Here we go. For those that didn't get any email yesterday, Null was updated. I just did it and Arcanum at the same time due to losing internet at home on Sunday, and I think the site doesn't like two at once and only send out alerts for one of the stories.

Cover Art: Serox

Chapter 8

Deery found Jaune down in the sewer reading a book on exorcisms. He was sat in a small ring of scented candles, the tang of chamomile thick in the air. He was also dressed in a black robe with a white collar, which she would have questioned if he wasn't a) her boss and b) chanting like he was about to summon an eldritch horror.

"Um. Boss?"

The chanting stopped. Jaune looked back. There was a white symbol drawn on his forehead. He watched her watching him and said, "I'm not insane."

"Okay? I… I didn't think you were?"

"I don't hear voices in my head."

"I…"

"I don't have a madman in my skull telling me to kill humans, burn down buildings and sleep with cat faunus."

"That last one was oddly specific…"

"But not relevant," he pressed, "Because I don't have any of those things."

Deery said the only thing she could. "Yes. That is obvious."

"Good." Standing, he brushed some flecks of candle off his clothing and stepped out the ring of salt he'd been kneeling within. The book was tossed away. "So. What's up? Did you need me for something?"

"We kind of have a visitor…"

"Police? Huntsmen?"

"Worse," Deery lamented. "Paparazzi."

"I'm not a photographer!" Lisa Lavender protested, pushing through the tunnel and into his chamber on two-inch long heels. He wouldn't have called it the prime way to make your way through a sewer and judging by the look on her face she'd realised that. "And I've spent the last two hours trudging through filth to get here."

"How do you even know where here is?" Jaune asked. "You were unconscious when we brought you here." He blinked and then sighed. "Did you really just wander aimlessly around the sewers hoping you'd bump into us?"

"No," Lisa lied.

"Bane found her wandering the sewers aimlessly," Deery chimed, earning a heated glare from the woman. "Took pity on her. Also, she's seen us all without masks now so… yeah. You may want to Adam her."

"Adam me?"

"I'm not killing her," Jaune said.

"Yes. Yes, I like this decision. Don't Adam me."

"And that's not a verb!"

"You don't need to Adam me anyway," Lisa said quickly. "Because I am now officially on your side!"

Jaune stared long and hard at the woman before saying, "I hope not. For your sake…"

"Well, not officially, no. That would be a terrible decision on my part. Unofficially."

"You want to join the White Fang?" Deery asked.

"No." Lisa swept in and strode toward him, lips curling up. "I've no interest in the White Fang or becoming some terrorist. What I want is to follow you-" She poked his chest. "-to whatever end you seek. I wish to join Jaune Arc, not the White Fang."

"They're kind of the same thing…"

"Silly girl. They're really not." Turning, she shot Deery a patronising smile. "The White Fang is a terrorist group that murders humans and doesn't do much to advance the cause of the faunus while doing so. It's an angry scout club for wronged children. This," she gestured to the sewer, "is a movement. It is history. It is a story in the making. It is change incarnate, and I shall be damned if I miss out on the biggest scoop of this decade."

"So, you're doing this for a story. That's a little pathetic…"

"Is it? I'd say extreme belief is more frightening. I'm less likely to burn someone's house down and murder their children. I'm also much more rational than someone like Adam Taurus could ever have been."

"Because that's setting the bar high," Deery muttered.

"And I bring a lot to the table," Lisa said, more to him than the other faunus. "I'm placed in the media; I have access to information ahead of time and I can monitor and control your presence as it's delivered to the masses."

All of which were good things; he didn't need to be an insurrectionist to see that. There was no question of whether he was going to accept her help or not – she knew where they were now, so he was pretty much hands tied. Even if he wasn't, it'd be a fool who said no. Adam probably would have. And killed her just for the sake of it. No one ever accused Adam of being smart, though.

If Lisa could help push out the message that he wasn't evil, people would start to believe it. Hopefully, anyway. It might not be immediate but even a single voice was better than none. If she could be trusted, that was.

