Glory:

"Thanks, I'll be good." Glory said, smiling at the woman who had helped her reach a box of granola bars down from a shelf. She was relieved that she had found someone nearby who was willing to help. Last time she had to traipse about looking for assistance someone had decided to put back all the things she had managed to get down on her own. That was an extra half hour tacked onto shopping she really hadn't been interested in spending.

The lady hesitated before smiling politely and walking away. Once she was gone Glory rested her right foot against the basket she was holding her groceries in and gave it a solid kick. The black basket slid easily across the linoleum with a satisfying swish before grating to a stop three feet away. Following behind it with a consistent set of soft punts the woman made swift time over to the checkouts where there was a small line.

She tapped her foot while waiting to set her basket on the belt and ignored the odd look that was shot her way. Even in Braemor there were a few people who weren't used to seeing her without her armor on, and those people tended to be surprised that she managed in the patrol rim as she did.

When she got a chance to put her stuff up she hooked her foot under the basket handle and lifted it up and onto the belt. It was hard to do it in the cramped space, but she was able to manage it without having to stretch too much. Bringing her left knee to her chest she was able to bring her ankle up high enough to plop the basket upright.

Small victories. She mused to herself before returning to tapping her toes on the ground, her shoes clicking neatly against the tile. Hopefully she could get back to Junior's before sundown.

In Forever Fall

Standing with their foot on the chest of a White Fang marauder a Vanguard lit a cigar and placed it between their lips. The man was grizzly, his face coarse and dirty, his red beard darkened by the combined effects of ash, sweat, and dirt. He furrowed his brows as he took a long drag before puffing it out through his nose, the soreness in his chest causing a twinge of pain to shoot up his side. He ignored it, or at least tried to as he leaned further forwards.

A pealing scream broke down into a mewl when he laid his full weight against the marauder's chest, the bruised ribs no doubt an unpleasant sensation against the lungs. Her blood was indistinguishable against the red foliage of the forest, the effect blending her into the ground. The vanguard looked down and met the woman's eyes before tapping the ash off the end of the cigar and onto the wet soil beside her head.

"Iee give ye tree seconds'a repeat what y sed a me." He warned, his accent thick. "Ee lass don gat ya troat unde er boot but ii do. Bes speak spee'ii."

The woman grimaced as she cast her eyes between the man who had her literally under his boot and the armored malevolence which stood beside him. She couldn't see the 'ee lass', only the metal arm which hung out from under the cloak they wore.

The dwarf atop her had singled her out of the trees above and knocked her and her company out with a hefty kick far beyond his size. She didn't know where the others were, if they survived or if they had been caught in the same bare-knuckle brawl that had left her with a broken nose and what felt like a collapsed lung. She hid her pain well, she thought at least – especially considering the man's less than gentle care of her broken collarbone.

"Easy," The hooded one said, laying her hand on the man's shoulder. "I can do the rest."

The man grunted before leaning back and stepping away. "Su yasel."

Kneeling down on one knee the hooded woman inspected the marauder from behind the shadow of her cloak. She said nothing for a moment before shifting forward with one hand out and placing it on the woman's throat. Not too heavily that the woman would have any more trouble breathing, but with enough force that it was uncomfortable.

"Tell me, do you want to live?"

The question was simple, but for some reason the Marauder found herself choked. In her mind, above all other things, above the sensation of pain and the hatred of her opponent was the question, and a choice.

Do I answer, and when I do, speak the truth.

Those were her choices and in this clear moment, above the pain and ignoring responsibilities even after death, she choked out the word, quiet as death.

"Yes."

When she answered it was like a salve, and she felt immediately better. No longer was the sensation of her lungs being crushed overwhelming her senses. No longer was the cold creeping in from the loss of blood taking the spirit out of her voice. She felt calm, at peace, and warm.

"Good." The hooded woman crooned, leaning forward and brushing the dirtied hair out of the woman's face. "Then you will come with me, and follow the man to the camp, and wait for me there. Will you not?"

"I will." The marauder replied, the act continuing to sate the pain. Her mind was too clouded with the anesthetic of words to realize that the influence was unnatural, and that the hooded woman had successfully slain all of her comrades leaving only her alive to be controlled. That might come later, with the clarity of pain returned to her bones. But for now, she was willing.

