I don't know what Hell looks like, but if I had to guess…

A gunshot echoed through the deserted streets.

It would probably look a lot like Mistral.

The security guard fell against the pavement, a fresh bullet hole in his forehead. The thug who shot him watched as blood pooled around the body, before he looked to his companion and said, "I told him I'd do it."

The other thug replied simply, "I'll get the lock. Watch my back," before he hopped onto the back of a nearby armored car, and stuck two thin metal strips into the lock on its back doors.

Mistral. One of the four kingdoms of Remnant. A kingdom of thieves, liars, and murderers.

It speaks volumes about the kind of place Mistral was when the biggest danger to public safety wasn't the Grimm.

As the second thug picked the lock, the first walked to their getaway car, and sat down on its hood. "You know," he began, "you new guys don't know this, but it used to be that all you had to do was say the boss's name around here and you could get almost anything. Nice, easy, and most important- clean. But all that changed when it showed up." The thug crossed his arms and glowered. "Then people started getting… ideas. Started thinkin' they could talk back to us. Boss said that if they give us lip, we gotta make an example of 'em. I mean, I don't wanna, but I'm not gonna argue with the boss…"

"You keeping watch, or are you too busy running your mouth?" the second thug asked. "I'm trying to concentrate here."

Criminals infested every corner of the capital, sucking it dry like a swarm of parasites. With half the force paid to look the other way, the police were completely powerless to stop them. The ruling council was just as useless, providing only promise upon empty promise, rather than any real solution. The other Kingdoms kept only the barest minimum of contact with Mistral, with only Atlas providing any real aid… if a few dozen android soldiers and their handlers could be called "aid."

The first thug glanced up and down the street nervously, before glancing back. "The hell's taking you so long?"

"Lock's trickier than I was expecting. It's nothing I can't handle, though."

"Well hurry the hell up. I don't wanna be here when the Bat decides to drop in."

The second thug stopped, and gave his partner a look. "…Are you kidding me? You're scared of the Bat?" He turned his attention back to the lock. "It's just a myth people made up to scare us. It won't work on me."

"A myth?" The first thug looked to his companion in disbelief. "Try telling that to Sparky. Bat broke his arm in three places. And he ain't the only one. Even the boss is worried about him…"

Even Mistral's Huntsman and Huntresses- sworn to protect the kingdom and its citizens- were nowhere to be found. It seemed they were content to sit back, and watch their homeland collapse under the weight of its own corruption.

There was a heavy thunk as the bolt holding the door shut slid open. "Finally. Hey, I got the lock. Help me pull this open."

Silence.

"…what the hell are you waiting for? Get over here and…"

The thug's voice trailed off as he looked back. His companion was gone, his gun resting on the pavement by the front of the car. The street was empty- the only sound was the hum the street lamps overhead, and his own breaths.

But even if those in power were unwilling to do anything, there was something in Mistral that was.

The thug drew his gun and turned away from the armored car. "…Brick?" he called. "If this is some kind of joke, it isn't funny."

More silence.

He approached the car, and picked up the other gun. At that moment, he heard a scuttling sound to his right. He spun, aiming both guns at the sound's source… but there was nothing there. "…hello?"

Something that couldn't be threatened into silence. Something whose loyalty couldn't be bought. Something driven by an all-consuming, single-minded purpose…

The streetlight above exploded, raining hot glass on the thug and plunging the section of street into darkness. The thug stumbled back with a startled cry, before he glanced around wildly, aiming his guns blindly into the darkness. It took several breaths before he was able to shout into the shadows, "Where the hell are you?"

Again, silence.

"Show yourself!"

A growl rang out from the darkness, before a monster made from his worst nightmares leapt at him with an ear-shattering shriek.

And I was one of the few lucky enough to meet him.


Nine hours later…

A warm black rain fell from black clouds onto a black city. Darkness clung to the city like a cloak, plunging it into a perpetual night that could only be banished by the combined might of thousands upon thousands of lamps. But of those light, one group shone more brightly than the others, a shining beacon that commanded one's attention should their eye happen to fall upon it- a grand structure, built to resemble a cathedral, set upon a plateau near the heart of this dark city.

A light, shining in the darkness. A light leading humanity towards a brighter, safer future. Or so people liked to say.

But such platitudes were far away from the students in one particular classroom nestled within the halls of this cathedral. For those who remained at least, their focus was turned towards one objective:

Survival.

Specifically, surviving the last few minutes of class as their professor- a smallish, bespectacled man with bright, shoulder-length red hair- droned on seemingly without end:

"…as gruesome as this procedure may seem now, it was deemed absolutely necessary to ensure the survival of Huntsmen and Huntresses in the past." The professor turned away from the complex diagram on the chalkboard, and stepped forward. "Now, as I mentioned, the implanting of a socket directly into the spine was the most crucial step of the procedure. Would any of you be willing to explain why?"

