Emerald Sustrai had no loyalty to Mistral. It was the place she'd been born, abandoned, and starved. She had neither a face nor name to blame for her existence. Putting it behind her was easy. When a stranger named Cinder Fall offered her a life on the road, she shrugged and took it.
Cinder kept it comfortable. She always had knowledge to share. And she kept Emerald fed. So when she stopped to plant those tree seeds she carried, Emerald watched without snide comments. And when Cinder decided to stop in a town and teach a random craftsman the tricks of his own trade, Emerald waited patiently. When Cinder stopped mid trail and changed course into the wild, Emerald followed. And when she told Emerald how to live her life, when she preached about the Better Way, Emerald tolerated it.
One of those moments, the kind she tolerated, stood out to her. The end of their first month, on a hill overlooking the sea. Emerald reclined against a tree and folded her hands behind her head. The sun had just set on their fire. Cinder knelt there, poking logs into position and stoking it, forming the first charcoals at its core. The fire danced in her eyes like molten gold.
Emerald said, "Nothing's free. Especially kindness. What do you want from me, Cinder?"
Cinder looked up from the flickering red. "You're special, Emerald."
"You mean my semblance."
"I mean you."
"So how am I special?"
"You're special to me."
"How?"
"We're going to a place tomorrow, near Patch. I'll show you there."
Emerald didn't sleep well that night. As they walked, she struggled to keep her eyes open. Cinder was her usual mellow self, happily pointing out her favorite plants. Around midday, they reached a fork in the road. Cinder stopped to ponder the dilemma. The delay grew too long, and Emerald finally voiced her frustration.
"We're not lost, are we?"
"No."
"Are you sure? I feel like we've been here before."
"We have."
"We're walking in circles?"
"Not quite. That would imply that we're back where we started. But we know more this time."
Emerald scowled at the optimism.
Cinder pointed left. "This way."
Emerald pointed right. "You know what? No. You're always telling me which way, but you never tell me where were going. Why don't we go this way?"
"We can't."
"Why not?!"
"Because the trail goes this way, Emerald." Cinder pointed down the left trail.
Emerald pointed down the right. "There are two trails, Cinder!"
"It seems that way from here. But no. Fate has only one path."
Emerald set down her pack and folded her arms.
Cinder frowned at the attitude. "Okay, Emerald. Let's split up. You go your way, and I'll go mine."
"I don't want to split up, Cinder. I just want you to tell me what's going on."
"We can't split up, Emerald. That's my point. We will arrive at the same place. There's nothing we can do to escape it."
"Oh yeah?" Emerald sat down on her pack. "Well how about if I sit here and refuse to move? I could sit right here forever. That would really throw a wrench in all this Fate crap you keep talking. And quite frankly, I don't feel like taking another step until you tell me where were heading."
A tree collapsed behind them. Emerald turned. Two-hundred meters away stood the largest Ursa she's ever seen. And it was so close, she wondered why she hadn't sensed it sooner. Had it just popped out of thin air? The Ursa grabbed a redwood in its jaws, pulled it up, and tossed it away.
Then it sniffed the air, roared, and charged.
Cinder sprinted left.
Emerald ran right. The Ursa chased her. Of course it did.
She cursed all the gods she could think of. She burned aura sprinting, and the trees became blurs around her. The Ursa was falling behind. She leaped part way up a trunk and bounded from there up another. She missed urban running. Leaping branch to branch felt like rooftop hopping with the cops.
She backtracked over the Ursa's head, then leaped again when it lost track of her. She saw it searching in the wrong direction. As it brushed against the trees, the whole canopy swayed. Its Grimm Whispers tickled her mind. She was too angry to care. She wanted to sit at the trailhead and prove Cinder wrong.
The Ursa grunted lazily and wandered away. Emerald sighed, relieved. She reached for her compass, where her pack had been. She'd lost it. And she'd lost herself.
An hour later, tangled in vines and unhappy thoughts, her aura finally depleted. She'd burned it running and jumping. Now she was bleeding, alone, and exhausted in the wild. But at least Cinder was wrong about something: Emerald was nowhere near the trail.