The man turned back to the hooded woman and cleared his throat. "A ye shore is is a gid idea?"

"It will be fine. She will resist going into shock until you get back to the encampment. If she awakens you should be able to suppress it with your Aura." Now that the White Fang member was under the influence she was willing to remove her hood, to reveal the bald head of Njala. "Riel isn't going to be happy with this, but I want to know what their plan was at Amity."

"Te Braem do't ge in wi' Kindam business, ye kno tha." The Vanguard replied, shaking his head.

"That's why we're going to keep this a secret." Njala replied. "They somehow found an illusionist and have broken past the high security infrastructure Atlas used. If they can do that, they have become quite a bit more dangerous than anyone expected."

"Ae…" The man reached down and picked the woman up, slinging her over his shoulder. "I'y get 'er te Jophiel, see what ee can do."

"I'll be there in a few days." Njala scratched her scalp before pulling her hood back up. "But are you sure you can be all the way out here without raising any concerns, Ghato?"

The man turned and smiled a toothy grin. "They're used ta me lateness. I'y be fine."

"Even so, Good Luck."

And the two parted ways.

Beowolf:

Even if the theory of what the woman had explained to it days ago wasn't exactly settling in, the Grimm absorbed all it was seeing from the bouts like a sponge. As it didn't know the fatal human flaws of 'sleep' or 'hunger' it could sit in a corner and watch the matches completely still for days at a time. The only times it really had to move were when Oobleck came along with an experiment (something which was quite rare given his key role as MC) or when the woman came by to talk. Or more accurately she spoke at it, the Beowolf still lacked any efficient means of communication aside from its crude iconography (something which was apparently far too slow for the woman as she rolled her eyes when it tried to respond).

The 'theory' she had been talking about made sense in a 'big concepts' sort of way, though it lacked a lot of punch. From what it understood she was talking about human or faunus which were meant to survive enemies far greater than them. To stall or maim grimm that would otherwise overrun a settlement, basically. While the bit about saving humans from their mortal enemies wasn't exactly the most relevant information, she had elaborated on how it might be able to fight differently.

As Grimm such as the Beowolf develop defenses naturally there wasn't much conscious thought going in to how it might be able to use them in the future. When it stopped the dust grenade from going off it was a reaction, something it knew it could do, not that it had necessarily planned. But with the woman, Njala she said her name as, maybe it could do more with it.

She had already explained – though it didn't much make sense – how humans managed their feats of strength. The ordeal of listening was made easier by the way she could force words to make sense, though that didn't mean that the Beowolf had internalized the finer points of auras and semblances.

For now, it understood that its allies – Red, Black, White, and Yellow – all had auras of a color that it couldn't see, as well as special abilities born of it. Red was particularly fast, Yellow was strong, Black could create clones, and White could create… Magic circles.

It had seen as much during the fight that the four of them had in the coliseum between them and another group of four. Red and White made sense to the Beowolf because they were scales of normal abilities of humans. Back when it saw Yellow for the first time it saw her launch a human machine which was several times larger than her and made out of steel. That was acceptable, and so was the fact that Red could move so quickly.

The magic circles and the clones were more difficult for it to understand. It was a practical issue, somewhere between the fact that it had no measure for what a 'clone' was, nor what a glyph meant.

What was important, or at least what it grasped, was that if it were to act as a "Vanguard" as Njala had described, there would be more chances to see the world. That, and it would be stronger, something it appreciated. Its fascination with these battles had been in a studious capacity, and it had been learning all about how to use a few of the weapons, even though some of them looked either too complicated to use, or did something strange.

The man, Oobleck, said something about weapons the last time they had a meeting, which was a while ago. The Beowolf was quite interested in that, even though it was taking quite a while to actually start.

A noise on the other side of the room from the corner it was sitting in caught its attention and it lifted its head up. Tall as it was, it could have seen without moving, but the humans and faunuses tended to move their heads a lot, so it copied. It could see that Yang and Ruby were arguing quietly about something while Weiss looked on.

Standing up quietly the beast lumbered over, cloak getting caught on the corner of the coffee table in the living room. It took another step before it realized that it was going to topple over everything sitting on it, including its scroll.

Carefully stepping back and pulling itself free it decided to click on the scroll, reaching over with a long arm to flick it open. Displayed for it immediately was a feed of the empty coliseum floor, the ring being maintained while they set up for the 1v1 ceremony.