"I thought you only acted against those manufacturers for vengeance…"

"I did." Lisa admitted it easily, but with a hint of sorrow. "I wanted to see them brought down more for what they did to me than what they were doing to other people. Don't get me wrong, it was terrible, but a career woman has to look out for herself."

"What changed? Helping me can't be the right career move. You'll get a big story, I know." He said it before she could interrupt. Not only would she get the big story but she'd technically be first on scene to everything they did, knowing about it in advance. It was a guarantee of her getting the scoop on any and all White Fang action. "You could have just acted as a mole for the same, though. Coming down here and pledging your loyalty could get you arrested." The only thing that made sense was that she wanted something else. "You want more than a story."

"Hm. You're perceptive. I normally hate that in men." She winked at him. "Here, though, it just makes me even more excited. You're right. I did this for revenge and I felt satisfaction when they were taken down, but there was something more as well. Something new." Her hands gripped her arms and she shivered. "I felt a thrill. Something hot and cold burning inside me. It was like I was watching something incredible, seeing history unfold before my eyes."

"It was just us busting a crooked CEO…"

"It was more than that!" she insisted. "This, it, Vale has been corrupt for a long time. Not horribly, I admit, but it's always been the case that the powerful get away with whatever they want while the poor suffer. The faunus typically fall into the latter, what with the discrimination. I don't know how to explain it. I've lived as a journalist since I graduated. I dreamed of being at the front of the action, revealing the truth as a huge story unfolds. When I reported your actions, I felt… I don't know what I felt. Excited. Bubbly. Fulfilled." He had the feeling she couldn't find the right words. Lisa shook her head. "I can't explain it, but I knew I couldn't just sit behind a desk and watch this go by. I had to be a part of it."

"And she calls me the extremist," Deery sighed.

"I can provide targets," Lisa said excitedly. Hungrily. "There's a police captain who lives better than he can afford. Roman Torchwick keeps getting out of prison, as do several other influential mob bosses. The last reporter to look too closely was found dead."

Jaune hissed through his teeth.

"Discriminatory laws are being pushed against faunus by a councillor," she went on, eyes shining brightly. "That councillor owns a controlling share in an arms manufacturing company based in Atlas, who have the contract for Vale's security and police forces."

"Wait," Deery said, "How does that make sense with anti-faunus laws?"

"Because they make the White Fang angry," Jaune finished, stomach dropping. "If he gets them angry enough, they're more likely to recruit and get violent, which means Vale needs more and more weaponry to combat it, which means the White Fang needs more…"

Deery looked as sick as he felt. That company was not only profiting off the conflict but fuelling it to make sure they got more money. And the people who should have been dealing with it were apparently under the pay of criminals.

"Is there more?" he asked.

"There's always more. The news never stops – people just get tired of hearing it. They don't want to know about corrupt officials because there's nothing they can do about it. They want gossip and drama and feel-good stories."

"Burying their heads in the sand…"

"It's that, but also fatigue," Lisa explained. "How long do you think it takes to drag a politician through court? It's not days. It takes weeks, months, maybe even the better part of a year if they have their lawyers drag it out – and they will. Do you think the average person wants to read the same news story over three hundred times? They get bored. They demand new content. Suddenly, we're forced to turn away from that story and cover other things."

"Meaning people forget about what the person did and he gets away with it."

"It happens all the time and if we try to run a story after to say what happened, people are too tired about it to care. Some will say it's a shame and others argue that maybe this is proof they were innocent all along. And who takes the blame for that? We do. We get dragged out for writing puff pieces when we apparently should have been covering a monumental case."

"Conveniently forgetting the fact that it's them who wanted you to stop covering it in the first place."

Lisa nodded. Man, being a journalist sounded like a thankless job. He wondered why anyone bothered. Probably as Lisa said, that you thought it was about truth, justice and all that good stuff when you were younger. It was probably the same as how the police or military talked about honour, protecting the weak and all that, but where the actual job was probably ninety per cent paperwork or back-breaking training respectively. It wasn't to say those jobs didn't have those elements, but they were never quite open with the frequency of it.

"What makes you think I can change that?" he asked.