The professor scanned the room, looking for any raised hands. He didn't find any- what he did find was a young man in a garish orange beanie resting his head on his arms, seemingly asleep. "Anyone at all?" he asked as he reached back, grabbing an eraser resting on the desk behind him. "How about… you!" With the last word, he threw the eraser at the sleeping boy.

But to the professor's surprise, the boy raised up a hand, and caught the projectile. He then raised his head and looked at the professor with a tired expression. "Yes, Professor Carmine?"

The redheaded professor quickly suppressed his surprise, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked up at the boy. "I see that you've decided to join us, Mr. Rydinger. Now, perhaps you would like to answer my question."

The boy squinted at the chalkboard behind the redheaded professor, before he replied, "Yes, Professor," and stood. "The spinal socket was necessary in order to measure a person's aura. Until recently, technology wasn't able to detect a person's aura while it was outside their body. So, the socket had to be implanted directly into the spine, where aura concentration inside the body is highest." The boy took a breath. "From there, a specialized gauge could be plugged into the socket with a wire, creating a visual representation of the strength of a person's aura. Newer aura gauges don't need any invasive procedures, but they do need direct contact with skin to work properly."

Carmine could only stare in a stunned silence, before he cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses. "…It seems I owe you an apology, Mr. Rydinger- perhaps it is possible for a student to learn in their sleep. You may be seated."

Almost the second the boy's rear touched his seat, the class bell rang.

Instantly, the classroom was filled with the clamor of students gathering their belongings. But Carmine interrupted them: "One moment, please. As many of you are no doubt aware, the new shipment of aura meters will be arriving in a few weeks. However, that does not give you free reign to neglect your current equipment." He leaned toward the class, pointing an accusing finger at them all. "Random inspections will still be held, so take care of your gear." The professor straightened up. "Dismissed."

In a matter of moments, the students surged into the hallway outside the class. The boy with the orange beanie was among them- but where the rest of the students turned right upon entering the hall, he alone turned left. He glanced toward the crowd for a moment, before taking a few steps away from them…

But he froze up when he felt a hand wrap around his wrist. "Gotcha," he heard a girl's voice say.

He glanced back again- sure enough, a blue-eyed girl had grabbed his wrist. Like him, she wore the slate gray uniform that was standard to all students, though with a grey-and-black plaid skirt rather than slacks. Her hair was short and black, save for a single blonde-tipped bang that reached to just under her left eye. The boy retreated from her, ever so slightly, but not because she was a stranger to him. Far from it, in fact- they'd seen one another every single day since initiation.

"So…" the girl began, "…where were you going?"

The boy stammered, his face reddening. "Uh… I was… gonna get lunch."

The girl narrowed her eyes at him, never letting go of his wrist. "If you're gonna lie, then you should try to be more convincing, Traviss. You and I both know the cafeteria is the other way. Now come on."

Before he could protest, the girl pulled Traviss in the direction opposite from where he was headed. He stumbled, almost falling flat on his face, but he managed to keep his balance. It took several moments before he worked up the nerve to ask her, "C-Callie… do I… really have to do this?"

"We're already halfway through the semester, Traviss. If we're gonna be working as a team, we need to get to know each other better." She glanced back. "You can't keep avoiding us forever."

He couldn't work up the nerve to look at her. "We've been doing just fine so far, haven't we?"

"That's just because we haven't been tested," Callie replied curtly. "When the chips are down, I need to know that I can trust you."

For a moment, Traviss opened his mouth to respond, before closing it. Callie had a point. So, he allowed himself to be dragged through the halls of the academy, trying to ignore the curious stares and whispers of the other students.

Haven,

Kingdom of Mistral

Thirty years before enrollment of Ruby Rose into Beacon

Each of Remnant's four kingdoms is home to a grand Academy, dedicated to the training of future generations of Huntsmen and Huntresses. And Haven was Mistral's academy. Our home. Our sanctuary.

The name wasn't a coincidence. With Atlesian soldiers patrolling the grounds at all hours of the day and night, Haven was one of the few places in the entire capital (and maybe even the whole kingdom) that could truly be called "safe."

Traviss could smell the cafeteria long before entering it. But along with the numerous inviting aromas, he could hear a tremendous clamor. And sure enough, as Callie pulled him through a set of massive double doors, he saw that the cafeteria was already packed with people. Traviss retreated behind Callie ever so slightly- he was never very fond of crowds.

Callie took no notice. "Now where are they…?" she asked as her eyes swept over the hall, asking herself just how a girl with white hair could blend into a crowd as well as her teammate did.

Unbeknownst to Callie, Traviss scanned the hall as well, locating her targets with ease. He tapped her shoulder to get her attention, before pointing. "…over there."

