Maul's New Empire

by Paco-El-Taco

Roman Torchwick and Neopolitan, once the rulers of the criminal underworld, are now second to their new boss, Maul. Despite the demotion, both are content with their positions. But when a mysterious woman with a knack for fire demands the use of his empire, the Sith warrior must balance achieving his true agenda and dealing with this new threat.

7. The Fire and the Beast

Junior was the manager and owner of the appropriately named establishment, "Junior's Club". Packed right in the center of downtown Vale, business never stagnated for even a day. Music and beats always boomed off the walls, disco lights shone across the semi-dark club to encourage the eager patrons on the massive, constantly packed dancefloor, and the tap never ran dry.

Technically, anybody was a welcome customer as long as they weren't freeloaders and didn't break anything. Let them come.

However, most, if not all the patrons, were related to or a part of the criminal underworld in some way, shape, or form. Junior had plenty of decently capable men for extra manpower available for hire, but most of the time people with questionable intentions gravitated towards his club for the valuable information he possessed.

Junior had a decent network of eyes and ears all throughout Vale, enough to spot something of importance to a potential customer. In exchange for a moderate sum of lien, depending on the knowledge he held or how much the customer was asking for, his pocket would be stuffed for the night and the other party would have what they so eagerly sought.

Most of the time, said customers were less reputable criminals, such as common gangsters or thugs looking for information on their foes or heists of interest; mundane and simple things like that.

Once in a blue moon, though, he'd find himself bartering with someone of greater power and influence over the underworld. Such as the man sitting across the bar before him.

In fact, this man was one of the most notorious crime lords of Vale since Roman Torchwick successfully established an entire collective syndicate in the kingdom close to a year ago. This man, from what he recalled, led a well-known crime family before they were assimilated into the new syndicate.

He was a middle-aged burly man, presenting himself in a fashionable, tailored, classic-styled sky-blue suit and pants with a black tie over a white shirt, yet his appearance and demeanor were not flamboyant like his boss, but more reserved. His skin complexity was a bit tanned, likely originating from the eastern region of Mistral. His face was sharp and pointed, his jet-black goatee and thick hair were groomed with care, and right now his small diamond eyes were drilling into Junior's with restrained annoyance.

"I'm offering you more than enough lien for what I am asking," the man said calmly with an eastern accent, emphasized with a sharp articulation of his speech. He gripped a mug in one hand while pointing at Junior with the other, "Now it is your turn to give me something I want."

For his part, Junior sighed irritably while rubbing his forehead. "Look, Zarif," he scowled, "I have ears on the ground, but I'm not running some spy network! I don't know who this Cinder is or what connections she has!" And he was telling the honest truth that time!

Sure, the higher political standing his clients had in the criminal underworld, the more inclined he was to milk as much cash as he could from them, teasing them with nuggets of knowledge that was valuable to them, even if they didn't ask for it in the first place—and he would have done the same with Zarif.

But while he knew a lot of things that went on, he wasn't fucking omnipotent; he couldn't know everything that went on within Vale, let alone the whereabouts of some no-name lady.

Zarif furrowed his brow and waved off his response. "You are the greatest source of intel in all of Vale, are you not? My employer demands results, not excuses," he stated pointedly.

Oh, great. Just what he needed in the middle of the night: some stubborn aristocrat-esque mobster making demands of him, the manager. Prick.

"Oh, oh, your 'employer' demands it, huh?" Junior's shook his arms in the air and glared back, "Well if this is so important, then why doesn't the big man himself come down and settle his business?"

"My employer is a very busy man," Zarif replied coolly, fixing a furrowed irate glare on his face, "he hasn't the time for menial labors such as this. Especially considering," the crime lord rotated his hand in the air with a look of deliberation, "...how some supposedly revered services are apparently lacking."

Junior replied with a growl, "Here's an idea, bub," he jabbed a finger behind Zarif towards the main doors, "go find someone else who can do your job instead of patronizing me about it."

Zarif released a small, frustrated sigh before pulling out his scroll and thumbing through it. Junior, equally miffed, shook his head one last time before turning back to the vast assortment of shelved liquor. He could go for something strong, he figured. Something to help vent the stress of work.

Not long after the search for a bottle to suit his fancy began, he heard multiple sets of footsteps approach the bar before a few stools were pulled out. A quiet vexed huff left his lips. He had just got done dealing with the last critical customer. He wasn't in the mood to go another round; still, business was business, and if he didn't do any business with people that he didn't like or because he was just too tired to help, his club would have sunk in an ocean of debt and loans a long time ago.

Steeling himself, he turned around to greet the group professionally, and was met with six Faunus of varying ages. Half of them took seats while the others stood close behind. Although they wore unassuming civilian clothing, Junior recognized the familiar dirty looks sent his way, how each move, small or large, was made with great reluctance, because he knew that they didn't want to conduct business with him, a human; let alone, beg one for something.

White Fang.

They could disguise themselves all they want; Junior's done enough business with more than a few Faunus to tell who part of the White Fang was simply by how they looked at him. He was no lover of the White Fang—aside from the obvious racial tensions, most of them were straight up jackasses from his experience; still, he'd keep his thoughts to himself and give them what they wanted with enough lien and a good behavior.

"May I help you?" He offered neutrally.

The center-seated one, a man with antlers atop his head, gave Junior a long stoic frown before reaching into his back pocket. "We've heard you've got a knack for knowing things," he dropped a pouch full of lien onto the counter but did not release it. "If you're willing to part with some of that knowledge, this exchange will be beneficial for both of us."

Junior hummed pleasantly. "Well, of course. I'm sure you'll find that my services aren't lacking," he shot with a vexed look at a certain customer three stools down, getting a loud scoff in return. He ignored the puzzled and impatient looks from the group before him as he got down to business, "Alright. What do ya wanna know?"

The deer-Faunus leaned forward as he spoke, "Things in the underworld were going as smooth as could be for a while now, until Torchwick just up and pulled the plug on his business. What can you tell us about that?"

Junior grunted in agreement. Indeed, what had happened? It was as the deer said, the notorious crime lord's business was prospering until a little less than two weeks ago, when all the trades just mysteriously stopped. He didn't know the cause, but he knew some things about it that he was willing to share.

"Can't say I know for certain just why Roman did this, but I do know some of what's happened. Roman's put a solid hold on all weapon shipments and stocks for a few days and had 'em relocated in his warehouses and caches in the city. He's reopened his market and prices hadn't changed much, but stocks are limited. As far as I know, nothing's hit him so he should be in the clear. I do have some sources suspecting that Atlas is on his tail, so he's been laying low and freezing the market for a bit. But those are just hunches, so," Junior shrugged, "eh."

The Faunus shared silent looks with each other. "So, it's true, then?" Questioned a large bull man standing back, speaking up with a hint of glee. "We are getting stocked up?"

"It would look that way, friend," regarded the deer, putting a hand to his chin and looking down in thought.

The wolf-girl sitting to his left groaned irritably. "So, what, we just blew a whole wad of lien for shit we already knew?"

"You can hardly blame me, Sasha," the man countered evenly, "we only had the word of that woman to go off of with no confirmations, and I trust that bitch as far as an amputee can kick."

"Heh."

Well, as interesting as their conversation sounded...

Junior coughed loudly.

"Ahem, speaking of the lien..." he trailed, nodding to the pouch still held on by the deer-Faunus.

The man huffed and rolled his eyes before shoving it across the counter into Junior's greedy hands, snatching it up and shaking it to judge its weight. With a satisfied nod, he pocketed it in his vest and waved over the bartender to take their orders while he resumed his search for the perfect booze, idly and shamelessly eavesdropping the Faunus' chatter.

"Huh, so that lady really did manage to cut a deal with Roman? Wonder what she offered him to relinquish all o' that Dust n' weaponry."

"Pfft. Doubt it. She probably strong-armed him, same with Adam."

"Speaking of Adam, you think he'll get along fine with Torchwick? I dunno if he's a Faunus hater or not, but I'm pretty sure he's a right prick."

"Shouldn't be too bad. We've been purchasing a lot of equipment over the months from him; heck, you could even say that we're his number one customer. Roman's syndicate and the White Fang already have good relations, so I don't see a reason for things going south if we're all getting something out of this."

"Maybe. Adam hasn't been the same since that Belladona girl fled. Been more volatile as of late."

"Yeah, he's had a rough month. First that Cinder bitch kills half our guys before forcing him under, and now he has to deal with all this."

Junior's sensitive ears picked up that interesting little nugget of knowledge, and, with a cursory glance to Zarim, it appeared he did too. The crime lord had dropped all his activities and stared at the unaware group as if they held his salvation in their hands. Now much more interested in this new development, Junior turned to face them and grabbed a bottle at random.

Should be interesting to see how this unfolds.

Zarif audibly cleared his throat. "Excuse me," he announced politely, interrupting the Faunus' chat and causing them to shoot cynical and dirty looks at him. He continued unhindered with the same smooth professionalism and charm as a seasoned politician, "Pardon me, but I believe I overheard you speaking about a woman named Cinder? This wouldn't happen to be a Cinder Fall, would it?"

"What's it to you, huh?" The wolf-girl snarled, growling with her long and sharp fangs on full display. The others shared their compatriot's sentiment if those glares were anything to go by.

To the man's credit, he did not falter and instead held his hands up peacefully. "I understand nothing in this world comes free, which is why I am willing to part with a small fortune in exchange for only having a few questions—"

"We don't care what you want or what you've got," the wolf snapped, "don't butt in on our conversation!"

"But I-"

"Do we need to make this anymore clear?" The three already standing took a few threatening steps towards Zarim. Junior thought he was about to have to call in some of the guards to break up an inevitable fight, but fortunately for both him and Zarim, the latter had enough sense to back down, albeit with a disappointed sigh.

"Very well." Junior quirked a brow. He was just going to leave it at that? The crime lord seemed pretty persistent earlier about the whereabouts of this Cinder Fall to simply surrender to a few uncooperative Faunus.

Junior watched as Zarim dejectedly exited the stool and began to move to the farthest end of the bar, but not before shooting him a quick glance, flicking his eyes down to the end of the bar twice before moving on.

Junior shook his head and grumbled under his breath. Of course, he was going to get drawn into this someway, somehow.

Turning back to make sure none of the Faunus caught on to the subtle exchange and confirming that they were too preoccupied with ordering drinks and chatting the night away, he made his way over to the far corner of the bar.

"Alright, what do you want from me?" Junior asked bluntly as he leaned against the bar. Zarim was staring at the group, looking at them like an odd jigsaw puzzle so close to completion.

"I wasn't lying when I said I would forfeit a portion of my wealth for their knowledge," the crime lord spoke cryptically, reaching a hand into his suit for something. A few seconds later, he pulled out some thick slab of sorts that Junior didn't realize what exactly it was until the foreign man lightly slammed it on the counter to accentuate his point.

Lien—like, a shit load of lien. He'd need to count it, but giving a rough estimate by the mass of the stack and the large numbers on the face amount, the total would be more than enough to take care of all the bills for operating the club for a few months at least. Junior's eyes must have bugged out of his head, because, well...this much cash for such a little tidbit? "Whoever gets that fortune, however," rattled Zarim, looking at him with a subtle yet smug glint in his eyes, the corners of his lips tugging upward ever so slightly, "is entirely dependent on the one who helps me achieve my goal."

"Geez, uh, I..." Junior stared at the lump in stunned silence for a few more seconds before shaking away his stupor. "Zarim, I already told you, I don't know shit about this woman." And honestly? Now he was depressed, because as much as he really wished that he now knew anything about this woman, he didn't; therefore, wouldn't be able to treat himself luxuriously for the next few months.

The crime lord shook his head and clarified, "That doesn't matter anymore. What does matter is that they," a subtle head-tilt was motioned toward the Faunus that were now cheering themselves and indulging in a round of drinks, "do. They will relinquish everything they know one way or another. All you have to do is help me with that."

Junior frowned and squinted his eyes skeptically. Judging from Zarif's diction and tone, he couldn't help but get the feeling this was all going to end in a big brawl with a lot of broken furniture and valuables, something that was a big "no-no" in Junior's Club; still, that was a lot of lien that would cover those charges and then some...

After a long moment of silence with an unfaltering stare between the two, Junior hesitantly questioned, "What would you have me do?"

Zarim seemed pleased as he nodded. He retrieved his scroll and started thumbing through it while informing Junior, "Simple. Just turn a blind eye to the events that will unfold."

Junior crocked a brow and crossed his arms. "What do you mean?"

"Those people," he jerked his head toward the Faunus, "I tried giving them a fair chance, but they leave me with no other choice. I'll have a small entourage 'collect' them once they leave to be taken elsewhere to cough up everything they know."

Junior grunted. "Torture, then." Well, it wouldn't have been the first time he threw some random shmucks under the bus.

"That's not what I said. But, considering the man that will want to speak with them..." Zarif trailed off and paused, eyes wandering blankly with a small frown on a face crested in deep, unreadable thoughts. His nostrils inhaled sharply, quickly discarding his trance and refocusing on his scroll. "Well, he's not a pleasant man, let's leave it at that."

"Heh, figured you weren't very much into that sort of thing," Junior said with a hint of an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lip.

"I'll get my hands dirty if need be, but that's not the point," Zarif said before pocketing his scroll. Resting an arm on the counter, he leaned closer. "Listen," he cautioned above a whisper, "At this time of night in this part of the city, a kidnapping wouldn't be out of the blue nor warrant too much attention. But I'm not just asking for you to ignore this happening in your territory, I'm asking you to forget this completely. If the White Fang demand answers, tell them the last you saw of them was through those doors and nothing more."

Junior hummed deeply. The White Fang was a force he would rather not have to deal with anytime at all, and they were already a bunch of angry vengeful bastards. At the same time, he was confident he could smooth talk his way out of the situation if it would ever arise; besides, all that lien just for keeping his lips shut? He'd do it a dozen times over in a heartbeat if given the opportunity.

"Fine. My lips are sealed," Junior motioned a closing zipper on his lips, "won't hear or see a thing."

"Good," Zarif said and sagged back in his seat, "Your end is done now. All that's left for my end is the wait."

Junior grunted, "Then we're done here." He turned and moved away from both him and the Faunus to his own secluded area of the bar before pouring himself a drink.

As he topped off his mug, he took one last glance at the Faunus. He almost pitied those poor fools, knowing that they most likely wouldn't live to see the sunlight again. Especially considering Zarif's mention of the man, brief and skimmed over as it was, but that was enough to paint the picture in his head. Some cruel and brutal bastard.

Perhaps he would have felt a little bad for sending them to their deaths and, perhaps, excruciating torture; on Zarif's orders, sure, but he played a part. Nevertheless, he flayed away any whisks of sympathy he had with a chug of his drink. After all, things like these weren't too uncommon in the business of the criminal underworld, and you only had yourself to blame for not preparing for the consequences. It was on them for being so naïve, so vulnerable.

It was on them for not even thinking that, deep in the criminal underworld, there were some men worse than them, worse than Roman, worse than the Grimm.

And sometimes, those men were more akin to a demon than man.

---

Two weeks.

That's how long it took to find a lead on Cinder Fall, and Maul firmly grasped it like a death grip around a throat. She would have contacted Roman again or eventually shown up unknowingly straight into his maw, but this was something that could not wait.

