We successfully found our people in the changing rooms, alive and untouched. Granted, they took our weapons, the white-haired little shit tried to hit on Velvet, but the room holding our guns is cracked along the way and that creep is now running around worrying about a White Fang airborne invasion. What's better? Captain Sloan tried to apprehend us again, on his own.

Now we have his ass tied to a changing room bench and his limbs tethered to separate bench legs.

The bad news is, we still have no fucking clue about where Qrow went, nor whether Tai even found him. Well, that's what we can try using Sloan for.

"Paddle him. He still has Aura, paddle him good then I can start asking him questions."

Roman is enjoying handling this interrogation as much as I expect him to. I look to him, then to the Thompson in my hands without its magazine, then to Sloan. I doubt the effect of this scare campaign, maybe because how much I feel like just wrecking Sloan and not bother about getting the answer anymore.

"Did I just say start asking him questions?" Roman poses to throw one of Sloan's tomahawks at him, "I mean start axing him questions. Fuck, you better start paddling him quick, but watch out if I throw it early."

Should I be impressed by how psychotic Roman can act like when he needs to, or be impressed by how good he can act the other way when he always need to?

"Traitors! Backstabbing villains!" Unfortunately, I can see no way Sloan is giving in anytime soon, "My lord Wolfsanchor will bring Amity to Mistral, the world will know what happened and remember your names!"

For one, I am actually okay with ceasing hostilities for the moment and figuring out what the fuck is going on by sharing our field intelligence. A lot of signs indicate we are just talking past each other…

"You craven child murderers! The Freikorps will take your skulls and stake them all across Remnant!"

That probably hits a bit too close to Roman. However, if it does get him worked up enough maybe he'll be more convincing… What the shit am I thinking, and why I'm actually enthusiastic about enhancing this dubiously legitimate interrogation? Does this make me some kind of sociopath just like Roman, on top of the fact that I'm already working with Roman?

Fuck.

"I'm out. Don't bother with throwing, just go ahead and axe him." Although I wash my hands from physically abusing him, bluffing harder by channeling Cinder is probably still fine by me, "If you break him…When we exchange prisoners, you know which one of the two we don't mind losing."

Roman shrugs, but didn't move. He's looking at one of the hatchets we took over from Sloan, reading its inscriptions and engravings with deep interest. Maybe he knows something about what he read, and how it's not matching up with what we saw, I can feel it from his expressions.

A commotion comes from outside our room; I can tell Neo is zipping out of the room to join the defense from the shattering glass sound behind me.

"Aaaaahem! Get the fuck out here, the party's starting!"

Is that Qrow?

"They don't know what happened. Not so loud, Qrow."

Tai's here. For no apparent reason I imagine Qrow just pepped up from a frathouse beer pong match and deciding to get the whole neighborhood over for some more liquor, while Tai is dead tired but can't stop himself from following. I didn't go to college, but I have been pestered by enough college students to know about it.

Oobleck budges the door open quietly and leans in to gesture us to have a look in the hallway, his face telling me I should be ashamed of making that irreverent mental picture. Was I laughing before he came in? Did his super speed make him able to hear me laugh?

Well… My mental picture is pretty accurate. Gone are Qrow's folding sword and dignifying seriousness, replaced by an expensive-looking bottle cradled in one hand. His other arm rests on Tai, who's doing his best to prop up himself. I can smell alcohol on them right where I stand.

Alongside them are two Mistral Freikorps officers: One should be the guy who uses the zulfikar sword, the other looks like he's hiding the same grizzled mercenary fashion as Qrow under poorly fitting black uniform. The stranger's face shares a similar stubble and condescending smug look, but his green-ish hair is longer and more wavy. Both of them are pretty relaxed.

"Nobody's missing? Let's get back to the lounge!" Qrow shouts, "It's finders keepers up there!"

Oh. Of course they went drinking in the VIP lounge. Of course that place doesn't have security cameras either.

"Who the f… Finnegan's Wake are these guys?" I ask Oobleck, "They got friends in the Mistral army?"

