"You know as well as I do, we can't send any more reinforcements to Vale."

After the incident report of the spec-ops team sent to Mountain Glenn, general James Ironwood began putting together a greater picture of the problems that plagued the kingdom in which he was a honorary guest. He also knew, as much as it pained him, that he would need a lot more people to do things properly.

The person he was speaking with had a different opinion. A respected public figure back at home, and his dear mentor, the retired general Carter Billow was Ironwood's right hand whenever he needed help. It was Carter that thought him how to run a military and how to be a responsible member of the Council. If only he taught him how to be the Headmaster of an academy full of hormonal teenagers, he would have been set for life. Their conversation was a reminder of why his mentor refused to run that institution.

"Our hands are tied no matter how you look. Atlas' finest are all over Remnant, solving other people's problems rather than our own. Every kingdom out there judged our ways with scorn and disgust back then. Now they come to us crying for help."

Ironwood sighed. Policing Vale had a toll on him lately.

"While it is true that their criticisms are heavily biased, we must remember that they are the only pockets of humanity left on this planet. We agreed we would be Remnant's sword when the time comes, just as they promised to trade with us in return. And I don't mean it in a strictly business sense."

The ex-general protested: "We simply don't have the required manpower for the job. The robots that you wanted as a replacement for our soldiers, a bad decision I might add, are now fighting alongside them. They are far more trouble than an average taxpayer is willing to take, as we lack the industrial prowess needed for a faster mass production. I'm afraid that we will have to resort to conscription again."

"That won't be necessary" Ironwood cut sharply "We are defending our citizens from danger, not throwing them at it."

"Do you have a better option, I assume?" Carter lay back in his chair and sighed, "I don't know what to do here, damn it. All I ever did in my career was killing Grimm and apprehending terrorists, not… whatever gods-know-what is going on out there."

"…I understand."

"Can you believe it?" the older man's thick eyebrows were raised in bewilderment, "I couldn't when I read the report from yesterday."

"I'm afraid you are not the only one."

"The dead were rising from the graves, Ironwood! An entire settlement was overrun by dead people! We lost fifteen men and women before, out of nowhere, the dead stopped moving again!"

"Did the incident leak in the public?"

Carter's left side of the mouth twisted upwards when Ironwood said "incident".

"…No. There wasn't anyone alive to report it."

Ironwood cupped his face with his right hand. It was a tragic loss of human life, or what little existed of it, that couldn't be prevented. Even bigger tragedy was the absolute need to hide it from the world like a dirty little secret, out of fear from the catastrophic outcomes that would happen should the good citizens of Atlas know. In those trying times, the Grimm didn't need to be a bigger problem than they already were.

"I see. Any other… unpleasantries, I have to know about?"

Former general Billow put on display a photo of an island. It was covered in a cloud of reddish gas.

"This is a shot taken from one of the patrolling squads. It's that island you ordered quarantined. Now it is entirely covered in this toxic gas. Our scientists are trying to analyze the damn thing but everything that comes in contact with it turns into rusty pile of scrap. Needless to say, it's even worse for the lungs."

The picture was swapped away with a finger, replaced by a shot with a camera of some forest grounds. The grass was deep purple in color, as were the leaves on the few trees present in the picture, which were a far cry from what little Ironwood knew about them. Coupled with a purple haze, in which he was sure he had seen contorted shapes of things better left unknown, gave the image a feeling of some great and ancient evil, ready to burst at the viewer the moment they let their guard down.

"This is the last image our scouting drone sent back before inexplicably shutting down. It's that forest that was all the rage on the radio. Whatever this phenomenon is, it keeps spreading, like a damn disease. We won't be able to cover it up forever."

Great, thought Ironwood, more problems he had to think about. He made a mental note to himself to give a bigger budget to the Atlesian Department of Science and Development. That teleportation project they kept pestering him about sounded really useful all of a sudden.

"Anything else I should know?" he said wearily.

"Apart from civil unrest, Grimm attacks and terrorist threats?"

Ironwood's mouth turned into a thin, humorless smile.

"The report I got is no laughing matter either. I'll send it to you throughout the day."

"I know that you put your heart behind that request, James. It pains me when I have to say no to your request. I know you are not asking reinforcements for yourself. But what can I give you, honestly? Maybe a handful of recruits and some Huntsmen greenhorns? What good will that do?"

"As if I don't know." Thought Ironwood.

Nobody thought Braylon would make it out alive.