Cinder Fall... that mysterious woman was already an unknown variable on his playfield the moment she intruded into his schemes, but he could have never known how much of a liability that single pawn could be. Not only were her plans a very possible threat to his empire and everything he had built, but she also brought an entirely new factor to Remnant long thought dead in the galaxy.

Magic.

Cinder was a practitioner of magicks, of the dark arts long believed vanished from the face of the galaxy. In Roman's duel with her, Maul could see and hear everything she did, and although he wasn't familiar with her set of mystical powers, he still recognized the tell-tale signs of magicks immediately. The bloody rituals of the Nightsisters wouldn't soon be forgotten to him, deeply ingraining nearly all signs of magic into his mind at an early age. So, even if he wasn't there himself to detect and measure her signature, he knew without a doubt of her heritage to magic as a witch.

The implications and possibilities of what that could mean plagued the dark warrior's mind with unanswerable questions for many sleepless nights. Who was she really? Where did she come from? Who taught her? Were there others like her? What was the extent of her power? Why had she remained hidden until recently? What did she really have planned for Vale?

That last question was the most concerning. A simple terrorist group or an ambitious heist could be dealt with, swept aside under the rug and forgotten. But brining a witch into the fold or even a possible secret society full of them? Remnant was odd, but even the populous deemed magic as nothing more than fairy tales and legend. Just what had he stumbled upon?

It didn't take long for him to consider a possible connection between Cinder and his vision from weeks prior. The timing between the two incidents was too close for his liking. Was she the drainer? The one that the Force vaguely warned him about, the one who could potentially become a harbinger of havoc and doom on Remnant?

Or maybe he was just connecting dots that weren't there.

Maul loathed to admit that he might have inherited his old Master's paranoia—even more so to admit that it saved him on a few occasions. So, he couldn't just let that connection go and pretend it didn't exist. It even made him reconsider her goal for Beacon Academy.

Before, he dismissed the notion that she was after the Sith relic entirely, but now? He didn't know, and it frustrated him greatly.

He began to realize that he was swimming in unknown waters, waters he thought he had conquered along with all its "fish" serving his whims whether they knew it or not. But every ocean has its trench in the darkest depths, blanketed in an umbra that conceals the other, much larger and more menacing fish from naked sight. Maul's position as Remnant's shadow-ruler was contested.

He wasn't afraid; he was one of the most powerful and skilled beings in the galaxy, and he wasn't about to die to some nameless witches on a forgotten planet in the Unknown Regions of the galaxy. But he was no fool. He couldn't fight or defend himself and his empire if he didn't even know what he might be up against.

So, Maul would find Cinder and pry everything she knew out of her, digging his talons through her head and leaving her a broken shell if he had to. Perhaps her knowledge would prove fruitful. Perhaps there was something more to gain; knowledge and power to name a few, and witches could be powerful assets...

Or maybe he would be contending with a new foe. A cult, maybe, or some secret organization. If they were a threat to him and everything he worked for, stood in direct opposition to him and wrestled with his goals, then he would massacre them. He came too far now to be thwarted by witches, and he wouldn't hesitate to cut them down if need be.

But of course, he couldn't even begin to plot for either course of action if he didn't have Cinder.

And so, the renegade Sith spent many tireless nights in Vale, prowling around as a patient predator for the moment to pounce on the first opportunity that presented itself; an opportunity that came in the form of pure luck.

When he received the call from Roman detailing one of his higher-ranking underling coming across a group of White Fang operatives in Junior's Club that had ties to his target, he dispatched a squad to bring them to him.

Maul arranged a special place just for him and his "guests". An old underground cellar out of sight—windowless, empty, and locked, with the only lights emanating from old dim bulbs that barely sustained a yellowish glow in the dust-ridden air. The building holding the cellar was old, abandoned, and held no more use to the public.

A forgettable place for a forgettable end.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!"

And of course, the forgettable guests themselves.

Roughly chained side-by-side to the pipes on the wall facing him were the Faunus, bruised and bloodied horribly by his men, some so much to the point that they were able to stand only because of the bonds securing them. The wolf at the end who shouted at him had been a feisty one, struggling and rattling her chains relentlessly no matter how spent she was. It was almost admirable how she kept pushing and refused to back down, even when his men had batted her a second time to finally get her tied up.

Almost.

Now it was just him and the Faunus. The others looked at him with a mix of fear, anger, and uncertainty, but none matched the amusing rebellious nature as the wolf. But it didn't matter what any of them thought or how strong they believed they were; they had something he wanted and that's all that mattered.

Truthfully, he could just draw everything he needed from their minds, but with the uncertain amount of alcohol in their systems combined with their injuries and blood loss, there was a risk of breaking their minds if he just tore through them before he got what he needed. Plus, extracting necessary information from them the old-and-true method would relieve some stress that built up over the weeks.

His hooded form took slow deliberate steps towards the wolf girl until he was just a few feet in front of her. Yet she showed no fear, narrowing her eyes up at him and growling viscously like the animal she was. It was amusing, actually; seeing this girl whittled down to nothing and still holding on to some semblance of bravery. Except there was a fine line between bravery and stupidity, and she was the biggest fool of the group.

Maul decided to test her "bravery".

"The White Fang working for Cinder Fall, a human?" He prodded derisively with a faux curiosity "I thought your kind detested any form of reliance on humanity?"

Maul didn't stop the sinister smile forming across his face when the wolf somehow managed to look even more furious before blowing up on him. "Shut up, you damn prick!" She spat heatedly, "I'm not talking to some fucking no-name lapdog! If you had any balls, you'd—"

"Sasha!" The deer adjacent to her urged. He said nothing more, but his stern yet desperate expression pleaded with her to hold her tongue. Though she was still bubbling with anger, she relented and stopped shaking against her restraints, resigning herself to glaring silently at their interrogator—a glare that wavered slightly when he chuckled humorously.

She was a stupid one indeed. Bold, but stupid. The wolf would serve as an excellent example.

"Okay, look," the deer spoke up carefully, as if he would set off a land mine with one wrong word. Maul gazed at him with mild curiosity as he continued, "I don't know who you guys are or what you want with us, but this is not a smart move. If you kill us, the White Fang will retaliate; we're a tight-knit family that doesn't tolerate this sort of thing, and to stack the odds against you even more, I'll let you in on a secret," he craned his head as close as he could, "Now the White Fang is partnered with Roman Torchwick. Our combined forces will be enough to reshape Vale as we see fit, and it's more than enough firepower to crush things like this from happening to our own again."

Oh, Force, this naïve boy didn't really think he was being threatening to him, was he? That he could intimidate him into compliance with "facts" that held no truth? How... adorable. Still, the dark warrior humored him, "Oh?"

The deer, their leader most likely, nodded curtly. He controlled his emotions well, but Maul could spot the faint glint in his eyes and sense it all the same. It was hope, hope of getting out of that dark cellar and live another day, a hope that ignored the doubt of his own bluff. "Let us go now with compensation and never attack us or any of the White Fang again, and I promise we will not come after you so long as you stick to your end."

Maul now stood fully in front of him and stared at him, shadowed face with unreadable sulfuric eyes to grey and steeled ones. There was a pregnant silence between them all for a time, and as each second crawled by, he could sense his hope and confidence waning, dying out like a small candlelight.

The Son of Dathomir savored it. All of it. The silent panic creeping into the air, the uncertainty radiating from them all, the confusion and the fear. It was always such a rush provoking fear from others, twisting that fear, being that fear. And now, he would drive that fear to get the answers he needed.

A drawn-out sigh from Maul pierced the silence, "Ah, yes. Quite the splendid alliance between you two. But I do not approve of it."

The deer furrowed his brows quizzically as the others looked at each other, puzzled. "What are you talking about?"

"I'll let you in on a secret," he mirrored, leaning in closer, "Everything the White Fang has ever purchased from any supplier in Vale, from smugglers to the crime lords, came from me. It all belongs to me," Maul placed a fist on his chest, "and all of them answer to me, not to Roman and certainly not to Cinder.

"And I'm not in the business of handing out donations," Maul pulled away, leveling a stony glare at the stunned deer, "your White Fang will get nothing from me for free, nor will any of you ever have the opportunity to strike me down. Cinder was foolish enough to think that she could force my subordinate into compliance and take control of my empire, and she will soon pay the price. And you, little fawn, are a fool for believing you could threaten me and bargain your freedom. The White Fang will not come to save you. Now, if you want to see the sun again, tell me everything you know about Cinder, including where I can find her."

As Maul spoke, his implications took root in the deer as abject suspense dawned his face. "No... no, you're bluffing," the boy denied with a shake of his head. "Roman Torchwick controls the underworld, everybody knows that!"

"Yet you doubt yourself," the dark warrior countered coolly, "here you are, brought before me under my command."

"Oh, for Dust's sake, that has got to be the biggest load of bullshit I've heard all year!" Maul turned and narrowed his gaze at wolf who glowered at him harshly with a grating derogative tone. She then lambasted her leader, "C'mon, dude, you don't actually buy what this creep is selling, do you?"

"Sasha, don—"

"Really, this whole, 'secret leader of the underworld' shtick? How far up your ass did you have to reach to pull that one out, buddy?"

"Sasha, stop—!"

"And even if I did consider it for just a bit, how come absolutely nobody knows you or goes to you for deals and shit? It's all Roman and the other suits who run things."

"Sasha!"

"It's pretty obvious, guys. This dude's as delusional as a sack of—HLLGKK!"

"W-what—Sasha!?" The alarmed deer shouted at the horrific sight of his wolf compatriot choking and gagging uncontrollably on some unknown force, fervently thrashing in her binds in a desperate attempt to break free. Her cocky exterior had quickly given away to a wild panicked look like an attacked animal, her distressed eyes darting around confusedly and head struggling against an overwhelming pressure on her throat.

"Oy! What the fuck's happenin' to 'er!?" One of the others shouted hysterically.

"S-she's choking!"

"On what!?"

"I don't know!"

The color had left her face, and each second that ticked past was replaced by a sick shade of purple. Paralyzed with crippling shock, the imprisoned Faunus could only either stammer uncontrollably or watch in terror of the life being strangled from their compatriot. Until, by chance, the deer noticed the wolf's horrified eyes flickering back to their interrogator. His crippling haze was shattered and replaced with his former rationality, and he swiveled his head to the dark man.

But his horrid shock only peaked even higher to see the man focused intently on Sasha, hand outstretched before him with his fingers curled tightly as if gripping some invisible yet tangible object. He quickly realized what was happening and shouted frantically, "W-what are you doing!?"

The renegade Sith Lord ignored him, keeping his fiercely steeled glare locked onto the wolf. "I found your little act of rebellion amusing at first," he growled irritably, "but now you are grating my nerves." He relaxed his fingers and released his hold on her throat.

Her head dropped and the wolf coughed and hacked violently, shuddering weakly after gulping a sharp intake of oxygen; however, she was given no time to completely recover her breathing rate as Maul marched over and roughly cupped her chin and forced her head up to him.

A cracked gasp escaped her throat, and as her eyes were forced to lock into that wicked demon's own, her pupils dilated as the fiend crept his face closer until it was mere inches from her own, until she could taste his breath, until she could see just what was behind the hood. The reds and blacks of his face, the horns and those unnatural eyes, all conjoined into a savage apparition of a hellish man right in front of her face.

"There are many advantages to ruling from the shadows," the dark warrior chastised with a scowl, "while all the attention is focused elsewhere, nobody is the wiser as to what I do, or even of my existence. I can do whatever I please, and nobody would ever know who did it. For example, killing you, right now," a dark smile crept across his face, "nobody would come and you would be forgotten and left to rot in this cellar for the rats to feast upon."

The wolf stared at him wide-eyed with despair, struggling to jerk her head out of his steel grip, but his hand would not budge. Maul received no verbal response; it appeared that she wasn't as brave as her bold statements suggested. How disappointing.

Snorting, Maul harshly withdrew his hand and stepped back. "Oh, come now, you're not quivering now after the bold show you put on, are you?" He shook his head and sighed in mock disappointment, "Hmph. All bark, no bite, I suppose."

"Oy! Jus'... jus' leave 'er be, man! You've already made your point! Jus' stop, please!" One of them pleaded desperately.

The wolf shrunk in on herself as Maul stepped over to the one that spoke up, looking back at the deer as he did so. "Now you are fully aware of your situation..." he declared and stopped in front of his target.

"Wait, w-what are you doin'?" The Faunus asked anxiously

"And of my power." Maul turned and, reaching out with the Force, gripped his spinal cord in the square of his back.

"W-what the hell?"

And then he slowly began clenching his fingers.

"Gaaaauugh!" The Faunus cried out and jerked up from the sudden pressure spike in his back.

The deer angled his head, horrifically perturbed. "Derek, what the hell is he doing to you!?"

The Faunus struggled greatly to form an anguished reply, "Ngh-my—my back's getting' fuckin' crushed!"

Maul curled his fingers tighter, eliciting another cry. This broke the shock of the group as they all broke out in a cacophony of pleas and begging.

"Please, please, just stop!"

"He didn't do anything; he doesn't deserve this!"

"What do you want!? We'll give it to you!"

Maul kept his eyes on his twitching target and reminded them coolly among the chaos, "I'm hearing a lot of talk not about Cinder." He curled his fingers even further, causing an anguished squeal to erupt from the Faunus.

"Okay, okay!" The deer shouted, dismayed, "just let him go and we'll start talking!"

Maul grunted, "That's not how this works, fawn. You tell me what I want to know, then I'll stop."

"But—but you'll break his spine for Dust's sake," the deer exclaimed harrowingly, "there's no time for this!"

Maul exhaled a stale sigh, "How many times do I need to reiterate this, fawn? I make the rules, you obey them. And if you don't, you are punished, like so."

Maul's fingers clenched into a fist.

An audible crack cut the air like a strike of thunder, halting all frantic chatter at once. Only a small fraction of a second was perfectly silent. Silence, until an ineffably agonized bloodcurdling scream reverberated off the walls—past them, even, into the empty night sky, yet not a soul but them heard it all.

By the time his wail died down to a whimper, he was weakly coughing up blood and was on the verge of unconsciousness. The Faunus all stared hauntingly at their half-dead friend, maintaining the dreary silence of a chaotic aftermath.

"Now," the dark warrior broke the silence nonchalantly, crossing his arms behind his back and turning to the deer, "you just might have enough time to take your friend to a hospital if you tell me everything right now; otherwise, I think I'll move on with the bull's ribcage." Before said bull could react, Maul snaked a hand out and applied a threatening pressure to his ribs, and like a snake constricting the life out of its prey, slowly curled his fingers to form a fist.

"WAIT! Okay, okay!" The deer practically shrieked over the bull's pained groans, fear and desperation clear on his face, "Cinder—she came to us, w-with two teens and offered us a deal to work with her, but Adam didn't want any of it! But she came back and burned the whole place up—slaughtered almost everyone there! She—she forced him to join her!"

Maul hummed thoughtfully to himself and slightly eased his fingers and his grip on the bull's ribs. So, Adam Taurus experienced the same ordeal as Roman did? Rejecting her offers only for her to come back with a vengeance and force them into compliance. But why didn't she threaten either of them the first time when they refused her?

