Oh? You're back? I'm shocked. Really, truly shocked.

Enough with the sarcasm, Shade. I don't like talking to you either.

And yet you're still doing this.

I have my reasons.

Oh?

No, I won't tell you.

Ah. Oh well. Maybe you will someday.

I doubt that.

So! Onto the matter at hand, what shall we discuss first today, hmm?

Are you actually asking, or just being dramatic?

Nyahaha! Well, how about we talk about you giving weapon designs to your pet blacksmith, huh? My people were shocked to see your pawns with old Emerald's weapons.

I didn't give him those designs. I don't know how he learned about them.

Oh?

For all I know, they were on his PIP-Boy. It is Pre-War technology, after all, and may have belonged to someone who studied that period of time.

Somehow I doubt that.

What reason would I have to lie?

That depends on why you're making me tell you this story.

If you don't want to, I can leave. I'm sure you'd be happy to be alone for another few weeks before I come back.

Festering bitch.

XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX

Rhonwen sighed in relief as she stepped out from Summer's car, her face pale and sweaty. "Thank fuck that's over," the Schnee groaned, basking in the cool breeze that so often flowed through Yang's Rest. Though it had taken them a full three days, instead of the two it took to get to Camp Epsilon, the four had returned to their home and parked just outside of Summer's workshop. "I really hope I never have to get in this thing ever again, Summer."

"Just because you get motion sick doesn't mean you have to bash on my car," Summer replied, a very small smile on her lips. She lifted her sleeping girlfriend's head from her lap as she got out from the backseat, gently setting her back down on the seat.

"Oh, that reminds me," Volka said, tossing the key to Summer as she also got out. "You owe Asra a massage, don't you?"

Summer grimaced exaggeratedly, a blush forming on her cheeks. "That's not fair," she mumbled, turning away from the blonde. "We barely got a chance to spar after making that bet."

"Well, it is technically your fault," Volka pointed out.

"How is it my fault that you ran over a cactus?" Summer asked, scowling at Volka, who was now whistling innocently. "Seriously, how did you not see that cactus? It's just a tree that tries to kill you!"

"I might be partially responsible," Rhonwen said, raising her hand slowly. "I may have been... doing something you don't approve of, while you and Asra were asleep."

"It was really distracting," Volka said, grinning at Summer's blush. "And I don't even swing that way."

"Thank you," Rhonwen said, smirking. "I always appreciate a compliment like that."

"And cacti are really useful, Summer," Volka added, confusing the young Faunus with the abrupt change of subject. "They can store up a lot of water, and some of them even grow fruit. They're lifesavers to people who tend to roam around the Wasteland."

Summer let out a long, frustrated sigh. "You still haven't said why it was my fault," Summer pointed out, scowling up at the taller women.

"Because you took so long fixing the car," Volka said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Summer blinked at her, multiple times, then let out a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a growl. "I only had one spare tire," Summer said, glaring at Volka. "I don't even know where I'd begin to look for one out here, so I had to patch up all the holes in the other damaged tire by melting them shut and putting tape on them. If Asra hadn't been there to flash-freeze the melted sections, we could've been stranded for days instead of hours," she finished, practically growling out the last words.

Volka chuckled nervously, taking a step away from the younger woman as she rubbed her neck sheepishly. "W-well, uh, thanks?"

Before Summer could respond to that, a thin metal chain wrapped around her legs and dragged her to the ground, making her yelp in surprise. "What the-?" Summer began, only to be cut off by another yelp as she started being dragged away. "Help!" Summer yelled at Volka and Rhonwen, who were staring past her with wide eyes.

"Alfred?" Volka asked, looking at the man who'd entangled Summer. "What the hell?"

"Go ask Ferrer," Alfred grumbled loudly, his pointed ears twitching in disdain as he dragged the kicking and screaming Summer away. "Damn bastard, making me work overtime..." the donkey Faunus continued to grumble under his breath, trailing off into vague noises.

Volka blinked at him, then let out a sigh. "Rhonwen, mind tagging along with them?" Volka asked, making Rhonwen look at her in shock. "I've got a feeling I know what's going on, but Alfred's not exactly a pleasant person, so Summer might need your help before long."

Rhonwen opened her mouth, only to close it again, speechless. After a moment of staring at Volka, she took off running after Alfred and Summer.

Volka watched them leave for a long moment before letting out a sigh and turning away. "What have you done this time, Rust?" Volka muttered, walking off in the direction of the town hall.

All the while, Asra slept in the backseat of Summer's car, her snoring only interrupted by an occasional mumble caused by her dreams.

XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX

"You're a jackass, you know that?" Volka asked, tapping her fingers against her arm. She was leaning against one of the walls in Ferrer's office in the town hall, a well-kept building large enough to hold about half the town in its main room. The blacksmith's office was fairly barren, almost as proof of how little he was ever in it; a single desk and a few chairs were all that stood in the little room.

"Sometimes, you need a firm hand," Ferrer said, going over a few bits of paperwork. They wouldn't be sent out to the NCR until next month, but he tried to keep on top of it so he didn't need to do them all at once. "You know how this works, V. You can't overcome your fears until you face them."

"And having Alfred drag Summer off like that was, what, your idea of doing the right thing?" Volka asked, glaring at him. "Gods, Ferrer, you know what she's been through, don't you? Be a bit gentler."

Ferrer looked up from his work then, directing his white eyes to meet Volka's blue. "For the better part of a decade, she has refused psychiatric help with her problem."

"Because one of the people who tried to rape her was her psychiatrist!"

"Which makes it even more essential we pick the right man for the job," Ferrer said, folding his hands on his desk. "Alfred's unique appearance, combined with his general mannerisms, make him extremely likely to break her of her fears. Especially if Haruki is there to act as a counterbalance."

"And how were you hoping to explain to Asra what you're doing to her new girlfriend?" Volka asked, making Ferrer smile nervously. "You know, since she's going to be here most of the time from now on?"

"I was actually hoping you would tell her," Ferrer said. "It'll make this worse on me, but it'll make Summer focus on how much of a manipulative bastard I am. She'll grow to appreciate the honest jerk that Alfred is, as well as Haruki's kindness."

Volka blinked at him, then shook her head. "You think way too much like a villain," Volka said in a deadpan, drawing another smile from Ferrer. "What if this backfires on you, and she starts hating men in general?"

"She won't," Ferrer said simply. "She values her friendship with Storm too much for that."

Volka flinched at the name, a fact that Ferrer noticed but decided to ignore. "Then why not make him help her with this?" Volka asked, frowning at Ferrer.

"He's too busy training the new militiamen," Ferrer said. "If he wasn't, I would've gone with him over Alfred, though I still plan on sending her his way if his schedule clears up some. I based her parts of her new weapon off of his, after all."

Volka blinked again. "New weapon?" she asked, swallowing at the lump that appeared in her throat. "You mean... you're doing it again?"

Ferrer smiled warmly, then nodded, reaching below his desk and pulling out a sword similar to Volka's own. "Remember this?" Ferrer asked, hefting the weapon in one hand. Calling it a greatsword would be generous, but its blade was quite nearly wide and long enough to meet that descriptor, and its guard would have been more at home on a larger blade; as it was, the twin revolving shotgun barrels jutting from the guard and running lengthwise along the sword made it seem comically undersized, and the half-hidden triggers embedded in the hilt seemed clunky. "Asra brought it in about two weeks ago."

"Yeah, and we all pretty much decided that it was an old Huntsman weapon," Volka said.

"It's not old," Ferrer said, placing the weapon on his desk and tapping part of the blade. "The edge doesn't have the distinctive layering of Pre-War forging. It's only two layers thick, and was partially warped by heat during its forging."

"You mean-"

"Yes. Someone, somewhere in the Wasteland, found out the secrets to engineering Huntsman-class weaponry," Ferrer said, folding his hands over the sword. "And I managed to reverse-engineer the mechanics of it. Ask Alfred to show you the Emerald Reapers I made for him, if you get the chance; I plan on making a lot more of them and arming the best shots in the militia with them."

