Cinder is clearly not as carefully hidden as she previously thought. That's unfortunate. She has business to attend to that doesn't brook interruption, and now a second White Fang visitor has stopped by. The White Fang are an inconvenience, a cover story, a group far less prepared and far more radical than Cinder's own mission. And her own subordinates are careless with information. The first visitor is most likely dead, but the second one knows her name at the very least, and likely more.
Cinder curses under her breath. She will need a better deterrent to keep people out of Ground Zero. One of Salem's pets should do the trick. She hates the thought of Grimm being necessary at this point, but she has her own missions to take on.
…
Pyrrha's fingers skim over the map again as she checks it one more time. The desert has virtually no landmarks aside from the vast craters, so any indication of terrain is marked as clearly as possible. There are decades of black ink sketches of contour lines and rocks, and a faint pencil line showing their path, with notes of abandoned settlements or water sources scattered alongside it.
There is no mention of the enormous white structure in front of them. Pyrrha keeps the journals, and she has decades of Grimm attacks and weather patterns stored in worn notebooks. None of them mention this.
"What's the plan?" Nora asks, Yang nodding beside her. The two defer to her almost instinctively on these matters, because she knows the desert. She's not a Guide, far from it, but she knows the land well enough.
"We'll wait and see what it does," she says. "We have more than enough water, and nothing to be escaping from."
Blake flinches at that, fingers tapping their nervous rhythms on the wall.
"White Fang territory is miles West, and they'd never track you across this much empty desert," Pyrrha says to reassure her. "Your Cinder might be closer, but as far as she knows you're dead, so she won't be chasing you."
Blake nods, still looking concerned.
"No harm in camping out for a few days," Yang says. "It's a nice place, for the desert."
It is a nice place, relatively speaking. It's still barren, but far enough from particularly devastated areas. As far as Pyrrha can tell, it was attacked with bioweapons or fire, that destroyed any signs of life and then died out with the plants, leaving nothing harmful behind. Convenient.
Nora is already on the roof of the truck, lying down on her stomach, staring out at the white structure. Yang joins her. Pyrrha remains in the shadow of the truck to finish her notes on the initial appearance of the structure.
They wait. The structure doesn't move or change, and they have to give up their vigil when they're plunged into near-complete darkness.
The second day, the structure is still apparently abandoned. Nora and Yang try to spot clouds in the vast and empty blue sky.
It's dusk on the second day when they see someone approaching the structure, someone dressed in black and far away from them.
"I'll try to get closer; cover me," Blake whispers, then begins stalking across the sand, counting on the half-light and hills to hide her. Pyrrha readies her rifle and begins scanning the area for Grimm or other threats.
Blake eventually gets to within twenty feet of the person in black, who gives no sign of having seen her. They continue forward until they reach the structure, then disappear behind it. Blake drops to her knees and ventures as far out from the shelter of the dunes as she can, then retreats.
They go back into the truck to debrief. They'll have to be more careful about their voices now; sound travels a long way in the desert.
"I saw her face," Blake says.
"What did she look like?" Pyrrha asks, readying her notebook. It might be friend or foe, and either way it's important enough information to write down.
"It was Cinder," Blake says slowly. Yang and Nora exchange a worried glance.
"Are you sure?" Yang asks.
Blake nods.
"She has eyes you don't forget. They're gold, and they shine even when there's no light." Blake shudders. Yang reaches out a hand to rest on her shoulder, the way she would treat any teammate under stress.
Pyrrha tries to keep her face steady and scrawls down the information. Cinder is here, with them, barely a stone's throw away.
"There's more," Blake says, shrugging Yang's hand away. "The structure – I got close, and it doesn't look old. It doesn't have any of the scars you'd expect from something that weathers desert storms. It looks too new for the desert."
"That's odd," Pyrrha begins, and is cut off by Nora.
"What if it's from the Cities?"
"Why would the Cities venture down here?" Pyrrha asks. Nora has her crazy ideas, but she gets a little upset when Pyrrha crushes her hopes immediately.
"I don't know, but it makes sense if the structure is new," Nora says.
"It does make sense," Blake mutters, "but it doesn't explain why Cinder is there. Her lab was well-equipped for the desert, but not good enough to match the Cities."
"We'll have to see," Pyrrha says, frowning. It's her job to be the sensible one, but her mind is already flying away with new ideas. Perhaps Cinder is from the Cities, and the people of the Cities are exactly as barbaric as she's been told. That makes a little too much sense.
…
Her name is Neopolitan, but nobody calls her that. It's always Neo and Torchwick, Torchwick and Neo. They aren't fighters or survivors, but they don't need to be. Not when they have information. And they have all the information.
Neo trains the Guides, and they form something between a private army and a spy network. Other groups will pay handsomely for information on their enemies, or to keep their own classified information from falling into the wrong hands. Neo takes their bribes and sells that information anyway, because she knows they know she'll do it. Nothing that Neo and Torchwick know is a secret, for the right price.
They get all sorts of visitors out here, powerful leaders and desperate drifters alike. Neo isn't sure what the newest one is. She's White Fang by her tattered insignia, but the White Fang don't send low-level members to her.
The girl kneels in front of Neo, whispering "I humbly beseech your aid." Finally, someone who understands deference around here. Neo motions for her to stand and continue.
"I am Ilia Amitola," she begins. "Not long ago, perhaps a month, Blake Belladonna went missing from the White Fang. We tracked her to the edge of Ground Zero, and I ventured across the crater in search of more evidence. I found none, but I do have on good faith, from another Guide, that a woman named Cinder is working in the Ground Zero site."
Cinder. Neo turns the name over in her mind. She knows it, vaguely, from some event long ago, but she'll have to check the files.
Neo motions for Ilia to continue.
"I'm looking for information on Blake Belladonna," she says. Her face slips from the impassive mask all Guides are used to wearing. She cares about her friend, rather than just being some bounty hunter sent to track down a deserter. That's sweet, and also to Neo's advantage.
Neo waits, slowly raising one eyebrow. Ilia gets the hint quickly, and spills what White Fang secrets she has. Not much new, but Neo will take the information when she can get it. She's never heard of Blake Belladonna anyway.
Neo flicks through the files, then turns to ostentatiously shrug and give Ilia a pitying smile. Ilia sighs and walks away, leaving faint traces of sand on Neo's floor. Neo scowls fiercely at the sand, then lets the glamour of the walls slip for a minute, revealing a seemingly abandoned, decrepit cave rather than the opulence usually visible. It's an easy way to trick unwelcome visitors.
Regardless of the sand, Ilia's visit held little of importance. If the White Fang show up looking for either one of them, Neo will sell them out without a second thought, because it's what she does. She's not loyal.