He motioned for the deer to continue. "Well, go on then," he ordered, "I had better be thoroughly educated on everything you know of Cinder. And don't lie or leave anything out. I will know if you do."

Finally, the deer blabbered on about everything of Cinder. He stammered a lot and didn't always speak coherently, but Maul understood nonetheless and could tell he didn't leave anything else out and was telling the absolute truth. Which, unfortunately, wasn't much that he himself didn't already know or figure. Cinder had promised the White Fang much, to give them aid and support in their fight against humanity.

But Cinder wasn't satisfied with just the White Fang. They thought she had enlisted Roman's aid and "his" control of all criminal elements for her plans. Maul's syndicate was already powerful enough, holding all the Dust, weapons, and other resources anyone could need, but coupled with the ruthless manpower from the White Fang? This only further proved his suspicions that Cinder had massive plans for Beacon and Vale, and perhaps Remnant itself. His prisoners were in the dark about those plans, however.

But that didn't matter, because they knew where Cinder would be. She would be meeting with Adam Taurus in just two days during the night to discuss the allocation of his men and Roman's (his) resources and bringing the two together to work more fluidly. After acquiring the location of their base, hidden deep within Vale's forest, Maul released his grip on the bull and turned to the wall opposite to them.

He strode over to the bags dumped against it, holding their personal belongings, then kneeled down and sifted through them.

"What are you doing?" The deer hesitantly called out. Maul ignored him as he continued digging through the bags until he found what he was looking for. A satisfied hum left his lips as he pulled out a simple sheathed katana. He weighed it, deciding that it would do well enough for the task ahead. A lightsaber would be far too quick. No, he wanted to see for himself just what the witch could do.

"Hey, c'mon, I told you what you wanted to know. Just let us go!" The deer pleaded.

"Hmmm..." Maul placed the blade to rest before rising back up. "I did say I would free you..." he turned back to the deer with an ill glint in his eyes, "... didn't I?"

The deer's eyes widened in horrid realization. He finally understood. "But... but you said..." his voice trailed off, as if his hope and will left with his words and was replaced with a void heart of acceptance. The others quickly caught on.

"Funny how desperation causes others to believe anything so long as it promises some hope," the dark warrior spoke slowly as he strode back, reaching down to his lightsaber attached to the side of his belt. He gripped the hilt parallel to the ground with both hands as he stood in front of the deer, locking eyes with him and activating his weapon.

KKKZZZZHHHTTT!

Twin blades bled a piercing crimson glow, causing the Faunus to flinch away or gasp. But the deer, he only stared at Maul: not with a look of defiance, of fear or anger, or even acceptance, but with a sad, pitiful look. "You... you promised us..." he whispered.

Maul's fierce eyes only mirrored a questioning glint back to him.

"Did I?"

And then he swung.

---

"I really don't like this," muttered Adam Taurus disgruntledly, shaking his head.

There he sat at his table, inside a private tent for strategic purposes in the center of the White Fang base during the dark of night, glaring down at the documents presented before him that detailed the crook Roman's operations and where his men would supposedly fit into those plans.

"Come now, Adam. I worked really hard to gain Roman's aid for your cause, and this is how you thank me?"

And of course, it was all the more frustrating that this alliance was being further forced upon him by the thorn in his side that called itself Cinder.

He looked back up at the woman sitting at the other end of the table, wearing that ever-infuriating smirk with eyes that hid none of her vexatiousness every time she spoke to him. It was just the two of them in there, and if it wasn't for the fact that she could very likely disintegrate him before he could even reach for his weapon, he'd have decapitated her long ago; even now, he struggled to fight that urge every time she spoke down to him like he was a damn child.

Folding her hands together, she rested her chin atop of them and shook her head with a light shrug. "Really, I don't see the issue here. You and Roman will both benefit from working together and the White Fang will become even more powerful with the equipment he'll lend out to you."

"I don't think you understand just how bad of an idea that is," he said with disdain, "we're not common crooks for hire, and my men wouldn't appreciate having to take orders from him."

"It can't be that bad," she gently shook her head with that insufferable faux look of gentleness, like she didn't know how awful it would have been to force those two factions together. She tilted her chin slightly and inquired, "you two do business with each other all the time, don't you? You should already be acquainted with each other."

"Yes, Cinder, business—strictly business," he chided, wrestling his exhausted nerves back down. "Nothing more, nothing less. We give him lien, Roman gives us supplies. That's all there is to it."

"Well, then I suggest that you find a way to get along," Cinder snapped crudely, dropping her hands and mask of a fair business partner in place of a harsh and dour exterior. A small vehement flame flared from her right eye, a fragmented scintilla of the living inferno that she was. Her eyes lidded dangerously as she continued slowly, "can you do that?"

That... that damn bitch...

He didn't notice nor care how hard he was gripping the sides of the table, or the strain on his knuckles for that matter.

Who the hell did she think she was? Turning up and using the White Fang, full of valued lives fighting for a righteous cause, and turning it into her own little army? They weren't Dust-damned mercenaries! He could... he could cut her down, right then and there.

He was fast, faster than her, he knew.

Take her head, and...

And...

Adam released a long and uncomfortable exhale through his nostrils, biting his lip down.

As much as he wished for that to be a reality, he knew, begrudgingly, that wouldn't happen. All he would accomplish was assuring his death and leaving his men leaderless, or worse, whatever Cinder would decide to do after that.

So, after a grueling process of reigning his temper back down, he spat vehemently, "Fine."

The erupting flame vanished into a brief trace of smoke as Cinder's obnoxiously snide smile returned. "Good. Now, let's get back into business, shall we?"

---

While Adam and Cinder were discussing their arrangements within the base, the latter's thief and mercenary stood outside the main perimeter, far enough from the guarding White Fang to have their privacy.

While Mercury leaned against a tree and idly inspected his nails, content to just sit and wait out Cinder's meeting, his partner was a little more anxious. Emerald paced back and forth on the beaten grass ahead of him, arms crossed and head down to the ground in thought, engulfing them in a companionable silence for a time.

At some point, a faint, distant screeching could be heard far above, and Mercury curiously tilted his head up to the sky and noticed a flock of avian Grimm, too high up to identify, heading past them and over the deep woods. After they had passed overhead, he glanced over at Emerald, but his companion either didn't notice them or didn't care as she continued her pacing uninterrupted.

He returned his focus back to his nails and commented aloud, "She'll be alright; you don't need to be by her side everywhere we go." Emerald halted in her tracks and spun to him, an upset and annoyed expression evident on her face. She opened her mouth but stopped, and eventually sighed tiredly before opting to stay rooted in place.

After a moment of Silence, Emerald spoke up, "It feels like it took forever, but with this, we finally secured everything with the White Fang and Roman and can move on."

"Heh, yeah," Mercury agreed, lowering his hand and looking over to his partner, "Y'know, I'll admit, this whole thing was a long pain in the ass, and I wasn't too sure about everything, but I gotta say, I'm actually kinda glad things went this way."

"Wait, really?" Emerald looked at him dubiously.

"Sure! I mean, getting back at Adam was one thing, but Roman? Oh man, I'm not gonna forget the look on his face for a long time," he smiled spryly, picturing the exact moment of that obnoxious jackass getting his teeth kicked in yet again. He closed his eyes and shook his head, muttering, "should've taken a picture."

Emerald rolled her eyes yet chuckled and shook her head mirthfully all the same. "Well, I wouldn't feel too bad about that. You'll still get to rub it in his face every time you see him."

Mercury barked out a chuckle, "Hah! I'm never gonna let him live that down."

His attention briefly perked up again when he heard another faint and echoed roar, looking behind his shoulder into the same direction the avian Grimm flew to. It was far enough to warrant no concern and only piqued his idle curiosity slightly; so, he ignored it and moved on

"Well, we got rid of one overly-complicated issue, now for the next one," he turned back to his partner and emphasized, "how are we going to find the Fall Maiden again?" Wherever she was and whoever was guarding her, he had a strong feeling that getting to her was going to be an even bigger pain in the ass than the last task they dealt with.

Emerald, however, shared none of his reservations about the matter, and replied without skipping a beat, "Cinder's already told us she has a plan; we just have to follow it and we can finish her off."

Mercury rolled his eyes and huffed silently.

Of course, she would think that; she was an obedient pup, never questioning her mistress' decisions or mistakes. He wanted to bring up how her earlier plans were foiled twice and managed to complicate matters further but decided against it due to the inevitability of an argument, something he was in no mood for.

Honestly, he didn't get her loyalty to Cinder. He didn't know how or why she looked up to her, but he knew how Cinder saw them—useful assets, nothing more. He stuck around because he was benefiting from all of it, but he never saw his relationship with either of them through tinted glasses. It was only professional.

One of the many things his father had taught him: People in that line of business would only pay you and keep you around because you were useful, nothing more.

"Sure," he said unconvinced, folding his arms flicking his eyes up to the starry sky.

So many twinkling lights... he would have been mesmerized as a boy. He would have gazed at each distant beacon with awe and wondered what laid beyond the world's skies, beyond their sun and shattered moon. He would have wondered so many things, as a child would, and never lose his curiosity for hours on end.

Now?

He snorted derisively.

He had matured out of his naivety, and even if he hadn't, he had far too many things going on in this world to set his mind adrift like that. Still, once in a while, it was nice to have that mental break, no matter how short.

"Well, maybe things can—eh!?"

"Huh?" Mercury looked to his partner questioningly.

"Cinder...?" She uttered in bewilderment; eyes wide in surprise, twisting her body around to peer into the woods concerningly.

"Cinder? What are you on about?" He questioned confoundedly as he leaned off the tree, taking a few steps toward her.

"It's—it's Cinder..." she trailed off, keeping her eyes fixed in the deep dark of the woods with an apprehensive gait to her figure as if some unspoken abomination laid deep in wait.

Mercury, even more confused, looked to where she was staring, finding nothing but the deep woods. "Uh, I don't hear Cinder, at all," he looked back at Emerald worriedly and hesitated, "are you, uh, okay?"

Was Emerald... hallucinating, maybe? Having a mental break or something? Cinder was still speaking with Taurus at the base, not in the heart of some Dust-forsaken Grimm-infested woods. It was the only logical answer to her sudden break from reality, in his mind, but what could have caused it? It's not like she was just drinking or injecting drugs on the spot, nor did she do either of those anyway. So...?

"Don't you-!" She stopped immediately, face frozen with abject horror.

Mercury's brow rose, shocked.

She was stiff as a statue, her face and posture perfectly reflecting dread—dread, the kind where imminent danger was near.

"Cinder!" She screamed with such panic, fear, and concern at a sheer intensity that Mercury had never heard before. So great and sudden that he seized up at the moment, taken completely by surprise. And just like that, Emerald sprinted madly into the woods as if her life depended on it.

"Wha—huh-hey, wait!" Mercury cried out with alarm, breaking his shock before he, too, took off to catch up with the already fading figure of Emerald, being swallowed whole by the foliage and abyss of the woods.

"Where the hell are you going!?" Mercury swatted a branch out of his way, struggling not to lose his partner's shape as she darted around the packed trees and brush. What the hell was she even doing? Why? She wasn't just running—she was dashing with a purpose, and he could tell her adrenaline was boosting her to her absolute limits of speed.

"I'm coming, Cinder!" She cried out, desperately assuring-well, something. She didn't answer him, didn't look back, didn't slow down—just kept pushing through the maze of the woods.

Mercury huffed, heart beating in his throat. Every shape of the woods blurred past his peripheral, his vision tunneled onto his partner that he couldn't catch up to, who seemed to always be on the brink of losing him in the darkness. He either swatted any offending foliage out of the way or ignored it as he barreled through, dead set on catching up to and stopping Emerald. So intent were the both of them in achieving their goals, they hadn't once stopped to consider just how deep into the woods they dwelled into.

"Huff, huff, dammit, Emerald, just fucking stop!" Yet she never once slowed her desperate dash. How long this game of catch-up was active, Mercury didn't know.

Eventually his partner escaped his vision when she pushed through a wall of thick bramble. Mercury, determined and perhaps a little desperate, growled fiercely as he braced his arms before himself and rammed through the bramble. His momentum pushed and shredded the offending bark, yet his foot got caught on something and abruptly tripped him.

"Gaugh!"

He tumbled unexpectedly face-first into the grassy earth and rolled forward a few yards from his momentum. Fortunately, his Aura took the blow, but that didn't stop the brief bout of pain nor dizziness aching in his head and body.

"Ngghh..." he groaned painfully, wincing as he slowly and wobbly forced himself up onto a knee, like a drunkard trying to remember how to stand and balance after helping himself a bit too much. Eyes knitted shut, he massaged his aching temple with a free hand until his current predicament flooded back to the forefront of his mind and snapped them open. "Emerald!?"

Despite his body's aching protests, he forced himself up onto his legs. Shit, did he lose her? Yet, to his surprise, when he looked back up, he found her standing just a few yards ahead, back turned to him in the center of a small clearing.

He ran over to her before she could run off again and gripped her shoulders, turning her around and forcing her to bear his fury. "What the hell was that!? You just took us who knows how deep in the woods, and for what!?" He glared furiously into her, exhausted, frustrated, and more than a little annoyed; yet, all of his mounting frustrations receded coldly when he noticed Emerald's expression, a face that was shaken up, eyes wide, confused, and shivering with what he could guess was trepidation.

"I-I heard her," she pleaded pathetically, "I swear, I heard her so clearly..." and she shook lightly, perhaps realizing just how crazy she really sounded.

Mercury sighed, exhausted, shutting his eyes. All prior justified rage and frustration froze over. Something was wrong with Emerald. He could see her own confusion and panic at what she had just done and could not fault her for it; it wouldn't be fair and wouldn't solve anything. It wasn't the time or place to blow up on anyone. He didn't know what to do, not then. But they could figure that out later.

Opening his eyes again and loosening his grip on Emerald, he tried speaking calmly, "Look, let's just head back to camp, alright? We can talk about this in private later." She nodded dumbly, and they turned, ready to leave and hopefully not encounter any Grimm; in fact, they were lucky they weren't jumped by any at all to begin with.

"Ah-ah, not yet," tutted a third voice.

Both the thief and assassin spun to the source in shock. Emerald gasped sharply and jerked up while Mercury felt his heart jump to his throat and nerves contrast tightly. Caught off guard, he could only utter under his breath," Wh-what the...?"

At the edge of the clearing stood some nightmarish figure, draped in the same void-material as the encompassing shadows for all but a face, if its savage appearance could loosely be considered that.

Was that... not a Grimm, no... a Faunus? It was so dark and stood there like a monolith extending from the accursed forest, all except for a pair of yellow eyes that burned with the intensity of a dragon, staring at them; no, analyzing them, critically, like they weren't people at all but instead mere objects to be scaled.

The face, emblazoned with aggressively complex red and black streaks and edges, driving its vicious nature further with horns crowned all along its head and face, subtly shifted between the two. "You are Cinder's?" He rumbled in a dark and smooth tone, "A thief and an assassin, together? How, hmm, peculiar."