"Why only the best shots?"

"I can only go so far with the knowledge I have. For now, revolvers and their like are the only guns I can forge into Huntsman-class weapons," Ferrer said with a sigh. "So, we've been making a few Dust-infused munitions on the side, including explosives, though unfortunately Trisha took most of her secrets to the grave when she was killed by that Giant Nevermore."

Volka growled under her breath, slamming her fist into the wall behind her. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, forcing her temper back under control. "Sorry," she mumbled, her eyes still closed.

"I miss her too, V," Ferrer said softly. "Every life we lost that day was a tragedy, but we need to keep trying for the people who are still with us."

"Right," Volka said. "Right." After a moment, she opened her eyes and scowled suspiciously at Ferrer. "You aren't trying to manipulate me right now, are you?"

Ferrer grinned in response, inclining his head very slightly to her. "Could you blame me if I was?" he asked, prompting a smirk from the blonde. "Now, go on. I imagine Asra's trying to kill Alfred right now, so you should probably stop her."

Volka blinked at him, then groaned, slapping her palm against her forehead. "Shit, I think she's still asleep in the backseat of Summer's car," Volka mumbled, drawing a chuckle from Ferrer. "I'll be back with her in a minute."

"I'll make sure to wait outside. We've had enough property damage lately."

XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX

Summer hit the ground for the forth time that day, her chest slamming painfully against the loose dirt. Fear and anger were making adrenaline race through her veins, and she rolled to the side a half-second before the rubber dagger slammed into the ground where she'd been. Letting out a sound halfway between a growl and a whimper, Summer slammed the heel of her palm into the man's wrist, though she flinched away when she realized what she'd just done.

"Good," Alfred growled, sliding his fake knife free of the ground. "Some progress."

"Ah think that's a good stopping point for the moment," Haruki said, raising a hand palm-up to Alfred, a clear gesture for him to stop. "Let's take a break."

"We've been here for three minutes, Doc," Alfred grumbled, idly flipping the knife in his hand.

"And yah've been manhandling her, tah use a rather appropriate term," Haruki said. "Give her a few minutes."

Summer stood up shakily, nervously stepping away from Haruki when he raised a hand to brush some dirt off her back. "I-I'll be fine," Summer stammered, taking another few steps away and fighting the urge to swallow at the lump in her throat.

"It's okay, Summer," Rhonwen said gently, placing her hand on the shorter woman's shoulder. Summer was shaking, but almost imperceptibly; if Rhonwen hadn't actually touched her, she might never have known. "There's some shade over beneath those trees. Let's go sit down for a bit, okay?"

"Yeah," Summer said, swallowing. "S-sure."

The four of them were performing this little "trust exercise", if you could call it that, just next to the massive fields that the people of Yang's Rest grew their crops in. Nearly two dozen people were hard at work harvesting fruits and vegetables from their most recent harvest, grown thanks to the combined efforts of Ajax and Demeter. Speaking of the twins, they were stealing glances at Summer and Rhonwen, as well as at the good doctor and vicious militiaman who were helping the young wolf Faunus.

Well, "helping".

The trees that Rhonwen guided Summer over to had borne lemons only half an hour prior, but were barren of fruit for the time being. The field hands worked in sections to help keep track of how much work they'd done, and the orchard was the first section they normally worked through. Leaves and dead branches always wound up being knocked loose by their efforts, but Rhonwen figured they'd be soothing the wolf Faunus, as racist as she knew that sounded.

"You've been holding up rather well," Rhonwen said encouragingly as Summer all but collapsed against the tree trunk, leaning against the solid wood and taking long, deep breaths. "I don't think I'd be doing anywhere near this well in your shoes, Summer. I'd probably be curled up on the ground and crying my eyes out right now."

Summer looked up at the white-haired woman, blinking at her with silver eyes full of slowly ebbing fear. She shivered, then looked back down and closed her eyes, trying to keep focused on her breathing. Her hand found her pistol, the Imp, almost instinctively, and she immediately felt much calmer and more secure.

Rhonwen noticed Summer's breathing even out when she touched her gun, and was immediately struck with an idea. "I'll be right back, okay, Summer?" Rhonwen asked gently. "I just need to talk to Alfred and Haruki about something." Summer nodded slowly, trying to keep her motions slow to help keep herself calm, and Rhonwen walked away, facing the two men with a stern face and a very faint smile.

XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX

"Are you sure about this?" Harold asked, raising his voice to be heard above the whirring hum of the Hawk's propellers. "For all we know, they want out!"

"We have our orders, Blackstone!" Neo growled at the man, glaring down at the town beneath them. "Know your role and shut your mouth!"

The two of them were standing on the outer platforms of a Hawk gunship, Harold clinging tightly the safety bar with his free hand. About twelve miles away and a few hundred feet beneath them sat a town belonging to the NCR, the sparsely packed buildings interspersed with guard towers manned by the town's militia.

Wait, why am I telling you this? You know it's Yang's Rest, don't you?

...

Yeah, okay. I'll keep going.

Harold sighed, then nodded his head. "Fine. Just land this thing, okay? I'll need to work a circle to get the right one!"

"You hear that, Lasky?!" Neo yelled, tapping a finger on the glass of the cockpit. Sergeant Phoenix Lasky raised a thumb at her, only to switch to flipping her off a moment later. "I like this one!" Neo said to Harold, grinning like a shark.

XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX

"I hate you, and I hate this," Alfred grumbled as he stared down the sight of his hunting rifle, lining up to the first target that Rhonwen and Haruki had set up. He was laying prone on top of one of the guard towers, having all but shoved the current on-duty militiaman off when he appropriated it.

"How do you think I feel?" Summer mumbled, embarrassed and afraid. She shifted slightly, trying to make herself more comfortable, only to hold as still as possible when she heard a grunt from Alfred. She took a deep breath and looked down the scope of her Incubus, trying to keep her breathing steady enough for precision shooting.

"If only I had a camera," Rhonwen mused, looking upon the two Faunus with amusement.

"White-haired bitch," Alfred grumbled, trying to ignore Summer's weight on his back.

"If she's in control, she's less likely to freak out like she is right now," Rhonwen had said. "Instead of making her face her fear by fighting you, how about we make her face it by working with you?"

"Target A in three," Haruki announced, making both Alfred and Summer stiffen. "Two. One. Mark."

The shots were almost simultaneous, and two bullets lanced into the center of the distant wooden target and burst, the thin rubber shells popping open and delivering a payload of red and blue paint. The twin impacts caused the roughly made circle of painted wood to bounce from the boards holding it up and spin erratically through the air before it landed with a thump.

Rhonwen blinked, amazed at their skill. "Wow," she breathed, staring at the downed target. "You two are that good?"

"The goal is tah make the bullets bounce off'a each other, remember?" Haruki asked, raising an eyebrow at her. Turning back to the two sharpshooters, he said, "Target B in three. Two. One. Mark."

And so it went. Alfred grumbled under his breath pretty much every second he wasn't shooting, and the only things keeping Summer from having a panic attack were the comforts of cold steel and flying bullets, along with Rhonwen's occasional encouragements.

After half an hour, and more than a hundred bullets fired, Haruki finally called them to a stop. "Ah think that's good enough for now."

"Thank fuck," Alfred growled, making Summer let out a timid squeak and jump to her feet. "I don't think I could've lasted another second of that shit. Seriously, girl, how did you manage to find my fucking lungs?"

Summer was shaking again, but her breathing was even, likely because she was tightening her grip on her rifle. "I-I'm sorry," Summer stammered quietly, backing away from Alfred until she had pressed her waist to the thin railing behind her. "I-I didn't... I d-didn't kn-know."

"Alfred," Haruki said, his tone warning. The militiaman glanced over at the doctor, only to realize he wasn't looking at him; instead, Haruki was looking out at the horizon, where a solitary figure had appeared.

"On it," Alfred said, drawing a short-range pistol scope from his hip and sighting down it at the approaching figure. "Orange hair, odd outfit. Did Shula dye her hair again?"

