Dr. Caitlin Schnee embraced her wife tightly as soon as she saw her eyes open although she quickly regretted it when she remembered what a fragile state she was in. Alice managed a weak smile upon seeing her, but she was sickened again when the memories started flooding back to her. The doctor and nurses kept asking her questions she couldn't bring herself to answer, all the while sticking fresh needles into her and checking all of her vital signs. Her wife was pacing, fidgeting with her purse and glasses, and all the sounds Alice could here felt almost distant. Everything about her felt heavy, and her head was pounding. Part of her wanted to scream, or run, but she was too weak to do either.

It was if something had shut off or, maybe, something had returned to haunt her. She couldn't have been able to say if she tried. Besides, the world was spinning so much around her that she did not trust herself to speak. Her thoughts were disjointed at best, and even what was happening right with her was almost impossible to comprehend. It was terrible, overwhelming, and it only made her feel worse. She barely knew where she was, and she felt almost like the tortured little girl she had once been. Then there was silence and she knew she was alone with her wife, who hesitantly sat down on the edge of her hospital bed and took her hand loosely in hers, squeezing it lovingly.

"Al, I'm so sorry…" She murmured. "About everything."

"Don't," Alice hoarsely choked out. "Don't make me feel worse."

She bit her lip. "Can I get you anything?"

Alice weakly shook her head and Cate sighed heavily.

"Winter told me what happened," She finally said. "And, honestly, I'm just relieved you're okay. Apparently the police forced the homeowners to vacate and have declared the entire property a crime scene."

"Good…" Alice said softly. "Because it always has been."

Cate gently kissed her hand. "I wish there were more I could do, but I think they're doing all that can be done."

Alice said nothing, tears rising in her eye. She flinched when she reached to adjust the silk she usually kept over her missing one, realizing her powers had singed them off. Cate paused for a moment but then pulled one of her wife's silvery-blue silk coverings out of her purse, brushed the hair away from over her missing eye, and delicately secured it on her.

"How long are they planning to keep me here?" Alice mumbled. "I don't know if I can take it."

"If your vitals stay alright, they'll probably discharge you tomorrow evening," Cate told her quietly. "I hope that'll be the case."

Alice started sobbing when Cate loosely embraced her as best she could.

"Me too…" She got out through sobs. "Me too, love…"

Cate softly kissed her. "It'll be alright," She promised, praying they would be.

Alice sniffed through tears. "I owe you so much, love…"

"No, that's not how this works," Cate told her, words sharp but voice soft. "Neither of us owe the other a goddamn thing."

She turned suddenly, as if she were scared, upon hearing the doors to the room slide open, although she felt silly when she realized it was only Spencer who was arguing loudly with the lead doctor who had been overseeing Alice's condition.

"Mister Ciel, Colonel Schnee has serious fractures in her ribs, and it is in her best interests to prescribe her oxycodone hydrochloride tablets," The doctor snapped. "It will ease the pain during the healing process—"

"No!" Cate and Spencer yelled at the same time.

"I'm a pharmaceutical researcher with a PhD," Cate said haughtily. "And prescribing something that addictive —"

"In restrained conditions, Dr. Schnee, you are incorrect —"

"No, she's right," Spencer sighed heavily and pushed up his sleeves, revealing the damage done over the years. "I was in controlled conditions years ago, and, since then, I've been a victim of both addiction and overdoses."

The doctor grimaced and took in a sharp breath before she turned to Alice.

"Colonel Schnee?"

"Anything but," She coughed out. "He's right."

The doctor nodded shortly. "Of course, Colonel Schnee."


Atlesian President Annabella Sassler paled considerably upon hearing the end of the report.

"They were attempting to reconstruct people's blood to create quote un quote perfect humans?" She repeated, her throat completely dry. "How sick are these people? How many of them are still out there?"

"I'm afraid we don't know, Madame President," Her top security advisor grimly replied. "But Torchwick is already in prison for multiple life sentences and in maximum security, and we will use that to our advantage in interrogating him on the matter. After all, it was in his home and, of course, his daughter only found out about this approximately twenty hours ago and, when his son was questioned, he was in shock as well."

Sassler shook her head. "This is despicable, absolutely despicable."

"Agreed, Madame President," Another one of her advisors said, looking grim. "But there is unfortunately more to consider. The time frame in which these atrocities, the police speculate, were committed align with the professional connection between Torchwick and Arthur Watts."

Sassler frowned. "Arthur Watts? The former scientist and doctor infamous for human experimentation?"

He nodded shortly. "I'm afraid so."

"Watts and Torchwick were likely responsible for the scene discovered yesterday," The FBI Director put in. "Which, I warn you is gruesome. The remains have yet to be identified but the corpse was...disturbingly well preserved. The authorities think that the victim was probably within the range of twelve to sixteen years old."

