Ruby was digging in the team's shared closet as soon as dawn even threatened to arrive, desperately searching her wardrobe for something appropriate – or at least more appropriate than she felt her combat ensemble would be – for a trip to Vale's seat of military power. While she owned quite a few copies of her favorite black dress with the red frills, she wanted pants instead. Unfortunately, her pants were all jeans or sweats, and in her mind, those were certainly not fit for such a serious task. "Oh, gods, crap," she whined, tossing clothes onto the floor. "Too casual, too fancy, too fancy-casual, too cute, not cute enough… ugh. Ugh."

Sound from outside told her someone else was awake. A sleepy Weiss shuffled by the open door, so groggy that she failed to notice it being open, nor her leader's presence inside the closet. Her head poked back around the door frame a few seconds later. "What are you doing in there?" The haphazard pile of clothes on the floor was her answer. "Oh."

Ruby shoved her head into the pile like an ostrich, loosing a muffled "I don't know what to wear for this!" as she shoveled through it; more and more of her body disappeared while she spoke. "Oh my gods."

Already bored with the sight, Weiss departed to brush her teeth. "I am preemptively cutting you off from any coffee this morning."

Yang popped her head in shortly after Weiss left. "What the hell is going on in here?" she asked Ruby's wiggling legs.

"Oh! Yang!" she blurted out while emerging from the pile. "What are you gonna wear? Can I borrow some pants?"

"You're way too little to fit in my clothes, Rubaby." She easily ducked under a thrown pair of flip-flops. "And I'm just gonna wear my usual outfit, why?" This time, a whole dress slammed into her face.

"Are you dumb? You can't walk around General Headquarters with your boobs in everyone's face, dang it!"

"At least I have some." The dress draped over her head was joined by a high velocity pair of sweatpants. She pulled everything off of her face to make eye contact. "Sleep well?"

"Umm…" Ruby fell still and hugged herself lightly. "I needed the piper tablet, but after that, yeah."

"So long as you slept, that's all I care about." She dropped to one knee by her sister and pulled her into a tight embrace. "We're all gonna be there with you. Don't stress."

She regulated her breathing even as Yang spoke. "I know. I'm cool," she whispered back. A bleary-eyed, confused Blake appeared in the closet doorway. "Good morning!"

"Morning… um… what's going on in here?" she asked, cat ears flicking with sleepiness.

"Ruby's just being Ruby." Yang bounced back to her feet and stepped away. "Fine, gods, I'll wear something boring for your sake."

"Thank yoooooouuuuu-"

She went back to fussing over her outfit, so Yang and Blake took their leave and moved away together. "Nervous?" Blake asked.

Yang waved her off with a smile. "Ruby's jittery enough for all of us. I ain't worried. I'm just glad that refinery fire or whatever was goin' on last night didn't attract the Nevermores again. Once was enough for that bullshit."

"I'm with you there. The light in the sky afterward, though… weird. I hope it wasn't some kind of chemical or something." They looked over when someone knocked at the door from the hallway; Blake went over to answer it and found a grinning, barefoot Nora in her pink pajamas. "Oh, hello."

"Hi Blake! Hi Yang! Hi whoever is throwing clothes out of your closet!"

"Hey Nora!" Ruby called back, still out of sight. "You guys all awake?"

"Pretty much." She lowered her voice – at least as much as she could lower it – to speak to Yang. "Did tall, pale and twiggy ever answer your text? I'm asking for you-know-who."

"I'll look." Yang produced the closed device from her cleavage and snapped it open. About what? was the latest message in the thread, sent when she'd been asleep for a few hours already. "Oh, shit, he did." One glance back at the closet made her frown. "Let's keep it quiet for now, she's worried enough."

"Gotcha. I gotta go help Pyrrha tie up her hair or something. Girl needs a trim if you ask me. See ya!" Nora waved and bounced away to return to her own team.

Blake turned to Yang after she shut the door, only to be distracted by yet another pair of pants which flew out of the closet, followed by anguished whining. "One of us might want to convince Ruby to wear her usual outfit?"

"Yeeeeah… I'll handle it." Yang cocked her head at Blake's sudden grin. "What?"

"You two. I don't know, it makes me wish I had a little brother or sister."

"I can ask my dad to adopt you."

A giggling Blake tossed her hair and walked toward the bathroom. "I don't think my parents would like that very much."

After a somewhat well-practiced dance of chaos and closet shuffling, the four girls were ready – although Ruby herself was the last to complete the process. She emerged from the bathroom with her hair as neatly-brushed as possible, but wearing her usual dress, pantyhose, and black boots. Thumbs up from Yang and Blake, plus a shrug from Weiss, did little to assuage her concerns. "I guess I don't have any choice, huh."

"Maybe you should ask dad to ship something fancier out here just in case."

"Hrm." Her silver eyes went to Weiss, who wore something best described as a short coat-dress – a white, long-sleeved garment, double-breasted and cinched at the waist, fastened closed by two vertical rows of four black buttons across the front. It sported large lapels and a wing collar, plus black trim, including black frills along the lower hemline. A matching pair of thigh boots, white with black soles, completed the outfit. "I want one of those in red. And a pair of the boots, they look awesome."

"Why thank you," she replied, soaking up the praise with strokes of her long ponytail. "I'll see what I can do."

"Doesn't hurt that the shoes add a few centimeters. She might even be able to reach the top shelf in the closet now!"

"Oh, shut up, Yang."

Before they could really get going, Pyrrha stuck her head in through the open door. "Hello! Everyone ready? I don't think we've got much time left." She stepped into the room to hold a more polite conversation. In lieu of her usual outfit, she wore a solid, snug red strapless dress that went halfway down to her knees, a pair of shiny black boots that reached those knees, and a lopsided brown leather belt around her waist. Her crown device and gorget were also missing. "Ah! You all look lovely."

Yang and Blake, who'd chosen simple clothes – a yellow t-shirt and jeans, or a black, collared blouse plus gray slacks respectively – looked down at their own outfits and frowned. "I think I know how Ruby feels now," the Faunus admitted quietly.

"Maybe it's less about the clothes and more about who's wearin' 'em," Yang mumbled back. "Whatever, let's get this over with. Are they waiting?"

"Not quite yet, but we may as well go ahead." Ruby, Weiss, and Blake shuffled out into the corridor; before Pyrrha could leave, however, the blonde grabbed her wrist gently. "Hmm?"

"I'm gonna try to talk to him while we're on the airship. Don't tell Ruby. I'll let her know when I've got something to say."

She nodded once. "I understand."

Some minutes later saw all eight gathered near the airship pads, which were bathed in golden light as the sun continued to rise over the sea in the west. Pyrrha was the only member of her team dressed notably differently than usual; her face said she regretted bringing a jacket to resist the brisk morning air.

"Look, man, these are pretty much the fanciest clothes I've got," Jaune, sans armor plates, pointed out after some gentle snickering from Weiss. "I really should have packed a suit." He waved a hand at Yang. "She's wearing pretty much the same thing I am, why aren't you laughing at her?"

"'Cause I know where she sleeps, that's why."

"So do I!"

"Oh my goooooooooooods you guys worry too much, it's just a little chit-chat! You need to chill out."