"Not recently," Haruki grunted, glancing over at Summer and gesturing for her to raise her rifle.

"Is that a grenade launcher?" Alfred mumbled, squinting down his scope at the now sprinting woman. Seeing her heft it and fire, he growled, tossed his scope to the ground, and lifted his rifle, bracing it against the tower's railing. "Incoming!"

Summer had already lined up her shot and fired before Alfred could finish speaking, her paint-round impacting the grenade and detonating it before it could get more than half a mile, causing an explosion of pink smoke. "Are there any live rounds up here?" Summer asked, laying herself prone on the ground and sighting down her rifle's scope yet again.

"No," Alfred grumbled, shooting the next grenade the still-distant woman fired. "The good doctor said it would be a bad idea to give us real bullets while we're doing this crap."

"Which one?" Summer asked jokingly, drawing a brief chuckle from Alfred. Haruki blinked at Alfred in surprise; in all the years he'd known Alfred, he'd never seen the Faunus chuckle, or even smile. Rhonwen was surprised as well, but mostly by how quickly Summer could adapt to a stressful situation.

"Doc, raise the alarm," Alfred ordered.

"Right," Haruki said, gesturing for Rhonwen to head down the ladder. "Keep her busy while we get Ebeneezer."

"Shit, volley!" Summer exclaimed, firing at one of the half dozen grenade rounds that were now streaking towards the town. The woman was much closer now, only two miles away, meaning there was very little room for judgement when it came to aiming. Summer was only able to take down half of the grenades.

Fortunately for her, Alfred took out the others. "Good shots," he growled. It was not an annoyed growl, or an angry growl; it was the contented rumble of a well-fed predator.

Summer smirked and said, "You too. Bit slow on that last one, though."

Alfred let out a trio of short, wheezy laughs, nearly causing Haruki to fall from the ladder he was climbing down. "Think I just changed my mind about you, girl."

XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX

"So this is her town, huh?" The woman was speaking in a low, almost playful growl, a direct contrast to the anger and frustration shining in her green eyes. Small globs of paint all but ruined the white shirt she was wearing, though they'd somehow managed to avoid the heart-shaped cleavage window and her metal-lined black jacket. Her pink skirt had taken a direct hit, however, and was occasionally dripping blue paint. "Yang's Rest... she doesn't deserve it, that's for sure," she said, shaking her head and setting her mess of orange hair shaking.

The oddest part about her, in Ebeneezer's opinion, was the fact that she was translucent. He could see straight through her and at the expansive wasteland behind her, even from his hiding spot behind someone's home.

The woman let out a sigh, shaking her head again. "I'm in the wrong here, aren't I?" he heard her mumble as she stared up at the cloudy sky. "What would you do if you were here, Ren?"

Ebeneezer steeled his mind, hefted his shield, and stepped out from behind the building. "Ma'am," he said, drawing the woman's attention to him. "Were you the one who fired grenades at this town?"

The woman blinked at him, then nodded her head. "Who else around here has a grenade launcher?" she asked playfully, lifting her massive weapon with a single hand. It was more than three feet long, all gleaming pink steel.

"Then, as the sheriff of this town, I'm afraid I need to place you under arrest," Ebeneezer said, tapping his Adamantine long sword against the steel pauldron he wore to protect himself from it. "Come quietly and I won't have to hurt you."

The woman smiled sadly, shaking her head again. "Can't do that, kid. I've got something I need to do first."

Ebeneezer sighed, and nodded. "Then let's get this part over with, shall we?" he asked, raising his shield defensively.

"Let's."

She moved like a snake high on Jet, crossing the near thirty feet between them in less than a second, and her grenade launcher changed as she charged, turning into a massive hammer that she slammed into the sheriff's shield. Pink smoke flooded the space around them, and the impact and detonation sent Ebeneezer flying away. He slammed back-first into a house, though mercifully didn't break through the wall.

Nora Valkyrie followed him out of the smoke, taking a single massive leap that sent her nearly sixty feet into the air. At the apex of her jump, she fired her weapon up into the sky, sending her spinning down onto the still-recovering sheriff, who only barely managed to get his shield up in time to brace himself.

The snap of his arm breaking could be heard on the other side of town, his Aura torn to pieces by the force of the impact. Ebeneezer shouted wordlessly, collapsing to the ground and dropping his sword.

"I'm sorry," Nora said sincerely, bowing her head to the injured sheriff. "This wasn't personal."

And then she walked away, leaving Ebeneezer nearly mindless from the pain in his arm.

XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX

"Damn it," Alfred growled under his breath, glaring at Nora through his surplus pistol scope. "Ebeneezer lost."

"Is... is he..." Summer began to ask, only to trail off. For some reason, she had a hard time saying the words.

"No. Looks like a broken arm."

Summer breathed a sigh of relief, then let herself harden back up. Her face a mask of steely anger, she stood up from her crouch and faced the drop before her. Falling wasn't something she'd ever really dealt with in the Vault, so it was hard for her to reconcile just how high up she was. "Let's go get this bitch," Summer growled, preparing to launch herself over the edge.

"Wait," Alfred said, making Summer pause. "Ferrer wanted you to have this if you made some decent progress," the donkey Faunus said, unbuckling an extra weapons belt and handing it to her.

On the belt was a holster, and within the holster was an SMG. Boxy, and a little under a foot and a half long, it looked quite a bit less intimidating than Summer's shotgun or rifle. What's more, it had a length of metal protruding from the front, just beneath the barrel, that looked like it was held in place by a mechanism.

"Ferrer's been on a roll the past few days, making weapons like the old Huntsmen," Alfred explained as Summer took the weapon from him. "That bayonet is detachable, and filled with Dust. Meter on the side tells you how much is in it. The gun itself takes 9mm rounds, and has three settings: semi-auto; two-shot burst; and full auto."

"Almost sounds more like a rifle than an SMG," Summer commented, strapping the belt around her chest so the gun itself was hanging by her hip.

"Pretty much," Alfred said, nodding in agreement.

"You're not jealous or anything, right?" Summer asked, raising an eyebrow at Alfred.

He chuckled, then shook his head. "Nah. I got something better," he said, tapping the revolvers at his hips. "Calls them Emerald Reapers."

"Cool," Summer said, looking at the weapon she now wore. "Wonder what I should call you... Succubus."

"Huh?"

"My new gun's name is Succubus."

Alfred chuckled and shook his head again. "We should probably get moving. That bitch won't be standing around waiting for us."

"Right."

XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX

Nora hummed to herself as she walked, casually bearing her hammer over her shoulders as if it was made of cardboard and not high-density steel. She was only mildly concerned by the way she could see through her feet, being more focused on her current objective; what bothered her more was the way the civilians ran away from her when they saw her, and the militiamen tried to detain her when they noticed her.

But she was used to blood on her Magnhild, so she wasn't too annoyed.

"You know, maybe I should've asked where exactly the thing was?" Nora wondered aloud, pausing to stare up at the sky. Mere minutes earlier, there had scarcely been a cloud in sight; now, dark grey storm clouds were moving in from the north, barely leashed electricity flickering among their edges. "Neat."

"You know," a voice said, bringing Nora out of her idle musings and shifting her attention to the man now standing in front of her, "most people who invade Yang's Rest don't just walk past the civilians. I wonder why you're different?"

Nora's smile was brittle, the reminder of her old friend-turned-enemy making her heart hurt. "I've got no reason to hurt them," Nora said, shifting her grip on her hammer so its head slammed harshly into the ground. "Heck, the only reason I hurt those poor guardsmen was 'cause they got in my way."

"Oh?" Storm asked, raising an eyebrow. Sparks flickered down from his eyes as he stared at her, assessing her power. "Looks like there's not much I could do to stop you, huh? So, mind telling me why you're here?"

"Oh, I just need to knock down a statue of an old friend," Nora said with forced cheer. "I hope you don't mind too much."

