmaster stood at the end of the corridor, leaning slightly upon his cane with one hand.

"Forgive me," he said. "I couldn't help but overhear."

"Professor," Pyrrha murmured. "You-"

"I was informed that two of my students had been hospitalised by an explosion; how could I not come?" Professor Ozpin asked. His cane tapped the floor as he walked towards them. "How are Miss Rose and Miss Shimmer?"

"Ruby wasn't hurt too badly," Jaune explained. "After I boosted her aura, the doctors didn't think there was anything wrong with her; they just-"

He was interrupted by the sound of a commotion coming towards them, a commotion which turned out to be Ruby, shrugging off the nurse who tried to restrain her.

"You told me I was fine, so let go of me!" Ruby snapped as she advanced briskly down the corridor. "I'm fine, I don't need to lie down, I want to see Sunset!"

"Ruby?" Pyrrha said, closing the distance between them. "Should you be up and about?"

"She should be resting under observation," the nurse trailing after her declared acerbically.

"If those are the doctors' orders, Miss Rose, then you should do as you are told," Professor Ozpin observed.

Ruby let out a little squeak of alarm as she noticed the headmaster. "Professor Ozpin! You're here!"

"I am your headmaster, Miss Rose; is it so surprising that I should be concerned about your wellbeing?" Professor Ozpin asked.

Ruby laughed nervously. "Well, you did catapult us into the Emerald Forest on the first day of school," she murmured. "But, aha, as you can see, I'm fine, one hundred percent, nothing wrong with me, so-"

"So why don't we let the medical professionals be the judge of that, Miss Rose?" Professor Ozpin asked, his voice gentle and firm in equal measure.

Ruby pouted. "Can I at least see Sunset first?"

"She's not here, Ruby," Jaune said. "They already took her away for some scans."

"Scans?" Ruby repeated. "What kind of scans?"

"Brain scans, I think," Jaune replied. "They want to find out if there's any… any special reason why she hasn't woken up."

Ruby frowned. "So… she hasn't woken up yet?" she asked, her voice small and quiet.

Pyrrha bowed her head. "No," she said. "No, she hasn't."

"But she will, right?" Ruby demanded. "She will wake up; I mean she has to wake up! If she doesn't wake up, then…"

Pyrrha reached out and placed an arm around Ruby's shoulders. "That… Sunset wouldn't want you to despair of her too soon. If she were here, she would surely be most horribly disappointed in us all for counting her out because of something so trivial as an explosion."

Ruby snorted and then sniffed. "Yeah," she agreed. "Yeah, that's exactly what she'd say."

"Come along, Miss Rose," Professor Ozpin reminded her. "I believe you have some resting up to do."

"Can't I wait for Sunset to come back, Professor?" Ruby pleaded.

"No, Miss Rose," Professor Ozpin replied firmly. "You will rest until you are discharged, and then you – all of three of you – will return to Beacon."

"'Return to Beacon'?" Jaune repeated. "You mean just leave Sunset in here?"

"Is there anything that you can do for her by remaining here, Mister Arc?" Professor Ozpin asked.

"Maybe there isn't, Professor," Pyrrha protested, "but I think that we would all rather stay here until… until Sunset wakes up."

"I am sure you would, Miss Nikos," Professor Ozpin answered. "But I have to consider the possibility that you have been deliberately targeted in this explosion."

"'Deliberately'?" Ruby gasped. "You think someone was trying to kill us?"

"I can think of no other reason to bomb a slightly down-at-heel fabric shop," Professor Ozpin said. "And, that being the case, I must bring you back to Beacon for your own safety. I have asked the police to station some men for Miss Shimmer's protection, but you three will be much safer at Beacon."

Pyrrha's brow furrowed. She bowed her head for a moment, contemplating. "There is some force in what you say, Professor, but nevertheless, I, for one, would like to remain by Sunset's side."

Professor Ozpin looked at her, and Pyrrha found it impossible to tell what he was thinking. "For what reason, Miss Nikos? Or perhaps I should ask if there is any reason beyond mere sentiment?"

"Because my friend and comrade… because the life of my friend and comrade hangs in the balance, Professor," Pyrrha said, her voice trembling at the admission that Sunset might not open her eyes once more. "And as her friend and comrade… it is my duty to keep vigil over her until the gods decide her fate. In my kingdom, it is a sacred charge; I would be shamed if I turned my back on it for any reason so petty as my own safety."

Professor Ozpin continued to stare at her before he said, "Very well, Miss Nikos, I would not wish to stand in the way of Mistralian traditions."

Pyrrha bowed. "Thank you, Professor."

"Professor-?" Ruby began.

"Miss Rose," Professor Ozpin said, with a significant glance towards the waiting nurse.

Ruby huffed resignedly and followed the nurse back down the corridor the way she had come.

Professor Ozpin looked after her, as if he wished to make sure that she was going where she was supposed to go, before he returned his attention to Pyrrha and Jaune. "You were saying, Miss Nikos, before Miss Rose joined us?"

"Professor?"

"The cost of an education through combat school, and at Beacon?" Professor Ozpin reminded her.

"Ah, yes," Pyrrha murmured. "How many lien do you think the bomb that has put Sunset in the hospital cost, Professor?"

"Have you not always known that the best huntsmen can be laid low by even a single grimm?" Professor Ozpin asked. "Is there so much difference to being bested by a bomb?"

"A huntsman can train to avoid being bested by a single grimm, Professor," Pyrrha replied. "But a bomb… if a hero can fail so easily in the face of such a thing, then… what good is a hero?"

"Are we speaking of Miss Shimmer, Miss Nikos, or yourself?" Professor Ozpin asked.

Pyrrha hesitated. "Both of us, Professor," she admitted. "I am not sure that Sunset would yet call herself a hero, but she without a doubt believes – and rightly, I think – that she possesses the greatness of one. And I myself… I am so vain of my prowess. And yet… Sunset could not save herself, and I could not save Sunset."

She felt Jaune place his hands upon her shoulders. "Maybe," he ventured. "Maybe it's just not that kind of world any more. Maybe… maybe this isn't a story and there are no heroes, not the way there were, if they were 'the way they were' because it never was a story to begin with."

"All our lives are made of stories, Mister Arc," Professor Ozpin said, in tones of gentle but unmistakable reproach. "The stories that we tell ourselves to motivate us when the darkness falls and the cold sets in; the stories that we tell of ourselves, the legends that we spin for good or ill; the tales that are told of us by others, that go before our coming and which linger after we are gone."

"But that doesn't mean that things will always work out the way they do in stories or comic books, does it, Professor?" Jaune asked.

"No, Mister Arc, you are correct in that; the world is not always so kind," Professor Ozpin conceded. "And yet, are stories always so kind? Are there not stories where the hero perishes before their time?"

"Struck down by a great foe," Pyrrha declared. "Defeated in single combat or in the chaotic press of battle against many foes. Not slain by so dishonourable means as-"

"A knife in the dark?" Professor Ozpin suggested. "Their throat slit while they slept?"

Pyrrha pursed her lips together. "You are not wrong, Professor."

"And you should not be so disheartened, Miss Nikos," Professor Ozpin informed her. "It is true that so many thousands of lien of education may fall to a ten lien explosive device, but it has always been so that a shining hero may die a mean death unworthy of their life. Is it not said in Mistral that the mightiest warrior may be slain by a single arrow?"

Pyrrha nodded, if only a little. "It is, Professor. I suppose I had not taken it to heart until now. And still I wonder… still I return to my original question, if that is so – and even more so now – then to what end do we train so hard, if these mean threats can bring us down, and those close and dear to us?"

"Because there are other worlds, Miss Nikos," Professor Ozpin said. "This world in which I am afraid you have become momentarily embroiled is but one world: a world of narrow streets and knives in the shadows and, yes, explosive devices that make mock of the pretensions of Mistralian chivalry and those who would be heroes. It is a world for criminals and for the officers of the law who confront them in the darkness. Those officers may on occasion make use of the services of huntsmen, but, in my opinion at least, huntsmen do not belong here. But, as I said, there are other worlds: worlds of monsters, of the heroes who confront them.

"The heroes who are needed to confront them." Once more Professor Ozpin paused. "There once was such a hero," he said, "considered by some to be the greatest of his day, although I would not go so far. He fought many battles and defeated many enemies, but he died not in glorious combat, not in battle fighting for the justice for which he had so often risked his life, but in his bed, sweating and feverish. But he was no less a hero for it, and the cities that he saved and the… the maidens that he rescued were no less redeemed from peril because his end was not as glorious as his life. And even if Miss Shimmer should perish here in this hospital, even if you should meet your end in ignominious fashion, Miss Nikos, nevertheless, the deeds you both have done and the deeds – gods willing – that you will yet do will live on in spite of that fact. Take heart from that, Miss Nikos, and remember it whenever you feel such doubts as these creeping in. The world still has great need of you, and of Miss Shimmer, and of those like you."

Pyrrha took a deep breath. "Thank you, Professor," she murmured. "That is… that will be a comforting thought if only Sunset lives to do more deeds hereafter."

"I hope that she will," Professor Ozpin said quietly. "With all my heart."

"As do I," Pyrrha said.

"We all do," Jaune added.

"I had no doubts of that," Professor Ozpin declared, a slight touch of jollity entering his voice, but only very little in the circumstances. "It is a kind thing that you are doing, Miss Nikos, and when Miss Shimmer wakes, I am sure she will appreciate it."

"When Sunset wakes, Professor, I think she will be offended that Ruby and Jaune are not there," Pyrrha suggested.

Professor Ozpin gave a light chuckle. "Perhaps she will, Miss Nikos, but I daresay that I can bear Miss Shimmer's irritation." He chuckled again. "Take care of yourself, Miss Nikos. This world is no Mistralian arena."

"I know, Professor, and I will be on my guard, for myself and for Sunset," Pyrrha replied. If there is danger yet, that makes it all the more important that she should not be alone with only disinterested police officers to guard her. "Professor, may Jaune bring me a few things from our dorm room? My weapons, an overnight bag?"

Professor Ozpin considered that, or seemed to do so, "Yes," he said, "provided that you return to Beacon immediately afterwards, Mister Arc."

Jaune nodded. "I will, Professor," he said, not sounding entirely happy about it. He looked at Pyrrha. He still had his hands upon her shoulders. "Are you going to be okay on your own? I mean, I know that it sounds stupid asking, when you're, well, you, but-"

"But we just established that this is not… my world," Pyrrha murmured, reaching out to brush her fingers lightly through his hair. "But I must stay, for Sunset's sake; I cannot leave her alone." And for my own sake, I cannot run from a grubby-handed felon with a skill at bomb-making, else I would be shamed before the great-hearted folk of Mistral, unworthy either to call myself their champion or to be a huntress. She did not voice that last part; it sounded right and proper and even a little stirring inside her head, but Pyrrha had a feeling that if she said it aloud, it would only verge on the ridiculous. "I will take care, of both of us."

The corners of Jaune's lips twitched. "You'd better," he said, and bent down for a moment to plant a kiss upon her lips. "What is that you want? Weapons, what else?"

"My shampoo, a flannel, toothpaste, toothbrush, that sort of thing," Pyrrha said. "And my copy of The Mistraliad, please."

"Of course," Jaune whispered. "I'll bring them down to you as soon as I can."

"Thank you." Pyrrha blinked, her brow furrowing ever so slightly. "Professor?"

"Yes, Miss Nikos?" Professor Ozpin asked.

"What… was the name of the hero you mentioned?" Pyrrha asked. "I confess that I do not recall the tale."

Professor Ozpin was silent for a moment. "His name," he mused. "His name…" He smiled sheepishly. "Ozma," he said. "I confess, when I was a boy, I was drawn to him because his name sounded a little like my own."

"Ozma," Pyrrha repeated. "I confess that I have not heard of him."

"There is no reason why you should, Miss Nikos," Professor Ozpin replied, gently and genially in equal measure. "Come along, Mister Arc. Miss Nikos."

"Professor," Pyrrha said, bowing her head as the Professor took his leave. She smiled at Jaune as he departed and waved a little when he – getting further away – turned back towards her.

And as they left, Pyrrha could not help but wonder how it was that so great a man, considered the greatest of his day while he lived, could fall into obscurity after his death.

However it had happened, it was a great tragedy to rival his inglorious passing.

Pyrrha pushed such thoughts aside. They were of little use now. Now… now she had a call to make.

Not one that she would have made in different circumstances, but one that in these circumstances she could not avoid.

Sunset didn't speak of her family, at all. Pyrrha assumed, based on what Sunset did say about her past, that her parents had died before she had a chance to know them and that she had been raised by the teacher she spoke of, the one who had trained her in magic and whom Sunset had run away from. She lived beyond the kingdoms, which vague term was all the description Sunset gave, and Pyrrha had no way of getting in touch with her.

Sunset had no other relatives, to Pyrrha's knowledge, but Pyrrha did know of one person outside of the team and their fellow students who cared about Sunset and who would grieve at her passing.

Pyrrha walked into Sunset's room, empty in her absence, and called her mother.

Her breathing was deep while the scroll rang, her breast heaving up and down as the device vibrated in her hands.

At last, her mother's face appeared on the screen, unchanged in Pyrrha's absence. "Pyrrha," she said, her voice sounding almost breathless. "I… when I saw your name upon the scroll, I confess I did not know whether to believe it."

Pyrrha swallowed. "I… It is I," she said, and felt very stupid for having said it because of course it was her, who else would it have been? "But I did not call to speak of myself, Mother, still less of Jaune or aught else concerning us or Mistral or… anything at all of that nature."

Disappointment flashed in Lady Nikos' green eyes. "I see," she said softly. She stared out of the scroll, momentarily silent. "I hope I may be forgiven for asking, that being the case, what you do wish to discuss with me."

"I… Sunset has been hurt, and I thought you…" she hesitated, torn between 'I thought you should know' and 'I thought you would want to know.' "And you are the only person not presently at Beacon whom I thought might care."

The tremble of Lady Nikos' lower lip was barely notable, and yet Pyrrha noted. "Wounded?" she repeated. "How, and how badly?"

Pyrrha swallowed. "A bomb… while we were out shopping."

"'We'?" Lady Nikos said. "Were you injured also?"

"Is that all that you care about?!" Pyrrha snapped. "Doesn't it matter that Sunset-?"

"Do not presume to tell me what does and does not matter to myself!" Lady Nikos snapped right back at her. She drew in a sharp intake of breath. "You think me cold and cruel, you presume me to be heartless and without compassion. You are wrong, and sorely mistake for callousness what is but deep concern, but my affection for Miss Shimmer does not change the fact that you are my heir and the future of our line; I am entitled to know if you-"

"I'm fine!" Pyrrha cried. "I wasn't there! I… I arrived late, Jaune and I arrived late. I was too late. And now Sunset…"

Lady Nikos' expression softened as she waited for Pyrrha to continue. Only when Pyrrha did not continue did Lady Nikos ask, "How is she?"

"Comatose," Pyrrha replied.

"Rendered so by the wounds of her body?"

Pyrrha shook her head. "They think it must be in her mind."

Lady Nikos frowned. "I will make an offering to Seraphis for her recovery," she said. "A bomb, you say?"

Pyrrha nodded. "A bomb."

"A coward's weapon," Lady Nikos growled. "That is no end for a warrior as brilliant as Miss Shimmer is."

"I know," Pyrrha murmured. "Those were my thoughts exactly." She sighed. "Professor Ozpin gave me some very kind words, but at the same time, he could not hide the fact that the old ways… they are of little use in a modern world. Only in battle against the grimm is there still need for-"

"For what?" Lady Nikos demanded. "For dazzling skill at arms? For honour, courage, and devotion? Professor Ozpin may have a great reputation, but in this, I think he is mistaken. Yes, it is true that there are battlefields in which one cannot see the foe, but when old Lord Rutulus, Turnus' father, was gunned down by his own officers, there were many here in Mistral quick to proclaim that honour had died with him; what had it gotten so noble a man but an early grave which left his children orphans? But it was our Mistralian way, our traditions of honour and vengeance, and the devotion which a good man inspired in his faithful retainer which inspired Miss Volsci to bring his killers and all the rest who had orchestrated his death to justice.

"What new wisdom, what 'modern' outlook in vogue in Atlas would have enabled Miss Shimmer to have seen the bomb before it exploded? What greater perception would less courtly a manner have granted her? Where are you now?"

"I-" Pyrrha stammered, thrown a little by the abruptness of the question. "I am in the hospital. I mean to keep vigil by Sunset's side, until either she awakes or… until she wakes."

"And if she does not?" Lady Nikos asked.

Pyrrha took a deep breath. "Then I will avenge her," she declared. "As Camilla once avenged Lord Rutulus."

Lady Nikos nodded. "And there you have it, that which Professor Ozpin does not see or failed to mention: the honour of a hero will not protect them from bombs or bullets in the back, but it will draw to them those who will stay by their side when strength deserts them, and call avenging furies forth from beyond the grave."

"I hope with all my heart it does not come to that," Pyrrha whispered.

Lady Nikos nodded. "As do I."

XxXxX​

Flash's expression was grim as they pulled up into the hospital parking lot. He had looked that way on the whole drive over from the White Fang safe house. He hadn't spoken since they got the news, had only nodded in mute acknowledgement as Lieutenant Martinez had taken Flash and Weiss with her to the hospital, leaving Cardin and Russel behind with Mallard to wait for other units to give the safe house a thorough search.

He sat in the back, silent, staring at something that wasn't there, his hands sometimes clenching and then unclenching again, not saying a word.

He slammed the door of the car shut as he climbed out.

As he began to walk towards the hospital, he was arrested by the voice of Lieutenant Martinez. "Hold up a second," she instructed as she shut the door with a little less force than Flash had used. She crossed the car towards the two students. "Sunset Shimmer, she's a friend of yours?"

"She's a student in our year," Weiss replied, hoping to protect Flash's privacy.

"A student in your year, I'm sure she is," Lieutenant Martinez said. "But some of the girls I went to school with, I would have danced at their funeral, not… this!" she waved her hand up and down Flash. "You're close, right?"

"No," Flash replied. "Not exactly, we… it's complicated."

"You mean you broke up," Lieutenant Martinez said.

Flash blinked. "How-?"

"I may look old to you now, but I still remember being a teenager well enough to know what 'it's complicated' means," Lieutenant Martinez. "You broke her heart and now that she might die, you're very sorry for how you behaved; am I off-base?"

"Does any of that matter?" Weiss demanded. "Don't you think that that is prying a little too much?"

Lieutenant Martinez gave Weiss an uncomfortably knowing look. "Some officers would have pulled you off this case the moment it became clear that we were going after the scumbag who killed your father; some officers would pull you now. Me, I think there are things that we have to do before we can sleep at night, things that if we sit on the sidelines and let other people do the work, then we can't live with ourselves afterwards. But if we're going to catch this guy, then I need you – all of you – at your best, not brooding over what might have been or wondering if you made the right call-"

"Did we?" Flash demanded. "Did we make the right calls? If that's so, then how come we haven't caught The Purifier yet, how come Sunset is…?"

"Regrets are a ball and chain, Flash; they'll slow you right down if you let them," Lieutenant Martinez told him, her voice not unsympathetic but firm all the same. "If you really think that you did anything wrong, then learn from it and do better next time. If you really think that I did anything wrong, then tell me, and I might even agree with you, and I will do better next time. But sometimes… we play catch up in this job; we're lucky if we know what the bad guys are planning before they do it, and sometimes, even when we do know what they're up to, we still can't stop them until they try and do it because we've got no evidence. We play catch-up, and sometimes, we don't catch up in time. But we keep running, or else there'll be even more victims down the line. More bombs. More explosions. So are you ready to go to work?"

Flash hesitated for a moment. Then he nodded. "I'm ready to catch this guy," he said.

"Good," Lieutenant Martinez said. "Then let's go."

They head across the car park and into the hospital, avoiding the ambulances that pulled up outside the entrance to disgorge their patients on their stretchers. A woman stood just beyond the glass doors, speaking loudly into her scroll about the pitiful condition of her father; her face was red, and there were tears in her eyes, and Weiss felt embarrassed and a little ashamed to be able to hear and see her in that condition; it felt indecent to be intruding on such a private thing as grief.

She was grateful to leave the woman behind, to plunge past the sick and the injured waiting in the Accident and Emergency into the sterile-smelling corridors of the hospital, brushing past nurses with guarded expressions and swift strides as they sought out Sunset's room.

They found the room, devoid of Sunset, although Pyrrha was there, standing with her back to the window, facing the doorway.

"Pyrrha?" Flash asked.

"Flash, Weiss," Pyrrha said politely. To Lieutenant Martinez she said, "Are you a police officer?"

"Lieutenant Martinez, Flying Squad," Lieutenant Martinez said. "Pyrrha. Pyrrha Nikos?"

"Yes," Pyrrha said. "I'm Sunset's teammate."

"Where is Sunset?" Flash asked.

"They're doing some scans," Pyrrha said softly.

Flash swallowed. "'Scans.' That… doesn't sound good."

"If fate is kind, it may help determine why she hasn't woken up yet," Pyrrha replied. "Professor Ozpin has allowed me to wait with her until she does." Her green eyes flickered towards Lieutenant Martinez. "I'm told that some police officers will be arriving to protect her in case this turned out to be targeted."

Lieutenant Martinez nodded. "Some uniforms are on their way."

Pyrrha nodded. "Do you… do you really believe that this was a targeted attack?"

"I can't think why else someone would want to blow up a fabric store in The Elephant," Lieutenant Martinez said. "And I'm going to level with you, Pyrrha: there's a White Fang bomber in town, and you don't need me to tell you that they have reason to hold a grudge against you."

"But it still doesn't make any sense," Weiss said. "Attacking a team of huntsmen, it's hardly an act of mass terrorism, is it? Beyond the fact of a bombing itself, it… to be blunt, and without meaning any insult or disrespect to Sunset, it hardly affects anyone." It wasn't like the murder of a beloved actress and respected director; it wasn't like striking at the image and substance of Atlesian power. It was shocking to those who knew Sunset, but would those who didn't even take any notice?

"There'll be a reason for it; we just haven't worked it out yet," Lieutenant Martinez replied. "Is there anything that you can tell us?"

Pyrrha's brow furrowed with thought. "I'm not sure. I wasn't in the store; I only saw the explosion from outside… but I did see a woman leave the store before the explosion."

"A woman?" Lieutenant Martinez said. "Did you recognise her?"

"No," Pyrrha replied. "She was a faunus, but I couldn't tell… she had ears of some kind, but she was too far away for me to say if they were cat or dog or pony or something else. Ruby might be able to tell you more, or even Blake; she wasn't with us then, but she'd been to the store with Ruby before today."

Blake and Ruby could, in fact, tell them more, including the fact that the woman who had left the shop was a fox faunus, that she had been there the last time when Blake and Ruby were in the store, and even a sketch drawn by Blake – who turned out to be a surprisingly good artist on top of everything else – of the woman in question. Armed with all this, but still lacking a name, Lieutenant Martinez… took them to a pub.

"This," Lieutenant Martinez said, as she pulled up her car outside of the Rose and Crown public house, about one street over from the bombed out store, "is the nearest bar to Dunoaks; you know what that means?" On seeing the blank expressions on the faces of Weiss and Flash as they got out of the car, Lieutenant Martinez explained. "It means that it's the obvious place to get a drink after work. Hopefully, we can find out who she is and find out a little bit about her into the bargain."

The Rose and Crown was a traditional looking place from the outside, with unpainted wooden window frames and a wall that look like it was old-fashioned stonework rather than brick; that impression of sturdy traditionalism continued inside the bar as well, with oak-panelled walls and fire-darkened beams running across the ceiling and a lever rifle hanging up behind the wooden bar. It was beginning to enter the late afternoon, but the pub was not yet starting to fill up; Weiss guessed – she had no direct knowledge – that it was still too early in the day for most people to have quit work. Nevertheless, there were a few people, mostly older men in flat caps and dark overcoats, sat at the round wooden tables, drinking pints of golden ale from large glass tankards, smoking while they read the newspapers – in print! Weiss hadn't known that anyone still did that anymore.

Behind the bar stood a middle-aged man, a cat faunus with a bald head and a black tail curling up behind his back. As Weiss, Flash, and Lieutenant Martinez approached the bar, he put aside the glass he had been polishing and said, "Afternoon, folks, what can I get you?"

"I'll have a large whiskey," Lieutenant Martinez said, flashing her badge. "And some information."

The bartender's eyebrows rose. "Right," he said, some of the genial tone vanishing from his voice. "And you, officers?"

"That's a good point; how old are you two?" Lieutenant Martinez asked. "Have you turned eighteen yet?"

"Not yet," Flash admitted. "Not until July."

"I have," Weiss said.

"When?" Flash asked.

"Not long after the semester started."

"You didn't mention it," Flash told her. "We could have, I don't know, thrown you a party or something."

"I'm not really very fond of parties," Weiss murmured, looking away from him. It had not always been the case; when she had been younger – up until she was ten years old – she had been blessed with not one but two birthday parties every year, a rather stifling and joyless affair in the evening which she had had never particularly looked forward to, and one in the afternoon, the one to which she had always looked forward, the one which Klein and Laberna made so much fun. That one had stopped the year after her father's mask had fallen off, revealing the truth about his advantageous marriage to the heiress of the Schnee name. It had been about that time that Weiss had understood why she found her evening party so dull: because it wasn't really about her at all. She was just a breathing prop, an excuse for her father to throw a soiree where he could flaunt his wealth, lobby with Councillors and Generals, and demonstrate who was out of favour with him by pointedly not inviting them. Sometimes, she would be asked to sing so that her voice might be praised, and in later years, people had begun to praise her looks, but for the most part, she might as well have been an ice sculpture propped up in the middle of the ballroom.

Compared to that, letting her birthday pass without notice had been a blessing.

"Okay, the little lady will have a small whiskey to break her in," Lieutenant Martinez said. "And the kid will have an orange juice. Tough luck, kid."

"Actually, I'll have an orange juice as well, thank you," Weiss said. "It's…" – she glanced at Lieutenant Martinez – "it's a little early."

The expression on the face of Lieutenant Martinez was more amused than offended, thank goodness; she looked as though she might almost laugh, but did not while the bartender got their drinks.

"Now then," he said, leaning on the bar, "what can I help you with?"

Lieutenant Martinez drank half her whiskey down in one go before she took out the sketch of the suspect that Blake had drawn. "You recognise this woman?"

"Yeah, I know her; that's Brick Featherstone. Was she involved in that explosion? Is she-?"

"We're trying to find her," Lieutenant Martinez said. "You know her then? Does she come in here?"

"She used to," the bartender said. "Until I had to bar her."

"What for?" Lieutenant Martinez asked. "Did she do something?"

"Do? No. It's what she said that made me kick her out," the bartender replied. "Look, this is a pub; you expect people to run their mouths and start setting the world to rights. I'd be a little worried if they didn't. But when you start talking about how the only good human is a dead human… this isn't a faunus-only pub; I have human customers as well, and they were going to start going elsewhere if Brick kept stinking up the place with her ideas. That, or someone was going to kick her head in outside."

"And that wouldn't have been good for business either," Lieutenant Martinez said, as she finished off her whiskey.

"Did you call the police?" Flash asked.

"About what?" the bartender asked.

"About all of her rhetoric!" Flash cried.

The bartender scoffed. "And tell them what, that one of my customers was letting off steam? Brick was just full of hot air."

"Nobody expects you to rat on your customers, don't worry," Lieutenant Martinez said, before Flash could point out that Brick had not, in fact, been full of hot air. "Thank you for your time; you've been very helpful." She turned and headed towards the door, leaving Weiss and Flash to follow hastily after her.

"If anybody had told somebody what she was saying-" Flash began, as they left the Rose and Crown and headed back to the lieutenant's car.

"I don't know how things are in Atlas, but here in Vale, it is the gods-given right of every citizen to complain their ass off in their local bar without snitches scurrying around taking note of every inappropriate thing to come out of our mouths," Lieutenant Martinez said. "And frankly, that's a good thing. I have enough real work to do without having to chase down loudmouths or worry about whether I should turn in my neighbours for thought crimes."

Flash frowned. "I'm not talking about… you're taking things to an absurd degree. Eliminationist rhetoric-"

"Doesn't mean a thing, without a crime," Lieutenant Martinez interrupted. "Ultimately, the bartender's right: nine out of ten people who run their mouths like that will never have the guts to do anything about it."

"And the one in ten?" Flash demanded.

Martinez was silent for a moment. "Then we play catch up," she admitted. "Just like we do with all the crimes that people are smart enough not to talk about where everyone can hear them." She got out her scroll. "Russel! I need details on a Brick Featherstone. I doubt she went back to her apartment so car registration, relatives, anything like that you can find."

"Give me a second, Lieutenant," Russel said on the other end of the line, and Weiss could hear him tapping on the keyboard. There was a moment of silence. "Uh… what do I do once I've found it?"

"Put out an alert to all units to be on the lookout for her," Lieutenant Martinez said.

"Will do."

"And what about us?" Flash asked. "What do we do?"

"We play catch up," Lieutenant Martinez said. "And try to work out where they'll strike next – before they do it."

XxXxX​

Sunset was back from her tests. The doctors wouldn't tell Pyrrha what, if anything, they had found, but mostly, that was because she hadn't seen a doctor. Nurses and orderlies had brought Sunset back to her room, without a doctor in sight. Doubtless, they were aware of the results of the tests, and doubtless too, they had many patients to occupy their time.

All the same, she wished that one of them would have told her something.

Pyrrha stood at Sunset's bedside, looking down at her unconscious leader. She did not stir. She did not wake. She simply lay there, blind to Pyrrha's presence and to all else besides. She did not wake.

She might never…

Pyrrha shook her head slightly. She could not give up hope, for hope had not fled. Sunset yet lived, and yet would live, and open her eyes and lead the team once more.

Jaune had already been by, and so, Miló and Akoúo̱ were slung across her back. In her heart, she felt better for having them there, for feeling their familiar weight; in her head, she wondered if that emotional comfort were all they brought her, and no practical benefit at all.

If the White Fang try to finish what they started, they will be of great use to me.

If they come with arms, not if they come with a bomb as they did before.

How would the White Fang get a bomb inside a hospital?

How do I know they could not? What do I know about bombs?

Pyrrha's brow furrowed. She did not like this. She did not like any part of this. She did not like… she did not like this world, as Professor Ozpin had called it. No matter what her mother might say about the values of their ways, the fact remained that the headmaster was correct: she did not belong here; she was not suited to confront these menaces.

She was made for battles of a more open and unambiguous sort.

I am a hero of rather limited utility, it seems. I am more my namesake than I am a Dolon or an Aegiale.

Small wonder that, because of all the heroes of the Mistraliad, it was those two, the proponents of every bit of sneakiness and skulduggery on the part of Elusinians, that she admired the least. She was inclined to agree with the tragedians of later centuries that Dolon, in particular, had been a thoroughgoing cad and quite untrustworthy.

And yet, it was his cunning – and not the valour or the wrath of her great namesake – that had won the war and burnt the topless towers of Mistral.

Perhaps there was a lesson there for her.

Pyrrha's eyes fell on the copy of the Mistraliad that Jaune had brought her, sitting on the table by Sunset's bedside. She had brought it to read to Sunset, hoping that the tale might in some way penetrate Sunset's consciousness; it occurred to her now that she might gain some benefit from reading it in her own right.

Pyrrha took a step closer to the table and, with one gloved hand, reached out and plucked the book up from its resting place.

A note fell out of it to land upon the floor.

Pyrrha frowned at it as she bent down to pluck it up from there. She set the book back down where she had got it and opened up the folded note.

She recognised Sunset's handwriting, elegant and curved but with the words having a tendency to roll into one another, as though Sunset sometimes forgot not to join up all the letters.

Dear Pyrrha,

If you're reading this, then I am dead.

Actually, no, I can't guarantee that.

With my having hid this note in your favourite book, I am aware that there's a risk that you will simply decide to pick up the Mistraliad one day and find this. If so, I can only ask you to put it back and not make a big deal out of it. I couldn't just give you a letter to be opened in the event of my death; it would have been really awkward, and I had to put it somewhere that you'd find it but at the same time somewhere you wouldn't find it the day after I put it there.

My choices were limited is all that I'm saying.

Anyway, the reason why I'm writing this is because, well, I think that ought to be obvious. For your reference, I wrote this after we got back from the train job, when I almost died, but I probably should have written it sooner. This is a dangerous line of work we're in; it's like Benni Haven says: most of the teams with a photo on that wall have lost at least one person, and if that has to hold true for us as well, then I would much, much rather it be me than anyone else.

If I have to die saving you, or Ruby, or Jaune, then I will.

(Conversely, if you're reading this, and I'm not dead yet, I'm putting you on notice: if you die before me, I will find my way into the afterlife and kick your ass!)

Pyrrha covered her mouth with one hand to escape the snorting giggle that threatened to escape her mouth and nose alike. She hesitated, lowering the note for a moment, wondering whether she ought to read on or not. After all, Sunset was not dead yet.

But she…

Pyrrha didn't want to think about it, but at the same time, just putting the note back and pretending that she'd never seen it… she was too curious to do so; she had to read on, she had to find out what Sunset had to say.

Even if… even if it turned out to be her last word.

So, anyway, this is my letter to you to be read in the event of my death. No, I haven't written to Jaune or Ruby. Jaune is a good guy, and you're lucky to have him, but he and I aren't that close, and while I love Ruby, I can't speak seriously with her about things the way that I can talk to you.

I think that's partly because, as much as I care about Ruby, you get me more than she does; but I should probably admit that it's also because I see her as a kid, even if that is really unfair to her.

So, I'm dead. I hope it was a glorious death. I shall be very disappointed if it was something ignominious.

Oh, Sunset, Pyrrha thought. Please wake up. You must wake up, if only to avoid that disappointment.

I don't know who makes these choices, or if my word will carry any weight at all with those who do, but if it does make any difference, I want you to take over as team leader.

Pyrrha's eyebrows rose in surprise.

Are you surprised? Ruby is too reckless by half; she needs a restraining influence to stop her from running off and getting herself killed. I'm serious about this, Pyrrha, I worry about her sometimes. I don't want to speak ill of the dead by mentioning where I think it comes from, but our Ruby is too in love with the idea of dying nobly for my liking. I don't ask you to protect her in battle, but when it comes to going into battle or not, someone – and if I'm not around it will have to be you – might need to hold her back a little.

As Pyrrha turned over the page to read what was written on the other side, she had to admit that Sunset had a point. Ruby… Pyrrha worried about her too, sometimes. Even what had happened in the forest didn't seem to have changed anything with her. It didn't seem like she intended to do anything different. It was as though Ruby Rose valued every life except her own.

Although I'm not sure what you expect me to be able to do about that, Sunset.

She resumed reading.

Jaune is, as I've said, a good boy, and he has a good head on his shoulders. You'd be wise to trust his strategic acumen; he has more wisdom than I think he realises. But I'm not sure he has it in him to deny either of you, especially not you. He loves you, and while that's wonderful, he would do anything that you asked him to do, and even if he were made leader, he'd still rely on you because you're so much more skilled than he is. That being the case, you might as well be the leader with him as your second. Besides which, strategy is only part of a leader's job; the other part, maybe the bigger part, is to inspire one's teammates.

I don't know if I'm that good at that, although I try my best. I flatter myself that I can speak well enough, but I sometimes worry that I can't put real heart into the words that I say.

You don't have that problem. You might not be as natural a speaker as Ruby is, but you always speak from the heart, and as steeped as you are in the lore of old Mistral, you can speak with a poet's tongue when the fancy takes you.

Seriously, I could listen to you all day.

Ruby is the heart of our team, but you are the soul. You exemplify to all the best traditions that we as would-be heroes strive to uphold. Of all us, you are the one who demonstrates most clearly what it is to be a huntress, in my eyes anyway.