A hand pierced the bush. Emerald sighed, then accepted it. Cinder pulled her to her feet, and Emerald was back on the trail. She swore.
Cinder smiled. "Hello again, Emerald. You know, the best advice you ever gave me was, 'Don't sail against the wind.'"
Emerald squinted. "I don't remember saying that."
"It was a long time ago." Cinder offered her a bandage roll, then noted, "Oh. We're here."
She pointed to a stone cemetery. Emerald had run dry of anger. She accepted today's defeat and followed Cinder to the graves.
As she entered the graveyard, her foot stepping over a pebble threshold, a faceless dread seized her. She looked at Cinder.
Cinder raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Emerald?"
Emerald scanned the tree line. She couldn't see or hear what had spooked her. But the dread was there, making her bones ache.
She swallowed. "I dunno. Just… I've got a bad feeling about this place."
Cinder had a smile for every occasion. This one was a tight curling of a single dimple. She'd stopped at the cemetery's center, and was now watching Emerald, awaiting her analysis.
Emerald didn't like it. "Cinder? Why are we here?"
"Perfectly phrased," Cinder praised.
Emerald felt a chilly tingle as her hairs all stood on end. She repeated, "Why did we come here, Cinder?"
Cinder held her arms out. "Read the grave markers, Emerald. You've been here before."
That episode killed Emerald's curiosity.
Another moment stood out to her. Cinder told her they needed to recruit a new friend. So there was a long walk, and Emerald let Cinder navigate, and they finally climbed a tree by a homestead and waited.
At night, the house lit on fire. The wall exploded, and a body was tossed free.
Cinder offered Emerald a snack.
The body stood up, and a boy emerged from the fire.
Emerald ate and witnessed the incredible battle between father and son.
The boy, Mercury Black, emerged the victor, though he limped.
Instead of "Hello," Cinder said to him, "We need an assassin. Come with us."
Mercury panted. He looked at his dead father. He looked at Cinder and panted, "Sure."
Emerald's jaw dropped.
"Don't judge," Cinder cooed. "You only needed a minute of persuading."
At their next campfire, Mercury asked, "So, where to?"
"Trust me. Don't ask," Emerald advised.
Cinder cast a disapproving look at her. To Mercury, she said, "We're going to Ditch. I'm going to become the Fall Maiden."
Mercury shrugged. "Whatever."
Emerald was too afraid to ask.
Ditch was a settlement on a dried canal. Cinder brought them to a farm outside the city, to the easement footpath that cut the field, where the farmer had marked his crops with a fence. Cinder paced in the road, walked in tight circles, examined the ground, and then looked to the horizon.
She said, "Here. We wait here."
"For the Fall Maiden," Emerald added.
"Yes."
Mercury asked, "And you want me to kill her?"
"Not by yourself. Emerald has a semblance. Amber will come to us willingly. I want you to immobilize her."
An hour later, Amber arrived, a silhouette on the horizon, mounted on a horse. Emerald focused. She hadn't practiced her semblance since leaving Mistral. She imagine herself as a small child, hungry and all alone. And then she imagined it from Amber's perspective. And the image appeared. Amber slowed to a stop as she approached. She kept her eyes focused on the hallucination, a frown of sympathy playing out on her svelt features. She dismounted, and the horse nervously backed away from Cinder and Mercury.
Amber gripped it by the reigns and pulled it back to her.
"Hey! Innocence, calm down, you unruly grump. We can't be afraid of every stranger we meet." Emerald didn't imagine the other two. So Amber didn't see them.
Amber looked at Emerald the way a mother should have. She reached into a satchel and offered an apple. "Are you alright, little girl? Are you hungry? Why are you alone?"
Cinder put a knife in Innocence, euthanizing the horse by cut. Emerald put the horse's whinnies out of her mind, and thus out of Amber's.
Amber repeated, "Are you alright? Here, you can have this. It's okay."
Emerald accepted the apple. The horse collapsed.