An ambulance waited for them when they landed into Vale. Ruby pressured the medical staff, saying how they needed to hurry and bring him to the closest hospital available. When they saw the pitiful state he was in, they exchanged a glance with each other, quietly agreeing that his survival was past the point of being questionable. But out of empathy, and due to the little girl's puffy-eyed look, they decided to do their best and transport him to the Saint Vitrum's Hospital for Huntsmen, where the titular Huntsmen got the best professional care Remnant could offer. Unexpectedly, the local academy paid all the medical bills, orders from the Headmaster himself, even if there were no jobs or operations issued to Braylon or team RWBY.

He is off limits, the doctors would say for the first few days to everyone who tried to visit Braylon. He was in intensive care, they would say, and that would often put an end to any complaint that might have surfaced. Ruby's team proved essential for her emotional well-being and support in those days. Members of team JNPR were the second to know about the incident. Although they had their own internal problems, noticeable to everyone close to them, they gave their best to provide help whenever RWBY needed. If nothing else, the emotional rollercoaster served to strengthen the bonds between the two teams even further.

Just like her teammates tried to be her support, so Ruby tried to be his. She was the one who woke up early in the morning and tried to see him, to see again the dreadful figure that came back to her, the walking corpse himself. She was denied until, one day, she met with the doctor that was responsible for her friend's care. He told her to sit and wait in front of his office. He came back with a set of papers and a grim expression.

"Never seen anything like it." was the first thing he said, "Multiple fractures, internal bleeding, multiple organ failure, third degree burns, malnutrition…" He had the sensibility to stop listing when he glanced at her horrified expression, "He should've been dead on the spot, yet he's there, breathing. We have to stuff him with pills on a daily basis, though in my opinion, be prepared for the worst."

"W…worst? How worst?"

"Absolute worst? Death. Two to three days tops. Mildly worst? Coma, duration unknown. Maybe a month, maybe a year. One thing's for sure: if he wakes up, his career's over before it even began."

He left her there, busy with other patients, as was the norm in that hospital. A wave of sadness overcame her mental defenses and she felt the need to cry then and there. She considered him a friend, even if they knew so little about each other. How couldn't she when he was the one that brought back her teammates and her sister from death. If only there was a way for her to do the same.

She would later return to Beacon where she got even more bad news. The whole team was so fixated on their problems that they barely had the time to think about anything else. Even then, the cruel reality that was Remnant had to march on, stomping the proverbial human face with its foot.

RWBY learned that a tragedy struck Vale while they were stuck in Mountain Glenn. A train, suspected to be hijacked by White Fang, used the old underground railroad system to cause an immense explosion in the Agricultural District, the city's lifeblood. As if the millions of Lien of property damage wasn't enough, a gigantic horde of Grimm used the opportunity to flood the area, killing and injuring the residents. Only 60% of the population survived and managed to flee from the district, before the local authorities closed it off to prevent further damage. It was by sheer luck that the founder of the city, the king of Vale, proved to be a brilliant man yet again.

Unfortunately, the king's brilliance couldn't be relied on anymore. The city was on its knees. Without the agricultural district to provide everyone with food and resources, the local politicians had to resort to nearby settlements and foreign aid from other kingdoms. But that was a plan that couldn't last forever. It became very clear to everyone that the district had to be taken back at all costs, if the city wished to prolong its life span. Either that or letting it fall, along with the rest of the kingdom.

Thusly the Headmaster declared an "extraordinary state". All classes, all lectures would be postponed and discontinued until humanity reconquered the Agricultural District. Students who wish to partake in any operation that would be conducted there, or any humanistic endeavor in general, would be rewarded with money as well as academic achievements, as a way to further stimulate them into cooperation with Atlesian military and other organizations.

Some decided to volunteer in retirement homes, humanitarian camps and hospitals. Others went to fight the enemy that dared to step into their homes. The latter were the object of focus of the public eye. It was amazing how people were drawn to bad news no matter how much they suffered.

Those that came back from the district kept repeating the same line: the number of Grimm keeps increasing. It was logical. More Grimm would be attracted the more humanity brewed negativity. What was weird, however, was the fact that the Grimm kept grouping into pockets of various sizes rather than wander aimlessly. The reason for such behavior was unexplained.

Even worse was the infestation of Sturgs, the invasive species that mysteriously appeared throughout the kingdom. Once or twice they attacked a group of Huntsmen before scurrying off into their holes. Many food stockpiles were lost and cattle killed by those pests.

The third problem were the tall and black creatures that attacked whenever observed. While it is true that they were mostly neutral, their numbers made it hard to maneuver on the battlefield. Two professionals went missing because of them. One lost an arm and a leg. At least they were more than happy to apply the same treatment to the Grimm.

All of that meant that someone had to go out there and help those who put their lives in danger for others. For Ruby, that someone had to be her.

The nightmare came back to haunt her. Unlike her minions, who slept soundly like a pair of rocks, her past followed her no matter how much she tried to forget it.

