The past week or so had been absolutely insane, and Nora was all for it. Their investigation had been a total blast from start to finish, and they'd actually managed to capture an infamous criminal! Sure, Ruby had intercepted a sinister message from someone who had to be his boss, they still weren't sure who exactly Shoulder was or how she factored into everything, and there was an as-yet-unexplained connection between Torchwick and the White Fang, but Torchwick wasn't going to be bothering anyone anytime soon.

With that out of the way, though, Nora could get back to something that had been bothering her for a while. Namely...

"Dove," she declared, slamming her hands down on the nearest desk. "We gotta do something."

He was, as usual after stressful events, hiding in the library under a stack of books. The weirdo actually did homework to relax—not that Nora was judging him, exactly, but it was definitely weird. Either way, it was just her, Yang, and Russel in the dorm, and she was not going to let this opportunity slip by!

"Do something about what?" Russel asked.

Nora and Yang glared at him until he said, "Oh," and started nodding. "That. Yeah, even I noticed that."

That was something that had come up during what Ruby insisted on calling their debriefing. They'd discussed possible identities of Shoulder—the same as Torchwick's mysterious boss? Sky thought so—speculated on how he got his hands on Atlesian Paladins—he stole them, duh!—and then Russel had brought up the White Fang symbol on said Paladins and wondered aloud why the heck they'd be working for Torchwick. As Ruby had put it, "He's human and he has pretty much nothing to do with Faunus Rights."

Dove had shrugged. "They don't need a reason to lash out."

From there the conversation had gotten so awkward so quickly that Russel had eventually just left the room, dragging their leader along behind him.

So. They were taking action—as soon as they figured out what to do.

"We could ask Velvet again," Nora said, then sighed. "Okay, no, never mind."

"Maybe if we find someone else?" Yang shrugged. "I just... can't actually think of anyone."

"I've got it." Nora nodded to herself. "We'll drag him to the movies, and cover his eyes so he doesn't realize where we're going, and then we pick something with a great Faunus lead like—"

"Or," Russel cut in, "We could just talk to him like normal people."

There was a moment of shocked silence.

"Boring," Nora said eventually, "but probably true."

It was most definitely not an intervention. In the interest of making sure Dove was comfortable, Nora had made some coffee for her teammates but not for herself. Yang brought snacks. Russel took one look at the room and started laughing, at which point Nora stepped on his foot. Their leader walked in right about when he was loudly proclaiming that not-interventions should have better food. Dove stared.

"Ah," he said eventually. "I'm going to... study. Again."

"Wait!" Nora reached out to grab his arm, then thought better of it. "Just ignore that last part, it's really not an intervention."

"Okay..."

"We just wanted to talk to you, because you said some stuff that we think maybe we were misinterpreting or something—" Yang nudged her with an elbow, and she cut herself off. "Right. So..."

"Do you hate Faunus?" Russel asked.

"Russ!" Nora shot him a betrayed look.

"What? I'm asking the question!"

Dove was giving her a really puzzled look, now. "Are... is there a reason you're asking? Because I've heard that some Faunus are human-passing, but–"

"No," Nora said, "That's not it and darn it I totally should have said yes, shouldn't I? Because we were trying to find someone nice for you to talk to so that you'd see that they're just people, but Velvet didn't want to do it."

Yang winced. "I think pretending to be a Faunus is probably a bad idea, Nora."

"Yeah, okay, but still!" Nora pointed a finger at Dove. "We're getting side-tracked!"

"This is why you kept acting so weird!" he burst out. "Thank god."

"Uh, what?" Russel did a double take. "What did you think we were doing?"

"All I knew was that the damage potential depended on me and that Nora didn't want me to die alone. I was worried you'd decided to set me up with someone."

Nora scoffed. "Why would I care about that? Ren's single, and he's awesome."

"Wait, what do you mean Ren's—"

"That's not the point!" Her teammates were giving her weird looks now, the jerks. "You still didn't answer the question!"

"Oh, right." Dove nodded. "No, I don't hate them."

There was a moment of hesitation. "Well..." Nora said, shifting from foot to foot. "When you said that Velvet was timid because of genetics..."

Dove stared blankly at her. "Yes?"

"Well, did that just come out wrong or what?"

"It's true," he said, nonchalant. "It's not her fault or anything. I certainly don't hate her."