"You're new. You're exciting. You're fast-paced." Lisa rattled them off like a sales pitch. "It takes months for a court case to get anywhere, where you can evoke change in a night. Maybe a week at the longest. People eat that up."

"By breaking the law…"

"Do you think the average reader cares about that? Sure, they wouldn't risk their freedom by doing so, but so long as bad people are exposed, they'll let you get away with it. The point is, people want to read about you. Hell, they wanted to read about Adam too, but usually in the `he's a psycho` kind of way. You don't have that reputation. You did, but after saving those people and exposing those managers, you've got people confused. Now is the time to capitalise on that."

Maybe Lisa should be the one running the White Fang. She certainly had a lead on what they should be doing. Still, if people were starting to accept he wasn't a monster, he couldn't stop now. It's working. If I keep this up, they'll warm up to the idea of me being a good guy.

The way out was ahead of him, and Lisa represented the best way to reach it. Even Deery was nodding, grudgingly agreeing with everything the older woman was saying. If so, then who was he to argue?

"I think we'd be happy to have you on board, Lisa. Will you need a mask?"

/-/

Lisa did, in fact, need a mask. Worse, she wanted to attend their next raid. Jaune had thoughts about that but couldn't help but think her idea of videoing the whole thing had some merit. They'd need to carefully edit it to remove any mentions of names – she assured them she would both do so and let them see the product before it was aired – but Lisa explained that showing things from their perspective, especially if their actions were heroic, would catapult their popularity into the stratosphere.

He couldn't help but agree. It was a dangerous idea, sure, but if people could literally watch them saving lives and helping people, then great. It would only go to prove how things were changing under him. The comparison between the White Fang run by Adam and the White Fang run by him would be so stark that the public would have to accept that he was the defining factor.

Jaune Arc was good. He was innocent. He was being falsely accused of his crimes.

The others had been quick to agree, their only real concerns being for their identities. He had a feeling Yuma and Trifa saw it more as a way to appeal to new recruits, but the others seemed genuinely on board with the idea of getting their message out there.

Ilia drew him aside after the meeting. Lisa and the White Fang were already chatting sans masks, getting on remarkably well for a human among faunus. It probably helped that she was leaning forward as she talked and Yuma's eyes were fixed well below her own.

"We need to talk," Ilia whispered. "Outside."

"Is there a problem?" he asked, following.

"Not with me. Sienna wants to talk with you."

"Who?"

"Sienna Khan." She said the name like he ought to know it. "Leader of the White Fang? Your boss?"

"Oh, that Sienna!" He laughed nervously, writing it off like he'd mistaken her for Sienna the baker down the street who made the best pop tarts. "She's here? No, she can't be." He'd be in trouble if so. "Is it a scroll call?"

Ilia nodded and brought him into another chamber. It was a fair distance away from the one with the others and had a ceiling far, far above. There was a metal grate there which flickered as cars went by overhead. They were under a major road, far enough down as to have no chance of being heard with the traffic above. In the centre of the room stood a rather large and ramshackle contraption. There was an antenna pointed up toward the entrance, a screen on one side and a muffled set of speakers above that.

"Is that a CCT?"

"It's a prototype stolen from Atlas," she explained, fiddling with some dials. "We were looking for military hardware and found this. We were disappointed at first, but long-distance communication that bypasses the CCT turned out to be worth a lot more than tanks or guns."

He could imagine. There was that old saying that information was power and you couldn't boost a signal beyond the city limits without going to the CCT Tower, which he recalled was near Beacon. Even if you went to a smaller call centre in the city to do so, all the information ran through the CCT itself. The authorities could probably go through or intercept it if they had reason to.

This is probably the most valuable asset we have. How did they smuggle this into the city? Did they bring it in pieces and build it down here? If so, that was impressive. Jaune swallowed and adjusted his collar as Ilia worked, half wondering if he should have brought his mask and then deciding that might send the wrong message to his apparent boss.

What did he do if she asked him if he was a faunus? Well, lie, obviously, but what did he claim to be? What if she wanted him to do something terrible? What if she was angry at him saving those people and wanted to punish him?