Sunset, you give me too much credit by many leagues.

You only need to have a little more faith in yourself. You are the Princess Without a Crown, descended from a line of heroes; have some confidence! Only go forward in the knowledge that you are the Invincible Girl and nobody ought to mess with you, and you will do very well.

On a more practical note, I don't want you to hold off on recruiting a fourth member of the team out of respect for me or anything like that. As much as it would be touching if you did, I'd rather the team was at full strength; you can remember me by remembering me, not by putting an underscore somewhere in the team name. I recommend you try and poach Blake from Team YRBN; it will keep her from going to Atlas, and we deserve her more than they do after our prior association, and it will give you a terrifyingly formidable line-up. I recommend PBAR as a name, pronounced 'Pear'.

If necessary, challenge Yang to single combat with the winner getting Blake on their team. And don't hold back!

I believe in you!

In that, and in everything else.

If it was not for as long as I would have liked, I am very glad that I got the chance to be your friend.

I am a better person for having known you.

Take care of them, and take care of yourself.

You will do great things, I know it.

Sunset Shimmer

PS: Call your mother!

By the time that she was done reading, Pyrrha's tears were starting to land upon the paper, but at the same time she was having to stifle laughter as well.

Oh, Sunset.

You really are so… so wonderful.

I suppose… how could I refuse your last request like this? I will lead, if I can, and I will challenge Yang to a fight, although goodness knows how Blake will react to that.

I will do it… I will do it because you ask it of me, but I would rather not.

I would much rather you woke up.

Please wake up.

I… do not have your faith that we can do this without you.

Pyrrha snapped round, her whole body turning towards the door as she felt someone coming, her aura alerting her to the presence of other people with aura approaching.

She let Sunset's note fall from her hand, and she gingerly began to reach for Miló.

The door into Sunset's room slid open to reveal Rainbow Dash and Blake.

Pyrrha sighed. "Oh! It's you." She lowered her hand to her side. "I'm sorry, but I… I suppose that I'm a little jumpy at the moment."

"That's understandable," Blake murmured as the two of them walked in. The gaze of her golden eyes alighted on Sunset, and her voice remained soft and quiet as she said, "How is she?"

"She won't wake," Pyrrha said, in tones of equal quietness.

"But she will?" Blake asked.

Pyrrha hesitated. "That… isn't certain."

"Yeah, it is," Rainbow said, as she shut the door behind them. "Sunset won't die without getting the last word in."

Pyrrha snorted, and wiped away the tears from her eyes with one hand. "I might agree with you, except that she's already found a way to get the last word anyway." She picked up the note that she had dropped, raising it up so that both of them could see it. "I found this in my book. It's a letter from Sunset… in the event of her death."

Rainbow's face fell. "Right. I guess that… yeah."

Blake frowned as she walked behind Pyrrha and around the bed, so that she was standing on Sunset's other side. "I can't imagine Sunset doing something like that." She paused. "Mind you, I have a hard time imagining anyone doing something like that. It sounds so… maudlin."

"It's not that weird," Rainbow replied. "I've recorded a video for the girls just in case. The General agreed to hold onto it for me. And I know that Ciel's got a letter; it's with her priest in Atlas."

Blake looked at her. "Doesn't it seem a little… fatalistic?"

"No, because it's not like we're planning to roll over and die," Rainbow insisted. "It's just that this is dangerous… we might not always get to tell the people we love how we feel before… you know."

Blake was silent for a moment. "I suppose," she conceded softly. "Perhaps it's just that… I didn't have anyone to write to before."

"Sunset's letter is not quite a last confession of her feelings," Pyrrha said. "It's more of a list of instructions. Her last commands, if you will."

Rainbow snorted. "Yeah, that sounds about right for Sunset." She grinned. "Can you tell us what's in it?"

"Rainbow Dash," Blake murmured disapprovingly.

"I…" Pyrrha wondered whether she would be breaking confidence by doing this, but then in a sense, she'd already disobeyed Sunset's instructions by reading it before Sunset was dead. "Sunset gives me her voice in the succession as team leader," she said. "I'm supposed to challenge Yang to a duel over you, Blake, so that you can fill Sunset's place on our team and not go to Atlas."

Blake stared at Pyrrha for a moment. "You're not kidding, are you?"

"I'm not sure whether I ought to wish I was," Pyrrha replied.

Blake continued to stare. Slowly, a smile began to crinkle her mouth.

Pyrrha smiled back. A little giggle escaped from her mouth.

Blake shook her head. "She is-"

"Impossible," Pyrrha finished for her. "And completely wonderful at the same time."

Blake looked back down at Sunset. She reached out and took the unconscious Sunset's hand in her own. "I'm sorry," she murmured. She looked up, and into Rainbow's eyes. "I owe you an apology too."

Rainbow frowned. "Why?"

"The White Fang did this," Blake said. "The White Fang always did this, and I defended it, and I looked the other way, and-"

"And you left because you knew that it was wrong," Pyrrha reminded her.

"All the same," Blake replied, turning to Rainbow. "No wonder you hated the things that I said when we first met."

"Well…" Rainbow looked away. "It hits different when it's people you know."

Blake nodded. "It shouldn't." she whispered, in a tone as melancholy as the breeze which blows through a ruined castle, whispering in the broken archway.

"Maybe not, but it does," Rainbow replied. "We wouldn't be down here if it was someone other than Sunset in this bed, you wouldn't be saying this if it was someone other than Sunset, and… well, if it weren't for the Wedding, I wouldn't have flown off the handle at you the way I did. It's all… forget it, okay? This isn't your fault."

"Not this time," Blake muttered darkly.

Rainbow ignored that. "Has… has Flash been by?" she asked. "I know that Twilight let him know what happened."

Pyrrha nodded. "He came. With a police officer."

"Huh?"

"Team Wisteria are shadowing some detectives on a training mission," Pyrrha explained. "I wish them good fortune in an arena for which… we huntsmen may be ill-suited." She looked at Rainbow. "Rainbow Dash, may I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"All the technology that you Atlesians possess, the airships, the weapons, the bombs… does it ever make you feel unnecessary?"

Rainbow blinked. "Why would you ask me something like that?"

"Because she's feeling inadequate because she couldn't save Sunset," Blake declared. "Aren't you?"

Pyrrha smiled sheepishly. "Am I so transparent?"

"It's more that we're so alike," Blake explained. "I'd feel the same if I'd been there. I still do feel the same. If I had known more, if I'd been able to give the police more useful information, then maybe they would have caught The Purifier more quickly."

"I'm sure you told them everything," Pyrrha said.

"That doesn't mean that I told them enough," Blake replied. The corner of her lip twitched upwards. "I'm sure that you did everything you could, too."

Pyrrha's mouth opened, but she did not reply, not for a few moments, when she admitted, "Point taken."

"You can't save the world alone," Rainbow said. "Not even you, even if you are the best I've ever seen. That's why we have the tech, and the missiles, and the airships."

Pyrrha did not reply. She could recognise, on a certain intellectual level, that Rainbow was speaking the truth, but on the other hand… it cut against everything that she had been told growing up, everything that she'd come to believe, everything that she held dear.

How can I save the world if I can't save my friend?

And if I can't save the world, then what good am I?

She was nothing but a weapon, and a weapon that was starting to seem inadequate for the world into which it had been fashioned.

Blake said, "Would you like me to stay here with you? With Sunset?"

"Sunset would like that," Pyrrha said. "And I would welcome it, but I'm not sure Professor Ozpin would be so keen on the idea."

"We could call it a mission for Atlas," Rainbow suggested.

Pyrrha looked at her. "What kind of mission for Atlas would justify staying by Sunset's hospital bed?"

Rainbow opened her mouth, but said nothing. "I… don't know," she admitted.

"It turns out it doesn't matter anyway," Blake said, looking at her scroll. "I've just got a text. The police want me to come in."

XxXxX​

Cardin folded his arms across his chest. In front of him, pinned to a board on the wall of the Basement's squad room, was a map of Remnant, with pins of various colours tacked into it representing bombings attributed to The Purifier by Blake.

Oh, yeah, Blake was here. She hadn't said anything to him since she came in, and he hadn't said anything to her. It seemed as if it would be better that way. It allowed them both to avoid the awkwardness of, well, he should apologise, but now was hardly the time for it.

Although he wasn't sure when the time would be, at this point.

But right now, they had a job to do. They needed to find The Purifier before he struck again. Since they had no leads on that, the best idea that Lieutenant Martinez had come up with was to try and work out where he might strike again.

Since it wasn't as though there was a shortage of targets, what the lieutenant had done was call in Blake to tell them as much about other bombings by The Purifier as possible so that they could try and figure out a pattern.

So far, said pattern was proving elusive.

"Okay," Lieutenant Martinez said. "From the top. We have Crystal City, the Atlesian R&D base. We have the airship in Argus carrying the actress and the director. We have three attacks on that security firm in Mistral-"

"Rutulian Security," Blake said. "A private military contractor managed by one of Mistral's most prominent families. Two bombs at their regional offices went off, killing employees, but a third bomb outside the family estate was discovered and disarmed."

"Could he be going after celebrities?" Russel asked. "Or prominent people, anyway? I mean, these rich folks in Mistral, the actress and the director, Pyrrha Nikos on Team Sapphire is a celebrity, and you said the captain of that SDC ship-"

"The Fitzgerald," Blake said.

"Yeah, that one," Russel said. "You said he was famous, right?"

"More like infamous," Flash muttered. "When his ship was blown up, he was only just back at sea after his acquittal on a charge of murdering one of his own crewmates, a faunus crewmate, in case that needed saying."

Russel shrugged. "Fame is fame, isn't it?"

"Fame doesn't explain the base at Crystal City," Flash said.

"What about-?"

"No," Flash said. "My father wasn't famous. My mother is known in circles connected with the Council, but not outside of them."

"So you're fancy, but not famous," Russel said. "Got it."

"Focus," Lieutenant Martinez told them. "Any other ideas?"

"Institutions," Weiss said. "The SDC, the Atlesian military, did Rutulian Security have any record of anti-faunus bigotry?"

"No," Blake said. "The Rutulus family is actually well known in Mistral for how unusually lacking in prejudice it is. The old lord practically adopted a faunus girl."

"Good for him, but not everyone likes that kind of thing; take it from me," Lieutenant Martinez said. "My parents got no end of crap from assholes who couldn't believe that humans could love a faunus child like she deserved."

"Could they?" Weiss asked.

Lieutenant Martinez turned a gaze on her that would have curdled milk. "I'm going to pretend that you didn't say that, and you ought to thank me for being so generous."

Weiss's cheeks flushed. "I'm only saying that just because someone adopted a faunus child doesn't mean that they aren't racist."

"It doesn't matter whether they were or weren't racist; it still doesn't explain Chestnut Magnifico and Canter Zoom, or Team Sapphire for that matter," Cardin said. "They weren't institutions, apart from anything else."

"Then what does explain it?" Weiss demanded.

Cardin sucked in a sharp intake of breath. He stared at the map, stared at the pins, and imagined what they represented. "Revenge," he said.

Everyone looked at him. "Go on," Lieutenant Martinez urged.

Cardin hesitated. He licked his lips. "Blake," he said, spitting out her name in his nervousness. "You said that the Rutulus family weren't bigoted, right?"

"That's right," Blake said, and he could practically hear the unspoken 'unlike some people.'

"But Rutulian Security is a private firm, which means they work for clients, right? Did any of their work ever bring them into conflict with the faunus?"

Blake blinked. "I… don't know."

"I'm on it," Russel said, turning his chair around to face the computer as he began to type furiously upon the keys. "Let's see… let's see. Hey, Cardin, you're right. Not long before the first bombing, Rutulian Security had cleared out a faunus commune on public land that had just been sold by the Council; they'd argued that they had squatters rights, but the judge threw out their case and gave the greenlight to evict them by force."

"Did anything happen to the judge?" Cardin asked. "Or the guy who bought the land?"

"Uh… the judge's car exploded with him inside; it was ruled an accident due to improper maintenance."

"My ass it was," Cardin growled. "What about the new landowner?"

"It was sold to a guy named Timur; nothing happened to him personally, but one of his country houses went up in smoke."

"How did you know that?" Lieutenant Martinez asked.

"It fits," Cardin said. "It's the only thing I can think that fits. Crystal City is where Krasny lived, where he got burned, so he went back there and blew it up. Chestnut Magnifico and Canter Zoom had just finished location shooting in Mistral for the Daring Do movie; at the time-"

"At the time, a lot of faunus rights groups had kicked off because they'd cast a human to play a character who is a faunus in the books," Lieutenant Martinez said.

Russel looked from Cardin to the lieutenant and then back again. "How do you both know that?"

"Because they're my kids' favourite books; we read them together all the time," Lieutenant Martinez said. Her tone acquired the edge of a growl as she added, "And I had to explain to them why some jackass yelled at them for dressing up as Daring Do for Remnant Book Day."

"And I… am also a fan," Cardin added, his voice growing quiet as his cheeks grew pink.

Blake folded her arms. "You are a fan of Daring Do?"

"Are you surprised that I like books with a faunus heroine?"

"I'm a little surprised you can read," Blake replied.

"My point," Cardin declared heavily, "is that Crystal City had offended Krasny personally, Chestnut Magnifico and Canter Zoom had offended the faunus, Rutulian Security and the people they worked for had offended the faunus, the captain of the Fitzgerald had killed a faunus and gotten away with it, and Team Sapphire have fought against the White Fang. All his attacks are based on settling scores. I think that's why he attached Rutulian Security three times: his first bomb didn't go off, so he had to get them back twice, first for the initial insult and then the second time for foiling his first attempt."

Weiss frowned. "That sounds rather childish for a master bomb maker."

He sounds like me, Cardin thought. And Sunset too, but me. How do you think I was able to work it out?

He's a petty asshole, and he thinks the way that petty assholes do.

"Just because he's a monster doesn't mean he has to be smart," Lieutenant Martinez said. "Cardin's right; his theory fits all the facts. So, in that case, if we assume that The Purifier is out for revenge, where does he strike next?"

"Beacon," Weiss said. "It's where the rest of Team Sapphire and Team Rosepetal are."

"But if he needs to make up for his own failures, then that means he'll attack the hospital and try and kill Sunset again!" Flash cried.

"We'll split up," Lieutenant Martinez said. "Yuma, call Ozpin and warn him there might be an attempt to bomb Beacon Academy, then direct bomb squad and tactical units to Beacon and to the Princess Royal Hospital. Mallard, take Cardin and Russel up to Beacon and start searching for a bomb or The Purifier or… anything suspicious. Weiss, Flash, you're riding with me, and we're headed for the hospital."

"I'll come with you," Blake said.

Lieutenant Martinez hesitated for a moment, before she said, "Fine, you can ride with us. Come on."

XxXxX​

A siren blazed on top of the lieutenant's car as it raced through the streets.

Blake sat in the back of the SUV with Flash, while Weiss sat up front with the lieutenant. Both of the two members of Team WWSR were on their scrolls, speaking frantically into their devices as the car sped along.

"Pyrrha?" Flash said. "Pyrrha, it's Flash; have you seen anything suspicious?"

"No," Pyrrha murmured. "With the officers at the door, we haven't been disturbed. What's going on?"

"We think that Team Sapphire was the target of the bombing because of your past run-ins with the White Fang," Flash explained. "They didn't get Sunset before, so they might try again."

"Gods," Pyrrha murmured. "What can I do?"

"Just keep Sunset safe," Flash told her. "We're on our way."

Weiss, meanwhile, was holding her scroll up to Lieutenant Martinez ear so that the latter could hear it as she drove.

"We're at Beacon now, El-Tee," the young detective, Mallard, said. "The students are helping to search the grounds and buildings for explosives. Nobody's seen anyone suspicious on the campus. The Atlesians have offered the assistance of a bomb disposal unit."

"Tell them to sit their asses down; we'll handle this ourselves," Martinez said sharply. "Only tell them more politely."

"El-Tee, this is Yuma; Bomb Squad says they don't have the manpower to cover two sites at once on the chance there might be a bomb. We either need to find two bombs or pick one location."

Lieutenant Martinez sighed. "Damn budget cuts," she muttered. "Okay, tell Bomb Squad to head to the hospital. Mallard?"

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Tell the Atlesians that we appreciate whatever assistance they can provide," Lieutenant Martinez said, through gritted teeth. "Yuma, do we at least have tactical units for Beacon and the hospital, or do we have to ask the Atlesians for marines as well?"

"They're en route."

"Thank gods for that," Lieutenant Martinez said.

Blake sat in the back, saying nothing. Something bothered her, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Yes, Cardin's point made a lot of sense. The Purifier was bent on revenge, but did that necessarily mean that he would make a second attempt on Sunset immediately? When his attempt to kill the Rutulus family had failed, he had switched to attacking their organisation, not continued to plug away at the family. Yes, revenge upon Team SAPR, but Team SAPR hadn't been the only ones confronting the White Fang; there had been Team RSPT too, and…

Blake's ears pricked up as her golden eyes widened. Team RSPT… and her.

And she had not only fought the White Fang but betrayed it first.

And she had gone to the fabric shop with Ruby, so the Purifier might have assumed that she would go there again.

Was… was I the target all a-?

The truck erupted out of the side-street like an avalanche, slamming into the side of Lieutenant Martinez's SUV with enough force to send it rolling, tumbling roof over wheels across the road, windows shattering as the roof compressed. The world span before Blake's eyes, the cries of Weiss and Flash filled her ears, and yet, they barely registered in the face of being thrown up and down, her seatbelt digging into her shoulder as her head was slammed repeatedly against the doorframe; her arms flailed uselessly, the glass cut at her aura, the world yanked her up and down, up and down. She felt her aura break under the assault, under the relentless and incessant impacts, and when the car finally rolled to a halt upon its roof, she could do nothing for a moment but hang, suspended in place by her seatbelt, breathing heavily in and out as smoke issued out of the engine.

She heard Weiss groan in the front seat. From Lieutenant Martinez, there was no sound.

Blake's mind was foggy, but she was dimly aware that the driver's side of the car had been the one to take the bulk of the impact.

"Blake? Blake, are you okay?"

Blake looked around, wincing at the pain in her neck as she twisted it. Flash was suspended too, but only for a moment as he ripped his seatbelt off and dropped on all fours onto the roof of the car.

"Blake!" he repeated, his voice muffled to her ears. "Hold on, I'm going to-" His words were cut off as something grabbed him by the leg, pulling him out of the car as he struggled to resist them. He was pulled through the shattered window and out of sight. Blake heard him say, "Wait, I know you-" before there was a sickening thudding sound.

Blake struggled to free herself from her seatbelt, but it was hard when she could barely think straight. She couldn't really remember how she'd fastened herself in in the first place, and her hands were having trouble finding the… finding the… finding the thing. The thing! How did she get out of here?

A face appeared at the shattered window, the face… the face of Neon Katt.

"What's new, pussycat?" Neon asked with a bright smile on her face.

Blake blinked. "You… you're… here."

"Surprise!" Neon cried. "Or not. When you think back, I'm sure you'll agree it was actually… kind of obvious."

 

[ScipioSmith]

Turncoat​

The barrel of the gun was large, a great, gaping black hole waiting to swallow her up.

The pistol didn't waver an inch in Neon's hand.

Blake could hear every breath she took, as loud as a storm.

"All flowers die," Neon whispered.

Blake's eyes widened.

Neon's finger squeezed the trigger.

There was a sound of thunder.

XxXxX​

Twenty hours earlier…

The Iceberg Lounge was a favourite of Atlesian expats and tourists, specifically the kind who wanted to come to Vale without actually experiencing anything remotely Valish. The screens on the walls showed Atlesian TV stations; the food was all Atlesian favourites; the drinks were all either sourced from Atlas or Atlesian cocktail recipes; the servers were all androids in bow ties, their joints clanking as they carried their trays of drinks up and down to the booths and the private lounges; the lighting – so dim that you could barely see anything – was all cool blues with white patches where it was necessary to be able to see, like the emergency exits; ice sculptures dotted the club, with a phenomenal sculpture of Atlas itself serving as a centrepiece to arrest the eye of anyone coming inside.

Seriously, you could come here and almost forget that you were in Vale at all. As a result, it had become something of a favourite for the older students here for the Vytal Festival, not least because it was an Atlesian club of the sort they would never ordinarily have gotten the chance to go to on account of the curfew at Atlas Academy. Neon thought it was kind of funny that they had to go all the way to Beacon for the chance to go to a quintessentially Atlesian establishment, but it just went to show how much less strict the rules at Beacon were.

This wouldn't ordinarily have been Neon Katt's kind of place; she would have much rather explored Vale's more native nightlife, like that jazz bar, Pride's, that she and Flynt had found.

But, as much as the Iceberg Lounge might be a favourite with the kind of really boring people who didn't like trying new things and experiencing new cultures and all the reasons why there was a Vytal Festival in the first place, they did play a soundtrack of banging Atlesian techno, and Neon was in the mood for some of her favourite music right now.

She flopped down on the couch that ran around their corner booth. She slammed both her palms down on the glowing blue table that sat in front of her.

"Humans," she declared loudly. "Suck!"

Rainbow sighed. "Neon."

"No, don't 'Neon' me, Rainbow Dash, not after the day that I've had," Neon said. "Humans suck."

"I wish you wouldn't talk like that," Blake murmured. "Even if you are joking."

"Who says that I'm joking, huh?" Neon replied.

Blake looked at her levelly. "If you mean that, then I don't want to sit here and listen to you say it."

Neon rolled her eyes. "Dashie, why did you even invite this killjoy to come out with us in the first place?"

"Neon, play nice with Blake, okay? She's got the Mettle," Rainbow insisted. "Blake, Neon doesn't really mean it-"

"How do you know that I don't mean it?" Neon demanded.

"Because I know you," Rainbow replied. "And because I wouldn't be your friend if you actually thought like that."

"When did everyone get so judgy?" Neon asked. "It was when you started hanging out with Ciel, wasn't it?"

"Ciel," Rainbow said. "Ciel is a great point; Ciel's a human. Does Ciel suck?"

"Yes!" Neon squawked. "Ciel sucks a lot! She wouldn't even come out with us because she's-"

"Religious," Rainbow said.

"A prig," Neon insisted. "I am religious-"

"You?" Blake asked incredulously. "You are religious."

Neon gestured at Blake with both her hands. "Exhibit A of how much Ciel sucks: she is poisoning this innocent young mind about what the Faith of the Lady is really like."

"I'm only a year younger than you," Blake muttered.

Neon ignored her. "Don't let Ciel fool you; our religion doesn't demand that you be serious and judgemental all the time any more than it demands that you be a flag-waving Atlesian patriot. Ciel just is those things anyway because she wants to be. I have read the Epistles myself from cover to cover, and nowhere does it say that we're not allowed to drink, still less to have a good time. In fact, you could say that we are encouraged to have a good time: to everything there is a season, a time for all things under heaven. A time to sow and a time to get the drinks in." She spread out her arms on either side of her as a serving android, its face a featureless blue light that was nevertheless pointed in their direction, approached their table. "Yes, my good… android, we are ready to order."

"Orders will be transmitted directly to the bar," the android said in a robotic monotone. "What do you desire?"

"Two mint juleps," Neon said. To Blake, she added, "You're just a baby, so you'll have to make do with mocktails or fruit juice."

"Um…" Blake picked up the menu. "I'll have a virgin mojito."

"Make that two of those," Rainbow said.

Blake looked up. "The other mint julep isn't for you?"

"No," Neon cried, aghast. "Those are mine!" She looked at Rainbow. "That said, what are you doing having a mocktail?"

"I'm staying sober for when you're not," Rainbow answered.

"Blake can stay sober," Neon declared. "It suits her personality."

"I'm responsible for Blake; I can't get drunk and leave her to carry us home," Rainbow insisted.

"Will there be anything else?" the android inquired.

"No," Neon said, a little dispiritedly. She waved the robot away. "Off you go."

"Processing," the android said. "The price of these beverages is within the tab you have established at the bar. Your beverages will be brought to your table shortly." The robot server turned away and began to clank back the way that it had come.

"You know," Neon said. "I'd almost rather have a human waiter, but, like I said-"

"Humans suck," Rainbow finished for her.

"Do you have to?" Blake demanded. "It's not funny, and it isn't clever. People really-"

"Blake," Rainbow said. "Calm down."

"This might all be some big game to you, playing the contrarian, saying shocking things just so you can get a kick out of the way that you make people gasp in outrage-"

"If I did, I'd certainly be getting a kick out of you right now," Neon muttered.

"But those ideologies are embraced by people across Remnant and cause real harm-"

"Seriously, why is she here?" Neon demanded of Rainbow.

"Yes, why am I here?" Blake demanded in turn.

Rainbow let out a groan as she laid her forehead on the fluorescent table. She looked up. "Blake, you're here because you wanted to meet other Atlas students, well, here you go: another Atlas student, and a damn good one too. Neon, Blake's here because she's a friend and because… because I think she'd fit in up north, and because, like you just heard, she wants to meet other Atlas students. You're supposed to be helping me sell Atlas."

"I am a walking advertisement for Atlas," Neon declared. She struck a pose, one hand tucked behind the back of her head and the other making a scissor with her fingers at eye level. "How can you not want to attend an academy that has me in it?"

"Pretty easily," Blake said flatly. She glanced at Rainbow. "I'm going to powder my nose," she declared, getting up from her seat and leaving the booth, stomping off towards the bathroom.

Neon watched her go. "Now there's a cat who needs a sense of humour," she observed.

"Neon," Rainbow sighed.

"What?" Neon cried. "What did I do?"

"Do you remember how I punched you in the face the first time we met?" Rainbow asked.

"I remember that you tried," Neon responded.

"And I succeeded!"

"After I made you chase me all across the campus," Neon corrected.

"I still landed the punch, in the end," Rainbow insisted. "The point is that I really hated some of the things that you said when I first heard you say them. It was only after that detention the General put us in together that I actually started to get you, remember that?"

Neon grinned. "Swabbing up the cafeteria, how could I forget?"

Rainbow chuckled. "The point is that I get it," she said. "I get it, Flynt gets it, Ciel gets it; that's why we can make jokes about you being the White Fang's mole in Atlas. That's why Flynt can listen to you say all this stuff and let it roll off him. But Blake isn't like that; she doesn't know you like we do, and… she's got pretty good reasons to not be okay with all what with the fact that she, you know-"

"Actually was White Fang?" Neon suggested.

"I've been ordered to deny that," Rainbow pointed out.

"So that's a yes but with more calls to the propaganda department," replied Neon with a smug smirk.

"Hey, you want to tell Trixie that Blake's not an Atlesian super spy after she blew herself up saving a bunch of kids, be my guest," Rainbow declared. "Until then do you think you could maybe tone it down, just a little bit?"

Neon let out a huff as she leaned backwards. "Do you really think Blake will be happy in Atlas?" she asked.

"Yeah," Rainbow said. "Yeah, I really do. Don't you?"

Neon shrugged.

"Don't just shrug; why wouldn't she like it there?"

"Because it's full of humans, and they suck," Neon said.

Rainbow groaned. "Neon-"

"Phoebe came at me like she was ready to start a fight today," Neon said. "She thinks I swapped out her hair colour remover with hair dye."

"Did you?" Rainbow asked.

"Yeah!" Neon said enthusiastically. "She's another one who needs to get a sense of humour. The way she looked, I thought she was going to attack me. Instead, she just kicked up a fuss and convinced the teachers that I'd done it."

"Which you had."

"But she couldn't prove it," Neon insisted. "They believed her anyway because she's human."

"They believed her because she's Phoebe, and all the teachers think she's perfect," Rainbow corrected her.

"She wouldn't get away with half the things she does if she was a faunus, and you know it," Neon said. "The point is, I have been a victim of systemic racism, and I am entitled to vent about that tonight. Tonight which is supposed to be our night, ladies' night. Not little girls' night."

"Just try and get to know her a little," Rainbow urged. "Once you do, you'll like her, I promise."

"Am I always going to have to watch my words around her?" Neon asked. "Because I'm not sure how much I could like someone who's going to police my language. I'd rather be free to say what I like."

"I'm sure there's a lot of people who'd like to be free to say what they like and not have to watch their words before they call us uppity animals," Rainbow said. "Like Phoebe."

Neon snorted. "Phoebe doesn't have the guts to say something like that; she'd lose her good-girl image."

"You know what I mean."

"It's not the same thing," Neon insisted. "You want to think that it's the same thing, just like you want to think that me making sweet little Twilight cry is just as bad as someone pulling on my tail-"

"If someone pulled your tail, you'd kick their ass in a heartbeat," Rainbow pointed out.

"Damn straight I would," Neon agreed, "but not the point. The point is-"

"Being an ass is being an ass; that's all there is to it," Rainbow said. "And why would you want to make Twilight cry?"

Neon laughed. "Everything is so simple where you live, isn't it?" she asked. "Your world's like a picture book."

"And what's yours, a joke book?"

"Sometimes," Neon said. "But sometimes, it's an angry book full of mean words because I want to vent about stuff, and I should be able to do that without Blake Belladonna getting on my case about it."

"I... I'll talk to her," Rainbow promised. "I'm not sure if she's there yet, where she can take jokes about this kind of thing, but I'll talk to her."

"You do that," Neon said as Rainbow got up. "And remind her that we're better than them!" Rainbow didn't acknowledge that, but followed where Blake had gone into the bathroom, leaving Neon alone at their table. Alone with her thoughts and with the techno music blaring out.

"Ugh," she groaned. "Listen to me, complaining about Phoebe. I'm becoming some moody faunus rights activist. Only the actual moody faunus rights activist doesn't want to hear it. Ugh!" She laid her head down on the table with a thump.

Sometimes, it was difficult. You did your best to skate through life with a smile and a laugh, you acted out to show them that they couldn't push you down into that subservient or frightened mould, you talked up the superiority of faunuskind because they hated that, and you made fun of the people who showed how much it got to them.

But sometimes, you had to admit that it was getting to you too.

The sound of creaking robotic joints alerted Neon to the fact that the server was back with their drinks. That was enough to put a bit of a smile on her face as the robot put them down on the table.

"Please enjoy," it said before walking away.

"I plan to," Neon said, as she picked up one of her mint juleps. She paused, glancing around. "If you two could get back here soon so I don't look like a pathetic loser drinking alone, that would be really great," she muttered.

"Is one of those for me?"

Neon looked up to see the girl standing at the edge of the booth. Not Blake or Rainbow Dash, but a friend all the same. "Molly?"

"Hey, Neon," Molly grinned as she slid into the booth, reaching out with one hand to snag the other mint julep. Molly Abyssin was a short girl with dusky skin, pale blonde hair, and large violet eyes. She was originally from Vacuo, but she had family in Mantle, and her folks had come back to live there after a grimm attack destroyed her Vacuan home; it was in Mantle that she and Neon had met. "Long time no see, huh?"

"A couple of years, sure," Neon agreed. "I haven't seen or heard from you since you dropped out of Atlas."

"Yeah, well, some cats have their own style," Molly said. "Mine wasn't a great fit for Atlas."

"You could have stuck with it long enough to get your huntsman license," Neon said.

"I don't need one," Molly replied dismissively. "Who cares about a piece of paper once you have the skills, huh?"

"The people who might pay you money if you have that piece of paper, but won't if you don't," Neon replied. "I'm not sure I'm going to join the military when I graduate, but I want to be able to earn some lien. I'd like to be able to live somewhere a little nicer than a cardboard box on a street in Mantle."

"There are alternatives," Molly said.

"Like what?" Neon asked.

Molly didn't reply for a moment. "How's Atlas treating you these days, Neon Rainbow?"

Neon sipped her drink. "How long have you been listening to me and my friends?"

"Long enough," Molly admitted. "I'm not surprised. A place like Atlas will never get someone like you. Just like it could never get someone like me. They just can't accept that they'll never be as fine as us."

"Or as strong as us," Neon added. "Or as fast as us."

"They'll never be able to see in the dark like we can," Molly said. "We're better than they are in so many ways, and they hate that. That's why they have to spend so much time pushing us down."

"Nobody pushes me down," Neon declared.

"Yeah, they do," Molly said. "You pretend that they don't, but they do, don't they?"

Neon was silent for a moment. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You don't have to talk about it, but that won't make it any less true," Molly insisted. She shuffled closer to Neon. "Wouldn't it be nice if they all had to bow to us for a change?"

Neon glanced at her sideways. "You sound like-"

"I told you there was another way," Molly said. "A way where we don't need to kiss ass for their qualifications, where people don't care if you have the right license on your scroll; they just care that you have the skills. The right lethal skills."

Neon drained the rest of her cocktail. "How long have you been in Vale, Molly?"

"Not long," Molly said. "I just got here from Menagerie, thought I'd look up an old friend, see if you wanted to meet any of my new friends."

"Your friends who-"

"Let's not say anything that might get anyone into trouble, huh?" Molly suggested.

Neon snorted. "Right. But I'm right, aren't I?"

"They're afraid of us because we have power they can't imagine," Molly said. "They hate us because we can do the things that they can only dream of. We're better than them, and there's a place you can go that will recognise that."

Neon hesitated. It was... tempting. She was better than them. She was faster, stronger, she had night vision, she had... she had everything, and yet...

And yet, she had to laugh and smile and pretend that it didn't bother her because the world didn't give a damn that she was better; it was determined to think she was less.

So yeah, it was tempting. No more Phoebe, no more humans putting her down, no more having to pretend, no more being indulged by Rainbow because 'she didn't mean it really,' no more being the joke faunus who said so many shocking things and wasn't it cute? No more getting blamed just because she was a faunus.

No more riding second class on a first class ticket.

No more.

Yeah, it was tempting. Very tempting.

"Supposing I say yes," Neon said. "What happens then?"

XxXxX​

Neon's scroll rang, playing an upbeat techno tune.

She ignored it.

Molly, on the other hand, did not. She spun around to face Neon, her violet eyes wide. "What is that?" she demanded.

"It's just my scroll," Neon explained casually. "Probably Flynt wondering why I'm cutting class."

"You brought your scroll with you?" Molly yelled. "Are you stupid or something?"

"Well, depending on who you talk to," Neon said with a chuckle in her voice. "Come on, Mols, what's the big-?" The words froze in her throat as Molly pulled a revolver out of her pants and pointed it at Neon. "Ooooookay, you've got a gun. Looks new as well. Well, not new new, looks more like an antique, but new for you – at least I never saw it before – where did you get it?"

"Shut up, Neon," Molly said sharply. "And dump your scroll."

"Excuse me?"

"Scrolls can be tracked and traced, you idiot," Molly snapped. "Do you want to bring the heat down on us?"

"Of course not," Neon replied.

"Then dump it," Molly repeated. "Or I'll have to assume that-"

"That what?" Neon cut her off. "That this is a setup? That I'm some kind of traitor? That I'm trying to find out your base so I can sell you out back to Atlas?" She let out a gale of laughter. "Come on, Molly, if I was going to use my scroll so that I could be traced to your headquarters, don't you think that I'd be smart enough to put it on silent first?" She paused. "Actually, don't answer that." She got out her scroll and casually strolled over to a nearby trash can, into which she dropped the offending device in amongst the cans and the packets of crisps. "Happy now?"

Molly stared at her for a moment. "Yeah," she said, as she put the pistol away. "But we should get moving in case anyone comes looking for that."

"You're the one slowing us up," Neon said. "I could be there already if you had a speed semblance like me."

"Let's just go," Molly said, turning around and beginning to lead the way once more. "This isn't a game, Neon," she declared. "This is important. It's the most important thing. The future of our people is being fought for right at this moment. We can't afford to take risks or make mistakes."

Neon nodded. "Sure. I'm sorry. I didn't think."

"And that," Molly said, "is why you are stupid enough to forget to put your scroll on silent."

"Yeah, well, you're..." Neon paused, looking for something to insult her with. "You're short," she said.