The Faunus, never straying his eyes away from the duo like a focused predator, walked slowly around the ring of trees before stopping in front of a corpse of some winged-Grimm, already in the process of disintegrating, and yanked out a katana embedded in its neck with a loud and fleshy squish.

How had they not noticed that man or the dead Grimm? In fact, with a closer look, Mercury could make out a mound of even more fresh corpses scattered behind the man. Had they truly been so caught-up in their chase as to be entirely oblivious to the danger surrounding them? The whole thing felt so surreal to him, too much for his liking.

Mercury steeled his nerves as best he could and demanded, "Who the hell are you?"

"He's not White Fang," Emerald whispered to him with mounting concern. Mercury mentally agreed with her statement. The Faunus wore none of the standard White Fang articles or mask and was too far from their base to have been a part of a patrol. Not to mention that not even the most zealous of their ranks literally painted their faces with such alarming patterns in place of the standard Grimm mask.

"I have much to discuss with your master," he said, pacing towards them slowly, "but for now, I am more curious about her students and what they are capable of."

Mercury squared his shoulders and clenched his fists, glaring warily at the stranger. That man knew of Cinder and them; only the White Fang and Roman knew anything about them, and he strongly doubted that man was connected with either of them. Steeling a quick glance to his partner, she seemed to have the same idea given her visible wariness. Turning back to the man, he demanded yet again with all the authority he could muster, "How do you know us?"

The stranger stopped, and to Mercury's mounting ire and disbelief, chuckled almost heartily. "Oh, of course I know about you, Mercury Black." The assassin froze with widening eyes, even as Emerald placed a hand on his back and subtly reached for her weapon with the other, staring uneasily at the stranger. His face grew sadistic, and he spoke with a faux curiosity, "You've gotten yourself so tangled up with Remnant's chaos, crime, and the otherworldly, haven't you? What dear old Marcus would have to say about all this?"

Mercury was taken aback briefly for only a moment, but one that struck him deep and hard. And in an instant, that hindering shock gave way to an encompassing fury, steadily rising in his chest. Emerald tried to grab his arm but he crudely shrugged her off and marched toward the Faunus. "Now that was a big mistake," he seethed with cold fury, "because now I'm gonna kick your fucking teeth in." He stopped at what he deemed an acceptable distance from his opponent, scaling him up and down for what he had.

A simple katana was his only weapon in hand, it seemed; although he, too, possessed a pair of metallic prosthetic legs that could probably do a number. He never thought he would come across another person like him in that sense, let alone in the middle of nowhere in the dead of night, fighting because of a grave insult to him. He raised his hands up and took his pose and stared intently ahead, waiting for the Faunus to make the first move.

Mercury had no idea how that man knew of his father and himself. But that didn't matter. It didn't matter how this man knew about them and his father, because he carelessly—no, joyously prodded at a sensitive nerve like he was some sick beast. Mercury hated his father, for all that he had done and never bothered to do, and that was the only memory he would ever have of the old bastard for the rest of his days.

And that sick Faunus exploited that nerve with callous joy. At that point, him knowing about them was just an excuse for what Mercury would do next.

Yet the Faunus did not take his own stance to initiate the duel, nor did he likewise study Mercury himself; instead, he observed him, looking keenly into his eyes. "Hmmn, that really got a rise out of you," he peered his head a little closer with an inquisitive glint, "now why is that?"

Mercury only growled in response, keeping his gaze locked onto his opponent. The Faunus' brows furrowed with concentrated eyes, staring deep into his being. "The father... you didn't love him," he spoke slowly, ponderingly, "no. You hate him."

Mercury clenched his hands into fists, keeping his mind clear above his bubbling rage. He wouldn't take the bait so easily. "Ahhh, I see," the stranger exhaled calmly, relishing the moment. "He trained you harshly, didn't he?" He let the question hang in the air before chuckling, "Yes, yes he did."

"Shut up and fight me!" Mercury barked furiously. He didn't look back at Emerald who was staring between the two anxiously, hands hovering just over her weapons.

Yet, further fueling his anger, the Faunus only offered a sinister grin. "Despite his training, he still thought you were so weak, didn't he? So weak, that he thought of you as undeserving of your Semblance, and he took it. He said he would return it one day," his smile tugged his lips so much that Mercury could make out his yellowed teeth. "But he didn't, did he?"

Mercury's body trembled with heated breaths. The more that prick moved his lips, the more tempted he was to deliver the harshest roundhouse kick he had ever given anyone. Why? Why was that fucking coward of a man refusing to fight? He himself was almost willing to forgo his original strategy and take the initiative. But of course, he couldn't do that, because his opponent would surely guard himself; yet, he left himself wide open...

"And," he paused, sneering with malicious approval, "You killed him. You finally set yourself free and became a man. But is it really that simple?"

He looked old, somewhat at least, as a middle-aged man. He couldn't have been very fast, even if he did take down those Grimm. Not faster than himself.

"You think yourself a man and a warrior, a free person. Yet haven't you merely exchanged one master for another? Can you call yourself a warrior for lacking the will to guide your own life?" He tilted his chin and frowned considerably, "can you still call yourself a man, boy? Perhaps your father's influence still controls you even after death."

Without any delay, Mercury roared as he fired a powerful wind blast from his feet into the ground, rapidly boosting and flipping himself into the air above the stranger as he extended his leg to drop onto the Faunus' skull. He swung his leg down with enough momentum to shatter concrete—a killing blow in a single strike.

That was until the stranger caught his leg.

There was no struggle, no flickering Aura, no pushback as the stranger's hands gripped his offending appendage absolutely. For the brief quarter of a second that Mercury was suspended in the air, his absolute shock slightly edged away as he started to realize just how vulnerable a position he was caught in.

And the stranger was perfectly aware of the fact.

Mercury's vision blurred as the stranger swiftly swung him around and hurled him through the air and smashed straight through the trunk of a tree with a thundering impact, eliciting a cry of shock and pain before he landed severely and tumbling a few times.

As the tree slammed down into the ground, Mercury grunted and strained as his Aura flickered slightly, expending energy to numb and heal the pain on his spine.

As the stranger looked towards the assassin with the barest of smiles, Emerald stared at her downed partner with a gaping mouth. "Mercury!" She cried out in concern.

"Hmm," the stranger grunted condescendingly before turning to Emerald, "perhaps you will perform better than he did." He reached down for his dropped katana and remained rooted, allowing her to make the first move.

Emerald growled angrily as she pulled out her weapons and aimed at him and fired a barrage of bullets upon the man.

Yet, to her numbing awe and shock, the stranger didn't try to evade the bullets or avoid their damage in some other feasible way; no, he deflected them with his blade, each and every shot.

With just a skinny sword in one hand, his blade and arm were in a constant flurry—not blind or desperate swings with the hopes of blocking the hailstorm of bullet fire raining upon him. No, his blade moved as a raging stream, a living viper, each and every movement calculated and precise to preternatural extremes, so that each bullet clanged and ricocheted harmlessly off his blade.

Even as she kept firmly squeezing her trigger fingers and vary her shots, a cold sweat dropped down her forehead. The stranger wasn't intensely focused on deflecting nor struggling to withstand against her barrage even as she amped the pressure up; no, because not only was he doing so with just a single arm, but he was also looking right at her the whole time, as if this act was second-nature to him!

This was only proven more so when he began walking towards her without relenting in his perfect defense a single bit.

His approach shook her out of her dreadful awe, and she steeled herself as she took a different approach to the fight. Still firing from her left hand, she activated the blade to extend from her right gun. Then, detaching the blade with a chain linking it to her weapon, she swung her arm outward.

The blade and chain quickly undulated towards the Faunus' side, aimed to cut across his torso. Yet, stumping her awe for the umpteenth time, the man again displayed his preternatural precision and reflexes, as he spared only half a glance at the blade approaching faster than many could react quickly enough to counter and shot out his free hand and snatched the blade's base.

Caught only inches away from carving into the Aura around the skin of his side, the man showed no concern or panic as Emerald's eyes widened, flabbergasted. He wasted no time making his move, turning and tugging harshly back against the chain with tremendous power, yanking her off the ground and sending her flying towards the man.

Crying out, she had no time to react as the man reared back and hurled his fist into her gut, making her wheeze and rebound back with great momentum until she crashed and tumbled against the ground before finally rolling to a stop.

She tried to hastily clamber back up in a panic but fell back down as an intense coughing fit took her over, struggling to pump the air back into her lungs that was brutally knocked out. When she finally managed to gasp in a large sum of oxygen, she forced herself back onto her feet, if a bit shakily.

Breathing heavily, she looked past the stranger to see Mercury rising again as well, shaking himself off.

"Oh, no, not like that," the stranger shook his head, moving back from Emerald until he was squarely centered between the two of them in the middle of the clearing. "You will have to do much better than that, children." He lifted his katana up, beckoning them.

Mercury grunted and both narrowed their eyes. The two shared a look and reciprocated a nod. Simultaneously, both blasted off and dashed towards the man, the assassin leaping for a kick strike and the thief rearing her blades back when she got close.

---

Roman Torchwick stifled his cigar and set it aside in an ashtray.

Pulling back from the desk and rubbing his weary eyes, he sagged back into his chair like a sack of potatoes and yawned, not wanting to take another glance at the bloated pile of reports and files on his desk. It was getting late and he had accomplished enough work. He could take the rest of the night off.

Roman leaned his head back and stared blankly at the ceiling of his office, idly reflecting on recent events. The past two weeks had been... unusual, to say the least. His workload had altered significantly to Cinder's liking while his boss was hunting her down, which seemed to be coming to a close. Neo, too, was finishing up her own hunt for the last of the students on Maul's list.

Roman sighed.

Neo was at least doing alright after Maul confronted them, especially considering it was her second near-death encounter from the same man within the year. The first time around, when Maul subjugated them, her pride had been shattered. But it had recovered. She still got to be Roman's loyal right hand, still got to have her fun under their new boss' reign. Hell, even though they had to answer to someone else and received new responsibilities, she seemed to enjoy herself with the rise in power and opportunities it presented. As long as she did her duties accordingly, she would never draw Maul's ire and summon his presence.

But then, he did come to them after the whole Cinder fiasco played out.

For a second time, death had been teased before her, far too close for comfort for either of them. Except that time they were witnesses to her would-be executioner's beastly form. A demon inside and outside. Whereas some cruel men were wolves in sheep's clothing, Maul boldly displayed his status as an apex predator.

Those facial markings, they weren't simple, dull gang tattoos to declare one's affiliation. No, as naïve as it sounded to himself, he had the distinct gut feeling that they were from something more than petty gangs. Which led him to another point.

Maul was... unnatural. Despite how silly it sounded, Roman couldn't think of a term more fitting for his boss. Not just as a person, but his whole presence in and of itself.

Roman was a non-believer; very practical. He didn't believe in such things as the childish beliefs of spirits or the paranormal, ridiculous conspiracies with the kingdoms, or any of that religious nonsense.

Yet even with those firm beliefs, during his tenure as the face of Vale's crime syndicate, he had gradually come to accept that Maul was not part of any natural order on Remnant, good or bad. Perhaps he didn't consciously realize it at first, but Maul's reveal was the final nail in the coffin; the one that truly made the crime lord consider the mystery that was the demon of the underworld.

For the first time in Remnant's chaotic, bloody history, the criminal element, which had forever been in a constant state of violent churning of factions and families to gain control—a brutal cycle of balance, funnily enough—had been quickly and ruthlessly reigned under the iron hand of just a single man, bending it all to his will. A unified world of crime, and most of the populous had no idea; not even the pigs in Atlas were wise to it. Hell, most people working under Maul's empire weren't even aware of his existence or that they were serving in an empire spanning across Remnant at all.

And the select few who were "in-the-know" about him? Fear kept them and their factions in line, and those foolish enough to believe they could take the throne for themselves were swiftly dealt with as a reminder to the others. That alone, the fact that just one man accomplished such a feat, was bizarre enough.

But then there was the fact that Maul wasn't a pre-existing presence in the criminal underworld before his takeover.

Roman had heard about plenty of attempts at domination of the criminal underworld from other, more greedy crime lords; he even saw a few himself in his younger years. They never succeeded, of course, whether because local and international law enforcers snuffed them out or because a coalition of other criminal forces struck back and eliminated them. But if any of them did succeed at domination, it would not have been an unfeasible takeover. Everyone within the criminal underworld would have been aware of a gradual conquest and who was doing it—natural if a bit extreme.

But Maul? Nobody had ever seen or heard of him before. There wasn't a single trace to hint towards his origin that anyone could follow, no matter how hard some had tried. It was like he just suddenly popped into existence one day.

And yet, he led and conquered the criminal underworld in a way no novice could ever have done, even with complete luck on their side. His intimidation, ruthlessness, and cunning were far too grand for him to not have had plenty of experience in the field. Yet, again, nobody knew who he was or where he came from. He just showed up... and began an insurmountable conquest that no one could defy.

His existence was an enigma.

Adding on to that enigma was his unknown origin. After all, what kind of hellish place on Remnant could produce someone like Maul?

Only two features about him vaguely suggested at what kind of home, if any, he came from.

One: his weapon. Even to that day, Roman had no idea what his weapon was or how it operated. Not even Atlas, the technological titan, could produce a weapon so simple yet effective enough to devour an opponent's Aura in just a couple blows. Neo always called it a double-edged laser sword like it was something from some childish comic, and as silly and ridiculous as it sounded, that was essentially what it was. A weapon that no kingdom or village across the globe could replicate.

Then, there were his terrifying features.

Roman resisted a small shudder as he leaned back up.

Again, those facial markings were not the sloppy work of some stupid kid in a gang trying gain respect from his peers, but something more. Roman hadn't thought about it at the time, but it didn't seem like the markings ended at his neck. Was his whole body, barring the prosthetic legs, covered in savage markings?

Savage markings... the only somewhat rational thing the crime lord could think of was tribal tattoos. A hidden cult, perhaps—a savage man from a savage tribe.

Far-fetched, sure, but it was the only real feasible idea he could grasp at. But even if that was the case, that still didn't explain Maul's absurd Semblance.

Before Cinder returned, Roman was only aware of the physical aspects of Maul's Semblance, such as telekinesis. He had an earie knack for foreknowledge, something Roman didn't consciously admit but vaguely acknowledged, but that was as far as it went. Or so he thought, until Maul did... something to his mind.

Roman involuntarily shuddered as his breath hitched, bringing a hand to massage his forehead as a phantom pain reminded him of that oh-so "wonderful" experience.

Maul... tore into his mind, as if some burning, razor-sharp claw plunged its appendage into his brain and ripped something out. That... Roman couldn't begin to explain that one away.

So, yes, Roman the non-believer conceded the truth: Maul was unnatural. He didn't think he was a literal demon from Hell or some vengeful spirit, but Maul was unnatural all the same. Something extraordinary and beyond him that he couldn't fully comprehend.

So, he had absolutely zero doubts that Cinder and her brats would be killed that night. Which, unabashedly, brought a smile to his face. Personal feelings aside, he'd rather answer to Maul than Cinder.

His boss was a prick, but at least he could run the damn syndicate properly. Unless Cinder was intentionally trying to kill him by overworking him with fewer profits.

Roman wouldn't put it past her.

He was hardly assured by her "promise" of a greater future that him and Neo would be a part of.