Storm sighed, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and sticking it to his back with a minor Aura exercise. "Alright, follow me," Storm said, kneading at his forehead to ease his newly born headache. "I'll lead you there."

"Eh?" Nora asked, taken aback. "Why?"

"As the head of the militia, my duty is to protect the people who live here," Storm explained, giving Nora an annoyed look. "Including my subordinates. And if you just destroy an old statue that almost no one cares about, then head on your way, you'll have stopped hurting my people."

"Well, yeah, I guess that's right," Nora said, nodding her head.

"Besides, Ferrer's been planning on tearing that thing down for a while," Storm continued, starting off down a side street and beckoning the ghost to follow him. "It's made out of some useful metals, and we could always some more raw materials. Especially now that we've got a good mechanic living here."

"Oh?" Nora asked politely, not really caring.

"Mm-hmm. Sole survivor of her Vault," Storm said, making Nora flinch. "Old bloodline, too. Goes by Summer Dream, but she's a descendant of one of the old Huntsmen."

"Which one?"

"Ruby Rose."

"So little Summer had some brats of her own, huh?" Nora asked wistfully, thinking back to the few times she'd met Summer Rose. "Last time I saw her, she told me she found boys 'yucky'. 'Course, she was four at the time."

Storm chuckled. "She's not the only descendant we've got 'round here, either. These days, it seems like you could throw a rock in any direction and hit someone descended from someone famous. Hell, this town was founded by three of them: Asra's descended from Blake Belladonna, Volka's from Yang, giving our town its name, and Ferrer's..." Storm trailed off, eyeing the ghostly Huntress behind him. "Well, he's one of yours, actually."

Nora blinked at him, surprised, then let out a chuckle that turned into a full-belly laugh. "That's great!" Nora exclaimed between laughs. Once she'd calmed down a bit, she let out a relieved sigh, wearing a wide grin on her lips. "My son must've had a full life after I died, huh? And he must've met a girl at some point, too! Ooh, I wish could've been there! I wonder what the wedding was like..."

Storm felt his eye beginning to twitch as the specter behind him started rambling. 'Why is it always me who has to escort weirdos around town?' he thought as he took a turn around a corner. "We're here," he said a moment later, gesturing at the statue in front of him.

And at Ferrer, Asra, and Volka, who just happened to be standing in front of it.

"Asra, calm down," Volka urged the cat-eared Faunus, her arms hooked beneath Asra's shoulders in an attempt to keep her from attacking Ferrer. "He's just doing what he thinks best, without bothering to ask either of us. You know, like always!"

"Let go of me, V!" Asra yelled, practically foaming at the mouth as she tried to struggle out of the blonde's grip. She let out a feline yowl and planted her feet, dragging herself an inch closer to the steel-haired man.

"Asra, you know as well as I do that this is in Summer's best interests," Ferrer said, rubbing at his forehead and the headache brewing behind it. "She needs to get over her phobia of men if she's going to have a chance out on her own."

Asra let out another yowl and thrashed against Volka's arms, nearly springing free from her hold. "Bastard!" she growled, glaring at Ferrer, who threw up his arms in frustration.

"You just want to fight it out? Fine, I'm game," Ferrer growled right back, using his Semblance to shift his thick steel bracers into a shield and spike combination. "Let her go, V."

"Um, sir?" Storm called over, distracting the town's three founders. "I've got an old ghost who wants to tear down the statue."

"You're kidding," Ferrer said dryly, looking past him to the translucent Nora. "Why is it that everything strange happens around here?" he muttered under his breath, stepping to one side. "Fine, just get it over with. And try not to grind it into dust, okay?"

Nora didn't answer him, or even hear him. Her eyes were focused on Volka, who was staring at her just as intently.

"Yang," Nora growled, clenching her fists so tightly that one of her gloves broke under the stress.

"Nora?" Volka mumbled, stumbling and falling to the ground, her eyes wide. She screamed in pain and terror as memories assaulted her mind, clenching her arms around her head in an instinctive attempt to shield herself.

Nora screamed as well, a wordless battle cry containing all of her hate and fury for the blonde in front of her, but then shackles made from multi-colored light appeared around her limbs and stretched them apart, leaving her stuck in a T-pose.

"Volka!" Asra yelled, whirling on her feet and kneeling at the downed woman's side. "Volka, what's wrong?!"

Volka screamed again, and rolled so she was laying on her arms and knees instead of her back. Tears rolled down her face, dropping into the dusty dirt beneath her as they poured from her eyes.

"Volka!" Asra shouted at her, putting a hand on the woman's shoulder. This turned out to be exactly the wrong thing to do, as it resulted in Volka's elbow slamming into Asra's chin, breaking her Aura and her jaw in a single blow.

Asra collapsed to the ground in an unconscious heap as Volka continued to wail in pain and fear, blood trailing from the cat Faunus's mouth.

"What the hell?!" Storm murmured, raising his gun shakily and aiming at Volka. "Ferrer! What the hell's going on?!"

"Don't- behind you!" Ferrer yelled, gesturing wildly with his hands.

Storm turned around just in time to duck beneath a wild swing from Nora's hammer; the ghost had managed to free herself from her shackles, the shattered constructs of light slowly fading out of existence. Nora let out a wail of her own, her scream loud and piercing enough to shatter windows hundreds of feet away, and started to stomp towards Volka.

The sound roused the blonde from her memories, and she looked up to see Nora standing over her, the whites of her eyes melded into her irises, her hammer raised high over her head. Volka, practically unconscious from the sudden influx of memory, reacted on instinct, drawing her sword from her back and lunging for the ghostly woman's legs.

Earth shattered beneath Nora's hammer as it bore down upon Volka's legs, and transparent pink blood flew from the specter's legs as the blonde cut clear through them in a flash of yellow light. Nora fell to the ground and let out another banshee wail, swinging hatefully at Volka from her prone position, only succeeding at knocking her further away.

Volka rose to her feet shakily, her eyes flickering wildly between blue and yellow and red, seemingly at random. She clutched a hand over her face and screamed again, tears still streaming down her cheeks.

Then she ran, dust trailing behind her as she fled as far away as she could.

"Volka! Volka!" Ferrer called after her, to no effect; she either ignored him or couldn't hear him through what was happening to her. "Damn it! Storm! What the fuck is happening?!" he yelled at the militia captain, who was still blinking at the massive crater Nora's hammer had left.

"How the hell should I know?!" Storm shouted back, barely keeping himself from panicking.

"Asra?!"

Summer's yell was followed by the heavy schluck of metal driving through flesh, and Storm and Ferrer both turned to see Alfred driving the point of one of his Emerald Reapers through Nora's skull as the wolf Faunus ran past them. Nora stopped her screeching, and shattered into shards of pink light that faded away into nothingness.

"Asra?" Summer mumbled, fear making her voice weak and her eyes watery as she fell to her knees beside Asra. "No, no, no..." Summer murmured, placing her fingers on Asra's neck to feel for a pulse. "Yes, okay." The younger Faunus couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, her heart soaring as she felt the steady thrum of Asra's heartbeat. She withdrew her hand and drew out her PIP-Boy's keyboard, sending a frantic message to Rhonwen that Asra was unconscious and bleeding from the mouth. "Hey!" Summer yelled over to Ferrer and Storm, who were both still arguing. "Help me get her to the clinic!"

Ferrer looked down at Asra, then off in the direction Volka had run. "Storm, you heard her," Ferrer growled, gesturing. "Alfred, you're with me."

"What?!" Summer growled, infuriated that he wasn't devoting every resource he could to helping Asra. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"Going after Volka," Ferrer spat back, making Summer flinch. "She ran off for some reason. Alfred, stick with me," Ferrer added, not noticing Summer's eyes widen. "If you see her, do what you can to delay her until I can restrain her."

Alfred grunted, his eyes briefly flicking to Summer before they returned to Ferrer. He tilted his head slightly to Summer, then took off after the mayor as he started running.

"Here," Storm said, kneeling next to Summer. "I'll handle her body, you keep her head steady, okay? From the looks of things, she's got a broken jaw, and that can get worse if it's not handled properly. You hear me?"

