The Swarm

Chapter 1: Hivemind

In the seedy underbelly of Vale, the two most valuable things you could possess were information, and fear. The Hive, a widely spread network of fences and criminals, had both in abundance. Everybody knew about the Hive. The White Fang, hunters and huntresses, the SDC, everyone. Only problem was, you never knew who was a Hive member unless the Hive wanted you to know. Sure, since information was their thing, they had a couple of brokers here and there that people could go to. But that was about as much about the Hive that anybody knew.

Everyone also knew who led the mysterious organization, but nobody knew him. The person pulling the strings behind this little operation, also known as the Hivemind, was always just a dark figure with terrifying status. At this moment, the Hivemind was sitting in a well-loved leather rolling chair with his feet propped up in the back office of an abandoned apartment complex the Hive had set up as an information provider. The boss man liked to get personal with his business sometimes.

While the late evening sun slanted in through the shaded window in the back, the creaky wooden door swung open slowly as a well-built boy of about 17, wearing a simple hoodie and jeans with a mace strapped to his back, entered the room and shut the door behind him. The boy in charge peered at the new arrival through orange aviators.

"Ah, Cardin, what do you have for me today?" The infamous head of the hive asked.

"I have some good news, X. I've been accepted to Beacon academy," replied Cardin.

"Excellent, I've always wanted someone on the inside. Ozpin has always piqued my interest, and I'd like to know if Beacon is a potential ally or a potential threat," the Hivemind, now known simply as X, paused a moment as if in thought, "however, I believe I gave you some business to take care of. Might you tell me how it went?"

Cardin nodded, and with a proud look on his face responded, "All records of your time at Sentra have been completely wiped from Vale's travel database, and here is a the only remaining paper copy." Cardin proceeded to lay a moderately thick folder on X's desk.

"Wonderful, now I trust you didn't look through it, did you?"

"Of course not, sir."

"Perfect. I reward a job well done." X slipped his feet off the desk they were perched on and leaned over to open the drawer at the bottom. X pulled a small slip of paper and a hexagonal disc with the Hive insignia on it out of the drawer and set it on the desk. He'd long since known about the data wipe on Vale's database, about Cardin's completely obedient trip without so much as a peek at the folder, and even about his recent acceptance to Beacon. His extensive information network made sure of that.

"Here are directions to a weaponsmith that is a close acquaintance of mine. Just show him this little disc and tell him that you want the silver special. I took the liberty of getting you a special suit of armor for your time at Beacon. Keep up the good work."

Cardin looked at the disc in his hands, the insignia bearing a single dot in the center and three spiked wings on both sides sprouting up, out, and down. It was a simple silver impression, but to him, it meant the world. As far as he knew, X hardly ever was this generous.

Cardin looked at the Hivemind speechless. "Th-thank you sir. I'll be sure to put it to good use." With that, he saluted X and left. X chuckled to himself quietly while he picked up the folder still on his desk. He liked Cardin well enough. Loyal, close-minded, and tough. He was creative enough in a fight, excellent at doing dirty work, and had no objections to whatever was asked of him.

Sure he could do without his "I'm better than you, you piece of scum" attitude when it came to how he treated faunus, seeing as how X viewed people without racial bigotry. To him, all people were equally worthless. No matter though, Cardin was a trustworthy underling, and X very much loved having those. It made his job that much more enjoyable.

He cracked open the folder in his hands to see just what the Vale travel department could dig up on him. For the most part, it was a standard travel record complete with passport, fake ID and background, and idiotic ramblings about potential bomb threats or something like that. He looked at the picture he'd been forced to take, paperclipped to the folder, and the description the Vale Security Agency had on him.

'Greg Casey. Height:6'1" Weight: 165 lbs. Race: Human Skin Color: White E/C:Gray

Occupation: PGL Front line coach.

Appearance: From top down. Short spiked steel-gray hair with an orange stripe on the left side.

Orange aviators.

Gray sleeveless hoodie, loose orange long-sleeve underneath. Jacket has a large orange insignia on the back. Arranged as one center dot with three spiked wings on either side going up, out, and down.

Gray jeans, orange belt, orange sash hanging from belt on left side. Reaches just above the knee.

Orange Nikos Sprints with gray shoelaces.'

True enough, that's what he looked like, when not in business attire. A simple gray suit and orange tie sufficed for that. No one really remembered what he looked like, even when he went out in public, and he liked to keep it that way. Nobody knew who the Hivemind really was, or what he looked like, save for the closest of friends, not that he had any of those. Heck, when ever Cardin came to report X made sure the lighting was designed to hide his face, and he only allowed Cardin to call him X. That's the closest anyone's ever gotten to knowing his true name.

The door swung open one more time to reveal a new customer. X's pearly whites were the only thing visible in the office's dim lighting as he spoke in a welcoming voice, "How can I help you?"

Wide gray eyes opened in a silent flash. X didn't bother to check the alarm clock next to him, which never had an alarm set anyway. He always woke up at 7:18 sharp, no matter how late or how early he would go to bed.

X stretched himself out and got up, wearing his usual sleeping attire of t-shirt and shorts. It had been an interesting night last night, and he had some things to take care of. Someone had come in asking about her. "I'll be damned if she shows up again." He thought he'd tied off all his loose ends when she came through, demanding the Hive to make her disappear.

