Epilogue

Smoky took a deep breath and rose from his desk, stretching his short arms. Yawning, he grabbed a few documents and walked down the hallway to the infirmary, his gait slowing and his movements becoming stilted; he walked the walk of a constipated Faunus. He passed by Gaunt's Elite Guard-their gaze was cool and professional as befitting Hunters, but Smoky knew they were burdened with self-doubt and regret. Pausing before the door, Smoky mustered his courage and entered the room.

Gaunt sat in a hard metal chair by the window, turning his head to look at the entering Faunus-or he would have, had he any eyes to see. Even still Smoky quailed at the sight of the black gashes; it was as if some beast still lurked in those depths, looking straight into his soul and judging him. Shaken, he walked forward, staring out of the window to look at something other than those pits. Outside, he could see a few Atlesian soldiers carrying coffins to their Bullhead; one more diplomatic headache to deal with.

"Well? Don't stand there, speak." The General commanded, his voice low but harsh.

"General Gaunt- "Smoky tried to speak calmly and professionally but looking into that dark void he could not "-I'm sorry. We've been discharged by the Council's order." He said, his voice shaking. His life's work was in the intelligence networks he built, and now it was all being taken away from him.

"Typical. You give your all for your country and get shafted by politicians looking for a scapegoat to blame their failures on." Gaunt said, his voice as thick with contempt as the air was thick with the smell of bleach. "They don't know how many soldiers I sacrificed; but then again I suppose it is easy for them to sacrifice anything, even their mothers for advancement."

"I'm sorry." Smoky whispered, taking his fedora off. It was all he could say.

"There's a lot I want to say to you, especially about our operational security the day this happened- "Gaunt pointed to where his eyes were "-but what's the point? What's the fucking point? What's the point of doing fucking anything in this fucking shitty fuck- "The General's speech descended into a barrage of slurs and insults and he swept the tray from his table. Smoky stepped back and turned away, his ears numb to the tirade as he contemplated his own future. He had delivered the news, and now he had to focus on his next move. He returned to his office and sat down at his desk, his breathing heavy. Opening the top left drawer, he saw a half-empty box of cigars and next to it was his service revolver, its black metal gleaming.

He lit the cigar and took a puff, then brought out the weapon. Cigar clenched between his teeth he unlatched the cylinder with his right hand and pushed it out with two fingers of his left, the index and middle. Using his thumb, he reloaded a single Fire Dust bullet, closed the cylinder, and spun it before pressing it against the side of his head. Outside he could hear footsteps; the people to relieve him of his position were coming. Heart pounding, he pulled the trigger just as the door began to open.

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Aciero walked through the rubble, Makellos strutting by her side. To her far left stood Glyna, and above her a winged Hunter wielding a massive warhammer floated, scouting the area.

"It seems all clear to me, Madam Goodwitch!" The flying Hunter called out. "May I return to Father Solarus, now?"

"You may, Gabriel." Goodwitch nodded. "Please inform the other Hunters that it is safe to advance. Aciero, how soon can you bring up the excavation vehicles?" With her Semblance she began to effortlessly lift large chunks of rubble, tossing them aside.

"Soon as we can clear out a landing ground, we can get the heavier vehicles up here." She immediately got her exoskeleton arms to work, scooping away the rubble. "Mind yourself, Makellos." She said, almost absent-mindedly, her mind drifting to other topics; namely, what became of Caleb Grauer's son. She was still trying to process what happened that day he stormed into her workshop with his friends, military chasing after him, an attack almost immediately afterwards-it had all got her rather concerned for her late friend's son.

"Miss Goodwitch?" She asked, "Do you know anything of what happened to a boy named Herman Grauer? Big fella, messy grey hair, mashed up face and massive sword…" Her voice trailed off when she saw the Headmistress's back stiffen.

"No." Glynda said curtly. "You have the Vale Intelligence to thank for that, sticking their fingers into our business. I had so much to deal with, I barely had any time to spare for that boy."

"Vale Intelligence? Why would they want him? I knew he was in some sort of trouble, but- "

"Why do you want to know, Aciero? What is your ex-teammate's son to you?" Glynda turned around to face her, her glasses shining in the light of the setting son.

"I'd just like to know, that's all. After Caleb's knee got shredded and he left our group, I had no contact with him for a long time, and then his son turns up his bloodied weapon-call it the ghost of our old friendship, but I was concerned for him."