"I like the fact that it took you time to notice that."

"I noticed it right away; what took me time was realising you're so boring that there's nothing else to comment on about you."

"Oh, I'm sorry that I don't have so many quirky traits that you could open up a quirky traits shop if you wanted to."

"What in Remnant is a 'quirky traits shop'?" Neon demanded. "Other than a great business idea. Maybe some sort of consultancy for the personality-challenged where we teach them how to appear interesting."

Molly rolled her eyes. "Between the hair and the outfit, I'm surprised that you don't have a madcap vehicle or an exotic pet, just to drive home what an eccentric you are."

"Well, you're still short," Neon retorted. She looked herself up and down. "And what's wrong with my outfit?"

Molly smirked. "If you don't know, I'm not sure I should be the one to tell you."

"Remind me why we're friends?"

"Because we both agree on the big things," Molly said. "Where we belong. Our place in the world."

"I'm not sure that either of us really belong here," Neon muttered.

They were walking down a well-to suburban street in midtown Vale, the kind of place where the houses had picket fences and two-car garages, although said garages didn't stop cars from being parked out on driveways. Neon thought she saw a lace curtain twitch in one window.

"It's not the kind of place you'd expect to find... people like us, is it?"

"No matter what 'people like us' means, the answer is still no," Neon replied.

"That's why it's the perfect place to hide out," Molly explained. "Take a good look, Neon; when things change, we'll be living in places just like this."

"Why would you want to?" Neon asked. "It looks really boring around here."

Molly didn't reply to that; she just kept on leading Neon into the depths of darkest suburbia until they came to a house with pinkish-lilac panelling upon the walls, where a red truck sat on a driveway with space for one other, absent, vehicle.

Neon felt eyes watching her as she followed Molly around the truck, up the drive, and to the front door of the house.

She rapped smartly upon the door.

"This is the place?" Neon said. "This?"

"Yep."

Neon stared for a moment. "Not what I expected."

"That's what we're counting on," Molly replied, as the door opened.

A goat faunus, with long horns curling past his ears, stood in the doorway. "Hey, Molly," he said. He nodded in Neon's direction. "Is this her?"

"No, Billy, I decided to bring someone else to our secret hideout," Molly said. "Are you going to let us in or not?"

Billy moved out of the way, letting Molly in through the door and then Neon after. Once Neon was through, he shut the door quite heavily behind them.

"Molly says that you're okay, that you can be trusted," he said. "If she's right, then we're cool. If not-" – he pulled a sleek Atlesian pistol from out of his waistline behind him – "-you're gonna be sorry, understand?"

Neon looked from the gun to Billy's stern face. "Everyone's so tense and serious around here," she said. "Do you need a massage?"

"Neon," Molly warned.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, this is serious," Neon said. "Excuse me."

Billy looked at Molly. "Are you sure about her?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Molly insisted. "She's Atlas-trained, just like me, which means we can use her. And she sees things the right way, don't you, Neon?"

"I see that we deserve to be on top and keeping them down instead of the other way around," Neon said. "I don't see why we can't have some fun doing it."

"Where's the boss?" Molly asked.

"In the basement, working," Billy told her.

"Thanks," Molly said. "Come on," she told Neon before her voice dropped to a hiss. "And whatever you do, don't get cute with the big guy. I mean it!"

"I'll try and be boring," Neon said as Molly dragged her through a surprisingly empty house. In the whole place, she saw, besides Billy, one other person, a huge rat faunus cleaning a shotgun in the living room while the TV played soccer highlights. "There aren't as many people here as I thought there would be."

"Some of them must be out on a job," Molly explained.

"A job?" Neon repeated. "You mean like-?"

"Need to know," Molly informed. "And you don't need to know right now. Come on."

She took Neon down into the basement, where another large faunus, this one a lion with a tail trailing down to the floor, guarded the door. His hair was long and black, and his face was scarred and set in a permanent scowl.

"This her?" he asked.

"Danny, this is Neon; Neon, this is Danny," Molly said. "Can we see the boss?"

"Maybe," Danny replied, banging on the door with one meaty fist. "Boss? Molly's back with her new recruit."

There was a moment of pause before a deep voice replied. "Very well. They may enter."

"Good luck," Danny muttered to Neon as he opened the door.

The inside of the basement had been converted into a workshop, with tools and wires and lonely dust crystals and all kinds of stuff like that littering the room. At the far end of the basement sat a man dressed in black, black pants and a black hoodie with the hood up. When he turned around, Neon saw that his mask, too, was black, with a face carved so as to look as though he was screaming.

"So," a deep voice issued out from behind the mask. "You are Molly's friend, Neon Katt, yes?"

Neon raised one hand. "Present," she said.

"My name," he said, but then halted for a little bit, "is not important. My enemies, and many of my allies too, know me as The Purifier, but it would be rather pretentious to insist upon that title amongst those working under me. You may address me as anything you like, so long as you obey my commands as the leader of the Vale Chapter of the White Fang."

"A chapter?" Neon said. "It looks more like a paragraph to me. And a short paragraph at that."

The Purifier chuckled. "Very witty, Miss Katt, and if the whole of our strength were here, then we would be a small group indeed, but have your studies at Atlas not taught that you a small group, possessed of extraordinary ability and resolve, may accomplish more than a great mass of ill-trained dross? Or why does Atlas train specialists to fight at the forefront of its armies?"

"I... stand corrected," Neon murmured.

"I do not say this to humble you," The Purifier declared. "Rather, if you take my meaning, then you will be proud, for you have been chosen to join our select group, working directly under me to take our vengeance for the oppression that has for too long been visited upon our people. Please, sit down."

Neon's tail flicked behind her as she hopped upon the empty stool he had indicated.

"Does it seem strange to you," The Purifier said, "that you should receive an invitation to join our ranks, and the day after, you are meeting with the leader of the White Fang in this kingdom?"

Neon folded her arms. "How do I know that you are the leader of the White Fang in this kingdom?"

"Neon," Molly said, "what are you doing?"

"You talk about how a small group of guys can accomplish a lot, and maybe that's right," Neon said, "but I have been unable to escape Rainbow Dash's boasting about how she fought the White Fang at the docks, and she says that there were hundreds of White Fang fighters there. Just like she boasts that she's beaten the leader of the White Fang twice, and you're not what she described."

"Neon, for God's sake-"

"How do I know you really are the White Fang, huh?" Neon demanded. "How do I know you're not some losers chilling out in your nice house playing revolutionary? How do I know I'm not wasting my time?"

"How dare you-?"

The Purifier raised his hand. "It's a fair question, Molly," he said quietly. "A question that I would expect a truly enthusiastic volunteer, who wished to join the fight, to ask. And, given the involvement of Atlas in the recent reverses suffered by the chapter, it is unsurprising that your friend would possess this information." He got to his feet, casting a shadow across the basement. "I am aware of Rainbow Dash," he said. "Is she a friend of yours?"

Neon shrugged. "Us faunus gotta stick together," she said. "She's more of a friend than most at Atlas. Molly knows that we went out last night together. But she was more interested in her precious Blake than me, just like she's more interested in Twilight Sparkle and her fancy human friends than in a fellow faunus or what we have to put up with."

"Then it would not grieve you if she were to die?" the Purifier asked.

He was looking at her. She couldn't see his eyes through the mask, but she knew, nonetheless, that he was looking at her. There was a crackle in the air. Neon sensed that honesty would serve her better than bluster, and so she said, "It would, a little bit. Rainbow... can be cool to hang out with. More than most."

"I see," the Purifier said. "Nevertheless, Rainbow Dash must die for her betrayal of the White Fang and all that we mean to our kind. Is that going to be a problem for you?"

Neon stared into the eye slits of his mask. "People die in war," she said.

"If only those who condemn my actions could see such a simple truth," The Purifier lamented.

"You still haven't answered my questions," Neon reminded him.

"I am the leader of the Vale Chapter," the Purifier declared. "I have newly arrived to replace Adam Taurus after his... failures. It is also true that he amassed a large force, but I have no need of them."

"No?" Neon asked.

"Tell me, Miss Katt, what should I do with an army?" the Purifier asked.

"You just agreed we were at war," Neon said. "So fight a war."

"Against Atlas in all its power?" the Purifier asked.

"Good point," Neon murmured.

"My weapons are not armies, Miss Katt," the Purifier explained to her. "My weapons are explosives, for which I need only a handful of loyal supporters to deploy the weapons and a few others to arrange my protection and carry out such errands as I require. That is the group – this group, which I brought with me from Menagerie – which you will be joining, if I choose."

"'If'?" Neon leaned forward. "And how will you choose?"

The Purifier was quiet for a moment. "You have not answered my question, Miss Katt," he reminded her. "Does it seem strange?"

"Not so much when you put it like that," Neon replied. "But... a little, I guess."

"Do you know what Molly's role in our little coterie is?" the Purifier asked. "Would you like to guess?"

Neon grinned. "I remember that our little Molly here liked to blow stuff up," she said. "So I'm guessing that she is... your apprentice?"

"Very perceptive, Miss Katt; Molly is indeed learning her trade at my hands. A bomb of her making will be employed very shortly against an enemy of the White Fang, in fact. She is... a true talent," he added, making Molly blush with pride. "And such is my trust in her that when she tells me that she has a promising new recruit for our number, I accept it without question or hesitation. I am prepared to welcome you, as you are, if only you tell me one thing: why are you here? Why do you wish to turn your back on Atlas and all its delights to join us in our uncertain struggle?"

"Because in Atlas, I will never be allowed to be anything," Neon said, "except be grateful for the opportunity to live among the clouds." She couldn't help but think about Dashie, so fawningly, pathetically grateful for the chance to be... what? General Ironwood's loyal attack dog? Did she ever think they'd let her anywhere near a seat of actual power? "Because they'll never let a faunus be anything in Atlas, and so no self-respecting faunus would want to. I choose to spread my wings, somewhere I can be whatever I want to be."

The Purifier was silent for a moment. "Welcome to the White Fang, Neon Katt," he said.

Molly whooped and patted Neon on the back so hard it was more like hitting her.

Neon grinned. "I just have one question."

"You have but to ask, Sister Neon."

Neon's smile widened. "Do we all get cool nicknames like yours?"

Molly squeaked in outrage, but The Purifier threw back his masked and hooded head and laughed, the sound of his deep laughter echoing off the walls of the basement.

"You will make a wonderful addition to our band, Sister Neon; I fear our business has made us all too grim and earnest. Now, come with me. Molly, get the bomb. Danny will drive, and you, little sister, you will come with us."

"Where?" Neon asked, as she got to her feet.

"To deliver the bomb to where it is needed."

XxXxX​

"Good afternoon, this is Lisa Lavender with the evening news. An explosion ripped through a small retailer in Elephant and Castle this afternoon, injuring two women, one of whom remains in critical condition. It is understood that the two women are students at Beacon Academy and that Pyrrha Nikos, the celebrated Mistralian tournament champion, rescued both of them from the flames immediately after the explosion. The police have confirmed that they are treating the explosion as suspicious and that they are seeking an employee of the retailer named Brick Featherstone to assist in their inquiries. We also have reports that the police conducted a raid on a property in Tressingham, although there is no confirmation that the events are connected."

"Turn that off," The Purifier commanded, and Molly switched off the TV.

The four faunus who had set off from the old safe house earlier that afternoon had been joined by Brick Featherstone, the squirrel faunus the police were seeking after the explosion, and five other armed faunus, none of whom were Billy or the other guy that Neon had seen in the old safehouse. They were either dead or in police custody.

Neon didn't know if these new guys were actually new or if they were more people that The Purifier had brought from Menagerie but who had, like them, been away from the safehouse at the time of the police raid.

She wasn't sure now was the best time to ask.

Whatever the case, they had all retired to another safehouse, one that was not quite so nice as the one that they had left behind: this was a house backing onto a freight rail line, where you could hear the trains clattering past every fifteen minutes or so to make the walls shake, where there was rising damp at the corners of the walls.

They had gone down in the world, which seemed about right.

The Purifier wasn't too happy about it. He had been on the scroll with someone a little while earlier, and he hadn't been in too good a mood when the conversation finished.

Perhaps it had been Adam Taurus. Perhaps The Purifier's hold on the Vale Chapter was not so tight.

It wouldn't have surprised Neon if it were so; by the sound of it, he had shown up in Vale with an order to take charge and a few followers. He couldn't make the old leader, who had more followers, do as he said.

At least not without going to where they all were and attempting to impose his will.

Perhaps that was where they were going next. Perhaps that was The Purifier's next move. He hadn't shared his plans yet.

Though, judging by the way that he was standing up in front of the now silent television, it looked as though that might be about to change.

He clasped his hands behind his back. "While we do not yet know the fate of our comrades, whether they are dead or in custody, know that I grieve for them as my brothers.

"I know that this must seem an inauspicious beginning to our venture here in Vale, the loss of so many members of our unit and the failure of our first attack. But we have had reverses before; those of you who have been with me long enough will remember Nisus and Euryalus, killed by Rutulus' men, or how Lamprey and Cyan were caught by the Argus police. We have always suffered losses, and always, we have risen again to triumph over our adversaries and strike fear into the hearts of all those who stand against our people. So it has always been and so it will be once more. Keep the faith. Stay with me. We are not defeated yet. As our enemies will learn very soon."

"Do we have a plan, boss?" Molly asked.

The Purifier was silent for a moment. "Although Brick detonated the bomb too early-"

"I was afraid they'd find it," Brick protested. "I thought that, at least we'd be killing huntresses, even if none of them was Belladonna."

"But you didn't kill any of them," Neon pointed out.

"It's not my fault the bomb didn't work properly!"

"My bomb was designed perfectly," Molly cried. "You must have messed up the placement."

"I had to put it somewhere out of sight! How about you design a real-?"

"Enough!" The Purifier shouted. "Only our enemies gain when we fight amongst ourselves. It had been my intent to target Blake Belladonna first, but with Sunset Shimmer in hospital, if we can assemble another bomb-"

"What if we didn't need a bomb?" Neon suggested.

"I'm not sure anyone needs to hear from you right now, baby cat," Danny muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Neon demanded.

"It means somebody sold out our safehouse to the cops."

"She tossed her scroll," Molly said. "And she wasn't alone at all from the moment she got to the safehouse."

"Somebody tipped them off," Danny said.

"We were undone by our own carelessness," The Purifier said. "It appears they followed the team sent to collect our supplier back to our hold out. We played into their hands. We will not do so again. Sister Neon, what is your proposal?"

"What if we could strike back at once and get Blake into the bargain?" Neon suggested.

"How?" The Purifier asked.

XxXxX​

Flash tried to take in every detail of the room in which he was held. It was a basement or a cellar; of that, he was certain; there were no windows, and the only light was a single unshaded bulb suspended from the ceiling above them, casting a light that was not quite bright enough to reach the corners of the room. He could see brick, uncovered with panels or wallpaper or anything like that, just red brick that was looking a little rough in places.

The floorboards beneath his feet were wood, with no carpet or anything else to cover them. He wouldn't want to walk across it in bare feet and no aura.

He tried to take in every detail, but unfortunately, there weren't a lot of details to take in. Certainly none that would tell him where they-

The room began to shudder; the light above them swung wildly back and forth as the thunderous sound of a train passing by echoed down into this cellar dungeon.

A train. We're near a railway line.

That didn't narrow it down tremendously, but it was a start. Now, if only he could…

Well, Flash wasn't sure him knowing where he was being held was going to help much, but he had to do something. He couldn't just sit here and wait for the White Fang to kill him. To kill them both.

He was chained to a chair, his hands bound behind his back. Blake was behind him, and from what he could tell from craning his neck back, she was facing the other way. If he stretched out his fingers, he could feel what he thought were her hands, although he couldn't reach far enough to undo her restraints.

Blake groaned.

"Blake?" Flash asked. "Blake, are you awake? Can you hear me?"

There was a moment's pause. "Yeah. Yeah, I can hear you. Which means I'm awake." Blake groaned. "Where are we?"

"A basement, close to a railway line," Flash said. "I don't know more than that."

"You know something," Blake said. "How do you know about the railway?"

"You just missed the train going by."

"Is that what that was?" Blake murmured. "I thought I dreamed that."

"No," Flash replied. "Do you know where we are?"

"I don't know the locations of all our safehouses," Blake answered. "Or even most of them. The truth is, I never engaged in any operations within the city." She stopped, and Flash was left with a sense that there was something that she wasn't saying.

"Go on," he urged.

"Why?" Blake asked. "There's nothing left to say."

"I doubt that."

"There are things that I don't want to talk about."

Flash might have pointed out that there wasn't much else to do around here, but he held his peace. Just because they were trapped together didn't make them close, and with what Blake knew about him, he didn't blame her for not wanting to spill her confidences to him. She was close to Sunset, so she probably thought that he was a monstrous racist heart-breaker. He was lucky she was talking to him at all.

"Fair enough," he murmured. "I guess there are things I don't want to talk about either." He paused. "I don't suppose there's any way you can get out of your restraints?"

He heard Blake shift and struggle a little. "No. You?"

"No luck," Flash said. "What are they going to do to us?"

Blake was silent for a moment. "They're not going to do anything to us, Flash," she said. "Because we're going to be rescued."

"You can't be sure of that."

"I am sure," Blake declared. "Our friends won't leave us behind."

"I know that, but what can they do?" Flash asked. "How are they supposed to find out where we are? The White Fang could come in and shoot us dead right now, and how would we stop them?"

Blake was silent for a moment. "Something will turn up."

"'Something will turn up'?" Flash repeated. "That… do you have any idea how that sounds?"

"I have an idea," Blake acknowledged. "But I also have faith." She paused. "On the first night at Beacon, before Initiation, I was sitting next to Sunset. I didn't want the company, but I get the impression that she knew that, and she sought me out because she didn't want company either. But it didn't really matter what either of us wanted because Ruby came over anyway. She wanted to talk to Sunset at first, but then she asked me about the book I was reading, and we got to talking about fairy tales. I thought she was naïve, and I told her so. 'The world isn't a fairy tale.'"

"Let me guess: and then Sunset asked 'who says?'" Flash said.

"How did you-?"

"Sunset and I used to date, remember?" Flash replied. "I know what she's like. I know how she thinks. I used to, anyway. She's changed since then."

"Not in every way, I don't think, or that much," Blake said softly. "But you're right. 'Why must we succumb to despair?' 'The world can be whatever we want it to be. We write our own stories. Nobody else can write them for you, nor force you to be anything less than the hero of your own life'."

Flash chuckled. "I can hear her voice when you say that."

"Not many people can sound like she does," Blake agreed. "Not many people can inspire like she does. I believe her. I didn't at first – I thought she was spouting nonsense – but now… I believe her. I choose to believe her. I choose to believe that this is our story, not theirs, that this is the kind of story where we're not abandoned by our friends but rescued, even if only in the nick of time. We'll get through this, Flash, I promise. I won't let anything happen to you."

Flash frowned. "Did you just promise to protect me?"

"Why not?" Blake asked.

"You've got no cause to like me."

"I've got no cause to dislike you either," Blake said. "And I think that… that keeping you safe is what Sunset would want me to do."

Flash snorted. "I'm not sure that having me alive instead of you is what Sunset would want."

Blake was silent for a moment. "I think you're very brave," she said.

"Huh?"

"It takes courage to face the fact that the person you love can't love you in the same way, that they're not capable of it," Blake said. "It takes even more courage to leave, to put yourself first, to say that… that you won't let yourself be hurt any more."

Flash looked over his shoulder at the back of Blake's head. "What are you talking about?"

"I think we both know what I'm talking about," Blake whispered.

"But… how do you know?" Flash asked.

Blake took a little while to answer, "I'd rather not say."

Flash smiled a little, for all that she couldn't see it. You may not want to say, but you don't have to. And that's okay.

"Flash," Blake said. "I… I'm sorry, about your father."

"You don't-"

"Yes," Blake said, "I do. I… I had no idea. And yet you've never held it against me, what I was."

"Wait, you mean you weren't an Atlesian undercover agent?" Flash asked, in a mock-aghast tone. "I'm appalled."

Blake let out a little chuckle. "Thank you," she said.

"Don't mention it," Flash murmured. "Hey, Blake?"

"Yes?"

"Why do you think they didn't take Weiss? Why us, why not her?"

"I… I don't know," Blake replied. "I was pretty out of it at the time, maybe… maybe they only had time to grab two people, maybe Weiss fought them off. I don't know."

"I'm glad that she's not here," Flash said. "I'm glad that, no matter what happens to us, she'll be okay."

"We'll all be okay," Blake insisted. "And you'll see her again, I guarantee it."

The wooden door into the cellar swung open, hitting the brick wall with a crash as a man walked in, a man dressed in black, with a hood up over his head and a black mask, a black screaming mask, covering his face.

"Krasny Krot," Flash growled. Here he was, the man who had killed his father.

Flash had meant what he said to Weiss: he hadn't really thought about it up until now. He had always known that his father had been killed by a bomb, but he had always attributed that to 'The White Fang,' a faceless mass, an organisation, an idea, a cause. He had never really thought about an individual, someone making the bomb, planting the bomb, detonating the bomb. He had never thought about a finger on the trigger, someone ordering his father's death. In part, that had been because it was easier not to blame the faunus if he didn't think about any individual faunus doing the deed. If he thought about a person, even a person in a mask, he had been worried that that person might start to look a lot like Sunset, or Rainbow Dash, or Ditzy.

But now… now he had a face, and a name, and a man standing before him with his hands drenched in blood. Flash tried to lunge forward, only for his restraints to pull him and hold him fast.

Krasny stopped. "You know who I am?" he asked, his voice deep as an ocean abyss.

"You weren't exactly trying to hide," Flash said. "You used your own passport to arrive in Vale."

Krasny chuckled. "When everyone is hunting for The Purifier, why should anyone stop Krasny Krot? Of course, I suppose that will have to change now. A pity."

Flash shook his head. "You won't get a chance to make that change. You're never getting out of Vale. You can do whatever you like to the two of us, but you will be caught, and you will spend the rest of your life in jail for what you've done!"

Krasny looked down at him. "That look in your eyes… you hate me, don't you boy?" He chuckled. "Tell me, who did I kill?"

Flash bared his teeth as he tried to lunge again, pulling futilely against his restraints. "My father," he growled.

"And so you want to kill me?" Krasny asked.

Flash was silent for a moment. "I want… I want…" I want my father back. "I want to know why."

Krasny Krot said nothing at first. When he spoke, his voice was calm and collected. "What is that you want from me, young man? Do you want me to spin a political manifesto before your eyes, to speak of the oppression of our people and of the many injustices that have been done to us? Shall I speak of how we are put down, forced to work like slaves in unsafe death traps, forced to risk our lives to earn our daily bread? How our homes are stolen from us along with all the sweat of our brow, of how all our attempts to leave behind the societies that degrade us are met with violence? How we are denied even the opportunity to see ourselves reflected in the media that we consume?"

He knelt down, and with one hand – his hands were cybernetic, Flash saw, both metal – he took off his mask, revealing a face transformed into a hideous mass of burned, melted, and malformed flesh.

"Or should I tell you that I am in pain every moment of every day, and so nothing will satisfy me but to spread that pain, my inescapable pain, out across the world until others scream as I did when I was trapped amidst the flames?" He put his mask back on. "There you have it. Two stories. Am I an idealist or a madman? The choice is yours. Whichever will make you feel more righteous in these last hours before the end."

"An idealist?" Blake demanded. "An idealist would never do what you have done. We will never win equality through death and destruction and the spread of fear."

"Did our kind not win freedom through death and destruction and the spread of fear, Blake Belladonna?" Krasny demanded. "But then, I would expect no other words to fall from a traitor's lips."

"If I had not betrayed the White Fang, I should have betrayed myself," Blake declared. "I'm not ashamed of what I did, and I do not regret it."

Krasny chuckled. "Do you expect me to admire the courage of your convictions? I do not. All I see is one who has turned her back upon her brothers and who must pay the price for it."

"What do you mean to do with us?" Flash demanded. "If you're going to kill us, then why not just do it on the road?" His eyes widened. "Bait. You want to use us as bait, don't you? You want people to come looking for us!"

"It's said, not least by Atlesians themselves, that they don't leave their comrades behind," Krasny said. "Is that true, Blake?"

"Yes," Blake declared. "Always."

"And what do you say, Sister Neon?" Krasny called. "Is it true that the Atlesians will always rescue a comrade in jeopardy?"

"If they like them, maybe," 'Sister Neon' said as she sauntered into the basement, a particularly feline smirk upon her face. "Like, I'm sure that they'll try and rescue Blake here, because everybody likes Blake. Everybody loves Blake." She moved out of sight of Flash; he twisted around to try and follow her as she stood in front of Blake. "Isn't that right? Everybody just loves you." She giggled. "It's hilarious when you think about it. You put on this act of being such a disaffected loner, and yet, literally everyone wants to help you out, even the General. Do you know how many times I've got to meet one on one with General Ironwood? Do you think he'd put his reputation on the line to spring me from jail?"

"Did you betray Atlas just because you're jealous?" Blake demanded incredulously.

"Jealous? Of you?" Neon laughed aloud. "Oh, honey, you're not that impressive. No, I joined the White Fang because-" She was cut off by the sound of the train rattling past the house, which drowned out anything that she might have had to say about her motivations. "Nobody heard a word of that, did they?" she asked.

"I'm afraid not," Blake said dryly. "Did we miss much?"

Neon growled wordlessly. "Blake, you've been hanging around with Ciel enough to have heard the phrase 'Flowers of the North' at least once, right?"

"Yes," Blake replied.

"Okay," Neon said. "So what do you do with flowers?"

"I… gave them to Sunset a couple of times," Flash ventured, not sure where this was going.

"Aww, that was sweet of you," Neon replied. "Did she like them?"

"I... think so?"

"And what did she do with them?" Neon asked.

"She put them in a vase until…" Flash trailed off as he realised exactly where this was going.

"Go on," Neon urged.

"Until they died," Flash finished. "And then she threw them away."

"Mm-hmm. That's why I'm with the White Fang," Neon declared.

"You won't get away with this," Blake snarled.

"Oh, Blake," cooed Neon. "I've already gotten away with everything."

"Our friends will come for us!" Blake insisted.

"Good," Krasny said. "That's what I'm counting on."

XxXxX​

"Hey," Cardin said, his tone diffident and uncertain as he walked towards her, cradling a steaming cup of something in his hands. "I thought that you might want some tea."

"No, I don't want tea; I want to find Flash!" Weiss snapped. She sighed. "But thank you anyway, Cardin; I shouldn't yell at you for something that's not your fault."

"It makes a change from getting yelled at for things that are my fault," Cardin ventured.

Weiss' eyebrows rose.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Not really the time." He sat down beside Weiss, at one of the empty desks in the Basement. Russel was sat across the way from them, doing something on the computer.

"We'll get him back," Cardin said.

"You don't know that," Weiss murmured.

Cardin was silent for a moment. "No," he admitted. "I don't know that. Sorry. Again."

Weiss clasped her hands together. "It doesn't make any sense," she said. "Why take Flash and not me? Blake, I suppose I can understand; she used to be one of the White Fang; they want to punish her for deserting them. Or at least, that's an explanation that makes sense. But why take Flash but leave me? I'm the heir to the Schnee Dust Company; my death would be the biggest coup the White Fang have ever accomplished!"

"Are you offended that you didn't get kidnapped?"

"Of course not!" Weiss snapped. "But… but if I had to choose… I'd rather that I'd been taken and Flash were here, looking for me."

Cardin was silent for a moment. "You know he'd hate that, right?"

"I didn't say that it was noble or smart, only that it was how I felt," Weiss said softly. "He doesn't deserve to die."

"I don't know that things are bound to work out," Cardin said. "But I do know that if dead bodies were all the White Fang wanted, they could have shot him in the wreck of that car, and Blake, and you. They want him alive for a reason, and that means that they'll probably keep him alive for at least a little while. Him… and Blake."

Weiss was silent for a moment. "You're more insightful than your performance in class would suggest," she murmured.

Cardin snorted. "Not really," he replied. "It just makes sense."

"But it doesn't help us find them," Weiss murmured.

"No," Cardin admitted. "But we will. Even if we have to kick down every door in Vale to do it."

The elevator door rose with a rattle and a clatter, admitting into the Basement a thin man, balding on top, wearing a blue pin-striped three-piece suit with a red tie. He walked in without acknowledging anyone, making a bee-line for Lieutenant Martinez as she sat at her desk, poring over notes.

The lieutenant became aware of the approach of the man in the suit before he reached her, and she got up and began to walk to him. "Captain Haskins. We don't often see you down here."

"The Commissioner suggested I should come down and see how you were doing," the man – Captain Haskins – said. "How are you feeling, DJ?"

"Feeling a little sick of people asking me how my head is," Lieutenant Martinez muttered.

Captain Haskins ignored that. "Do you have any leads on where they took the boy?"

"No, sir," Lieutenant Martinez admitted.

Captain Haskins tutted with disapproval. "I don't need you to tell you how serious this is, Martinez."

"No, sir, you don't."

"It's bad enough losing one of your own lads," Captain Haskins went on. "But he isn't even one of yours; you've only got him on loan. And he's an Atlesian, and you managed to lose their asset into the bargain! The diplomatic implications are-"

"The Atlesians managed to somehow not notice that one of their own students was a White Fang mole, and you're worried about what they think about all this?!" Lieutenant Martinez yelled. "How about, instead of worrying about what they're going to say, you and the Commissioner and Councillor Emerald get the Atlesians to let me up onto their ship to take a crack at Torchwick and shake out the locations of the White Fang safehouses?"

"The Atlesians say Torchwick won't talk."

"He'll sing once I've shattered one of his kneecaps, sir."

Captain Haskins stared at her. "This isn't a time for jokes, Martinez."

"I don't joke when one of our own is in trouble, sir," Lieutenant Martinez said. "I do whatever it takes."

"Damn it, Martinez, this isn't the old days any more; you can't just beat confessions out of people; suspects have rights!"

"Rights are a privilege, sir, one that the likes of Roman Torchwick forfeit when they step outside the law!"

"You're in enough trouble right now, Martinez, without crossing even more lines on a fishing expedition. Now what I suggest you do is-"

"Uh, excuse me," Russel said tremulously, raising one hand. "Um, Lieutenant, we're getting a call from the Atlesian fleet; they say it's urgent."

Lieutenant Martinez folded her arms. "Are you going to let me take this, sir?"

Captain Haskins adjusted his jacket. "Put them on the big screens, young man."

"Uh, yes, uh, sir," Russel said, his fingers hammering the keyboard.

The face of General Ironwood appeared on the screens, magnified to many times its actual size.

"Am I addressing Lieutenant Martinez of the VPD?" he asked.

"I'm Captain Haskins, Flying Squad," Captain Haskins said, and then gestured to his junior. "This is Lieutenant Martinez. What can we do for you, General?"

"We've just received some intelligence relating to the kidnapping of Blake Belladonna and Flash Sentry," General Ironwood said. "I'm forwarding the audio onto you now."

"Got it… sir," Russel said.

Lieutenant Martinez waited. "Well, go on, play the thing!"

"Oh, right, yes, Lieutenant," Russel yelped, and he hit a few more keys before the audio from the Atlesians began to play out through the speakers. Weiss got up when she heard Flash's voice, and Blake's, talking to a man whom Flash at least seemed to believe to be Krasny Krot. They were joined by Neon Katt, who was interrupted by a loud, thunderous rumbling that drowned her out for a while before she resumed speaking. Everything was said to one another, none of it for the audience listening through the scroll, as if none of the people in the room had known that they were being recorded.

But it was Flash's voice. It was definitely Flash's voice. He was alive! Or at least, he had been when that recording was made.

"How did you get this?" Lieutenant Martinez asked.

"A call received by one of my students," General Ironwood said. "The number was anonymous, and we haven't yet had any luck tracing the call. But we only got the call a short while ago, and we believe that it was happening live, not a recording."

"They talk about using them as bait for a trap," Cardin pointed out.

"Yes, but if they were trying to lure us into a trap, they wouldn't have sent us audio talking about a trap, would they?" Lieutenant Martinez asked.

"That's a good point," Cardin conceded.

"So we know that Flash and Blake are alive, even if we don't know where they are," Weiss said.

"We might not know where they are exactly, but we've narrowed it down," Lieutenant Martinez said. "That was a train going by, and close by too."

"Really?" Russel said. "Are you sure about that?"

"Yes, I'm sure; I know what a train sounds like," Lieutenant Martinez said. "Why, do you have something?"

"I might have," Russel said. "I've been looking at the property that we raided earlier, the one The Purifier was using at their safe house. Now, that house is owned by the Eastern Promise Holding Company; now, I can't find any actual people connected to the company, but I can tell you that they own other properties across Vale including-" – he typed on the keyboard to bring up a map of Vale, with one particular property in the south of the city marked with a red arrow – "14 Leadenham Close, which is right on the railway line to Alexandria."

"Great work, Russel!" Lieutenant Martinez cried. "Okay, gear up, let's go!"

XxXxX​

Neon was sitting in the living room, doing a little light maintenance on her nunchuks, when Danny walked in, his heavy tread making the floorboards creak. "Have you seen my scroll?"

Neon looked up at him. "Why would I have seen your scroll? I haven't even seen you using a scroll."

"I can't find it," Danny said.

Neon sat up a little. "Where did you have it last?"

"In the kitchen, maybe; I don't really remember."

"Why don't you look for it?"

"I have looked for it, and I can't find it; that's why I'm asking if anybody's seen it," Danny replied irritably.

"Sorry," Neon said, not sounding very sorry. "I haven't seen it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"What's going on?" Molly demanded as she came in.

"Danny here has lost his scroll," Neon told her.

"Why don't you look for it?" Molly suggested.

"I'm not a moron; that's the first thing I did," Danny growled. "Have you seen it?"

"No," Molly replied. "Where did you have it last?"

"Oh, this is hopeless," Danny muttered and walked off towards the other door out into the kitchen.

Molly shook her head. "Neon, come with me; the boss has a job for you."

"Ooh, what?" Neon asked, getting up out of the ratty armchair in which she had ensconced. "Is it cool? Is it dangerous?"

"It's the last test of your loyalty to the White Fang," Molly informed her, as she turned away.

"'Test'?" Neon repeated as she followed after. "You mean you don't trust me yet, Molly?"

"I trust you," Molly confirmed. "Think of this like an Initiation, like at Atlas."

"Are you going to throw me off the roof?"

Molly chuckled. "No. This will be much more fun, I promise."

She led Neon down into the cellar, where Blake and Flash were tied up. Flash squirmed in his chair to keep his eyes on her, while Blake sat still, only glancing Neon's way out of the corner of her eyes.

Molly drew her pistol and then handed it to Neon.

Neon glanced down at the gun. "I thought they were bait."

"They don't need to both be alive in order for people to try and rescue the one who is," Molly pointed out. "And since we haven't had the best luck so far, the boss doesn't want to push it. It's your choice which one you kill."

Crap! Neon had not seen this coming. Okay, she hadn't seen a lot of things coming, which was why she'd been flying by the seat of her hot pants ever since Molly had forced her to dump her scroll, but this? She had just about managed to keep control of the situation thus far – suggesting that they take prisoners rather than just blowing up the hospital first chance they got; stealing Danny's scroll and using it to call Dash – but this? She didn't know if Twilight had been able to trace her call yet. How was she supposed to stall shooting one of these two in the head until help arrived?

Why couldn't I have just remembered to put my scroll on silent?

Her gaze flickered between Blake and Flash. Blake was looking at her now, looking her right in the eyes.

"No!" Rainbow cried. "No way, this is… this is the stupidest plan I have ever heard!"

"That's because you don't hear your own plans," Neon said.

"I'm being serious, Neon," Rainbow replied. "You want to take up this offer and join the White Fang? What the hell?"