With her out of the way, things could go back to the way they were. Maybe not "normal," per se, but still. He became content under Maul's rule, he would admit that.

With that final thought, Roman leaned back with a yawn and closed his eyes.

---

Emerald leapt and weaved from the branches of the treetops, simultaneously firing down on their foe with a hail of gun fire.

The Faunus, however, made use of his annoying Semblance again by outstretching his free arm towards a boulder and lifting it in the air with his telekinetic grip, maneuvering it to his side and blocking the bullets.

His head veered to his opposite side as he raised his blade up just in time to block a downward kick from Mercury. The Faunus pushed the blade back as the assassin flipped back and landed before running up and delivering an intense flurry of kicks from his right leg, determined to break past their foe's defense. Yet his blade, likewise a blinding rapid flurry, parried and deflected his strikes every time no matter how fast or strong he struck.

The enemy's attention was balanced efficiently between the two. One arm raised and moving the boulder around to block the thief's shots even as she moved around to try and get a better angle and the other with perfect bladework to keep the assassin's deadly kicks at bay. An unconventional yet insurmountable defense on either side that both tried to find any cracks or weakness in.

Emerald grunted exasperatedly but kept nailing her shots. The boulder managed to absorb them but the peppering strikes were shredding into it and breaking away debris, slowly but surely destroying his makeshift shield.

Mercury and the Faunus noticed this as well, the former smirking and latter grunting. They had their shot, one Mercury made sure to capitalize on.

Quickly switching tactics, he shot his next kick towards the stranger's hand to disarm him. Yet the stranger reacted in time and veered his sword arm back. Too far back. Mercury's smirk grew as his leg, now aimed straight at his face, was primed to fire a pointblank Dust round.

… Only for him to be roundhouse kicked to the side of his head from the blur of motion that was his enemy's own prosthetic leg.

"Gah!" Mercury stumbled back from the dizzying attack. The stranger veered his head to his nearly crumbled boulder and Emerald, and with his hand keeping the rubble afloat, clenched it into a fist and shattered the remains into jagged shrapnel.

He shot his other arm towards Emerald, and as if blasted from a powerful shotgun, the stone debris fired at Emerald.

She gasped and hastily made a massive leap to the farthest branch just as the stone projectiles shredded through the treetop she was just standing on, reducing even the trunk to mere splinters. Barely catching the next branch with her arms and catching her breath, she looked back in wild disbelief at what remained of the treetop, now unrecognizable as if a large Grimm razed the entire top.

All that immense damage and firepower, from stones...

As the thief pulled herself back into the cover of the trees, Mercury fired a wind blast from his legs into the ground, blasting him back and flipping backwards to put distance between him and the Faunus. He began spinning and maneuvering on his hands and feet with acrobatic flexibility—breakdancing, to some, while blasting out a volley of Dust rounds of wind from his legs that began circling around him like his own personal tornado.

The stranger raised an eye at the display and stared curiously. The assassin had amassed a swarm of Dust projectiles before roaring as he kicked one towards him. The man casually jumped out of the way as the projectile exploded into a thick white cloud of steam. His eyes briefly widened before narrowing as the rest of the incoming Dust projectiles whistled toward his direction.

He braced his free arm before himself as the shots blanketed the proximity around him in a cacophony of exploding wind and steam, billowing his robes back from the sudden gusts. His form had been completely enraptured and lost in the broad, suffocating clouds. Neither man could see each other.

Firing another wind blast into the ground, Mercury leapt and twisted over the encompassing foggy mass and landed behind the Faunus. He smirked with vengeance before jumping and striking with a consecutive double-kick to his back—only to pass through nothing. He landed clumsily with bafflement, realizing that the Faunus was not where he once was as he began searching wildly for him.

His question of where the man had gone was answered when an arm burst from the white abyss and clutched his throat.

His eyes bulged and he reflexively gagged upon the ungodly pressure squeezing around his throat while the fog slowly dissipated from their forms. His perpetrator's distinct face and blazing eyes, burning through the fog like a dragon creeping up on him, were the first to materialize in the fog. Mercury tried to pry the offending hand off even as it lifted him off the ground to no avail. The stranger did not relent in his assault as he reared his other arm back and launched a substantial blow to Mercury's abdomen that rocked him back.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

Each blow was more impactful than the last and felt as if his gut was physically caving in despite his Aura's best attempts at absorbing the blows, causing Mercury to wheeze painfully and leaving him unable to defend or counter appropriately.

When the fog finally cleared, Emerald gasped at the sight. With a fierce look, she brought her guns back up and fired on the man's back.

The stranger's head perked up and, reacting quicker than many Huntsmen could, spun around with Mercury still in his grasp and used him as a human shield, who cried out in shock and pain as the bullets bounced off his flickering Aura. Emerald stopped firing immediately with a concerned gasp and look of disbelief.

The Faunus tossed the assassin aside like a sack of pebbles and summoned his katana back into his awaiting grasp, staring up at Emerald. Taking advantage of her exposure and shock, he reared his arm back before hurling the blade forward, rapidly sawing through the air like a wild helicopter blade and swiftly devouring the distance between it and her.

Wide-eyed, Emerald hastily leapt off the branch to the next tree; however, to her mounting dread and panic, she could hear the blade curve its trajectory and tail her like some kind of homing projectile. She looked back, dumbfounded, and couldn't react in time as the blade tore the Aura around her back and knocked her off the tree. She screamed as she fell and came crashing down with a resounding thud as the stranger watched with a pleased look.

"Rrraaaagh!"

The stranger spun around to see Mercury in the air, feet aimed at him as he fired a strong cone of condensed wind. The Faunus braced his arms in front of him as the strong gusts struck, digging his feet in the ground as the winds pushed him back.

Mercury leapt at his foe and threw a punch that was caught. He didn't stop as he broke free and attacked with alternating legs for a blurring flurry of consecutive kicks. He forced the man back as he had to block the strikes or twist his body to avoid them. Both combatants were locked in a heated competition as martial artists, one trying to overpower the other.

The stranger huffed, perhaps annoyed or disappointed as he used his own legs and arms to block the attacks. However, Mercury took the stranger by surprise when he quickly placed both feet together on the ground and blasted forward, tackling the man. Both grunted as they were sent flying before tumbling and rolling across the ground. Mercury had tumbled ahead of the Faunus and was quick to recover as he stood and dashed towards the rising man and swung his leg at him.

The momentum in his leg suddenly halted mere inches from the man's side, held by an intangible force. Surprised, Mercury looked at the stranger to see his opposite hand held out, gripping his appendage telekinetically. "Cunning and innovative," he said approvingly, that dark damnable smile tugging on his lips again, as if all of this was just a game to him. "Perhaps your father taught you well, after all," he mused.

With a roar, he swiftly punched the man across his face.

Some small vengeful and heated satisfaction swelled in him at the fact that he finally landed a blow. His victory was short-lived, however, as to his bafflement, his whole frame froze, struggling against a vice grip trapping him in place like some boa constricting him; he couldn't even get a word out! That was when he noticed the man look back at him. With Mercury's own mixed bag of anger and shock, he didn't love to admit the bit of cold dread bite his heart.

The Faunus scowled, and Mercury could swear that even his eyes burned more furiously. "But not well enough," with his other hand, he shoved an open palm just before his face. Mercury flinched from the strike that didn't come, and for a split-second, in his mixed emotions, wondered confusedly why he hadn't struck yet.

He got his answer. Painfully.

The air around them thundered as an incredibly powerful telekinetic blast like a condensed hurricane fired point blank into his face, as if an enraged Beringel on steroids slammed into him. He careened wildly through air, shouting in bewildered shock and pain until he smashed through the trunk of another tree for a second time.

He came to a harsh crash and tumbled until finally his Aura flickered and dwindled, spent. He groaned as he tried to push himself back up before finally succumbing to his pain and injuries and fell unconscious with a soft thud.

The stranger studied the defeated assassin before furrowing his brows and placing a hand upon his temple confusedly.

Suddenly, Emerald appeared a few yards behind him. Then another. And another. Two more. Three. Six. Eight.

A ring of Emeralds formed around the Faunus, glaring deeply into him. With perfect unison, each pulled out identical copies of their weapons with the blades out. Of course, disguising her presence, the real Emerald stood back at the ring of trees, pulling her guns out and training on the man, glowering and waiting. She would just have to time this right, and she'd have him.

The Faunus looked around the area, eyes searching. Emerald smiled with violent satisfaction at his utter confusion. With a mental command, the illusion-copies of herself simultaneously dashed forward with their blades at the sides and swung. The man reacted, indeed he did.

Just not the way she thought.

Right as her copies appeared to nearly slash into him, he snapped around and stared directly into her. With his own wicked grin that shouted, "found you," he completely ignored the illusions diving through him, keeping his attention solely on her.

Emerald nearly sputtered, utterly baffled. No one, not even her mistress, had ever seen past her illusions like that. And the fact he could do so without much apparent effort with a wicked aura? A man with such a devastating Semblance and skill in combat greater than even their combined might? Her hope was dwindling, exchanged with a cold dread.

Freezing up, she dispelled her illusions and managed to get her fingers to grip the triggers and fire. She didn't know why she was surprised when the man simply held a hand up and caught the bullets in the air, floating harmlessly before him. The wind howled as his blade returned to his other hand's awaiting grasp.

That man, that demon, reared back and threw the blade forward like a spear as it whizzed dead at her. She cried out as she barely jumped out of the way, looking back at the blade that had embedded itself deep into the tree she was just in front of. She gasped as the air roared and forced her attention back, eyes widening as her bullets were all hurled back at her.

She wasn't fast enough the second time as she was peppered by her own bullets, crying out as her Aura flickered and struggled to maintain itself. Emerald was thrown back from the cascading bullet storm against the tree, bracing her arms to defend and lessen the blows as best she could.

When the attack finally ended, she slid down the base of the tree and groaned. She shook her head and groggily forced herself up upon the sound of approaching footsteps. The Faunus strode toward her, eying her critically, perhaps judging her. If that was so, then he didn't seem to think much of her, if his frown was anything to go by.

Emerald clambered for her weapons but hesitated.

She could not defeat this man, if it was even truly a person. Not with Mercury or herself. She needed to get him and run back to the base and warn Cinder. She could beat this monster.

Thinking quickly, she shot the blade from one of her weapons to a branch above her as a grappling hook and yanked herself up. When she was on the branch, she propelled herself off and leapt over that monster, nearly clearing the whole gap of the area. She would not leave Mercury behind.

Yet she did not even make it halfway across as she was caught by a constricting intangible force. She gasped fearfully as she realized her fatal mistake before she was ferociously slammed into the ground. She cried out and struggled futilely as she was dragged back up before being slammed again, and again, and again.

The final slam was accompanied by a deafening shatter as her Aura finally gave away. Intense pain encompassed her, as well as exhaustion and fear. Despite how dizzy she was, she knew another slam would result in a broken body and an excruciating death; yet, to her confusion and elation, she no longer felt the death grip choke her body.

She made a desperate scurry from the small crater around her, even as her limbs burned and screamed at her to stop. She ignored the pain, fear, and doubt swelling within her and followed the small hope in her heart. She trudged forward with her arms, hastily crawling forward from desperation borne of despair.

Her heart stopped upon the sight of twin metallic legs before her, not belonging to Mercury. She shot her head up with a shocked heave to see her tormentor, frowning with a deprecating glint in his eyes. The thief yelped as she clambered the opposite direction along her back, her distressed heart beating up to her throat. Her heart only pounded harder when an overwhelming pressure strangled her throat and jerked her in the air, dangling harrowingly off the ground.

As the stranger held her with an open hand, he shook his head. "Oh, no. You will not leave here," he remarked cruelly, "you will remain here, alive, as long as you still have purpose."

Struggle and thrash as she tried, Emerald could do nothing but claw around her throat like a wounded animal on its last leg. She was trapped in a corner—Mercury was out, no one knew where they were, and she was stuck in the grasp of that monster in the middle of nowhere. Even when she was young and scavenged coin and food, when her mistress saved her and enrolled her in a perilous journey with an unclear destination, even when battling the powerful Fall Maiden, the prospect of death never alluded her so closely.

And now the fear of death obstructed the forefront of her mind, clouding everything else. She thought she had a close encounter with the Fall Maiden, but this time, Cinder was not there to save her. And that man was not a Maiden. He was a monstrosity, a feral Grimm, a demonic abomination—one that sought them out and brutalized them, and they could do nothing to stop his savagery.

"P-please," she pleaded, voice wavering and struggling to speak, "what do you want?"

"What I want, hmm?" The man mocked. He sneered wickedly at her, deriving sick glee from her pain and uncaring for her pleas. Fear, despair, dread, sorrow... a small part of her wondered if the Fall Maiden felt the same way in her final moments.

The force was relinquished, and she was dropped on her knees. Emerald coughed and hacked as she massaged her throat.

"Scream." Emerald stared up in trepidation. The man looked back with a dark expression, "Scream for your master." He raised up a hand and gently flexed his fingers inward.

A spike of pressure seized her spinal cord.

---

Cinder strode through the exit of the camp with a confident gait, a small smile adorning her face.

The meeting with Adam Taurus had gone rather well. She had to subtly remind him of his place, but no other issues had arisen, and the White Fang would soon be ready to meld with Roman's syndicate when the time came. Speaking of Torchwick, she ought to pay him a visit soon. He seemed plenty whipped into shape as he hadn't done anything to defy her or her plans, but still; couldn't hurt to make sure Roman remembers which of them is the master.

With the meeting finished, the first phase was complete. She could move on to the next step. Beacon Academy's next semester was just around the corner, and the three of them were already in the system as upcoming students. They would need a fourth, but an associate of Roman's could fill that gap. A small, mute girl, but just as capable as a professional Huntsman.

For now, though, she would contact her master to report of her success after she collected Emerald and Mercury.

But they weren't where she last left them.

Cinder came to a stop, brows knitted together as she glanced around the vicinity. No sign of them anywhere.

She sighed, frustration swelling within her. "Emerald? Mercury?" She called out, yet no response was reciprocated. She groaned with an irritated scowl

She was in no mood for a goose chase, especially in the middle of the night in the middle of a forest. She thought the order to "stay put and wait for me to return" was made clear; apparently, she wasn't explicit enough.

Cinder frowned and narrowed her eyes.

Then again, it wasn't like them to disobey her orders, especially one so simple. Doubly so for Emerald, the girl devoted to her and at her beck and call. And Mercury, although he showed frustration and hesitation since their initial string of failures, had remained loyal to her orders as well. No, it was not like either of them to simply wander away from boredom or for something inconsequential.

Cinder's eyes steeled at the thought of Adam's men pulling some stunt against them, but she quickly dismissed that notion. Adam could be bold, heated, and sometimes rash, but not stupid. At least, not to the point where he would risk the entire White Fang sector operating in Vale to attack Cinder's group. Plus, she doubted that the combined might of Emerald and Mercury would lose to any assailing entourage that Adam could sneak past her while they had their meeting. Not to mention that a fight so close to the camp would have been heard by everyone.

So where on Remnant had they gone and why?

Then she heard it.

A scream.

A distant, inhumane, bloodcurdling, agonized scream, reverberating into the empty night sky.