Cinder cleaned her blade and said, "Your turn, Mercury."
Mercury drew a dust blade. He circled Amber, analytical and intellectual.
Emerald imagined crying and telling a story about a Grimm attack. Amber shushed her with assurances.
Mercury finally decided, "Her aura's too strong. I can't pierce it on the first hit. But I definitely can in three."
Cinder shook her head. "You won't get a third hit."
"Then we need to weaken her aura somehow. Emerald?"
Emerald nodded. She imagined showing Amber a wound on her leg. Amber grimaced. And in an act that tested Emerald's cynicism, she reached out and willingly gave away a piece of her aura. The stream flowed through their contact and straight into Emerald's heart. This was the kindest gesture ever made to her. And she was betraying it.
Mercury grunted, "Cool," And drove the knife into Amber's kidney.
Amber shrieked and fell to her knees. Mercury flicked a switch on the dagger's hilt and electricity arced over Amber's skin. She gave the rest of her aura unwillingly. A battery ejected from the knife and smoked as it rolled away.
Cinder pulled a white glove from her pouch and slipped her hand into it. The palm bore the sigil of an eye. The eye blinked. Emerald wondered if she was the one hallucinating.
Amber tried to stand. Mercury grabbed a shoulder, and Emerald grabbed the other. Together, they forced her back to her knees.
Then Amber saw Cinder, and she struggled suddenly with all of her might. She looked to Mercury. "You don't know what you're doing! She's going to destroy everything! If you don't let me go, everyone is going to die!"
Mercury shrugged. "What will be, will be."
Amber looked to Emerald. And in that girl's eyes, Emerald saw belief. Emerald, for a moment, believed her.
She decided, "I don't sail against the wind."
Cinder grabbed Amber's chin, demanding her attention. She looked angry, furious in a way Emerald had never seen her.
Cinder sneered, "Don't you remember, Sister? It's a cycle. Like the changing of the seasons."
Cinder's glove merged into her skin, a bug crawled out of her palm, and Amber screamed and shook. When the bug spat black goo onto Amber's face, Emerald looked away to save her stomach.
She looked just in time to see a wild animal charging at them. She took another second to realize it was the wildest kind, a disheveled huntsman with a modern weapon. She took another second to sidestep his attack. The huntsmen severed the black goo and spit whiskey into Mercury's eyes. But he was too drunk to carry on that momentum. He staggered around until Mercury lunged at him. He sobered up instantly and tossed the young assassin like a bag of potatoes. But he'd shown his back to Emerald. She lunged, thinking him exposed.
The huntsman was a dancing man. Emerald landed on top of Mercury, whiskey in her eyes, and punted hard below the belt.
By the time she stood, the huntsman was half-way down the road with Amber in his arms. Cinder had collapsed in convulsions.
A week later, Emerald and Mercury sat at a fire. Cinder lay in the tent with a high fever.
Merc said, "My mom died of flu."
Emerald asked, "Do you think Amber was telling the truth? Does Cinder want to destroy everything?"
"Amber said whatever she thought would let her survive."
Emerald couldn't think of an answer. Cinder sat up from her cot, joined them, and sniffed the pot boiling over the fire.
She scolded, "You shouldn't have let me sleep all day," as if she hadn't been sick for a week. Emerald looked to Merc. He shrugged. Emerald shrugged back.
Cinder noted, "I'm missing a slipper."
Mercury gestured over his shoulder. "Should we, uh, go back for it?"
"No. Let's not endanger our victory. We should celebrate."
She had a satchel, the one Amber dropped in the fight. She pulled two pristine apples from it. She handed them out, then drew a pineapple, then two eggplants, then a handful of grain, then loaves of bread, and finally a pumpkin twice the sack's size.
Emerald realized something absurd was happening. She asked, "Is that bag magic?"
She looked to Mercury.
He bit his apple and spoke while chewing. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth."
Emerald never followed advice. She turned to Cinder.
"The bag is magic, right?"
