Chapter 35: Hollow

Coal found himself drifting through darkness, without knowing how he came to be in such a position to begin with. The emptiness encompassed all, the emptiness was all. The recollection began to dance in his vision. He was dreaming once again. But this was no nightmare without end. Coal yearned for the dream that taunted him in his waking life, to remember and understand it. It did not take long to realize his own sleep was the only way he could find those answers.

This was the fifth night he had had this dream, of floating, or plummeting, through nothingness. The first night Coal awoke out of excited familiarity, finding himself unable to sleep again that eve. The second was much the same. But since the third, he had learned to control certain aspects of his dreams. He knew the answers he sought lie somewhere in here, but reaching them was a problem he had yet to solve.

Forcing himself upright, Coal turned his head side to side. He searched, just like the previous nights, finding nothing. But the past week of repeating dreams taught him a pattern to it all. Next, he would find his claws melded with his fingers. And that would cause the submerged memories to resurface. Coal brought one hand to his vision, and as he expected, the coat of steel covered his hands. That's right, these were a part of me in that distant dream. They are a part of me.

Then came the mirror, erupting from the shadows in front of him, tall and simple, yet beautiful in some way he could not describe. Light emanated from its glassy screen, and Coal saw himself. His reflection looked like him, as it should, but at the same time not quite a perfect replica. He never could figure out what the difference was, or whether his own self perspective was never right to begin with. He still hadn't a clue as to why the mirror appeared, but he knew what it represented.

The image in the mirror began to warp and twist into a haze, dissipating until nothing remained. This was where he woke up on the third night, out of panic. Coal stared deeper into the contents of the mirror, and in the corner of his eye, he saw movement. He tried to quell his beating heart, afraid it would pull him back to the waking world. Coal spun away from the mirror, and when he turned back, it had melded in with the darkness, leaving him alone once more. But he knew that was untrue. There was a presence, now. He recalled back then there were many like it, millions.

Coal closed his eyes, a deep inhale calming his nerves. I am in control, he reminded himself. He forced his heavy eyelids open, vision taking in nothing but black once again. His eyes told him nothing had changed, but Coal's gut feeling claimed otherwise. He knew what lurked in the darkness, but until he could convince his senses something was here, Coal knew he would find nothing. He tried to bring to mind the faint memories of the thousands of beings rushing past him. Though formless, he detected twisted energy pulsating in each of them. Almost recognizable.

He felt it again. Though he heard nothing, Coal was certain the tail of something brushed past his back. It was circling him. His heart pounding faster and faster, he turned his head in the direction he predicted it would stalk from. Somehow discernible against the black emptiness, a great, dark wolf prowled, silent as smoke. It could easily be mistaken for a Beowolf, but Coal knew there were many differences between the Grimm and this beast.

Its form was larger, much larger than the common Beowolf, and unlike their lyncathrope figure, this beast remained on four legs. If anything, it seemed closer to a giant dog than a wolf. The beast's pelt was fine and smooth between the occasional spike of bone protruding. The white mask with red markings only added to the overall elegance of the beast. Its monstrous yet gentle paws brushed across the unseen floor without sound.

Coal had to force his heart from leaping right out of his chest. This beast, this great black dog, may yet hold the answers he craved. The massive canine neither growled nor approached, always remaining the same distance from him. And as Coal stretched a hand towards it, the Grimm turned his head and departed. But he knew it wasn't leaving him. From his dream last night, which ended shortly after this moment, Coal understood it was not leaving him, but guiding him. With little other options in sight, he followed.

For an eternity, Coal tailed the great beast. He found it strange how a dream could twist and warp one's sense of time. Many scientists still struggled to understand dreams, while some believe dreams hold a reflection to our every day lives and events. Coal didn't care. He only wanted to know. That desire of his may lead him to enlightenment or destruction, though he cared not for any other outcome but truth.

The Grimm curved his path, and Coal discovered a simple wooden door blocked their way. His escort circled the door, leading to nothing, from what he could see. The make of the door looked so familiar to him. This could only lead him to what he had been searching for. The canine watched his movements as he seated himself adjacent to the door. Coal's hand pressed against the surface of the wood and he could feel the prickle of potential slivers against his palm. But there was a warmth to the door as well.

Pressing his ear against it, he could hear the crackling of fire, faint as smoke. His heart pounding overpowered the sound of the fire and within seconds, all Coal could hear was his own heart, louder and louder. It was deafening now. He pulled his hands away to cover his ears. Dread filled his thoughts. Coal rushed to throw open the door, but the handle melted in his grip. The great, black dog also became ash, blown away with the wind. The gust grew stronger, and despite clawing into the ground, Coal was pulled away from the fading darkness.