"When are we going to get a better chance than this?" Neon demanded. "We could find out where their base is, where their leadership is, what they're planning. We could find out all of it! We could end this right here, right now!"

"Or you could get made and killed for nothing," Rainbow said.

"It's worth the risk," Neon insisted.

"No, it isn't!"

"Yes, it is!" Neon shouted back at her. "I don't know exactly what you and Blake and all your other friends have found out, but I know enough from watching the news: I know the White Fang have a crapload of dust, and they're going to use it if we don't stop them."

"And you think you can stop them?" Blake asked. "You want to stop them?"

Neon looked at her, elbows resting on the table. "Why don't you ask the question we all know you want to ask?"

"Why would someone like you be willing to die for a human city?" Blake asked quietly.

Neon was silent for a moment. "Because I'm stronger than they are," she said. "And so I should be the one to run the risks."

Blake's nod was slight, almost imperceptible. "This may cost you more than your life," she said. "It may cost you your soul."

Neon hadn't understood what she meant by that, last night in the club, but now, she did. Now, as she felt the weight of the pistol in her hands, she understood very well.

When it came to a choice between Blake and Flash, there really was no choice.

This was what one of them had signed up for.

She walked around the edges of the room and levelled her pistol, pointed right between Blake's golden eyes.

"No!" Flash cried, trying desperately to break free of his restraints. "No! Don't do this! Leave her alone! Take me instead!"

Neon cocked the revolver. The pistol didn't waver in her hands, because she knew what she had to do.

Blake's expression was without fear. She stared down the barrel of the gun without emotion.

"All flowers die," Neon whispered.

Blake's eyes widened as Neon turned and shot Molly in the gut. Molly staggered backwards as Neon fired again.

The pistol clicked.

Neon looked down at the gun that she now realised had only had one shot in it. "You didn't trust me after all, huh, Molly?"

"I was right not to trust you wasn't I, huh, Neon?" Molly replied. She started to shout. "He-"

Blake's shadow clone disappeared from the seat, even as the real Blake caught Molly with a spinning kick that sent her flying across the cellar. Blake closed the door as Neon dashed around Flask to kick Molly in the face before she could get up, a kick so hard that it flipped her over onto her back.

She looked up at Neon, face twisted into a snarl. "Why?" she demanded.

"Because I'm stronger than they are," Neon said. "And so I protect those who are weaker than me; I don't hurt them because I can." She brought her foot down upon Molly's face, shattering her aura and laying her out. "Plus, can you really see me in a white mask and a black hood, because I can't! Can you imagine how unflattering that would be, huh?"

Neither of her two companions seemed to find it funny. At all.

"Nothing?" Neon asked. "Really?"

"Could you have gotten out of those restraints any time?" Flash demanded.

"I'm afraid so," Blake admitted.

"Then why didn't you?" Flash demanded.

"It would have been better to wait for rescue," Neon said. "Except that a certain speedster hasn't gotten her butt in gear to actually rescue us yet, so-"

"So you should have killed me," Blake said.

"Excuse me?" Neon gasped.

"Now that you've blown your cover, we'll never find out where the base of the main White Fang force is."

"Never say never."

"You know what I mean; you should have put the mission first."

"How would I explain it to Dashie if I shot you in the face?" Neon demanded.

"Tell her that the mission demanded it."

"Would you shoot Rainbow because the mission demanded it?" Neon asked.

Blake looked away.

"That's what I thought," Neon said. "Anyway, it's done now, so what are we going to do?"

"Maybe one of you could let me out?" Flash suggested acerbically.

"Oh, yeah, right," Neon said. "Sorry," she added as she undid his restraints.

"It's okay; I'm just glad you're on our side," Flash said, as he got up. "But you're right: we need a plan."

A gunshot sounded from upstairs, then another, then it sounded like the whole house was being lit up with shooting.

Neon grinned. "Seems like the cavalry arrived. And about time, too."

XxXxX​

Flash bounded up the stairs, leaping over the body – dead or unconscious, he couldn't say – of a faunus at the top of the stairs as he entered the hall. Gunfire echoed from the upper floors, including Rainbow Dash's shotgun if his ears were still working right. He caught sight of Cardin standing in the doorway to one of the rooms leading off from the hall, beating a large lion faunus down with his mace.

"Cardin!" Flash called.

Cardin looked at him, blue eyes wide. "Flash! How did you-?"

"Have you caught The Purifier?" Flash demanded, shouting to be heard over the gunfire.

"I don't think so," Cardin yelled back. "We're still-"

He was interrupted by another fighter of the White Fang charging out of a side room, wielding a double-headed axe in two hands. Cardin parried the blow with his mace before hitting his opponent in the face.

Flash left him to it. Cardin was bigger than his opponent, and there was no doubt in his mind that he would win the fight; in the meantime, they had to get The Purifier. This might be their best chance to catch him before he could set off any more bombs, before he could blight any more families.

And so Flash ran to the back of the house, into the kitchen, where he saw that the window had been smashed – and Krasny Krot was running towards the railway line.

"No. No!"

"I'm sorry, Missus Sentry. Your husband was a good man. He'll be sorely missed."

The honour guard firing a volley. The commanding officer carefully folding up the flag and handing it to him. His mother crying on the staircase. Images raced through Flash's mind as he leapt out of the window and gave chase, legs pounding, a wordless shout issuing from his lips.

The soil beneath his feet was black and soft, almost more like compost than dirt, and he slipped a little as he ran, sank slightly into it once or twice, and wasn't able to move as quickly as he would have liked.

There was a train coming, a train thundering towards them down the line, pounding upon the iron rails. Would it cut off Krasny's escape or Flash's pursuit? He couldn't take the risk. He had to catch this man, he had to stop him, he couldn't let any more families suffer what he had suffered.

Krasny kept running towards the railway line. He had no intention of stopping for the train; he acted as though it wasn't even there, no matter how close it got to him, no matter how it bore down upon him. He scrambled up the railway cut even as the train barrelled down the track, and for a moment, Flash thought he would be struck as he crossed the line, but he was just too fast, just too lucky, and he dived across to the other side of the line a second before the train roared past.

And kept on roaring. It was a long train, laden with goods wagons that paraded by in a long, unceasing tail, offering no respite, no gap, no way through, that stretched on in either direction. By the time he waited for the train to pass, it would be too late, and yet, he had no choice but to wait.

He had no choice but to let Krasny get away. To let him go free to continue his campaign of terror.

No choice but to fail.

"Flash!"

Flash turned, and upon instinct, he caught Caliburn in one hand as it was thrown through the air towards him, his fingers closing around the spear's solid shaft.

Weiss stood upon a shimmering white glyph about an inch above the soil. A slight smile graced one corner of her lip. "I think you'll be needing that," she said. "Now, climb on." She gestured with her free hand to the black glyph that she had conjured up beside Flash.

He would thank her later. For now, there was no time to do anything but to climb up onto the glyph and let it catapult him up into the air, over the passing train to land, feet first, knees buckling beneath him, on the other side.

The other side where he could still see Krasny Krot running, still close enough to be caught.

Flash started to run, but he had not gone too far when he caught sight of the line of white glyphs rolling out beside and in front of him, like a road of shining samite leading to his quarry. He leapt aboard, sliding atop the surface of the glyphs, covering the ground faster than he could have managed on foot, borne along by Weiss's semblance until he was ahead of Krasny, leaping off the glyphs and slamming the butt of his spear into Krasny's face.

Krasny staggered backwards. Flash pursued him, swinging his spear in a wide arc to catch his enemy across the side of the head. He thrust forward, driving the point into Krasny's belly, then hit him in the face – the mask at least – with the shaft when he doubled over. Caliburn switched to sword mode fluidly in Flash's hands as he slashed swiftly, striking across the face and body to tear through Krasny's aura before transforming his weapon back into spear form for a final strike that shattered Krasny's mask and aura both to dump him on his back upon the dark, soft soil.

Flash stood over him, Caliburn raised and poised to strike. Krasny's aura was gone. A single strike now would be the end of it. A single strike would ensure that he never hurt anyone ever again.

Krasny laid his head back upon the ground. "Kill me then," he said. "Kill me and have your revenge."

I don't want revenge. I want my father back.

"Do it!" Krasny yelled. "One thrust, one single blow! Do you think I hesitated before I killed your father, you weak, cowardly boy!"

Flash bared his teeth, drew Caliburn back-

"Flash!" Weiss cried, gliding towards him upon a line of glyphs just like the ones she had used to hasten him upon his way. She leapt down nimbly, gracefully, her white dress shining against the earthy darkness of this place. "Flash," she repeated, more softly this time and more gently. "It's over."

Flash glanced down at his enemy before him, and then back up at his teammate, his partner, his…

His gaze flickered between the two of them. His enemy was contemptible. He deserved death, if any did. But then, Flash had seen what holding on to your anger and bitterness could do, hadn't he? He didn't want to become like Sunset, not even a little bit.

Between the two people before him, there was no choice at all.

Flash found that there were tears welling up in his eyes. He lowered Caliburn. "I'm not like you," he growled. "I won't… I'm not like you."

"You are more like me than you wish," Krasny said. "Like my injuries, the pain you suffer will never go away."

"No," Flash agreed. "It won't. Just like you'll go away, for the rest of your life, and you'll never hurt anyone ever again. Krasny Krot… you're under arrest."

XxXxX​

Pyrrha could not deny that it was with a sense of relief that she sat down at Sunset's bedside, her mind put at ease by the knowledge that Team WWSR had apprehended the bomber.

She might not have been able to protect Sunset, but the fact that somebody had… that was enough for today.

Quite enough for today.

She opened up The Mistraliad, pressing down on it so that Sunset's letter did not fall out again. Pyrrha's eye glanced down the page until it alighted upon one of the most famous passages, one of the ones which spoke to her the most and which, she believed, would speak to Sunset as well. It was the speech spoken by Lycia to Glauce as they prepared to assault the Elusinian camp.

"'Friend of my soul,'" Pyrrha read, "'were it that, one we were away from this war, we should live forever free from age and death, neither would I myself fight among the foremost, nor would I send thee into battle that ennobles men. But now-'"

"'But now,'" Sunset murmured. "'For none the less ten thousand fates of death surround us – aye, ten thousand of them – let us go, and see whether we shall yield glory to another or they to us.'" She glanced at Pyrrha, her eyes fluttering. "Hey."

"Sunset!" Pyrrha gasped. "You're… thank goodness!" She reached out and clasped Sunset's hand fiercely in her own. "How… how do you feel?"

Sunset struggled to sit up.

"Don't," Pyrrha urged. "Just stay where you are."

Sunset groaned. "What I feel… what I feel is tired and a little groggy, if that makes any sense at all." She frowned. "Hey, Pyrrha?"

"Yes, Sunset."

Sunset hesitated. "That's The Mistraliad, isn't it?"

Pyrrha nodded. "It is."

Sunset licked her lips. "You didn't, um, did you-?"

"I would prefer not to fight a duel over Blake as though she is a prize to be won," Pyrrha informed her.

Sunset groaned once more as she flopped back onto her pillow. "I asked you not to be awkward about it!"

"I'm not being awkward," Pyrrha replied. "I'm simply pointing out that-"

"Teams are supposed to be four people; you'll need to replace me if I go!"

"What about Team Iron; where are they supposed to be a fourth teammate from?"

"I don't care about Team Iron; I care about our team and about Blake."

"I'm sorry, Sunset, but I cannot bring myself to treat Blake like an object," Pyrrha said primly. "I'm very glad that it's all turned out to be irrelevant."

"So am I," Sunset agreed. "Trust me, so am I." She paused for a moment. "So, what did I miss?"

XxXxX​

The bar was called Pride's, and slightly old-fashioned jazz music was coming from inside, spilling out into the street alongside the noise of celebration. Lieutenant Martinez – or DJ, as they were apparently to call her off duty – had brought them to celebrate a successful conclusion to their first case. Cardin and Russel were already inside with the police.

Flash, on the other hand, was still lingering outside, the light from within casting a shadow out into the street.

Weiss approached Flash; he didn't seem to notice as she did so, until she said, "Flash? Do you mind if I join you?"

"I… no," Flash said quickly. "No, that's fine." He stepped to one side a little, so that they did not obstruct the way in too much. "We… we had a good day, didn't we?"

By any reasonable measure, that was true: The Purifier was in custody, and the White Fang's bombing campaign stopped before it could start. It had been a good day, and all things considered, it had been a good mission for Team WWSR. But, absurd as it might seem, none of that mattered right now.

"How are you doing?"

"I thought that I might feel better," Flash replied, his voice a little hoarse. "But I don't."

Weiss gently reached out, and took his hand in hers. "I'm sorry to hear that," she murmured. "But not surprised."

"Because pain doesn't go away?"

"Because it can't be vanished," Weiss said. "Not even by defeating the person who dealt the hurt."

Flash nodded. "Then… what do we do?"

"Live?" Weiss suggested. "And take comfort from the fact that he can't hurt anyone anymore."

"Right," Flash agreed, a touch of amusement entering his voice. "Today was a good day, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Weiss said. "Today was a very good day."

XxXxX​

The music in the Iceberg Lounge pulsed fiercely.

"Well," Neon said. "We didn't get the result that we wanted-"

"But we got a result," Rainbow said. "Stopped a bad guy. Saved you," she nodded towards Blake.

"Hmm," Blake murmured.

"Don't look too happy about it!" Neon cried.

"Sorry," Blake muttered. "It's just… Adam is still out there, and back in control – if he was ever not in control. We're right back where we were yesterday."

"Could be worse," Neon told her. "We could be worse off than we were yesterday."

Blake seemed to consider that for a moment. The corner of her lip twitched upwards. "Yes. Yes, I suppose that's true."

"And as for stopping all the others," Rainbow said. "There's always tomorrow."

Blake's smile widened just a little. She raised her virgin mojito. "To tomorrow," she said.

"To tomorrow!" Rainbow and Neon agreed, raising their glasses to clink against hers, before each taking a strong swig out of their glasses.

Neon gasped. "I needed that after the day that I've had," she said. "And you ought to have a real drink too, after the day you've had," she added to Blake.

"I'm a baby, remember?" Blake reminded her.

"Who's to know?" Neon asked.

"Yang, when I get back to the dorm room," Blake said.

"Ah, one of those team leaders," Neon said. "Suit yourself, I guess." She downed some more of her own thoroughly alcoholic cocktail. "You know," she said with a sigh, "I'm glad we stopped the bomber, and I'm glad we saved Blake, but… I don't think I'm cut out for undercover work."

"No," Blake agreed. "Definitely not."

"It was… not fun," Neon said. "Next time I have an idea like that, tell me how stupid it is."

"I did," Rainbow pointed out.

"Well, make me listen to you next time," Neon told her. "It's the battlefield for me from now on."

"As a huntress," Blake asked. "Or as a specialist?"

"Why do you wanna know?"

"I… I suppose I want to know how much of what you said last night was genuine," Blake said.

Neon grinned. "I told you that I'll fight for everyone who's weaker than me; that includes in the army too. Someone has to protect Dashie, isn't that right?"

Rainbow snorted. "After what you've been through, I'll let you have that one for free."

"That's what I like about you, Dash: you're always so considerate," Neon said, before she finished off her drink. "Well," she declared. "I. Am going to dance. Excuse me, ladies." She stood up, and sidled out of the booth, leaving Rainbow and Blake alone.

Rainbow was silent for a moment. "Neon… told me what happened in that cellar."

Blake was stony-faced. "If she had been more committed to her mission-"

"Then you'd be dead."

"We might have a lead on Adam's base, his plans-"

"And you would be dead," Rainbow repeated, raising her voice a little. "Blake," she added, sighing, "I want to watch your back, but you have to watch mine too."

"I do!" Blake cried. "I will."

"It only works if you want to see the end of the battle as much as I do," Rainbow informed her sternly.

Blake scowled. "Like Ruby, I'm prepared to die, but I don't welcome it."

Rainbow's brow furrowed. "I wish I could take your word for it."

"Shouldn't we all be prepared to give our lives for the success of the mission?" Blake demanded.

"Some victories are worth less than the lives spent to win them," Rainbow said. "Ask Ciel for an example; I don't remember the specifics. We'll get Adam another way, a better way. Walking over your dead body to get to him… it wouldn't have been worth it."

"I disagree," Blake whispered.

"I know," Rainbow muttered. "That's what worries me."

XxXxX​

Cinder stood upon a bridge, watching as the police van containing the so-called Purifier drove towards her, moving down the freeway on its way to prison.

"Cinder," Emerald murmured, "are you sure that this is a good idea?"

Cinder smirked. "Of course it's a good idea, Emerald," she said, as a bow of obsidian formed in her hands, shards of glass flying into place. "It's my idea." She drew back the bow and loosed a black shaft downwards. It slammed into the surface of the road, where it began to glow, pulsing with waves of orange light.

Cinder's smirk widened.

The arrow exploded just as the black VPD van drove over it, the blast throwing the vehicle up into the air atop a column of fire. So high rose the van that, for a moment, it was almost as high as Cinder and Emerald on the bridge above, before it fell, spinning wildly in the air, landing heavily on its roof with a sickening crunch as the walls crumpled and the windows shattered.

Cinder chuckled. "Tell me, Emerald, do you think a bomb maker coming to grief from an explosion qualifies as being hoist by one's own petard?"

Emerald hesitated. "I… I don't know what that means, Cinder."

Cinder sighed. "No. No, I suppose you don't, do you?" Emerald's skills were valuable, but like all of Cinder's associates, she was lamentably uneducated and lacking in sophistication.

Sunset, she was sure, would have understood what Cinder meant.

"But I'm sure you're right," Emerald said quickly, albeit too late.

"Mmm," Cinder murmured, as she watched Mercury and Lightning Dust descend upon the stricken vehicle, slaying the surviving police officers with brutal efficiency. "They look like they're having fun, don't they?"

"Yeah," Emerald muttered. "Fun."

Cinder laughed. "Emerald, are you squeamish?"

"N-no!" Emerald cried. "Not at all, I just… sorry, Cinder."

"Wait here," Cinder said. "Keep watch for any police reinforcements coming."

Emerald looked a little sullen at being left behind, but nodded. "Will do."

"Good girl," Cinder said softly before she leapt down from the bridge onto the freeway below. She landed heavily, her knees buckling as she pounded the ground with one fist, looking like the hero from some big budget extravaganza. The thought pleased her and put a smile on her face as sharp as a knife as she strode around the ruined police van, stepping delicately over the body of a dead police officer, to approach the rear.

Mercury and Lightning had already ripped the rear doors off and killed the cops they had found there. Only The Purifier himself remained, hanging from the floor – which was now the ceiling – by the chains that restrained him. He squirmed futilely, wriggling and writhing like a worm on a hook.

"Who are you?" he demanded. "What do you want with me?"

"You thought that you could touch the things that were mine," Cinder said coldly. "You thought that you could break them with impunity. You thought that you had power, and I had none." She held out one hand, and fire sprouted in her palm, flickering red and gold. The Purifier mewled in pain as he flinched away from it. "I will show you where power truly lies."

"No!" he cried. "No, please, anything but-"

Cinder held out her hand, and the hungry flames leapt from her hand to consume the van's interior.

The Purifier screamed as the fires consumed him, burning him in his chains like meat left too long upon the spit. He screamed. He writhed. He burned. He died.

And Cinder watched. She watched while Mercury and Lightning Dust turned away; she watched as the firelight's reflections danced in her eyes; she watched, and she listened to him scream, and she smiled.

A dead enemy was always a thing of beauty, but to kill them by fire, that… that was the most beautiful of all.

What a pity that Sunset wasn't here to share it with her.

 

[ScipioSmith]

A Sense of Safety​

Sunset walked into the dorm room and picked up her jacket off the bed.

She noticed Pyrrha sitting on her bed, looking down at her scroll.

"Are you about to call your mother?" Sunset asked. "Or have you done it already?"

Pyrrha started. "Sunset!" she said. "I didn't hear you come in!" Her eyes narrowed a little. "No," she added, her voice gaining a little weight. "I mean, I have called her already."

Sunset's eyebrows rose. "Really? You kept that to yourself."

"You were… indisposed, at the time," Pyrrha murmured.

"'Indi-' oh," Sunset said. "Oh." She sat down on her bed, elbows resting upon her knees. "Um, was it…? I mean-"

"I thought she ought to know," Pyrrha said. "About your… condition."

"I see," Sunset said softly. Her ears drooped downwards a little bit, even as she bowed her head and lowered her eyes away from Pyrrha. "Thank you."

"There's nothing-"

"Yes, there is," Sunset insisted, looking up once more. "There absolutely is." She paused, taking a deep breath. "I know that I give you grief about not speaking to your mother, and I know that it must seem sometimes as though I am indifferent to your grievance. I'm not. I know that you have cause to be upset, even if I disagree with how you've reacted to it. My point is… you didn't have to speak to her on my behalf, and the fact that you were willing to do so anyway is… I understand what it meant for you to take that step, and I am grateful."

Pyrrha was silent for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was soft, and Sunset had to strain with all four ears to hear her. "The doctors… nobody could tell me for certain if you would live or not," she said. "It made… I couldn't put my disagreements with my mother over that. She would have been upset to learn of your death, and almost as aggrieved to find that you had perished and I had not told her of it. She's very fond of you."

"I'm rather fond of her as well," Sunset replied. "Which is why it might sometimes appear as though I take her side. Thank you, for telling her." She smiled, ever so slightly. "Although, now that you've told me that you told her that I was in danger, it behooves me now to tell her that I am out of danger, doesn't it?"

"Yes," Pyrrha agreed. "Yes, I suppose it does."

"Unless you have told her yourself?" Sunset asked.

"No," Pyrrha replied. "No, we have not spoken but that one time."

"And you have no plans to do so again, do you?"

"I do not," Pyrrha said, her voice gentle but firm at the same time.

Sunset shook her head. "They say that grief, like a tide, washes away old disagreements and long-held grudges. For all its pain, it has the power to bring people together."

"But you have recovered and are right as rain," Pyrrha pointed out. "What is there to grieve?"

"Please don't tell me that I'll have to actually die in order to get you and your mother talking to one another," Sunset groaned.

"No!" Pyrrha cried. "Of course that's not what I… you're teasing me, aren't you?"

"In part," Sunset replied. "I'm beginning to worry that it might come to that." She frowned. "But in all earnestness… don't you think that what happened… don't you think that it should prompt you to think about things?"

Pyrrha sighed. "It did prompt a great deal of thought on my part."

"That's good to hear," Sunset said. "What did you think about?"

Pyrrha hesitated, looking down at the red sash that trailed away from her across her bed. "I was… I suppose that I was feeling guilty, about the fact that I couldn't save you."

"From a bomb that you didn't know was there?" Sunset asked.

"If I can only protect my friends from monsters whom I can see, then I… am only useful in very specific situations, aren't I?" Pyrrha asked. "Or should I say 'aren't we?' considering that you couldn't save yourself from that bomb either."

"If you must," Sunset muttered. It wasn't something that she particularly wanted to think about. "I don't see how anyone, be they the greatest hero who ever lived, could have defended themselves against an attack they didn't see coming."

"That's rather the point, don't you think?" Pyrrha suggested. "If that is so, then… I began to wonder if the idea of a hero still means anything in this day and age."

"If it does not, then that says more about the decline of this day and age then about the idea of a hero," Sunset declared. "Although I'm not sure who you think could have done something about a bomb they didn't know was there and had no reason to suspect might be there better than a hero could have."

"Yes," Pyrrha murmured. "You make a very good point."

"The way I see it, it all comes down to just one question," Sunset went on. "What is a hero's purpose?"

"To protect the people," Pyrrha answered at once. "To be their leader in war, their champion, their… shepherd."

"And to inspire them, wouldn't you say?" Sunset asked. "To give them hope, to be a light in dark places, to show them virtues they would not otherwise dream of?"

Pyrrha was silent for a moment. "Are you about to tell me that people still need to be inspired, even though the times have changed?"

"The times may have changed, but the people have not," Sunset said. "They still need hope as much as ever, and will need hope as much as they need defenders, and will do so as long as the grimm roam Remnant. Where that hope comes from will vary by the place, and even by the person, but I think that there will come a time in Mistral when the sight of your circlet gleaming bright upon your brow is worth a hundred men on the battlefield."

"I hope not," Pyrrha murmured. "In any case, Professor Ozpin and my mother both did a great deal to set my mind at ease."

"Proof that speaking to her is a good idea, although I wouldn't necessarily say the same about Professor Ozpin" Sunset said, getting back to the point at hand. "But seriously," she said, "what I was going to say was that…" She licked her lips. "If things had gone a little differently, if you and Jaune hadn't been late… it could have been you in the hospital hovering between life and death." She hesitated. "You are our champion as much as you are Mistral's, but as your mother told me in Mistral, the mightiest warrior may be felled by a single arrow. Do you... at the risk of sounding manipulative, do you really want to die with bitterness and angry words between you? Do you really want to die without having made your peace with your mother?"

Pyrrha was silent for a moment. "You do sound manipulative," she declared reproachfully. "But you also make a great deal of sense," she conceded. "Between our battle on the train, the incident in the forest, and now this bomb… I can't believe that these four years at Beacon will be free from danger, nor blithely assume that I will live to see my graduation."

"Don't get fatalistic on me, for goodness' sake!" Sunset said sharply. "I'll fight like hell to keep you alive, but-"

"I understand your meaning, perfectly," Pyrrha murmured. "I… I will consider it, more earnestly than I have in the past, I must admit. You speak wisely and reproach me well."

"I'm glad to hear it," Sunset said. "Delighted, in fact. May I tell your mother that you are considering it when I speak to her?"

Pyrrha hesitated for a moment. "Yes," she agreed. "Actually, no, I'd rather you didn't. I don't want her to think that… I would like to be able to act at my own pace, without feeling like I must justify the hopes that you have nurtured in her."

Sunset nodded. That was fair enough. "Very well," she said. She paused, wondering if this was the next step she really wanted to take.

It would have been a risk with some people, but this was Pyrrha, the most upright and honourable student at Beacon; she would not take the leeway that Sunset offered her and abuse it.

"While we are on the uncomfortable subject of our possible demises," Sunset began, choosing her words with some care.

"Must we talk about this, Sunset?" Pyrrha asked. "Isn't it enough that you've made a full recovery?"

"Didn't we just accept that this won't be the last time we face death?" Sunset replied. "I'm not going to ask you for very much."

"Not much more than you did in your letter, you mean?" Pyrrha replied.

"I thought we weren't going to talk about that," Sunset said, through slightly gritted teeth. She paused. "Did you… tell anyone else about that?"

Pyrrha hesitated. "Rainbow Dash… and Blake."

"Oh, no," Sunset groaned, putting her head in her hands. "How did she take it?"

"She was amused," Pyrrha explained. "When she thought you might die."

Sunset groaned again. "I was planning on being safely dead by the time she found out about that," she pointed out.

"Thank you for leaving me the responsibility," Pyrrha muttered dryly.

Sunset ran the fingers of both hands through her hair. "Hopefully, she isn't too upset by it. Anyway, the point is…" She held out one hand, the green glow of magic engulfing it as she levitated the magical journal out from under the bed and into her grasp. "Do you remember this?"

Pyrrha nodded. "You've shown it to me before. It's your magic book, isn't it?"

"Exactly," Sunset agreed. "Every word that gets written here also appears in another book in my home." She paused. "And that's why… if I die, I'd like you to write in this book to Princess Celestia and tell her that… that I have fallen." She had put the princess through enough during her first four years in Remnant, never writing, not saying a single word, leaving Celestia no idea whether she was alive or dead. She would not do that again. She would have Princess Celestia learn the truth as soon as possible, so that she might… so that she might move forward as soon as possible.

"Princess Celestia?" Pyrrha repeated. "Is that… you've only called her your teacher before."

"I can hardly ask you to write to 'Sunset's teacher' can I?" Sunset replied.

"I suppose not," Pyrrha said, a slight trace of amusement entering her voice. "But a princess? I suppose that explains a great deal." She fell silent for a few moments before she said, "I will do it, of course, but… merely to write hardly seems reciprocal when I have charged you to bear my arms and circlet home to the crypt of my ancestors. Are you sure you wouldn't like me to go in person, to tell your story to the princess face to face?"

"No," Sunset said quickly. "I wouldn't want to put you out like that."

"It is no trouble to bring word of a comrade's death to their home," Pyrrha said. "It is the most sacred and solemn errand a friend may perform."

"Nevertheless, my home is unusually remote," Sunset insisted. "Merely to write to the princess will… satisfy me, if that makes any sense."

Pyrrha nodded. "Very well. I will do as you ask, and content myself to say that I am honoured by your trust. In this and in those things that you would rather we did not speak of."

"There is no one I trust more," Sunset whispered. She clapped her hands together. "But now, we can put aside these grave matters and concentrate on making sure that nobody dies and I don't have to carry your possessions home and you don't have to write to my princess."

"Indeed," Pyrrha agreed. Her brow furrowed somewhat. "Sunset, may I ask you something else? If Celestia is your princess, and your teacher, why do you swear by her?"

Sunset's mouth opened for some little time before any words emerged. "That… yeah, that… that is something that she doesn't know about. Everyone does it, just not where she can hear us. It's a sign of the reverence in which we hold her."

"Like unto a god?" Pyrrha asked.

"I suppose you could say that," Sunset acknowledged. "Skilled in magic as she is, she is the closest thing to a god that we have ever seen."

"And yet she would not wish you to see her so?" Pyrrha said. "Given that you do not refer to her thus in her presence."

"I… I don't know whether she would like it or no, but I suspect not," Sunset murmured. "She… Princess Celestia is a lot like you in some respects, she dislikes to be put upon a pedestal."

"And yet you dislike me for the same," Pyrrha murmured.

Sunset winced. "I… could observe my princess's attitudes, but not understand them."

"I see," Pyrrha said. "In any event, it doesn't really matter now. I'm sorry if you thought that I was… I shouldn't have brought it up. Were you going somewhere?"

"Hmm?"

"You came in and picked up your jacket," Pyrrha reminded her.

"Oh, I was just about to make a quick run to Benni Havens'; do you want anything?"

"I might come with you, if that's alright," Pyrrha suggested.

"Fine by me; I'll be glad of the company," Sunset said. "So, what's up?"

Pyrrha got to her feet. "What makes you think that anything is up?"

"The fact that you were staring at your scroll so intently when I came in," Sunset explained. "I mean, if it's private, just say so, but-"

"No, it's fine." Pyrrha hesitated for a moment. "It's a request for a comment from a Mistral newspaper. They don't normally approach me directly; my mother handles all of my… well, she's my agent so… I suppose that it's sufficiently well known that she and I are… that they thought they could take a chance on contacting me directly."

"I see," Sunset said. "What do they want you to comment on?"

Pyrrha frowned. "Apparently… there are some in Mistral who are beginning to argue that Haven should pull out of this year's Vytal Festival."

"'Pull out'?" Sunset repeated. "Is that… is that even possible? Could they do that?"

"I wouldn't know," Pyrrha replied. "I haven't studied the tournament by-laws, but I should think that if every Haven student went home – if Professor Lionheart or the Council were to order them to return – there wouldn't be anything that anyone could do to stop them. Nobody can be forced to compete, after all."

"Yes, of course not, you couldn't threaten them into the arena, but still," Sunset said, "who's saying that and why?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Pyrrha asked. "They say it's not safe here in Vale, for the students or for the visitors from Mistral who will come to Vale to watch the tournament."

"Because of the White Fang," Sunset murmured.

"Indeed," Pyrrha responded.

Sunset winced. "I know it worried your mother a little; she confessed as much when we visited over the break."

"And it's gotten worse since then," Pyrrha added.

"No, it hasn't!" Sunset cried. "We caught Torchwick-"

"Which hasn't stopped the White Fang themselves," Pyrrha pointed out. "We caught Torchwick, and then you almost died from a bomb that was set off in the middle of Vale; anyone without aura would have been killed instantly."

"The bomb maker is dead, and all his associates are in police custody," Sunset pointed out.

"But the White Fang is still at large with more than enough dust to make many more bombs if they so choose," Pyrrha said.

Sunset clenched her jaw. "So… you agree then? You think that Haven ought to pull out of the tournament, that the Mistralians ought to stay at home? You think it's not safe here?"

Pyrrha was silent for a few moments. "I… I do not want to say so," she admitted. "I don't want to go on record as saying that Vale is too dangerous, that Haven should turn its back upon a celebration of unity and peace, but… but you nearly died, Sunset. Not in battle, not against grimm, not even facing the White Fang; you were blown up, you and Ruby both, in Vale. In Vale! How can I say that Vale is safe and there is nothing to worry about when such things are happening?"

"It only happened once," Sunset muttered.

"If you had died, do you think it would have been any consolation to any of us that this had only happened once?" Pyrrha demanded.

Sunset looked away. "Well… fair point," she conceded. "You don't have to say anything."

"That's rather cowardly, don't you think?" Pyrrha asked. "If I don't have the courage to speak the truth as I see it, then how am I supposed to call myself a huntress?"

"Silence isn't a lie."

"Perhaps not, but it is not the truth either," Pyrrha insisted.

"And the truth is that you don't think Vale is safe?" Sunset asked. "If you think that, then… then why are you still here?"

"I'm not afraid for myself," Pyrrha insisted. "But for the people who come for the festival in normal years… the Atlesians came to protect Vale, but they haven't stopped the White Fang; at best, they've driven them underground. The Purifier may be dead, but… who knows what else they're planning with all of that stolen dust, and nobody seems to have a clue where they are. In the circumstances, would you really advise people to come?"

I don't have anyone whom I could advise to come or not, was the glib response that came to Sunset's mind immediately, but which died upon the tip of her tongue as she realised that it was not entirely true. Yes, Princess Celestia wasn't going to pop over from the other side of the mirror to watch Team SAPR win great glory in the tournament, but there was Lady Nikos. She, certainly, would wish to come to Vale, to taste the fruits of her success, to be present as her only daughter and her pride triumphed over all others in the greatest stage in Remnant. Did Sunset want her there? Yes, to see their glory, but would she want her there at the risk of her own life? "No," she confessed. "No, I would bid your mother remain safe in Mistral and content herself with watching the live coverage." She paused. "You have a television at home, right? I don't think I actually saw one in your house."

"Well, we never use it to entertain guests," Pyrrha replied. "But, yes, there is one." She paused. "You agree, then? It isn't safe?"

"Saying it isn't safe makes it sound like a warzone out there," Sunset muttered. "But… I agree. It is… I don't think anyone can guarantee the safety of Vale or the people in it right now." She folded her arms. "Of course, if you really think that Vale is too dangerous, then surely the thing to do is to cancel the tournament?"

"You can't want that," Pyrrha said in disbelief.

"Of course I don't want that!" Sunset squawked. "I'm just saying that it's the sensible thing to do in a crisis."

"It would be an admission that there really is a crisis," Pyrrha observed. "That being the case, I can see why Professor Ozpin and the Valish Council want to hold off on taking such a step for as long as they can."

Professor Ozpin would be happy to see us all dead, and the Valish Council too, Sunset thought. After all, they've already left us to die once. She didn't say it, though; this wasn't the right time, and it would just turn the whole discussion at a right angle until they lost the thread. And the thread was grim enough already. "I suppose."

Pyrrha looked out of the window. "I wish…" she began, but then trailed off.

"You wish there was more that we could do?" Sunset guessed.

"I wish that we had the skills to do something," Pyrrha explained. "Team Wisteria seem to have done well working with the police… somehow, I doubt we'd have fared so well in their place."

Sunset snorted. "Maybe not."

Pyrrha did not smile, although she did stand up. "Sunset, will you excuse me for a moment? There's someone I need to talk to."

"Be my guest," Sunset replied. "I need to call your mother anyway."

"Yes, of course," Pyrrha said. "Well then, I'll meet you out in the courtyard?"