Closing the scroll again and flipping it over to make sure it was clean (something it had learned from Blake, keeping tech free of dirt) it wiped off some of the crumbs which had stuck to the back while it had been sitting next to the girls' food. It ran a short claw along the crease around the insignia on the back, fishing for anything, and flicked the detritus away before setting it back down. It didn't exactly put much time into keeping the thing clean, the fact that it was useable being enough for the Beowolf.

Approaching the trio and sitting back on its haunches it watched the three discuss something for a while, their expressions changing wildly as they discussed how they were going to do something. It waited patiently for one of them to give it some sort of explanation, but none was forthcoming.

Eventually it snuffled and Weiss looked up, smiling a half-smile. "Ah, sorry, you're so quiet sometimes!"

"Yeah, for a monster you sure do manage to get around unnoticed." Yang piped up, though Ruby scowled at the word usage. "Sorry we've been ignoring you, just been trying to figure something out before the singles set starts."

The beowolf nodded, tilting its head slightly.

"The fights now are one on one, so we need to decide who is going to compete." Weiss clarified. "It's probably going to be Yang, I'm not feeling too well after getting blown up last match."

"I'm just worried that Yang might not be well-rounded enough for everybody in the finals." Ruby said, sighing. "I mean, Pyrrha is going to probably be in there, and we all know how good she is."

"To be fair, none of us are doing that well against her." Weiss admitted with a bit of a grimace. "Only person I know that's actually bested her was the Beowolf."

All three looked at the Beowolf who looked between them with some confusion, not getting the joke. Yang was the one to show pity first, smiling and looking like she was about to explain it when a knock on the door caught their attention.

Through the door stepped the members of the other team the Beowolf had seen before. Two young men with yellow and black hair, and two women with orange and red hair. It knew the red haired one as the one it had encountered in the forest a while back, and the other ones from when it was locked in the large room with the huntsmen after being captured in Vale.

They were followed in by Njala who had her arms crossed and leaned against the door. She looked bored, but as usual the Beowolf could not read her emotions to see what she was feeling. Far more prominent was the Yellow haired man who seemed like he was still quite scared of the beast, an emotion it hadn't noticed recently given the company.

The group started chatting again, the orange haired one immediately started talking boisterously with the others, her expression a great grin. As she started to speak the red haired one walked up to the Beowolf and pursed her lips, head slightly down-turned at the ground before looking up at the wolf's face.

"I'm sorry that I attacked you so long ago." She said quietly, though the rest of the huntresses and huntsmen quieted with the admission. "My name is Pyrrha Nikos." She bowed slightly, a move which surprised the Beowolf.

The bow was a show of deference from humans, or something like that. To be on the receiving end of one as a Grimm was quite strange, and it didn't quite know how to react. It inclined its head in return, something it had done for a while know when shown respect or greeted in any way.

"Say, does it have a name?" Orange asks, turning to look at Ruby, who shakes her head. "Well that's dumb. It should have a name."

"Well if might have one, but it can't exactly talk." Yang replied, shaking her head. "Though it might just be some growls or something Grimm-y."

"We could give it a new one!" Ruby says, clapping her hands together. "I vote for…" She pauses dramatically. "Wolf!"

"That's a dumb name." The black haired man says in a deadpan. "Choose a different one."

"That is indeed a pretty lame name." Weiss agreed, shaking her head. "I think we could do better than that." She held up a finger. "What about Sinclair?"

The beowolf heard the name and grumbled, shaking its head and looking pointedly at Weiss, who deflated.

"Wow, shut down." Ruby said, whistling. "Who's dumb now huh?!"

The group laughed, and the Beowolf snuffled in amusement. In the corner of its eyes it could also see Njala who was smiling herself, though she seemed to hide it when it looked over to her. Instead she nodded her head towards the group, motioning for it to pay attention.

Nodded, turning back to them and listening as they joked about the sorts of crazy names they could give the beast, dumb names, good names, crazy names… The beowolf appreciated their effort, even if it was a little insulting to be called 'Bubble'.

Blake:

There wasn't a lot of time before Yang's possible bout to spare, but the faunus was willing to risk it.