"Y-yeah," Summer said, swallowing at the lump forming in her throat. "Yeah. Okay."

XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX

"Got her in sight," Alfred grunted, glaring ahead of him. Volka had managed to gain an impressive lead over him and Ferrer, but was starting to slow down; unlike her, they trained with the militia on a regular basis, resulting in a much better fortitude for running.

"Stop her," Ferrer panted out, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. His face was red, his vision was starting to tunnel, and he really regretted trying to keep up with Alfred.

Alfred said nothing, instead speeding up dramatically; his sprint, while not as fast as Asra's on a moonlit night, was still faster than most people could ever do. He barreled into Volka like a linebacker, planting his shoulder firmly between her shoulders as he tackled her to the ground.

Despite Volka being vastly stronger than Alfred, he managed to keep her pinned by preventing her from gaining the leverage she'd need to fling him off. That didn't stop her from trying, though, and he struggled to keep her down.

"Let go!" Volka shouted, struggling to get free and failing.

"Just wait for Ferrer," Alfred growled, striking the back of her head with his elbow in a futile attempt to pacify her.

Ferrer made it to them a minute later, and nearly collapsed to the ground, though he settled for doubling over and taking deep, wheezy breaths. "Volka, what the hell?" Ferrer finally gasped out, raising his head to glare at the downed woman. "Why'd you... take off like that?"

"You don't..." Volka began to snap at him, only to trail off, her eyes widening. "Get off, Alfred! Hurry!" she shouted, renewing her struggles against the donkey Faunus.

"Why?" Ferrer asked.

"They're coming, you idiots! The Grimm!"

As if on cue, hundreds if not thousands of black figures appeared on the horizon, forming a near solid wall of black from west to south. Alfred, too shocked by what he was seeing, was easily flung off by Volka, who darted back to her feet and glared at the two men.

"This is why I left," Volka spat, her eyes turning red. "I can't... I can't stay like this! Not when they're coming for me!"

"Volka, what the fuck is happening?!" Ferrer yelled, clenching his fists so tightly that the skin over his knuckles began to tear.

"I remember everything, Ferrer," the blonde said, turning away from him. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she continued, saying, "I'm not Volka. Volka never existed. She was just... the way I tried to reconstruct my life off of what little memory I kept."

She glared at the encroaching tide of Grimm, pulling her sword from her back and extending it to its full length in a single motion. "My name is Yang Xiao Long," she said, starting to run away from Ferrer and Alfred again. She ran west, keeping the horde's attention on her and drawing them further away from the town bearing her name.

Ferrer stared after her, gritting his teeth as he watched her run. "Damn it," he mumbled. "Damn it! Fuck!"

"I don't think I can take that many," Alfred commented, scowling at the sheer mass of Grimm. "We need to get back to town, Ferrer. Get the militia on our southwest front and prepare them to take out the Grimm that'll spill off from that."

"Right," Ferrer growled, turning back to Yang's Rest. "Do it, Alfred. I'll catch up."

Alfred grunted affirmatively, taking off at a sprint. Ferrer turned to glare at Yang as she ran away, hiding his tears from Alfred as he mourned the loss of one of the few friends he had. "You're still Volka," Ferrer mumbled, shaking his head as he started jogging back to town. "You wouldn't try to protect us like this if you weren't."

XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX

"Well, that went well," Harold said dryly, looking from afar at the mess Nora had made of the town. He was using a rather inefficient application of Wind Dust, distorting the air in front of him in order to see things from further away; a good set of binoculars would've worked better, too. "About half of the militia has been disabled, and two of the founders are similarly out of commission. Thoughts?"

Neo grunted, looking through her own pair of binoculars. "In about two weeks, we'll be able to move in a significant force," Neo said. "Give them medicine, let them borrow a few doctors, station a few soldiers here while their militia recovers. They'll turn from the NCR and give us a better staging ground."

"I still don't like this," Harold said. "It's dishonest. And really obvious, if they've got anyone smart enough to put the pieces together."

"That's why we wait a week before making contact," Neo said. "They'll be less likely to believe we did it if there's enough time between now and our appearance, plus some additional time between our promise to help and when help arrives."

Harold grunted, frowning at the town. After a moment, he asked, "Any guesses on what that screaming was about? Or why she broke from my control?"

"No clue," Neo said. "I don't know how the Maiden magic works."

"Aren't you a witch?"

"I was apprenticed to one until the bitch discarded me," Neo growled, glaring at Harold. "And the Maiden magic came from a wizard, not a witch."

"What's the difference?" Harold asked, making Neo spit on him. "Eugh, gross! What the fuck?"

"Let's head back," Neo said, turning back to the airship. She had to step over the corpse of Sergeant Phoenix Lasky, killed by her own blade, to get to the cockpit. "He's starting to stink."

XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX

"Damn it," a militiaman near Summer mumbled, staring at the sheer mass of Grimm bearing down on Yang's Rest. His tan skin was broken by splotchy patches of paler skin, evidence of the genetic disorder wreaking havoc on his body. His eyes were a cloudy grey, a stark contrast to his shimmering curtain of purple hair and the dozen colors his eccentric outfit was made from; seriously, it was an eyesore. You're better off not hearing about it. "How are there so many of them?"

"Shut it, Lei," another militiaman said, tossing a hefty light machine gun to him like it was no larger than a pistol; he caught it with a similar lack of care and effort. Her brilliant red hair was broken by the long pair of rabbit ears jutting up from them, and her eyes were a shade of blue that Summer had never seen before. She stood a good seven feet tall, and was built like a bodybuilder. Her blue overalls, worn over a plain white shirt and a pair of thick boots, paired well with her natural tan, making her look like a farm hand. "We're not here to question; just to shoot the damn things."

"Right," Lei drawled, masking his obvious fear beneath a veneer of awkward annoyance. "Different question, then: why do we have a civilian with us?"

"Because you need all the help you can get," Summer said, looking down the scope of her Incubus and trying to find the most obvious target. "Right, Shula?"

"Damn right, Summer," the rabbit-eared Faunus said, nodding her agreement. "The doctors are prioritizing fixing up the militiamen who can get back out here in a hurry, but even then we'd be shorthanded for this. So, a lot of civvies volunteered to help out."

"Well, you might as well give that rifle to someone who could actually use it, girl," Lei said, gesturing at Shula.

Summer kept herself from snorting derisively, instead focusing on her frustration over what just happened, her fear from what she'd been enduring, and her utter hatred for the Shade. Silver sparks fell from her eyes as she sighted down the scope, and she fired at her target, still more than a mile away.

Silver flame exploded into being a second later, erupting around the head of a particularly large Creep and engulfing the cluster of smaller Creeps surrounding it. The flames faded near-instantly, the powerful mixture of silver magic and Dust leaving nothing behind.

Summer adjusted her aim, looking for another target to expend her powerful Dust-augmented bullets on. Her chest and her scarred shoulder were in pain, she knew, but she couldn't feel it, thanks to the dose of Med-X she'd pilfered from Rhonwen's duffel bag, still in the trunk of her car. "Just keep me covered," Summer said, drawing upon the power of her eyes again as she sighted on a particularly agile Ursa Major. "I've only got six shots left of this."

"One mile out!" Ferrer's shout came from above, bolstered by the megaphone in front of him. He was standing atop a guard tower, looking through a pair of binoculars at the incoming horde, and making sure everyone, militia and volunteer, knew the timing needed. "ETA four minutes!"

"So, where's your weapon, Shula?" Lei asked, eager to keep from thinking about the Grimm.

Shula couldn't help but grin, patting the box she wore on her hip. "Not quite time yet," Shula said, her grin only widening when Lei's jaw dropped open.

"You got it working again?!" he asked excitedly, drawing a giggle from her.

"Thanks to Summer," Shula said, her voice practically drowned out by Summer firing at another Grimm, swallowing half a dozen Beowolves in a swath of silver flame. "Thanks to Summer," she repeated, rolling her eyes. "She fixed up the camera and linked it to the main component again."