Oobleck doesn't have an answer right away, making me debate with myself whether I should have openly cursed at a teacher or used an euphemism that only one person on this planet knows what it references.

"Good evening, heroes of Vale!" The mistral version of Qrow greets us just in time, cheerfully, "Pardon me for the inconveniences this morning. I'm Francois Triton of the Mistral Frei…"

"Fillet Franc!" Qrow breaks him off mid sentence.

That kind of nickname isn't too endearing. Though, that might be my paranoia speaking… I sometimes doubt and hate a good number of people before I even want to talk to them, just to feel smarter. Okay, I know how much it sounds like letting matches burn my fingertip just to feel something, but anyway.

"Yes, in short it's Franc, major Fillet Franc! And this here is sergeant Yonah Davis, we two and Qrow go way back from his time before Signal. We are old running buddies – rolling buddies, in today's words!"

Davis salutes us stiffly, but Qrow smacks his hand down:

"Franc! Yonah! Let's go! I'm running fucking dry as we speak!"

That bottle does look it's approaching its bottom from the way Qrow shakes it… But then, it could also be that Qrow is too strong.

Suddenly, I hear guns cocking down the hallway. Four Mistral Hunters are standing there, two of them with guns pointing at us; one is the white-haired tryhard, the other is the big bastard who punched Oobleck into a wall. The latter's big-assed sword has a rifle of some kind built into it, what a cliche! There is also the commander I ran into in the duty-free shop, and the one with red gauntlets who… Is a lady who looks like a younger Glynda with loose hair? She looks even more professional for her age, more like a stern librarian than Glynda, even with the Freikorps uniform and armor.

"Stand down, kids!" Francois makes an exaggerated bow, "Let's all take it to the VIP lounge."

/

Team Dusk, officially spelled DASK. The freshman year star team of Haven that didn't make it to Vytal because they were on some mission in the east fringe of the country, and cwas replaced by CMSN. All its members earned commissioned officer status in the Mistral Freikorps, leading a battlegroup together. How does it matter to us right now? Well, it means major Fillet Franc can order them around to serve drinks in Amity's VIP audience lounge.

It's like back at those business events or social meetings for responsible grown-ups I went to when I was still working at the TV studio, though I don't need to manhandle a camera around the place anymore. I used to enjoy watching a room full of drunk people doing drunk people stuff, just for the heck of it, but the Hunters aren't getting drunk anytime soon before I doze off or do something randomly stupid.

The mood in the lounge is a little bit awkward, not because the day-long fighting we just had, but because not even Tai knows much about the friends Qrow has in Mistral. Though, maybe it's harder for them to reach out to us, since Yonah Davis isn't very sure how to break the ice either. The adults mostly just stand there and sip awkwardly, waiting for Qrow or Franc to say something.

Actually, the most pressing thing is... The VIP lounge isn't really inclusive on nonalcoholic drinks. I can only find some juices reserved for cocktail mixing, those weirdly named People Like (TM) brand sodas, and god fucking damn it – carbonated green tea. Why the fuck did someone have to invent this non-alcoholic bottled urine, why the double fuck I didn't read the label carefully!

The Haven girl who looks line younger Glynda and has the red gauntlets is staring at me behind the bar counter, as I try to not lose control of all my lower facial muscles from the carbonated taste. I think she's judging how I judge the drink. Her squadmates? I think they're following her gaze, taking a break from waiting the bar. The Mistral adults aren't watching them. Shit.

There's no going back for me in such a polite diplomatic occasion, the stakes are higher than ever; I don't want to literally go down in history as the one poor devil who pissed off the Mistral representatives and restarted the destruction of Amity, all over some bad tea-based soda.

I gulp it down and smile at her as casually as I can, then raise the bottle up to take a second swig. Hooray, sunk cost and complacency!

"Are you… Amber Clercwell?"

"It's D…" Not the right time for the whole Diesel thing. I cut myself off, "Yeah, I am."