Ren looked over at Nora and dispensed some quiet wisdom. "You don't get a second chance to make a good first impression."

This quelled her usual energetic fidgeting, at least briefly. "True, but still. It's not a big deal."

While the campus was generally quiet behind them – most of the other students had yet to wake up – they weren't exactly alone; Velvet Scarlatina's rounds had brought her toward this end of the main walkway just in time to see them all standing there. While she was glad to see Blake, of course, there were too many strangers around for her to walk over and say hello. Once Blake saw her and started waving, however, she gathered up all her courage and pushed her cart toward them. "G'day!" she said, attempting to be chipper even though her voice broke slightly with nervousness. Weiss received a deeply wary look when she arrived. "What are you doing out here so early?"

Blake issued her a brief hug. "We're about to head into Vale. I'm sorry I haven't been out to see you lately. Don't tell me you're still making rounds by yourself?"

"Nah, it's not like that. Miss Goodwitch turned some volunteers from Haven into the day shift. They're pretty ace! I just do whatever they leave overnight. Isn't much." This was the first time she'd seen Jaune and Pyrrha up close; she had to tilt her head back slightly to make proper eye contact. "Whoa. Uh, hello up there."

Pyrrha chuckled. "It's nice to finally meet you. Any friend of Blake's is a friend of mine."

Yang backed up this sentiment with a huge grin and a wink. "Damn right. Look at you! I can already tell you're a sweetheart."

"Ahhhh, heck." A blushing Velvet lost much of her anxiousness and smiled. "I already know everybody's names. Blake told me. So, you know… hi?" She took a moment to eyeball those wearing different clothing than usual. "Pyrrha, huh? Spiffy dress. You too, Weiss. Real bonza, the both of 'em."

"I—um, thank you?" Weiss replied, head tilted with confusion.

"Oh, sorry. It's just the way I learned to speak when I was growing up. S'how my parents always talked."

She took a breath and returned to her usual proper state. "I… see. I appreciate the compliment all the same."

"No worries!" Velvet noted the time on her Scroll and emitted a surprised little squeak. "Whew, I better go. These cans won't empty themselves."

"I'll look for you tonight," Blake assured her. "I want you to meet Ilia, anyway. I think you'll like her."

"Lookin' forward to it! See you!" One wave later, Velvet was on her way toward the main part of campus. As she turned, her long chestnut hair swung out just enough to reveal a small adhesive bandage across the back of her neck, near the base of her skull. Weiss and Blake held their breaths until they saw it, covering the mark, at which point they exhaled almost simultaneously.

A moment or two after Velvet left, Pyrrha looked down at a still somewhat uneasy Blake. "Ah… her face. It looked a little odd."

"Yeah," Nora agreed. "What's the deal?"

"It's… don't ask," she replied, feline ears flat against her head with sorrow. "I'm really proud of her, though, I didn't think she'd come over with so many people around." Suddenly, every single one of their Scrolls went off, including hers, emitting all kinds of adorable or generic you got a message noises. The cause: a collective notice from Glynda about a military shuttle arriving in ten minutes, plus an inquiry bolted thereupon wondering if everyone was ready to go. "Oh. Guess we don't have long to wait." Before she answered, something else caught her eye. "I got a text from mom!"

"Hm. I have a message from father," a distinctly less-enthused Weiss noted. "They must have fixed the network problem or whatever it was. About time."

"Aww, I'm gonna miss being your personal messenger, Blakey!"

Ruby, slightly off to the side and farther away from the conversation than they were from the city of Vale, stared toward the sunrise at a distant nightmare wheeling loose circles in the clear sky. It wasn't a Nevermore, but it was unquestionably a Grimm – draconian in shape, enormous, with a horned white mask that covered its entire head. Most of its wing area consisted of crimson membranes which were slightly transparent. It also had a long, slender, tapered black tail. Since nobody else reacted to its presence, she maintained her stone-faced demeanor.

It's not real. Beads of sweat clung to her forehead despite the brisk air.

"Whatcha lookin' at, Rubes?"

Her gaze snapped over to Yang. "Oh, uh, just watching for the airship!" she lied happily. "Sorry. I spaced out for a second." When she looked back toward Vale, the specter was gone. "Huh." The suspicious expression she received next caused her to huff. "What? Stop staring at me."

A few meters away stood a hoodie-clad Emerald, leaned inconspicuously against an out-of-the-way lamppost as she smoked what was left of her cigarette. Between puffs, she watched her prey carefully for reactions to the illusion. The way Ruby stood, stiff as a board, was enough for her to call it a success; she finished off the cigarette, crushed it out on the lamppost, and dropped the butt into a trash can before walking back toward the dorms, passing a completely oblivious Velvet along the way.

Unlike the squared-off, gray stone which dominated much of Vale's architecture outside its few skyscrapers – and the sail-like frames of Atlesian-designed structures – buildings in its Government District struck a much more imposing tone. Hewn from white marble, with huge columns suspending their gabled roofs, their walls were filled with expansive arched windows to let in natural light. They were also taller on average than buildings elsewhere in the city – especially the massive palace which they could see even from street-level, encircled by the solemn halls of Vale's power. Its golden dome and four obsidian spires towered above everything, threatening to punch holes in the airship-rich blue sky.

Nora summed it up best: "Geez, this place sure is serious."

A serious place whose footpaths were full of equally-serious people, in suits, or skirt suits, or military uniforms – enough pedestrians to make up for the notable lack of vehicle traffic. Pyrrha led the way down these sidewalks, using her Scroll for guidance. "Yes. I thought Argus' district was bad," she replied quietly. One glance went back over her shoulder at a distracted Ruby and a frustrated Yang, who brought up the rear of their procession. While she could guess why the latter seemed unhappy – Yang glaring at her Scroll was the clue – the state of the former baffled her a little. "Ruby? Are you okay?"

She donned a wooden smile. "Yeah. I'm good. Sorry. I just feel reeeeeeeally outta place." Her stomach growled. "And I hope they're gonna feed us something when we get there…" Despite her feigned confidence, she kept reaching behind her back to pat a Crescent Rose that wasn't there.

"We do have a six hour pass," Weiss noted, examining her white fingernail polish. "If nothing else, I'll buy us lunch."

"Yeah, don't tell Nora that. She'll eat you right out of the Schnee fortune," Jaune warned her with a grin. Nora snickered beside him, but Ruby's continued unease stifled his amusement. "Seriously, you okay over there?"

"I'm fiiiiiiiiiiiiine, gods." A street sign caught her eye. "Oh! Oh! Weymount Avenue! We're almost there! I think."

The building itself was impossible to miss; it swallowed up multiple city blocks on its own in both directions and stood five stories tall. Between the sidewalk and the front entrance sat a large circular water fountain that shot high up into the air. Behind it were three flagpoles in a line parallel with the front of the building. These bore the colors of the Kingdom's armed services. Each flag's centered device was the Great Seal of Vale – two crossed silver axes encircled by a curved wreath of green leaves – on a monotone field: sky blue for the Air Force, black for the Navy, and dark green for the Army, from left to right. The entrance itself, located atop a titanic slope of white marble stairs, was propped up by columns innumerable – between some of these pillars stood male and female guards in slate blue uniforms with orange berets on their heads, hands clasped behind their backs, and dark sunglasses on their faces. The eight kids lingered at the base of the stairs in various levels of awe.

"Damn," Yang whispered, a little intimidated. "I didn't realize the place was this big."

"Do we just go in?" Blake asked, feline ears slightly flattened. "Or…"

"Pyrrha and I are supposed to let them know we're here." Ruby produced her own Scroll and, a few taps later, had her ID information on screen, ready to present. "Ready to go?"

"Yes." They walked up the steps, side by side, leaving their teams behind to approach the nearest guard. His sunglasses were impenetrable – they had to be to fight the off the glare produced by the sun's harsh light on the white steps – but the rest of his dark, clean-shaven face was daunting enough to make her nervous regardless. "Ah, excuse me?"

"ID and reason for visit, please," he stated flatly. They gave him their Scrolls; once he confirmed their faces, he handed them back.

Pyrrha took up explaining their presence. "We're the students from Beacon Academy. I'm not exactly sure who our appointment is with." She motioned at the rest of their party. "They're with us. Ruby and I are the team leaders."

"One moment." He spoke into a microphone on his shoulder. "I have students from Beacon seeking permission to enter. Ruby Rose and Pyrrha Nikos." The response flowed into his earpiece. "Understood, ma'am." He looked back to Pyrrha. "All right, you've been granted entry. Have your teams display their IDs to me on the way in. Wait in the main lobby through those doors."

"Of course. Thank you." Pyrrha dipped her head – Ruby did too – and waved their friends up the steps. "Show him your IDs on the way!" she called.

The interior of the building was just as grandiose as the outside – it lacked any sort of small antechamber and opened right up into a gigantic lobby, even bigger than the one at the base of Beacon Tower, with a polished granite floor and recessed circular lights in the white ceiling. Centered in this space was a pair of staircases that led up to the second floor; between these was a giant reception desk made of light stone, staffed with three people in different uniforms. While many little seating areas were arranged around them – little round tables with four chairs each – none of them felt comfortable enough to sit and wait. Foot traffic in here was constant and thick, with all sorts of folks heading up or down the staircases, or walking around them toward other rooms whose doors were in the side walls of the area. "Your military certainly knows how to make an impression, doesn't it?" Weiss remarked to Ruby.

"Geeeeeeeeeeeeeeeez," she breathed back. "I've only seen pictures. This is nuts."

"Ah, there you are!" They turned to see a much friendlier face approach, clad in a uniform much like the guards outside, except his beret was green. Closely-cropped red hair peeked out from underneath it. The flash on the beret's front was a red shield, supporting two thin, horizontal silver bars – his rank insignia. Based on his pale face, he wasn't much older than Yang. "Welcome to the big box. You must be here to see General Zhen. Please follow me."

"G-General?" Ruby stammered as they fell in behind him. "We're talking to a—seriously?" The building's second floor wasn't quite as open as the one below; what of it they could see was offices and corridors arranged in a grid structure, whose walls were all painted Valesian Air Force blue. The flooring was white carpet. While it did feature a reception desk directly ahead, it was much smaller than the one in the huge lobby. She fired a glance down one of those hallways as they followed their guide, which revealed just how massive the building was – it seemed to stretch on for ages.

"Oh, yeah. You're gonna be talking to General Zhen the younger – don't call her 'the younger', by the way – and despite the mean-looking scar on her face, she's really not so bad. You're civilians, anyway, she won't yell at you. Be respectful and you'll get respect. Easy."

"The younger?" Pyrrha asked. "There's more than one?"

He nodded. "Correct. You're gonna see Brigade General Zhen. Her older sister is the commander of 4th Frontier Corps, so she holds a higher rank. We just refer to all of the general officers as 'General' because it's easier." He looked back at them with bright blue eyes and a big smile. "Oh, I'm Lance Corporal Kilmartin, by the way. I'm part of AGHQ's enlisted staff. If you need anything, I'm the guy to ask."

"How about some breakfast?" Nora only squinted when Pyrrha shot a look her way. "Hey, I'm hungry."

Jaune would have crossed his arms were he not walking. "You're always hungry."

"Ha! Not sure I can help you there, I'm afraid." He led them up another staircase, much like the first, to the building's third floor. The main difference here was color: the walls were Army dark green, while the carpet had been exchanged for silver tile. "Almost there." They entered the left-most corridor in the grid and walked along it for a good while before he stopped at one of the black doors in the wall. "Here we go! Just have a seat in here and General Zhen will be with you shortly." He grinned at Nora. "You might want to ask her about getting something to eat."

"Are you serious?" Ruby asked as they all walked into what turned out to be a large conference room. There was a long, black table at its center with twelve plush office chairs around it. At one end of the tabletop was placed a silver device of some kind, a boxy thing which none of them could identify. Two windows were placed in the wall opposite the door, though their electrochromatic panels were set so dark that they were almost opaque. "She's a friggin' General, man, she doesn't have time for that stuff!"

"That's exactly the idea! What she wants, she gets in a hurry. Use that to your advantage!" He waved once they all entered the room and disappeared out of sight beyond the doorway.

A curious Blake walked over to look out the windows, where a decent view of the palace and its tall, black stone façade awaited. "Wow," she gasped. "That's where your Queen lives? You could fit half of Kuo Kuana in that thing."

"It's not just Her Majesty's residence," Ruby explained while spinning around in one of the swivel chairs to ease her nerves. "A lot of the civil ministries are based there too." Too many rotations left her dizzy, so she grabbed the table to stop. "Whoa. Whoooooooa."

"All this fuss is probably my fault," Weiss said as she chose a seat and plopped daintily into it. Confused looks from her teammates caused a smile. "You don't send just anyone to talk to a Schnee, you know. Of course it's a General."

"Oh my gods," Yang moaned, rubbing her eyes. "Couldn't you say the same for Pyrrha? Her family owns half of fuckin' Argus."

The redhead frantically waved off that assertion with both hands. "We do not!"

An arrival cut their chat short. In stepped a woman in slate blue, but not the field uniform of the guards outside – hers featured a longer double-breasted overcoat with slacks over black wingtip shoes, not baggy pants crammed into boots. Her gold-colored beret lacked a flash; instead, a silver rank device was placed where it would have been, two crossed axes in gleaming silver which were the same as the ones on the Great Seal of Vale. As for the person herself, there were some lines on her warm olive face – she was perhaps forty, maybe forty-five – and a visible scar which lashed across her left cheek from jawline to ear. She stood taller than Yang, but not quite as tall as Pyrrha or Jaune. The corners of her hazel eyes were tilted upward somewhat and were topped by thin, arched black eyebrows. Her jet black hair was just long enough to sport locks in the back. Despite the copious uniform, tautness in spots along the coat sleeves betrayed how athletic she was.

Ruby stood up immediately despite lingering unsteadiness from her swivel chair adventure. "Good morning, ma'am!" A few frantic waves went toward those still seated. "Get up! Get up! This is her!" She looked back at the stranger. "It… is you, right? The person we're supposed to see?"

Her first response was a pleasant chuckle, somewhat higher-pitched than expected given her stout build. "You caught me. It's all right, really, sit down! I'm Brigade General Zhen Xuefeng, from the Army Academy Liaison Office. You can call me Xuefeng, if you like."

"B-but you're a-!"

More chuckling at Ruby as Xuefeng walked over to sit at the end of the table where the silver box was. "Miss Rose, I may be an officer, but you're not soldiers. It's okay." One motion urged them back in their chairs. Ruby and her team ended up on her right, with Pyrrha's bunch on the other side. Nora's raised hand caught her eye. "Yes?"

"The other guy said to ask you for breakfast."

It was Pyrrha's turn to rub her eyes. "Nora…"

Even more snickering as she doffed her beret and stored it under a shoulder strap designed just for that purpose, revealing all of her slicked-back hair. "I'm already way ahead of you. I haven't eaten yet either. I've asked the mess to bring something up for us." She clasped her hands on the table and lost much of her airy pleasantness. "I should apologize for dragging you all out here so early, but events have forced my hand."

"Events? Like, nothing bad, right?" Yang asked.

"To be completely honest, we're not sure yet." One tap of a button on the silver box closed the door to give them all some privacy. "I'll address this Dust thing later. Right now, I'd like to understand exactly how those Geists were beaten in the Emerald Forest."

"Erm, ma'am, that wasn't really us, it was-"

Her raised hand silenced Ruby. "I mean you, collectively. We already know Riese was there. So he did it himself?" Nodding was her answer. "Tell me what happened."

"He threw spears of ice. Large ones," Pyrrha said. She spread her arms out as wide as she could to demonstrate their size. "Bigger than this. I assume he used the remote priming mechanism to make them and launch them, but…" Her face became thoughtful. "We never saw his Dust supply. They just appeared and flew out of his hand."

"That wasn't the only thing he did, either," Weiss noted. "We were completely surrounded by Grimm. Then he swoops in and wipes them all out. No effort. He used ice for that, too."

"Same thing for our night trial," Yang added. "Jumps in the air and punches the ground. Boom. Ice shoots up everywhere."

This was news to Xuefeng. "He interfered in more than one?" she asked, one brow raised. "Did you inform the Beacon staff each time?" Immense collective squirming from most of them – Nora and Ren excluded, as usual – was her reward. "I'll take that as a no."

"We did!" Ruby said. "I mean, we did eventually. For the first time. The second time wasn't really his fault, his airship crashed into the forest and he fought his way out with gun fri—I mean Miss Stahl. Or I guess he fought his way out. We only saw him for a little bit."

What was left of her polite demeanor drained away upon hearing Indigo's last name. "Stahl… Indigo Stahl?" she asked, squinting slightly.

Pyrrha confirmed this with a nod. "Yes, ma'am. He worked for her until very recently."

Xuefeng produced her Scroll from a hip pocket and stuck it, still collapsed, into a slot in the silver box. A little screen lit up so she could access the UI. A few awkward, quiet moments of swiping and tapping passed before she addressed them again. "She mentioned a little airship incident while assisting with the defense of campus, not that it crashed." Three knocks rang out from the door. "Enter," she bellowed, glaring at the screen.

The food had arrived, a sampling of all sorts of items on two carts, which their uniformed deliverers left against one wall before departing with salutes. Xuefeng emptied the carts and arranged the items on the table with a few sweeps of her hand, not even bothering to watch what she was doing. It wasn't necessary. "Whoa," Jaune said as the process unfolded, "is this your Semblance?"

"Yes. I hear I have the same type as Glynda Goodwitch." Xuefeng removed her Scroll from the box, put it away, then remained quiet, allowing them to pick and choose what they wanted while using her power to grab a cup of coffee with a lid. She only spoke again a few moments later. "What I'm about to show you does not, under any circumstances, leave this room. Understood?" One tap of another button on the box dimmed the lights and brought down a projection screen on the wall on Pyrrha's side of the table. A few seconds later, an aerial view of some industrial complex appeared – their attention instantly went to the gigantic spikes of ice jutting out from part of it. Seconds later, an overlay appeared, giving them an exact scale of what they were looking at. "Last night there was an accident at the Capulet Refinery. You might have seen the smoke from Beacon. Some valve or something failed, somewhere, I don't know. What's on screen now is how the resulting fire was extinguished."

"They're as big as buildings!" Blake exclaimed. "What happened?"

"It was him, wasn't it."

All eyes went to Pyrrha. Xuefeng shrugged. "He's our best guess. Riese's ID was scanned twice at the scene by responding police. We have a problem, though. When that ice melted, there was no Ash, which would suggest it's not Dust."

"Oooo! His Semblance! It must be an elemental one like mine!" Nora said, clapping her hands. "Except, like, wait… that would cost a ton of Aura." Recalling something her leader said a while ago caused her eyes to light up. "Oh no, hold on, Pyrrha said he had a lot! Maybe he could get away with it."

"Did she, now."

Put on the spot, an awkwardly-smiling Pyrrha turned her attention away from picking at her food to regard Xuefeng's piercing stare. "I felt it the first time I ran into him. My Semblance involves-"

"I know what it involves, Miss Nikos, get on with it."

"Y-yes. Opher's Aura is – well, to put it simply, it's very, very, very big. It seems like he has the Aura of a bunch of people all in one."

Xuefeng rose from her chair to pace slowly around the table. "What else do you know about Opher Riese?" No answers came. "I wouldn't be too quiet. If you're complacent in something, I'm obligated to let Professor Ozpin know. How I get that information will have a serious bearing on whatever consequences come next."

Yang finally spoke up, keen to throw whatever bones were necessary to keep her sister and friends out of trouble. "Not much. No idea where he's from, no idea what he did before he came here, nothing. Shit, we only have a guess about why he saved us that one time."

"I'd like to hear it."

"Apparently, I resemble someone he lost," Pyrrha said.

"Yeah. Ah, hell, what was her name…" Yang added, snapping her fingers as she hunted down the memory.

"Carmine." Ruby drained her cup of its coffee payload and waited for the caffeine to soak in. "They were a couple, I think? Miss Stahl said they had a baby together but I guess she… um… she passed. Somehow. We don't know anything about that either."

Xuefeng retrieved her Scroll again, using it to control the screen on the wall. Opher's passport information appeared. "This is what we know. I'm showing you so we can all be on the same page for what I'm about to say next."

"He was a soldier?" Weiss said. "I had no idea."

Ruby tilted her head. "Umm… Miss Stahl said he worked for the Schnee Dust Company. He did both?"

Xuefeng dismissed the screen and returned to her seat to spring the trap. "He taught you about the alternate priming mechanism, yes?" They nodded. "You are strictly forbidden from demonstrating it to anyone else. Whether or not you continue to use it is up to you after you hear what I have to say."

While they were all surprised to some extent – even the usually stoic Ren wore a frown – Ruby's horror was by far the most intense, so strong it propelled her to her feet. "W-wait a second, ma'am! It could help—it's already helped us!"

"Why?" Pyrrha added, wide-eyed with disbelief. "It costs no Aura, it works at pretty much every distance we've tried it, it… it would save a lot of lives! I can't even think of all the ways regular people could use it!"

"Yeah, whoa, hold on," Jaune said, backing her up, "Where is this order coming from? You? I thought we answered to the teachers at Beacon?"

No words were needed for Xuefeng to shut them all up – one bone-rattling glare did the job just fine. "Let me finish. I know you want to use it to help others. Of course you do… but you wouldn't be helping them. This technique does not come without drastic cost. Why do you think we haven't implemented it in our training doctrine? In yours?"

"Wait… really?" Ruby sat back down. "What cost? What does it do?"

"The same thing Grimm exposure does. It corrupts the Aura until that illness feeds back into the body and mind."

Everyone fell still – even Nora, who stopped eating to gaze across the table at a pallid, sweating Ruby. "Oh," she breathed. "Oh no."

She got up again and shuffled unsteadily away toward one of the windows; her red hood went up just so nobody else would see the abject panic in her silver eyes. A moment later, Yang was by her side.

"It… it hasn't been long enough to do any serious damage, right?" Weiss asked, staring at Ruby's back. "We've only known—three weeks or so, I think, not even a month. So there's no problem. Right?" She looked at the stoic Xuefeng. "Right?" The longer the silence dragged on, the more frantic she became. "We passed our checks!" she finally snapped while rising from her chair.

"I see he didn't tell you about this part of it, did he?" she finally replied, her voice smooth as glass.

"Fucking bastard…" Yang hugged Ruby's shoulders as best she could. "What do we do?"

"Your best option would be to cease using it immediately. Does anyone else on campus know?"

"I showed two other people," Ruby wheezed, barely able to restrain her terror. Uneven breaths entered her lungs. "P-Penny Polendina and Ciel Soleil. I don't know if they've shown anyone else. I'll ask them."

"Good. Be sure you tell them what I told you."

"Why would he… why wouldn't he warn us about this?" Pyrrha mumbled, eyes hidden with one hand. "It felt so right. I don't understand."

Xuefeng stood up again, giving her a pat on the shoulder on the way by. "There's no way Atlas would let someone like him leave their army – unless they wanted to get rid of him." Ruby and Yang got a brief glance. "I suspect his unwillingness to be forthcoming extends to worse transgressions than fudging his job history." Her face softened, as did her tone. "I am sorry to drop all of this on your heads. I wanted a different perspective on Riese before we meet him later on, from people with some distance from him. I also wanted you to hear the truth as soon as possible. I hope you're not angry at your teachers. I doubt they even understood the risks."

"No, man, not at all," Yang assured her. A torrent of anger swept in right after. "Professor Goodwitch warned us to be careful. She was right. Fuck. I should have known his ass was slimy when he didn't even report being fucking kidnapped. Fuck him. I hope someone throws him out."

"We'll see what happens." One more glance at Ruby before she headed toward the door. "Finish up eating, if you'd like, but don't take too long. I'll have a shuttle on the roof ready to carry you back in a few minutes," she said before leaving. Outside in the hallway, a few doors down, stood Kilmartin at attention – she issued an order to him on her way past. "Make sure they're on their way to Beacon within half an hour. Tell the transport company to talk to me if they have a problem with it."

"Ma'am," he acknowledged with a salute.

Xuefeng entered the grid maze and strode back to her office, narrow-eyed and moody, parting a river of subordinates as she went. It wasn't anything special, containing enough room for a decent desk and chair, with some wall shelving for books and a few personal knickknacks. She even had a window, at least, although the view outside wasn't quite as grand as the side of the building which faced the palace. The moment she shut the door, however, she realized there was a problem. "Why is this open?" she mumbled while walking to the window. It wasn't completely shut; a little breeze moved the dark red curtains. Before she could close it, however, a strange sound behind her caused her to look over her shoulder.

Raven Branwen stood at her door, sword sheath on her hip and a new white-and-red mask hiding her face. "I let myself in," she replied slyly. "Hope you don't mind." The anger in Xuefeng's eyes caused a smirk under her mask. "Don't look so mad, General, you should be glad I decided to help you with this," she said while locking it and walking away.

Those hazel eyes became angry slits. "I don't know why you chose to help me at all. I did not ask for-"

"Because you have no idea what you're dealing with." Raven sauntered around the room, ending up at the shelves, where pictures of other members of the Zhen family caught her eye. "You've seen the footage from the refinery. Opher Riese is not the kind of man you try to wrangle by force. Trust me… I have personal experience." She picked up a photo of Xuefeng, another woman, and a younger man between them – siblings, clearly, they looked so much alike – to examine more closely.

"I don't want him wrangled, I want him exiled. Stahl and Voss, too, if I can help it. They're up to something. Stahl even lied about her involvement in the Nevermore attack up at Beacon! That violates her-"

"None of them are going anywhere," Raven warned her as she set the picture aside. "For the same reason I came to you. Usefulness. So long as you remain useful, your secrets are safe."

Xuefeng bared teeth, unleashing her Semblance to grab Raven by the throat. That force was instantly shoved aside by the power of the true art and one dismissive flick of her armored right hand – the feedback struck like lightning all across her Aura and left her breathless. "Wh—how did you-"

"Consider that a little demonstration about why you shouldn't challenge me or him. I don't think Vale can afford the price of trying to use force on either of us." She wandered away from the shelves. "Did you tell them what I told you to?"

"Yes."

"Good. Did they buy it?"

"I'd say so. One of them looked ready to cry." So did Xuefeng; she shuffled uneasily over to sit behind her desk. "Is it actually true?"

"You have enough to worry about. How about the kids? What did they have to say?"

Xuefeng rubbed her temples to fight off a headache. "At least two more people know about the method. Beacon students, I think, Polendina and Soleil are their last names. I would almost guarantee Stahl and Voss know it too if they're his friends."

"I'll handle them. The students should handle themselves."

"The blonde one… Xiao Long, or whatever, also mentioned a name for the girl that looks like Nikos: Carmine." She shot another glare up at Raven, who never returned the eye contact. "If you wanted my help, you could have just asked. This would have come to my attention eventually anyway. You don't have to hold things over our heads."

"I'm in a hurry, and, honestly, it's nothing personal; your brother's sins will help keep your mouths shut. Besides, I'm lazy, and dirty hands make my work a whole lot easier." One obnoxious arm stretch later and Raven was on her way back to the window. "Listen, it's for the greater good. But – and I must stress this – nothing about whatever you see or hear in our time together can become public. That's why I have the… let's call it insurance. All you have to do is the same thing you've done for your whole career: follow orders."

"I don't answer to you!"

A thick, billowing collection of cold fog enveloped her from the floor up as she stood at the window. "You do now." By the time Xuefeng got up and walked into that cloud, Raven was already gone.

"Psssssst. 'Tia."

Miltia startled awake after a few seconds of gentle shaking from her twin sister. "What?" she gasped, expecting some kind of danger, only to realize that she was in the same place she'd fallen asleep in – the almost pitch-black bedroom of a unit in the dilapidated apartment block where Beatrix and her daughters lived, tucked away deep within Mountain Glenn's crumbling expanse. "What... unnnhhh, Mel, don't wake me up unless something weird is going on. You know I've got morning patrol with Marina." Once her eyes achieved focus and adjusted to the dark, she saw the faint, Scroll-illuminated form of her mother in the doorway. "Mom? Ohhhhhhhh boy. What happened? I'll go get my claws."

"Now, now, baby girl, you ain't about to fight anybody. Just get dressed. We've got ourselves a delicate situation that needs your…" She waved one hand around for a moment, "...way with words."

Both Melanie and Beatrix got a confused look in reply before Miltia slid off of her ratty mattress. "Um, all right, I guess?"

Melanie had to help her get to her feet; her mother used her Scroll's light until Miltia found her own. Neither could watch her limp – the result of lingering damage from her encounter with Opher – for long without frowning and glancing away. "Let me know when you're ready, sweetie," Beatrix said. "No need to get all dolled-up."

"Fine."

Minutes later saw both Malachite twins on the street outside, embraced in all directions by an unnerving combination of broken city, plus the silence and darkness of midnight on the southern Carnforth Plain. The only light came from people up in the skyscrapers on lookout duty, using their Scrolls to see. Breath left their lips in clouds as they walked; Melanie went slow to stay by her ailing sister. "You need to stop going on patrols."

"Mel, I'm okay. Just kind of sore."

"For almost a week? Your legs shake every time you walk around." Her green eyes dimmed with hatred. "You'd be fine by now if that flying bastard hadn't killed our damn medic. Ugh. We should ask Miss Grace to kidnap another one for us."

Miltia couldn't help but giggle. "I guess that's one way to say you're worried about me."

"Peh." She adjusted the fur stole around her neck. "This is why mom wants you to talk to her. I just ain't got the disposition for it."

"Right…"

The problem came into view around the corner of a half-finished storefront of some kind – in the distance sat one of the city's traffic roundabouts, complete with a central plinth that lacked a statue, which the Malachite gang used as their graveyard. All the markers were hand made, consisting of a vertical pole with an X – made of wood, or metal, or whatever was at hand – atop it to represent the crossed-arms pose of prayer. Ten of these markers looked much newer than the rest. Someone was knelt down by one of those new graves. "There she is," Melanie said quietly. "She's been out here three nights in a row now. Only moves when the sun comes up."

"Wow." Miltia took a second to straighten up her red dress. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Just be you. I'll wait back here."

"Okay, I guess." Miltia approached the figure slowly – and not just due to the physical discomfort of walking. When the light of her Scroll brought clarity at last, she found a woman in a black hooded jacket and a long, worn-out purple dress, knelt on the cracked pavement. "Alkina? Hi. It's me."

"Miss Miltiades." Only when Miltia struggled to sit down did Alkina move, lifting the hood of her black jacket, then reaching out to assist the girl in red. "You're still hurting," she said, trying to blow the platinum blonde hair out of her gray eyes while her hands focused on keeping Miltia steady.

"So are you." Once seated, she tried to hug her knees, failed because of the pain, then chose to leave her legs stretched out in front of her. "I don't think he'd wanna see you like this."

"I can't help it. He was…" She bowed her head to stop from bawling and only just succeeded. "Now my whole family's gone."

"If that was true, I wouldn't be sitting with you right now." Miltia offered a smile when she looked over. "When my dad died, it felt like… I dunno, like a hole I couldn't climb out of. I had to, though. For mom, and for Mel. We need you now more than ever, Al."

Alkina bowed her head even further. "How am I supposed to counsel anyone else when I can't get over anything?"

"Don't look at it like that. Now you know exactly how they feel. And, like, hey, you can lean on them too, right?"

A sudden stiff breeze made her shiver. "I don't know. It hurts too much to think about, but I can't put my mind on anything else." Nearby sounds told her they weren't alone anymore; she looked up and to the left and saw a shadow walking toward them from another roundabout entrance. "How many people did you bring?"

"Um, none. Mel?" Miltia called, shining her light on the new arrival. "Is that you?"

Not even close. Opher, clad in his usual hat, with a light blue shirt over desert camouflage cargo pants, approached them slowly. Before he could even open his mouth to speak, however, an enraged Alkina snatched a nearby shovel off the ground and charged him, shrieking with anger. She lashed the steel blade against the side of his face, knocking his hat off, then wound up for another swing against the other cheek. Each hit snapped his head to the side and forced him one step back.

"You son of a bitch!" she screamed, driving the blade down against the top of his skull. "You killed him! You killed him!"

Her attacks kept coming, every impact of the shovel against his head producing a metallic clang that echoed through the cold night air. Those sounds were barely audible over her enraged screams. Melanie showed up just as a panicking Miltia got to her feet. "Oh my gods," she gasped. "Oh my gods, we gotta run. 'Tia, we gotta go-"

Miltia wouldn't. She hobbled over and grabbed the angry woman from behind. "Stop! Al! No! Stop!" she begged, trying to pull her away; her slender frame made this impossible, especially when faced with the combination of Alkina's screeching wrath and her own nagging injuries.

More strikes. Alkina swung at him even as both Malachite twins struggled to restrain her, snapping his head around with the shovel blade a few more times. By the time they put distance between her and him, the metal was warped and bent all to hell. Opher's face, however, was as pristine as when she started beating him. Without a word, he picked up his hat, dusted it off, and pulled it back on.

"Gods…" she breathed, releasing the shovel and stumbling backward a little before she dropped to her knees again. "Just kill me. Let me go home. Let me see my brother again."

The twins put themselves between him and her to prevent that wish from being granted. He could hear distant shouting – people coming to investigate, no doubt – but Opher wasn't in any rush. His eyes went to the markers. "Sorry for the interruption. I saw your Scroll lights. How many of those are my fault?" he asked quietly.

"Why do you care?" Melanie hissed at him. "You didn't even give us anything to bury. What the hell do you want? Did you come to finish us off?" She held her ground – despite trembling – as he walked toward, then past them to sit down not far from where Alkina had been moments before. "What… what are you doing?"

Staring at the graves, that's what. "Hey, shovel girl. Which one is his?" He followed her Scroll light toward a marker covered with silver paint. "What was his name?"

A whole bunch of uncertain looks bounced between the twins, but Alkina herself couldn't dig up the fear to match. "Clancy."

Opher heard a shouted "Oh, gods, not again!" from some guy on the periphery of the roundabout, off to his right. Lights, Scroll-borne and otherwise, were now shining on him, but he remained seated. His attention was on Alkina's back. "Did he get caught in the fire?"

She wilted again. "Yes. One second he was there… the next… just, nothing."

"Yeah." He waved a hand, directing a little mixture of wind and earth Dust to straighten up every marker in the graveyard. "I'm sorry."

"You're…" Miltia broke just far enough away from her sister to stare Opher down. "Sorry?"

His answer went directly toward the bereaved woman on her knees. "I got mad at the girl in the green cloak. Really mad. Which, I understand, isn't an excuse."

"I hate you." Alkina's words, however, lacked much of a sting.

"You should. Do you have any pictures of him?"

She hesitated for a long time before she turned on her knees to face him. Her fingers moved lethargically across her Scroll screen until, at last, she turned it to show him one – in it, she stood next to a tall, lanky, grinning boy with flame-red hair and green eyes.

Opher took it from her to examine the picture more closely – he honestly couldn't remember killing this man, which wasn't surprising. That fact induced a scowl anyway. A little dive into the folder betrayed more images of him and her both. "What's your name?"

Sure now that she wasn't about to wipe her off the face of Remnant, Alkina stood with the increasingly bewildered Malachite sisters. "It's… it's Alkina. Why are you-"

"Hold on." Opher placed one hand on the cracked street and continued to examine the photos. Moments passed – time that those who came to investigate used to form a loose circle around them, weapons ready, but not aimed. Without warning, he suddenly pulled a stone figurine out of the ground; a large, precise replica of the first image she'd shown him of the two of them standing together. He rose to his feet, then offered it, along with the Scroll, to a stunned Alkina. "It's not him, but at least you'll have something to hold on to."

She had no idea what to say and simply took the items before walking away toward the loose perimeter of armed sentinels; this left the Malachite twins alone with him, unarmed, yet unwilling to try and flee. "Why are you here?" Melanie finally asked.

"I want to talk to your mother."

He wouldn't have long to wait; a panting Beatrix arrived moments later, escorted by more of her armed subordinates. Her purple outfit was a hastily-assembled mess. Seeing the identity of their caller caused her to come to a dead halt, eyes wide with terror. "You… if something happened to your friends, that wasn't us! I swear on my baby girls! We had nothing to-"

His raised left hand shut her up. "Indigo and Schwarze are fine. They're not exactly pleased with me at the moment, I guess, but they're fine." The distant howling of Grimm drew their attention briefly. "I'll handle that if they get in here."

"Mom, he wants to talk to you," Miltia whispered.

Beatrix, flanked by her daughters, stared at him for silent ages. He stood there all the while, hands in his pockets, and stared back. "Everyone back to your posts," she finally commanded. "And take a breath. I'm sure one of us will call if we need you." It took them a long while to obey, but obey they did, leaving the Malachites alone with Opher – and, some distance away now, a silent Alkina – to continue their staring match. "Why should I tell you anything but where to stick it, sunshine? You cost us a lot of good souls. Friends."

"I know. Sometimes I happen to people without meaning to." Annoyed with the paltry light provided by their Scrolls, Opher used his left palm as a torch for the blue fire, casting azure light across the whole roundabout. The abrupt movement of Alkina's distortion in his Aura told him she might be preparing to attack again. "I'm using it to see, not to kill them. Calm your ass down."

Miltia confirmed it. "Al, stay there. It's okay," she said around him.

"Here's my bargain: information in exchange for a new way to prime Dust without using your Auras."

"Don't fuck with us! You can't prime Dust without Aura!" Melanie snapped back.

One look closed her mouth. "You'd doubt me after all you saw me do? To the Goliath? To the cloak girl? To your friends? To her?" he said, indicating Miltia. No answer from any of the Malachites. "Yeah. Speaking of cloak girl… what's her name?"

"Uhhhhh," Beatrix mumbled. "I don't—seriously, I don't believe this a conversation we should be havin'. I'd rather not attract her anger, you get me?"

"Just tell her I threatened to vaporize your whole crew so she attacks me instead. I'll be happy to beat her ass a second time. Besides, I already know Raven Branwen's name, I may as well have the full set."

Beatrix stepped back with surprise. "You… you know Lady Branwen?"

"Sure. She tried to kidnap me from Vale with her brother and some other bitch. Guess what happened."

"Amber Grace," she finally replied, fanning herself despite the brisk night air. "We just call her Miss or Lady Grace."

"Did you know she could do what she did?"

"No way," Miltia chimed in. "We've never seen her fight before. What was it?"

A cloud of brave moths gathered around his blue flame as Opher balanced how coy to be – after all, anything he said would probably end up in Amber's ears later. Those insects fluttered around and through it without harm. "Doesn't matter for now, I think. I remember you saying you gather information for her. Why does she need it?"

Beatrix wouldn't budge on this. "None of your damn business. Smack me around if you want. Some lines aren't gettin' crossed, honey."

"Fine. How long have you known her?"

"Uh… hell." She looked at her daughters for a moment. "Been a few years. She saved us from a Grimm attack and we've been workin' off that debt ever since. She keeps an eye on us, we feed her gossip, everyone's happy."

"Until you showed up," Melanie grumbled, her arms loosely folded.

"Uh huh." Opher cast a look around at the battered city, especially the district full of leaning skyscraper skeletons, which were now easier to view with the rising of the broken Moon. "How did you all end up out here?"

"We're exiles, of course." Beatrix smoothed down her blonde hair when he looked her way. "Expeditions go north, across the plain where the Frontier Corps can watch them for longer. Vale discards its trash toward the south. You won't find any soldiers or explorers down this way."

"That doesn't totally answer my question, but…" Opher was prepared to move on, but a cough from Miltia stopped him. He waited as Melanie switched sides to be with her sister.

"Dad… dad got killed trying to rob a Dust shop," the girl in red stated weakly. "That's why they threw us out."

His head tilted with confusion. "Why, did you help him during the robbery?"

"No. We didn't know anything about it. But we have his last name and people got... uncomfortable."

"Miltia, sweetheart, you don't have to tell him this," Beatrix said lowly.

"Talking is better than fighting," she mumbled back. His narrow-eyed gaze caused her to flinch. "W-what?"

"Why did they exile you straight away?" he asked. "You weren't the ones that did anything. I thought you'd at least get, I don't know, a warning? Maybe jail time, shit, not this."

Beatrix glanced up at the lights on the rooftops – some of her crew, on overwatch in case Opher did anything stupid. "Enforcement of the policy is… well, to put it politely, a constant judgment call. If they think for a second you're not worth saving, they don't waste time. You're gone. Can't afford to let the rotten fruit spoil a whole Kingdom's worth of harvest, I suppose."

"Huh." The flame in his hand flickered a little as he thought. "Say a disaster happens at some industrial facility. How likely do you think it is the workers would be exiled, even if it was just a mechanical failure?"

"Depends on how big the disaster was," she answered, still fanning herself. "We've got a few that were kicked out 'cause of things like that. Say, your question wouldn't have anything to do with the smoke we saw last night, now would it?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'd say pretty likely. We could smell that awful stuff all the way down here. It must have been bad."

"It was. I had to put the fire out myself."

"That's interesting. You'll kill us without a second thought but risk your life to help people in Vale?" Beatrix put on a wry, almost hateful smirk. "Unless we're talkin' about some of your friends, then I understand. Wish we could have helped ours."

"Yeah, well, feel free to beat me with shovels until you feel better. And for the record, I wasn't risking my life." Opher dropped his arm and let the flame hover nearby instead. While they stared at it with varying levels of confusion, none of them divulged that out loud. "Your whole gang is exiles, then?"

"More or less, honey. Mentally ill, widows and widowers, the grief-stricken, what few criminals Vale makes-"

He lost control of his anger. "Excuse me, what? You can get kicked out for mental illness? If someone you like dies? Are you fucking serious?" The gentle clicks of guns being cocked above them caused him to roll his eyes. "Mad at the concept, not at your boss, learn how to read the damn situation."

"Any emotional instability is a threat to the whole," Miltia explained, her words well-worn and practiced. "Like… we've been taught that since we were kids. Since mom was a kid, and that was a looooong time ago-"

"Watch your tongue, Miltiades," Beatrix warned with a smile. "Still, good point. Didn't you know?"

His expression became more cross with each passing second. "I apparently don't know a lot of shit that I should. One more question… why are there only four Kingdoms?"

"I'd reckon those particular economic and political issues are rather far above my head, friend." Beatrix smirked at his deadpan gaze. "Sure as hell ain't for lack of tryin'. Especially up north, they've been trying to take Vytal for years now. I will say this: seems like villages just can't get established around here. Something keeps wiping them out with no survivors. Gods only know what that might be; I'd say it was the Grimm's fault, but we're still here and whatever it is destroys everything. Grimm don't give a damn about buildings beyond cracking them open to get to their food."

He squinted again. "Huh. I'll look into it. All right, a deal's a deal. I'm gonna teach you the thing, but I have a request: show it to your whole gang. Show it to whoever you pick up. Show it to... well, everybody," he said, planning to determine how far the knowledge would – or perhaps should – spread.

They followed him as he walked toward the far end of the roundabout. "Oh, right, priming Dust without Aura. You're as fucking crazy as we are," Melanie remarked. She watched him flick a red fire Dust crystal all the way back toward where they'd been standing originally – the noise startled Alkina, who reluctantly skittered away toward a few guards that continued to linger in case Opher attacked again.

"Can you still see that crystal?" he asked, adjusting the output of his magical hover-lantern.

"Yeah," Miltia agreed after some adorable squinting. "Why?"

"Someone ask the planet to set it off. You don't even have to say it out loud." He regarded their disbelief with a shrug. "Just try. Like a prayer."

None of them spoke, nor made a move to do much of anything – although, after a few seconds, Miltia seemed to put some effort into the idea if her screwed-up face was any indication. The crystal across the way began to glow and discharged with a gentle fwoosh of orange flame instead of the expected explosion. Seconds later, Miltia burst into tears and collapsed to her knees. "'Tia?!" Melanie snapped – she and Beatrix were by her side in an instant.

This was the first time he'd seen the reaction Pyrrha and friends mentioned. It left him utterly bewildered. "Apparently that's a normal part of the process? Don't ask me why…" He stood back and let her express the emotion, giving her family plenty of room.

"What did you do?" Beatrix demanded a moment later, looking up at him.

Miltia recovered most of her calm, though she continued to lean on Melanie for support. "Mom, I'm okay. It just spooked me a little. It actually feels really nice."

"To answer your question, I didn't do shit. Remnant did." He checked the time on his Scroll and realized he was probably beginning to overstay his welcome. "I need to get back to Vale before someone misses me. I'll be in touch."

"Wait."

Alkina, who had come all the way across the roundabout with the guards in tow, walked right up to Opher with her head bowed. Two of those guards pinned him down with various levels of hatred in their eyes. "Can you…" She paused to turn the statue over in her hands. "Can you make more of these?"

Opher scratched under his hat a couple of times. "You want another one?"

"No. They do."

He looked at her escorts again. "Oh. If they have pictures, yes. The more, the better." One crack of his knuckles later and he was ready to create again. "I can forge a few before I leave, but I need to get back soon."

"How in the gods' name did you make that, by the way?" Miltia asked as Melanie helped her stand again. "You just pulled it out of the street. I don't understand."

"With the same power your cloak girl has," he explained, taking a Scroll from one of the guards. His muted green eyes shone with disgust. "Which is why I got so pissed off about the way she was using it."

Half an hour and four memorial figurines later saw Opher on his way out of Mountain Glenn via wind Dust propulsion into the clear night sky. He gained so much altitude that he could see all three major landmarks in the region at once – Patch to his far left, a twinkling gem in the dark sea with the Moon roughly above it, Vale in the middle, outshining the island by a country mile, and the green decorative lights at the top of Beacon's CCT Tower to his right. Scattered through the air around him were the blinking navigation lights of airships headed in all sorts of directions. Straight up sat a thick blanket of stars. Once he'd caught enough air, his Scroll latched onto the tower's signal and made all kinds of noises indicating messages and voicemails as they piled onto the device. None of these were from Indigo or Schwarze – he sighed with disappointment – but he found one from Yang and about a dozen from Winter Schnee.

He read Yang's first. Forget it. Fuck you.

"The hell did I do?" he mumbled, one hand on his hat to keep it from blowing away. The other messages were from Winter, who wanted to know where he was – in fact, the voicemails turned out to be the same thing. After a little bit of airship-dodging, he finally called her back.

"Where are you?" she said the moment they connected. "I've been trying to reach you since midnight."

"You're up late," he said, glowering at her tone. "Couldn't sleep, went out for some air. I'm on my way back now."

"Good. Pack your bags. They want you in Atlas. In person."

His forward momentum slowed to a stop; he reluctantly switched to gravity magic to hover since he still lacked any of the purple crystals. "Say that again?"

"To put it mildly, your testimonial/demonstration seems to have rocked a few boats." A beat passed. "My superiors want a direct interview."

"No."

"No?!"

"You heard me. For one thing, I'm not leaving Vale until I know Indigo and Schwarze are safe."

"And how do you plan on achieving that?"

"Figured living in the same apartment block would help ward off any potential idiots," he replied, watching a cargo airship lumber past some distance below. "I know there are a few people that must regret challenging me already."

"I dare not even ask what that means. Regardless, it may not work for much longer – they're being reactivated by the Army and deployed to Beacon."

"They're…" That he had to hear this from Winter and not from them was another stab to the heart. A sigh hid that sting. "For fuck's sake… how do you know this?"

"Does it matter? Now, then, when can I get you onto an airship?"

Once he got past being out of the loop, Opher realized that something was off about the whole conversation – specifically what topic wasn't in it. "Hold on. I can't believe you're not curious about what happened at the refinery."

"What refinery?"

His face went blank. "The refinery in the port district. The one on fire yesterday? Surely you saw the smoke."

"I noticed it, yes, but I've not heard anything about the particulars."

"I was there. Hell, the police scanned me twice. Fuck me, nobody's talked to me about it all day."

"Why would they?"

He crossed his free arm, glaring into the night. "I'm the one who put the damn fire out! I even told them that!" A long pause came next, so long that he checked his Scroll for a dropped call.

"Vale has roughly the same policy Atlas does about these things," she explained at length. "Full suppression first, investigation later. A silent investigation. I wouldn't be surprised if the military grills you about it whenever you meet them." She growled for a moment. "Damn it, I forgot about that. You'll have to stay put until that meeting happens. Your passport would get suspended if you no-showed."

"Works for me, I'm not going anywhere until I smooth things over with them." Opher shifted back into forward flight, discarding the true art for wind Dust's embrace. He charged ahead slowly enough to avoid any apparent wind noise. "Here's a question: if Kingdoms are willing to hide trouble everyone can plainly see, what else are they covering up?"

Winter's answer was appropriately grave. "Mister Riese… you have no idea."

"Yeah," he replied, voice full of irritation, "that is becoming abundantly fucking clear."