"Sure."

"Good," Pyrrha answered. "I shall see you soon then, Sunset." Moving quickly, and with purpose in her stride, she took her leave of Sunset and the dorm room.

Sunset waited until the door closed behind her before she called Lady Nikos.

It took very little time for Lady Nikos to answer, her face appearing in the screen of the device. "Miss Shimmer," she said, in a voice that verged upon tenderness. "Either I am succumbing to hallucinations, or you are out of danger."

"I am glad to say that it is the latter, my lady."

"And I am delighted to hear it," Lady Nikos replied. "I must confess that when Pyrrha told me the news, I was… concerned."

"My lady, I do not know if I should apologise for making you concerned or take credit that I brought you and Pyrrha together, if only for a brief moment."

Lady Nikos' expression hardened. "I understand the purpose of the jest, Miss Shimmer, but I find it in somewhat poor taste."

Sunset swallowed. "I apologise, my lady; it was not my intent to give offence."

"I should hope not," Lady Nikos said. "You will understand that I wish that Pyrrha had chosen to speak to me under happier circumstances."

"I wish that too, my lady," Sunset replied. Just as I wish she'd let me tell you that she is better disposed to the idea of making amends now than she had been. "Upon the subject of Jaune's ancestry-"

"Since I can only imagine you are but recently discharged from care, Miss Shimmer, I will forgive some lack of progress on the front," Lady Nikos said.

"Thank you, my lady; I was about to say that it may have to wait until the summer break, before…" Sunset paused, her and Pyrrha's earlier discussion coming to mind. Who was to say that the Vytal Festival would, in fact, go ahead? It might come to the end of the semester and someone would decide to put the breaks on it due to the ongoing White Fang threat. Still, there was no evidence of that happening yet, and there was no need to clog up the discussion with hypotheticals. "Before the Vytal Festival begins. Jaune knows very little about his lineage, but when school breaks up, I may be able to go to his home and see if something can be turned up."

Lady Nikos was silent for a moment. "You are an intelligent young woman, Miss Shimmer, so I trust you understand what is required of you in this business?"

"I understand that my lady does not require proof so positive as will convince a court of law," Sunset replied. "But my lady must have something beyond mine or Jaune's assertions, no?"

"That would be for the best, Miss Shimmer, yes."

"Then I have no choice but to venture out and search for it, my lady. You must give me time."

"Indeed," Lady Nikos murmured. "I would not ask you to disrupt your studies on account of my errand, even if the school would allow it. Very well. I have wasted enough time in stubbornness; I suppose I can afford to be patient with you. In the meantime… how do you feel? After your… unpleasant experience?"

"I think that Pyrrha was more shaken by it than I was," Sunset said. I had the luxury of being unconscious.

"She has spoken to you about her concerns?"

"I have done my best to put them at ease, my lady," Sunset said. "The world, and those who dwell in it, will always need those who can inspire them the way that Pyrrha inspires us."

"Thank you, Miss Shimmer," Lady Nikos said, inclining her head forwards a little. "I see from the news that he who orchestrated the attack on you is dead."

"Yes, my lady," Sunset agreed. "Perhaps his associates were afraid he would talk."

"When one chooses to keep company with terrorists and criminals, I suppose one must be prepared to accept such things," Lady Nikos declared. "I, for one, am glad that he cannot menace you or Pyrrha any longer."

"Indeed, my lady, I do not find his death troubling," Sunset agreed. "Although I am a little concerned that we are so well known among the White Fang that they should seek to target us."

"To be renowned amongst one's enemies is to be accounted fearsome," Lady Nikos pointed out.

"Amongst honourable adversaries, that is true, and I would accept it gladly," Sunset said. "But to be known by brigands and killers who strike from the darkness without warning… it is not so comfortable."

"And what will you do about it, Miss Shimmer?"

"I… am not certain, my lady, save that I will not live in fear."

"If you did, Miss Shimmer, you would not be who I thought you were."

"I am glad to live up to my lady's expectations," Sunset replied. She hesitated. "My lady, may I broach another matter with you? Pyrrha and I have discussed it, and I think she must be as concerned as I am."

"It must be concerning indeed, to concern you both," Lady Nikos murmured.

"My lady," Sunset began. "Do you intend to travel to Vale for the Vytal Festival?"

"Indeed I do," Lady Nikos replied at once. "I have some hope – albeit a somewhat fading hope – that Pyrrha and I will have reconciled by that time, but even if not, she will still be my daughter and still competing in the Vytal Festival. I cannot think of anywhere that I would wish to be instead of watching Pyrrha's victories live." Her green eyes narrowed. "Why? Do you wish me to stay away?"

"I… we fear the danger, my lady," Sunset murmured.

"I thought you would not live in fear, Miss Shimmer?"

"I will not, my lady, but I am content to ask you to do so," Sunset replied. "When the White Fang may strike in the heart of Vale-"

"Not with impunity, it seems," Lady Nikos countered. "The miscreants were arrested that very day, no?"

"True, my lady, but the organisation remains, for the most part, well-concealed in spite of all efforts by ourselves and others," Sunset explained. "Surely you must understand our concerns. You shared them yourself, once upon a time."

"I did, until you persuaded me that my concerns were groundless, once upon a time," Lady Nikos reminded her.

"I did not expect… this," Sunset admitted. "And in any case, for all the danger… my lady, I mean it as no insult to say that you are no longer in the prime of your strength-"

"You may call me weak and frail, Miss Shimmer; I will not be offended."

"My tongue would be offended to be put to such crass purposes, my lady," Sunset declared. "I merely mean that it is a different thing for you to hazard your life than it is for Pyrrha or myself."

Lady Nikos said, "You are not alone in this sentiment, Miss Shimmer; there are those in Mistral who decry the peril that is to be found in Vale."

"I know, my lady," Sunset said. "It was Pyrrha mentioning it that brought this on."

"So far, Professor Lionheart has set his face against the clamour," Lady Nikos said. "It is strange; I did not expect him to possess such backbone. He says that it would shame Haven Academy and Mistral to shrink before the threat of the White Fang. I am inclined to agree."

"That is a fine sentiment for a headmaster, my lady, and applicable to the students, but I think it is not for the common tourists to uphold the honour of Mistral by hazarding their lives."

"I am no common tourist, Miss Shimmer," Lady Nikos remarked pointedly.

"Indeed, my lady; I did not… forgive me," Sunset murmured. "You are determined beyond persuasion, then?"

"To train Pyrrha for this moment has been the work of many years, Miss Shimmer," Lady Nikos said. "The culmination of everything that I have worked for. If I must put my life at risk to witness the flowering of my ambitions, then I shall do so, and gladly."

Sunset smiled slightly. "Then I must make sure Vale is safe for your arrival, my lady, for I would not have the realising of your dreams disturbed."

"That would be very kind of you, Miss Shimmer," Lady Nikos replied, amusement in her voice. "The more promptly the better."

Sunset chuckled. "Do you think the arguments to stay away will gain much ground, my lady?"

"I cannot say," Lady Nikos admitted. "There is so much wild talk about these days, I scarcely know what to believe. But I think that, while the tournament goes ahead and Mistralian students participate, there will still be those drawn to the allure of the arena. But that is no more than a surmise."

"It is more than I could have said, my lady, thank you," Sunset said. "I will not keep you further. Good day, my lady."

"Good day, Miss Shimmer."

XxXxX​

Pyrrha walked down the corridor of the dormitories currently being used by the Atlesian students, and stopped outside of Team RSPT's room.

She waited just a second, gathering her thoughts and fussing with her sash just a little, and then knocked upon the door.

Twilight opened the door a moment later. "Oh, hey Pyrrha, what's up? Is something wrong?"

"No," Pyrrha said quickly. "Well, not specifically, at least."

"That doesn't sound good," Twilight pointed out.

"No, I don't suppose it does," Pyrrha admitted. "I'm glad you're here. Is Rainbow Dash there, too?"

"Hi, Pyrrha!" Rainbow called from inside the room.

"Hello again, Rainbow Dash," Pyrrha replied, craning over Twilight a little to see inside the room; she still couldn't actually catch sight of Rainbow Dash. "May I come in?"

"Oh, of course," Twilight said, backing away instantly to admit Pyrrha into the dorm room. Rainbow was lying on her back upon her bed at the far end of the room, reading a book with a very lively-looking cover, as best as Pyrrha could tell at this distance.

Penny and Ciel were sat at the desk, both reading from the same book.

"Pyrrha!" Penny cried excitedly as Pyrrha entered, her body twisting around and her eyes lighting up.

Pyrrha smiled. "Hello, Penny." She closed the door behind her.

"It's good to see you again!" Penny declared cheerfully. "Especially now!"

Pyrrha blinked. "'Especially now'?"

Ciel sighed. "Penny is hoping for a distraction from her homework, aren't you, Penny?"

Penny pouted. "I don't see why I can't just have all of this information downloaded into my brain."

"Because your processing matrix is modelled after a human brain, with the intention that knowledge should be absorbed in the same way," Twilight explained. "There's a danger the direct application of too much data could trigger a memory overload, and even if it didn't, you'd still be left with an enormous quantity of facts in your data banks without actually understanding them or the connections between them."

"Learning is more than just knowledge," Ciel added. "Learning is comprehension as well."

"But it's incomprehensible!" Penny complained.

"What is it that you're studying?" Pyrrha asked, taking a step closer to where Penny sat.

"History," Penny groaned.

"Really?" Pyrrha asked, a little surprised despite herself. She'd always found history very easy to grasp, although perhaps that was because it was one of her favourite subjects. "What seems to be the trouble?"

"The only problem is that someone is unwilling to apply herself," Ciel declared.

"Why?" Penny demanded. "What does any of this matter?"

"Because our ancestors made a great many mistakes, and achieved some signal triumphs nonetheless," Pyrrha said softly. "And we must learn which were the first and which the second so that we may enhance the triumphs and avoid the mistakes."

Penny looked up at her. "Like what?"

"Well… such as…" Pyrrha thought for a moment. "Such as the Great War, I suppose; only by learning of the costs and horrors or the war can we understand why it is so vital to preserve peace between our kingdoms and maintain unity against the true threat from the grimm."

"And the White Fang," Penny suggested.

"No, the White Fang… the White Fang exist because we failed to learn from history, I fear," Pyrrha replied. "After the Revolution, we should have learned the folly of racism, the costs of division, of driving one race to feel they had no choice but to take up arms. But the lesson was not learned, and so here we are, doomed to conflict with those who ought be our friends."

Rainbow looked a little uncomfortable at that; she sat up and said, "I'm sure you didn't come down here, Pyrrha, to help Penny with her homework."

"Although I hope you did," Penny added.

Pyrrha chuckled. "I'm afraid not," she confessed. "I came here because I wanted to talk to you about something. Particularly Rainbow and Twilight."

Ciel started to get up. "Do you require privacy?"

"No, no," Pyrrha replied. "And I won't disturb you long, I promise. But may I sit down?"

"Sure thing," Rainbow said, gesturing to one of the empty beds.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Twilight asked.

"No, thank you; I'm going to Benni Havens' with Sunset afterwards," Pyrrha said.

"Fair enough," Twilight said, as she sat down on Rainbow's bed beside her team leader. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

Pyrrha hesitated for a moment, considering where she ought to begin. "I… I suppose I want to ask you about your friends, the ones who came to visit you just before the start of the semester with their sisters."

"What about them?" Rainbow asked.

"At the time, I think they said something about coming to Vale again, for the Vytal Festival," Pyrrha said. "I was wondering… I suppose I was wondering if that was still their plan, or if they, or if you, had changed your mind on account of the danger."

Silence descended in the dorm room. None of the members of Team RSPT spoke for a little while, as an uncomfortable look passed between Rainbow and Twilight.

"Why do you ask, Pyrrha?" inquired Penny.

Pyrrha glanced at her. "Because there are people in Mistral who think that Vale has become too dangerous to host the Vytal Festival-"

"Can they change the venue now?" came the next question from Penny.

"No," Pyrrha said. "But Haven could withdraw from this year's tournament."

Penny gasped. "Haven is going to pull out?"

"Not necessarily, but some people in my home country would like it too," Pyrrha explained. She glanced away from Penny. "To be frank, I'm not sure that I would like my mother to come here under these circumstances, and not because she and I have fallen out, either," she added quickly, lest anyone get the wrong idea. "But because I'm not sure that it will be safe for them."

Once more, a silence fell, and once more that silence was broken by Penny, "Does that mean we failed?"

"No, Penny," Pyrrha said. "Why would you say that?"

"I thought that General Ironwood brought his forces here so that people would feel safe," Penny said. "But it seems like that hasn't happened, has it? People are even more scared than before."

"Penny," Ciel said gently. She paused upon the name, searching for the words or at least that was how Pyrrha interpreted it. "Failure," she went on, "is a harsh word, and yet, without meaning to traduce the General, I must confess that the deployment of our squadrons has been of little use in curbing the activity of the White Fang."

"The robberies have trailed off since we nailed Torchwick," Rainbow pointed out defensively.

"And yet we are no closer to recovering the stolen dust or from finding out the whereabouts of the White Fang base," Ciel pointed out.

"I must say, I didn't expect to hear such sentiments from you," Pyrrha murmured.

"I am a patriot; I am not blind," Ciel said. "The very continued presence of our fleet confirms that we have not yet completed our mission. If Vale were not still under threat, our forces would have no reason to stay."

"Yeah, but be fair, the General didn't bring the fleet to find any hidden White Fang base," Rainbow said. "He brought the fleet so that when the other shoe dropped, we'd have the firepower to be ready for it. I don't know for sure what the White Fang is doing with all that dust, but I've got a pretty good guess as to what it is."

"Go on," Ciel said, in a neutral tone.

"They're raising an army," Rainbow replied, as though the answer was obvious. "Blake explained that they didn't use to field a lot of men like they did at the docks; they just used a small group of elites. That's changed now; they've got a lot of guys, and they've stolen some of our prototype Paladins too, and other military gear before we stopped them from hitting our trains. They need the dust for fuel and ammo because they've got a lot more men and a lot more firepower than they used to have. That's why the General brought the fleet, so that however much extra firepower they have won't help them when they make their play because we'll still have more guns and more bombs than they do, and we'll rule the skies. Don't call us failures when we haven't been tested yet."

"A fair point," Ciel conceded. "The bulk of our forces have yet to be engaged, and yet, Penny also speaks true, I think. Did we not also come in the hope that morale would be improved by the sight of our ships overhead? It appears that it has not been so. And, more to Pyrrha's point, I am not sure that I would want my parents or my brothers to come to Vale under these present circumstances. I have no doubt that we would hold the city against external assault, but the White Fang could do great harm that would not be so easily prevented."

"That was my thought," Pyrrha murmured. "I am… a little sad that you agree with me."

"We haven't spoken to Rarity, Pinkie, or Fluttershy about changing their plans," Twilight said.

"And we're not going to," Rainbow declared. "If they decide it's not safe for them or their sisters, then that's fine, but we're not going to tell them that they shouldn't come."

"No?" Pyrrha asked, a little surprised.

"No," Rainbow confirmed. "After we got done beating the White Fang at Canterlot, Cadance and Shining Armor got married that same evening, as soon as everything was cleaned up and they could hold the ceremony. They didn't put it off and send everyone home because of the attack. They got married fast as they could because you can't let these jackasses terrify you out of living your life. If you do that, then they've half-won."

"But that was after you'd already beaten the attack," Pyrrha pointed out. "It's one thing to celebrate a victory but another to revel in the shadow of attack, don't you think?"

"Isn't that what we do all the time?" Rainbow asked. "Sure, maybe things are a little more dangerous with the White Fang in Vale right now, but it's not like the world is ever not dangerous. The grimm are always out there, and some places are safer than others, but those other places… really aren't safe. But we still go to parties and have picnics and hang out with our friends and do all kinds of fun, ordinary stuff, right? There's a whole bunch of grimm in the forest just past the cliffs, but we're still having a dance up here at the school."

Pyrrha frowned. "Then… are you really not worried? Or rather, would you really not be worried about them, if they came here?"

"I'm always worried about them," Rainbow admitted. "All the time. Whether they were here or in Atlas, nothing would change."

"Hmm," Pyrrha murmured. That was not a position she had considered before, but now that she did consider it… it made a certain degree of sense. Not everyone would agree, of course, and that was their perfect right, but nevertheless, it was not nonsense.

It might even be something she could say to the newspaper.

XxXxX​

Sunset's foot tapped against the wall as she waited for Pyrrha. She folded her arms, glancing back and forth, and it was while she was glancing that she caught sight of Cinder sauntering her way.

"Is something wrong?" she asked. "Or should I ask: is something else wrong?"

Sunset shook her head. "No," she replied. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just waiting for Pyrrha, we're going to go for coffee."

"Ah," Cinder replied.

Sunset hesitated. "Would you like to come with us?"

Cinder smiled. "Very kind of you to offer, but I won't impose my company on Pyrrha. No, I just wanted to see how you were doing, after your… experience."

Sunset shrugged. "I'm feeling much better now," she said.

"You're taking this very much in stride," Cinder said. "Almost dying, by a bomb of all things."

Sunset grinned. "A lot of people would find it odd that you say that like dying by bomb is worse than other forms of death."

"Some, perhaps," Cinder allowed. "But not you. You know exactly what I mean."

Sunset nodded. "I hope for something a little more… glorious."

"Precisely," Cinder agreed. "I'm… sorry that that had to happen to you."

"It wasn't your fault."

"Nevertheless," Cinder murmured. "What was it like?"

"What?"

"Hovering," Cinder said, "between life and death?"

Sunset was silent for a moment. "I… I don't remember," she said. "It was all… if there's anything there I've forgotten it."

"I see," Cinder murmured. "That's… rather disquietening."

"Were you hoping for a life after death?" Sunset asked.

Now it was Cinder's turn to pause for a moment. "In Mistral, it was once commonly believed that the souls of the dead descended deep beneath the mountain, to wait to be born anew beside the banks of the Asheroth."

"It may yet be so," Sunset ventured. "Remember, I didn't actually die."

Cinder chuckled. "No," she agreed. "No, you did not, thank goodness. But the person who sought your death did die, proving that there is still a little justice in the world, don't you think."

"It saves me the trouble of hunting him down, for sure," Sunset muttered.

Cinder cocked her head to one side. "Would you?" she asked. "Would you have hunted him down?"

"I wouldn't have devoted my every waking moment to it, but…" Sunset paused. Surely if she could say it in front of anyone she could say it in front of Cinder. "It wasn't just me he caught in the blast, remember?"

Cinder nodded. "Ruby."

"Let's just say he'd be on my list right next to Adam Taurus," Sunset declared.

Cinder smiled. "But someone saved you the bother."

"Right," Sunset agreed. "Whoever they are, I'd like to shake their hand for that."

Cinder's smile widened. "Really? Well, I'm glad to see that you are still yourself. There are so many horror stories about people's personalities changing after they get hit on the head. As I say: I'm glad that you're still you." She patted Sunset on the shoulder, before she added. "And now I'd best be on my way; I'm sure that Pyrrha will be here soon." She turned her back on Sunset and walked away, but with a spring in her step that had definitely not been there before.

XxXxX​

Lieutenant Martinez was waiting for them as the elevator door slid upwards. "Thanks for coming, kids," she said.

"How could we not come back, Lieutenant?" Weiss asked lightly as she stepped out of the elevator. "Russel spends more time here than he does at Beacon." Indeed, while Flash and Cardin followed her out of the lift, Russel was already down in the Basement, working on the computer.

Lieutenant Martinez held up her hands. "Guilty," she admitted. "In my defence, our tech guy is still off sick, and Russel here is turning out to be quite the little genius, ain't you, Russel?"

"I'm trying my best, Lieutenant," Russel said.

"You're best is plenty good," Lieutenant Martinez told him. "And don't let anybody tell you that it's not. I tell my boys, I say if you want to be something in today's world, you learn how to use a computer; that's where the future is. Knuckledraggers like me are a dying breed."

"I hope not," Cardin muttered.

Lieutenant Martinez smirked. "Well," she said as she grabbed a cup of coffee off the nearest desk, in a mug with 'Remnant's Greatest Mom' painted on it in yellow, "that's what they tell me whenever I have to venture up to Westmorland Yard."

"You can find out a lot of stuff from a computer," Russel said. "But you still need someone to go in and put the cuffs on somebody. Or kill the monster," he added, glancing towards his teammates.

"You can do both," Flash pointed out. "I guess that puts you a cut above the rest of us."

Russel glanced away and didn't reply.

"So, is there another case?" Cardin asked. "Is there more White Fang trouble?"

"I hope not; we only just put out the last fire," Flash replied.

Lieutenant Martinez put down the coffee. "Fortunately, no, there isn't a new case. At least not one involving the White Fang. I asked you to come down here on a Saturday because I thought you might like to know how the old case turned out. Russel, show them what you've got."

"Okay," Russel said. "So, you know when we were looking at the safehouses used by The Purifier, both of those properties were owned by the same corporation?"

"The Eastern Promise Holding Company," Weiss murmured. "That was the name, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Russel agreed. "I didn't know what that was, but the lieutenant has had me digging through the records to try and find out who's behind the name."

"With Krasny Krot dead, the man behind that company might be our best lead into the wider White Fang," Lieutenant Martinez explained. "He owned two properties where members of the White Fang holed up; he had to know what they were being used for."

"Did you check out his other properties?" Cardin asked.

"All of them, and all of them empty," Lieutenant Martinez said. "If any of them were being used, they were cleared out quickly. But the good news is that Russel was able to follow the trail to put a name to the Eastern Promise Holding Company."

"So that's what you've been doing down here," Weiss murmured.

Russel chuckled. "It's something that I can do, you know? Something that I… I did some digging around, and I got lucky."

"No such thing as luck; you did good," Lieutenant Martinez insisted. "Tell them who it is."

"Okay," Russel said. "The owner of the Eastern Promise Holding Company and backer of the White Fang is..." He tapped on his keyboard, and upon the big screen at the back of the room appeared the image of a man, a dog faunus with floppy Labrador ears descending on either side of his head. That was the only really distinguishing feature of an ordinary looking man: average height, a little portly but not too much so, with a round, somewhat pudgy face, dark hair, no real distinguishing features other than his faunus trait. "Aurelius Vibius, the commercial attache at the Mistralian embassy."

"A diplomat?" Flash said. "Why would a diplomat want to work with the White Fang?"

"We don't know yet," Lieutenant Martinez admitted. "What we do know is that he has accounts with three different banks here in Vale, all under false identities, who receive money from an account in Mistral, most of that money goes into-"

"The Eastern Promise Holding Company," Flash said.

"Correct," Lieutenant Martinez replied. "We figure the rest goes into petty cash for the White Fang."

"And what does this scumbag have to say for himself?" Cardin said. "Have you brought him in yet? Can we help with that?"

"No, and unfortunately no," Lieutenant Martinez said. "He's a diplomat, so-"

"Diplomatic immunity," Flash groaned.

"But he's a terrorist!" Cardin cried. "Surely the Mistralians-"

"The Mistralians have decided that this is their problem, and they want to handle this in-house," Lieutenant Martinez explained. "The word we got from their embassy is that Vibius will be shipped home to be interrogated by their authorities."

Cardin folded his arms. "So they get all the juicy intel on the White Fang, and we get nothing?"

"They've promised full cooperation," Lieutenant Martinez said. "And to make sure that we get it, Sergeant Yuma is getting a paid vacation, isn't that right, Yuma?"

Sergeant Yuma looked up from his desk. "It's not a vacation, El-Tee," he said wearily. "I'm the official liaison-"

"Liaison between the VPD and the Imperial Constabulary, yeah, I know," Lieutenant Martinez said. "But you're still going to have some fun, right?"

Yuma grinned. "Oh, you betcha, El-Tee."

Lieutenant Martinez smirked. "His new partner is probably going to turn out to be some martial arts freak; he'll never want to come home."

"What about the girl, Krot's apprentice?" Flash asked. "What's she saying?"

"Stuff about how the White Fang works in Mistral and Menagerie, not so much about Vale; it seems she'd just got off the boat when we picked her up," Lieutenant Martinez replied.

Flash sighed. "So… we've got nothing that will help unravel the whole organisation?"

"Is that what you were hoping for?" Lieutenant Martinez asked. "That ain't how this works, Flash. The kind of cases where you get the one guy who knows everything about the criminal empire and will sing like a canary about it, the cases where you get the one ledger that has all the evidence you need to arrest the boss and his whole inner circle, in my whole career I've worked one case where we had that kind of luck, and this ain't it. Most cases, when you're dealing with an organisation like the White Fang, you do some damage, you pick up a few people, if you're lucky, you get a key man, but everything is so compartmentalised that the shock doesn't spread very far. Yeah, it's not all that you hoped for, but by most standards? We did good. We stopped a bombing campaign almost before it could start, we snatched up a group of elite operatives, and we identified their money guy here in Vale. I called you three down here to tell you that because that's a win. That is a damn good win, and you ought to be proud of yourselves." She paused, taking in the unconvinced expression on Flash's face. "Let me ask you kids something: when you all become huntsmen, what do you think, it's gonna be easy? Do you think you're gonna just stride out there and save the world?"

"Of course not," Weiss replied. "It will be hard work, and almost always on the defensive."

Lieutenant Martinez nodded. "So why would it be any different here? Flash, Cardin, I told you both that we fight monsters, just like you, only our monsters aren't so easily spotted sometimes. But we fight them, just like you, and just like you, we're on the defensive, and just like you, we put a lot of hard work in, and it isn't always obvious that we made a difference. But we do. Every day, every time we put someone behind bars where they can't hurt anyone else, Vale is a little safer. Vale is a little safer today, and you played your part in that. So cheer up!" She grinned. "I told your headmaster how much of a help you were."

Weiss felt her back straighten. "Thank you, Lieutenant!" Our first mission, and we got a commendation! Team Wisteria might just be on it's way up.

"You don't need to thank me for nothing, certainly not for something you earned," Lieutenant Martinez told her. "I don't know if you'll get the chance to work with me again, but whether you do or not, I'm sure you'll do great up at that fancy school." She paused, and assumed a mock stern manner, "So don't prove me wrong, okay?"

"We have no intention of that, Lieutenant," Weiss promised. "Keep an eye on us, and I promise that you'll see us shine."

 

[ScipioSmith]

Taking Shape​

Yang opened the door before Ruby had managed to knock on it. "Hey, Rubes, come on in."

"How did you know I was here?" Ruby asked from the other side of an armful of fabric bolts as she walked in. "I didn't even get a chance to-"

"I could hear you from the other side of the door," Yang replied, an undercurrent of laughter in her voice. "Need a hand?"

"I need to be able to see over all this," Ruby muttered. "Times like this, I wish I was as tall as Pyrrha."

Yang chuckled. "Well, you're here now, so it's all good."

Ruby walked in and dumped her fabrics on the floor of the YRBN dorm room. "Thanks for letting me use the room. I can't use our dorm room because I don't want Sunset or Pyrrha to see what I'm working on, or Penny either, and-"

"And you're not worried if I find out what you're working on, right?" Yang asked, in a mock stern tone, putting her hands on her hips.

Ruby hesitated. "Well, I-"

"It's fine," Yang assured her. "I don't need a big surprise. And you've gotta work somewhere, right?"

"Right," Ruby agreed. She turned to the other members of Team YRBN, who were all in the room with the two sisters: Blake, sat reading on her bed, Ren sitting rather less comfortably upon his bed, looking like he was meditating or something, and Nora sitting on the floor at the foot of Ren's bed with her headphones on. "Hey, guys."

"HI, RUBY!" Nora screeched, making everyone else in the dorm room flinch at the volume of her voice. She winced as she realised what she'd done, laughing nervously as she took off her headphones. "Sorry about that. Forgot about the headphones. Hi, Ruby." She looked at the fabrics on the floor. "Here to make those dresses, huh?"

"Yeah," Ruby agreed. "Thanks for letting me take up your room."

"It's no problem," Nora said dismissively. "Ren and I are going out into Vale to look at my dress for the dance, aren't we, Ren?"

Ren did not look particularly enthusiastic about the idea as he opened his eyes. "I'm not sure that you need me for that, Nora," he murmured.

"Because if you're not there, how will you know if you like it?" Nora demanded.

Ren looked down at her. "So long as it makes you happy, it will make me happy."

"Aww," Nora cooed, leaning against the bed, with one arm resting upon it. "That is the sweetest thing, Ren. You're still coming with me."

Ren smiled ever so slightly. "In that case, Jaune will be joining us. He asked for my help picking out a suit."

"Am I going to get to see you trying on suits?" Nora asked. "Sign me up!"

Ren's smile remained slight, but got ever so slightly less so.

Blake closed her book, but kept it in her hands as she got up off her bed. "I'll be in the library if anyone needs me. Rainbow asked me to help Penny with some of her homework."

Yang's eyebrows rose. "And you're just going to do it?"

"Rainbow wants me to give Penny a little bit of a faunus perspective on some of the history," Blake explained. "I don't see why not."

"Rainbow Dash does remember that she's a faunus herself, right?" Yang asked rhetorically and with a bit of humor.

"Probably," Blake answered, a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth. "But I get better grades."

"Right," Yang conceded. "Have fun with that then," she added dryly.

To Ruby, Blake said, "Good luck with everything, Ruby."

"Thanks, Blake," Ruby said. "Last chance to say if you want one too?"

"Thank you, but I'm already taken care of," Blake said. "Besides, I wouldn't want to add to your workload."

"If you're sure," Ruby replied. "What are you going to do, Yang?"

"I'm meeting Sunset in the ballroom," Yang informed her. "Since Team Coffee isn't back from their mission yet, Professor Goodwitch asked me and Sunset to plan the dance together." She paused. "Didn't she tell you?"

Ruby shook her head. "This is the first I've heard about it. She asked Sunset?" Yang, sure, Ruby could see that, even if her sister was only a freshman; she was also gregarious and outgoing and knew what made a good party. Sunset… not so much.

"I don't know what Professor Goodwitch was thinking either," Yang admitted. "I just hope Sunset takes this seriously and doesn't try to make me do everything myself."

"It would probably turn out okay if you did," Ruby said loyally.

"Yeah, obviously it would, but that doesn't mean that I want to do it all," Yang replied.

"I'm sure it will be fine," Ruby assured her. "Just because Sunset didn't say anything doesn't mean she won't work hard. She gives everything her best shot."

"Like I said, I hope so," Yang declared. "Anyway, that's where I'll be while I leave you to it." She reached out with one hand and ruffled Ruby's hair. "Best of luck, sis. See you in a while!"

"Good luck," Ruby said to her, as first Yang and then Blake took their leave of the dorm room. As Ren and Nora became the last to leave, Ruby said to them, "Be careful out there, after… you know."

The two of them paused. Ren bowed his head to her. "We will be on our guard, of course."

Ruby studied him for a moment, her sister's taciturn teammate. "But you're always on your guard, right?"

"We could die at the hands of the White Fang in Vale," Ren allowed. "I could die at the hands of the grimm on a mission. I could electrocute myself with a kitchen appliance, or Nora's curling iron could start a fire and burn down the dorm room-"

"I unplug that every night!" Nora insisted.

"We live each day surrounded by death," Ren continued, as though she hadn't spoken. "Why fear one more than the rest?"

Ruby nodded. "Vigilance, but not fear, right?"

"Precisely," Ren agreed. "Anything else, and they have won. And now, we will leave you to your work."

"Later, Ruby!" Nora called. "Have fun!"

"I'll try," Ruby replied, as the door shut behind the two of them. She put her hands on her hips and let out a heavy breath as she looked down at the pile of fabrics, some of which were gently unrolling themselves upon the floor. She did not immediately break out the scissors, needle, and thread, however. The first thing that she did was get out her scroll, prop it up on Yang's desk so that it was standing upright with the screen facing outwards, and call Rainbow's friend Rarity in Atlas.

Rarity took a few seconds to actually pick up, but eventually, she answered, her fair face appearing in the screen, framed by her purple curls. Her deep blue eyes blinked. "Ruby, darling!" she cried. "So good to hear from you again. I take it this is about those designs you sent over for me to look at?"

"Uh-huh," Ruby agreed, sitting down on Yang's bed. "Did you get a chance to take a look at them? Is this a good time?"

"It's the best time, darling; I don't have to work on a Sunday," Rarity informed her. "Although, contrariwise, you might also say that Sunday is when I get all of my best work done."

Ruby glanced at what she could see of the room behind Rarity. "Is that your workshop?"

Rarity's laughter was light and high pitched and just a little embarrassed. "Well, technically, darling, it's the living room, but Coco and I – Coco Pommel, that's my roommate – agreed that we would rather have a space to work than one to entertain." She picked up her scroll and turned in place with it, showing off a room decorated in cool blue colours with accents of purple, indigo, and violet, with mannequins posed here and there looking almost like guests at a party, while sewing machines stood ready and fabrics stood stacked against the walls.

"Nice setup," Ruby said. "Although it seems like a pity you can't have friends over."

"That's the beauty of living in Atlas, darling; you never need to have anyone over because there's always somewhere to go out instead," Rarity replied. "Or we impose on Pinkie Pie, for whom it's no imposition at all." She paused. "Anyway, yes, your designs."

"What did you think?" Ruby asked eagerly.

"I thought it was wonderful work," Rarity said. "You really do have a flair for fashion, Ruby; no offence to your chosen profession, but you're wasted as a huntress."

Ruby chuckled. "I don't think so."

"I know, but I can lament nevertheless," Rarity said airily. "I must say I'm a little surprised that Pyrrha's dress isn't a little more Mistralian in style-"

"I'm sure that Pyrrha must have to wear that style all the time," Ruby explained. "I wanted to give her something a little bit different."

"Well, it certainly is different," Rarity allowed. "And quite lovely besides, it will certainly go with her hair. Yes, quite lovely. I presume the fairytale sensibility of it was intentional?"

Ruby smiled, even as she looked down and away from Rarity. "I guess," she said. "Pyrrha… she and Jaune are pretty much like a fairytale already, so… it seemed to make sense, you know?"

Rarity's smile was warm, and utterly without judgement. "I understand completely, Ruby, and trust me, being able to tailor your designs to your friend's personalities is just one more thing which marks you out as a true talent."

"I don't-"

"Oh, you do," Rarity insisted. "As shown when we move from Pyrrha's dress to Sunset's; I must confess that I don't know either of these two very well – in Pyrrha's case, due to lack of opportunity, and in Sunset's, due to… lack of desire – but the switch from fairytale in Pyrrha's case to something more sensual in Sunset's demonstrates that you know them quite well."

"You think it works, then?" Ruby asked. "I wasn't sure if it would. It felt right, but… are you sure it isn't showing too much leg?"

"For a comfortable, self-confident woman, there is no such thing as too much leg," Rarity declared. She paused. "Allowing for the dress code and the specifics of the situation, obviously," she added. "Obviously, in a dress like this, it would make no sense to describe Sunset as the belle of the ball, but she will turn heads, without a doubt."

Ruby grinned. "Sunset does like being the centre of attention."

Rarity laughed. "That is one thing I remember about her very well," she agreed. "As for Yang's dress, this rich purple is definitely her colour."

"I know she'll like that," Ruby said. "I've seen her wearing stuff like it before. What about Penny's dress?" That was the one that she was most worried about, if only because Penny seemed the most excited of any of her friends to actually receive the dress; she didn't want to let Penny down, having gotten her hopes up so.

Rarity was silent for a moment. She put on a pair of half-moon spectacles and looked at something. She still said nothing as her hand reached towards the screen and then disappeared out of sight; Ruby thought she could hear buttons being pressed.

"Is something wrong?" she asked nervously.

"Wrong? No," Rarity said immediately. "It's just that I have one or two suggestions for Penny's dress; the colour is well-chosen and should bring out her eyes beautifully, but I do have one or two suggestions." She paused. "Did you have any… dubious assistance in this?"