In a cold sweat, Coal sprung from his bed, covers flying off of his body. Wide awake now, and nothing would return to sleep except for another day of reality. His heart still beat like it was on fire. Coal rushed into the bathroom, turned on the lights and stared into the mirror. His reflection looked familiar, and although the bags under his eyes paired with his bloodshot eyes made him look worse for wear, he still recognized the image in the mirror. Coal splashed water onto his face and tried to scrub the drowsiness from his expression in vain. As the water trickled down the drain, he knew one thing was certain. He was getting close. One more night should do it.

(-)

Mantle was a quiet city, if you could ignore the machinery digging up Dust at every hour. It could still be labeled as quiet, as they had more Dust mines than they did citizens. The few that chose to live in the past where Mantle was the big city instead of Atlas, or the workers with nowhere else to go. It couldn't even pass of as a tourist attraction. But what it lacked for many of the common and good people of Remnant made it valuable to those that viewed the law as lenient.

Roman couldn't deny that coming here was a good move. Not a lot of law enforcement or people willing to stand up against criminals and terrorists like the White Fang, but that also meant not as lucrative plundering. But, they had to lay low, and that's exactly what they've been doing. It made it easy when most of the citizens have lost so much of their spirit they won't answer anyone's call for help. Such was the case with one schmuck that witnessed them.

The witness sprinted as fast as he could through the alleyways of Mantle. He might've thought that zigzagging through the lesser know parts of town might help him, but his tactics worked against him. It made other witnesses far less common. Plus, it's hard to outrun a vehicle. It was effortless for Roman to keep his eyes on the target as he tried to flee. Sure, the occasional debris flying past made it difficult, but he kept the witness in his sights, directing the driver on where to go.

So long as Neo and the Lieutenant ensured the goods they stole was getting back to the safehouse, then this was the only loose end to tie up. Shouldn't be so bad. How far could one guy run? Still, he's making good distance. Maybe too good. Roman stood on his seat, holding the top of the convertible's windshield to steady himself, and aimed. The rocket shot out of the end of his cane, destroying a minor chunk of the corner just to the left of their target. The target covered his head and dashed to the right.

All as planned. Didn't want him getting into the bigger streets, and in all honesty, Roman was enjoying himself. He released another wave of explosives to terrify the witness, cackling away. When the witness ended up finding a dead end, the crime lord knew the fun was over. The vehicle came to a crawl, inching closer as the engine hummed lowly. Roman and two other White Fang members hopped out and approached the hysterical man.

"P-p-please, don't-don't hurt me! Please!" The witness backed against the corner as much as he could. The headlights shined large shadows of them as came closer. "I'll do anything, I won't tell a soul, I promise I won't, please!"

Roman rolled his eyes. "Oh, that's not a problem at all. We already know you won't tell anyone. We're just going to make sure of that." A gesture to the two henchmen, and the witness cried out into the night. The crime lord lit a cigar and walked away. The screams would ring in his ears for a while and he was here to relax; a headache would ruin that. He surveyed the damage as he whipped out his Scroll. The rubble shouldn't make leaving too difficult.

A scowl found its way on his face before he looked over the loot he made note of. It was about half the size of their previous haul. And even that was meager, at best. Word is getting around. The few shopkeepers are hiding most of their wares. Not to mention they've been getting away with all of this scot free. That's not gonna last, especially since Mantle is one of Atlas' prime Dust sources. Ol' James isn't gonna stand around for long.

"Torchwick." One of the White Fang pulled him out of his thoughts. Though few of the members still despised him for being a human, many saw him as one of their own. The Faunus point back at the human, or what was left of him. Beaten to a pulp, one eye sealed shut from the bruising with blood dripping from his lip.

"Ah, good. I'll take it from here, if you don't mind." Roman stepped forward while the others saw to getting the vehicle out of the alley. He crouched down, his cane wavering above the witness' pummeled face. The victim's remaining good eye lazily rose up to stare at the crime lord, who extended two fingers to wave. The former witness coughed blood while trying to speak. His hands clenched though he remained unable to move.

"Wh...Wh..." He wheezed. Roman raised an eyebrow, curious as to what the bloodied heap had to say. "Why... Are you... Here..."

The crime lord sneered before standing up, resting his cane on his shoulder. "Don't you know the first rule of terrorism?" Only more heavy breathing from the witness. Guess that was all he could muster. Roman poised his cane, ready to strike. "Everyone's a target." His cane smashed down against the skull of the victim, knocking him unconscious.

(-)

There were countless cafes, pubs, and restaurants around Atlas, a large portion of them scattered around central Atlas. Whitley heard of the Cat's Eye from Sorrell, and knew that was the last place he wanted to be for private meetings. And so he deigned to choosing a more quiet, if not rustic, location. Although a little young, he was able to gain entrance into a pub, the Malt Shovel, thanks to some bribing of the owner and bartender. Barren of customers as well, as it was an hour before noon. Whitley waited in one of the private rooms on the second floor.