"Ooh, now I'm excited!" Lei exclaimed, bouncing on his heels as he turned back to the oncoming horde. "I get to see a real Huntsman weapon in action!"

Summer grit her teeth as she fired again, this time punching a wide crater through the head of a King Taijitu; another shot took out its second head, but Summer was beginning to worry about how useful these tactics were. She and the other snipers could take out priority targets, but there were still nearly a thousand Grimm rushing down on them.

"Dust! Engage!" Ferrer shouted as Summer took out a particularly large Alpha Beowolf and the two Creeps that were closest to it.

At his word, several members of the militia unleashed potent Dust-based attacks. Writhing serpents made of water crashed into the Grimm horde, flinging smaller Grimm around with enough force to kill them and still managing to check some of the larger beasts; miniature tornadoes bearing violet flames whirled into being and stormed through their ranks, leaving smoke and dissolving Grimm in their wake; and the earth itself shattered upwards as the horde drew ever closer, stalagmites thrusting up through the Grimm unfortunate enough to be up front.

Summer found herself spending her last few Dust-augmented rounds on a particularly aggressive Grimm, growling in her throat when she saw that even her silver flames couldn't put the beast down. Chunks had been torn from its hide, and it was missing part of its mask and head, but it kept moving, and only when Ferrer announced the two minute mark did Summer truly realize just how massive the creature was; it stood nearly thirty feet tall at the shoulder, and the hairs of its mane were longer than Summer was tall. Its long, ape-like forearms dragged across the ground as its more feline hind legs propelled it at high speeds, and its leonine tail flicked about with enough force to crack like a whip. What's more, the unmistakable glow of Dust poured from its eyes, and its roar shook and shattered the earth beneath it.

"Dust-augmented Grimm on the front!" Summer shouted. "Couldn't drop it!"

"Damn it!" Lei growled, staring at the massive lion Grimm. "A Nemean?! Really?!"

"Hunters!" Ferrer yelled into his megaphone. "Go!"

"Looks like I'm up," Shula said, letting a smirk cross her face. "Wish me luck?"

"Done," Lei said, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Come back safe, Shula."

"Done," Shula said with a grin.

With that, she jumped away, bouncing high into the sky as she activated her Dust-powered weapon. Threads of rigid blue light streamed from the box, forming around her hands into the shape of an intricate scythe, thicker lines forming the snaith than those forming the blade. The ancient weapon of Velvet Scarlatina, kindled to life by her descendant, blazed its glory on the battlefield once more as Shula dropped from the sky, her replica of the Crescent Rose blasting a single shot upwards to speed her descent.

Spinning in an arc, Shula flicked her hand across a nearly invisible lever hidden in the snaith, causing the scythe's beard to flick itself upwards and lock into its new position with a metallic clunk. Her blade cut cleanly through the wounded Nemean, bisecting it and nearly burying itself into the ground from her excess of momentum. Shula regained her footing and glanced around quickly, only barely managing to duck beneath the swinging claws of a Beowolf. She twisted on her heel and rammed her elbow into the Grimm's chest, knocking it far enough away from her that she could cut through it with her hard-light construct.

Shula wasn't the only one wielding a Huntsman-class weapon into battle, of course: there was also Alfred, who charged in strong with his Emerald Reapers and tore a line clear through the advancing horde, slicing through any that dared close with him and shooting Dust-based bullets at the rest. Fire and wind surged in his wake, leaving a ragged trail that served to separate the Grimm he'd cut off from the rest of the group, making them easy prey for the militia and volunteer sharpshooters.

A man, years younger than Summer, charged into the horde wielding a thin metal baton sparking with barely leashed flame and lightning. Every strike he made caused an explosion of elemental fury that sent numerous Grimm flying away from him, and was even enough to kill a Death Stalker in a trio of rapid strikes. His ebony cloak flared back in the wind his attacks created, revealing his strong arms and bare chest, as well as his black trousers and leather boots.

Another man, wearing a suit of brown leather armor that came up to his nose, walked calmly into the horde, swinging his six-foot-long lance around like he was wielding a short sword, and to devastating effect. Within seconds, after ending the lives of nearly two dozen lesser Grimm, he found himself facing a King Taijitu, and jumped away from its strike. As he landed, mist gathered beneath him, forming into the spectral image of a shaggy horse in mid-gallop and bearing him up into the air. His ghostly Semblance charged him towards the snake's white head, and he plunged his lance through it in a masterful display that tore it free of the serpent. His mount dispersed in a cloud of brown fog as the ripped off head dissolved, only to regather itself beneath him as he spun around in midair. His next charge killed the second head, ending one of the largest Grimm on the battlefield.

A woman, her white hair streaked through with blue and green stripes, leaped up into the sky, traveling further than Summer would've thought possible, only to stop at the same altitude as the encroaching trio of Nevermores and stay level with them, never dropping an inch. She raised an arm bearing an Amaterasu model PIP-Boy, and swiped at the avian Grimm with an overly-large metal fan; wind and sand tore free from the motion, propelled by the copious amounts of Wind and Earth Dust stitched into her green robe, and rammed into the leading Nevermore with enough force to turn its head into powder.

There were nearly a dozen of the Hunters, as Ferrer had called them, and each of their acts was just as impressive as the last. But it wasn't enough. Even though they'd shaved near a quarter their number from the Grimm horde, there were still more than six hundred of them, facing the collected force of around sixty militiamen and eighty volunteers, including the Hunters already meeting them in battle.

"Sayen!" Ferrer yelled as the Grimm drew to within a quarter mile of the town.

The woman standing next to him, slender and elegant in her soft purple gown, closed her red eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened her mouth, music began to spill out from the air around her, carrying her voice nearly half a mile away despite its heavy beat.

"I am a nation, I am a million faces

"Formed together, made for elevation

"I am a solider, I won't surrender

"Faith is like a fire that never burns to embers."

Her song filled the air with a measured beat, and Summer could feel something pressing against her mind; she wasn't worried by it, though she didn't know why until she understood what it was. The singing woman's Semblance was linking her to the rest of the fighters, making their instincts line up to face their foes in unison.

"Everyone! Attack!" Ferrer finally yelled at a break in the song, drawing a roar from every man and woman who'd gathered to fight.

"You can take my heart, you can take my breath

"When you pry it from my cold dead chest!"

Summer raised her Succubus in the exact same second as every other gunner raised their weapons, and they opened fire as a single being, a single whole. The wall of bullets tore into the Grimm as the shooters let their instincts kept them from hitting their allied swordsmen, who charged into battle with their steps in alignment.

Summer kept her shots tame by comparison to many of the other shooters, sticking to her weapon's two-shot burst mode instead of putting it to it's full-auto mode. She was in the grip of both her Semblance and that of her ancestor's, drawing upon her PIP-Boy's store of Ruby's soul to keep herself from slowing down too much from her own Semblance, and her eyes dripped with silver sparks as she upon that power as well. Every shot she made that didn't outright kill a Grimm crippled or slowed one enough for the others to take it down, so she stuck to shooting at the more threatening targets whenever possible.

Despite their unity, despite their overwhelming power, the people of Yang's Rest didn't make it through the battle unscathed. As Summer watched, a man had his Aura broken by an Ursa, which then tore its massive clawed paw into the man's chest, pulverizing his intestines and breaking bones with little care for the carnage around them. A woman was swallowed whole by a King Taijitu, her Aura having been broken by a Beowolf moments before; she didn't scream for very long.

"This is how we rise up!

"Heavy as a hurricane, louder than a freight train!

"This is how we rise up!

"Heart is beating faster, feels like thunder!"

And then the Grimm were upon them, crashing over them like a wave, and the stability fragmented. Summer still felt her instincts linked to a few, but the overwhelming mass from before was gone, so she stuck with the few who she still felt. Her Succubus was now only held in her left hand, her Harpy in her right, and she stood back to back with the LMG wielding Lei, gunning down any Grimm that drew near.