"Um, Ciel wanted to see the design," Ruby admitted. "She gave me… a couple of notes."

"Hmm," Rarity noted, with evident disapproval. "Yes, I thought I could tell where you had made a decision against your better judgement. I've just sent you back a revised design; why don't you tell me whether my notes match your original intention?"

Ruby got off the bed and approached her scroll as it pinged with the notification of a message received. She swiped Rarity's face to take up only half the screen, and with the other, opened up said message, which was from Rarity and contained the revisions she had just mentioned. It did match Ruby's original intent, rolling back the revisions that Ciel had made on Penny's behalf: the hem of the skirt that Ciel had insisted be lowered to calf-length was back up to knee-length again, and the long sleeves that Ciel had added were gone, replaced by short sleeves and gloves halfway to elbow-length that nevertheless left most of Penny's arms bare. "How did you-?"

"I like to think that I can sense an artist's vision," Rarity replied. "And when it's been compromised. I'm not quite sure who Miss Soleil thinks she is, but when it comes to creating beauty, there is nothing more important than integrity."

"Not even pleasing the person the dress is for?"

Rarity sighed. "The chances that the person the dress is for knows what they're talking about are vanishingly rare; trust me, I speak from experience," she added, her voice dropping to become a slight mutter. "They might not realise it while the work is in progress, but if you stick to your vision and shut out the voices of the naysayers, then your creation will convert them with its quality. That's why, in all my work, I always make sure to follow the Rules of Rarity." She paused, and Ruby almost got the sense that she was listening to something, before Rarity got up from where she'd been sitting and retreated to stand in the centre of the room.

"Rarity?" Ruby asked.

Rarity ignored her, or perhaps she didn't hear, because she chose that moment to burst into song.

The Rules of Rarity,

Guarantee quality,

This I can assure,

For each and every dress,

I vow to give finesse,

With ti-ime, love, and couture!​

"Uh, Rarity," Ruby said.

"Hmm?" Rarity stopped. "Oh, I'm sorry darling, did I start singing?"

"Uh… yeah," Ruby admitted.

Rarity laughed nervously. "Yes, uh, that happens from… time to time. My sincerest apologies."

"It's fine," Ruby said, a touch of laughter in her own voice. "Does it really just happen? You just start singing sometimes?"

"Sometimes we do it on purpose," Rarity replied. "Other times, it… well, it just seems to come over one at times. Twilight suggested it might be because the air is thinner at high elevations."

"I… guess?" Ruby murmured. "But you think I should make the dress my way?"

"I don't think you should consider doing anything else," Rarity assured her.

"Okay then," Ruby declared. "I'll do it."

"I'm delighted to hear it," Rarity said. "And for the same reason, I'm not even going to comment upon the design of your own dress."

"You're not?"

"Far be it from me," Rarity said, "to tell a fellow fashionista how to dress."

"I'm not-"

"Oh, but you are, darling," Rarity insisted. "It may not be your dream, but it is in your heart nonetheless."

Ruby couldn't help but smile at that. "Thanks, Rarity," she said. "This has been great."

"Any time at all, darling, any time," Rarity assured. "Within reason, of course."

Ruby nodded. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Ruby," Rarity called, as Ruby ended the call.

Okay. That… that had gone really well. She could do this; she could produce something that all her friends would love.

It felt like the least she could do for them.

And so, fortified by Rarity's praise and her advice, Ruby gathered up her tools and fabrics and set to work.

XxXxX​

"Jaune!" Sun called. "Hey, Jaune, can I talk to you for a second?"

Jaune turned around. He, Ren, and Nora were walking down the path that led across the courtyard to the docking pads to catch a bus into Vale. "You two go on ahead," he told them. "I'll catch up."

"Don't take too long," Nora told him, as she and Ren walked – skipped, in Nora's case – further off down the path.

Jaune, meanwhile, stood still, waiting for Sun who was running to approach him.

"Hey, man," he said. "Sorry to hold you up; I just need some advice."

"What kind of advice?" Jaune asked warily.

"What are you wearing for the dance?" Sun asked.

Jaune blinked in surprise. "I don't know yet," he admitted. "I'm just on my way into Vale to look for something. Why?"

Sun shrugged. "It's just something that I've been wondering about, you know? What I should wear, for Blake, you know. I mean, I was just going to wear this-"

"That?" Jaune repeated as he took in Sun's combat gear, which also doubled as his casual dress. "You were going to go to the dance in that?"

"Wrong answer?" Sun guessed.

Jaune hesitated, because on the one hand… yes, it was the wrong answer, and not just because Sun wasn't wearing a shirt, but also because he wasn't wearing any socks either, and his jeans were torn.

On the other hand, Jaune's jeans weren't brand new or in perfect condition either, and there was a good reason for that, and Jaune wasn't blind to the possibility that there was a good reason for Sun's clothes being the way they were either. Mistral was said to be a hard kingdom for faunus, and although Jaune hadn't seen any evidence of that, he was aware that they hadn't really seen anything hard about Mistral, but that that said more about the aura of privilege that surrounded the Nikos family than it did about the absence of any toil or struggle in Mistral itself.

And Vacuo, from what little Jaune knew of it, was said to be a poor place, and a hard one; not least by people from Vacuo itself.

So instead of simply decrying Sun's taste, Jaune asked, "What made you think that might not be a good idea?"

"What do you think?" Sun demanded. "Blake! The more I think about it… I don't know, it just doesn't seem right to take her to the dance looking like this." He paused. "Look, dude, I know that I look like a mess; you don't have to pretend. And it's fine. I'm from Vacuo; we all look like this because we're too busy surviving to worry about what's in style or whether our clothes look good as new or any stuff like that. But Blake's not from Vacuo; she's a princess from Menagerie, and she hangs out with the Atlesians who definitely care about all that stuff. I… I guess I'm starting to wonder if she deserves better."

"Yes," Jaune said. "She does."

"Well, thanks, man."

"Blake deserves better," Jaune said. "Just like Pyrrha deserves better. They both deserve so much better than… than us. I mean, look at them. They're strong, brave, kind, selfless, beautiful, and we're… we're us."

Sun nodded. "Yeah, I guess we are, aren't we?"

"But someone… someone who can be really stupid, but who occasionaly has flashes of insight once told me that when it comes to love, we don't get what we deserve; we love… who we love. And they love us, or at least I hope that she does. And I think that Blake loves you."

"I hope so too," Sun said quietly. "Even if I'm not sure how."

"Because she does," Jaune said. "I'm starting to think that that's all there is to it. And because that's all there is to it, then… then go to the dance like that, if you want. Blake won't care. So long as it's you, she won't care."

Sun looked unsure. "You think so?"

I hope so, now I've said it. "I know so."

A smile brightened Sun's face. "Well, all right!" he cried, before his blue eyes narrowed. "Wait a second, if you believe that, then why are you going into Vale to get a special outfit?"

"I never said I wasn't a hypocrite."

XxXxX​

"No," Yang said bluntly. "We are not having a string quartet."

Sunset placed her hands, palms down, flat on the tabletop. "Why not?"

Yang stood over her, hands on her hips. "Because it's lame, that's why!"

Sunset scoffed. "First of all, it is not lame, it is the done thing; second of all: springing for a DJ? That is so cliché."

"Some things are clichés for a reason," Yang declared, holding up one finger. "Having a DJ at a party is a cliché because having a DJ is fun! It's cool! And we can get a great deal on it too; look at this flier I found in Vale."

She laid the flier down on the table. Sunset's right hand glowed as she levitated it up into the air and towards her face to read it. Sunset groaned. "Vinyl Scratch."

"You know her?"

Sunset rolled her eyes. "She went to Canterlot."

Yang frowned. "Why does a DJ need to go to combat school?"

"So she can drive from gig to gig through grimm infested territory?" Sunset suggested. "I would have asked her, but she never had her headphones off. Also, I didn't care."

"So she's good, right?"

"It doesn't matter how good she is," Sunset insisted. "She is not suitable for a formal event. And neither is a smoke machine."

"Oh, but ice sculptures, they're just the thing to get this party banging?"

"Will you listen to yourself?" Sunset exclaimed. "This party should not be 'banging'; this is not a 'banging' sort of party, this is-"

"A party," Yang reminded her. "At a school. For kids."

"A gala for representatives of many different kingdoms," Sunset said acerbically, "brought together in a celebration of unity and peace." Sunset picked up Yang's list of hors d'oeuvres off the table in front of her. "And what is this: chicken wings, nachos, pork belly skewers, pigs in blankets? First of all, where are the vegetarian options?"

"The nachos are vegetarian!"

"Second of all," Sunset continued, more asperity bleeding off her voice by the moment, "what kind of hors d'oeuvres are these?"

"I don't even know what that word means," Yang said flatly. "This is party food! What do you think we ought to have?"

"Canapes," Sunset said. "Crudite platters, gougers-"

"Those do not sound good," Yang said.

"They're not supposed to taste good," Sunset replied. "They're meant to look dainty." She huffed. "I don't know why Professor Goodwitch asked you to help me plan this gala." She hadn't been particularly enthused about being given the job herself – she had better things to do, like… almost anything, really – but when the best alternative was Yang, she could see why she, Sunset, had been sought out. Without her, this would all go terribly wrong.

"Oh, really?" Yang demanded, her voice acquiring a slightly dangerous edge. "And why is that?"

"Because you clearly have…" Sunset searched for a slightly less rude way of saying 'plebeian tastes.' She had a lot of trouble finding one. "Because your low tastes, though doubtless appealing to the masses, are quite unsuitable for a highbrow event such as this."

Yang looked as though she didn't know whether to laugh or punch Sunset's face in. Her mouth opened and closed several times. Her eyes flashed red, then back to violet, then red, then violet, then alternating between colours several times. Her hair flared fiery, then died down again just as swiftly. "My 'low tastes'?" she repeated.

Sunset shrugged. "Don't look at me; you're the one who wants a DJ."

"Where the hell do you-?" Yang halted, if only for a moment. "How the hell does a faunus become such a snob?"

"That's racist," Sunset said, a smirk playing across her face as she pointed at Yang.

"No, that's experience."

"What, just because I'm a faunus doesn't mean I can be cultured?" Sunset said. "Why don't you say that where Blake can hear you?"

"Blake didn't just come within a hair of calling me a lowborn oaf," Yang reminded Sunset.

"I have been to more galas," Sunset declared, "than you have had hot dinners."

"Where do you think I live?" Yang demanded. "I have hot dinners every night. I cooked a lot of them myself when I was younger."

"Chicken wings and pork belly skewers, one assumes," Sunset murmured dryly.

Yang rolled her eyes. "You can sneer all you want, but I made sure that Ruby ate well growing up."

Sunset paused for a moment. She tapped her fingers on the tabletop. "I know that your mother died," she said softly, "but… the way you talk – and this isn't the first time you've brought it up… where was your father in all this?"

Yang was silent for a moment. "Grieving," she said, pulling up a chair and sitting down. "When Mom left… it hit him pretty hard. He… pulled himself together eventually, but…"

"Too late for you?" Sunset guessed.

"You could say that," Yang said lightly, and without concern. "So tell me about these galas?"

Sunset raised one eyebrow.

"I really want to know how an Atlesian faunus ends up this incredibly stuck-up."

"I am not incredibly stuck-up," Sunset declared. "I am regularly stuck-up. I am precisely as arrogant as my abilities warrant."

"We'll agree to disagree on that," Yang muttered. "So how did it happen?"

"Well, for a start, I wasn't born in Atlas," Sunset told her. "I moved to Atlas to pursue my destiny and attend combat school. I was raised outside the kingdoms."

"Okay, so how does a faunus from some mudhole in the wilderness-"

"My home was not a mudhole!" Sunset snapped. "And it was certainly not in the wilderness; my home… my home was glorious. My people… my people are isolationist, not backwards." That seemed the best explanation that she could give for why Yang wouldn't know about this place. "They keep themselves to themselves, but they are… in their own way, they are as advanced as Atlas and as cultured as Mistral. Where I lived… it was beautiful. Beautiful as Mistral is beautiful but more, so much more. A city of golden spires and marble balconies, a city of broad avenues lined with shrubs and bushes, a city where the light gleamed off the white walls, a place of light and music, where song was as likely to be heard in the streets as the chatter of commerce."

"Sounds idyllic," Yang observed. "Why would you leave all that behind for… this?"

"For destiny, as I said," Sunset replied.

"It must have been some destiny."

"I thought so, at the time," Sunset said. She chuckled. "Now… I think I mostly stay for them."

Yang smiled. "Ruby has that effect. Just like I told you she would, if I remember right."

"Yeah, yeah, you were right about that," Sunset conceded. "Saying 'I told you so' is a very bad look."

"Saying that somebody else has low taste is a pretty bad look itself."

"I was only being honest."

"You were also being a colossal jerk," Yang said. "But anyway, is that where you got your taste in parties?"

Sunset nodded. "The Grand… the Grand Gala," she said. "The highlight of the social calendar, when the palace would be thrown open to the nobility and the gentry and to the favourites of the princess." A wistful smile played upon her lips. "But nobody was more favourite than me. I would stand by her side as all ascended the stairs to pay their court and tribute to her, listening as the soft strains of the music floated overhead as gently as any sucking dove."

"And you enjoyed that?" Yang asked incredulously.

Sunset glared silently at her.

"I'm just saying, it doesn't sound much fun," Yang said. She paused. "This is the part where you tell me it wasn't about having fun, isn't it?"

"Everyone always seemed to enjoy it," Sunset replied.

"Really?" Yang asked sceptically.

"Yes," Sunset insisted. "It was all very civilised and decorous, and if we adopt the same standards here, I think the Mistralian students will feel right at home."

"And everyone else will be bored," Yang insisted. "We're not nobles or anything like that; we're young and… and after this dance, we're all going out on field missions that we might not come back from," she said bluntly. "That's the bottom line. By the week after the dance, I could be dead. Blake could be dead. Pyrrha and Jaune and Ruby could be dead-"

"I won't let that happen!" Sunset cried.

"And we deserve to have had some fun before that happens!" Yang yelled. "We deserve the chance to cut loose and live a little!"

"By acting like hoodlums?"

"Yes!" Yang shouted. "If that's what you think, then fine, but we deserve better than to be forced to button up and have sticks shoved up are asses before we go into battle!"

Her appeal was forceful and… not without force, Sunset had to admit. This was, after all, a dangerous occupation, and every freshman student would be embarking on missions, no exceptions – not even for teams like CLEM that hadn't signed up for missions in the ordinary course of things; after the dance, they too would be expected to do their part – which would throw them directly into harm's way.

Maybe it was wrong of Sunset to bore them to death first.

That still didn't mean she was willing to give up everything, however.

"How much budget do we have?" she asked Yang. "How many lien did Professor Goodwitch say we could spend?"

"Twenty thousand lien," Yang replied. "Why?"

Sunset shrugged. "For that much, we could probably hire Vinyl Scratch and the Octavia String Quartet. And we could have my hors d'oeuvres and your… meat. And-"

"I get the picture," Yang muttered. "And maybe we could afford to do both of what we want, but a string quartet and a DJ, what will that sound like?"

"Dubstep string music, I don't know," Sunset admitted. "Maybe they'll take it in turns, or maybe they'll invent a whole new genre of music. Now wouldn't that be fun?"

Yang considered that for a moment, before a slow grin began to spread across her face. "Now you're starting to get it," she said. "Okay, let's budget this out. How much is the quartet?"

And so they worked out numbers, the cost of hires and the cost of machines and the cost of food, and as they worked, the dance took shape around them.

 

[ScipioSmith]

Looking Forward to Some Fun (Hoping All Our Friends Will Come)​

"So," Yang said, "is everyone looking forward to the dance this weekend?"

The long table was packed out that breakfast, with teams SAPR, YRBN, RSPT, SSSN, and WWSR all crammed in together, side by side or facing one another across the wooden surface. Nevertheless, in spite of the number of people present, there was no immediate response forthcoming.

Yang rolled her eyes. "Well, don't everyone speak up at once."

Pyrrha swallowed the bite of sausage upon which she had been chewing. "I'm looking forward to it, Yang; I'm sure that you and Sunset have done a wonderful job."

Sunset snorted. "Of course you're looking forward to the dance, you're…" Sunset paused for a moment, looking up and down the table. "Are you and Jaune the only two people at this table with dates?"

Pyrrha's cheeks flushed a rosy red. "Well, um..."

Jaune put his hand on top of hers. "That's not really our fault, is it?"

"No, and I'm not saying it is your fault, although don't think that I don't notice that very subtle choice to emphasise how much more fortunate you are than the rest of us just now, Jaune Arc," Sunset said sharply. "I'm just saying, it's not surprising that you two are looking forward to this when you two are-"

"Don't forget about Blake," Sun reminded her.

"Blake has a date?" Sunset asked, in a tone that suggested that she had only pretended to forget instead of actually forgetting.

"Sunset," Blake murmured, in a warning tone.

"Okay, okay," Sunset said apologetically. "Although I actually did forget about the two of you. I feel like we don't see you around much."

"That's because you only see me when I want you to see me," Blake declared. "And I don't want you to see us together."

Sunset blinked.

Blake stared at her across the table, unblinking and unflinching.

"I… have no idea if you are being serious or not," Sunset muttered.

Blake raised one eyebrow. The faintest shadow of a smile played across her lips.

"Sometimes," Sunset said, "I think I liked you better when you were dour and miserable all the time."

"I've got a date too," Nora pointed out.

Sunset's eyebrows rose. "Really?" she murmured. "Who is it?" she asked, not because she didn't know – or couldn't guess – the answer but because she thought it might be more fun to ask regardless.

"Ren," Nora declared, as though that should have been obvious. Ren nodded silently.

Sunset leaned back a little, folding her arms. "I thought you two weren't-"

"We're not!" Nora squawked swiftly, before Sunset could finish. "We're going to the dance together as friends."

Once again, Ren nodded silently.

It was all Sunset could do not to roll her eyes. For Celestia's sake, just admit it already. Everybody knows, and you'll regret all of this playing coy when he sets his eyes on a girl who's willing to give him what he needs with no messing around.

Yep, you'll regret it for a long time to come.

Not that she cared about Nora, in the ordinary course of events, but if she really loved him, then she ought to show him somehow. Love… love was not the kind of thing that ought to be kept hidden away, locked in darkness. It deserved to bloom in sunlight, as all flowers did.

"So let me get this straight," Weiss said. "You two-" – she pointed at Sunset and at Yang in quick succession – "-organised the dance?"

"Yep," Yang replied. "Since Team Coffee were away longer than expected, we were asked to step in."

"I hope they're okay," Blake murmured.

"Everyone knows they're the best team in the sophomore year," Jaune said. "I'm sure they'll be fine."

"If that's so, then why aren't they back yet?" Blake asked.

"Some missions turn out to be tougher than the intel made out," Rainbow answered. "It doesn't mean they won't come out on top, especially if they really are Beacon's best."

"Are they, though?" Cardin asked.

Sunset's eyes narrowed. "Is this somewhere you really want to go, Cardin?"

Cardin held up his hands. "I'm just saying, she couldn't even-"

"Just drop it, okay?" Sunset advised him.

"There's a difference between fighting grimm and standing up for yourself against a bully," Blake said, adding a touch of extra venom to the last word. She glanced down the table at Rainbow Dash. "A lot of faunus think they have to mind their manners, don't they?"

"Yeah," Rainbow said, the word expelled quickly and sharply out of her mouth. "It's… it's the way to get by and not get labelled a troublemaker."

"Well, in any case," Weiss said, with the air of someone who is deliberately trying to change the subject, "I have a hard time imagining what something that you two organised together is going to look like."

"It will either look like a masterfully blended fusion of traditional and modern, highbrow and… populist," Sunset said. "Or it will be an incoherent mess; you'll have to see for yourself which one it turns out to be."

"Either one should be a lot of fun," Yang assured them all. "Rainbow Dash, Sunset tells me the DJ went to Canterlot."

"You got Vinyl Scratch?!" Rainbow demanded. "I didn't even know she was here in Vale!"

"Well, she is, and she's going to be here this weekend," Yang announced. "One question, why did she want to know if she could get her car into the ballroom?"

"Because the car transforms into a sound system," Twilight explained.

Yang stared at her. "You're kidding."

Twilight shook her head.

"Oh my god, you're not even kidding," Yang said. "Is that like mechashift technology?"

Twilight nodded. "About ten years ago, Atlesian scientists began to look at the idea of expanding the principles used in many weapons to other areas of life, with vehicles and even household appliances that transformed into completely different objects. The project never really got off the ground – in the end, nobody could really see the point of it – but it's perfectly possible, and the concept is still practiced occasionally."

"It may sound weird," Rainbow conceded, "but trust us, Vinyl's one of the best at what she does."

"Popular music," Ciel sighed.

"There's also a string quartet; you're welcome," Sunset said.

"Ah," Ciel said. "Much better."

"Something for everyone," Yang proclaimed brightly.

"You didn't want a string quartet," Sunset reminded her.

Yang shrugged. "Doesn't mean I can't take credit for the fact that we've got one."

Sunset sighed.

"I think it'll be great," Flash said. "I can hardly wait."

"I'll bet you can't," Sunset chuntered under her breath, unable to resist because look at him, look at Weiss, look at the pair of them… sitting next to one another!

She recognised the way Flash looked at Weiss. He looked at Weiss the way that he'd once looked at Twilight, and what were the odds that Weiss would react the same way that Twilight had? Why wouldn't she respond when Flash was so handsome and strong and kind and…?

Sunset felt her hand clench into a fist and had to consciously unclench it again and hope that no one noticed.

"Did you say something?" Weiss asked.

"No," Sunset said quickly. "I didn't say anything at all."

"Personally, I'm excited to see what you girls look like all dressed up," Neptune announced, flashing his teeth in a suspiciously sparkly grin.

Jaune looked at him suspiciously.

"Well, you won't be seeing me," Sunset announced, her decision catalysed by very recent events. "Because I'm not going."

"'Not going'?" Yang repeated. "What do you mean you're not going? It's our party!"

"It's not our party; it's just a party that we organised," Sunset replied. "It's not like it's my birthday or anything. Besides, party planners don't usually attend the parties that they plan."

Rainbow coughed. "Well, actually-"

"Pinkie Pie doesn't count," Sunset declared, cutting her off before she could make the inevitable objection.

"Why doesn't Pinkie count?" Rainbow demanded.

"Because she's not a real party planner!"

Rainbow scoffed. "In what world is Pinkie not a real party planner?"

"In this world where she doesn't get paid for it," Sunset said.

"Did you get paid to plan the Beacon dance?" Penny asked innocently.

"N- that is not the point!" Sunset snapped.

Penny cocked her head to one side. "Then what is the point?"

"The point is that I'm not going!" Sunset yelled, with more force than she had intended.

"But why not?" Ruby asked plaintively. "You have to go."

"No," Sunset said. "I don't, actually."

"It doesn't say much for the quality of your party if even you don't want to go to it," Neptune observed.

"There is nothing wrong with our dance preparations," Sunset insisted.

"Then why don't you want to go?" inquired Blake.

"Because I… have better things to do than to be harangued about this, if you'll excuse me," Sunset said, picking up her tray and getting to her feet. "I will leave you to your anticipation in peace." She started to walk away, her boots tapping up the cafeteria floor.

"But I made you a dress!" Ruby cried.

Sunset halted, wincing uneasily at the upset in Ruby's voice. She didn't want to offend Ruby, not in any way and certainly not by this boorish casting aside of her generosity, but… but she couldn't watch them together. She couldn't watch him with someone else.

And she knew that if she were there, then she wouldn't be able to take her eyes off him.

"Then I'm sorry I wasted your time," Sunset murmured, her tail curling upwards in embarrassment as she resumed her exit.

XxXxX​

Ruby slumped down on the table, resting her chin upon one arm. "She really doesn't want to go?"

"It'll be alright, Ruby," Penny said. "I'm sure that Sunset can wear your dress some other time."

Ruby groaned. "That's not really the point. I don't understand! What's gotten into her all of a sudden?"

Jaune thought that he had some idea, and it was all that he could do not to glower at Flash about it, but he didn't want to say anything in front of so many people – he had an inkling that Sunset wouldn't appreciate it if he did. "Sunset… is complicated," he said. "You know that."

"There's still time for her to come around," Pyrrha said.

"I guess," Ruby murmured. "She can be pretty stubborn, though."

"Don't worry," Yang said. "She will come around." She got up. "I guarantee it."

Ruby looked up at her elder sister nervously. "What are you going to do?"

"Nothing," Yang replied. "I'm just going to give her a sympathetic ear."

"Ear?" Blake repeated. "Or earful?"

Yang sniggered. "Whichever she needs more."

XxXxX​

Sunset blinked rapidly as she walked towards the dorm. That… might have been a mistake. Not deciding not to go to the dance, that had absolutely, one hundred percent, been the correct decision; no, she had no reservations about that… except for the fact that Ruby had seemed very disappointed about it, but even so…

No, what had been a mistake – probably – was storming off from breakfast like that. It almost guaranteed that people were going to keep on at her about it all day.

Plus… she was hungry.

Sunset blinked some more, wiping at her eyes with one hand. She wasn't crying. She had not been reduced to watery eyes by the mere thought of Flash with someone else. She was not that pathetic.

Maybe she should go and find Cinder, the one person who probably wouldn't tell her that she ought to go to the dance for spurious reasons.

"Sunset!"

Sunset sighed. Speaking of people telling me that I ought to go to the dance. She turned around to see Yang walking rapidly towards her, staying on just the right side of running.

Sunset sighed. "Yang-"

"You left Ruby feeling pretty down in the dumps back there," Yang pointed out.

Sunset bit her lip. "That's a bit of a below the belt opening, don't you think?"

"Not if it's true," Yang said.

"Even if it is true, that doesn't make it my fault," Sunset said sharply. "Though… I'm sorry if she is upset; that wasn't my intent. I don't see why it's a big deal to her, anyway. If it's about the dress, then-"

"It's not about the dress, although it is kind of a dick move to spring this on her after she finished it," Yang pointed out.

"Then what is it about?"

Yang rolled her eyes. "It's about the fact that you're her friend and you being unhappy makes her unhappy!"

"Is she an empath?"

Yang snorted. "I've sometimes wondered that myself," she admitted. She paused. "So why don't you want to go to the dance?"

"In the first place, I don't have to explain myself to you, and I will not," Sunset declared. "And in the second place, as much as you have very common tastes, I don't think you're an idiot. You don't need me to spell it out for you."

"You do realise they're not even dating, right?"

"He wants her," Sunset insisted. "I know what it looks like when my boyfriend-"

"You do realise that he's not your boyfriend anymore too, right?"

"I know what it looks like when he's into someone else," Sunset stated, rolling over Yang's objection. "I've seen that look before; I know what it means. He's into her, and… and why wouldn't he be?" She walked away from Yang, just a few steps, and sat down at the edge of the fountain. "She's rich and beautiful and popular-"

"Yeah, because you're such a lonely outcast," Yang muttered.

Sunset looked up at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you're probably more popular than Weiss is, and I can't believe that you still don't get that," Yang snapped. "Seriously, you're almost as bad as Blake; no, strike that, you're worse than Blake."

"How am I worse than Blake?"

"Because Blake has good reasons for thinking like she does; what's your excuse?" Yang demanded.

Sunset didn't dignify that with a reply. She simply said, "I don't want to see him with her. I will not suffer it."

"So instead you're going to… what?" Yang asked, as she sat down beside her. "Stay in the dorm room all night? Read in the library? Brood about the fact that you're alone and imagine the two of them together instead of seeing it?"

Sunset was silent for a moment. "Probably that last one," she admitted.

"Have you ever considered that maybe Weiss doesn't want to date him?" Yang suggested.

"She'd be a fool not to," Sunset muttered.

Yang whistled. "You had it bad, didn't you? Don't you?"

Sunset bowed her head, her ears drooping into her hair.

She felt a hand, Yang's hand, upon her shoulder. "Listen… I don't know what you and he were like. I didn't know you back then… I'm not going to pretend I really know you now, and I don't know him at all. Maybe he does like Weiss, maybe she even likes him. But what I do know is that there's nothing you can do about any of that. You can't stop him from moving on; you can't stop him from being happy. If he wants to date Weiss, if he wants to take her to the dance, then there's nothing you can do about that. All you can do… the only person you can choose for is yourself. You can't stop Flash being happy, but you can stop yourself being happy. Or you can choose to be happy."

Sunset snorted. "As if it were that easy."

"No, it isn't always easy, but it's possible," Yang declared. "I do it."

Sunset looked at her.

"Yeah, that's right; you think this smile gets here naturally all the time?" Yang asked. "I work at this. I choose this. I choose this instead of…"

Sunset waited for a moment. "Instead of what?"

Yang grinned. "No offence, Baconhair, but we don't know each other well enough for that."

"I suppose you're right," Sunset admitted. "If we were, you wouldn't still be calling me that atrocious nickname."

Yang laughed. "The point is that it's a choice. You can let what other people did to you, the way they've hurt you, you can let all of that push you down into the dirt, you can let it take you over, you can… you can let them win. Or you can move forward and find something better.

"You are so lucky, Sunset Shimmer," Yang went on. "I'm Blake's team leader now, but you and she share a bond I'm not sure that I'll ever have, especially not if she goes to Atlas at the end of this year. You've got four friends who would die for you – and yes, that includes Blake. I see the way that Ruby looks at you, and I… the point is that you have so much to be grateful for, to be happy about. You don't need this guy! Come to the dance, show him that he can't keep hurting you."

Sunset smiled wryly. "And make Ruby happy?"

"Well, yeah," Yang admitted. "That too."

Sunset looked away. Yang… Yang was right. She couldn't stop Flash from getting together with Weiss, any more than she could have stopped him getting together with Twilight. She couldn't control him any more; she couldn't dictate how he lived or what happened to him. The only person Sunset was hurting was herself. As painful as that, in itself, was to admit.

Maybe Flash would notice that she was there, maybe it would prove something to him, or maybe he wouldn't give a damn. But it might matter to Sunset herself, and that… maybe that would… it might help.

And… and it would make Ruby happy. And wasn't that the important thing, in the end? Ruby had looked forward to this, she had slaved over this making dresses for Sunset and everyone else, what right did Sunset have to rain on that by being miserable? What right did she have to be a black cloud over Jaune and Pyrrha's evening?

What right did she have to spread her unhappiness around?

None at all.

It would make Ruby happy; then so be it.

"Okay," she said. "I will go to the dance."

Yang nodded approvingly. "You won't regret it," she said. "I promise."

XxXxX​

Lyra leaned forwards across the table, glancing sideways to where the various members of the cool kids' table got up from where they'd been sitting.

The presence of Rainbow Dash and Twilight meant that Lyra couldn't help but be reminded of Canterlot. There had been a cool kids' table there, as well: centred on Rainbow and Twilight and their friends.

She could picture it clearly in her mind's eye: Rarity in her improbable outfits, Applejack with her countryisms, the way that Pinkie would so often have new cakes she was eager for everyone to try.

The difference between then and now… well, there were two differences between then and now, to Lyra's mind: the first of which was the cool kids of Beacon were, on balance, a lot less fun than they had been in Canterlot. The other was that Sunset Shimmer would never have gotten within a mile of the cool table at Canterlot, but now, she was the queen of it, even more than Rainbow or Twilight. Those two had ruled Canterlot, without seeming to realise it half the time, but now, they orbited about Blake, who was joint consort with Sunset, the twin suns around whom all others revolved.

Blake, Lyra was almost certain, didn't realise that fact; Lyra would be astonished if Sunset hadn't noticed yet.

Of course, back in those days of Canterlot, they – her and Bon Bon – had gotten close to the cool table upon occasion. No chance of that now. Not after the way they'd treated Blake.

And, to be honest, after the way that Sunset had treated her too; even if Blake's friends were willing to bury the hatchet, Lyra wondered if Bon Bon would be willing to do the same.

All of this might make it sound as though Lyra was watching them all enviously. Nothing could have been further from the truth. She was watching them, solely to see what would be the best chance for catching Ciel Soleil alone.

"Now," she urged. "Go now!"

"She's not alone now," Dove protested.

"She's as alone as she's going to get," Lyra insisted, looking around at her teammate and her friend, sat across the table from her. "Sunset's gone, Yang's gone, Twilight's going to talk to Neptune, and Rainbow is following her; the rest of Team Iron and Team Sun are pulling away. Seriously, now is your best chance."

Dove sighed. "This isn't a very good idea."

"It was your idea!" Bon Bon cried from where she sat next to him.

"No, it wasn't!" Dove hissed.

"You said that you'd go out with her!" Lyra reminded him.

"You wouldn't let up until I I picked someone that I might like to go to the dance with," Dove reminded them.

"If we had let up, you wouldn't have chosen," Lyra pointed out.

"Because I didn't want to choose!" Dove whispered sharply. He looked down at the table. "I just… will you please just leave it be? You don't… it's not like it's compulsory to have a date for the dance."

Lyra sighed. "It's not about the dance, Dove. It's about you."

Bon Bon placed one hand on his shoulder. "I know – we both know – that Amber meant a lot to you, but she's not here, and nobody knows where she is."

"Not the professors, not any of the students," Lyra added. "We put up those fliers in Vale, and nobody responded. Amber… she's gone, Dove." She would never say so, because it would seem cruel to compare Dove's plight to a song, but it put Lyra in mind of the tale of the Mid-Winter Bride, a popular traditional song for the holidays, about the bride who disappeared on her wedding night and was never seen again.

'Wherever he went, the children cried,

"The old man weeps for his fairy bride!"'

Lyra didn't want that for Dove, and after talking it over with Bon Bon, her friend didn't want that for Dove either. He was… he was one of the good ones, better than either of them really deserved, and he certainly deserved better than to grow old waiting for some girl who would never show; or worse, become so stricken with grief that he would throw himself headfirst into the battle and die, as the heartbroken groom did in some versions of the tale – Lyra had done some research into the truth behind the legend, and she was convinced to her own satisfaction that the true bride had been a Mistralian lady of high rank and that her husband had indeed gone to his death in battle not long after.

She didn't want that for Dove. They didn't want that for Dove. He deserved better than that.

Hence the dance, which had seemed the perfect time to ease Dove into the idea of seeing other people and moving on.

She had to admit, she wasn't sure why he had, under duress, chosen Ciel Soleil; she seemed rather stiff and awkward to Lyra, but then, she had to admit that Dove could be pretty stiff and awkward himself sometimes. It was part of his charm.

"You can't wait forever," Bon Bon said.

"It's only been a few months."

"She's gone, Dove," Lyra insisted. "And if she cared about you at all, then she wouldn't want you to waste your time pining away for her. And it's not like we're proposing that you, well, propose to Ciel. Just ask her to the dance. One night of fun. That's all it is." Although, hopefully, he would get a taste for it which would lead to more.

"And if you're going to do it, do it quickly," Bon Bon said.

Dove glanced at Ciel as she and her cohorts left the room. "She is… if I hadn't… she is-"

"Hot?" Sky suggested.

Lyra and Bon Bon both gave him what Lyra's grandmother would have called an old-fashioned look, while Dove said, "Don't be vulgar, please. She is… a very gentle person. But she must have a partner for the dance already."

"Nope," Lyra said. "I asked around." Thankfully, for all that she thought Lyra was odd and Bon Bon was a racist, Yang was sufficiently fond of Dove to tell Lyra what she needed to know about the state of play amongst the in-crowd. It was amazing how few of them had dates.

Bon Bon leaned forwards. "It would be such a shame for someone like that to have to go to the dance alone, don't you think?"

Dove's back straightened. It was almost sad how easily he could be manipulated by so simple a play upon his chivalry, but it was in his own best interests, and it wasn't as if Bon Bon would ever use that to get to him to do anything damaging.