"There's nothing that backs that up, though," Yang insisted.

Dove raised an eyebrow. "You mean... aside from cats chasing laser pointers, and dogs hanging out in groups, and horses liking to run?"

"Not everyone is like that, though!" Nora protested.

"I'm sure there are outliers, but in most cases they're emotionally volatile and act instinctively." He spread his hands, as if helpless to refute this. "I'm sorry if that bothers you, but it's true. I'm going to study." And with that, he left.

"So," Russel said cheerfully. "That went well." Yang picked up a pillow and threw it at his head. "Hey!"

"Why'd you blurt it out like that?" she demanded.

"We decided to ask him, so I asked him! It's not my fault it didn't go as planned!"

Yang sighed. "Okay, okay, you're right. I'm sorry. But seriously, have you ever even heard of tact?"

Russel grinned. "Nope."

Sky hadn't exactly meant to start brooding. It was never a good look on him, mostly because even he knew he was way too much of a dork to pull it off properly without ending up all pouty or whiny. Still, after the third time he spaced out during their Sunday post-debriefing training session—he had no idea why almost getting killed taking down a crime lord called for more friendly sparring instead of a break, but maybe this was just how Ruby celebrated—he was pretty sure all his teammates had noticed.

"You need to keep your weapon up," Ren told him, gently nudging it with one of his guns. Sky did a double take.

"Oh," he said. "Right."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Sky glanced in Ruby and Pyrrha's direction. They were both staring at him. He blushed.

"Sorry."

Ruby gave Pyrrha a little nudge and started a whole nonverbal conversation—Maybe you could—No, it's probably best if you do it—But I don't know how—You're his leader—and eventually she sighed and said, "Um. What's wrong?"

Sky winced. He kind of wanted to say, 'Nothing!' but he knew he wouldn't be fooling anyone. "I'm just... still not any good at this," he mumbled, scuffing the ground with his toe. "You know. Fighting. Heroism. All that."

Ren blinked. "You did volunteer as bait for a Paladin," he pointed out.

"And without your help, we probably never would have found him," Pyrrha added.

Sky flushed again. "Oh. Well, maybe? It's only that... I was picturing this big heroic moment where I'd stop wanting to run away. Instead I just kind of felt nauseous the whole time."

Ren smiled a little at that. "I think I should tell you about how I first met Nora."

If Sky had been expecting anything, it definitely hadn't been that. "Uh... okay?"

"She was alone in the village where I lived, being picked on by a few of the other children."

Sky was pretty sure he knew where this was going.

"I watched. I wanted them to leave her alone, but I didn't do anything."

Okay, he definitely hadn't known where this was going.

"It's not something I'm proud of, but my—someone helped me realize that my inaction was wrong. The next time I saw her, in the middle of the Grimm attack, I went over to her. We helped each other."

Sky nodded dumbly. It was easy to forget just how intense the bond between Ren and Nora actually was. Fire-forged felt like a gross understatement.

Ren hesitated. "My point is that... the first time I didn't help her. The second time I did. But it wasn't that I stopped being afraid. Quite the opposite—the Grimm were far scarier than a few boys my own age. Fear is natural. It's what we do about it that matters."

Pyrrha nodded at that. "He's right." She smiled, a little embarrassed. "Before my first tournament, I was so nervous I was worried I might pass out. It took me almost fifteen minutes to open my locker because my hands were shaking."

"Yeah." Ruby shifted a little, drawing her cloak closer to herself. "I mean, pretty much my whole family are Hunters. So... I guess I grew up with a weird attitude towards the Grimm. By the time I was old enough to be scared of them my uncle was teaching me how to kill them. But my mom died fighting them, too. Even a really skilled fighter only has to be unlucky once. It's scary, but I've always wanted to be a Huntress, so... I just kinda have to work around that."

"Thanks." The word felt wholly inadequate. "For... I mean..."

"You're welcome," Ren said, smiling. Sky had the sense that they'd understood, and that if they kept talking someone would inevitably put their foot in their mouth—probably him. He let it drop and enjoyed a companionable silence. Though, really, the word 'enjoy' didn't do it justice. The company was wonderful and the implied forgiveness had left him feeling a bit like someone had injected him with helium. Well, figuratively speaking.