"I'm Pyrrha's friend Antha Bauhin."

Okay, this is terrible news one way or another. Should I pretend I'm still parched, keep drinking to avoid talking to her? My free hand is already reaching forward to shake her hand before I could have a decision. Well fuck.

"It's a miracle you made it out! We were there to lift Pyrrha off the battlefield that day, she said she owes you a lot, Amber."

Now that confirms one theory about what happened after the invasion. How deep is the Freikorps into it, though? Hopefully Qrow and his buddies can sort some things out with the authorities in Mistral. Franc and Yonah are supposed to be working for Ozpin since quite a while ago, and the fact that Glynda seems to be on speaking terms with them backs it up a bit.

"She kept blaming herself for leaving you and Mr. Ozpin behind."

Pyrrha, you're truly worthy to become the forgotten superhero known as Apology Girl. I'm the one who should have kept blaming myself for failing to do fucking cock-and-bollocks for you and Ozpin. Though, Antha also feels like a nice person to be around from the first impression; I don't just mean she's the only Mistral soldier I saw who is not a creep, frat jerk, or hard boiled moron, I think she actually has a warm personality.

"You've been away from Mistral for a while, haven't you?" She asks, it's a question I don't really have an answer for. What she says next relieves me, "You haven't tried this tea when it first came out half a year ago? It's horrible, only got here because the company have some ties."

Obviously, she saw I can't deal with the thing at all. I nod, looking for a place on the bar to put the bottle down.

"Let's get it out of the way." Antha takes it over and pours it down the sink, "I just want to assure you, Pyrrha and her team are safely back in Mistral. The Freikorps have everything covered for our heroes."

Our heroes… Fine. Though, did she think Pyrrha and Cinder are on the same team? She must have lost the memo on a couple of things. Maybe being in the Freikorps put her out of the loop for a while too. Right now, I'll just drink to keep my own mouth shut before I can say anything wrong.

At least, right now the adults are properly talking to each other and the other Haven kids are getting busy serving. Glunda looks gravely concerned from something Francois showed her on his Scroll, but it's Glynda, what can I expect.

I grab a can of unopened People Like Apples. In the show its unearthly color can give Nehi or Faygo a run for their money, but I'll worry about chemical implications later. Just imagine it's Appletiser! Imagine it's Schwepps, god damn it!

"Hmm, that's my favorite too."

Antha offers to open the can with some fancy bartender instrument, but I pull it open and hand it to her first.

"Cheers to our hero Pyrrha."

I tell her as I open another can for myself.

/

The small VTOL with Amity markings slowly lifts off from the Mistral hangar as we wave goodbye. CFVY, Oobleck, Port and Neo are going back to Vale to report on what we found, and we're flying back with the stadium itself once we finish checking all its systems. Tai originally wanted to go back too so he can stay with his daughters, but Qrow said the Freikorps has some message from Ozpin to show him. They even lent us two of their pilots for the VTOL, which is smaller than a Bullhead, despite Tai said he can fly the thing on his own.

The only Mistral people in the hangar with us are Francois Triton and the kid who leads DASK, a pale and nerdy-looking guy with pitch black hair called Defisos Oufor. For the entire time he has been with us, since his team showing up at the lockers, I didn't hear him talk to anyone without being spoken to; it makes me wonder whether I imagined him gloating over the loudspeaker or giving the weird speech at the shopping area.

"Have some faith in who Ozpin gives his trust to, Glynda. Leonardo and the colonel are all determined to put Ozpin's interest before theirs, within a month, their men will be right on your call in Vale."

"It's hard to accept such a point of no return, Mr. Triton. This is not justifiable by any means in this war. There's two of your soldiers' lives on the line as we speak."

Their conversation is way more ominous than I can expect at this moment, halfway more than I can tolerate at this moment. What's going on? Even the small VTOL seems to be flying much slower than it should be.

"The Vale council was not wrong having you reaching out to Ironwood, but that was back when Ozpin held his chain. His electrical life forms, his Aura mechanisms? We both know what rules do they break."