"Yes," he declared. "Yes, it would." He took a deep breath. "Very well," he said. "I will… I will ask her. Excuse me, ladies, Sky."

He got up from the table and began to march with certain tread and resolute purpose across the dining hall in Ciel's footsteps.

Lyra and Bon Bon high-fived across the table as they watched him go.

"I don't see you two offering to help me get a date," Sky grumbled.

"You don't need the help," Lyra told him.

"Obviously, I do, since I haven't got a date," Sky replied.

"Okay, maybe you need help, but you don't need it," Lyra replied. "Dove… it's important that he starts moving on."

"Important for who?" Sky asked.

"Important for Dove!" Lyra answered.

"My love life is important to me!" Sky protested.

"Hush, you," Bon Bon snapped. "You know what we mean. It isn't healthy for him to keep brooding on Amber. He needs to keep moving forward."

Lyra nodded. "There's one thing I don't get, though," she said.

"What?" Bon Bon asked.

"How Amber could just break his heart like that," Lyra murmured. "I mean, he's such a great guy. How could she take his heart and step on it that way?"

Bon Bon was quiet, silent even, at least for a while. "I… I don't know," she admitted. "Sometimes… life… stuff happens, and it isn't always good, and it isn't always stuff we can control. Sometimes, things happen, and our lives change in ways we never could have imagined."

XxXxX​

Rainbow looked down at her scroll as she leaned against the wall, her left foot raised to tap lightly upon the stonework behind her.

"So, is it really unusual for the girl to ask the guy to the dance?" she asked.

"It's certainly not unheard of, in these progressive and enlightened times," Rarity replied from out of the scroll, "but it certainly isn't traditional. But then, Twilight has never been an entirely traditional girl, has she?"

"She isn't you, if that's what you mean," Rainbow replied. Sometimes, she thought that Twi and Rarity might have been switched at birth, what with how Canterlot-born Rarity acted like some high class Atlas girl and Twilight – an actual high class Atlas girl – acted like a normal person who happened to be very smart.

"Traditional ladies didn't work, darling," Rarity informed her dryly. "They had rich husbands."

Rainbow grinned. "Thought about that yourself?"

Rarity smiled. "I am determined that nothing but the very deepest love shall induce me into matrimony, and by the time that such arrives, I intend to have money enough for both of us. Or I shall end an old maid and teach Twilight's children to embroider bows and flowers onto collars and bodices and enunciate their words with perfect diction."

Rainbow chuckled. "Speaking of work, I'm not keeping you, am I?"

"I should tell you if you were, Rainbow Dash," Rarity informed her. "No, I'm on break at the moment." She paused. "So, what's he like?"

"Who?"

Rarity rolled her eyes. "Neptune Vasilias! Twilight's beau! Darling, you must give me details!"

Rainbow hesitated, struggling to come up with words to sum up Neptune Vasilias. "He's… he looks surprisingly like Flash."

"Really?" Rarity replied, one eyebrow arching. "Perhaps Twilight had more interest in him than she admitted at the time."

Rainbow frowned. "Then why didn't she just go for it?"

"Perhaps she didn't want to upset Sunset?" Rarity suggested. "Perhaps she felt that Flash's interest was not coming from a true or healthy place, what with his recent breakup and all. Or perhaps it's simply a coincidence. Is he a good man?"

"Flash or Neptune?"

"I'm beginning to suspect that you're being deliberately obtuse, darling."

"He's… okay, I guess." Rainbow murmured. "He thinks he's cooler than he is, which isn't hard, because he's not at all cool, even if he can do that flashy ping thing with his teeth."

"Well, not everyone can be as awesome as you, darling."

"I know that, but he's not even close," Rainbow replied.

"Is he perhaps self-aware?"

"Huh?"

"Nothing, darling, nothing at all," Rarity said airily.

"I guess he's a nice guy, and I don't think he'll hurt her or anything," Rainbow admitted. "I just… I don't see what she sees. I don't see that there's anything there."

"Hmm," Rarity murmured. "Obviously, I'm not there to judge for myself, but… you don't think it will last, then?"

"No," Rainbow said. "Should it?"

"Probably not, at our age," Rarity admitted. "Although, didn't you tell me that your new friends at Beacon seem rather serious?"

Rainbow nodded. "Jaune and Pyrrha," she said. "They-" Twilight walked past, alone, her shoulders slumped and her head bowed, her hands clasped together in front of her. Her steps were slow, and the toes of her shoes scuffed the ground as she walked, as if her feet were a little too heavy for her to pick up properly.

"Rainbow Dash?" Rarity called. "Is something wrong?"

"Maybe," Rainbow said. "I'm going to have to call you back, ok?"

"Of course, darling," Rarity agreed. "Speak to you soon!"

"Later," Rainbow said, as she hung up and tucked her scroll away, walking towards Twilight as she did so. With Twilight moving the way she was, it didn't take Rainbow long at all to catch up with her. "Twi?" she asked anxiously. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Twilight murmured disconsolately.

"Yeah, right," Rainbow replied. "Come on, Twi, what's up all of a sudden?"

Twilight mumbled something inaudible.

Rainbow leaned closer to her. "What?"

"He said no," Twilight repeated, loud enough for Rainbow to hear this time.

"WHAT?" Rainbow yelled, loud enough to turn several heads. She winced and started whispering. "What do you mean 'he said no'?"

Twilight looked at her. "It's just what it sounds like. Neptune… he didn't want to go to the dance with me."

"Seriously?" Rainbow said. She didn't ask why, or if Neptune had given any reason, because none of that mattered. All that mattered was that he was a jerk and that Twilight was upset. She reached out, wrapping one arm around Twilight's shoulders and pulling her into a warm embrace. "I'm sorry, Twi." She paused. "You want me to kick his ass?"

"Rainbow Dash," Twilight replied reproachfully. "It's not his fault."

"Yeah, it is," Rainbow declared. She bent her head and kissed Twilight on top of her head. "Any guy who cannot see how great you are-"

"I'm sure he had his reasons," Twilight interrupted.

Rainbow snorted. "This is why you're so special, Twi; the guy broke your heart, and now, you're defending him."

"He did not break my heart," Twilight insisted. "It wasn't like we were serious or anything." She paused. "In fact… this is probably a good thing."

"Twilight," Rainbow said. "You don't have to-"

"I'm serious," Twilight insisted. "With everybody at the dance and the CCT closed, I bet if I talk to the General, I can get permission to work there while it's empty. Using the processing power of the tower's mainframe, I might finally be able to trace whoever released that video of Blake."

"Oh, yeah, that," Rainbow said. The truth was that she had almost forgotten about that, but it would be useful information to have, especially since their other leads into the White Fang had all run into dead ends. Plus, if Twilight wanted to bury herself in work after the embarrassment of getting turned down, then who was Rainbow to argue with that? It would save her bumping into Neptune. "Yeah, I'm sure the General would be fine with that, if you're okay with missing the dance?"

"Missing what?" Twilight asked. "Standing around awkwardly on the edge of the room?"

"Yeah, I guess," Rainbow murmured. "I kind of have to show my face on account of being the team leader and all, but how about I slip away early and come join you in the tower? With no one looking, we can do that dorky dance of yours."

Twilight looked up at her. "Really? You hate that."

"I pretend to, where people can see me," Rainbow corrected her. "It's… actually kind of fun."

Twilight giggled. "Okay then, I'll talk to the General; with luck, we can have a little fun and get some good news for Blake."

"Okay," Rainbow said. "Listen, Twilight, I'm still-"

"It's fine," Twilight insisted. "There are more important things. Honestly? If I can finally trace that message and find who wanted Blake out of the way, then Neptune turning me down might just turn out to be a blessing in disguise."

XxXxX​

"You will note," Sunset said, as she and Cinder sat in the front row of the upper gallery of the amphitheatre, watching Pyrrha spar against Mercury Black. A smirk played across her face, and the leather of her jacket sleeves squeaked a little as she folded her arms. "That there are any number of snide comments that I could be making about your teammate right now, but that I am not making any of them because I am a classy lady who respects the team leader code."

Cinder matched Sunset's smirk with one of her own. Her words were preceded out of her throat by a deep, rich chuckle. "Is that so? You think there's some fault to be found with Mercury's performance?"

"You don't?" Sunset asked, mildly incredulous. "Pyrrha's kicking his ass."

"True," Cinder allowed. "But he is fighting the Invincible Girl, so I can't hold that against him."

Sunset shrugged; Cinder had just let her know that she, Sunset, wouldn't be allowed to hold it against him either any more than Sunset permitted any derogatory remarks about Jaune. And it wasn't as though there wasn't a point there: Pyrrha had a habit of making her opponents look like chumps by comparison. The fact that Mercury struggled to land so much as a hit on her didn't make him any different from any of her other opponents.

If she'd been feeling generous, she might even have been willing to concede that he was doing better than some.

"So," Cinder murmured, "are you looking forward to the dance this weekend?"

"I..." Sunset hesitated. She decided not to admit that she had very nearly not gone over fears she would have to watch her ex being happy with someone else. "It'll be alright, I suppose."

"Hmm, it's good that you're not getting your hopes up too high," Cinder said. "Nights like these... they're never as good as you think that they're going to be. As the moment creeps closer, your expectations build up and up, climbing higher than the clouds, higher than the tallest tower in Mistral; you imagine all the wonders that are waiting for you, all the delights that you'll sample, all of the attention you'll receive... all the happiness that you'll experience. You convince yourself that all your dreams are about to come true, and you'll be... and then the moment comes, and your fantasies make contact with reality: mundane, banal... and invariably disappointing. Don't get your hopes up, Sunset; it's the only way to avoid crashing down into despair."

Sunset stared at the other team leader in silence for a moment. "We're not still talking about the school dance, are we?"

"We're talking about absolutely everything," Cinder said. "Nothing you can ever do, nowhere you can ever go, is ever quite as wonderful as you dreamed it would be; it might be pleasant, you might even like it, but it will never wholly match the thing you built in your heart while you waited for it, planned for it, worked for it. And besides, it's the moment when all your hopes and dreams have been raised to their highest...that they are most vulnerable to being shattered, and your heart with them."

Sunset's eyebrows rose. "So...you're not looking forward to the dance, I take it?"

"Did I say that?" Cinder asked.

"...Pretty much, yeah."

"I'm sure you've done your best," Cinder allowed. "You and, um… Bang?"

"Yang."

"If you say so," Cinder murmured. "Yes, as I was saying, I'm sure that you've produced something… well, you know I probably shouldn't say this, but I have some hope that by the end of the night, we'll have had some real fun."

"What happened to not getting your hopes up?"

"It seems I'm an incurable optimist," Cinder confessed. "One who can't escape the feeling that, somehow, things are about to start going my way."

 

[ScipioSmith]

Shake Your Tail ('Cause We're Gonna Have a Party Tonight)​

The Beacon freshmen had got together and arranged on a one-night only change in the room dispositions for the dance: the girls would get changed in the rooms of teams SAPR and WSTW, while the boys would change in the rooms of YRBN and BLBL.

Which meant that Jaune was heading towards the YRBN dorm room to join Ren and Flash in getting ready for the dance when Sunset accosted him.

"Jaune," she called, peeling herself off the wall as she saw him coming. Her hands were clasped together behind her; she could feel the light plastic covering the flower underneath her fingertips, soft and cold and a little bit sticky by now. She kept it out of Jaune's sight as she walked towards him.

"Sunset," he said, taking in the fact that she was still wearing her school uniform. "Shouldn't you be getting ready with everyone else? Or did you change your mind again about going to the dance?"

"No, I didn't change my mind again!" Sunset snapped. "I just… I got you something." She held out the white carnation that she had hitherto been concealing behind her back. "A shop in the market was selling them ready for the dance; I wasn't sure if you'd have one."

"No, I don't," Jaune said. "What is it?"

Sunset rolled her eyes. "It's a carnation for you to wear in your buttonhole," she said. "The top buttonhole, before you make yourself look like an idiot, on the lapel of your jacket. Then, at the end of the night, you give it to Pyrrha."

"Why?"

"Because… it's a tradition," Sunset said. The tradition she was most familiar with was the one that said you wore a white carnation in your mane on the first day of exams and a pink one thereafter until the final exam, for which you wore red, but she was almost certain that there was a tradition about wearing them to formal dances and dinners like this as well. And if there wasn't, well… Pyrrha wasn't the kind of girl who would refuse a flower if Jaune offered it to her; she'd be mortified at the idea of embarrassing him in public, if nothing else. "It's one of those things to… okay, I don't actually know why, but I don't think it matters. It's a tradition, and I think it's cute, and I think she'll like it. This… she deserves to have the best night ever."

"I don't know about that, but I'll give it a try," Jaune said, a trifle nervously, as he took the carnation in its plastic sheet from Sunset's fingers. "But what about your night?"

Sunset smiled sadly. "Don't worry about me, I…it'll be okay."

"Will it?" Jaune asked.

"It'd better," Sunset said, injecting some levity into her voice, or trying to. "I planned this, after all. What would it say about me if even I couldn't enjoy it?"

Jaune frowned. "Sunset, come on."

Sunset's eyes narrowed. "Come where?"

"I'm being serious!" Jaune insisted. "Are you going to be okay? It's great that you're going to the dance to make Ruby happy-"

"Who says that's why I'm going?"

"I'm not an idiot, Sunset," Jaune told her.

"No," Sunset agreed. "No, you're not an idiot. But you are aiming at the wrong targets. I don't matter-"

"Sure you do, you're-"

"Not tonight I don't," Sunset insisted. "Don't worry about me, don't worry about what kind of night I'm going to have or whether or how I'm feeling, none of it! All that matters to you tonight is Pyrrha. Not me, not Ruby, only Pyrrha. She is the only star in the night sky tonight, understand?"

Jaune hesitated for a moment. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I get it."

"You'd better," Sunset said, "because she's shining just for you." She smiled. "You're a lucky guy."

"I'm aware," Jaune told her. "Trust me, I'm well aware."

Sunset smiled. "Yeah," she murmured. "Yeah, I believe you are. Have a nice night, Jaune Arc. Have the best night ever."

"Thanks, you… you have a good night yourself."

"Sure," Sunset said, without a huge amount of conviction, before she turned away and began to walk back in the direction of the SAPR dorm room.

XxXxX​

Jaune had a frown creasing his forehead as he knocked on the door to the YRBN room.

Ren answered the door, still wearing his green casual and combat outfit. "Jaune."

"Hey, Ren."

"Is everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Jaune said. To tell the truth, the look on Sunset's face had stuck with him, the way that she'd looked as though there was little chance of her having a nice night, never mind the best night ever.

It's not like I need to be a genius to work out why she didn't want to go to the dance in the first place.

Maybe it's not my place to do anything, but things can't go on like this. Something has to change, for Sunset's sake.

And as for the idea that I should only be thinking about Pyrrha right now… I'm not sure how much I'm supposed to trust all of Sunset's advice when it comes to romance.

No. No, he had to do something. Maybe it wasn't the best time, but it was the time when he had finally realised that things could not go on like this. Something had to change.

Someone had to make that change, since Sunset clearly wasn't going to.

Ren made way, and Jaune walked into the room. He could hear water running in the bathroom next door.

Cardin was not there, which was all to the good as far as Jaune was concerned; he might have changed, but Jaune wasn't sure that he was ready to get undressed in the same room as Cardin Winchester.

He wasn't sure that he'd be able to say what needed saying with Cardin Winchester in the room, either.

"Flash is just taking a shower, but he should be out soon," Ren said. "You can go in next, if you like."

"Are you sure? Because I got here last, and this is your room…"

"It's fine," Ren said. "I can dress very quickly. I don't need a lot of time to get ready."

"Oh. Okay, thanks."

Ren's purple eyes glanced towards the flower in Jaune's hand. "What's that?"

"A flower," Jaune said, although he realised a moment later that that was obvious. "Sunset gave it to me to wear."

"Ah. I see," Ren said.

"Apparently I'm supposed to give it to Pyrrha at the end of the night," Jaune went on. "She said it's a tradition. Is it Mistralian?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Ren replied. "It might be Atlesian."

"Or it's Valish, and I've just never heard of it," Jaune admitted. "Wouldn't be the first time."

Ren offered a very slight shrug of the shoulders. "Nevertheless, it seems charming enough. Perhaps I should have gotten one of those for Nora."

"I don't think she'll mind that you didn't," Jaune said.

"No," Ren agreed. "No, she won't."

Ren fell silent, and Jaune was left wondering if he was supposed to say something else. Unfortunately, he had no real idea what to say. He had eaten opposite Ren often enough, but he wasn't exactly the most garrulous member of Team YRBN, and he didn't seem to mind that fact at all; he gave far less of himself away than either Yang or Nora. As a side effect, Jaune had no idea what to say.

The sound of running water ceased in the bathroom, and after a minute or two passed in silence that might not have been exactly comfortable but wasn't really hostile either, the door opened, and Flash Sentry emerged, his lower half concealed behind a yellow towel.

"Oh, hey," he said, noticing Jaune as he rubbed deodorant under his armpit. "You got here, Jaune." He smiled. "I hope you don't mind that I took the first shower while we were waiting for you."

"No," Jaune replied. "I don't have a problem with that."

Flash frowned. "Is everything okay, Jaune?"

Jaune paused, wondering if it was the right thing that he was about to do; but after what he had seen of Sunset: her initial decision not to go to the dance because of Flash, the way that she'd been worried Jaune would mistreat Pyrrha, the terrible advice that she'd given Sun, the way that she would look or sound so sad whenever love entered the picture…

He couldn't just ignore it. He'd been putting it off for far too long.

"If you don't mind me asking," Jaune said, "what did you do to Sunset?"

Flash's eyes widened. "Huh?"

"Sunset's hurting," Jaune said. "And I think that you had something to do with it, and I want to know why."

"Uh, Jaune? I think I'll take you up on that offer to use the shower next," Ren said, and without further ado, he had disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door firmly behind him.

Flash sighed, and rubbed his temple. "Look, Jaune, do we have to do this right now?"

"Yeah," Jaune said. "Yeah, I think we do." He paused. "When Pyrrha and I first started going out, Sunset gave me a talk. She… she didn't trust me around Pyrrha because of what you did to her. If you could hear the way that she talks about guys, the advice that she gave to me and Sun about how to treat our girlfriends… you were there when she walked off and almost decided not to come to the dance because of you! Sunset… Sunset's my friend, and I keep seeing that she's hurting, and she needs help, and I don't know what to do because I don't understand what happened. All I understand is that it's because of you, because of what you did."

"I didn't do anything!" Flash cried.

"Something must have happened."

"Sure, something happened; she did!" Flash replied. "Come on, man, you're on her team. You know what she was like; you know what she was. I couldn't take it any more."

He turned away and wandered to the window, although the window itself was obscured by the drawn curtains. "Actually," he said, "that isn't true. I did do something. I lied to her about why we were breaking up."

"What?"

"I let her think that it was… because she was a faunus. I thought it was kinder to let her think that it was my… racism, I guess, rather than her… her. I thought it was for the best back then, but now, if what you say is true…"

"Now you think it did a number on her," Jaune said, who was beginning to suspect the exact same thing.

"You can't imagine what it was like," Flash said. "Sunset… she wasn't happy, and she held me responsible for whether she was or not. When she had a rough day, it was my job to make her feel better, to pick up the pieces, regardless of how I felt or how I was doing. And even when she had better days, it was… it was like it was all down to me, like I was the only reason there was any light in her life. And every day… every day I had to watch the person I… I cared about get more and more twisted and bitter until… I just couldn't take it any more.

"Maybe I should have done more to help her. I know that I shouldn't have lied to her. And I'm sorry if she's still upset over what happened, but… it's all so long ago now. What am I supposed to do?"

"Just…talk to her," Jaune said. "I don't know what it was like for you… but Sunset isn't like that any more. She has friends now, people she can rely on. She doesn't need to depend on you, just like she doesn't need to depend on me, or Pyrrha, or Ruby, or Blake, because she has all of us. There's more than one light in her life now, but… but I don't think she can get past you without your help."

Flash looked over his shoulder, and then turned around. "This is important to you, isn't it?"

"Like I said," Jaune replied, "she's my friend. We look out for each other."

Flash smiled. "She's lucky to have you. All of you."

"We're lucky to have her," Jaune said.

"I guess you are," Flash said. "Do you guys even realise what a lucky team you are? The team to beat, the team everybody's looking at?"

"I've… heard it said," Jaune said, thinking that Sunset had talked about their team in much the same way.

"And you are lucky to have her," Flash sighed. "When I saw her fight with Pyrrha last semester… Sunset was always brilliant, smart, ferocious, and ferociously talented…but I didn't know just how much she'd been hiding until I saw that fight. I didn't realise how bright, how brilliant her light was."

"It sounds a little like Sunset's not the only one who isn't over it yet," Jaune murmured.

Flash snorted. "I… I'll talk to her."

"Thanks, man," Jaune said. "I think… I think it'll really make her night."

XxXxX​

In the Team RSPT dorm room, the three organic members of the team put their combined talents together to help Penny get ready for the dance. Or rather, Ciel and Twilight had put their combined talents together, since Rainbow Dash didn't have many useful skills in that regard.

But that didn't matter, since between them, Ciel and Twilight had the know-how to make Penny like… pretty darn good, actually.

"A girl your age doesn't need much make-up," Ciel informed her subject, as she applied some wings of rose gold eye shadow. "Just a little bit, to accent your best qualities." She straightened up. "And we are done."

"You've done a great job, Ciel," Twilight said. "You've got a real talent for this stuff."

"Yes, thank you so much for all your help!" Penny cried, clapping her hands together in front of the mirror that Twilight was holding up to her face. "You've all done so much for me tonight! Is this what it's like to have sisters?"

"It's not what it's like with my sister," Rainbow muttered.

Ciel glanced at Rainbow Dash where she sat on her bed. "I didn't believe that you had any sisters."

"I have… okay, she's not technically my blood sister or anything, but she's as good as," Rainbow said. "And we don't do any of…" – she waved one hand airily – "this."

"I think if you asked our friend Rarity, she'd tell you that having a sister involves less make-up tips and more… well, yelling and screaming," Twilight said softly. She laughed nervously. "But anyway… you look really great too, Ciel."

Rainbow was not so sure. Ciel was dressed in an expansive and many-layered blue ballgown, with a few hints of white lace petticoat peeking out from underneath the second – and darker blue – layer of skirt, while an upper layer of a lighter shade covered… three quarters of the dress, as far as Rainbow could work out, so that it was hard to see the point in the lower layer. The bodice was ridiculously fancy, with no less than five bows on it, one at the waist where the bodice met the skirt, one halfway up where a lower layer of lace frills beneath the collar converged, and one, the most extravagant because it was actually two bows one on top of the other, sitting in the middle of the collar that was falling off Ciel's shoulders and which was adorned with lace frills and two more small bows at the shoulders themselves. Each bow had a gleaming blue gemstone in the centre of it. It looked… it looked to Rainbow like the kind of thing Rarity would think was a bit over the top, but then, Rainbow wasn't Rarity and so she couldn't really say for sure.

And Twilight thought it looked nice, so who was Rainbow Dash to say any different?

Ciel curtsied. "Thank you," she said. "And for your earlier praise. I simply did my best with the time and materials available."

"So," Rainbow said, "what time is your date getting here?"

Twilight gasped. "You have a date?"

Ciel sighed. "Is it not possible for me to have even a little privacy?"

"Not in a room this size," Rainbow said.

"Hmm," Ciel said. "His name is Dove Bronzewing, a young gentleman of Tintagel who requested the pleasure of my company. Since he is of reasonable character and decently regarded, I saw no reason to refuse him."

"Only you would talk that way about your own boyfriend," Rainbow said.

"He is not my boyfriend," Ciel declared firmly. "He's just a handsome, well-mannered young man of no ill-repute who is escorting me to the dance in-" – she wasn't wearing her watch over the white opera gloves she had on presently, so Ciel picked up her scroll off the desk and checked the time – "two minutes."

There was a knock on the door.

"Or he could be early," Twilight said.

Ciel picked up her skirt with both hands and went to the door.

On the other side when she opened it was Lyra and Bon Bon's replacement teammate, Dove, dressed in a blue double-breasted jacket with tails hanging down the back of his cream britches, with polished black boots as high up as his knees, and an amber cravat wrapped around his neck. He held himself stiffly, awkwardly, a slightly wide-eyed look on his face as though he wasn't sure why he was here or what he was meant to do, and for a moment, Rainbow thought he was about to freak out there in the doorway, but he seemed to recover enough to take Ciel's gloved hand in his and raise it to his lips as he bowed.

"Miss Ciel," he said as he brushed his lips across her knuckles.

A sort of mild squeal of excitement passed from Ciel's lips, making Rainbow wish that she'd set up her scroll to record it for posterity. "You… you're early."

Dove cleared his throat. "I apologise, Miss Ciel, I hope I didn't inconvenience you.."

"A gentleman would need to be far earlier than you in order to be inconvenient, sir," Ciel declared.

"I am glad," Dove replied. "Are you ready to go, this, Miss Ciel?"

"I will be, in just a moment," Ciel said. "Will you excuse me."

Dove bowed his head. "Of course. I'll be waiting right here."

Ciel curtsied to him before closing the door. She crossed the room quickly to her bed, where a white clutch bag was waiting. Into this bag, she placed her scroll and the pistol that she normally kept under her pillow.

"You're taking a gun to the dance?" Twilight asked.

"I would rather have one and not need it than be without it in the event of an emergency," Ciel explained. "Now, if you will excuse me?"

"Have fun," Rainbow said.

"And thanks again for all your help!" Penny cried.

"It was a pleasure and a privilege," Ciel assured her as she slipped her bag over her hand and let it dangle delicately from her carefully positioned wrist. She opened the door open. "I am ready to go."

"Excellent," Dove replied, still sounding a little more nervous than enthusiastic. "Will you… will you take my arm, then?"

"Of course," Ciel said, as she slipped her hand through the crook of Dove's arm and rested her fingertips upon his elbow. With her free hand, she lifted up some of her voluminous skirt out of the way of her dress.

She looked up at Dove, but he was looking straight ahead as the door closed behind them.

"I guess they're well matched in acting kind of weird sometimes," Rainbow observed.

"Some people like old-fashioned manners, even when they're not actually old-fashioned," Twilight pointed out. "Like Rarity."

"Yeah, I guess so," Rainbow allowed.

Penny stood up. She was dressed in a plum-coloured dress with a broad skirt that descended to just below her knees, with a white collar falling off her shoulders and little see-through puffy sleeves just underneath, with a purple bow tied at the centre of the collar and two more looking like they were tying off the sleeves. Most of her arms were bare, but a pair of white gloves covered her hands and wrists and got a little bit of the way towards her elbows. A necklace of green beads hung from her neck, as well as green earrings and bead bracelets upon both wrists. "Can we go now as well?" she asked

"Uh, sure, why not?" Rainbow asked, rolling off the bed and getting to her feet. The dress that she had received from Rarity had not been at all what Rainbow was expecting, to be honest; instead of a bodice, she was wearing a double-breasted blue jacket with polished silver buttons, only partially hidden beneath a fur-trimmed cape, not quite long enough to reach her waist, fastened around her neck with a lightning bolt clasp. A golden sash was wound around her waist, beneath which she wore a thin skirt, dark blue with a light blue and gold hem, over a pair of tight-fitting trousers and boots.

"Listen, Twi," Rainbow said, "are you sure that you don't want to come?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Twilight said. "Maybe if Pinkie and the other girls were here-"

"I'm here," Rainbow reminded her.

"I know that," Twilight acknowledged, "but if we're going to hang out, I'd rather just the two of us than a party planned by Sunset Shimmer."

Rainbow snorted. "I guess that's fair."

Twilight smiled. "And I really do have a lot of work to do. Hopefully, with all the power of the CCT at my disposal, I can really make some progress on this trace."

"Okay," she said. She picked up the black slouch hat, with one corner folded up and a long golden feather in it, which Rarity had sent to complete her outfit. She placed it down upon her head. "Have a good time playing with computers until I get there."

"I'm not playing," Twilight complained. "But I'll try my best. Have a great time, Penny."

"I'll try my best!" Penny declared. "Okay, Rainbow Dash, let's go!"

XxXxX​

Twilight Sparkle waited until Rainbow Dash had left with Penny before she, too, took her leave of the dorm room. She was not dressed up; in fact, she was a little more casually dressed than normal, having dispensed with her bow tie for the evening in order to let her collar hang loose. This might be a long night, after all.

Opening up her scroll, Twilight checked off that everything on her checklist was in the bag that waited beside her bed: computer, check; coffee, check; notepad, check; pencils, check; book to read during periods of long processing, check and double check – because she had two books, one on compressive engineering and the other on legendary creatures.

Twilight slung the rucksack over her shoulders and left the dorm room. Already, the dormitory corridor beyond was so empty as to warrant the adjective 'deserted'; everyone who wanted to go to the dance must have left already, and she guessed that anyone who didn't want to go was keeping themselves occupied quietly in their rooms. She didn't see anyone else as she left, although once she got out onto the grounds, she could see students in dresses or dinner suits making their way towards the ballroom. None of them noticed Twilight as she headed the opposite direction, towards the CCT.

That part of the courtyard was as deserted as the dormitory had been, save for the Atlesian soldier, with yellow highlights on his armour – Twilight was not a soldier, but she had grown up in a sufficiently martial milieu to know that that meant Light Company – standing guard on the steps outside the tower door.

Twilight fished her scroll – which had her authorisation from General Ironwood to be in the tower during a closed period – out of her bag and held it up as she climbed the steps.

The guard leaned down to look at it. "That looks in order. We were told to expect someone. Go right ahead, but don't put that scroll away; you'll probably have to show it again once you get inside."

"Right, thanks."

"Have a nice night."

"You too," Twilight said, as she left the guard at his post and walked through the large, faux-wooden doors of the tower.

She did indeed have to show her scroll again once she walked in, to prove to the sergeant that she was the one they'd been expecting.

"That checks out," the sergeant said. "Hey, aren't you Shining Armor's kid sister?"

"Yeah," Twilight said. "You know my brother?"

"He was my CO for a while," the sergeant replied. "Good guy, talked about you a lot; I hear you're some kind of genius."

Twilight felt her face flush. "Well… I try my best."

"All you can do. So, how's your big bro? How's married life treating him? He's Council Guard now, right?"

"Captain of the Council Guard," Twilight said, in a voice that she hoped struck the right balance between pride in his accomplishment and an appropriate sense of modesty.

One of the other soldiers patrolling the lobby whistled appreciatively. "Nice."

"Hey, quit listening in on other people's conversations and do your job!" the sergeant snapped. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine," Twilight said quickly. "And Shining Armor is fine too; he and Cadance are very happy. I think she's glad he has a post where he can come home every night."

It occurred to Twilight the moment after she said that that it might have been the wrong thing to say to a man who didn't get to go home every night to his family, but the sergeant didn't seem to take offence. "Lucky guy. He'll appreciate it even more once the kids come along."

"Run, kid, he's about to show you his family photos!" one of the soldiers shouted.

"Hey! You want to be cleaning out the toilets on the Resolution from now until the end of the tournament, keep talking," snapped the sergeant. "Anyway, you can go right up. There'll be patrols up there every hour or so, but I can send a guy to keep an eye on you if you like."

"No, that won't be necessary, thank you."

"Okay. Just give a holler if you need something."

"I will," Twilight said, as she walked towards the elevator. "But I'm sure that tonight is going to be very quiet."

XxXxX​

"So, uh," Pyrrha hesitated as she stood in front of them, her hands spread out on either side of her. "How… how do I look?"

Pyrrha was dressed in a gown of crimson and shimmering gold, with the red, strapless, shoulderless bodice partially concealed behind a wide golden sash that wound up from her waist to her shoulder, where it was tied off into a large bow that gently tickled her neck as she walked. Her skirt followed a similar pattern, with a red underskirt of a full, almost ballgown cut, of which only a section at the front was visible from beneath the gold peplum that surrounded it on all other sides down to the floor. Around her waist was tied a somewhat shorter red sash than she usually wore, with the disk bearing her spear emblem fastened to her right hip. Long white gloves enclosed her pale arms, while above her left elbow, she wore her golden honour band. Her circlet held its accustomed place upon her brow, and she wore her hair in its accustomed ponytail. A single emerald, teardrop shaped, sat upon her breast, suspended by a chain of gold about her neck.

Blake nodded approvingly. Sunset looked up and down the gown of scarlet and gold.

"You look great," Sunset said. "But there is something missing."

"Really?" Pyrrha asked. "What?"

Sunset's hand glowed with magic as she levitated a box up from underneath her bed and sent it gliding through the air towards Pyrrha. "A present."

"A gift?" Pyrrha repeated. "What's the occasion?"

"Um… something however many monthaversary?" Sunset suggested. "Just say thank you and open it up."

Pyrrha opened the box, pulling out a corsage of white roses and baby's breath. "Oh, Sunset, it's lovely," she cried. "Thank you." She smiled. "Would you mind helping me-?"

Sunset wiggled her fingers, still aglow with magical power, and the glistening diamante clasp on which the corsage rested fastened itself around Pyrrha's wrist.

"Thank you, again," Pyrrha said. She looked down at it for a moment, the flowers sitting upon her glove, before her gaze once more took in the rest of her outfit. "And you think that Jaune will-"

"Yes," Sunset said sharply. "For Celestia's sake, don't go getting insecure on us now."

"I'm sorry," Pyrrha said, as if it were automatic. "You're right, of course; Jaune will love it because it's a lovely dress. In fact, it's a beautiful dress, Ruby, absolutely beautiful!" She twirled in place, crimson and gold fabric rustling as it swished around her. "Oh, thank you so much. How can I ever repay you?"

"You don't have to worry about that, Pyrrha," Ruby said, a smile illuminating her silver eyes. She got up off her bed – and promptly tripped over her high heels with a squawk of alarm. "Although if you want to return the favour, maybe you could tell me how you and Blake manage to fight in these death traps?"

"Practice, I'm afraid," Pyrrha murmured apologetically.

"Once you wear them often enough, you get used to the difference in your centre of gravity," Blake said.

"Okay," Ruby said, holding her arms out like a tightrope walker with his pole as she teetered and tottered where she stood. "But can I follow up by asking why you'd even want to?"

"I trained in high heels from the moment I started training," Pyrrha said. "I was told a feminine touch would be good for my image."

"Seriously?" Sunset asked.

Pyrrha shrugged. "Tournaments, as you'll find out when the Vytal festival starts, are fought in the public eye as much as in the arena. There's no point being a champion if everyone in the crowd is rooting for you to lose."

"I don't know," Sunset said. "If I was in that position, I might take a certain glee in winning anyway to spite the lot of them."

"But who'll want to sponsor a detested champion?" Pyrrha asked. "Who wants to buy a magazine carrying an interview with the person they hate?"

"Who wants to buy cereal with the face of the biggest heel on the circuit on it?" Sunset finished.

Pyrrha's cheeks flushed a bit. "Yes, well… exactly."

"Don't blush; you'll make your make-up run," Sunset said, with a slight trace of a smirk. "It's all a big business really, isn't it?"

"Absolutely," Pyrrha said. "As much as I sometimes wish it wasn't."

"You may not like it, but you know a lot about the way it works," Blake pointed out.

"I wasn't given much of a choice," Pyrrha said.

"Do I have a choice about whether to wear these stupid lady stilts?" Ruby asked. She tried to take a step forward and nearly fell backwards.

Sunset leapt up and grabbed her outstretched hand. "You're trying to put too much weight on your toes; lean backwards." She remembered what it had been like, trying to learn to walk on two legs instead of four. At first, her every step had felt like walking on powdered glass, her unfamiliar muscles aching and straining as she had to almost break them in at an age when all of her human or faunus contemporaries had been using them for years. She'd been in and out of the faunus free clinic on the corner of the block so often with strains and pulled muscles in her early days that the nurses had recognised her by sight. Even standing upright and erect had been a trial for her, a trial that had required as much determination on her part to master as learning any complex spell had done back in Equestria. And when the time had come to learn to walk in high heels, well… if she hadn't activated her aura by then, she would have broken her neck falling down the stairs at Flash's place at least twice.