So, fine. He wasn't a fighter—that had been obvious long before day one of Beacon. In fact he was pretty sure that he could pinpoint the exact date he'd found that out as the one when, as a four year old, he'd picked up a toy sword and promptly lost a duel to a cardboard box with an angry Grimm face drawn on it in sharpie.

That was fine. He was smart, and he could still be useful in coming up with ideas or in doing research. There was more to hunting than swinging weapons around—he could remember the Grimm's weaknesses, he was researching quite a few oddly specific recipes for setting off explosions with raw Dust, and he knew about history and how past wars had started and maybe even how they might be prevented. He was scared, often so much so that he could barely move or think or breathe, but he'd stood his ground this last time. He wasn't going to leave his team again. He could be... well, he could be the plastic floatie. Their caution, when they dove headfirst into danger. And that, too, had worth.

Weiss hated being injured. For one thing, it turned a five-hour walk from the Grimm's den to the White Fang base into a two-day walk back. It also meant her Aura wasn't as strong as it normally would be—it was busy healing. But what stung worse than the gash itself was the fact that she'd been stuck in the center of the formation like a civilian the rest of them were trying to escort.

"You can still help," Jaune pointed out. "Your semblance is useful for support, and I get the feeling we're going to need that."

"I could help by killing Grimm," Weiss snapped.

"Well, yeah, but not without making your leg worse."

He had a point, but honestly? After hiking somewhere around fifteen miles on the stupid thing, the damage was probably done. It wasn't infected—thanks more to her Aura than the ad-hoc balaclava bandage—but it would scar, badly. Camille had told her this with the air of someone delivering earth-shattering news, which made Weiss wonder if she'd somehow missed the one over her eye.

She opened her mouth to argue some more, but Blake gave her a pleading look and she dropped it. Mostly. She had to stay behind Cardin, but she did not have to like it. Or refrain from complaining about it.

Their escort was the same Huntsman that had dealt with Jaune and Cardin. Weiss probably would have guessed that even if he hadn't told them—he had the look of someone who had just mediated a lot of petty squabbling, a mixture between frustration and disappointment. His name was Mr. Corduroy, and he irked her for reasons that probably stemmed from a bad first impression with her two teammates. Namely, he treated all four of them like they had no idea what they were doing.

"I'm going to be hands-off to start," he said, resting the end of his massive kite shield on the ground as he talked. "But this mission is... a bit advanced. There are a lot of Grimm in there, and most of them are Creeps. They're known for—"

"Burrowing," Weiss said.

Corduroy looked a bit taken aback by that. "Well, yes. That means they might come through walls and floors. The rest are Beowolves, from what the scout told us. Remember that this is challenging but not time sensitive, so if you four need to you can always just retreat, regroup elsewhere in the woods, and then go back in when you're ready. I'll be right outside the whole time, and I'll be in contact on Jaune's scroll if you need me. If any of your Auras hit red, you're out. That goes double for you." He pointed at Weiss. She glowered at him.

Blake looked a bit irritated, too, but she didn't say anything. Corduroy pointed out the front door. Weiss tried to hide her limp as she followed Jaune towards the entrance.

It was impressive. Even having grown up in the Schnee manor, she could appreciate the architecture—there was a set of wide wooden double-doors, beautifully carved, sheltered by stone columns. Jaune led the way inside, followed by Cardin and Weiss. Blake brought up the rear.

The inside was dim, lit only by stained-glass windows that dyed the interior of the entrance hall a thousand colors. Under their feet, a slightly moth-eaten carpet stretched from wall to wall. The moment they walked through the door, they were surrounded by empty suits of armor. Weiss eyed them suspiciously as they passed.

Jaune pushed open a door at the end of the entrance hall, one that led into a corridor wide enough for all four of them to walk side-by-side. Deep shadows clung to the walls in regular intervals, pooling between iron chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. Weiss scanned them for any sign of the Grimm, but they were empty.

"Somehow it's creepier when nothing tries to kill me," Jaune observed. "Maybe I've been hanging out with Brine and Raspberry too much."

"You're not wrong." Weiss tightened her grip on her rapier. "If they aren't here, it means they're congregating somewhere. Creeps aren't usually intelligent enough to set traps, but if one of them is really old..."

Cardin snorted derisively and shouldered his mace. "Are you three girls done fretting, or can we get on with it and find something to kill?"

"Cardin," Jaune warned.

"Would you prefer we stopped attempting strategy?" Weiss demanded.