Riding on the light rail which normally took workers to the industrial region of Vale, Blake was sighing. Her eyes were focused on the tower and mall complex which made up Lac Logain. She had happened upon a few names when she was reading up more specifics on Grimm, and one stood out.

Gige Aegerter. The name stood out like a sore thumb among the names listed. It was foreign in a way. Very unlike the standard names of Remnant the scientist did not appear to have any reference to color in her name. That alone was very strange, but more importantly she was involved in a rather small task force dedicated to Grimm research. Most in-depth research into the Grimm was abandoned years ago due to the impossibility of capture. I wonder what they've learned?

And that information was exactly what she was interested in. It's not that she distrusted the Beowolf or anything, there was simply so much they didn't know about what it was. What it was thinking, how it lived, what it could become, all of that was behind a haze of unknowing. A particular fear was that it might just… Die.

She recalled one of the first lessons with Professor Port, the one where he had the boarbatusk. Despite the fact that Grimm couldn't be sealed for too long the professor was able to bring it all the way to class. This in and of itself could probably be explained by some sort of time limit but Blake wasn't really willing to leave that to chance. The Beowolf had been ostensibly locked in Amity for a couple weeks, and at this point it had been a prisoner of Atlas for around a month. She didn't know if even Ironwood expected the Beowolf to live this long under current conditions.

The few times they had seen the Grimm since it was back in the kingdom it seemed calm, and it didn't look like it had tried to break out of the room… But I never taught it how to talk about emotions. Would it 'feel trapped'?

As she pondered the train slowed and pulled into the station which was attached to the complex. She stepped out from the car and looked up into the vaulted ceilings. Massive banks of windows let light stream in and light up the bare concrete of the walls. She was facing towards the escalators that lead up to the main floor of the university, wood accents contrasting heavily with the concrete all around. It looked like proof that Atlas had invested a fair amount of money into this facility, or at least that was the rumor.

The receptionist at the front desk directed her to an interactive map which told her which room she'd find the researcher on. Room 5168.

Two staircases and a couple of bridges that crossed the mall below later she was looking at a plain maple door with a simple steel plate with the name 'Aegrter' inlaid. There was no door handle so the Faunus knocked twice before stepping back towards the railing behind her. While she waited she glanced over her shoulder at the small crowd below which was moving around the food court, the smell of take-out pizza wafting up from a stand.

The university was pretty enough, though strangely located. Where Blake stood on a ten-foot-wide 'sidewalk' she was actually forty feet above the mall floor below, and could easily see all the way down. The fifth floor was the second topmost layer, and there was yet another floor above which had even more classrooms. It was quite spectacular in size all things considered, though she absentmindedly wondered why there were so many nooks and crannies around which someone could stand on.

The door swung open and an older woman stepped out, her eyes trained on a clipboard she was scribbling something on. Before Blake could say anything the woman lifted her head slightly and met the Faunus' eyes, nodding her head to the doorway. "We can talk inside."

The woman then turned on her heel and continued to write, stepping back into the office without another word. Stepped quickly in before the door closed on her, slipping in just before the pneumatic lock hissed back into place. Trying to keep up with the woman's brisk pace she cast a glance over her shoulder to see that the door was smooth on this side as well.

Now that is scary.

"It's a security measure." Aegerter called from in front, somehow seeing Blake's expression (or at least predicting it). "It's to stop people from getting in, or things getting out that shouldn't."

Though her words were ominous the woman spoke with some natural levity which was meant to ease any of Blake's fears, which Blake appreciated. She had been a bit nervous ever since she set foot on the train to the University, something she was only noticing now. Maybe it was because there were so few people around here when the Academy was bustling with activity.

Eventually she found herself seated in a small lounge area just off the main hall with a door that lead into some dark room. A couple of chesterfields faced each other over a gnarled wood coffee table which had a glass top set over it to rest glasses on. She sat diagonally across from Aegerter, the researcher leaning back into the corner of the couch and haphazardly setting her clipboard on the table. It slid across until a corner bumped into Blake's knee. She looked down and saw that the paper had her Beacon ID photo clipped to the top left of a two-page form. Flipping the pages she saw that most of it was filled out already, even though they were fields she was supposed to write in.

"While I was excited to hear from security that a Huntress was coming to learn about my research there are some regulations around these sorts of interviews." The woman sighed, pointing with her hand to the form. "Normally people call ahead for these sorts of things, people doing postgraduate research usually aren't available for comment on their findings ahead of publication you know."