"Magic, static, call me a fanatic

"It's our world, they can never have it!"

Just as Summer thought she'd be overwhelmed by the sheer press of Grimm, a blast of concussive force slammed into the Beowolves charging at her and knocked them flat, giving her an easy time of finishing them. Without even thinking about it, she turned her weapon to the sky and fired at the Nevermore trying to attack the flying Hunter from behind, shredding through its head with her silver-augmented rounds. Summer's PIP-Boy blared out a warning that she was below thirty percent of her Aura, but she ignored it and kept on fighting.

"This is how we rise up!

"It's our resistance! You can't resist us!"

The Alpha Beowolf took her from behind, slamming its claws against her back with the force of a speeding car. Summer cried out as she was sent flying, her Aura breaking as she impacted with the ground. She pointed her shotgun at it and squeezed the trigger, only to realize that it was empty; she raised her SMG and fired, silver sparks still dripping from her eyes as the gun fired twice and clicked empty. The bullets tore into the Grimm's shoulder, ripping it from the beast with more force than they should have been able to muster.

And then the Grimm was upon her, raking its claws over her face; thanks to the Med-X she'd pilfered earlier, it felt vaguely unpleasant instead of painful, and she closed her eyes reflexively as blood streamed down her face. As the Beowolf grabbed her head, and before it slammed her against the ground, she heard a single word, which she vaguely recognized as her name. But then she was unconscious, without ever realizing just who had said it.

Alfred tore the Beowolf to pieces in her stead.

XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX

The battle had ended more than an hour ago, but Rhonwen and Haruki were still busy at the medical clinic. The two of them had needed to patch up the forty militiamen injured by Nora when she stormed through Yang's Rest, and only had three volunteers helping them.

Luckily for them, there were only three people injured in the fight with the Grimm. Unfortunately, that was because the Grimm don't tend to leave the injured alone; sixteen people were dead, and six more who'd been present for the fight were missing and assumed dead.

"Bandages," Haruki said, holding out his hand expectantly. The only volunteer still there, a rather stoic young girl who wasn't yet a teenager, handed him a nearly depleted roll of fine cotton, which he wrapped around the makeshift splint he'd been forced to construct for the sole patient who they hadn't finished treating. "Tape."

"Just cycle your Aura through the leg and get plenty of rest and calcium, and you'll be back on your feet in a few days," Rhonwen said, helping a young man with a broken leg out the door. His older sister was waiting for him, and placed his arm over her shoulders, letting Rhonwen out from under his other. "Take care!"

When Rhonwen walked back into the clinic, her forced cheer evaporated almost instantly. She walked over to the stool she'd set between Summer's and Asra's cots and practically collapsed onto it, her worry sapping what little strength her exhaustion hadn't.

Asra's jaw had fared better than she'd expected when she first saw how badly it had swollen; there was only a single break, and it didn't go all the way through the bone. Unfortunately for her, that still meant she wouldn't be able to talk or eat solid food for a few days, and that she should be really careful with it for the next few weeks.

Summer was much worse. Her face had been a ragged mess when she'd been brought in, and after clearing the wounds of the meat that the Grimm had torn free from her, Rhonwen had discovered a rather sickening fact: Summer's right eye was beyond recovery. Rhonwen had been forced to remove what was left of it, though she'd managed to save the nerve endings; she didn't really expect to find anyone capable of building or attaching a cybernetic replacement, but she figured she might as well hope.

"Thanks for the help," Haruki said, nodding at the youth who'd been helping him. "Yah can go now, Shizuka."

She nodded in return, then left the clinic, leaving the two doctors alone with more than a dozen unconscious patients.

Haruki sat at his desk with a weary sigh, letting himself rest for a minute before he got to work cataloging the clinic's remaining supplies. "Good work, Rhonwen," he said after a moment, glancing at the nearly motionless Schnee. "They'll be back on their feet in a couple days, at most."

Rhonwen glanced at him, tears trailing down her cheeks, then shook her head and looked back down at Summer. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs as she cried over one of the few real friends she'd made since her exile, thinking about what losing her eye might do to Summer's already brutalized psyche. She was a sniper, after all, who worked with firearms so much that she had an easier time learning and adapting to stress when she could handle a gun; Rhonwen wondered what Summer might do when she woke up and found out what she'd lost.

Haruki stared at Rhonwen for a moment, wondering what he could say to help her, then finally sighed again and shook his head. He turned back to his desk, ultimately resolving to let her deal with her worry on her own. Sometimes, he mused grimly, pain just needs time alone to heal.

XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX

"Twenty-two dead or missing, a dozen with debilitating injuries, and dozens more with minor injuries that will nonetheless stick with them for at least a week," Ferrer growled, resting his head in his hands as he leaned over his desk. "Volka's gone, Asra's down for the count, and Storm is missing and presumed dead. Right now, we need to show the people leadership," Ferrer continued, raising his head to look at the two people in front of him.

"Then why'd you call us here?" Alfred growled at him, crossing his arms over his chest. He was leaning against one of the bare walls of Ferrer's office, having refused the offer of the still empty chair sitting in front of the mayor's desk; as the seconds ticked by, Alfred found himself wishing more and more that he hadn't built up his unruly reputation quite so much.

"I also find myself questioning your judgement in this matter." Sayen was sitting in the other chair in front of Ferrer's desk, her legs crossed demurely. She'd taken the time to tame her frizzy red hair after the battle, and had put it into a simple ponytail to keep it tamed. "Alfred was Storm's Lieutenant, yes, but I do not believe he has the temperament to actually lead the militia, nor do I believe that I would be compatible as his Lieutenant."

"Close," Ferrer said, ignoring the growl Alfred sent Sayen's way. To her credit, she sent the donkey Faunus an annoyed look instead of quailing in fear. "Sayen, you are in charge of the militia from her on out. You have the freedom to choose your second, as long as they agree to it. And you don't choose Alfred."

Sayen blinked in surprise at the mayor, her thin lips pursing as she thought. "This is acceptable," she said after a moment, her red eyes settling on the outwardly fuming Faunus yet again. "May I ask why I cannot choose Alfred?"

"Because he is going to be in charge of the Hunters from this point on," Ferrer said, making both of his subordinates' eyes widen. "Alfred, you have the right to recruit anyone willing whom you think is capable of handling a Huntsman-class weapon. The Hunters already present in the militia will defer to your leadership over Sayen's, and you will be expected to train them as the Huntsmen of old were trained."

"Are these orders from the top?" Alfred asked.

"No. And let's not give the NCR any ideas," Ferrer said, scowling up at the ceiling. "The Hunters will be for the protection of Yang's Rest, and the people who live here. Nothing else. We're not going to let the NCR dictate what we do in our home anymore, not after today. If they had stationed soldiers here like I requested dozens of times..." Ferrer trailed off, gritting his teeth and shaking his head. "The Hunters aren't going to officially exist, Alfred. No documentation. You understand?"

"What'll you do about our funding?" Alfred asked, raising an eyebrow. "There's a limit to how many caps can go missing before people start noticing, and you need to report that shit to the NCR."

"Which is why you'll need to find volunteers," Ferrer said with a sigh. "The militia has enough training to make them easy to pull from, and their day job is mutable enough that most people wouldn't notice several of them disappearing for hours at a time or being more tired than normal. Anyone else you find will need to be self-sufficient enough to make that decision for themselves. Or have an employer that we trust implicitly."

"Funny. It almost sounds like you want me to recruit Summer Dream," Alfred commented gruffly, staring harshly at Ferrer.

"If she agrees, yes. Her and Asra both," Ferrer said. "They both fulfill vital roles in our community, and I would feel much better if today's events were not likely to repeat themselves. We cannot afford to lose them."

"With all due respect, it feels like you are putting an undue amount of value on them," Sayen pointed out. "I cannot believe that this is due to their roles in the community, and find it much easier to believe that this is because of their bloodlines. In fact, you seem to have made a point of gathering multiple bloodlines derived from Huntsmen of the old age. One might grow to surmise an ulterior motive from these actions, and the NCR would be incredibly likely to determine this is the case if its agents realize what you are doing here."