She must have struck a nerve, because Cardin whirled around and hefted his mace. "Stop," Jaune ordered. "Both of you. No arguing until we're done here, got it?"

Cardin muttered something under his breath, but he obeyed. Weiss glared at the backs of both their heads. It didn't occur to her until minutes later to be impressed that Jaune had gotten his partner to actually listen to him.

"I'm not hearing anything," Corduroy said through Jaune's scroll. "What's going on?"

"We haven't run into any Grimm yet," Jaune reported. "Just a lot of empty space."

There was silence for a moment. Then, eventually, "That's not good."

"It's boring," Cardin complained.

Corduroy ignored him completely. "We sent a scout in about two weeks ago, just after the place was overrun, and he said the Grimm were fairly spread out. We've been expecting them to move on since they've killed everyone inside, but it wouldn't have happened this quickly."

"They're gathering together, then," Weiss said.

"Probably. But what could—"

"Survivors." Blake had stopped walking, and now that Weiss knew what to look for she thought she could see her bow twitching. "That's the only reason I can think of that they'd ignore us like this."

"Wait." Jaune looked about ready to panic. "How would someone still be alive in here? Corduroy said it's been two weeks!"

"We'll have to find out," Weiss said. "We could split up in partner pairs to look for groups of Grimm."

Blake shook her head. "There'd be no way to keep you from fighting in close quarters like that. Your leg—"

"Isn't hurt badly enough that I can't fight if it means saving someone!"

"Stay together." Corduroy's voice was clipped, as if he was trying very hard not to sound anxious. "I'm going in through the back to help search. You four keep doing what you're doing. Alert me if you get into trouble, or if you find someone."

"Right." Jaune took a few deep breaths. "If you guys were civilians stuck here during a Grimm attack, where would you go?"

Weiss didn't have to imagine anything—she'd been drilled on almost exactly that as a child. It was the White Fang rather than the Grimm, but the principal was the same. "There should be a panic room somewhere," she said. "Maybe the basement?" That was where it was in the Schnee manor, anyway.

"Let's look for stairs, then." Jaune broke into a run. Weiss could match his pace, though the effort of it sent spikes of pain up and down her bad leg. Blake shot her a worried glance, but she wasn't going to complain about it now when someone might be under attack.

They rushed down one hallway, turned a corner, and encountered their first Grimm. It was a lone Creep, shuffling through a doorway. The monster turned to look at them. Jaune, the one at the front of their group, rushed forward and slashed at it. The attack was inelegant and clumsy, but he did manage to kill it. When they looked at where it had been going before it saw them, they found the stairwell.

Weiss quickly found that descending stairs was much harder than walking on level ground. About halfway down she lost her grip on the railing and all her weight came down on her bad leg. She cried out, then caught hold of the wall and steadied herself. Blake gave her another look, which she ignored.

The foot of the staircase led into a much more dimly lit section of the castle, which was saying something. Weiss almost asked Blake if she could see anything threatening, then remembered that Jaune and Cardin were there and kept her mouth shut. They passed more suits of armor and a tasteful painting. Then, without warning, Blake hissed, "I hear them." The four of them all went on high alert and crept forward, weapons at the ready. Around the next corner, they finally saw the Grimm.

A whole horde of Creeps was massed in the hallway, with the occasional Beowolf sticking up out of the press. They were arrayed in front of a huge metal door, like one you might see at a bank vault, and the Creeps in the front were busy trying to burrow through or around it. The walls of the panic room looked like concrete, webbed through with steel reinforcement—that was probably the only thing that had protected whoever was inside this long. They were on their last legs, though, cracked and pitted and gnawed almost all the way through in places.

"We found the Grimm, they're in the basement," Jaune told Corduroy. Then he raised his shield and glanced in her direction. "Weiss! Can you hit them with some fire?"

She shook her head. "I don't know how insulated that room is. We might bake whoever's inside. Same problem with energy. Ice or earth would block the way, which we don't want to do unless the fight goes sour."

"Okay." He smashed his sword and shield together, and the Creeps turned towards them as one mass. "Hey! Come get us!"

He, Cardin, and Blake spread out to cover the hallway, with Weiss behind them. Irritated, she started forming glyphs here and there to cover openings in their defenses. Most of those went to Cardin—Jaune had his shield and Blake had skill.