"Let's just say Ozpin was trying to rehabilitate him after the kid had gotten himself mixed up with the White Fang-tale as old as time, I know. Beacon is full of people trying to bury their pasts, and Ozpin was always committed to helping people move forward with their lives." Glynda pushed her glasses up and continued speaking. "From a moral standpoint it was the right thing to do, from a practical standpoint Grauer could have been a useful addition-his Aura was impressive and his fighting spirit was ferocious, and it was because of these two traits certain players in the Intelligence Services thought they could use him by using his past as leverage. Not helping matters was that fool of a boy marching into battles and exposing himself further to exploitation-that missile launch? He did it on behest of said Intelligence Service officials." Glyna sighed and sat on a flat white stone. "Maybe I should have assigned someone to watch him, but the situation was so dire, we could spare no one."

"Where is he now, though? And I hope you won't mind naming the people trying to manipulate him?" Aciero mashed a metallic exoskeletal fist into her fleshy right one, anger budding in her chest. "No one interferes with the business of us Hunters."

"Can't answer both of those, Aciero." Glynda sighed, getting back up to clear more rubble. "And frankly, my priority is to rebuild Beacon-not chase after lost children. If it makes you feel any better, I have been asking the scouting parties for news-none so far. It's been a few days since that attack, so he might be- "

"Don't say it, Glynda." Aciero said bitterly, lighting a flare to indicate the landing zone for the Bullheads. "Let's get this over with."

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The 2nd Lt. wiped the sweat from his brow and brought his pickaxe on the chunk of crystallized Dust embedded in the rock wall. It splintered, shedding tiny shards upon the ground, and up rose a thick fume that set his lungs on fire.

"That's my life expectancy sinking by another fifteen years." He thought, raising his sinewy arms up one more to scrape away at chunks of embedded Dust crystal. The air in the dank cave was stale, and hardly provided enough circulation for the prisoners to breathe, all while their guards patrolled with gasmasks. He heard the wheezing of the young lad next to him, followed by a soft thump. Turning his neck slightly, he saw the boy was on the ground, his breathing extremely shallow and his skin very pale.

"Up you get, you lazy fucking animal." A guard shouted, kicking the fallen kid in the side, who didn't respond. The 2nd Lt. bristled, but what could he do? The fetters about his ankles barely let him move but a few steps and he was lightheaded from the hard work coupled with poor nutrition. Still, he felt his anger build and give strength to his limbs as he saw the guard laugh and spit on the boy's body. Visions of the farm he grew up on flashed before his eyes, the cold manacles, hot irons-

"Oi!" the 2nd Lt. shouted, turning about as much as his chains allowed. "Call the doctor, asshole!" The words left his mouth before he even knew it. The guard stopped as the sounds of picks scraping faded away; the 2nd Lt. became keenly aware of the other miners watching the two in dread silence. One word, and they would be the next to face his wrath.

"What did you say, you shitty little- "The guard walked up quickly and hit the 2nd Lt. in the gut, forcing the Faunus to the ground. His radio buzzed, making him pause.

"Yeah, just a bit of a discipline problem. You know how it is. Yeah, don't worry, I won't kill him."

That was hardly reassuring for the 2nd Lt.-but he had no time to think as he felt a steel boot press into his neck, constricting the blood flow in his neck. Gasping, he felt his vision darken and his lungs empty. His heart raced as he tried to breathe in-

The pressure was suddenly released, and the Faunus was suddenly taking in deep breaths of thin air mixed with powdered dust. His vision cleared, and he saw a dark-eared Faunus with a familiar mask standing above him. One of his arms was pure metal, which he used to split the 2nd Lt's manacles, and with his organic arm he helped the Faunus up.

"Hassan!" The 2nd Lt. exclaimed when he got his breath back. "I didn't know that you still lived!"

"No time to catch up." Hassan said, patting the 2nd Lt. on his back. "The Huntsmen I killed will be missed; and many of our comrades need to be freed." He handed him a twelve-gauge pump action shotgun. "Furthermore, I have a lot of things I must tell you."

"You're the very incarnation of tenacity, still fighting on after everything." The 2nd Lt. muttered as he rubbed his wrists and inspected the weapon.

"Someone has to be." Hassan said, racking the slide on his sniper rifle. "The revolution is far from dead-indeed, it has just begun."