Sassler looked rather ill at the thought.

"Watts is also completely untraceable at the moment," He continued. "We will do our best to discern his location but he, so far as we know, is off the grid."

"Damn it," Sassler muttered. "That man has been on the loose for far too long."

The five security advisers shared long, knowing looks in the Atlesian President's heavy silence.

"Well," Sassler finally said. "I presume this matter will be looked into with the gravity it warrants?"

"Yes," He said, then motioning for the others to follow him. "We'll leave you to look through the information, Madame President. If you have any questions or concerns, please call."

"Yes, of course," She said, probing her forehead in consternation. "Thank you."

They silently left the room and Annabella Sassler felt her hands growing heavier with every page she turned. Between the profiles of Watts and the Torchwick patriarch, who had once run the notorious mob known as the Cupbearers, there were already enough grim circumstances. It only worsened it knowing Watts' less than respectable background. Apart from his bypassing of all ethics laws, he had bugged the entire Atlesian system before he disappeared and, while they had debugged it and encrypted the new system, it remained that he could have found a way to get back into it.

What made him dangerous was not physical strength or combat experience or connections. It was his skill at subterfuge and hacking. No one really knew a damn thing about him, and Sassler found herself hoping that the man was dead or near to it. He posed too much of a threat, and if he had, in fact, been involved with the Cupbearers, then the situation could become exponentially worse within a matter of days, or even hours. After all the people who had suffered and died because of them, it was a nightmare to think that they could resurge. If Arthur Watts were alive and behind them, then it would spell disaster on a national and potentially international scale.

"Annie?" Brian Sassler poked his head into the room but paused upon seeing the look on her face. "What happened?"

"I can't tell you that," She numbly replied, closing the file. "It's highly classified."

He nodded ruefully. "Sorry. Can you get some sleep? You look exhausted."

She said nothing while she locked up the file and her private office but she did let him take her hand and guide her down the hall to their bedroom, feeling guilty the whole time and thinking of Edward.

"I know things have been rough," He eventually said. "But are you going to be okay? Between the Scarlatina murder, or what this is?"

She sighed. "I may come out of this alright, but whether you, the kids, or even the rest of the kingdom will is a different story."


"Winter, please, sit down," James Ironwood motioned to the seat in front of his desk which she shakily took before sitting down himself. "First of all, I want to impress upon you how well you have handled this situation, especially when Colonel Schnee - your own aunt - became indisposed."

Winter stared at her hands. "Thank you, sir," She mumbled.

"I also want to apologize for implicating you in such a messy situation," He continued. "I hate to have to tell you this, but you're going to have to play a key part in unearthing what was really going on there."

"I understand," She said shortly, still sickened by what she had seen. "There's no avoiding it, after all."

James eyed her silently for a moment but then shook his head.

"In light of...recent events and after discussion this morning with other members of the military, we've agreed to license you early," James said calmly and Winter looked up suddenly in shock. "And instate you as a mid-level specialist reporting directly to me."

Winter found herself rendered speechless and turned bright red because of it.

"That's...quite an honor, sir," She said suddenly. "But I really don't deserve it. I didn't do much -"

"To the contrary, you handled the authorities when they arrived, convinced the homeowners that they would be safer if they left, and aided the EMTs in getting your aunt to the hospital," James countered. "You kept a cooler head in the situation than most would, and you are going to have to play a crucial part in what is to come."

"I was in shock, sir," Winter replied, swallowing hard. "And I wasn't sure I'd be able to keep my wits about me during any of it -"

"Winter," The General said gently. "Whether or not you will admit it, you have immense strength of character and are more than capable to start a little higher up a bit early. Do you not want this?"

She bit her lip. "Of course I do, sir," She said quietly.

"It's settled, then," He glanced out the window at the dark night sky and the twinkling city lights. "It'll probably be a few days before the FBI will want to hear a more detailed recollection of what you told the police at the time you and Colonel Schnee discovered the crime scene. In the meantime, do you have any questions?"

Winter hesitated. "If I may, sir," She started slowly. "Does anyone have any idea what may have happened in that attic while Torchwick owned to property?"

James leaned back, sighing heavily. "Yes, there are a few informed guesses, all of them gruesome."

Winter looked back down at her hands for a moment.

"And…" She said, her voice almost inaudible. "Sir, am I allowed to know what the most likely circumstance was for that scene?"

He was silent for a long moment.

"According to the preliminary police report, the corpse was of a young girl between the ages of twelve to sixteen," He finally said, pausing for a moment when he saw her flinch and look up. "It was also...disturbingly well preserved but how long it was there for is questionable at best. What is known for certain is that Torchwick and the mob he was in charge of, known as the Cupbearers, were responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people, maybe more, and were attempting to reconstruct people's blood to create a quote un quote perfect human, which is what the police and the FBI suspect, right now, was what happened there."