Cardin was flailing at the masses of Creeps, but he wasn't killing them quickly enough. They were piling up in front of him, pushing him back, and Jaune and Blake had to follow to keep them from getting through. Weiss spun the chamber of her rapier to energy and formed a haste glyph under his feet. He made a little yelp of surprise as it took effect that she probably would have laughed at if someone's life wasn't on the line, then started mowing the monsters down.

"Almost there!" Jaune shouted.

The haste glyph on Cardin ran out. He stumbled, and one of the Beowolves lunged forward and shot past him. Blake turned as if to attack it. "Stay there," Weiss snapped. A claw swept down toward her face, and she ducked under it. Her leg buckled, but she managed to shove the point of her rapier through the monster's throat before she fell. Her knees hit the floor. It was almost like she imagined being struck by lightning must feel—an instant of paralysis followed by shooting pain. Then it passed, and she lurched clumsily to her feet.

"Fine," she gritted out, when she noticed Blake and Jaune sneaking worried glances at her. "Focus on the Grimm."

There weren't that many left, now. Four Creeps, one Beowolf. Weiss didn't really need to do anything more, but she pinned down one of the Creeps with a glyph so that Cardin could kill it without looking quite so idiotic. Jaune took the Beowolf. The rest were picked off by Blake.

In the end they stood together in an empty hallway, panting. Weiss was trying to hide the shaking in her bad leg. The cut probably hadn't reopened, she still had her Aura, but it did not appreciate being jarred like that. Finally Jaune got enough of his breath back to say, "Clear."

"Excellent," Corduroy said. He sounded like he was trying hard to hide his surprise. "I'll be with you—" There was a muffled crash from the other end of the line, and Weiss thought she could hear its echo somewhere above them. "—soon as I can. Geist."

"A what?" Jaune asked.

"Possession Grimm," Weiss answered automatically. "Animates rocks, tree branches... suits of armor, sometimes."

Blake frowned. "Port hasn't covered them, yet."

"They're more common in Mistral. I saw a mention of them later in the textbook." She hadn't.

Cardin groaned. "Enough of the nerdy crap and let's get on with it!"

They approached the vault door. The Creeps had gnawed almost the whole way through it, as well as most of the wall. Weiss shuddered at the thought of being trapped underground in a small room as the Grimm slowly and methodically chewed through steel and concrete. Never sleeping, never resting. Probably making noises at night.

Jaune reached out and knocked on the door—shave-and-a-haircut, of all things. "Um, hello?" he called out. "You're safe now, okay? We're Hunters-in-training, the Grimm out here are gone. Can we come in?"

There was only silence.

"We just want to get you out of here," he tried. "That's good, right? You can come with us to Vale, then take an airship somewhere else if you want."

Blake moved over to the wall, and hissed in a breath at what she saw. Weiss leaned over her shoulder to look. There was a hole about the size of a grapefruit where the Grimm had tunneled all the way through. Inside she could see metal shelves full of food, empty cans scattered across the floor, bare concrete walls, and a haphazard pile of books that looked like they'd been knocked over. In the far corner lay a bundle of blankets. Jaune knocked again, and they twitched.

"This place won't hold up much longer," Blake said gently. "Please, can you come out?"

Another twitch. A rustling of cloth. A head poked out from under the blankets—a small head, long-haired and red-faced from crying. A child.

"I don't know how to open it," she said, sniffling.

"I can help with that," Weiss said. "Can you look at the other side of the door for me?"

The child nodded, then moved towards the door. She kept the blankets wrapped around her as she went—they highlighted just how tiny she was. She couldn't have been more than six or seven. "There's a wheel," she said.

"Good. It's designed so that you don't need a lot of strength to turn it."

"Which way?"

Weiss bit her lip, trying to remember. The one she'd drilled with had been different—there'd been a series of levers that changed how the weight of the door was distributed, all very high tech and, in her opinion, likely to malfunction at inconvenient times. "Right," she guessed.

There was a scraping noise and then a click. She and Blake left the hole in the wall and came up behind the others. Jaune gave the door a gentle push. Nothing happened. Then he shoved harder and it began to slide open. Standing in the room just behind it was the child, shivering despite the blankets. There was a space heater in one corner of the room she hadn't been able to see before, but it obviously wasn't working.

Something was odd, though. The blankets behind her were shifting around, making rumpling noises. When the girl took a little step back, Weiss caught a glimpse of the reason—a bushy raccoon tail, one that was twitching nervously.