His contact should be coming soon. Whitley twiddled his thumbs in waiting. After his meeting with Sorrell a couple weeks ago, the young patrician took it upon himself to dig a little more into two things. One was the individual the aristocrat pointed at, Hisui. The other, of course, was Sorrell. Whitley knew he wasn't telling the whole truth. And if he were to fish it out, he had to do so discreetly. Although it disgusted him to repeat the actions of his father, he saw it as a necessary evil, as Sorrell may have put it.

The door opened, and Whitley sighed in relief when he learned it wasn't someone bringing him refreshments again. The clacking of heels followed after the door closed again, and a woman sat at the table with him. In her late thirties, with purple hair braided and flowing over her shoulder, the woman glared at him with crimson eyes. It took some time to set up a private meeting with Yolande Roux, especially after her initial refusal. Whitley supposed it was the bad blood she felt over anything related to the Schnees.

"I'm here." Yolande spat, crossing her arms and her legs. Whitley nodded, taking note of the bite in her tone.

"Thank you for meeting with me, Miss Roux."

"You have a lot of nerve to try and contact me. After what your father did to me-"

"What did my father do to you, exactly?" Whitley asked in a wry manner that portrayed he already knew. "You haven't halted your investigations into him, have you?"

Yolande narrowed her eyes, unable to glare any harder. "What do you want?"

"Information." Whitley was direct and firm. Playing nice wasn't going to get him anywhere and was only needed in front of Father, to keep the ruse up. "We both have something the other party wants. I propose an exchange." The woman looked him up and down, startled by his mannerisms and words.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She looked away, staring out the window instead. Her eyes continued to shift around, causing Whitley to suspect she was searching for miniscule cameras and listening bugs. "I stopped investigating the SDC years ago and haven't touched it since. I learned the hard way what your family turns to. This is just more proof."

"What my father decided to do to you is beyond my control. After all," Whitley threw up his hands, eyes narrowing. "I'm just a child." Yolande glanced at him. Whitley grabbed the glass of water, rolling the ice cubes inside. "Though it is true, he does stain the Schnee family name. I could hardly believe my eyes when I discovered he was behind Violette's disappearance."

She hid her shock well. If not for her eyes widening, Whitley would believe the topic of her daughter didn't shake her at all. "I see you managed to memorize her name. Congratulations." She shifted in her seat. Whitley suspected she might be using a recorder herself. "Is that a confession?"

"It's an apology." The silence that followed was heavy. "I have no control over what my father does, and that must change. You were working on his case with more dedication than anyone. Him... And others. My proposal still stands. I will offer you information on the head of the Schnee family, and I will even turn the other way if I find planted bugs."

"And what is it that you want, exactly?"

She didn't reject his proposal, not yet at least. This was progress. "Have you heard of a man named Sorrell Alaric?" The twisting of her face was greater than when he mentioned Viollette. "I see. Well, that makes this easier, then. I need to know more about him. What he's done, who he knows, what his aim is. I will gladly trade any information you have on him for secrets of the Schnees."

Yolande gave one last scan of the room, before meeting Whitley's gaze. "What in Remnant did he do to you..."

Whitley leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment. He wondered if she would still see him as a useless, delusional child. "Travesty."

(-)

Seraphina watched Coal's movements, unable to pull her eyes away. He ate his lunch with the others with little change in his attitude, though his demeanor grew worse and worse. Something needed to be done. But she didn't have the courage to initiate something, while Viridian lacked the concern. And although he and Azure were closer than anyone, she didn't have the voice. But what could be done for a man who refuses to save himself?

She tried to find joy in her meal, struggling to find her appetite. The others discussed something meaningless which she ignored. The psychic waited for Coal to leave, even for a moment. She had to bring this topic to the others. Perhaps they felt the same, or could even offer help. Her eyes locked with Ash's, and she detected the same worry she held for Coal. Though she had no strong feelings for Ash, his perception was remarkable. Sera was tempted to dig around in his open mind, see what it was that made him so. Is it something he's seen before? Or something he's experienced before?

Coal excused himself from the table, and Seraphina saw her opportunity. She leaned back, enough to be noticed by the others, watching Coal's back as he left. Even if it's for a minute, that's more than enough time. Once the doors closed behind him, the psychic returned to everyone else staring at her. She stood up, with her hands on the table.

"I need your help." She began. The others watched her quietly. "You've all noticed Coal's attitude of late, no point in denying it. Something is wrong with him, and he refuses to acknowledge it."