Raven. That was her name. Raven Branwen. She both inspired uncontrollable fear and unquenchable headaches. X had a similar hatred for both things. When the girl had come through last night, he had thought nothing of her. Buxom blonde, very lithe and athletic. Cute little outfit too, it complemented her natural beauty. When she'd been asked what the price of her information would be, X had only asked for her name, number, and a little bit of useless gossip, all three of which he had on a single sheet of paper at his desk in Tarlston, the Hive-run 5-star hotel he had stayed in last night.

Oh how he wished he had asked for more.

The Previous Night

"How can I help you?"

"There is someone I'm looking for, or at least looking to know more about. What's the charge for that?"

X gave the new girl a once over. He hadn't ever seen mention of a girl like this, or he definitely would have remembered. Girl was a looker, and seemed about his age too. Blonde, tall, athletic, she had it all. He decided to make it easy on the girl.

"Just your name and number, sweetheart, and a maybe a rumor or two you've heard around town," X said as he slid a piece of paper across his desk with a pen.

The girl tried to make out X's face in the fading light of evening, something that was difficult to do in the small, drab room even during full daylight. With the sinking sun and shuttered window, it was nigh impossible.

"Yang, 535-684-2512, and rumor has it that Roman Torchwick has joined forces with the White Fang. Other than that he's robbed every dust shop this side of Atlas blind." She said it all while writing it down at the same time.

X raised his eyebrow a bit in surprise. When he'd asked for a rumor he hadn't expected her to know about Roman. Even though he had already known of Roman's exploits for quite some time, the fact that someone outside of the Hive, White Fang, Torchwick himself, or Beacon knew about it was impressive. If he got the chance, he might try to hire her.

"Interesting. Who are you looking for? I'm sure our databases will be more than adequate for you. We've got just about everything there is to know in Remnant, including the people who live in it."

Yang let out a sigh of relief, but nonetheless braced herself for something. Disappointment, maybe? She took a deep breath before asking, "Have you seen this woman anywhere? Do you know anything about her?" Yang had pulled out her scroll and slid a picture of a woman with long black hair and black and red clothing across the desk. She wore a strange full face mask.

As soon as X saw the picture, his heart skipped a beat. While he gave no indication of turmoil on the outside, inside his stomach was flipping and his mind was going into overdrive. Who could know about her? His execution of her disappearance had been flawless. He had covered all his and her tracks perfectly.

X pretended to check his own scroll for information before putting it down and sliding Yang's back to her. He put on his best sad voice, "Strange, it appears that we have no knowledge pertaining to this woman. Please do come back to tell if you learn anything about her. We would very much like to know."

Yang nodded once, seeming a little crestfallen but understanding. She must have heard that line several times before coming to the Hive. She turned to go but before she left she said, "I was a little worried that you'd be evil or something, but it turns out you aren't such a bad guy."

X was genuinely taken aback, though Yang couldn't tell. "And what makes you say that, pray tell?" X couldn't help but feel proud at how he'd kept any inflection from entering his voice. It's not often he was surprised given his line of worth.

"The last time I asked that question, it ended up with the guy attacking me. Let's just say he's going to pay a little bit more for his fire insurance than he did before." With that, she left.

X stared at the door she had just exited. He laughed with a dry humor. "Why does this have to happen to me?"

Lunch

X was not someone who enjoyed being kept waiting. Couple that with a certain Roman Torchwick's tendency to show up an hour late to things he actually thought were important, and you got yourself a very pissed off X. He was sitting in his favorite café, The Mug Shot, and had already downed his fifth Earl Gray, planned three robberies, and was seriously considering putting a hit on the Roman when the party in question finally showed up.

Already noting the three White Fang guards situated on the rooftop to his north-east, X waved Roman over. As Roman took a seat, X got right down to business, "I called this meeting about an hour and thirty minutes ago, and next time I call you as soon as I wake up, I expect you to be here on time. Clear?"

"Yes, yes of course, of illustrious one. My, you've grown impatient in all this time. No matter, what seems to be the problem? White Fang snooping a little too close for your liking? I'll take care of it in due time," Roman snarkily responded.

"It's a Code R."

Roman paused for a moment and gave X a look of disbelief, "Excuse me? You do just realize you said a Code R?"

X smacked to table looking annoyed, drawing some irate glances from other customers, "Yes Roman, a Code R. What do you take me for? An idiot? Because I'm pretty sure you said no one would ever come looking for her. And guess what? Just yesterday, someone came looking for her!"

X had been growing increasingly upset throughout his monologue, and it showed as he leaned close enough to Roman for the older man to see X's eyes over his aviators, which were filled with murderous intent.

"Yes of course, a Code R wonderful. Now, before you completely annihilate your favorite dive in Vale, hear me out. One, there's nothing I can do about it. You didn't exactly prepare for her to ever show up again, and you haven't even told me if that damned woman has made an appearance. For all we know she's long gone and we'll never see her again, nor will the person who asked about her. Second, the White Fang and I have a certain, ah, agenda to accomplish, so I can't help you."

X sank back in barely contained frustration, but he realized that Roman was right, for the most part. He could however, make X's life as easy as possible.

"Actually, you can help me." Roman blinked and eyed him balefully. X slid the piece of paper he'd got last night across the table to Roman, who picked it up and read it over. "Find out everything you can about this girl, who she is, where she's from, her past, relatives, the works. You know how to do it."

Roman looked up at him and smirked, "And what if I say no?"

X pulled down his aviators enough to show his eyes, filled with bloodlust, to Roman. "It'll be the last mistake you ever make."