So intense and sudden was the cry that Cinder froze on the spot, a small, chilled breath escaping her lips as her eyes widened, shock gripping her heart.

Her muscles coldly tensed up once she recognized who the pained wails belonged to.

"Emerald?" She shouted out, spinning to the direction of the scream—into the thick of the woods. The scream had died down before-

Come, Witch.

Bewilderment washed over her as she drew her blades out. "Who's there? Show yourself!" She demanded, blades held in preparation for an ambush as her eyes darted to every still tree around her, watching for any discrepancies among them.

Yet, the only reply she received was the mirthful yet dark chuckle of a man, whose voice rang out everywhere with no discernible origin.

Hurry, Cinder Fall, the voice said with mock worry, clear sadism weaved into his tone, your student might not survive at this rate. The voice's point was accentuated by another excruciating scream.

Cinder's aghast form remained rooted in place as her mind ran in overdrive, racing with a myriad of thoughts. Thoughts such as how that unrecognizable voice knew her or why it blasted in her mind, but she was given no time to consider any of these as she steeled herself, sheathed her blades and broke into a sprint in the directions of the harrowing screams.

She ran through the dark of the forest, maneuvering around the thickets and bramble, avoiding the trees and foliage. This person knew her. He knew them. But did he know their purpose? Was this Ozpin's doing—had he somehow tracked them down? Was this man a Huntsman come to put them down, the same one from before?

Faster, Cinder, faster! The voice teased at the edge of her senses.

She could hear the faint whimpers of Emerald ahead. She was getting close.

She burst through some foliage into a clearing.

And came upon a sight that took her aback.

In the center of the clearing laid a beaten and unconscious Mercury, face-first in the dirt. To his right was Emerald, likewise scarred and beaten, but conscious and in clear pain. The moment Cinder came into visibility, the thief angled her head with difficulty towards her, terror in her eyes yet a renowned sense of desperate hope seemed to blossom in them. Tears had been leaking down her cheeks as she shook in place, struggling to croak a single word.

And in between them both was a man she could only describe as a horrid beast, whose ghoulish visage was contorted with a tempered hatred.

He held a hand above Emerald, the fingers nearly closed into a fist. His other hand casually held a katana pointed to the ground. And he, whose scowl was worsened by those markings of eternal fury, glared into her with inhumane eyes, so bright in contrast to the rest of his features as if his ill-will empowered them. Eyes that bore into her with utter malice and hatred that she could almost feel his rage slamming into her as a tidal wave. Eyes that held a primal wrath, not too unlike those of a Grimm.

Cinder had never met that man in her life—she would have never forgotten or ignored someone with such unique characteristics. And yet, that man's ire, made completely known without a spoken word, targeted her as though she had committed an unspoken atrocity against him.

She reached for her blades but hesitated as she studied the surreal scene before her. That man was in a position to where he could easily kill Mercury and Emerald well before she could attack him, something she could not have. Both were too important to the plan to perish. There was no telling what that stranger would do, and to her great frustration, Cinder found herself unable to do anything but glare back at him.

Then he spoke.

"Your students performed disappointingly," he said bluntly, sparing a single glance at Emerald, "and a poor student reflects poorly on their master."

Cinder lightly snarled, but reeled her emotions back in. A few tense seconds passed before she slowly inquired, "You're a Huntsman? Did Ozpin send you?" The question was indeed to gauge who she was dealing with, but also to distract. For while she spoke, she turned her right hand away from the stranger, gradually building a spark of flame in her palm.

The Faunus snorted derisively. "I am not a lapdog of that fool, nor am I any of those Huntsmen," he uttered lastly with complete disdain. At the sound of Emerald's struggles, he relaxed the fingers on his free hand before subtly waving them, and the thief's head dropped onto the ground, body unmoving.

Cinder's eyes widened slightly. From where she was standing, she couldn't tell if Emerald was simply out cold or dead.

Her eyes looked back to the man as she felt the flicker of flame grow larger—small enough to be unnoticed if he was still distracted, but capable of landing a lethal shot. "Then you're an assassin? Why else would you come all the way out here for us?"

"I am no weapon for hire, and I belong to no one," he rumbled, pointing an accusatory finger at her. "You have been a nuisance to me, with your petulant and arrogant hunger for power that doesn't belong to you, witch."

Cinder's eyes widened briefly before narrowing, not just from the barb.

"You know," she simply stated, dropping all pretenses of genuine curiosity and hesitation.

He lightly scoffed, "Oh, yes, I am aware of what you are and of your magicks."

Cinder regarded him silently with narrowed eyes. Whoever he was, whoever he aligned himself with, he knew she was a Maiden (half of one, at least). It was an insulting term, 'which', but it drove his point across all the same. He knew of the Maidens. He knew of her, of them. And he knew that she took the original Fall Maiden's power, a fraction of it.

If he knew that, then what else did he know? Did he know the previous Fall Maiden? Did he know of their plan? Did he know Ozpin's secret? Of the relics?

… Did he know of her?

Her attack was nearly complete.

"Who are you, then? I think I would have remembered ruining someone with your rather unique appearance."

The man narrowed his eyes knowingly. "Don't think I haven't noticed your conjuring, witch," he growled.

Cinder stiffened, unconsciously halting the creation of the ball of fire.

He briefly glanced at her hand, studying it, seeming unimpressed. Cinder lightly growled as a spark of anger jolted through her. Then, keeping his scowl transfixed on her, he raised his blade before implanting it into the dirt. With each hand, he clutched the air above the downed duo before raising them into the air in correspondence with his arms, to her bafflement.

The Faunus had some sort of telekinetic Semblance? That would explain his earlier action with Emerald, torturing her to summon herself. Cinder did not doubt that such a Semblance would be an extremely baleful ability to wield or go up against in battle, but even that couldn't compare to the awesome powers of a Maiden. Even at half capacity, that fool would be smothered in flames. The only thing stopping her from doing so was that he held hostages valuable to her plan.

Which was why she was shocked when the Faunus shot them past her, as if fired from a small cannon. She spun her head around as their bodies tumbled past her to a stop, at the edge of the clearing—acquiring more injuries in the process, yes, but now far from that man's clutches of death.

A small moment of silence passed as Cinder considered how stupid he must have been to surrender his only boon.

And then she burst to life, the fires that always hungered for power and coursed impatiently through her veins now exploding outwards.

The hems and patterns of her dress flared to life, twin trails of condensed infernos lapping eagerly around her open hands and arms, and a spark of flame flared vehemently from her right eye as she looked back at the man. The bright glow of her eyes, powered from an insatiable hunger for power and the unparalleled fires of a Maiden, now rivaled the stranger's own. His frown deepened while Cinder's smirk grew.

"And here you were telling me that I'm the arrogant one," she crossed forward fearlessly at a steady pace, hands held to her sides as the fires grew more intense. "Yet, you gave up the only things stopping me from killing you outright. Are you really so eager to forfeit your life?"

"You forfeited yours the moment you stepped foot into these woods," the stranger countered, posture remaining unfazed with arms kept aside—wide open and not defensive. Bold and stupid; perhaps a small part of her could respect the tenacity, if she wasn't so annoyed that he seemed to hardly care and not take her seriously like someone of her power should have been.

"Hmph." Cinder stopped about ten yards short of him. "I'll have more work to do after I kill you, finding out who you're with and how much they know. But for now, tell me this: what is your name? You've managed to pique my interest."

"Don't be mistaken, witch," he said, "this is not a fight between warriors. You aren't yet dead at my feet because you hold valuable knowledge, knowledge that I haven't pried out of you because your parlour tricks slightly interest me enough to delay your death," he extended a hand and motioned her with his fingers, "come, then. Show me your 'might,' Cinder Fall."

Parlour tricks... is that what he thought of her power?

The fires sparked more violently. "You're right," she admitted, "this won't be a fight at all."

Cinder raised both arms up and launched a funneled torrent of fire, blitzing across the expanse and scorching the grass beneath it. The raging stream, thick enough to encompass the man's torso, met him head on and enveloped him. Cinder smiled, not relenting until even his corpse was less than ashes. Wherever an inconsequential idiot like that came from, she would destroy the others soon enough. She would also need to talk to both Emerald and Mercury for losing to someone clearly underwhelming in combat even if he did exude and air of drea-

"What?" Cinder balked, overtaken with shock as the stream splintered apart at the head, crashing into an immovable object like a river colliding against a mountain. She barely felt her mouth drop at the impossible sight, for as the stream continued to split down the middle, the unmistakable form of the Faunus became visible. Not only was he not dead or on fire, but she could also see him hold an open palm before himself, to which the fires bounced just before it and slid harmlessly around him with no resistance.

And even through the glow of the fire and embers clouding the area, the man's fierce and unmoving glare burned into her.

She quickly recovered, growling as she planted another foot forward and pumped even more power into her attack, twisting it into a violent unbridled torrent made larger. The man responded by raising his other arm up and doubling his defense.

Cinder roared as she poured everything she had into the attack, yearning for his death more than ever. She held the power of a Maiden, damn it! No person should have been able to defend against such raw power head on! Yet his defense held sturdy as the viscous stream whipped off his barrier unfailingly, scorching the ground around them and littering scant fires and embers all around.

The Faunus' scowl grew, teeth bared. He reared both arms back, his barrier letting up slightly, and thrusted them forward.

The air thundered and crackled with terrible power that drowned even the inferno in noise as an intangible wave of energy bull-rushed through the stream and tore it asunder like an unyielding ram. Cinder had only enough time to widen her eyes before the wave completely dispelled her attack and slammed into her, launching her off her feet then bouncing and skidding violently against the ground.

"Guah!"

As Cinder rolled to a harsh stop, she hastily forced herself back up with a growl and looked at the Faunus with a mixture of disbelief and anger. Said Faunus looked back at her, a small malicious smile on his lips. He gripped the pommel of his blade and yanked it out of the ground in one swift motion. He assumed a stance, blade gripped with both hands pointed slightly upward—challenging her.

So, that was how he wanted to play it?

With a snarl, she unsheathed her twin blades and blasted forward.

She leapt and crashed both blades down for an overhead strike as the Faunus raised his own to block the attack. And the two shifted their blades to counter the other, entering a deadly dance of steel and wills, both geared towards the other's demise.

Their blades clashed and bounced violently against each other as they blitzed throughout the scorched battlefield, never remaining in place for long.

Even utilizing kicks, an extra blade and alternating her attacks, Cinder found no purchase against the Faunus, as he successfully parried, blocked, or dodged all her strikes, easily keeping up in their game of swordplay.

He was better than most Huntsmen, she begrudgingly admitted.

And throughout their deadly dance, Cinder glared and snarled infuriatingly while the Faunus locked his firm, critical gaze on her.

When their blades locked against each other yet again, Cinder withdrew and went for the leg sweep to which the man jumped over and launched a kick in midair, knocking her on her back with a grunt. She quickly rolled to the side as the man thrusted his blade in the ground where she just was.

She flipped back up on her feet and swung both blades for a horizontal slice at the man's abdomen, but he seamlessly withdrew his blade from the dirt and deftly countered from his right as his other hand caught her wrist inches from his side. He squeezed her wrist with ungodly pressure before she could break free, causing her to painfully groan as she involuntarily dropped her blade from her seized hand.

He mercilessly curbed his knee to her abdomen before headbutting her and finishing by punching her square in the face with his free hand.

Cinder cried out and stumbled back with a hand to her face before dragging it down with a low growl, revealing a face contorted with unbridled rage. As if to accentuate that point, the flame around her eye sparked back to life and her free hand exploded with raging tendrils of fire, outstretched and opened like a claw as she pounced back to the stranger with the intent of burning his face, slowly.

He twisted and narrowly avoided her burning grasp as she landed past him, quickly twisting around and swinging her fiery appendage like a hammer. Yet even with her anger and vengeance fueling her power, her furious advance was halted in the air by some invisible force, her anger growing at the sight of the stranger's opened palm inches away from the flames that desperately scathed against his unbudging barrier.

Cinder pumped more flames into her arm as she did her damndest to push through his shield and scorch him, yet the stranger showed no signs of struggling or letting up. With his other hand, gripping the blade pommel with a thumb, he thrusted his palm to her abdomen and blasted her with the same ominous energy. Although less violent and powerful than the last, Cinder was still knocked away in the air.

"Gah!"

Though taken off guard, she twisted and corrected her trajectory and dug her blade and blazing hand into the ground, creating a wake of melted, scorched earth and littered fires as she skidded back.

Glancing back up, her eyes widened as she barely bought her blade up to block the incoming strike from the stranger, already upon her. He growled like an irritated Grimm as he swiftly raised his blade and struck again at another angle. Cinder parried in time, and their dance of swinging blades resumed, but she noticed a difference that time. One that was not good for her.

The Faunus was on the offensive.

In their first bout, he kept up with her blow for blow, deflecting and avoiding all her strikes. Now, it was as if an entirely different combatant was dueling her. The man fought with a renewed ferocity and aggression that Cinder struggled to keep up with.

He chased her across the battlefield as Cinder retreated from his blitzing strikes, anxiety slowly building up in her. His blade was a viper—constantly lashing at her and recoiling from each deflection into another exposed area, taking advantage of every crack in her defense. His strikes seemed to accelerate to impossible speeds with each strike, strikes that inched closer and closer to breaking her defenses; flashing far too fast for her to counter appropriately as she was forced to hastily deflect strike after strike.

And then he caught her—her own blade not fast enough to parry his as he swung horizontally, carving into her Aura around her gut. She didn't even get the chance to cry out as the stranger did not relent in his ruthless assault, performing agonizing consecutive slashes like a steel whirlwind.

He finished with a strong kick to the gut, the combination of steel, momentum, and stunning pain causing her to briefly choke on spittle as she was sent flying back and bouncing unceremoniously, dropping her remaining blade in the process.

As Cinder coughed on her back and struggled to regain her breath, feelings of bubbling anger and bewilderment swelled within her. Who was this and how could he keep up with her? No one should have been able to put her through that much trouble one-on-one with her power! Not even the best Huntsmen should be capable of that!

She was given little time to consider the impossibilities as panic overtook her when the Faunus came soaring down from the sky, blade aimed to impale her abdomen. With a gasp, she fumbled out of the way right as his blade embedded the ground.

Before he could continue his assault, Cinder scrambled back up to her feet and leapt a much safer distance back from the stranger with the aid of her Maiden powers. She glowered at him with a grudging look.

She was not going to beat him at close quarters combat, she begrudgingly conceded. His skill with a blade was greater than any she has fought in the past; even with just a simple katana, he was a more lethal foe than a Huntsman wielding their customized weapon. Unfortunately for him, Cinder had other deployable methods of fighting.

Her hands ignited yet again.

Steel blades and fists were toys to her own power. He may have defended against a few of her attacks already, but she would like to see how well he fared against an onslaught of her full might.

The Faunus yanked his blade out and sprinted toward her with outrageous speeds, firmly resolute in not giving her any breathing room.

A Vengeful smirk graced Cinder's lips as she calmly outstretched her hand, the fires dancing eagerly at what was to come.

A wrathful, ominous wail howled through the air, confusing the stranger as he halted to a stop. With a look of shock, he jerked his head down to see the ground below him alight with swirling, translucent, bright and dark magic, reaching its zenith of detonation.