There was always a pattern to the whole dream. First thing she would see was the cursed orphanage where she had to endure the whims of other children. Then she would skip to the point where that woman would take her to the hotel, where she was no better than a slave. On bad days, she would experience vivid visions of some of the worst mistreatments she had there. After that, she would watch, from a different perspective, her encounter with the Huntsman, her training with him and, finally, his death by her hands. When the nightmares first came, she could barely sleep. Then it became way too boring way too quick. Now she would feel a little pang of anger or sadness, but nothing that really moved her, at all. She just wished for it to end so that she could get back into the void that was sleeping.

But something changed that night, one detail that derailed the movie. In that dream, right after reaching the hotel, young Cinder, for reasons unknown to her, decided to take a quick glance at one of the windows high above her. There she saw a quick flash of light, as if someone took a picture of something. And during the seconds-long light's existence, she saw a tall, shadowy figure stalking from left to right, only to disappear into the darkness.

That confused Cinder. She had the same nightmare for years and that detail was never brought up. Now that she thought about it, she believed that such a thing never even happened. Before she could ask more questions, the scene changed to a room where she just finished scrubbing the floor. It was dark outside and the only light she had was in the form of a lamp, purposefully damaged so that the light was as useless as possible. One of the many "tricks" her step-sisters liked to use.

Older Cinder followed her younger self into the hallway, which was even darker than the night outside of the hotel. Lighting cracked by, filling the hallway with white light through its windows. For a split second, both Cinders saw a silhouette turning around the corner and diving back into the darkness.

It took her a good look at her hands to notice that she was shaking. It was fear. She was shaking out of fear, which surprised her. The only thing capable of instilling fear into her was Salem and that witch had a lot of good reasons why.

The fear she felt upon seeing that silhouette crawling into the black sea of unknown was the same. She lived among Grimm, she was more intimate with those monsters than most people ever were, thanks to Salem. After she understood them, their nature, their way of thinking, their way of coming into being, Cinder lost that fear of Grimm. They were a fact of life just like the sun or air or wild animals. Although she saw their shapes and was familiar with them, the black silhouette was nothing like them. Its arms, it's feet, its deformed head. It looked human, nay, it looked like something that tried to imitate the human form so that it could mock it for how weak it is.

Both Cinders, unaware of each other, decided to follow the shadow with slow, careful steps. They came across a scratched door, illuminated by a flickering light that oozed from below it. Twisting the doorknob, they gathered enough bravery to open it wide.

The remains of her step-sisters were hanging from the ceiling, their blood dripping down on the decapitated corpse of the wretched Madame. Behind them, a humanoid creature with creamy skin, slender fingers, stigmatized hands and a perpetual grin caused by a blanket of skin too short to cover the whole cranium. It held Madame's head like a fruit about to be peeled. Surrounded by five black candles, the creature stared at her with a pair of tiny specks of light, somehow hidden behind a pair of very humanlike eyes. Before she woke up with a scream, Cinder heard words that would be stuck inside her head for the whole following day.

"From light, darkness will thrive!"

The incident on the island was a catalyst for change inside team JNPR. Applying discipline to such a dysfunctional team full of unique personalities was inconceivable before then. Things changed from the moment they returned to Beacon. It was a gradual process, invisible at first, but utterly apparent after some time had passed. Not even the team itself understood and just went along with everything.

Until the day that their leader, well, changed. Jaune was, to the other three, a would-be Huntsman. A rather good one, if he was able to enroll into Beacon. They never asked themselves questions. Like, why was Jaune using a "family heirloom" and not his own weapon? Or why was he the only one who opted for close combat, and yet stood at the sidelines while others fought, despite being the leader whose job is to motivate others through his actions? They never asked those questions. It was his choice and it was on them to respect it.

And then Jaune changed his daily routine.

It was Pyrrha who noticed first and would later pass the news to Nora and Ren. At night, when he thought no one was looking, he would get up from the bed, grab a bag stuffed with clothes and, she discovered after tailing him, go into the gym. He would practice with his sword, shield and the pistol Braylon gave him. After about an hour or so, he would switch to physical exercise, like jumping obstacles or running on a treadmill. At four or five AM, he would finish with the training, take a shower and return to the room.

Pyrrha felt happy that night, knowing that her leader worked on himself that way. It was a very positive thing to do, although she was a bit surprised to find out that he was rather scrawny for someone who was supposed to be in top shape, something required in such a line of duty. She went to sleep that night without a worry, knowing that her team leader was perfectly fine.