Is Glynda some kind of double spy between Ozpin and the Vale councilmen?

"We agreed on giving you the android. Neither the council nor Ironwood would care once Amity is in Vale. They don't even know she's still here…"

We are handing Penny over to Mistral for extra protection? The situation is unfolding too quickly. Where's Roman? Where the fuck are you when I need to talk to a professional conspirator?

"Glynda, Atlas is not coming. How long can you wait for Ironwood to relieve the city, how many people are you ready to lose, before help finally comes? Ironwood does not listen to Vale without Ozpin."

Glynda is having a hard time to give him an answer. Morbid curiosity overtakes me completely. I want to make some sense out of it, I want to help in any possible way – but all my mind tells me is keep listening and standing there like a fully detached observer. Last time I felt like this, I was back in the coffin machine.

"The decisive matter is the deed, Professor."

Defisos suddenly opens up in an absurdly cheerful tone, but he is facing Qrow and Tai instead of Glynda.

I follow his sight. Qrow looks like he is holding Tai back from doing something he anticipates to happen, but both of them are too drunk for me to make sense of their pose. It's a miracle they are still standing – back at the bar, Qrow kept mixing the carbonated green tea with his whiskey and completely lost track of how much he drank, while Tai was the only one who did follow suit.

"Make the sacrifice, the same as Ozpin has done. Set down the bait for the long hunt, the same as he never has given up on." Jesus finger licking Christ, the guy does monologue, "Let us give meaning and worth to the inevitable. Only the deed marks our faith to mankind, to life."

Now this is so completely haywire ominous I can't think of any way it doesn't result in total disaster… I don't mean I will accept partial disaster just fine, but when did beggars become choosers?

"Is the bird where they can see it?"

"Yes, major."

"Do it." Francois tells Defisos and salutes the VTOL slowly getting away.

"For Vale and Mistral, for Ozpin and the sacred name Vasilias."

Defisos takes his Scroll out and speaks into it. What the hell could this speed-dial go to?

Creeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaak!

The sound of giant armored panels on Amity's outer wall opening is blown into the hangar by the night wind. The loudspeaker system turns on right above our heads:

"Automated defense system on line. Please take shelter according to instruction signs and avoid open spaces, exterior doors or windows in case of debris. Automated defense system on line…"

Oh.

Red lasers pierce the calm autumn night sky, sweeping across it, dividing the view from the hangar gate like bars on a prison cell door. Their common destination is the VTOL that just took off, a massive net of approaching doom flung towards one bird.

Let me do something, let me stop it, I will do whatever I must…

The lasers converge on the VTOL.

Is this how it ends for the well-loved second line side characters onboard? Scratch that, for the people I lived alongside, fought alongside for the past week? There should be something working as a plot shield. I am the only member of the audience standing here, I should have a right or something, shouldn't I? The story can't properly go into the fourth season without them being there, in theory Yang is waiting for that one visit by the teachers…

What the fuck am I thinking. Of course this is how it ends for them. Team Coffee, the two teachers who take whatever roles needed, and Neo, zapped in the back by a dozen or so lasers from people they trusted the most. There's only an explosion for me to remember them by, and for the people of Vale to vow revenge by. Chill out, myself.

...That's not hard when an extra instance has passed, I know. When I become a detached observer again, I'm amazed in a different way.

The conversation between them makes sense, logical to the degree not expected to have room for conventional human emotions.

Without Ozpin, underlings of his conspiracy need another excuse to show the public, for aligning themselves. Ironwood is no longer possible to provide any defense for Vale after the Penny incident and losing most of his forces, so Glynda has to ask Mistral to spare their Freikorps militia battlegroups. The cover story should say Mistral is grateful for heroes of Vale rescuing their troops who came on their own accord to evacuate innocent civilians and Pyrrha. Rescuing them from who?