Cinder's smirk slightly ebbed when the stranger reacted fast enough to spring backwards as the floor exploded in a beam of light, shooting up dirt and debris, but her savage vengeance excited her at having the tables turned.

The man looked to where the explosion was with a flash of recognition, eying it studiously and growling under his breath.

Cinder waved her arm and a dozen more replicate spells scattered across the battlefield. The stranger narrowed his eyes, swiveling his gaze at the deathtraps laid all over. With a flick of her fingers, Cinder began a chain-detonation.

The air was filled with deafening arcane howls and explosions as the stranger flipped and leapt across the expanse to avoid each consecutive ignition, a path of fiery combustions tailing him like a burning ghoul.

A malcontent frown soured Cinder's face. Despite having surprised the Faunus and putting him on the run, no matter how close the explosions got to frying him, he flawlessly maneuvered around each deathtrap to ensnare him. He bounced across the ruined and scorched earth with a surprising amount of flexibility and agility, soaring with each bound as if flying.

Cinder flicked her fingers.

When her foe landed, three identical spells morphed in the same place just before the stranger. All three simultaneously shrieked as he hastily bounded away from the blast zone, but although he escaped the epicenter of the colossal explosion, the following shock wave knocked him off balance in midair and blasted him further back.

"Nrgh!"

He grunted as he briefly rolled across the ground before coming to a stop on his back.

Cinder smiled maliciously. Now was her chance.

Not wasting time, she flung her arms up and curled her fingers in, lifting all the ashes and embers in the air above her like some perverse storm. With a clench of her fist, the particles simultaneously combined and melded together into scores of dagger-like spikes, hovering in place and geared forward. Cinder shot her other arm forward, blasting the daggers towards the prone Faunus.

Said Faunus snarled as he swiftly lifted his legs up and flipped himself back with his hands, bouncing back on his feet and continuously springing backwards and narrowly dodging the hailstorm of daggers impaling the ground and whistling towards him like a wave of spikes crawling ever closer.

Cinder did not relent as she continued to fire a volley upon the hastily retreating Faunus with smirk of savage glee.

As the remaining wave of daggers edged closer, he leaned far back upon landing to allow the final projectiles to fly over him—all but one as it sliced him across his cheek.

The Faunus grunted and pulled back as he brought a hand to his cheek.

It was not a killing blow nor a significant one, or anything much for that matter, unfortunately. Still, it elated her at putting that infuriating idiot on the ropes—

The Faunus pulled his hand back.

Blood dripped down his cheek.

It was a faint trail, barely discernable only because it contrasted with his facial markings and was hardly anything a fighter would be concerned about, just something to brush aside; the Faunus didn't seem plenty pained by it either. But still. It was there. If blood was drawn, then…

He had no Aura.

But he couldn't have been depleted this whole time. He had been fighting extraordinarily, too well for someone with a shattered Aura, too confident.

Yet her attack damaged him—not breaking it; no, his form would have flickered with some hue and she would have heard his Aura shatter if that was the case. No, he truly had been fighting with his Aura depleted.

But that was impossible. He had been using his Semblance as clear as day! No one, no matter how strong, could operate their Semblance if their Aura was completely drained.

So how on Remnant was this stranger battling sufficiently without one?

She didn't get to consider the impossibility further as the stranger loomed back at her with a dark glower, eyes somehow more alight with that fierce glow; he looked more like a hellish lion than a person at that moment.

Cinder's faced scrunched into a vexing scowl. If he had no Aura, then ending this little bout would be all the easier. She was done with this game.

Both arms still ablaze at her sides, the fires conjoined into condensed balls of flames in each hand before consecutively lobbing them at the stranger.

He firmly raised his arm and slapped the incoming fireballs to each side of himself with a flick of his fingers, combusting against the bordering trees.

With a frustrated growl, she brought her hands together and charged another fireball, building up to be much larger and fiercer than the previous two. She roared as she pushed the condensed inferno towards the stranger.

As it blazed towards him, the stranger, firmly rooted, raised an arm expectantly and caught the raging ball of fire with his powers—no pushback, no struggle, no taxing efforts as if he merely caught a baseball. Cinder's eyes widened when he thrusted his other arm forward and blasted her own attack back with violent velocity.

Cinder was knocked out of her stupor and shot her hands up and absorbed the impact of the fireball with both her Aura and Maiden powers—the erupting blast knocking her back and skidding along the dirt despite avoiding the worst of the damage.

With a pained grunt, she forced herself back up, fixing a ferocious glare at that damned Faunus, who stalked forward at a steady pace. Maintaining his stride and eye contact with her, his face crested into a fierce snarl as he stretched an arm to each side of himself and ripped the trunks of two trees straight out of the ground.

She nearly balked at the sight and hurriedly fired a fusillade of fireballs at the stranger.

He curled both arms inward, summoning the thick trunks in front of him. The fireballs cascaded against them, blistering and blazing them but holding true as makeshift defenses.

One of the trunks was launched forward, Cinder eying it with a mix of anger and dampened disbelief, mentally smacking herself—she should have seen that one coming. Cinder halted her barrage and leapt over the trunk as it tumbled on the ground past her—and narrowly ducked under the second blazing trunk as it soared inches above her face.

As the adrenaline and powers of the Fall Maiden pumped through her veins, Cinder twisted back and began conjuring more fire in her grasp.

And her form froze.

Not from involuntary shock, but she literally could not move—small twitches and budges, but nothing much. Numbing shock filled her. Of course, there was only one person to cause this, but she didn't know his Semblance could completely nullify someone's movement like that—even with an Aura up! No—not a Semblance—he was too powerful to equate his telekinetic abilities to a single Semblance; and, somehow, no Aura.

"I am done playing games, Fall." Cinder craned her head as much as she could toward the stranger, gritting her teeth, unable to even speak. He held a single hand in a clutching motion.

The revelation stirred different emotions in her. Frustration for being trapped helpless, yes, but there was also anger. A game, he said. The thought of him, of anyone, toying with her was an infuriating one.

Someone able to do so was even more so. And there was something else.

She would never consciously accept it, but there was a daunting fact lingering in the back of her mind—shoved and stowed away by her anger and pride, to be discarded and forgotten, but remained always.

This is not a fight between warriors.

He never saw this as a fight. And he could have ended it at any moment.

He could have—could still kill her.

…

Without another word, the stranger raised his arm and Cinder was flung high into the air and hurled crashing back into one of the burning trunks. She could hardly scream out as the merciless momentum rag-dolling her didn't pause and shot her back up before slamming her into the second trunk, exploding it into smithereens.

Her breath hitched as the air was knocked out of her lungs before being lifted again, slower.

That sadistic bastard… she could feel it. The fight had finally started taking its toll on her. Her Aura was chipping—not dangerously low but whittled more than she would have liked; it didn't help that each meteoric impact of her body drained a good chunk out of her. She grunted as she strained her fingers, the flames having been extinguished. She wasn't sure if she could summon fireballs or daggers in this state, nor was she confident that she could launch them at the Faunus without him preventing it if she could. She needed to do something to bypass that intangible grip—

Cinder relaxed her hands and body as she focused, gathering every ounce of her Maiden powers and Semblance within herself as she reached the zenith of her ascent. All the intense combined energies burned in her like a heart of magma and swirled out of her, too overpowering to be contained in her form.

The man's eyes widened, her form glowing like a translucent ember as the stranger hurriedly reached his other hand up.

She flicked her fingers.

And the heart of her power erupted.

An orange translucent shockwave, hotter than any fire, pulsed in all directions like an exploding sun.

All the leaves and smaller trees of the surrounding woods evaporated entirely, lighting the rest up like torches to create a hellish, smokey landscape.

The stranger quickly braced both arms before himself as the wave washed over him.

Cinder dropped to the completely ash-smoldered ground, staggering to her feet and regaining her breath, but there was no time to rest yet. She looked up wearily. The sight that greeted her simultaneously disappointed and excited her.

He was on the ground—alive and unburned, unfortunately. Perhaps he succeeded in blocking the shock wave from hitting him but was knocked down on his back either from the force or lack of preparation with little time to act.

Either way, she herself had little time to act.

Cinder blasted forward in a beeline, slightly swerving to collect her dropped blades, and she was on top of him as he leaned on his side, head down, hand clutching his waist—wounded.

She raised her right blade and roared as she swung it down.

And like a viper in wait, he recoiled his "wounded" arm back with something peculiar in his grip.

Something that roared to life in a violent white and crimson hue.

Their blades collided… and the red ray sliced through hers and slashed her face in one fluid movement.

Cinder screamed as she stumbled backwards, dropping what was left of her ruined blade to bring a hand to her face. Her Aura flickered violently, dying out and on the brink of collapse.

She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and frenetically levied her other blade before herself as the stranger, already up, swung the blade across. It was a futile attempt as it, like a whip made from the searing core of a bleeding star, sliced clean through her weapon, leaving nothing but a smoldering shaft in her hand.

She dropped it as she stumbled backwards, defenseless, as the stranger swung his blade up her chin.

Her Aura shattered and she fell backwards with a scream.

She frantically scrambled along her back with a hand clutched to her face as the stranger stomped forward with that monstrous blade still hissing forebodingly. He reached his free hand out, and a sudden choking presence constricted around Cinder's throat. She gagged and clawed around it as she was jerked up, feet dangling off the ground.

Cinder stared at him in shock, at that blade—if it even was one—as he stood directly in front of her, his glare as searing as the bleeding weapon he held. He thrusted his free hand around her throat as the fingers of his other hand extended outward in front of her, still gripping the lethal weapon with his thumb.

"Show me," he demanded, "show me everything."

And then her head was assaulted, the dams of her mind broken by a baleful and furious force that impaled it like the flaming talons of a phoenix. And as her mind was exposed and sifted through without care, no longer under the control of her own consciousness, all Cinder could do was scream.

---

Maul's Force connection to the witch's mind forced all her knowledge to erupt at once. All knowledge. Feelings. Locations. Names. Everything. It all came to him as flashes of images, too quick and minute to discern anything. But only some more time was needed to flesh them out and absorb everything into cohesive information; then, would he finally understand more of Remnant's bizarre mystery.

Already, though, Cinder's primary forethoughts and recollections seemed directly centered on one thing; no, a person—no, no, a… Grimm?

Yet, as he razed her mindscape, the edges of his view slowly receded to darkness as if being swallowed by a living void. The flashes disappeared entirely, as did all sound and senses. Maul looked around the dark and barren landscape confusedly, sensing his connection to Cinder's mind having been dampened.

What was this? Did the witch have some mental resistances or spells to safeguard against mental attacks?

And then a large shape dwarfing him entirely crept out of the shadows and stared down at him.

White tendrils, like veins or dead roots, formed a seemingly floating center mass adorned with an open maw, a pair of burning yellow eyes and red marking all over. It released a bestial growl he had come to know many times on Remnant, as any tenant of the planet would.

A Grimm.

But how?

The thing howled like the savage beast it was and brought its jaws down on Maul, consuming him in one fell swoop.

---

"Gaargh!"

Maul recoiled back and clutched his forehead, reeling as though he was struck with hot iron.

Yet, through his haziness, he heard Cinder groaning and snapped his attention back to her.

Weak on the ground, she held a single hand up and struggled to elicit a spark of flame in her palm, but she did. The ground below him shrieked again, and Maul realized: the magicks of that witch were not tied to her Aura.

She still had power, whatever little was left.

He looked down and saw the familiar swirling yellow-orange and black arcane-magicks that the witch was apparently very fond of using.

He was point blank in the center of it.

No time to dive left, right, or use his powers.

Then the Force alerted him like a siren in his head, told him what to do. Maul listened and sprung upwards as the ground detonated.

---

Cinder was knocked against the ground from her own blast. She grunted and breathed raggedly.

Her muscles ached from the exertion of using the final bits of her power for a desperate retaliation. Pain racked her bones and flesh—no Aura to nullify it and heal her injuries. Her face, especially, still felt as if it were whipped with plasma. Her own weapons were destroyed, and she had no other means to attack or defend herself.

She was beaten and powerless. Rendered helpless.

She hated it.

She hated being so vulnerable—no, she was never helpless, never again weak. Only as a child was she forced under, subjugated by others, but she had grown far beyond that and would never be restrained or beaten down again.

She only submitted to one person, the one who held the key for her to achieve ultimate power.

Still, her mind was attacked, nearly torn asunder; it still felt like a heated pile of mush stirring in a cracked shell. It was worse than a mere migraine, and more deliberate, too. How such an illusive ability existed and could be wielded, she was at a loss.

As Cinder laid there and allowed her breathing to return to a normal rate, she realized that she hadn't been attacked. It was a relief, exciting, but it also made her tense. What if he had allowed her to collect herself before striking her down?

So, weakly, Cinder lifted her head up.

The man was not there. Just a crater.

She slowly craned her head around, looking through the decimated field and smoldering woods, chocked thick with smoke and towering flames, likely beginning a new forest fire. Even behind those fires she looked, as if he was primed to leap out and ambush her at any moment. But it never came. She saw no shadows belonging to him, and the only sounds to be heard was the roaring fire and cracking bark.

After a few tense seconds, she sighed and relaxed her muscles. He was dead.

She had killed him.

She thought she did, at least.

As she rested on the ground, convince herself otherwise though she might, she couldn't rid herself of the small yet elusive doubt that the dark warrior wasn't truly vanquished.

Eventually, she clambered back up to her feet, turning back towards Emerald and Mercury, thankfully out of range from her pulse attack and not yet devoured from the fires.

No, he was most certainly dead. He expressed a clear desire to murder her then and there. He would have already tried to stop her if he was hidden elsewhere.

Her burning desire for vengeance had been satiated and there was no longer a threat to her life. With that satisfying and relieving thought, Cinder slowly trudged towards the two, into the blazing woods and out of the smoldered battlefield.

She frowned, though, as she knew she would have to report of this incident to her. To verbally admit her own loss, hinting at any weakness or defeat, even to one such as her made her feel frustrated. But it also tensed her up, made her anxious.

Cinder was no closer to understanding who that man was or where he came from, or if there were others like him. And she didn't know how the immortal queen would react at the news. She couldn't hide anything, not from her, nor would she dare try.

The consequence of such would be brutal.

---

The witch had gathered her students, waking the boy back to consciousness to help carry the girl out. Then they left, fled the scene.

The girl might recover. He did not snap or fracture her spine, not completely. Just pressured intensely enough to evoke screams. Her Aura would likely mend the area and heal her back to full health soon with the aid of medical professionals and equipment—perhaps in just a few days. Such were the capabilities of the seemingly miraculous Auras.

But Maul was not focused on her.

Throughout the whole thing, the Dark Sider watched high up from his own branched perch, nestled away from the approaching flames and smoke for the time. His clothing bore some scorch marks and sizzled edges, but he remained ultimately unharmed. His hand remained open near his deactivated lightsaber on his waist, awaiting to grasp it at any moment. His whole form was rigid, like a gargoyle ready to pounce at any moment.

But he did not.

He certainly wanted to. By the Force, he wanted nothing more at that moment than to strike down that witch. To kill that arrogant woman who thought she could steal control of his empire like so many other fools have tried in the past. She may as well have been a Hutt, with her delusions of invulnerability, of being unstoppable and having everything happen the way she wanted like an ignorant toddler.