Cardin made a noise of disgust. "We rushed for this?"

"Cardin!" Jaune shouted, incredulous. "What's wrong with you?!"

"What? I'm just saying—"

The little girl retreated into one corner of the room, squishing herself between the shelves and one wall. Weiss moved towards her, and she whimpered in fear. Blake cast a glance at Cardin, then chewed on her lip. Slowly, hands shaking, she reached up and tugged her bow loose. Jaune gaped. Cardin choked on his own spit mid-argument.

"It's okay," she said softly, taking small steps forward. "We're not going to hurt you."

The little girl curled up, hands around her knees, but she let her approach. Blake knelt down in front of her. She reached out, stopping with her hand outstretched. When the girl didn't flinch away, she laid it on her shoulder. "What's your name?"

"Dahlia."

"Well, Dahlia, how about we get out of here?" The little girl lunged forward and wrapped both arms around Blake's neck. She shifted her arm under her knees and stood up, with Dahlia still clinging to her.

Weiss was staring. Warmth bloomed in her stomach just looking at them, like she'd swallowed a mouthful of hot tea. She didn't want to call it adorable, because they were still in a castle full of Grimm and this was serious, but it was.

She'd never been very good with children, but she tried to imagine what Winter might have done when they were younger. "Don't mind Cardin," she found herself saying conspiratorially. "Nobody likes him very much." She mustered a smile. Dahlia stared at her for a moment, face half-hidden in Blake's hair. Then she reached out and poked Weiss in the face.

"Hey!" she yelped. Blake had the nerve to laugh at her.

Unfortunately, Cardin chose that moment to remind them of his existence by jabbing a finger at Blake. "I'm not working with that."

She turned so that her body was between Dahlia and him, glaring. Weiss stepped in front of them. "Your petty issues can wait, Cardin."

"Petty? Petty?!" His face went a nasty shade of burgundy. Then his eyes widened. "Hang on. You knew, didn't you?!" Behind them, Dahlia whimpered.

"Yes," she said, "I did, and you can do all the yelling and carrying on you like, later."

He reached out and shoved her. Normally she would have just laughed at him, but when she tried to step back and keep her balance her leg flared up and she stumbled.

"That's enough." Jaune's voice was sharp, cutting through their argument like the crack of a whip. "Cardin? If you won't work with Blake, you're going to have to leave Beacon. I'm not on your side, Weiss is obviously not on your side, and the administration won't be on your side. So. Leave, or deal with it. I don't care. As long as you focus, right now, because if something happens to us or that kid because you are acting like a jerk..." he left the implied threat hanging. Weiss wondered if that was because he couldn't think of anything in time.

She half-expected Cardin to try to shove her again, or punch Jaune. Instead he gritted his teeth, seething, and muttered, "Fine. Later."

Dahlia was whimpering. Blake rubbed her back and said, "It's okay. We've got you." She didn't seem convinced—Weiss couldn't exactly blame her. Still, even Cardin was probably an improvement considering she'd been surrounded by Grimm for the past... god, two weeks?

"Let's go," Weiss suggested. "The sooner, the—"

Scrape. She froze in midsentence, then slowly panned her head down to stare at the ground. A low rumble started somewhere below them. Then, part of the floor trembled. Flakes of concrete fell away, and Weiss could hear them skittering down an incline. They kept going for a long, long time.

"Tunnels," she breathed. "They weren't just coming in from the sides, they—"

"We gotta go," Jaune said. "Now!"

But there was an opening in the floor of the hallway outside, too. Creeps poured out of it, and behind them... black scales, red eyes, foot-long fangs. A King Taijitu. Jaune leapt forward and slammed the vault door shut. Even as he did so, shuffling noises began to emanate from the hole in the floor. Weiss twisted her hand and closed it with a glyph, just in time for the thick skull of a Creep to bounce off it.

"Mr. Corduroy!" Jaune shouted. "There were more of them, further underground! We're stuck in a panic room with a little girl, and there's a hole in the floor they're trying to get through!"

"Damn it. I'm still—ah!—still caught up. Give me five minutes."

Five minutes. Weiss flinched as something bashed into the underside of her glyph. A clawed arm thrust itself through the hole in the wall. Five minutes was a long time, in these circumstances.

Dahlia began to wail.