Roman Torchwick, the White Fang and an unidentified groups of Mistral dissidents, all shared enemies of humanity taking refuge in Vale. Roman surviving the airship crash isn't expected, but Vale authorities probably already had some contact with Amity once Francois boarded, so they made up a plan in the time we refit the Vigilant Ghost.

What's wrong with the scheme I just realized? It's what all boils down to the cold, rational deeds, right?

The fireworks outside is already gone by now. I'd wonder if it was ever really a good spectacle to rally a furious population on, but I wonder about too many things. After all, Francois and Defisos said the bird went to where people can see it.

The bird is… Actually, still flying just fine?

It has turned around at some point, now it's coming towards the stadium in a zig zag pattern trying to avoid the next laser barrage. Why don't I accept… Accept what?

"Maintain fire!" Francois orders, "Be quick!"

Defisos is fumbling with his Scroll… There is definitely something wrong, and not just in my goddamned head. I don't dare to look at the other adults.

A shotgun frag round flies pass my face from behind me and explodes on the wall in my front. Roman, I don't blame you, but…

It's only his way to get my attention: Roman is pinned to the side of a VTOL and twitching furiously to struggle free, like a mouse on an adhesive trap, his torso tied down by invisible wires – the same fucking kind of gravity Dust glyph trap that got me when I first tried flying!

"Diesel, sic 'em! Get back at them!"

I'm still too detached to fully feel what Roman is feeling, but I greatly applaud the way he shows his trust in me: He launches the Thompson sub machine gun at me with the grappling hook on his cane.

Out of intuition, I caught the heavy Thompson-sized lump of a weapon in mid air. At the same time, the creepy white-haired Freikorps kid who tried dropping me pick-up lines appears from behind where Roman is pinned. I release the safety and aim at him, but he didn't flinch.

He walks up to Roman and started poking around with the spike bayonet on his rifle. It looks like a pile bunker with a revolver ammo cylinder, while the gun looks like a Calico rifle, both weird designs most fit for a weird edgy teenager.

"My lord, you are right about his treachery!"

He picks out Roman's Scroll from a jacket pocket, and waves it at Defisos. The team Dusk leader nods, then points at Roman like he pointed at me:

"Your secrets are mine now. The gods know your name."

Another volley of lasers sweep across the sky and converge on the VTOL again. Amazing, now I can be sure I wasn't fucking hallucinating them surviving the first one!

The lasers are actually converging on a spot a little bit of distance under its fuselage. They converge, then focus straight down in a combined but quickly dissipating distorted beam.

"Kill that cocksucker with the…!" Roman is forced to close his mouth as jagged ice spikes form all around him, all over him.

The white-haired Mistral kid pockets the Scroll then points his gun straight at me. Now I remember, his name is Lin Shicheng. Like in Chinese on Earth, Lin is the family name.

I ignore him, choosing to pepper Dephisos and Francois' general direction with full automatic fire. Although the laser cannons are automated, I suspect if the operator wants to target something other than Grimm, he still needs to manually select it. Besides, the bullets might give my allies a taste of reality they need so much.

Shit, I know how dark it sounds, but Glynda, Qrow and Tai are still spacing out. To their Aura, a .45 bullet should be just like a friendly kick, right?

The Freikorps officers duck away from my shots, they aren't armed, but Shicheng is. I don't mind tanking his fire with my Aura.

Bad idea. One bullet on my shoulder throws my aim off to the fucking ceiling, even though it didn't break my skin.

Shit, do military grade ammo hit harder? I don't look forward to find out, so I flare up my Fall power as a shield.

I keep shooting to suppress Franc and Defisos; the VTOL has come much closer to us. Now, I can see Neo dangling below it, latching onto a hologram version of Roman's grappling hook held by Velvet who's reeling it back, sitting on the landing rail.

Too handy for a laser trouble, Neo's Semblance!

Glynda throws Shicheng's rifle to a side using her telekinesis, no riding crop needed; the Freikorps guy runs after it in a comedic shuffle. Qrow and Tai are chasing after Francois, who is making a straight run to the door. Where's Defisos and his Scroll?