Off to the left, Callie saw a two girls, seated side-by-side at a table: one with long, pure white hair, and a brunette wearing a pair of large, opaque goggles over her forehead.

The white-haired girl was named Yuki, and the brunette, Olivia. They formed the other half of Callie and Traviss's team.

Callie raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You've got a good eye, Traviss." She began to walk to the two girls, her hand still gripping Traviss's wrist firmly. "And this is exactly what I was talking about- if we don't know each other's strengths and weaknesses, how are we supposed to cover each other in battle?"

"Isn't that what combat class is for?" Traviss asked in reply.

"It's hard to observe someone when someone else is trying to smash your skull in."

Traviss opened his mouth for a moment, but thought better of his response and closed it again.

Yuki was the first to acknowledge the pair as they sat down across from her and Olivia, looking up from a small notebook she was writing in. "Oh my… who's that handsome young man?" she teased. "Callie, you never told us you were seeing someone." Traviss's face instantly flushed a bright red, and he tried to deny the compliment. What emerged from his mouth, however, was little more than a string of stammered non-words.

Callie narrowed her eyes, otherwise maintaining her composure. "Very funny, Yuki. But you know exactly who this is."

"So you actually reeled him in…" Olivia said. "I have to admit- I didn't think you'd manage it. Even if you are our leader." She slid a tray laden with food over to Callie, before turning her attention back to her own food.

There was no fourth tray- obviously, the other half of the team hadn't been expecting their last member to join them. Traviss slowly began to stand. "Uh… if you… don't mind, I'm gonna… grab some food. Okay?"

But Callie's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, before she pulled him back into his seat. "Oh no you don't. You sit back down and stay right where I can see you."

"How am I supposed to get any lunch, then…?" he asked sullenly. He looked sadly at the table, when his attention was drawn to something sitting on Olivia's tray- a ripe orange, whole and unspoiled. He stared at it for a moment, before looking to Olivia expectantly.

Several moments passed before she realized he was staring at her. "Uh… is something wrong, Traviss?"

He slowly raised his hand and pointed at the orange. "…can I have that?"

"Huh?" She looked down at her tray. "Oh! Uh, sure."

Without taking her eyes off her notebook, Yuki picked up her own orange and handed it to Traviss. "You can have mine, too, Traviss- I'm not really a fan of citrus." She looked up- Traviss had wasted no time in snatching up Olivia's orange and was already in the midst of ravenously devouring it. He stared at her, wide-eyed, before gave a sheepish smile and a nervous laugh.

Yuki sighed. "…just mind your manners, Traviss."

Although such a scene was typical for the vast majority of students at Haven, this was one of the precious few instances where all four members of Team CYOT (pronounced "Coyote") could be found together, outside of classes or their quarters at least.

"By the way," Olivia began, "I grabbed this for you." The brunette pulled a newspaper from her pack and held it out to Callie.

"Thanks!" The black-haired girl snatched the paper out of her teammate's hand and began leafing through it at a frantic pace.

Traviss looked to his leader. "What're you looking for, Callie?"

"Just a second…" She stopped on one particular page, and began to smile. "Aha, there you are!" She then frowned. "Aw… there's no picture this time."

He tried to lean in, to see what she was looking at. "Picture? Of what?"

"Right here, look." She turned the paper towards him and pointed to a column titled: "Armored Car Robbery Foiled- Bat Believed Responsible."

Traviss read the title. The first half seemed innocuous enough, but the second half was what caught his attention- one single word in particular. He raised an eyebrow. "'Bat?' What's that supposed to be?"

Callie set the paper aside and looked at Traviss incredulously. "You're kidding, right? You've lived here in Mistral your whole life, and you're telling me you've never heard of the Bat?"

Yuki looked up from her notebook. "Oh come on, Callie, ease up. Just because you're completely obsessed with the Bat, it doesn't mean everyone is."

"I'm not obsessed!" the black-haired girl replied indignantly.

Yuki turned back to her notebook. "Oh, so that board above your desk with all those newspaper articles about the Bat pinned to it was just my imagination, then."

Callie slammed her palms on the table and stood, her face twisted into an angered expression. She opened her mouth to let out some fierce barbs…

"I-I-I'm sorry," Traviss suddenly stammered, sinking low into his seat. "I-If it's something that upsets you, then I… I won't bring it up again."

Callie looked to her partner., her anger ebbing away instantaneously. "What- No, Traviss, this isn't…" She quickly sat down, opening the newspaper again. "H-Here, let me just read this for you. Maybe it'll help you get an idea of what the Bat's all about." Callie then began to read aloud:

"Early this morning, two men were arrested after attempting to rob an armored car in Mistral's Lakeside district. The suspects shot and killed both the car's driver and guard, and were attempting to pick the lock on the rear doors when they are believed to have been assaulted and knocked unconscious by a third party. Although no witnesses were present, due to the trauma the two suspects suffered, it is believed they were confronted by the vigilante known throughout Mistral as 'the Bat.'"