She had learned how, because Sunset Shimmer was not a person who accepted her limitations, but she still didn't particularly like it.

There was a reason she wore boots as a matter of course.

Still, she suspected that she understood what Ruby was going through a little better than Blake or Pyrrha were capable of, and so she moved to position herself in front of Ruby and gently reached out to take Ruby's other hand in her own.

"This isn't standing on tiptoes," Sunset said. "Don't put all your weight forward, or you'll end up leaning forwards. Step with your heel first, then put your toe down. Take it slowly. I've got you."

Sunset stepped backwards as Ruby stepped – gingerly, very gingerly – forwards. She did as Sunset had told her, stepping forward with her heel first. She wobbled in Sunset's grip, but not so badly as she had done before.

"There, see?" Sunset said. She grinned. "And now we can move on to ballroom dancing."

Ruby giggled. "Thanks, Sunset."

"No problem," Sunset said, backing up another step as Ruby stepped forward with her other foot.

Someone knocked on the door. It turned out to be Jaune. "Uh, am I too early?" he asked. "Because I can come back if I'm too early; it's no big deal. Well, actually, Ren's already gone, so I wouldn't be able to get back into the Iron dorm room, and I don't really want to go wait with Cardin, but I could go… somewhere and wait for you if you're, uh… I'll be honest, I grew up with seven sisters, but I never found out what they actually did to get ready for parties; it was kind of like a magic box where Saffron stepped in looking like one thing and came out looking like something else… a magic box that takes awhile." He laughed nervously. "It's kinda funny; the first time it happened, I thought she'd been replaced by a monster or something-"

"Jaune," Pyrrha's voice was right with amusement as she opened the door. "You don't need to go anywhere. You're right on time."

Jaune – Sunset was pleased to note that he was wearing the carnation in his buttonhole; in fact, he looked rather nice in his black tailcoat and ribbed dress shirt, with a white tie around his neck and a white scarf draped across his shoulders. A top hat, Sunset thought, would have set the whole thing off nicely, but it might also have looked a little pretentious, so she would forgive the absence – stared at her. "…wow. You, you look… wow."

Pyrrha laughed. "And you look very dashing yourself, Jaune."

"Really?" Jaune asked, as Sunset noted that he was wearing a red sash around his waist, like the time in the forest when Pyrrha had given him her sash to wear.

Pyrrha, you don't have a thing to worry about.

"So," Jaune said. "Are you ready to go?"

"I'll join you, if you don't mind," Blake said. "I expect I'll find Sun waiting for me at the ballroom."

"Why don't we all go down together?" Pyrrha suggested, looking back at Sunset and Ruby. "As a team."

"Great idea," Ruby said. "If you're sure you don't mind me slowing you down in these stupid things."

"Not at all," Pyrrha said. "I think it will be nice if we do this together. Jaune?"

"Sure, sounds great," Jaune agreed.

"Well, okay then," Sunset agreed. "Let's dazzle Remnant."

Sunset wore a dress of velvet green with a slender silhouette, shoulderless but high-necked, leaving her arms bare but rather fastening around her throat with a black collar that almost resembled a choker. The bodice hugged her figure, while the skirt did not stray from her legs at all unless Sunset's right leg itself strayed out via the long slit on that side of the skirt, from the hem all the way up to Sunset's thigh, exposing her leg to view as she walked.

Ruby wore a little red dress, with a skirt that stopped just below her thighs, the remainder of her leg being covered by dark, nearly opaque tights. The dress was strapless and shoulderless, but a similar substance covered her upper body and neck. A black sash was bound about her waist, tied into a bow upon her right.

Blake was rather understatedly dressed in a dark purple cocktail dress, with cap sleeves and a rather plain black belt around her waist. For one night only, the bow was back in her wild black hair – complementing, not covering, her ears this time – and black onyx bracelets dangled from her wrists.

The five of them went down together, arm in arm, only slowed down a little by Ruby's discomfort in and lack of familiarity with high heels – with Sunset on one side and Blake on the other holding onto her, she was a lot more relaxed about the chance of falling down. As they walked down the empty corridors and deserted staircases, passing out of the dormitory and into the grounds where the brisk night air caressed her face, Sunset was surprised to realise just how relaxed she felt. It wasn't a feeling she usually associated with these kinds of social gatherings. She had attended the Canterlot formals, if only because to have stayed away would have been an admission of fear, and she would never give her enemies the satisfaction of knowing that they had scared her off, but even when she and Flash had been together, she had always been on edge during those evenings. Even when he had been by her side, and even more when he had not, she had always been waiting, fearfully; waiting for the prank, for the humiliation, for the attack, for whatever they had planned for her.

There hadn't always been anything to worry about, but that had never stopped her from worrying.

After all, there had been times when there had been something to worry about.

But now, with one arm slipped into the crook of Pyrrha's elbow and her other hand holding on to Ruby, Sunset found herself astonished by her lack of such fears or nerves. Instead, she felt relaxed, comfortable; unafraid. Her team, her friends, they would stand by her. And that meant she had nothing to worry about.

So long as they stand by me. That was the less obvious danger of Jaune and Pyrrha pairing off: not that they would break up, but that they wouldn't, that they would revolve around each other like binary stars drifting out of Sunset's orbit and far away.

Or not. Even if they are in love, they'll still need friends, right? Sunset put her worries aside. For now, for tonight, she could relax.

Blake's prediction was borne out as they found Sun waiting outside the ballroom. His concession to formalwear appeared to have been changing his jacket and wearing a tie around his bare neck in a way that – to Sunset – made him look more underdressed than he had been without.

Blake seemed to like it, though, and that was probably the only thing that really mattered.

Pyrrha and Jaune, Blake and Sun entered the ballroom in pairs; they clearly weren't the first to arrive, but judging by the numbers already waltzing on the dance floor, they weren't the last ones either. Ruby and Sunset were about to follow when-

"Ruby!" Penny called; she left Rainbow Dash behind as she ran across the stones of the courtyard towards them. "I'm so glad I caught you before you got inside," she said. Penny looked Ruby up and down. "I wanted to thank you for this amazing dress!" She didn't so much twirl as run around in a circle, arms spread out on either side of her as though she were trying to fly. "I love it so much!"

Ruby giggled. "I'm really glad, Penny. It looks great on you."

Penny beamed. "Ruby, would you like to accompany me inside?"

Ruby hesitated for a moment. "Sure I would Pen-aaagh!" That last squawk was on account of the way that Penny hadn't waited for her to finish before grabbing her hand and dragging her into the ballroom at a flat run, leaving Sunset and Rainbow Dash standing outside eating their dust.

"She's… energetic," Sunset observed.

"She's been looking forward to this," Rainbow replied.

"Why?" Sunset asked. "It's not going to be that good."

"Maybe for her, it will be," Rainbow siad. "I mean, it's not like she has any other dances to compare it to."

"I guess," Sunset conceded. "Still, with nothing to compare it to, what does she have to look forward to?"

"Music? Fun?" Rainbow suggested. She paused. "Are you going to be okay in there?"

"Sure, I'll be fine," Sunset replied tersely. She paused. "Where's Twilight?"

"In the tower, working."

"Tonight?"

"She, um… that guy, Neptune, he-"

"Really?" Sunset gasped. She had never thought she would see the day when Twilight Sparkle, of all people, got turned down. "Why?"

"Twilight didn't ask."

"Why does he still have all his teeth?"

"I'm not going to beat him up just because he said no to Twilight," Rainbow said sharply.

Sunset looked at her.

Rainbow sighed. "Twi asked me not too."

Sunset chuckled. "So, Twilight decided that she'd rather work than show her face?" I wish I'd thought of that excuse.

"Pretty much," Rainbow admitted. "Do you want to go inside?"

"Not really," Sunset confessed. "But it beats standing out here, I suppose."

The two of them made their way into the ballroom; Yang had volunteered to work front of house, possibly because she didn't trust Sunset to do the job properly – and this was perhaps the one time Sunset would admit that she was right not to trust Sunset to do the job properly. Either way, Yang was standing in front of a white-grey lectern just beyond the doors, turned away from them as she watched Ruby and Penny, but she swiftly returned her attention to the doors and to Sunset and Rainbow as they entered.

"Hey, guys," she greeted them. To Sunset, she said, "Thanks for showing up."

Sunset's tail twitched. "No problem," she said. "Did we miss anything?"

Octavia's string quartet were up on the stage, the cellist setting the pace as the soothing sounds echoed across the ballroom. Some people were already sat at the tables or congregating around the punch bowl or sampling their hors d'oevres. Those couples who were on the dance floor were milling around, talking but not dancing; the music was not yet appropriate for it. Vinyl Scratch looked asleep, although with her eyes covered by magenta sunglasses – at night? Indoors? – it was hard to tell, she might just have been relaxing.

"Nah, you're still early," Yang told them. "I told them both to give it a little longer before they started the first dance. I don't want anyone to miss out."

XxXxX​

"So, do you want anything?" Jaune asked. "Punch or-?"

"I'm fine, Jaune," Pyrrha assured him as the music of the string quartet died down, leaving only the hubbub of the students in the ballroom. "Besides, I think it will be starting soon."

The cellist – Octavia, Sunset had said her name was – flipped a page in her music book, leading her fellow musicians to do likewise.

"Right," Jaune said. He smiled at her. "I suppose this isn't the best time to say that I don't know how to slow dance?"

Pyrrha looked up at him. It was impossible to tell from his expression whether he was joking or not.

Pyrrha covered her mouth with one gloved hand as she giggled. "I have no idea whether to believe you or not," she admitted. "But either way, I'm sure we'll be fine."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because I'm with you," Pyrrha told him. "And tonight, that's all I want."

The strings started up again, the music rising from their instruments to blanket the chatter of the dancers, which died away as everyone took their partners in hold or else were taken in hold by their partners.

Jaune took a deep breath. "Shall we?" he asked, as he held out one hand to her.

Pyrrha smiled close-mouthed as she placed her fingers into the palm of his hand, letting his fingers close over them.

Despite the silk of her glove, she fancied that she could still feel the strength of his touch, the gentleness.

He took her in hold, his hand upon her waist; her whole body tensed automatically, but then relaxed again as she placed her free hand upon his shoulder because this was nothing to be nervous about, nothing to be afraid of; this was Jaune. This… this was what she had been dreaming about.

The music swelled, the introduction over and the dance proper beginning, a slow waltz to get everyone started. All around them, the other couples were moving too, but Pyrrha had only a few seconds to register that because they were moving themselves, she was moving, guided by Jaune.

He had not been entirely inaccurate about the slow dancing; his movements were not clumsy, but they were considered, careful, as if he feared that he might make a misstep or a slip-up and was on his guard against such.

They were probably well-matched in that. For her part, Pyrrha feared that her own steps were too mechanical, too rote. There had been a time when she had loved to dance, but when the time came to instruct her in such dances as these, she had been taught not to indulge her passion but because it was a part of a young lady's education, traditional and expected, and such tuition had driven out any enthusiasm that she might have had for it. She knew the steps, but she had no feel for them; they were just places to stand, ways to hold herself, another way of performing for the audience.

Except there was no audience now. There was no one else on the floor, no one else in the ballroom, no one else in the whole of Beacon except for Jaune, and as they moved, as his grip upon her waist tightened without ever threatening to become painful, Pyrrha found herself moving more naturally, more instinctually, knowing what to do not because she had learnt it by rote but because she felt it as she felt the rhythm of the battlefield.

Her smile blossomed into something brilliant as she looked into Jaune's eyes. They were so blue. So beautiful. How was it she had not drowned in them?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a reverberating thud from up on stage. She and Jaune both looked that way for a moment without breaking step, not even while the music faltered.

The DJ, a girl whose pallor made Ruby seem tanned, whose messy hair was intermingled streaks of electric blue and cyan, had woken up or decided to get involved – those sunglasses made it hard to tell – and was now holding one headphone up to her ear as she worked her complex sound system.

The cellist, her raven hair cascading down her back, glared at her for a moment before attempting to continue on as though nothing had happened.

The DJ paused and seemed for a moment contemplative. Then a slow smile spread across her pale face before her fingers began to fly across her control panel, bass thumps and pounding beats erupting out of the speakers at her command. For a moment, string and speaker warred with one another… at least, that was what Pyrrha thought for those first few moments, before she realised that what she was hearing was not competition but… complementarity. The DJ was not trying to drive the strings off the stage, but to work with them, each pulsing beat filling a lull in the music of the quartet, even as the strings began to respond, bending and twisting around the beats like water flowing around the rocks that rise in the midst of a river.

Octavia's smile began to match that on the DJ's face as the two forces slid into perfect harmony.

It was not quite like anything that Pyrrha had ever heard before, but it was in no way distasteful for being unique. Rather, in its uniqueness, it was… quite wonderful: unique, yes, and strange, but in such a way as to make you wonder why nobody had thought of this before.

Jaune seemed to be of like mind, for as the music blended, his movements relaxed visibly, became less cautious, less controlled; just as Pyrrha had done, he began to flow with the music, his body twisting, turning, until he released Pyrrha by the waist and flung her outwards, throwing his own arm back – not hitting anyone, thankfully – as Pyrrha took a step back from him, her own arm out, the two of them joined only by the hand.

And then he grabbed her by the waist with both hands and lifted her up, into the air, above the dance floor, turning her in place with both hands as Pyrrha spread her arms out like a bird in flight.

This, she thought, is the best night ever.

XxXxX​

"I'm a little surprised you're so good at this," Blake confessed as the dance slowed down again enough for them to speak, albeit speak softly so as not to disturb anyone else.

"I… may have been practicing a little bit," Sun confessed. "I may have dropped those Atlesian etiquette classes but… I wanted to be able to do this."

"For me?" Blake asked, a touch of anxiety in her voice.

"For us," Sun clarified. "Or… for me. I didn't want to be like to Neptune, for one thing."

Blake didn't understand what he meant by that, but she decided to let it go and ask the question she was more interested in, "Is there another thing?"

Sun was silent for a moment, his becoming solemn. "I know that I won't have you forever," he said. "Even if you don't fly away to Atlas, I'll be flying back to Haven when the year ends-"

"You haven't thought about sticking around?" Blake asked.

Sun paused. "I've thought about it," he admitted. "But if I did that, if I hung Neptune and Scarlet and Sage out to dry so that I could be with you, I wouldn't exactly be the kind of guy you'd want to be with, would I?"

Blake didn't reply. She felt, she almost felt, like she didn't have to.

"You've made me a better person, Blake," Sun said. "It just kinda sucks that being a better man means that I won't have you for very long." He grinned. "Besides, I think I'd probably freeze to death up north."

Blake sniggered. "You might need to wear a couple of extra layers."

"But what I'm trying to say is," Sun went on, "that I wanted to be able to have these memories, with you, tonight, and to have them be good ones, so that even if we don't have very long together, I'll still have something I can remember."

Blake smiled, and as she smiled she leaned forwards, so that her head was resting on his chest as they swayed to the music. "I'm glad that it wasn't for me," she murmured. "Because I don't want you to change who you are for my sake, or even feel that you should." She paused a moment, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath her as she breathed. "But I am glad you did this."

XxXxX​

As the first dance began, Sunset and Rainbow Dash left Yang greeting the stragglers and wandered over to the punch bowl. Sunset picked up a cup, but hesitated. "Knowing how much Yang was involved in planning this dance, I'm not sure if I actually want to try the punch."

"I heard that!"

Rainbow was bolder, filling up her cup nearly to the brim. She sipped from it as the two of them watched the dancers on the floor. Pyrrha fitted into Jaune's arms as though they'd been made for one another, and they danced with a grace that was expected, in the case of Pyrrha, and surprising, in the case of Jaune. Penny, meanwhile, had lifted Ruby an inch off the ground and was turning in rough circles to the music, while Ruby looked to be getting a little dizzy.

Rainbow Dash raised her cup. "To Sapphire."

Sunset risked the unpredictable touch of Yang to fill a cup, and raise it. "To Rosepetal."

They knocked their paper cups together and drank.

"Not in a mood for dancing, either of you?" Professor Ozpin inquired politely, even as he stole up on them so stealthily that his question was the first sign that Sunset had of his presence.

Sunset turned to look up into the face lined with age. "The shepherdess can watch over her flock without doing... whatever it is that sheep do in the meadow. Or the paddock. Or wherever the shepherdess might happen to be watching them at the time." She blinked. "That metaphor was not one of my best for a small host of reasons."

Professor Ozpin chuckled. "Your commitment to your role is admirable, Miss Shimmer, but not entirely necessary. When can you let your hair down if not on a night like this?"

"Professor, I suspect you know full well that I was being facetious."

The headmaster's expression did not alter. "And I suspect you know full well that my point stands regardless. And you, Miss Dash; is something keeping you here, on the sidelines of the festivities?"

Rainbow Dash shrugged. "Believe me, sir, I've got no objection to a good party... but it needs to have the right people here, and they're not right now."

"But that is precisely why we have nights like these, to help forge new friendships, and strengthen the old ones so that they will last a lifetime," Professor Ozpin said. He looked away from Sunset and Rainbow, and out at the figures on the ballroom floor. In particular, his gaze seemed to linger upon Jaune and Pyrrha; they, of course, were too lost in one another to notice. "They make a handsome pair, don't they?"

"She's a beautiful young woman," Sunset replied. "He's... alright."

"Young," Professor Ozpin repeated. "Yes, you are all so young."

"Sir?" Rainbow asked.

Professor Ozpin's smile was melancholy, and rather lonely. "When I was young, each day seemed as long as a year, and summer seemed to be without an end; it seemed I could sit under the shade of the trees for as long as I wished, or squander the treasure of my time on... nothing. But night draws in, and Fall comes for us all; the leaves beneath which we sheltered descend... and they are ground to mulch beneath the march of time; even those from whom we once swore we would never be parted are taken from us, leaving only memories behind.

"No one has ever regretted that they had too many memories of the cherished companions of their youths, but there are many who regret that they have too few. I beg you both not to be among them."

Sunset and Rainbow exchanged a glance at one another.

"If I may rebut, Professor," Sunset said, "I don't deny your point, but there are a lot of ways to make memories. Sometimes by dancing, and sometimes…" – she raised her cup of punch – "by sharing a drink with a rival you respect."

Professor Ozpin's voice carried with it an undercurrent of amusement. "Well, Miss Shimmer, since you've been so good as to accept my point, how can I refuse to accept yours? I'll leave you to it."

They watched him walk away, to talk to Professor Goodwitch and the newly-arrived General Ironwood.

"Weird old guy sometimes, isn't he?" Rainbow asked.

"Oh, you have no idea," Sunset said. Even I don't have nearly as good an idea as I'd like.

Rainbow drank down the rest of her cup of punch. It left a bit of a red stain on her upper lip. "So, rivals, huh?"

"Yep," Sunset said. "If our teams don't meet in the Vytal tournament, I'll be very disappointed."

"You shouldn't be," Rainbow said. "'Cause if you and I find ourselves facing each other in the arena, it'll mean Pyrrha won't be getting into the singles round."

"Oho!" Sunset couldn't hold back a guffaw at the audacity of that remark. "And talk like that is why we're rivals, not friends." She took a sip from her cup. The punch was sharp on her tongue. "So, who are you going to put forward for the singles round?"

"Who do you think?" Rainbow replied. "I mean, obviously, I'd like it to be me. I'd like to stand alone in that arena with all my friends watching… but it's all about Penny. She's the reason we're here so…" Rainbow shrugged. "My dreams don't count next to that."

"You're the team leader; you can do whatever you like."

"Then why don't you put yourself forward to the singles round?" Rainbow asked. "Tell me you don't want to be in the spotlight as much as I do, and I'll call you a liar to your face."

Sunset smirked. "How do you know that I won't do that?"

"Because when I talked like it was going to be Pyrrha for sure, you didn't correct me," Rainbow said.

Sunset shrugged. "Yeah, sure I want it. I want them to see me, I want them to cheer for me, I want the whole thing. And maybe I could even win… or else my ego is just that big. As Pyrrha herself – unintentionally – pointed out to me, tournament fighting is a business, and the business is pleasing crowds; nobody's going to want to watch Sunset Shimmer kicking ass when the Invincible Girl of Mistral is stuck on the bench. That and, well… Lady Nikos has been very generous to me; it would be churlish on my part if I didn't give her the thing that she wants most in all the world: the chance to see her daughter become the champion of champions."

And besides, as she thought, but didn't see the need to add for the benefit of Rainbow Dash. A win for Pyrrha is a win for the team; all our names will get set down, even if it's only her head that wears the crown of victory.

And anyway, I'm definitely putting myself forward into the doubles.

"Hey, Sunset!"

Sunset turned around. Flash had hailed her as he walked into the ballroom, alone, waving one hand but then looking surprised when other people stopped what they were doing to look his way. He slouched down a little in the face of all the attention, walking more quickly over to where Sunset stood.

"Hey," he said again.

"Hey," Sunset replied.

Flash didn't say anything for a little while. He looked briefly away from her, thrust his hands into his pockets, and frowned. "Can we talk?" he asked. "Somewhere… private?"

Sunset glanced at Rainbow Dash, who shrugged. "We can go outside," Sunset suggested. "Or the balcony upstairs?"

"Yeah, the balcony sounds great," Flash said. He gestured out in front of him. "After you."

"Okay," Sunset said, with more curiosity than anything else, as she took the lead in climbing up the spiral staircase onto the second floor balcony. She turned, leaning back against the wooden railings as Flash followed her up and out into the night air.

It was only when he emerged into the moonlight that she noticed that he wasn't wearing a tie; his collar was undone, and he didn't have a waistcoat on either. Compared to most of the men here (okay, compared to all of the men here not called Sun), he looked a little underdressed.

"You look good," Flash said, nodding his head to indicate her pink-and-lavender gown.

"Are you okay?" Sunset asked. "You look a little…" – she waved her hand to take him in – "dishevelled."

"I've been for a walk."

"Did someone steal half your suit while you were walking?" Sunset asked.

"No, I didn't put it all on," Flash said. "Jaune gave me a lot to think about, and I had to… I'm sorry, Sunset."

Sunset's eyes narrowed. "What did Jaune say?" I swear, I'm going to-

"He wanted to know just what it was that I did to you," Flash said. "And what I was going to do to make it right."

Sunset stared at him in silence for a moment. She looked away out of sheer embarrassment. Jaune, come on, really? I know Pyrrha wants you to be her hero, but that doesn't mean that all the girls on your team feel the same way. Come on. "I'm sorry about that, Flash; I swear I didn't put him up to that. You'd think he'd know that I don't need a white knight to ride in and make everything better, but apparently-"

"Sunset, it's okay," Flash said, taking a step towards her. "I said I'm sorry, and I meant it. I… I didn't break up with you because you were a faunus; I just told you that because… because I thought that it was kinder than telling you the truth, which is that-"

"That you broke up with me because I was a terrible person?" Sunset murmured. She gripped the cold metal railings of the balcony tightly, and looked away, down towards the ground. "I know."

"You know?" Flash repeated.

"I think I've always known, deep down," Sunset whispered. "I almost asked you about it, after the Forever Fall field trip." After she had, for want of a better word, seen herself. Perhaps it was overstating the case to say that she had always known, but she had certainly had an inkling of it after that. Once you accepted the idea that you were or had been grievously flawed, it wasn't that hard to start to wonder if that was the reason the love of your life didn't want anything to do with you any more. She had almost gone to him, but… but fear had talked her out of it, fear and the fact that it had been easier to get swept away by her teammates and let it lie. Easier to believe the lie that Flash had told her and continue to think herself wronged and blameless as surely a lovestruck maid must be. "I don't know whether to tell you that you ought to have been honest with me or thank you for giving me an excuse to hide behind."

Flash frowned. "I… I never meant to hurt you."

Sunset closed her eyes; her whole body shuddered, and not from the cold. What do I say? What do you want me to say? Do I tell you not to worry about it? Tell you that Jaune was overreacting? Tell you that I forgive you?

Or do I tell you the truth?

Twilight, what do I do?

Sunset opened her eyes and looked at him. "You might not have wanted to hurt me, but… but you did. I…" her voice dropped to barely a whisper. "I loved you."

"I… I didn't realise," Flash said hoarsely. "I wasn't sure that you could still love, back then."

"I trusted you," Sunset said, her voice rising a little with an anger that she couldn't wholly suppress. "You were the only one I trusted, and you betrayed me."

"You needed more than I could give you," Flash said. "You needed… you needed what your team gives you. I… I don't apologise for what I did: breaking up with you. I couldn't… but I am sorry for the way I did it, for lying to you about it… and for what that did to you."

"You should be," Sunset said. "I'm not saying it would have much of a difference back then; I still would have been mad at you, but… maybe I wouldn't have found it so hard to trust anybody else afterwards. Maybe I would have been able to trust Jaune with Pyrrha without having to try and decide whether I needed to give one of my teammates the shovel-talk. Maybe I wouldn't have hated Rainbow Dash quite so much for being the good faunus." She frowned. "Or maybe it wouldn't have made any difference at all. Who can say?" She shook her head, sending her hair shaking back and forth. "It doesn't matter now. I have a great team, great friends-"

"You don't have a date," Flash pointed out.

Sunset snorted. "Neither do you, by the looks of things."

"No," Flash said. "You… seems like you're a tough act to follow, Sunset Shimmer."

Sunset's right eyebrow quirked upwards. "You mean Weiss Schnee wouldn't give you a second look. Don't act like you haven't been making moves because you're not over me or something, I know better. And I don't need your pity."

"I wasn't-"

"And don't lie to me, either; we've established it was a mistake the first time," Sunset said. She debated telling him that she'd asked Twilight, but that might sound fake or petty or both. And anyway, the fact that she got shot down wouldn't do a lot to improve her standing, all things considered. "So, what do we do now?"

"Well, there is a dance going on downstairs," Flash said.

"Really?" Sunset asked. "I don't think we're there any more, do you?"

"Maybe not," Flash said. "But… we didn't exactly leave it in a good place, and… we never got a last dance."

Sunset smiled. "A last dance."

Flash held out his hand. "Sunset Shimmer… would you care to come down to the dance with me?"

Sunset's smile got a little bit wider as she slipped her hand into his open palm. "I would be delighted."

And so they walked downstairs, hand in hand, like the prince and princess at the proverbial fairytale ball; all that it was missing was all the eyes in the room turning towards them in awe and fascination as they descended.

In actual fact, nobody gave them a second glance.

Not that Sunset cared. For once, this wasn't about how the rest of the world saw her, this wasn't about performing for the crowd, this wasn't about her image. This was about her, and Flash, and picking up where they left off long enough to give it the ending that they needed and deserved.

They slipped into a gap on the ballroom floor, and Sunset rested her arms over his shoulders and felt his hands around her waist and it felt so natural, so right that Sunset began to wonder if this was a bad idea; was it just going to leave her wanting more in the end?

And that's different from now… how, exactly?

"Is everything okay?" Flash asked.

"Yeah," Sunset said. "Everything's…perfect."

They began to sway in time to the music-

The music that abruptly cut out, to be replaced by what Sunset recognised after the first few bars as a Rainbooms number.

We've just got the day to get ready,

And there's only so much time to lose,​

"What?" Sunset asked, looking across the room at Rainbow Dash, who looked just as surprised as Sunset.

"What can I say?" Yang announced to the room at large. "It would be rude to have a lead guitarist in the room and not play any of their numbers."

'Cause tonight, yeah

We're here to party,

So let's think of something fun to do,​

Flash shrugged. "Nobody said our last dance had to be a waltz, right?"

Sunset grinned. "Let's do this."

Shake your tail,

'Cause we're here to have a party tonight,

Shake your tail,

Shake your tail!​

Sunset shook her tail and a whole lot more, her whole body shaking in rhythm to the music, her hands in the air; Flash was in front of her, and their bodies intertwined as they jerked to the music.

Shake your tail,

'Cause we're here to have a party tonight,

Shake your tail,

Shake your tail!​

Blake laughed at Sun as his tail performed ludicrously convoluted moves, tracing patterns in the air behind him. After a moment, she rejoined the dance, her face still flushed with mirth.

So what you didn't get it right the first time,

Laugh it off,

No one said it is a crime,

Do your thing,

You know you're an original,

You're ideas are so funny that it's criminal,

Ohhh-ahhh!​

Flash was looking into her eyes, smiling at her the way he used to, and for a moment, for a glorious, beautiful, wonderful moment as the music swelled and they moved in time to the beat, it was as if everything that had come between them had been washed away and all the wounds had been cleansed of bitterness and hurt. It was like they had been taken back in time, given a second chance to do it all over again… and do it right.

Shake your tail,

'Cause we're here to have a party tonight,

Shake your tail,

Shake your tail!​

Pyrrha and Jaune were moving in perfect sync with each other. Everyone was dancing by now; whether they had partners or not, they were all out on the floor; nobody was standing out that Sunset could see. Everyone was dancing, but as the music began to slow down, so too did Flash and Sunset. She put her arms around him and allowed him to pull her close.

"I have a confession to make," Sunset whispered into his ear, and for some reason, her eyes felt suddenly very moist and watery. "I don't think things are going to work out between us."

The Rainbooms' song ended; they swayed to the renewed sounds of a slow dance.

"I know what you mean," Flash said. "I wish I didn't, but I do. It's going to be hard finding anybody to top you."

"Liar," Sunset said. She hesitated, swallowing the lump that threatened to form in her throat. "Goodbye, Flash Sentry."

She closed her eyes as she felt him kiss her on the cheek.

XxXxX​

Dove couldn't meet Ciel's eye.

He was too… ashamed, yes, that was the word. He was too ashamed to look her in the eye.

They were… he had lost track of what dance it was; it was hard to tell, when the music was all blending together like this. Perhaps he just had no ear for this kind of… whatever the blend of sounds was that was mostly flowing from the mixture of the DJ and the string quartet.

He took some comfort from the fact that Ciel didn't really seem to appreciate it, although that hardly made him blameless in all of this.

He was sat, they were both sat – although he didn't expect that to last for much longer – at one of the round tables that dotted the outskirts of the ballroom. A plate of nibbles, some fancy and others less so, sat in front of him. Dove, heedless of the way the chicken wing was staining his fingers with fat or sauce or both, used it to push some of the other food around on his plate, like a child presented with a meal he does not care for.

Ciel drummed her gloved fingers upon the tabletop. He didn't look at her face, but the drumming she was making nevertheless told him a great deal about her expression.

"Mister Bronzewing," she declared, "I would apologise for my bluntness save that would involve apologising for a lesser offence than that which you have offered without reserve, but do you intend to ask me to dance again, or will you continue to ignore me as you have done for most of the night?"

Dove sighed and bowed his head. It was not good. He had tried, he really had, but… but when he had held her, when he had looked into her eyes, all that he could see staring back at him was Amber, her expression filled with reproach. It cut him to the quick; it froze his legs in trunks of stone. He… he could not do it. He could not turn his back on her.

He heard Ciel sniff, whether with distaste or upset. "I see," she said, her voice sharp and cold. "When you asked me to accompany you tonight, I took you for a gentleman; I see now that I was mistaken. If you will excuse me." He heard her start to rise.

"I'm sorry," he said, before he got too far away to hear him over the music. "I… I'm sorry," he repeated.

He looked up. Ciel had stopped. Her ballgown swirled around her, her petticoats rustling as she turned back towards him. "Are you?" she asked.

"I am," Dove declared. "I… I shouldn't have put you in this position, it was unfair. I should never have even asked you. If it helps, it isn't your fault."

Ciel raised her chin the better to look down on him. "I was never under the impression that the fault was mine," she declared proudly. "Although I am curious to hear you admit fault so readily."

Dove let the chicken wing fall from his fingers. Idly, he picked up a napkin and wiped his fingertips with it. "There was… there was a girl, back home," he confessed. "She lived… not far from my village. I met her in the woods one day, and she… and we… I loved her, or at least I thought I did."

Ciel's expression softened. She sat back down. "What became of her?"

Dove laughed bitterly. "I have absolutely no idea," he confessed. "I thought I'd find her here! She told me that she was coming here; she promised to wait for me, but… but here I am, and here she isn't. Maybe she's gone, maybe she'd think I'm a fool for acting like this, but… I just can't… I'm not ready to…"

Ciel placed a hand upon his shoulder. "Faith is nothing to be ashamed of, Mister Bronzewing-"

"Dove, please," Dove begged her. "Please, Miss Ciel, Mister Bronzewing makes me feel very old."

Ciel nodded, and it almost looked as though she smiled briefly. "Very well, Dove; faith is nothing to be ashamed of, no more than love. That you keep faith, even knowing that she may not, speaks well of your character. What does not speak so well is that you approached me regardless of these feelings and in doing so have, if you will permit me to say so, ruined my evening."

"I know," Dove admitted. "And I know that I can't make it up to you; I can only say that I'm sorry, and that I hope the rest of your night is better than what I've given you."

"That remains to be seen, but thank you for your sentiment and for your belated honesty," Ciel said. Once more, she got to her feet. "I hope… I will pray to the Lady that the winds of fortune bring this girl back to you, or at least bring you news of her."

"Really?" Dove asked. "That… that's very kind of you." His guilt was magnified by the fact that he had wronged a lady of such evident good quality.

Ciel did not seem to know how to acknowledge that, doing so only by a stiff nod as she walked away from his table, her gown trailing after her.

The empty seats at the table were soon filled, as he had thought – dreaded, somewhat – that they might be as Lyra and Bon Bon swooped down upon him like a pair of awkwardly affectionate vultures.

"What was that?" Bon Bon demanded.

"What was all of this, this whole night?" Lyra added. "No wonder she walked away; you've been terrible."

Dove glanced first at Bon Bon, and then at Lyra. "Have you been spending the whole night watching me?"

"Clearly, we should have done more," Bon Bon said. "Like give you an earpiece and fed you instructions."

"I know how to talk to girls," Dove insisted.

"Not on this evidence, you don't," Lyra muttered. "What happened? Where did all the charm go?"

"I'm not ready," Dove told them. "I just… I can't. Every time I looked at her… I saw Amber's face. I can't just betray her. And before you try and convince me that it's not a betrayal: it is. It feels like it to me."

Lyra sighed as she started rubbing his back. "Dove."

Bon Bon frowned. "Are you going to stay like this forever?"

"I don't know; who can say what the future holds?" Dove asked. "All I know is that I'm going to stay this way for now. I have to. I can't force myself to do anything else. And neither can you."

XxXxX​

Cinder was for other than for dancing measures.

Let others dance, the fools; let them revel, let them waste their time in such frivolity.

How she despised them all.

And yet… how she envied them, also. They did not know how swift the world could change, how easily joy could change to terrible sadness.

How easily the world that seemed to adore you could switch to hating you with a terrible cruelty.

Not even Sunset understood, though she might learn, in time.

To her sorrow.

She pitied them that they would all learn soon enough.

Cinder hated them, that they might dance and revel and fill the room with so much laughter, little dreaming of how cold and dark the world might be, uncaring of the unseen suffering of those who toiled in misery and despair.

She wished them the joy of their summer while it lasted.

But for herself, the world afford no such merriment. But she would use the joy of others to her best advantage. While the whole school danced and pranced within the ballroom, she would blind the eyes of the Emerald Tower and turn them to her mistress' purposes.

Her sable arms were as black as the night as she slipped behind the guard upon the tower door and broke his neck with a single blow. She dragged the body just out of sight and then slinked her way, hips swaying, into the tower.

She waited until her presence attracted the attention of the guards.

"Hello, boys," she purred, her blades of obsidian appearing in her hands. "Care to dance?"