"I have not intentionally drawn the old blood to me, Sayen," Ferrer said. "That they chose to stay when offered a home was their choice, and one I give to damn near everyone who passes through. Their bloodlines are strong, yes, but remember that this town was founded by a random chance. Three of the old bloodlines, meaning myself, Asra, and Volka, met three of the new age, meaning you and your family, and we chose to stand together and protect each other. Much like your Semblance suggests, Sayen, we are stronger when we act in unison."

"You are a sentimental fool, Ferrer," Sayen said, letting out a sigh. "But you have made some good points. For now, I will continue to follow your lead. I expect there will be some confusion from the militia while we work this out, but that was likely to happen in any case."

"Anyone else you'd like to recommend for the Hunters?" Alfred asked, shifting his feet uncomfortably. He really wished he'd sat down instead of leaning against the wall. "It might shock you to hear this, but I don't exactly mingle with the townsfolk."

"Rhonwen Schnee might be a suitable choice," Ferrer began, "though I'd rather have her nearby in case we have another emergency; use your own discretion on whether or not to recruit her. Saturn Grove would likely be a more reliable option, given his recent acquisition of a Huntsman-class weapon. I hear he put it to good use during the battle, today."

"He did," Sayen said. "Though I would question exactly why he found it necessary to purchase such a weapon."

"Other than them, there's Ariel Pierce. Her Semblance lets her essentially swim through earth and stone, and she's been part of the militia for two years now. Oh, and Gregory Ramos, though you might need to correct his kleptomania if you decide to go with him. He's a solid fighter, though, and the only reason he isn't in the militia right now is because we couldn't get him to stop stealing ammunition," Ferrer said, snorting out a laugh.

"I would recommend Shizuka," Sayen said.

"She's twelve," Ferrer said, scowling at the songstress.

"Which means she has time to learn," Sayen countered. "I would remind you that you have requested Alfred teach these Hunters as the Huntsmen of old were taught, and the Huntsmen of old were trained from their youth in the art of war. My daughter is mentally stable enough to partake in such training, and I would personally feel relieved knowing she can defend herself if it she has need to."

"I'll ask, but you'd better not try to persuade her," Alfred growled at Sayen. "I've had enough of child soldiering for a lifetime."

Sayen's eyes softened, and she bowed her head to him. "Yes, I suppose you would. You have my apologies if I have offended you, Alfred."

"There's one other thing," Ferrer said, shaking his head. "The Hunters will need code names and identity-concealing gear to keep themselves from being identified. I'd recommend you settle that with them as quickly as you can, once you recruit them."

"Of course," Alfred said, rolling his eyes. "Are we done here?"

"Yes, but keep your PIP-Boy on. I might need to speak with you again in the near future. Sayen, we'll need to announce your new status to the militia before long if we want to keep this orderly. Inform them that we'll be meeting at the town hall tomorrow at eight a.m."

"Yes, sir."

XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX

The funeral was held the next day, and every last person in Yang's Rest was in attendance, even those still recovering from their injuries. A massive pyre had been built nearly a mile east of the town, and the dead that had been found were lain atop stretchers made from woven bark. Tears fell en masse from the crowd, both in silence and in agonized sobs, as they grieved their fallen friends and family.

"Today, we honor the brave men and women who sacrificed their lives to preserve our own," Ferrer said, standing in front of the pyre. His back was to the roaring flame, and the heat was beginning to become painful for him, but he bore with it. "To keep their spirits from wallowing in the darkness the Grimm bring with them, we consign their bodies to the flames, showing them the way out from the dark and allowing them to take the path that leads to the light. May they rest peacefully hereafter."

Summer shivered, her fever making her seem to be at once too cold and too hot. She leaned further into Asra's embrace, trying not to jostle the older woman's bandaged jaw. Their faces were so covered by white bandages that they were quite nearly unrecognizable; only their outfits marked who they were, Summer's red cloak and Asra's black coat standing out in the sea of black formal wear that their fellow citizens were wearing. Asra's bandages were mostly to keep her from moving her jaw too much, but Summer's were there for two reasons: first, to help prevent infection in the still-healing wounds that the Beowolf had left on her face; and second, to preserve her self-image until she'd had a chance to heal.

"Unfortunately, there were some who were not found after the battle," Ferrer continued, closing his eyes and turning his head to the ground. "I will not attempt to keep your hopes up for them returning, given the world we live in, but there is a chance, however slim, that they may yet live and simply be displaced from us for the time being. For now, however, we will mourn their loss as we would their deaths.

"Among the missing is Storm Bright, the leader of our militia and one of my dearest friends," Ferrer continued, letting out a silent, melancholic sigh. "There will be tough times ahead, for all of us, but I believe that we can make it through this together. To that end, I have appointed Sayen Mays as leader of the militia in his stead. Her Semblance truly embodies the spirit of togetherness that we will need to see us through the coming hardships."

There were a few quiet murmurs through the crowd, but they ended abruptly when Alfred, standing at Ferrer's left, nodded his head approvingly.

"And now, we shall remember those we've lost, the people who protected us with their very lives."

Ferrer listed off their names, one at a time, and waited until the team of six volunteers had lifted their corresponding body's stretcher and borne it into the flaming pyre behind him before he said the next.

To Summer's shock, one of the names Ferrer said was familiar to her: Clarissa Fade, the utterly gorgeous waitress with a voice that could make a deaf man scream in pain. Her body had been covered in a ragged blanket, but her head was intact; her mouth was twisted open, and her glassy eyes had been tight with terror and pain when she'd died. When the pole-bearers placed her into the flames, the blanket shifted, revealing the ragged mess that the Grimm had made of her torso.

Once the bodies had all been placed on the pyre, Ferrer listed off the names of the missing, including Storm Bright and Volka Locke. The announcement that one of the town's founders was among the missing was met with mute shock by the crowd, the fact that their lives could be cut short suddenly seeming much more real to them.

"I know the pain that you're all feeling," Ferrer said, swallowing at the lump that had appeared in his throat after saying Volka's name. "The tightness in your chests, the ache in your hearts and souls. But we need to remember why they died, the sacrifice they made to defend all of us. We need to honor their lives by continuing to live for them, to have more stories to tell them when we eventually meet them all again in the next life. Until then, we need to keep living and keep learning, for their sake as well as our own. May the gods watch over us all."

With that, Ferrer walked away from the still burning flames, only to turn and face them when he reached the edge of the crowd. Alfred did the same, his steps silent over the gritty, dust-covered ground. The only sounds to be heard for several minutes were the crackling of flame and the choked sobs of those mourning their loved ones.

The crowd started to disperse before long, eager to leave the dead behind them. Summer turned to look at Rhonwen when the doctor put a hand on her shoulder, shifting Asra's attention to her as well. The three of them left together, heading back to the medical clinic where Summer would be spending her next few days under observation.

Smoke rose into the air behind them as they walked in silence, the pain of having lost one of their own hanging over them. There were no longer four descendants of the old team RWBY.

Now, there were but three.

XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX

And that's the end of chapter 10. I hope you enjoyed it.

Also, holy shit. Volume 4 comes out soon! I wonder if there'll be any more trailers like the one we got so far. (At the time of writing, only one (featuring Ruby) has come out.)

Now for the song piece. I remembered it this time!

The Resistance (Skillet) [Given the nature of the fight with the Grimm horde, I felt this would be a good way to introduce Sayen's Semblance and reduce the number of casualties that Yang's Rest would take] {In this story, the song was written and composed by Sayen, along with several other songs of a similar nature, in order for her to use with her Semblance.}

Okay, I think that's everything! I actually remembered everything this time! Yay!

I can't wait to realize I forgot something and need to come back to edit it!

Edit: Mother fucker! I put funereal instead of funeral! At least I didn't forget anything this time, but unholy fuck I hate this! Why is funereal even a word?!