Schiiiiiiiiiiiickt!

The VTOL makes a very hard landing into the hangar. The Mistral pilots are not thrilled by the light show at all, just like us. It stops at literally close enough for me to see the white of everyone's eyes – except and Fox's because there is only the brown of his eyes instead.

Neo has bounced over to Roman already, she starts chiseling the ice on him off with the blade hidden in her umbrella.

"That way! Get the fake Schnee first!"

I rush toward the direction his face is pointing at. There, Lin Shicheng stands amount a mass of deactivated Atlesian Knight robots, looking highly annoyed at being called a fake Schnee.

"I hate to play the bad guy too! Especially when it's you on the other side of a gun. I don't have any luck with girls, right?"

He is scratching out some pattern on the floor with the rifle's bayonet. Defisos is somewhere behind him, lugging something around. The kneeling robots repainted in gray and blue make it hard to tell what they are doing.

"Hands up, both of you!" I shout, I've lost count of how many bullets I fired, better not find out too soon.

"You really didn't give me a choice!" Shicheng shouts back, "Couldn't we just meet over a drink later?"

Fox and Neo are by my side about to attack on my first shot. Are they? The sound of glass shattering makes me look at Neo, but she is still there, looking at me just as confused.

Then I notice pitch black straight lines crossing the floor, connecting one robot to another. They weren't that notable half a moment ago because… They weren't pulsating just then. Liquid, vibrant black pulsating on mechanical straight white lines. The black seep into every seam on every robot, but disappearing under the composite shell plates.

Defisos turns a switch on from where he is. The robots all light up, not making any moves, just waiting his orders. Then, Shicheng pounds on the floor hard with his rifle's bayonet.

One row by another, the robots stand up without any noise. Their head cameras are all pointing at us, actually, at me. The light of Grimm possession is clearly visible, one Geist delivered into at least dozens of robots.

"Advance, my Arma Festus!"

Defisos commands. For a world tormented by Grimms, Remnant likes its weaponized Grimm technology a bit too much, I must say.

The possessed robots move pass me, driving Roman and Neo further back. My estimation of there being dozens of them is too fucking low – more and more robots are activating inside the large airships. Some of them are holding guns designed for human use. There could be a couple of hundreds in total, this is all the fighting strength the Freikorps on Amity needs! To top it off, there's one entire Grimm connecting all of them.

Finally, I am cut off from all living souls again, surrounded by machines and spite. Too familiar for my comfort! I hear Glynda shouting some orders to everyone, but Coco's minigun is blazing away.

I move my left hand away from the gun and clench it into a fist. The Fall power form a spike of fire around it.

"Your Fall power is less than even a half of its full potential, and you are not nearly worthy to use it."

I shut the flames off and steady my aim again. Cinder? Who else talks like that. I know the hallucination I am used to doesn't sound like Cinder… Though, I do tend to think of Cinder, think like Cinder, when I need to use the power.

"You think you have power and control. You think you can do it without me?"

I know I waste too much time weirded out by the situation I got myself into to address it, but what can I do, before I even get a full picture of this fucking mess? For instance, why is Cinder talking inside my brain? Someone please just get me into a proper fight and stop all this thinking. Hello, violence?

"Poor Amber, you never figured out how to think. You can't fight either, so why don't let me help?"

Ironically, I still have time to work this mental struggle out first, the Grimm bots are ignoring me just fine at the moment. Fillet Franc wants me alive.

What causes hearing disembodied voices in the show, like with Oscar… Why can she see what I see but not the other way around? Oh fuck.

Did Cider just die and start to merge with my consciousness? There are too many things I can't risk her knowing.

"Worry about yourself! You should start begging me to save them right now."

I only take her first suggestion and evaluate my options. I want to save the Fall power for flying back to the team; an optimistic guess about my Thompson is at 10 rounds or so remaining in its drum magazine, without any spare ammo on me. I doubt if it's enough to take out a single robot, or if they would still ignore me if I run the hell away.