Too many questions. Not enough answers.

A whirring sound came from the device and its antenna moved a little, re-aligning automatically as Ilia stepped back and motion for him to take the spot before the monitor. There must have been a camera there to show his image. Swallowing, he moved forward, linking both hands behind his back in what he hoped was a confident pose.

The screen flickered. The image was grainy but the antenna continued to shift on its own and the picture became clearer. A woman sat on a wooden chair before him. Dark skin, darker lines like stripes across her bare arms. The flowing robes gave her an exotic air, though her skin and stripes would have done that even without it. She was beautiful, he couldn't help but think. Confident, powerful and dangerous.

Much too dangerous for him to want to be close to.

"Jaune Arc."

"Miss Sienna."

Ilia choked and the woman on the screen raised a single eyebrow, leaning her cheek down onto one hand, elbow on the armrest of her chair. "Miss? I've never been called that before." Chuckling, she said, "You may call me Sienna. Also, look down a little. I don't want to look up your nose."

"Oh." He did as asked. "Sorry. I can't tell where the camera is."

"Ha Ha." Sienna laughed again, closing her eyes. "You're not quite what I expected. To hear the recruits speak of you, I expected someone taller, wider and with more presence. Someone like Adam."

Thinking of the man somehow stuck in his head – or his soul; he really wasn't sure yet – Jaune frowned. "I'm nothing like Adam."

"I can tell. Adam is dead. You are not." Did everyone have to keep bringing that up? "I did not call for mere pleasantries, however. Your progress has not gone unnoticed back in Menagerie. Your work so far has gone some way to alleviating concerns over your… rapid promotion within the ranks. You've done well, Jaune."

"I… uh… aim to please?"

"I'm glad to hear it. You'll have no problem continuing to please, then. We have decided that due to your current actions, it's a prime opportunity to rebuild the Vale branch. Funds are being transferred to an account you can utilise. Ilia will receive the details from the Albain brothers soon. A warehouse has been purchased and transferred to a holding account for your use."

They had a base? While it would be nice to move out the sewers, there was a certain security to it that he knew would be missing up top. On the other hand, he couldn't just say no to what was meant to be a generous gift. Well, and a direct order, but the orders came wrapped as a gift.

"Already?" he asked nervously. More people meant more confusion and difficulty controlling them. What if someone ended up undoing all his good work by being a racist and hurting someone? It was hard to remember with all the others being so normal, but they were still terrorists. "I was hoping to build more of a reputation before making that move," he lied. "Take advantage of having a smaller team."

"Your core team can remain as it is but you will need resources. Do this and I may be able to provide more. I will expect continued success from you. I will be watching, as will everyone in the White Fang. The Albain brothers have also provided a small gift for you, with the message that they are excited to see what you will achieve with it. We will speak again in a week. I expect to hear that you have begun recruitment in that time."

Or he'd be replaced. Jaune nodded glumly. "I'll see it done."

"Good. I will speak with you soon."

The call ended abruptly. Jaune sagged, sighing and lamenting the pounding headache he could feel coming on. That had been both less and more terrifying than he'd expected. He'd come out alive and unchallenged at the end of it – she hadn't even asked if he was a faunus – but now she expected all sorts of things to be done, and if he didn't do it then she'd start to ask why.

They're terrorists, he reminded himself. I'm not going to get a written warning for letting her down. The only thing I'll get in writing is an obituary.

"That went well."

Jaune looked to Ilia desperately. "Did it? Did it, though?"

"Sienna and Adam always used to butt heads. They hated one another. I don't think she'd have ever given him a gift or acknowledge him no matter what he achieved."

"With how everyone goes on about Adam, I'm wondering why anyone even followed him…"

Ilia shrugged. "He was strong. We didn't have to like his personality."

Great. And he had said person in his dreams. Worse, Adam wasn't even strong in his head, which meant his only apparent redeeming quality was gone. "I didn't want to start recruiting this soon," Jaune said.

"Didn't you just recruit Lisa?"

"That's different. And I really think we shouldn't say that to Sienna."