Cinder smiled and tossed the satchel to Emerald. Emerald flipped it open. Empty. Cinder pulled cinnamon and cocoa beans from her pockets.
She cooed, "The bag isn't magic, Emerald. I am."
She giggled. "What did I tell you? Follow me and you'll never go hungry again."
She dropped the food and clutched her head, grunting.
Merc asked, "You alright?"
Cinder took a moment of silence. Then she hissed, "We weren't entirely successful. I can still… Feel her. She still has half the powers."
She released her head and faked a smile for Emerald. Though she wore the façade of composure, one eye had turned bloodshot.
A month later, they left mud country for Vale. Emerald missed city life like a drug. She could feel the Vale's beats and rhythms. She heard it sing through alleys and streets. She'd heard Roman Torchwick whistling as he fondled Dust gems. And if she wasn't engaged with Cinder, she might have signed on with his crew. Roman Torchwick was going places, like the tops of bank towers. And he was bringing cash with him. But Emerald wasn't going hungry, and she'd seen what Cinder could do with only half of the Fall Maiden's power.
She'd bound her fate with Cinder's. She reminded herself of that before every confrontation with Roman. Like this one.
Cinder and Emerald stopped at the docks, outside a warehouse. A month ago, Team RWBY had raided this hideout. Roman remade the paperwork and resumed business in a single day. And not a single cop had come sniffing. Emerald smiled and shook her head.
Cinder took note. "Something on your mind, Emerald?"
Cinder's expressions were harder to read now. She'd grown her hair out, and always had a bang covering her bloodshot eye.
Emerald gestured over her shoulder. "I feel like we should have brought Merc for this."
Cinder shook her head. "Roman is familiar with physical violence. He fears no man."
She gestured for Emerald to open the door, and then stepped through like a Queen. Emerald, just behind her, froze at what she saw.
"Where'd all the dust go?!" Her voice echoed in the empty warehouse. Not empty: at the room's center was a folding table, two chairs, and Roman.
"I told you we couldn't trust him," Emerald snapped.
"Patience," Cinder cooed.
They took another step forward, and White Fang huntsmen left the shadows around them. Cinder's hand stopped Emerald's from reacting. They were surrounded by five of Remnant's most wanted assassins. Cinder leaned closer to Emerald and repeated, "Patience."
Roman gave a curt signal. "Thank you, Umbra. I think they understand."
The White Fang's Shadow Pact merged with the shadows, and Emerald realized she was outclassed by their stealth. She followed Cinder to the table, but stood a respectful distance away, and didn't reach for her weapons. She busied herself by scanning the shadows and finding nothing.
Cinder sat.
Roman held out his hands in welcome. "Don't look so tense. They're well trained. And they know who their boss is."
"Cinder is the boss," Emerald asserted.
Roman pointed at her. "That one needs a shorter leash."
Cinder asked, "Where is the Dust?"
Roman smiled at that. "I made it disappear."
Cinder returned the smile. "I love magic tricks. But the trick isn't done until you make it reappear."
"Look, Ember-"
"Cinder."
"What?"
"My name is Cinder."
Roman pointed. "Who's she?"
"I'm Emerald."
"Whatever. Look, Sweetie, I've got this whole town running scared. You need me to make the Dust come back. But I don't need you. So if you want the Dust back, you cut me in on the end game."
He leaned back in his chair, his terms laid on the table.
Cinder cocked her head. "I'm not sure I understand. You think you know what we're doing. But you don't strike me as the type who would want to be part of our end game."
She didn't offer anything else.
Roman sighed. "You want to know where the Dust is right now? On the market. And let me tell you: There is de-mand. So we can talk about this for as long as you'd like. In fact: Henchman! Cinders is here! Be a dear and bring us some refreshments!"
A little huntress entered the room with a nice suit, tri-colored hair, bi-colored eyes, and a silver tray bearing a giant glass egg. Some master gem cutter had made this thing sparkle so brilliantly it was opaque. Neapolitan set the tray on the table's center, then removed the top half of the egg by its handle. Inside was a selection of wines nested in ice.
She offered a glass to Cinder.