Blake blushed, caught in her excitement. She may or may not have forgotten to call ahead, which is why she was surprised at the front door when the receptionist ushered her in like the woman had expected her.

"I just need you to fill in the rest. All the bits which I needed to make look a little more proper than 'was interested in cool monster stuff'." She smiled warmly, giving off the aura of a welcoming soul. "Not that a Huntress competing in the final rounds of the Vytal tournament would have such academic interests."

Blake had to lift a brow, but Gige continued. "Oh come on, of course I'm going to look up the name of someone who just shows up out of nowhere!"

She sounded like she was having fun, and somehow reminded the Faunus of Pyrrha when she was in a good mood. The woman kept talking about this and that, but Blake got the impression that she was just filling the air with words to avoid an awkward silence. Getting the hint, Blake started on the blanks in the form.

The questions were basic things, stuff to confirm that she was indeed a student at Beacon. Student number, year, that sort of stuff. She filled them in while the woman droned on, looking over the other questions at the same time. They were all specific to some sort of confidential interview in sensitive materials, as well as what they were going to be used for. There was some jargon in there which she didn't recognize, but the gist of it looked like an information exchange. She provided information, Aegerter provided information. She sort of wondered what that would entail but Gige switched topics.

"So, what really brings a young hunter to my labs?" She asked in a sort of pointed way. She wasn't probing, and her tone betrayed a sort of sarcasm implying that she didn't expect there to be any particularly good reason for Blake to be there.

"Well, uh." Blake paused for a moment as she tried to think about how she wanted to ask these questions without being awkward. She hesitated for a moment too long and she almost chuckled when Gige started talking again.

"How about this if you don't know how to start," She pulled herself up and leaned towards Blake, pulling the form towards her. She flipped through it as she continued speaking, "I'll tell you some more details about my work, then you can ask me for some more details if something sounds interesting. Good?"

This felt like an actual pause, so Blake nodded.

"Alrighty," Gige exclaimed, leaning back again and resting her feet on the table. "So I am the head in a task force to search for more practical ways to observe Grimm activities and record results. Along with that we're of course performing some experiments to make sure that what we've found is going to work for other groups."

Pausing to see if Blake had any questions she arched a brow, then continued.

"Obviously the hard part here is trying to put a Grimm in a box and stick needles in it. The old way of doing things where you tried to stuff something into a box and experiment with it failed all the time. The more morally dubious kiting of a Grimm into a pit with a convict inside as some sort of bait was a bit more successful, though it too failed eventually," Gige held her hands vertical and about shoulder's width apart and moved them apart. "Expand the size of the pen and you get some more time but there are diminishing returns over twenty feet radius and caps out hard at twenty-five. But that's the end of the simple examples."

"What were they trying to keep in those enclosures?" Blake asked, piping up since this seemed relevant. The 'apartment' the Beowolf was in was probably about that size in radius, roughly.

"Ah, just small things. Small nevermores, boarbatusks, that sort of thing." She replied, waving her hand. "Those grimm were the easiest to capture since a single Huntsman could kite them to an area or knock one into a pit of that size. A beowolf would be too big in some cases or could even leap out of pens."

When Blake seemed pleased with the answer Gige continued, "Because these didn't work, and more fragile ways of handing Grimm tended to fail in protecting researchers, most investigation into Grimm in a scientific way halted. If you put a Grimm in a cage with bars eventually it would break free and run amok, sometimes killing people in its rage. If the cage was too confined you had the opposite problem, the Grimm would simply die."

"So, you wonder in obvious suspense," She stood and stepped over to a low table with a coffee machine and kettle. She lifted up a box of tea and waggled it at Blake, who nodded in thanks, "how are we planning to overcome the magic suicide pact that bind Grimm together. Do they stop breathing? Hold their breath until their brains go blue?" Flicking on the kettle and putting a cup with a tea bag beside it along with a small pitcher of milk, she returned to Blake and set it in front of her. "Well, Grimm don't have any brains, and as you may have noticed no Grimm appear to have organs of any kind, so it's unlikely to be a nutritional issue or anything like that," Stepping back she retrieved another cup and filled it with water from a faucet nearby. "So we had to work under the assumption that Grimm simply die under unnatural circumstances, where the natural circumstance is that they do what they want."