The General and the specialist shared equally disgusted looks regarding the matter at hand.

"The Cupbearers were disbanded, weren't they?" Winter pressed. "When Torchwick was incarcerated?"

"For the most part, yes," He agreed. "But new evidence has surfaced that suggests their may be a...resurgence as well as a connection directly to Arthur Watts."

"I thought he was dead!" Winter exclaimed in horror, then looking down in shame. "Sorry, sir, that was uncalled for."

James only let out a short laugh of amusement.

"That was the same reaction I and the security council had when we were informed of that," He told her, frowning when he saw the new messages on his scroll. "But, yes, I think we would all prefer it if he were dead and not untraceable."

Winter chewed at the inside of her cheek. "What are we going to do?"

"For now, wait for more information," He said, rubbing the bridge of his nose for a moment. "But, at least tonight, get some rest. We're all going to need it if we're going to handle whatever may be about to hit us."


Arthur Watts swore upon seeing the headlines on his scroll. All of them returned back to the uncovering of that very first project he had been involved in and, even though he was now hiding out in a swanky part of Vale with secret aid and protection from one of the Vacuoian leaders herself, he was pissed. If the members of Ozpin's little group were going to keep getting in the way of everything, then they could at least do so in a way that didn't disrupt all of their plans. It was an immense pain in the ass and it whittled away at the control he had always sought.

It also meant he would have to be even more careful than he had been over the last few years. Only a few people knew he was alive, and, for what his daughter could claim to the Council, most assumed he was dead and that she was suffering severe PTSD that had damaged her perception. It was not true, of course, but the Adels did not have as much sway in the kingdom of Atlas as they fancied themselves to. So, while he had lived the last several years in hidden opulence with the world assuming him dead, he was now back in a position more precarious than it had been in a long time.

It also meant he was, to an extent, at the mercy of the prisoner's dilemma. He knew full well that Torchwick and his Cupbearers (the ones that had been caught) were never going to escape prison and a few of them were slated for death row. If even one of them cracked, the story of his death would shatter and it would be almost too easy for the Atlesian Council to track him down and drag him back to the kingdom for full formal trial and, inevitably, incarceration. Watts felt his lip curl in pure rage, and, after a moment, he picked up the vase near him and slammed it against the wall. Now was not the time to be collected and suave. It was time to prepare for nothing short of panic.

But, with the time he decided he could take for the night, he enveloped himself in luxury and fell asleep.


The amber-eyed woman crept into the alleyway, her heels barely making even the smallest sound. She was in Vale again, and she was ready to take out the man behind the sick schemes of the Torchwick family as soon as she could make her way into Atlas. Her family had no idea what she had really become, other than something akin to a mercenary, nor who she really worked for. She assumed, always, that it constantly crossed their minds that she was in league with the Queen but she doubted, until there were no other options, they could make themselves believe it. Her siblings and their families she would never harm, not unless she was left without a choice, and she had even given her sister-in-law a bit of aid through that dusty old crow. Before the woman she had been researching died, anyways.

But, regardless, she had been paid upfront and she didn't care either way. She came up on the hotel where she knew all the sketchiest world officials stayed alongside the sleaziest politicians and the toughest crime lords. This was out of her way, she knew, but she ignored what consequences she might face later in her rage. That man had disrupted everything, not to mention thrown a wrench in their plans, and he needed to be dealt with whether the Queen knew it yet or not. That in mind, she snuck in with a face as unreadable as that of a sphinx and with the ferocity of the wind. No one questioned her as she slipped up the suite she knew he was staying in on Rosalinde Varna's dime, and it was child's play to let herself in. It was dark, and she saw that he was asleep in bed. She slipped over softly, pulled out her knife and readied herself to slit his throat, then -

"Nice try," He hissed, snatching the knife out of her hands and throwing it into the wall.

Cinder let out an angered huff and ripped a pistol out of her bag. He immediately put up his hands and she held him still at gunpoint.

"Arthur Watts," She said as if his name pained her. "I heard you're trying to make an escape before the rest of the world realizes you weren't ever dead. I have to say, you played us all well."

He laughed mirthlessly. "Are you going to kill me, Ashlynn Schnee?"

"Cinder Fall," She growled, pressing the gun against his forehead. "No one's called me Ashlynn — let alone included me as a Schnee — in a long time."

"I can easily manipulate Atlesian designed technology, you know," He said, stalling. "And I'll do it for whomever lets me live."

Cinder pursed her lips. "We'll see how true that really is."

It didn't take much for her tap into her born sorcery, snatch him by the wrists, and leave in a flash to the land where it never rained, the wind could not change, and nothing in the ground could ever grow.