Cinder smiled across the table, at Torchwick. "I'd like to show you a magic trick of my own, Roman."
Cinder's eye twinkled. The glass egg jiggled, then burst into flames. The flames dissipated, but the egg had been remade in gold.
The henchman stepped back in fear. She looked to Roman.
Roman considered. He licked his lips, but nodded and quietly clapped. "That's impressive. But if you're trying to bribe me, you need a lot more."
"I won't bribe you, Roman. It's an investment tip."
"Gold?"
"Gold. And for every unit of gold, two units of silver."
Her eye twinkled again, brighter, sharper. The golden egg immolated, then gently split into two, remade in silver. Where the wine bottles made the halves lean apart, water dripped through the partition. Roman understood that his reward was diminishing.
He scowled. "Sweetie, you're not making the sale here. Look, I get if you're an underling and you aren't allowed to negotiate. The White Fang keeps saying that this has the mark of Salem all over it. She your boss? I wanna talk to her."
Cinder's expression dropped. With fatal sincerity, she advised, "No. You don't."
Roman shrugged and leaned back. "The mystery act is getting old. I want in on the end game. Understand me? With the amount of money you're willing to throw my way, the payout for you must be huge. I want a fairer share, see?"
"There is no payout, Roman."
"What? No, no, no. Phase one. You called it Phase One." He held up a finger. "Phase One: We stole all the Dust."
"Yes."
He raised a second finger. "Phase Two, we secured the monopoly."
"Yes."
"There aren't many things Phase Three can be. Either you've got a well-guarded bank or a client who wants to pay extra for bulk. Or maybe Salem just wants all the Dust for herself. Well I'm not just handing it over."
"No."
"No what?"
"We aren't taking the Dust, Roman. And we aren't selling it. There's no money to be made here."
Roman looked confused, then incredulous, then angry. "So what do you care if I keep it here or not? It doesn't even make sense to store Dust like that! It's easier for the cops to find, and, let's be honest, one mistake from these animals and the whole thing goes…"
And then Roman understood the plan.
A second later, Emerald realized, "Boom."
Cinder nodded.
Roman's jaw hung open. He pointed at Cinder. "You're insane."
Cinder gestured between them, to indicate them both. "Who's crazier? The lunatic, or the man who-"
"Not me," Roman snapped. "And I'm not helping you make a bomb. I'm out."
He stood, pushed his chair out, and turned to leave, but then pivoted back.
"And I'm taking my egg with me."
He reached for it.
Cinder cast a sharp glance, her eye glowed bronze, and a golden tear bled from her eye socket. As Roman gripped the egg, it dissolved into bullets. The wine fell and shattered. And the bullets, stained red, spilled from his hands and over the table, ringing as they bounced.
Roman didn't have a quip for that.
Cinder wiped the gold tear from her cheek, then stood from her chair. "Gold, Roman. And for every unit of Gold, two of Silver. And for every unit of silver, twenty of lead. Or all that you have will be taken from you."
Roman didn't like that threat. He shouted, "Umbra!"
No one answered. Because Emerald was right: Cinder was the boss. They recognized the powers of the Fall Maiden.
Cinder smirked. "Salem has already spoken to you, Roman. The commands she's given you in nightmares should be obeyed."
His pupils contracted. His hair stood on end. Emerald saw that his henchman read the same reaction. She glanced to him, and inherited his fear.
Cinder's smirk mellowed to a smile. "I have one more investment tip, Roman. The world is being remade. It will be purified in a crucible. It will be struck against an anvil. And then it will be cast in molten gold. Stop worrying about what you have to gain. Worry instead about the things you cannot afford to lose."
Cinder turned and walked out. Emerald followed the clicking of her glass heels.
They had their Dust back the next day. But Emerald now doubted Cinder. She had joined because Cinder promised a life of prosperity. Now she was talking about destruction.
Emerald didn't understand the plan. Instead of showing her the goal, Cinder was showing her the path.
And not even that, just the steps.
Forge transcripts from Haven Huntsman Academy of Mistral.