"There's a reason I didn't," Ilia said. "It's not lying if we forget to mention it."

"I like the way you think, Ilia."

"Thanks." She rolled her eyes but did smile. "There's no helping it, though. If Sienna says she's expecting results, that means you're going to have to get them. It's worse with the Albain brothers so interested."

"And they are…?"

"Just think of them as other important White Fang people, but they prefer behind the scenes stuff. They're the face of the White Fang in Menagerie so they have a lot of power. They used to promote Adam as a successor to Sienna. Looks like they've decided you're next."

"Are they dangerous?"

"Not directly, but they can turn a lot of people against us. It'd be best if we didn't disappoint them."

Great. Perfect. Jaune sighed into his palm. He'd really hoped to delay on the whole base and recruitment thing, preferably until after his name was cleared so he could hand himself in, escape, and leave it to someone else to handle. No such luck now.

"I guess we should check out our new base…"

Ilia nodded. "I'll tell the others."

/-/

"I want to help."

"You are already helping, Miss Belladonna." They were not the words Blake wanted to hear from the headmaster. She clenched her hands into fists under the table and tried not to glare at him. "Information on the White Fang is worth more to us than the efforts of a single person. We are acting on what you have told us."

"With all due respect, it's not enough. They're still out there."

The headmaster chuckled. "Not all action has to be obvious, or immediate. Whatever their intent and our misgivings, it would be a bad idea to move against Jaune Arc now, when he has just done the city a service."

"It's a distraction. A smokescreen."

"I agree." He held up a hand to stop her. "I completely agree, Miss Belladonna. They are at the end of the day a terrorist group. That said, not everyone feels that way."

How? How could anyone think otherwise? Blake wanted to scream and wring someone's neck. Were people blind? Did they not realise this person had killed before? Or was it okay that he killed since it was just Adam? Just a bad person. No problems if he gets murdered.

"So, you're not going to do anything?"

"I didn't say that. While I'm not at liberty to share our methods with a student," he stressed her position, "I can say that we are searching for them. It's not as though we can wander Vale in the hopes of bumping into them, can we?"

"It worked for Ruby…"

"Yes." Ozpin sighed. "And Miss Rose is fortunate no ill came of that meeting."

"What if I could find something?" she pressed. "If I found out where they were located?"

"Then by all means, we would act on it. We're not ignoring the White Fang, Miss Belladonna. With the Vytal Festival approaching, it could spark an international incident if we did. If you know of where they might be or are able to find evidence, then I shall have a huntsman act upon it to bring Mr Arc to justice. I simply don't want you rushing into danger on some ill-advised campaign against your former companions."

Hadn't that just been what she said she'd do? Or did he think she meant looking through newspapers or on the computer? Probably the latter. Blake nodded, eager to keep the headmaster thinking that way. "I'll do some searching," she said, standing. "If I find anything, I'll bring it straight to you. Is that okay?"

"Of course. I'll look forward to the results of your research."

Research. Yeah. Sure. Totally. There was a weekend coming up and her team were being downright impossible lately, ever since the truth of her past came out. Weiss was on edge, admittedly for good reason, and Yang and Ruby were being obnoxious with trying to force her and Weiss to spend time together and make up. Time would heal those wounds, while forcing them to confront the issue was only going to make it worse.

"You will remember, of course, that you are not to leave Beacon would an escort," Ozpin said quickly. "And that you need to both ask permission from a teacher and inform us of where you will be going and wear a tracking device. This was part of your agreement to be allowed into Beacon."

"I remember." Humiliating as it was, it was a small price to pay compared to imprisonment. "I'm fine with that. I was just thinking of going shopping for some dust this weekend."

His eyes narrowed. "Miss Belladonna…"

"Only dust," she promised, lying through her teeth. "I need it for my Semblance."

"And Miss Schnee cannot provide?"

"We're not on good terms right now…"

"Of course. How could I forget?" He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I will sign off on this little excursion provided you travel with Miss Rose or Miss Xiao-Long. If you are thinking of endangering yourself, I would ask you not only to not do so but also to think of how your actions might drag your friends into danger. I have someone handling this."