"Now you are thinking the right way. I found out on my own, when I was younger."

Have Salem sent Cinder to teach me the dark side's approach to difficulties in life?

Defisos appears again, as robots make a way between him and me. He has picked up some warhead from one of the parked airships, a rifle and a round shield – they look like heavier precursors of Pyrrha's weapons with duller color.

"You can say this is a test of character if you prefer." He says to me as he presses a button to turn his rifle into a sword, "But I'm interested in learning something too after all, I haven't talked to Pyrrha for some time."

The asshole is waving his sword to taunt me. I've figured out Defisos is not really working for Ozpin, so will Cinder decide to help him now? Although she didn't say anything, I can sense hate and rage building up that are not my own.

The gunfire behind me has died down but robots are still marching, pressing forward. At the same time, it's getting into a staring competition here, I can't really turn around to check how it went or make my way back…

The robots around Defisos aim their assault rifles at me.

"You do not look as scared as you should be." Now Cinder is mocking me too, "You know your friends are outnumbered. You think you're better without me?"

Actually… Cinder, it's you who asks to join my fight this hard. I don't run away scared, I just grin and bear it then try. If things really go terminally pear shaped… Long ago I have made the resolve for grabbing ankles sooner or later, just that it hasn't gotten that bad yet.

Defisos got close enough. I pull the trigger to use all the remaining bullets in the Thompson for a crude flashbang effect, then throw the empty gun at him with my Fall power.

Next, I start running, barging robots out of my way with my bare flaming hands. The machines feel even heavier than I expect.

Bang – krrrraaakt!

A shot from Defisos freezes the ground below me, encasing my legs in ice. I'm stuck in an awkward post-ironic action hero pose, usually seen in plastic figures that come with stage sets. I don't mind the cold, but his humor…

"You fool."

Cinder is itching for a fight. No, she thirsts for revenge. Not on me, instead on Defisos and the Mistral Freikorps.

"Take my hand!"

Yes.

Let's see how far we can go together.

The flames on my hands disappear suddenly. How? Why? I said yes, now what's fucking wrong with you? I'm in a tight pickle here, you know?

The robots just stand there and watch, as Defisos takes a phone call from someone I can't hear.

"Quiet!" Cinder's mental voice sounds like she didn't expect it to happen either. If I go down here, then the power might go to Pyrrha by the rule of thumb. No, she is just frustrated with getting into this fight, "Your Aura. It's not working the right way. I may need to access it."

It's not working the right way thanks to your big fucking arrow, remember? Just fix this technical difficulty for me, Cinder.

"We become vigilant ghosts, for we carry the truth of a scarred past. Souls freed from the gravity of weakness, may the darkness of our faith guide our hands to light!"

Author notes:

I didn't make it within a month, didn't beat last week's episode either... But anyway, 10 chapters! A milestone! I think now it deserves to be called a real story with its own things going on. Thanks for bearing with me! The next chapter might take some extra time to cook, since I also want to start a TV Tropes page.

Moonlight Shadow - named after the song, also Cinder's entrance in the first episode. Go try the song for yourself!

Fillet Franc - named after a random sketch drawing by a college buddy, Yonah Davis is a reference to Davy Jones which he also drew at one point. No relation to Scarlet David.

Carbonated green tea - 啤儿茶爽, a Chinese drink that has been an infamous meme. It's discontinued. People don't really mix it into whiskey, they use sweetened green tea in reality.

Antha Bauhin - named after the Bauhinia flower.

Defisos Oufor - named after the ancient greek word for thirsty, dephysios, or so I remember... Based on another buddy's Warhammer 40K character. Lin Shicheng and the other guy are carried over from non-RWBY stories of mine that didn't take off, both modeled after other friends.

The deal between Glynda and Francois - it's just Amber's guess, though not very far from reality.

Lasers - Neo deflected them with her light manipulation Semblance. She's on magical drugs.

Cinder - she's alive, what caused this situation between her and Amber will be addressed in later chapters.