"Don't you think you're being a little invasive?" Dusk interjected. "He went through a lot. It takes time to process all of it. I'm sure he'll be fine if we just give him some time and some space."

Seraphina glared at him. "How much more space could we give him? We've done that for the past week and he's only gotten worse!"

"Seraphina is right." Ash agreed. "Coal is very upset over something, and although I have my theories, what he needs is support. Maybe directly."

The young soldier grumbled to himself. "But what can we do? Start an intervention? We don't even know what's eating at him! Doesn't he have the right to his own privacy?"

To hell with privacy, Sera thought but didn't say. She seated herself again, crossing her arms.

"I could try a friendly spar with him." Sylvia suggested. "I could let him win this-"

"NO." They all said in unison.

"Intervention it is." The psychic declared. "Unless anyone else has any better ideas." A collective silence from both team Mustard and team Canvas flowed through. She rolled her eyes. It was nowhere near perfect, but they at least had a plan. There would be time to improve on it later. She hoped it would be enough to return Coal to normal. But the psychic wondered if he would ever be normal again, or if their objective was a lost cause.

"U-um..." A girl murmured. At first, no one could tell who it was that whispered it. But after realizing it was the shy Azure, the psychic was surprised by her uncharacteristic boldness. "I think... I think it would help if..." The assassin gulped hard, looking at the floor. "If he knew how much everyone worried about him, I think... that would make him feel worse. I know that I, personally-" She clamped her mouth shut, twiddling her thumbs. "I think we should at least let him know that we want to help."

Pushing her surprise aside, Seraphina saw that Azure was right. Dusk sighed again, saying "But what's the point in just knowing that? Shouldn't something more be done than just-"

"No, no." Sera interrupted. "She is on the right track. I have an idea, one I know you'll all be willing to partake in. We'll plan it for tonight, after Sylvia gets back from detention. Here's what we'll do..."

(-)

Coal reached the end of the passage in the book he took an interest in. After sighing, he rolled the rest of the pages in silent irritation. Though he had tried to find anything within the first few days, still no results or progress on the dream he had had. Nothing in the library could help him, and neither could the others. He couldn't burden them with his problems, especially if they couldn't understand. And how could they?

Yes, there's only one thing that can provide answers, and it's almost time. Coal was thankful for the reading at least making him drowsy. Just one more night, he reminded himself with certainty, almost happily. Just one more sleep and all should be answered. He'll find out everything he needs to know, and after that... Coal stopped in his tracks, in the halls of Atlas Academy after dark. Not a soul around. Most of the other students were either preparing for bed or in their rooms. With a hollow sigh, he finished his thought. After tonight, nothing else mattered.

He continued his stroll down the halls, trying to go over what little he could remember of his dreams. Though he refused to admit it, the dreams haunted him, in a way. He could never get them out of his head, but the real danger was that he didn't want to. Coal was experiencing many emotions at the moment. Excitement, relief, bitterness, and a hint of fear. But the voice inside that screamed and begged him to stop was but a whisper now.

Coal planned on doing nothing but preparing for bed the moment he got to his room. But as he opened the door, he was startled to see Viridian sitting on his bed. The gladiator stood up, towering over Coal. Has he grown taller lately? Without a word, he stomped past, about to leave. Coal wondered what that was about, but yelped after being grabbed by the collar and dragged out the door.

"What are you doing, Viridian?" He asked, and although he didn't expect an answer after knowing the gladiator roughly two months, he got one anyway.

"I was told to bring you with me."

Coal shrugged. He supposed it didn't matter to him. So long as he at least got to sleep eventually. Viridian pushed open the door to team Mustard's room, and threw him inside. Coal found everyone else, Ash, Monica, Sylvia, Dusk, and Azure all seated in a round table. Scratches in the floor gave Coal the idea that they stole this as well and dragged it inside. Seraphina rolled her eyes at the gladiator's choice of delivery methods, but helped Coal stand nonetheless.

"So glad you could join us, Coal. It wouldn't be the same without you."

"I didn't have much choice." He answered in a dry tone. He watched as Viridian sit next to Ash, crossing his arms. "What's going on? What's this about?"

"Monica, you have the supplies?" The psychic asked, ignoring him.

"Yessiree!" The Faunus answered, holding up a large, clear bag of candy and junk food and chips.

"Splendid. Coal, if you would seat yourself in the throne of honor." She pulled out the chair with the best view of everyone present. Coal stared between the seat and her.

"What is this?"

Seraphina answered with a smile, holding up a deck of cards. "Game night."

(A/N: Yeeeaaaah I was tempted to make this a combination of two chapters like last weeks chapter, as I initially felt this chapter wouldn't have much/enough interesting content on its own. Sorry again for the 1 day late release, but at least it's not an entire week late, right?... Right?)