Blake nodded. "But if they all wanted to simply destroy civilization, wouldn't they die out on our borders?"

"Maybe," Gige said, taking a sip from her cup. "of course we wouldn't be able to see that happen since they disintegrate and don't leave any evidence behind. That and there are plenty of Grimm in remote areas that don't have any humans or Faunus to maul. Whether that's a philosophical concern on the meaning of Grimm or not is none of my business, but it is important that, you're right, there's more to capturing a Grimm than letting it maul you."

The kettle clicks and the researcher grabs it, filling a tea pot and setting it in front of Blake. "As we learned, there is something very interesting about Grimm management. First of all, if a Grimm can escape, it will, eventually."

Blake fixed her tea while keeping her eyes on Aegerter, who replaced the kettle. This sounds promising…

"A labyrinth for example can contain beasts the size of a Beowolf for spans of days under the right conditions, something which was thought impossible before." Taking another sip from her glass she smiled. "Not that it is easy to make something like that and keep a Beowolf happy."

Unclipping a piece of paper from the clipboard she quickly doodled a maze with three exits that was divided into four sections. "So assuming that this maze is solvable, which it might not be but bear with me, the Grimm would have three options for escaping the maze. If it starts over here," She pointed to an area near one exit, a bit aways from another, and far away from the last, "it has two choices for exits. The one closest to it might only take a minute to find. Easy enough." She struck off exit A and pointed to the next closest one. "This one might take half an hour to navigate to, but the Grimm will probably make the trek out if it finds its way and there are no trick walls are anything." She struck off the second exit and circled the last remaining one. "So that leaves us with this one over here."

Leaning back, she rolled her shoulders, glancing over to something through a doorway. Blake took the moment to get a better look at her, as she had been listening, but not paying much attention to the random gestures the woman made. Gige was probably six or so inches taller than Blake, dirty blonde hair tied back in a rough braid that looked like it was used more out of practice than concern for style. Her long sleeve shirt was rolled up to her elbows and from what Blake could see the woman had musculature a bit too developed for your average citizen. Her hands looked rough and sinewy, the muscle well defined along the top and sides of her arm.

"Aww, if you wanna hold hands all you gotta do is ask!" Gige drawled, leaning back in her seat. She made no effort to hide her arms, so she obviously wasn't uncomfortable, though the glint in her eye when Blake looked up screamed of a challenge. Blake wasn't willing to pick her up on that.

"Anyways, that last door also works, and even though it might take quite a long time for the Grimm to reach it, the door technically constitutes and exit. And so, it will try and escape." She crosses out the final door. "Now, there is no exit. The Grimm will not attempt to find an exit unless it can brute force one into existence."

"Wait, why?" Blake asks, confused. "Why does it not look for an exit?"

"Because there isn't one." Gige replied as if it were painfully obvious. "In the simplest understanding of this model of a labyrinth, and we use a few assumptions. Firstly, if the Labyrinth is non-variable – meaning that it does not change in any way – and the Grimm cannot force an exit, there must be some exit for the Beowolf or Boarbatusk to escape. Otherwise it will perish."

"And it will never search?" Blake asked, skeptical.

"Usually." She confirms, nodding her head. "Depending on the age of the Grimm there might be different outcomes in this way. One might be more patient and wait for a researcher to open an exit, in which case it will try and escape or something like that."

"What about Mountain Glenn?" Blake pressed, shifting in her seat. "After the people were forced underground a catacomb opened which was filled with Grimm. That overwhelmed the people who had survived the original Grimm invasion."

"True," The researcher admitted, taking another sip. "But in that case there could very well have been a connection to the surface through which the Grimm approached the wall. Also, some Grimm are more than willing to wait in places which seem inescapable for their size, only to burst out when least expected."

"Deathstalkers…" Blake muttered to herself.

"Exactly."

"So, what else have you found?" Blake asked, now realizing that she was getting into information that, while interesting, didn't really apply to the Beowolf. Or did it?

If the Beowolf always knows that there is an exit, some way for it to escape, does that mean that it could very well bust its way through Amity if necessary for freedom? She pondered that for a moment, then realized there was a better question.

"Actually," she begins, then pauses to take a gulp of the sweet tea. "Can humans act as barriers?"

Gige whistled low and she grinned. "Not unless they're cadavers, but if you mean indirectly…"

Leaning forward her smile changed from mischievous to dangerous. "Realize that in my explaining this to you I am describing physical examples of quantum theory which shouldn't be visible at macroscopic scales without some sort of mental insanity."

"Uh." Blake cut in, a bit surprised, "I meant in more of a literal way."

"Oh." Was the surprisingly dejected response which fell from Gige's lips like a birthday cake sliding off of a plate and onto the ground. "Well, believe me when I say it's cool."

Recomposing herself she gave the short version. "Depending on how old the Grimm is and how strong it is, a Beowolf might consider a person a barrier if they have reasonable expectations that they might die at the hands of… A weapon for example. But that is a somewhat subjective call made by the Grimm, so results can vary quite a bit."

"Does it work the same as a physically walled off exit?"

"Nope." Was the short answer. "A Grimm that is smart enough to know not to fight will probably be able to wait very long spans of time for a chance to appear to escape."

"So it isn't as binary as there being an exit or not."

"Nope!" Gige confirmed, her grin back. "There are some theories around that, some outlier cases, but it's all mostly he-says she-says right now."

"Interesting…" Blake trailed off. With that statement alone, the Grimm was probably safe. It was definitely very old and would probably be able to wait a while to get what it wanted. Though that 'what' was sort of up for debate, Blake was happy to know that it wasn't going to keel over dead anytime soon.

The woman seemed more than willing to share what she knew, and obviously had a lot to talk about. Unfortunately, Blake didn't have enough time to hear the full story of how they made these labyrinths, or how they figured any of this stuff out, she was focused on answers more than anything to the questions she already had. That said, she did have something she was interested in.

"One last question, I think." Blake murmured before draining the last of her tea. "About Grimm evolution."

"Mm?" Gige grunted, her lips again twisting into a smirk.

"The last book I read that had anything on the topic just spoke in broad strokes about how Grimm evolve as they age. What does the evolution of a Grimm entail?"

Gige nodded before seeming to think for a moment about how to answer. "Not that this is an area I know a lot about, but there are a couple of interesting points about Grimm and how they change."

"Firstly," She stood and splayed one hand holding it flat. "Grimm seem to exist as distinct species, and don't change on their own." She holds her other hand beside it, also flat. "If we have a species, say the Boarbatusk, and we search for other, children types of them, we will find none. There will be countless types of aged boars, but there are no 'genetic' subspecies. A Grimm always falls within a well-defined category, be it a Beowolf, a Taijitsu, or anything of the sort."

"In essence that means that two visually similar types of Grimm, say an Ursa and a Beowolf, are only as similar as a Nevermore is to a Behemoth." Gige brought her hands down to the table and lifted one slightly above the other. "Furthermore, there is no regression in a Beowolf, and there is no lateral movement from what we can see. A Beowolf newborn is the lowest form evolutionarily speaking of that type of Grimm. There was no Beowolf before the newborn, no proto-beowolf."

"So the oldest Beowolf in existence could be as old as the Grimm themselves?"

"Potentially." Gige confirmed, but she shook her head. "But it would be incredibly hard to confirm. It would have to have dodged all the normal pitfalls of existence, including freak accidents such as landslides or tsunamis. At the scale of time for living we're talking about your Grimm would have to be more than a little lucky."

Blake nodded, as it made sense. Accidents happen, and even without things such as car crashes or freak accidents around technology an 'immortal' being would still have trouble avoiding being crushed by a boulder rolling down a cliff or some such thing.

"As for combat evolutions… They're strictly human-related." Gige sighed. "Rarely does a Beowolf appear out of nowhere with the ability to eat bullets – not literally of course – without having come into contact with a human before. If continuously exposed to bullets over time the Grimm will eventually become all but immune to them. The defense comes from their masque, the white armor which covers parts of their bodies. The black part, what we usually call their 'flesh', tends to be far less resilient."

Blake nodded again, she knew as much. "But if a Beowolf was covered entirely in armor it wouldn't have any weakness. It would essentially be immune to all forms of firepower."

"Exactly, you would require something far more effective than normal arms to destroy it. At that point a Beowolf would be as resilient as a tank, but that doesn't necessarily make it a perilous enemy to challenge." Aegerter poured more hot water into Blake's cup and sat back down, crossing her legs. "Just because a boarbatusk is immune to Bullets doesn't mean it can't be destroyed by other means, or that it is particularly more dangerous than a regular boarbatusk. The tactics need to change, but…" She shrugged. "You've probably been hit by a Beowolf before, it hurts like hell. Just because the Beowolf is no longer worried about bullets doesn't mean that it will evolve gatling guns on its shoulders and start mowing down villages."

The researcher was grinning again, the glint in her eyes back as she peered at Blake. The faunus was starting to get a little suspicious of why the woman seemed so chipper at times during her explanations. It was a little unsettling.

"The true issue isn't the fact that a Beowolf gets particularly stronger so much as their numbers become more difficult to handle." Gige continued, her tone changing slightly, becoming darker, more reserved. "Mountain Glenn is an example of Grimm slowly but surely overrunning a settlement. When they first beat back the Grimm some survived, retreating and building defenses against the weaponry being used. The next attack was more successful, and while they were driven back once more their abilities grew. Eventually the cycle runs itself to the obvious conclusion; either Vale wipes out all traces of the Grimm around Mountain Glenn to keep it from being overrun, or the Beowolves take the city eventually."

"Huntsmen like you or your teammates can usually slay dozens of weak Grimm without much concern, but the military defenses with ineffective ballistic weapons will eventually lose. As such, if you leave any Grimm you come in contact with alive, if may very well be the sort of beast which is far more treacherous than normal people can handle. On the scale of a Grimm hunting army… Well, you can imagine that before the discovery of Dust any early civilizations were swiftly put down by Grimm hordes."

"So, if Dust remains a viable approach, that means that Grimm can't adapt to it." Blake said, but the statement was just a question. That was what she thought, and what textbooks told her, so it made sense. If Dust really was what lead to the age of Man then it must have some special property.

"If you want to believe that." Was all Gige had to say. "You might come across situations where that assumption will get you killed, so I'd be rather careful of assuming that any particular weapon is a silver bullet. Especially dust."

There was a long pause, both of them looking at each other. Gige's expression had changed from a smirk to blank, unreadable. Blake herself was feeling a bit worried. Her questions were mostly answered, but that final note was a bit… Scary.

"Now! I do believe that there isn't much time before the Final bouts begin. I think that you should be on your way for those, correct?" The researcher stood, motioning for Blake to get up. "It's been good explaining all this to you, hopefully it is useful for you in your hunts!"

Blake smiled and nodded and followed Gige to the exit of her labs, now noticing just how large the section of rooms was for a single person. Suspicious again she trained her eyes on the back of the woman's head. She noticed another strange thing, the fact that the woman had no bob to her walk, her head not moving up or down at all while moving. It was an old practice to try and hide when you were going to strike, and something that old soldiers did in her stories. It was strange to see a scientist doing it.

Is she a huntress herself? Blake wondered. It was rare for a Huntsman to take up another job after going through all their training… Especially going back to school for a specialized field like this… It made more sense than say molecular biology, but still.

"Say," Gige murmurs when they reach the exit. "You wouldn't happen to know a Beowolf with a Red Scroll, would you?"

She turns and gazes into Blake's eyes, her expression hard, but her smirk in place. Her hand rests on the door, the biometric scanner built into it showing a HUD. The green display stutters in place, the door lock not released, a silent threat to Blake.

The faunus was silent, trying her best to keep any expression out of her face. Internally she was seriously reconsidering her idea of coming here solo if the woman truly was—

"If you have problems," The woman continued, sharp teeth showing through her parted lips, "Know there is someone nearby who can help."

She opened the door and stepped aside, never breaking her line of sight. Blake bristled at the threat, but broke the gaze, stepping through the door. Is she the one who got the Beowolf the scroll? It was possible she was just fishing for something, as she didn't have any details, but…

The door shut behind her before Blake could ask any questions, and with the dull thud of the lock she walked away, a chill running up her spine.

AN: For people who are have been following for a while, you may want to go back to Chapter 10. I recently updated the chapter that introduces Njala and Gige, so you might want to take a look at it. It's not critical, but the ending bit in this chapter might make more sense. (Thank you to 5 Colored Walker for catching my mistake here)