He might have, but they didn't know the White Fang like she did.

/-/

Tukson located the building online and found directions for them to reach it. Thankfully, it was late enough at night that no one paid much attention to two black vans driving down the industrial district. They pulled through a set of open gates and into a parking lot. A low brick wall hid them from view, allowing them out into the night air.

The building rose up before them, squat and ugly with a large billboard featuring a grossly smiling face of some toy brand mascot. A hideous cross between a bicycle and a dog with an inhuman grin. Under it, the bold and bubbly writing suggested the building had once been a depot for a children's toy manufacturer, probably before computer games became the norm and pushed them out of business.

"Okay, that creeps me out," Yuma said, looking up at it. "Am I the only one?"

"It's hideous," Perry said. "Can we paint over it?"

"Paint what?" Deery asked. "White Fang Incorporated?"

"It'd be the perfect double bluff. No one would dare think we were White Fang with that message on our front door."

"The sign stays," Jaune said, sighing as his sneakers hit the ground. "And can we hurry it up? I don't feel safe us all being out like this in the open. Let's check the place out, see what we're working with and then go back to our nice, comfy sewer."

"Or we could stay here," Trifa said.

"Or we could not," he replied.

"But the sewer smells…"

"The sewer is good for you, young lady. Eat your sewer."

Trifa blinked. "What?"

"What?" Jaune echoed, and then ignored the conversation entirely. "Come on. Apparently, there's a gift waiting inside. I hope it's a fruit basket. I'm getting a little tired of bacon and eggs every morning. No, Bane, that wasn't an insult. It's okay." He rubbed the huge man's arm, instantly contrite as the towering mass of muscle took the complaint personally. "You make the best breakfasts; I just need some Vitamin C. Lisa, why are you recording this?"

"Practice," she replied, holding a large camera on her shoulder. There were hundreds of smaller and handheld varieties he'd seen before, but she was determined she needed a proper one. "It's been a while since I had to film so I need the practice. I won't publish this, obviously. It would give the base's location away."

And man, that would be such a shame. Why, they might even have to stay in the sewer and put off the recruitment as the warehouse was raided. Tch. Awful. It would set them back weeks. Months, even. Ilia crushed his dreams by pushing the camera down and shaking her head. Lisa, now with her very own White Fang mask that did little to hide her distinctive lavender-coloured hair, pouted but turned it off.

He couldn't catch a break.

Ilia approached the front door and typed the code provided into the aging lock system. It beeped and clicked, the door pushing open under her hand. "The message from Fennec says it was bought by a sympathiser in the city. They wouldn't say who, probably to protect them."

"Oooh. That sounds interesting."

"Down, Lisa," Jaune said. "No hunting down someone on our side. What about this gift Sienna mentioned?"

"Nothing in the message. Guess we'll have to find it."

Yuma walked into the main warehouse part and paused. He looked up and opined, "Found it."

"Already?" Jaune sighed. "What are we looking aaaaa-"

Huge segmented plates of white and grey adorned a hulking figure stood against the back wall of the warehouse, kneeling on one foot and yet still so large that its head and shoulders brushed up against the ceiling. No professional when it came to military hardware, he'd still watched enough Saturday morning cartoons to recognise a fucking mech when he saw one. Weapons bristled over its arms, each looking powerful enough to incinerate a police car at several hundred metres.

The small group of White Fang stood before its left foot, Bane at the tallest and still not reaching up to its knees. Their heads craned back, mouths dropping open. Jaune was the first to speak, though it came out as a loud and angry cry.

"HOW IS THIS A SMALL GIFT!?"

Wait a minute. Jaune running a terrorist group. A journalist joining them. A robot. Did this become Code Geass without me noticing? Ironically, that's a complete accident on my part. I'm just using the stuff the White Fang got provided in canon and throwing in Lisa, but it's funny how as soon as I wrote this scene I was like "wait… Lelouch?"

Except, you know, the strategy, intellect and ability to control people's minds with his Geass.

Next Chapter: 25th February

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur