Chapter 32…

"I'm telling you for the umpteemth time, I am not an anarchist!" Rust hissed at the officer across the metal table.

"Really now?" The officer responded cooly, standing up and pushing in his chair with a metallic shriek. The uniformed man paced around the table to Rust's side, coming close to breathing down the big man's neck. "Do you know how often I hear that exact same line in a single day of questioning? Lets go from the top… tell me your side of the story again…"

"Me and my team were down in Mantle," Rust muttered, his eyes glued on the tabletop.

"Why?"

"We were just poking around… were not from around here."

"Okay…" The officer drawled slowly, pacing around in a circle formation that made Rust feel nervous. "But why the industrial section? What is there to see?"

"Like I said," Rust grit his teeth. "We were just exploring…"

"Together?"

"Yes…"

"That's odd…" the officer clicked his tongue. "Because the call log on your scroll indicated that you made several calls to each other a short while before the incident."

"Have you considered the possibility that we were just coordinating to meet up?"

"But why would you need to coordinate? If you're all hunters in training… which you claim, wouldn't you come down from Atlas together?"

Rust stayed silent, but he cursed himself internally for doing so. Silence wasn't going to help him here… it would only make the officer more suspicious.

"Mr. Zephyr?" The officer asked quietly. "Are you still with me?"

"Yes sir," Rust cleared his throat.

"Good…" The officer planted his hands on the table and leered down at Rust.

"Isn't there supposed to be a good cop?" Rust grumbled under his breath.

"He called in sick today," the officer sniped back. "He has low tolerance for bullshit…"

Rust bit his tongue and stayed quiet.

"Since you're not keen on talking I'll have you returned to your cell," the officer grumbled, reaching across the table to make sure Rust's cuffs were still secure. The handcuffs weren't the only thing keeping him in place, once the police figured out he had an aura they fitted him with an aura blocking collar.

Rust had heard about them before but had never thought he would be wearing one. The heavy metal ring was clamping against his neck and made his shoulders feel heavy.

"Out you go…" The officer muttered, holding open the door. "Follow me…"

Rust exited the questioning room and was escorted back to the jail cells of the police station. First responders milled about the office areas, filing papers or accepting phone calls. Up in the corner of the room was a holo-screen that displayed a news broadcast, the most prominent image being an aerial shot of the still smoldering warehouse where they had been hours before.

The officer who had questioned Rust unlocked the door of the jail cell and he was quickly pushed inside. Rust turned and stuck his hands through the bars, waiting for his handcuffs to be removed.

"We're authenticating you and your friends' claim of being hunters in training," the officer informed Rust as he took away the handcuffs. "But it might be a little while before we can sort it out."

Rust took a moment to rub his sore wrists. "Try and hurry… are you people looking for my friend?"

"Asher? Wasn't it?"

"Yeah… he got abducted after the fight…"

"So you say…" the officer huffed. "Although I'm not inclined to believe you… a missing persons report has been filed… it'll be hard to grab a lead though considering that most of the evidence went up in smoke… nice work there…"

"We didn't start the fire!" Rust seethed.

"So you say…" the officer shook his head and waved over his shoulder. He began humming a tune as he left the jail cell.

Rust let out a rattling breath of frustration and rested his head against the bars. If he listened closely he could hear the thrumming of his own heart against his ribcage. The many wounds on his body still stung, a side effect of having his aura blocked.

"Having troubles, my large friend?" An unfamiliar voice sounded from behind him.

Rust turned to spot another man in the adjacent cell. He was a few feet shorter than Rust and seemed rather young, his brown hair was tied back in a messy ponytail.

"Something like that," Rust breathed out, wandering over to the cell's cot and taking a tentative seat.

"What are you in for?"

Rust narrowed his eyes at the man. "Not sure if I should say…"

"Okay…" the stranger drawled, rubbing his hands on his pant legs. "How about this. I got arrested for spray painting 'Ironwood is a Dick-tator' on the wall of the precinct…"

"That's it?" Rust huffed.

"Well yeah," the stranger reasoned. "Someone has to speak out… other than Robyn Hill!"

"Who?"

"You're not from around here… are you?"

"Nope…"

"It doesn't matter," the stranger shook his head. "My point is… was the crime you 'committed' more serious than the one I'm in here for?"

Rust stayed silent for another long moment. "I still don't know if I should say…"

The stranger's face twisted into a worried look. "Maybe we should stop talking for a bit…"

"Maybe…" Rust chuckled.

At an undisclosed location…

There was a lot of blood in Asher's eyes, which made it a tad bit difficult to see.

The black bag over his head also wasn't helping… nor the splitting headache he had… as if a troupe of tap dancers were performing on his forehead.

He was being carried… no… he was being dragged somewhere. He had only woken up some time ago and was struggling to get his bearings at the moment. Asher was pretty sure he heard the screech of tires and the slam of a truck door as he was shoved around.

The soft substance he was being dragged through was frightfully cold… snow, most likely.

"Get him inside!" A gruff voice called as Asher was jostled and pushed around further. A particularly hard shove to his back left the disoriented boy sprawled on the ground.

"GET UP!" Another voice roared, giving Asher a swift kick to the ribs. Asher yelled in pain as the strike connected… but it also indicated to him that his kevlar vest had been removed.

Three more kicks slammed into Asher's side, beating the boy lower into the ground.

"Stop that!" the first voice chastised, the sounds of pushing following. "Kicking him won't get him in the room faster… help him up and carry him…"

"Yes boss…" the second voice replied. "Sorry…"

"Understandable… but remember that violence must serve a purpose… beating him will bring you nothing."

"Yes boss…"

Asher was hoisted back to his feet by rough hands and his uneven walk continued.

"Don't worry…" A strong hand clamped down on Asher's shoulder. "Things will be better in a little while… we're almost there…"

There was something about that voice that made his blood boil… but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Asher felt a rush of air as he was led into a new room. Burly hands spun him around and sat him down on a rickety sounding chair. Asher huffed when his hands were pinned to the back of the chair; in a few moments his hands and feet were bound.

In a discombobulating flash of light the bag was torn off his head. Asher's eyes took a few moments to adjust and he peered up into the faces of his captors. Two burly, hard faced men were sneering down at him. One of the men was holding a metal collar in his meaty hands and wasted no time strutting forwards to lock the device around Asher's neck.

Asher suddenly felt dead tired… as if he had crawled out of a grave; he realized after a few seconds that whatever small amount of aura that remained in his body had now been hindered.

"Where?" Asher groaned weakly.

"At an undisclosed location…" Verdant Bulwark answered Asher's unfinished question, stepping out from behind his goons. "How are you feeling? I know the anti-aura collar is rather barbaric… but there are certain risks when imprisoning huntsmen..."

"Fuck you!" Asher spat a glob of blood at the floor, landing only inches from Verdant's scuffed dress shoes.

Verdant chuckled darkly and leaned down to Asher's level, giving the boy a strained smile. "I don't hurt people for pleasure… but what you just did has made me very tempted…"

"Where's my team!?" Asher demanded. "WHAT DID YOU DO!?"

"What do you think?" Verdant shrugged his face impassive.

"No…" Asher shook his head, tears beginning to well up in the corners of his eyes as a cold feeling of dread snaked into his heart. "You didn't…"

Verdant remained silent as Asher began to sob, his eyes as cold as glaciers. "I took no pleasure in it… it was a fight you three started…"

"You bastard…" Asher choked through his tears. He began to struggle against his restraints, roaring in animalistic rage and shaking back and forth, angry tears flying in every direction.

Verdant sighed and stood up. "You shouldn't push yourself… you're still out of aura and you could tear something… the only reason I didn't snap your neck back in the warehouse was because of that helmet you wear."

"FUCK YOU!" Asher roared. "Do you think I care! I'm going to kill you…!"

"Wouldn't that be a shame," Verdant clicked his tongue. "Tell me… do you know why you're still alive?"

"Fuck you…"

"It's because you will serve as leverage," Verdant explained, adjusting the sleeves of his bloody shirt. "I already have an agent ready to strike down Honey Aurum if Sage tries to double cross me… but having an immediate friend imprisoned will certainly motivate him…"

"I hate you!" Asher hissed.

"Join the club…" Verdant sighed, motioning for his goons to leave. "But rest assured… once Sage brings me what I asked of him I will let you two leave this place… peacefully."

Asher blinked through the tears. "No you won't…"

"And what makes you so sure that I'm lying?"

"Because I know too much… I don't know about Sage… but as long as I'm around then there's a witness…"

Verdant was silent for a long while, a small smile beginning to tug on the edges of his lips. "Smart boy…"

The gangster turned to leave, pausing in the doorway and looking over his shoulder at the battered young man in the chair. "Since you know what's coming in due time… I'll be sure to make it quick…"

Verdant left, narrowly avoiding another glob of blood that had been spat in his general direction.

Two hours later, in the early afternoon…

Rust had laid down on the cot a few hours ago, more out of boredom than actually being tired. The lumpy fabric beneath him dug into his back and his legs hung off the end of the cot, which made him quite uncomfortable.

Although he was laying still… his head was a maelstrom of thoughts and worries.

The jailer hadn't been keen on answering any questions, leaving Rust completely in the dark about whether or not Atlas academy had responded to the police inquiries. He didn't know how Mauve was doing, seeing as she got sent to the hospital for aura exhaustion, on top of her other injuries…

Asher was gone… abducted… his fate left unknown. What about Sage? His estranged teammate was still missing… perhaps still under the thumb of his uncle…

… or maybe Sage was perfectly fine, maybe he was exactly where he wanted to be. Rust couldn't say for sure though, he wouldn't know until he had a chance to speak with Sage himself.

Not even the young guy in the adjacent cell was around to keep him company. The man had been shuffled out, presumably to be processed before a minor fine was leveled his way.

Rust sighed and shut his eyes tightly, trying his best to get to sleep.

"Mr. Zephyr?" A gruff voice asked, followed by the ear-ringing noise of a nightstick being tapped repeatedly against the cell bars. "Wake up…"

Rust shot into an upright position, his eyes focusing on the jailer outside the cell. The officer jangled his keys for Rust to see and then opened the lock, sweeping out an arm to beckon Rust out. "You're free to go…"

"Free?" Rust questioned, rubbing his sore wrists as he approached the jailer. "Like totally? DId you guys speak to Atlas academy or something?"

"Sort of," the jailer answered. The uniformed officer reached up with his key chain and inserted a small key into the aura blocking collar. With a quick twist and click the tight collar became loose and the officer removed it. Rust sighed in relief as his near-depleted aura got to work, feeling a tingling sensation as the wounds on his face began to close.

The jailer turned away and beckoned to Rust, leading him back in the direction of the offices. "It was a bit of a weird situation and I'm not the guy to ask. But there's an Atlesian officer out there who demanded your immediate release… and it seemed to check out…"

"Huh…" Rust deadpanned, feeling anxiety coil up inside him. "Whaddaya know…"

Rust stepped into the bustling office to find the Atlesian officer in question. She was a tall woman in a neatly ironed and dazzlingly clean military uniform. The woman was quite tall, although her height was clearly propped up by the heeled boots she was wearing. Underneath her tailcoat Rust could make out the finely wrapped hilt of a sword.

There was something about her white hair and blue eyes that made her familiar to Rust. He was instantly reminded of Weiss Schnee, who shared a lot of physical traits with the woman before him.

Come to think of it… didn't Weiss mention that she had a sister? He honestly couldn't remember, Beacon felt like ages ago…

"Look, I'll turn him over because everything checks out," the officer who had been interrogating Rust complained to the white haired woman. "But you Atlas types have a lot of nerve coming in here and demanding suspects from us…"

"I apologise for the inconvenience this may have caused you, detective," the white haired officer cooly responded, her tone prim and proper. "I thank you for accepting my request…"

"Right," the officer grumbled, the ghost of a scowl highlighting his face. He turned to Rust and the ghost of a scowl graduated into a full one. "You're off the hook… try not to burn anything else down…"

"I didn't do it!" Rust seethed.

"So you say…" the officer mumbled, waving with his hand and walking off in an unforeseen direction.

Rust turned to the Atlesian officer and straightened his back. He knew that the gesture was pointless, considering that he was still littered with cuts and bruises.

"Mr. Rust Zephyr?" The Atlesian officer asked, her tone still polite. Rust was considerably taller than her, but he couldn't find the uncomfortable quiver in his spine as she stared at him.

"That's me…"

"I am Specialist Winter Schnee. I have been sent to return you to Atlas, where there will be an inquiry," Winter Schnee explained, her lips curling distastefully at the word "inquiry".

Internally, Rust was quite pleased with himself for deducing the woman's familial connections. A sense of dread overpowered that though…

… he was in deep shit.

"Please follow me," the Specialist requested. Before Rust could respond she turned on her heel and marched off, with Rust scrambling to keep up behind her.

"I need to speak with you!" Rust huffed. "My teammate Asher, he was-"

"Enough!" The woman hissed over her shoulder, causing Rust to falter. "Not here… not now… wait a few minutes…"

Rust held his tongue, allowing Winter to lead him to the roof of the building.

A military spec bullhead was waiting on the landing pad with its side door already opened. Rust and Winter hoisted themselves into the aircraft, the military officer disappearing into the cockpit before Rust could say anything to her.

"Rust?" A female voice called.

Rust snapped around to meet the bloodshot amber eyes of his team leader.

"Mauve!" Rust called out, rushing over to sit next to his friend. "Are you okay?"

"I still feel like shit…"

Although it was rude to even think it… Rust couldn't help but think that Mauve looked the same way as she felt. The scratches and cuts that littered her face before were mostly healed, but faint lines could still be seen, indicating that her aura was still a little low. Her clothes were singed in certain places, contributing to her ragged appearance.

And her hair…

Mauve's hair now tumbled free around her shoulders, but its current state was a shadow of its former self. The lynx girls once long hair that reached her hips now barely reached past the base of her neck and was jaggedly cut and frayed at the ends.

"What happened?" Rust gulped, rubbing his friend's shoulder gently.

"Verdant Bulwark happened…" Mauve spoke softly, her tone uncharacteristically meek.

The mere mention of their foe sent a wave of despair crashing through Rust.

"He cut your hair?"

"It was an act of humiliation…" Mauve sighed sadly. "Something to remember him by…"

"I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," Mauve shook her head. "There are bigger issues at stake here than my own vanity… Asher, did they start looking? Did they find him? Rust?"

Mauve's eyes were pleading and desperate, Rust felt disappointed that he couldn't give her a conclusive answer.

"I'm sorry," Rust whispered, seeing Mauve wilt. "The police are beginning an investigation… they told me… but most of the evidence burned up with the warehouse."

Mauve was silent, she burrowed into Rust's side and the large boy held her gently with his arm. The bullhead began to thrum and vibrate as it ascended into the sky.

"Asher was right… I was so fucking reckless," Mauve sobbed into Rust's shoulder, making the fabric of his jacket moist.

Wait a moment… Mauve was crying?"

Rust looked down to confirm his disbelief… shocked to his core when he found puffy eyes and a face full of tears staring back at him. Rust had known Mauve for a while now and couldn't recall a single time when he had seen her cry…

...things were bad, they were worse than ever.

"Calm…" Rust whispered, petting the back of his leader's head in a gentle motion. "No one could have seen this coming…"

"This entire situation is a giant fucking mess..." Mauve choked out.

"Maybe," Rust reassured his friend. "But what's done is done…"

Rust gasped when Mauve ripped herself out of his arms.

"How can you say that!" Mauve hissed, breathing in a sharp intake of air. "Sage is missing… Asher is missing… we might be facing punishment for what we did! How can you just say what you said with a straight face!"

"Mauve-"

"We're the ones who are done," Mauve chuckled darkly. "Don't you understand? We might have just fucked things up for Sage, assuming he's on our side still; and Asher is nowhere to be found!"

Rust fell silent, allowing Mauve to get the anger out.

"I watched him drag Asher away…" Mauve whispered, small tears dropping from her face and spattering onto her lap. "Verdant grabbed him by the leg and dragged him off in front of me… he stole Asher's weapon too…"

"And I was lying half-conscious on the floor," Rust huffed. He got up from his seat and knelt down in front of the lynx girl, taking her gloved hands in his own. "Listen… we messed up… there's no denying that-"

"I messed up…" Mauve corrected, holding back a sob. "I'm team leader…"

"Let me finish," Rust shook his head. "Things are bad… but not hopeless. There is still a chance that we can make this right. We can find Asher and Sage… we can bring down Verdant too."

"How?" Mauve gasped in frustration.

"I concur," Winter Schnee interrupted, startling Rust. The officer was standing in the cockpit door, leaning an arm against the frame.

"How are we…?" Rust spoke gently, turning back to Mauve. "The same way we all got into Beacon on our own terms, how we all formed a team, how we sorted through our difficulties to become more functional, how we got ourselves whipped into shape for missions and the Vytal tournament…" Rust paused for a long moment. "The same way we survived the fall of Beacon…"

"Which is?" Mauve wiped her nose with her forearm, making the already singed fabric of her windbreaker even messier.

"Were going to work for it," Rust answered. "It's not going to be easy… but we'll put our heads together and figure out…"

"Rust-" Mauve choked out, her eyes still streaming tears.

"Listen to me," Rust interrupted, feeling tears well up in his own eyes as well. "You were always the best out of us four… you whipped us all into shape and still had energy left over. This is the first time I've ever seen you cry… this is also the first time I've heard you admit defeat… please Mauve… I can't do this without you."

Mauve fixed Rust with a blank stare.

Rust squeezed her hands tighter. "Mauve… we don't know what happened to Asher or Sage… but we can't just throw our hands up in the air and give up."

Things were silent for a long and tense moment.

But then Mauve began to laugh. It started off as a little shrill, occasionally mingled with a cough or choke from the lynx girl, but fell into a more regular pattern. Rust felt worried when his team leader threw her head back and continued to chuckle.

"I'm frustrated…" Mauve finally spoke, her tone surprisingly clear. "My entire body is aching and my aura is barely there… but did I ever say that I was giving up?"

"I-" Rust blanched and recoiled.

"Did you expect that from me?" Mauve mocked with a grin. "Did you expect me to do nothing about my kidnapped boyfriend and my estranged friend? Really Rust?"

"Well… you seemed a little-"

"I asked you how…" Mauve gasped out, her tears beginning to dry on her cheeks. "I never said this was over…"

A small smile creeped up Rust's face, he felt his chest swelling up with pride. "There's the Mauve I know…"

"The 'Mauve' you know is fucking mad…"

"Good," Rust continued to smile, squeezing Mauve's hands one more time before withdrawing them. The large boy lifted himself up and took a seat as the bullhead began to dock at Atlas academy.

"Interesting," Winter Schnee nodded her head, capturing the attention of the two teammates. "You have a lot of drive, Ms. Tempesta…"

"Thank you," Mauve swallowed, wiping her cheeks with her hands to clear up her face.

"But remember," Winter chided. "Neither of you will be doing much of anything without General Ironwood's approval… and I find that outcome to be doubtful at this present time."

Rust faltered at that information but Mauve held her chin up, her amber eyes ablaze with purpose again.

"Well… let's go have a chat with the General then…"