Callie continued: "MPD Chief of Police Mars Petrakov, who was on the scene earlier this morning, declined to comment when asked by reporters if it was possible that the Bat had subdued the suspects. In spite of increasing numbers of reported sightings over the past several years, Chief Petrakov continues to deny the existence of the Bat, stating firmly in a recent press conference, 'There is no such thing as a Bat-Man.'"

Callie looked up from the paper- the rest of her team sat in silent contemplation, absorbing the information she'd shared. After a few moments, Traviss finally asked, "So… what is it? This 'Bat,' I mean?"

"That's the million-lien question," Callie replied as she folded up her newspaper. "The Bat's been around for years- if you believe some of the rumors, he's been in Mistral for about a decade now. But in all that time, no one's been able to figure out just who, or what he is."

"Was he the reason all those Huntsman got called into Mistral a few years ago?" Olivia asked. "They said some kind of monster was attacking people in the middle of the night."

Callie nodded. "That's right. The Academy thought it was a new type of Grimm and called in Huntsmen to track it down- they even gave the new species a name: Chiropteran. But after a while, people started to notice something: the thing they were chasing beat people up really bad- you know, broken bones, ruptured organs, a few even ended up in comas… but he never killed anyone. At least, no one could prove he killed anyone. So, the Academy figured it wasn't a Grimm, called off the Huntsmen, and let the police take over."

Yuki brought a hand to her chin, thinking "So, if the Bat isn't a Grimm… what is he?" she asked. "Someone wearing a costume?"

"I've got pictures- the quality's isn't too good, but it looks a little too elaborate to just be a costume," Callie replied.

"The Bat could be some kind of faunus…" Olivia suggested.

"No way! When's the last time you've heard of a faunus that can fly? Besides, if you'd ever seen a picture of him, you'd know he isn't just a faunus." Callie looked over to her partner. "What about you, Traviss? What do you think he might be?"

Traviss jumped slightly, not expecting to be pulled back into the conversation. But then, he looked away, resting his arms on the table. "No idea. But whatever it is, that Bat sounds like a real whackjob."

Callie shot a glare at Traviss. "How can you say something like that?"

"Oh, here we go…" Yuki murmured, closing her eyes and resting her hand on her forehead. This wasn't the first time she'd heard this rant.

"The Bat has done more good in the few years he's been around than the MPD has since they were founded! Hell, he's better at protecting people than Mistral's Huntsmen- you know, the people who swore an oath to protect the Kingdom and its citizens?"

"If you don't think the Huntsmen out there right now are doing a good job, then once you graduate, you're welcome to go out there and do a better one." Traviss glanced at his partner. "Besides, Huntsmen are supposed to fight the Grimm- sending them in to take care of some purse-snatchers seems like overkill, don't you think?"

"That's not the point! A Huntsman's job is to protect people from all threats, not just the Grimm. And I don't know about you, but crime bosses like Nero Volpe seem like a pretty serious threat to me."

Traviss stood up. "Hey, if that thing wants to wage a one-man war on crime by himself, let him. Just don't be too surprised when he eventually loses."

Callie's mouth moved for several moments as she tried- and failed- to find a response. She'd come across more than a few people who disagreed with her views on the Bat and his impact on Mistral, but no one had ever managed to infuriate her as much- or as quickly- as her teammate. Though it wasn't accurate to say that he infuriated her, as much as his apathy infuriated her.

And that was Mistral's biggest problem, she thought. Apathy. Thinking that- no matter what anyone did- nothing would change for the better, that it was a waste of effort to even try, that the most one could hope to do was try to keep things from getting worse. And if that were true, then why have Huntsmen? If things truly never would improve, then why didn't humanity just lay down and let themselves be eaten by the Grimm?

Callie shook her head- she was letting herself drift off-topic. But before she could formulate a reply, a shrill bell rang out over the cafeteria, signalling the end of their lunch period. She glanced over to its source briefly.

"…Don't think you're off the hook just yet, Traviss," Callie growled as she looked back to her teammate. "After class, you and I are-"

Traviss was gone.

Callie looked around, but a bright orange beanie was nowhere to be found in the surrounding crowd. She then looked to her teammates. "Where'd he go?"

"I…" Olivia began, before hanging her head in shame. "…I don't know. I got distracted by the bell, so I didn't see."

"Yuki?"

"Working," she replied flatly, her attention once again focused firmly on the small notebook she always seemed to be writing in.

Callie scanned the crowd one last time, letting out a long breath. "…I hate it when he does that."

CPHR

(Pronounced "Cipher")