Join the Vytal Tournament.
Get Mercury into the Grand Finals.
Spy on team RWBY.
Spy on Pyrrha Nikkos.
The orders got weirder the longer they stayed.
Show your face as little as possible.
Avoid every camera, every Elysium Knight, every cop or soldier, and never look Ozpin in the eye.
They got bored of course, hiding in the room all day, asking her permission to get food or do anything. Sometimes they didn't ask permission. Emerald had caught wind of the name Tukson. She knew him from stories in Mistral. She brought Mercury along, and killed him to redeem her slaying of Amber. There were good days mixed in with the bad.
Then a Specialist arrived from Atlas. She was anonymous and terrifying and the most famous person in Remnant when she stepped out of her aircraft. Everyone wanted to peek at one of Atlas' most terrifying assets. So they snuck out to see. And they snuck back in when they saw. The first person to greet the specialist, was a Vale Ranger named Qrow Branwen.
At first glance, he was a drunk bum who stumbled into her path and insulted General Ironwood. But when the Specialist drew her saber and threatened to cut out his tongue, he gave her a duel so awesome and precise that crowds gathered to cheer.
Emerald and Mercury ran. They recognized Qrow. He was the huntsman who'd rescued Amber.
The pieces formed in Emerald's mind. She understood why Qrow Branwen and Specialist Winter had come to Vale. They were hunting for Cinder Fall.
The whole world was hunting her.
Emerald checked her school uniform in the mirror, then lay prone on her dorm bed at Beacon Academy, and watched out the window as the skyline beckoned. Beside her, Mercury quietly worked through his sit-ups. She wondered if she should photograph the buildings. Would she remember the city's beauty, or only her part in its destruction? She had a lot of questions about "this" and her role in "it." She wasn't sure if she wanted the answer.
She wondered, "Are we the bad guys?" then covered her mouth, realizing what she'd revealed. Mercury stopped his sit-ups.
He looked at her. She looked at him.
He raised an eyebrow. "Bad?"
"I feel kind of bad about Amber," she admitted.
Merc continued his sit-ups. "Yeah," he grunted. "She was cute."
"Do you ever think about all of the people we're hurting?"
"Tukson was your idea," Merc noted.
"He deserved it," she grumbled.
"And that Noir guy? Soleil?"
"Yeah, I'll get him if I can. The Shadow Pact might beat us to it."
"And General Ironwood?"
"Definitely."
"Weiss Schnee?"
"Cinder might not like that, but the Schnees-"
Mercury interrupted her. He rattled off names.
"Ozpin, Goodwitch, Blake, Cardin Winchester-"
Emerald agreed, "Tyrant, Enabler, Extremist, typical bully-"
"Every Atlas soldier, most cops, that mugger, Roman-"
"Yup, yup, yup, yup-"
"Emerald," he sighed, "Sometimes a whole city just has to go. Humans aren't supposed to gather this close. I'm sure a god would do the same thing."
Emerald nodded. She understood it. The reasoning struck her as sound. Then she balked at a realization.
"Wait. Are you moralizing?"
"I was just explaining your thoughts to you," he shrugged.
"How do you know my thoughts?"
"Whenever you get all pensive like that, I start thinking random girly crap. It's your semblance, right?"
She hid her face in a pillow, to crest the wave of embarrassment. She came up for air.
"Alright. So, why are you here, Merc?"
He stopped his sit-ups, rolled over, and began pushups. "Back before my dad tried to kill me, he'd have me do chores around the house. This one day, we decided to build a new shed from scratch. All the old had to go. So I emptied it out and set it on fire. It was, uh…"
His eyes unfocused as he pictured the memory. He smiled. His eyes refocused, on her, and the smile remained.
The door slid open, and Cinder entered in her Haven academy uniform and skirt.
She cooed, "Oh my. Am I interrupting?"
She leaned against the desk and flicked her scroll open. She'd been more interested in the insinuation than the answer.
"Em wants out," Mercury blurted.
"I never said that!"