Her opinion changed rather quickly few days later. Jaune was doing badly in some classes before and now his grades kept deteriorating without explanation. His mood deteriorated as well. He would walk around Beacon with his shoulders slumped and with bags under his eyes. Even team RWBY saw it.

"Um, are you sure you're okay?" Ruby asked innocently.

"I'm fine." he mumbled, trying to impale a piece of meat with his fork. Pyrrha hated herself for not being able to recognize the fact that he truly had a problem.

"You don't look fine." Yang spoke out loud what everyone was thinking.

"Don't worry about it. I'm fine, you see?" he looked around the table with a small, sad smile. Nobody was convinced, but nobody wanted to more pressure on him either. After the lunch, they walked back to their room. Pyrrha convinced Ren and Nora to leave her alone with Jaune, wishing to talk to him. They looked at each other with sorrowful expressions, though they didn't object. It took a bit of willpower to persuade him to come with her on the rooftop of the dormitories, where they would be alone. It was there that she tried to express himself.

"Jaune, I know something's troubling you. We all know it. I…" she bit her lip, "We could help you if you tell me what is bothering you."

She noticed how he clenched his fists several times.

"I've been thinking about something lately. It's about the mission we had."

"Oh. That."

She didn't like to talk about it. When they came back to Beacon, they all agreed on being silent about the whole ordeal, especially Rena and Jaune. Nora used to complain to Pyrrha how her partner sometimes used to wander somewhere in the middle of an activity, that he wouldn't be present mentally and that it bothered her. Pyrrha wasn't foolish. She realized how deeply it affected them all. She just didn't have the courage to talk about it.

"A-ah, I see…"

"See, I couldn't believe how sheltered we were all this time." he turned to her, "I know that Grimm are evil and a threat to us all, but I, we, have never experienced true evil, you know? Can you imagine how evil someone must be to… to make zombified monsters? Out of people?"

"No… I don't."

"Neither can I. But it does exist. And its out there." he pointed the finger in the distance, "And we haven't really done anything to stop it. All of it. They are still out there while we are here, wasting our time. So I thought, well, if I have to waste time, I might as well become actually useful." he sighed, looking her in the eyes, "Pyrrha, I'm not a real Huntsman."

"Huh?"

The news hit her like a slap in the face. It must have been due to lack of sleep.

"I'm serious, Pyrrha! I'm nothing but a fake! My papers are fake, my skills are a fake, my life is a fake!" the look he gave her terrified her, "I'm a fake, Pyrrha. I'm a danger to the whole team. If I mess up, you will all die. And I don't want that to happen."

"Jaune…"

"I wanted to be a Huntsman because it was cool and awesome and I would make my family proud and… I had no idea of the responsibility, even when I became a team leader. It never occurred to me that we could really die, for real!"

She wordlessly came up to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Jaune, I would like for you to stop having so little faith in yourself. None of us could've wished for a better leader. Who other than you could respect us for who we really are?"

"What do you mean?"

"Look at Nora, at Ren… look at me. We are a lively bunch, aren't we? And yet you treat us like human beings and I'm thankful for that. Take me as an example. It's not overdoing it when you talk about my… reputation. People put me on pedestal all the time. I never got to have an open conversation like I did with you guys." Tears welled up in her eyes, "It's a blessing from the gods themselves, to be in such a wonderful team. So please, don't ever talk so lowly about yourself. Don't run from us. Please."

"Pyrrha…" he took her hand, "I'm not running anywhere. I'm tired of being weak and, frankly, I'm tired of being the useless bystander whenever things get rough. I want to get stronger, not just for us, but to avenge all those poor people on that island. Should I refuse to take that role, who will ever stop whatever those things were? I may not be a huntsman, but I am a human being. I want to make something useful out of my life, for once. And I want to do it with you guys."

It was on that day that Pyrrha Nikos began developing her emotions for Jaune. She offered sparring sessions with her whenever he desired, as a substitute for his nightly visits to the gym, a proposal he gladly accepted. It was one more reason to be happy about.

WEEEEELCOMEEEE!

TO THE START

OF VOLUME 3!

We kick off this Volume with heavy plot straight from the first chapter! I'm surprised myself with the speed with which I was able to write this chapter AND the rewrites (chapter 3, 4 and 5). Guess I had a stroke of creativity or something…

With the first chapter of this Volume we begin with the slow unfolding of all three subplots, none of which have Braylon as the main character. I figured that people might eventually get tired of seeing him all the time, so I decided to make some story progression through other characters. This is, after all, the main point of this Volume: character development (or an attempt at it). The only problem I have now is how to write future chapters. Should I focus on one subplot, solve it, then move on to the next, or should I write small portions per subplot in each chapter and let them unfold as the story goes on? Guess I'll find out with the next chapter.