Cinder sighed and set her scroll on the desk. "Mercury, take a walk, please."
He popped tall and hurried out to enjoy the night air.
Emerald buried her face in her hands. "I shouldn't have said anything," she mumbled.
"Not to Mercury," Cinder agreed.
But she sat next to Emerald like a friend, and waited for her to feel more comfortable.
"I'm sorry, Cinder." Emerald peeked through her hands to see Cinder's sharp and analytic frown. She wondered what went on behind those burning irises, in the darkness and silence between her bursts of revelation.
Cinder said, "You really want to leave."
Emerald lowered her hands. She owed Cinder her honesty, at least.
She nodded. "I think I made a mistake. I... Don't want... Was Amber telling the truth? Are you going to destroy the whole world?"
Cinder's eyes danced over her. Her analytic frown remained the thin, almost flat line at the tip of her expression.
"I have a duty. Something that I have to do. Something that I want to do, and that I am obligated to do, and that I couldn't escape if I wanted to."
"But… Are you going to-?"
"You get very uncomfortable when I answer your questions Emerald. You have to choose. Do you want to leave, or do you want to know?"
"Can I leave?"
"I won't stop you," Cinder said.
"But this whole Fate thing…"
Cinder nodded. "Don't sail against the wind."
"And that grave…"
"Yes."
Emerald licked her lips. "In my past life…" She laughed. It sounded ridiculous. But so was asking the Fall Maiden for advice. "The girl who's buried there… Did she use her semblance to steal and kill people?"
Cinder looked at the ground. She pursed her lips in thought. "That girl… Had a vision of me as I could be, upright and empowered. That girl showed me an image of what I could be. She told us stories of heroism and virtue, and showed us our heroes in vivid hues. I suppose you were a storyteller, emerald. You told me stories of people that I aspire to be in every moment."
"You think we're the good guys?"
"Are you in or are you out?"
Emerald wanted to belong. She belonged with Cinder. She belonged nowhere else. The moment she walked away, she was homeless and hungry and wasting her talent for scraps. Cinder respected her. Cinder was her friend. And the moment Emerald gave that away, she would have nothing but regret. And arguing the opposite was a piece of Amber's aura. That kindness would haunt her. She didn't want to cry in front of Cinder.
She said, "I'm in."
"And do you want to know the goal? I think it will be much easier for you if you only know your part."
"I don't want to kill anyone. Amber was an exception. I'm not a killer."
"And Tukson?"
"He was a monster!"
"You understood why Tukson had to die. Understand for a moment longer."
"Cinder, I don't want to do anymore of that!"
"I think you can make a third exception." Cinder took her scroll from the desk and handed it to Emerald. It held a schematic of Penny Polendina. Emerald blinked at it.
"I'm not going to kill another human," Emerald asserted.
"Think about what you're looking at," Cinder smiled.
Emerald followed the lines and graphs and illustrations. Someone- she checked the file path- someone from Atlas' Spooky R&D group- had drawn diagrams of Penny as if…
"She's a robot?"
Cinder nodded.
"She's not a person?"
Cinder shook her head.
"So…"
"So tomorrow, Mercury is facing off against Yang Xiao Long. He's going to lose gracefully. And then he's going to shake hands with Yang Xiao Long. Your job is to make her break his legs."
"That… That's horrible! I mean, I don't like him, but he's our friend!"
"His legs are cybernetic, Emerald. He already has his spares made. Talk to him about it. Back on task. After that fight, I've arranged for Pyrrha Nikkos to fight Penny Polendina."
Emerald was catching on. She interrupted. "Pyrrha's semblance! She'll tear Penny apart!"
Cinder nodded. "And the audience's reaction will embolden Grimm across Remnant."
"Wait, what?"
"All those people watching live? Every soul on Remnant will despair at once. Imagine the fervor of the Grimm swarms, delighting in that pain and panic."
Emerald saw now what Amber had tried to tell her. She felt that same mortal terror. Very cautiously, she advised, "But… Cinder… If we do that… Then…"
Cinder giggled, "Ashes to ashes."