The impatient impulses of the Dark Side screamed at him to kill her, his smoldering anger and fury assisting with that notion; he felt his fingers twitch a little closer to the blade.

But, just as his old Master taught him as one of the first lessons of wielding the Dark Side of the Force, he was the Master of it and his own feelings—not the other way around. The dark energies rumbled, not unlike a hound begrudgingly obeying its owner, and sizzled at bay for the time. It gnawed at the edges of his senses, eager for release, but was kept back. At bay and at command, as it was meant to be.

He certainly wanted to indulge its desire—his own desire, but one thing kept his blade at bay.

The Grimm.

Cinder—or that thing, more accurately—forcibly ejected him out of her head. It retaliated against his presence as a living thing, far different than a Jedi or Sith defending their minds with their own powers. It was its own living thing, a parasite somehow living in Cinder, or at least something that she could either summon or came when needed.

The fact that a mind-Grimm or a parasite of sorts, whatever it was even existed was mind-boggling on its own. But that was not what drew Maul's attention.

It did not attack her like it should have. Even the most intelligent Grimm attacked and killed people indiscriminately. Perhaps they favored certain prey due to their emotions or if they were weaker than others, but they ultimately sought the demise of every creature that was not them.

But that one served her. It defended her. Which led him to a single unfathomable notion.

The witch could control the Grimm. Or at least, she held one that already did not attack her on sight. How ever it was under her command, whether it was her own doing or that of some other witch or another method entirely, the fact remained that Grimm could be tamed, could be controlled.

When Maul first arrived on Remnant and established his empire, he had his eyes set on many opportunities and resources found nowhere else in the galaxy. And one of the things that initially excited him the most were the Grimm. Unique creatures of darkness found nowhere else in the galaxy, as if the Dark Side itself took form in those beasts; after all, they were not true organisms. They lacked organs, diets, needs, souls—just the desire to kill and destroy, the most basic impulse of the Dark Side. And indeed, they reeked with its twisted energies; it was a wonder how civilization on Remnant could still thrive with such beasts in all shapes and sizes lurking in every corner of the planet at an unlimited capacity.

One of the first things he had tried after his arrival was to dominate the mind of a Grimm; but, as he knew now, the Grimm had no minds to dominate. Just furious emotions given form. All his attempts only made them angrier and more ravenous than they already were.

While he hadn't given up on that front and still held hope that the Grimm could still be harnessed in other ways, he had accepted that, given their nature and physiology, they were indominable. Not even the Force held sway over them. Perhaps that was the point of their existence.

But Cinder had done just that, the impossible act of commanding a Grimm. But was it done by her own hands?

It infuriated the dark warrior to no end that he hadn't learned hardly anything of value before the mind-Grimm kicked him out. But there was one thing.

It was a glimpse, just long enough to be encoded into his head as something more than a random flash.

It was a person. Yet Cinder's forcibly elicited feelings, as short as they were, rang sharp in his mind. Fear was the most prominent, but it was not overwhelming; she did not fear this person as an enemy, but more so as a powerful force to be respected. But there was also subservience to them. Someone she obeyed.

This person… she was a woman.

Dark regal clothing adorned her, yet her skin was an ashen-white, as if she was ungraced by the sun for decades, which was contrasted sharply by black, sprawling, sickly veins like some distorted spider's web. Her eyes, constructed with black and blood, likewise contrasted her calm demeanor. They held patience and intelligence, but no trace of humanity could be found in them.

Her gaze was not unlike that of an elderly Grimm—savagery restrained by a cold intellect.

It was only a single glimpse, but it was imprinted in Maul's head as if it was his own memory.

She was humanoid, but not human or Faunus, or like any other known race in the galaxy for that matter. No, she looked…

She looked like a Grimm in human form.

… Was such a thing even possible?

As bizarre and unfathomable as the idea was, Maul could not counter it.

Remnant had already proven long ago its knack for throwing seemingly impossible surprises into his face, and his hunt for Cinder only dove him deeper down that rabbit-hole.

Still, a human-Grimm, that a witch with some power and command over a Grimm followed…

Maul had played around with the idea that the Grimm as a species operated as a collective hive, or something akin to it. That would explain their remarkable capabilities of simultaneously swarming settlements, transports, or whatever else the moment an opportunity was presented, or how they could locate small groups of people together, even with the aid of negative emotions acting as a guide. Many species, even some sapient ones, operated and relied on such interpersonal communication.

Some of those races acted as a cohesive unit like a colony, others acted sporadically as individuals, only having telepathic communications to warn of a threat to their species.

Others, however, had a hivemind. A single entity commanding an entire legion with absolute loyalty encoded into their DNA. Something that all members obeyed without a shroud of doubt or betrayal. The alpha, the leader, the tyrant, the parent.

The Queen.

His string of thoughts sounded insane and convoluted, he knew, but Maul could not dispel the growing doubts and disturbing notions. Cinder held a Grimm that did not attack her and that was an indisputable fact, but he doubted that the witch was the one holding ultimate control over it; even with her arrogance, she would surely have summoned a horde to aid her in their duel when she finally realized how outmatched she was.

And that woman had to be powerful to have a witch as an apprentice.

Cinder was apprenticed to this being, or at least learning under her; of that, he knew for certain.

Not because of a memory he ripped out, but because of her feelings regarding that woman.

She esteemed the dark woman with respect, fear, and awe, but also with loyalty and subservience that were coupled with her deep hunger for power. It was a unique and delicate blend of feelings, found only in the brutal relationship of apprentice and master. But he knew it to be true.

After all, he himself had identical feelings regarding his old Master in his younger life. Awed by the Dark Lord's immense power and craving it to be his own—his reason for loyalty.

There were other reasons, of course. Back then, he truly believed in the Sith and considered their extinction a massacre of his own people. Revenge against the Jedi had fueled him. And, naively, he never thought his own master would discard him like a broken tool. For a time, he believed himself to be a chosen champion of the Dark Side to usher in a new age in the galaxy.

But that was long ago.

Cinder likely had her reasons for her loyalty, but it was there, nonetheless. And there was that deep hunger for power aimed at that dark woman.

Maul had already expected that Cinder was only an agent of something bigger; witches having their own plans for Beacon was concerning and disruptive enough. That woman herself was surely a witch, a very powerful one, he suspected. But was that woman the one true orchestrator? The other shadow-ruler he would contend with for Remnant? Just what could such a person with extreme power, who could possibly command the Grimm, do to the planet? What would she want? If she really could, why had she remained hidden?

Momin's records spoke nothing of this—of a human-Grimm, of witches, or any hidden societies. Nothing to give him any context or clues in the slightest.

The dark warrior clenched his fists tightly.

For the first time in a long time, Maul was confronted with a situation that he didn't know what to make of or how to properly handle it. He had guessed at a secret society of witches with terrorist-esque agendas, but now he was certain it was something much more.

Whatever it was, it was a threat to Beacon, or perhaps even to all of Remnant—the rarest and most valuable resource in the galaxy.

And he could not have that. He would not have that.

The shattered, broken world was his key to success—to victory.

To his revenge.

Remnant was more important than anything, even more than all the gained power and control he held in the greater galaxy.

At no cost at all could he lose it and his control over it.

But what he was now up against was far greater than simple terrorism. The Force agreed. It was something only Remnant, in all its mystique and insanity, could muster—nothing the galaxy had seen before. Not even the bygone wars of the Jedi and Sith, as far as he knew, ever dealt with a situation quite like this.

It was him versus the unknown. He had no access to any of his other resources from beyond Remnant. Only him and everything under his control on the planet against a mysterious force from the planet's underbelly.

And the only person that knew anything about it was leaving his grasp.

He could kill that witch now—but she was the only known source of valuable knowledge to him. If another agent was sent in, he might not recognize them as such. Or they could go a different route entirely with the witch dead. Perhaps her students knew some things, but were their minds protected as well with whatever sort of Grimm that was?

And what retaliation would strike back if he killed her?

What retaliation would strike back if he let her walk away for now?

They would know of this, of him.

Not of his position or power over the criminal underworld, but they would know that someone was aware of and against them. And then their war would officially begin.

He was damned either way, it seemed. Stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Every second of indecisiveness that passed was another foot added between him and her, and one less between her and the White Fang encampment.

What was he to do? It was frustrating…

What would he have done?

Maul loathed that wicked old man. He had discarded him, replaced him, and killed his brother. He hated him always. But he recognized his cunningness and intelligence, respected and admired it, though he wouldn't care to admit it.

There were many things Maul never got to learn under his old Master after his defeat on Naboo. Powers and secrets of the Dark Side that would remain hidden to him forever. But the thing he wished to have learned the most, at least at that moment, was how to gain his old Master's frightening knack for foreknowledge and thinking.

When he was young and still an apprentice, he would sometimes see his Master with an idle expression, looking out at nothing as if lost in thought. Back then, Maul had assumed that he was just thinking about political stuff with the Republic—the Senate, more precisely. Or maybe of his many various "projects", especially when they were handled under his Sith persona.

Maul never cared for any of those as an apprentice. His only focus had been to hone his skills as a warrior and exercise his powers with the Force. And he was naïve, then.

His old Master thought of those, yes, but hundreds of other ideas and thoughts ran through his head at once. Ideas and thoughts of what were and what could be, a cognitive ability that expanded beyond natural extremes. He knew, he always knew. Whether it was for the day after the present or decades ahead, the Sith was rarely surprised, even by unexpected "road bumps" in his plans.

It was as if the Force itself granted him vision of the future and of each consequence for choices and events.

It was his thinking, coupled with his manipulations that gave him victory.

It was how he orchestrated the Clone War from both sides, beginning to end.

It was how he corrupted the Jedi Order's strongest warrior into the dark, brutal enforcer of the Empire.

It was how he destroyed the Jedi Order and made himself the Emperor of the entire galaxy.

Cunningness, deceptiveness, manipulation, and outrageous power. It was his nature.

The only person in the galaxy that made him apprehensive to encounter alone.

The one person alive he hated most.

The Dark Lord of the Sith.

Darth Sidious.

Yet even with his caustic fury focused on him, Maul could not deny Sidious' ability of playing and out-doing others. Maul might have inherited some of his cognitive capabilities, but he knew that he could never match his old Master in that game; even after being apprenticed under him for so long and witnessing his plans unfold with the Jedi Purge, he still could not quite understand the innerworkings of his mind.

So, what would he have done in this situation?

His old Master encountered many hiccups—his own resurgence included—during the Clone War, the most vital period of his grand plan. Yet he dealt with each one, swiftly or later, as he best saw fit for his master plan. Maul took no pleasure in relying on his old Master, even in an indirect manner, but he needed the boon. How did Sidious maneuver around each contingency, to erase or use them, handle them directly or from the shadows?

… Cinder still did not know who he was.

They, whoever "they" were, would be just in the dark about him as he was of them—only knowing that someone was acting against them.

But the witch believed that she held control of Roman, and thus held control of Vale's criminal syndicate. Her arrogance had already proven her carelessness. Surrounded by faux power, she would believe herself to be in a safe haven, completely unsuspecting of him. She still required his empire and resources. She already made heavy use of it so far; clearly, the manpower and resources would be used for whatever her master had planned. So, they would still use it, even after this.

After all, they had no reason to suspect he had any affiliation with Roman and the criminal underworld.

And only a select few in his empire knew of his existence, and they would keep their mouths shut around her. He had already made it a point to keep his existence secret long ago.

The witch would likely strip her guise around Torchwick and the others since they "worked" for her. Well hidden from the public eye, too.

If Cinder believed she held ultimate control of his empire and continued to use it, she would be forced to reveal the next steps of her plan. Either by revealing it to Roman or from her actions alone.

And Roman and the mute, especially the latter, could effectively work reconnaissance to ascertain information. After all, Cinder had no reason to suspect their affiliation with him, or for any betrayal—well, she might have already considered that as a possibility, but she did not know that they were already against her.

Roman's right hand could be very sneaky and illusive when she wanted to be. That would come in handy.

Cinder would be "safe" from Maul and remain alive as long as she continued to be a good lead to his mysterious opponent.

After that, he would have no more use for her.

He would allow her to believe she held control and make changes to his empire—he wasn't happy with them, but she wasn't destroying it from the inside, so he would let it slide. For now.

Yes. Yes, this was how.

The witch would believe herself to be safe without his presence being made known and continue to work towards her goal, unwittingly enlightening her plan and important details to him all the while, as well as with everything Neo and Roman could retrieve from her.

It wasn't entirely foolproof, he knew, but that was a risk he was willing to take. There was no other plan to go through, not now.

He would await her move for when she next revealed herself.

For now, he would return to Vale. Neo was about finished with his list.

It was time to find his apprentice.

Suddenly—something hit him, washed over and enveloped him.

Maul tensed and jerked up, spinning his head around.

It was not an attack—nothing physical, even. Tingling energies interacted with his being, to the point of being obnoxious if it the action itself wasn't so shocking. No, not an attack—directed at him, but not to harm.

And Maul realized.

This… field, this energy enveloping him like a cold ocean—it was not the magicks of that witch or something else.

It was a call.

After some deliberation, Maul extended his own senses with the Force and answered it.

And then they were linked. Whoever—no, whatever it was somehow knew the ways of the Force.

With their connection, Maul closed his eyes and followed it. There was no interference. Whatever it was had wanted him to discover it.

His eyes snapped open.

The direction of the link, where he had been staring at was the same direction as Beacon.

"Impossible," he muttered under his breath.

The relic he had been searching for, left behind long ago by the planet's previous Sith Lord and the one Ozpin had kept hidden, called to him from the Force.

"What have you left behind, Momin?"

Maul steeled his eyes, resolved.

He had put off claiming the relic for too long.

Perhaps the old Sith's item could answer some of the many questions spawned that night.

---

Days later…

An unending horde of Grimm, so thick and intense that they could blot out the sinking sun like a black cloud, swarmed the forever-bloody skies. Those who could not fly crawled all over the ground like some mad ant infestation across and around the jagged, rocky landscape. Littered all over were black liquid pools, like some massive oil spill. And out of those pools, those wombs, Grimm were birthed, crawling out of the cesspools with a fresh ferocity.

In the center of it all, jutting high from the surface of the rocks was some dark mimicry of a regal castle, born from a bygone era. And through the ornate windows from the throne, she watched.

She watched the corrupt expanses of her kingdom, of her land of darkness.

Rattling her black nails on the armrest of her throne, she stared beyond her kingdom, to where the naïve world of Humans and Faunus rested on a fragile sense of peace, one that would be shattered soon enough. She stared beyond and wondered if the shadow was looking back.

She had sat on that throne, looking out that same window, thinking and wondering for days.

Because for the first time in a very, very long time, Salem, in her unending life, was not quite sure what—or who—was defying her.

Cinder had contacted her days ago and updated her on her mission. She had successfully gained control of Vale's criminal element and the White Fang branch operating in the city and had begun integrating the two together. All went according to plan, as expected.

But Cinder would not have directly contacted her via a Seer just to update her on such small details. Salem knew that. Cinder knew that she knew that.

And already, Salem had seen that the girl struggled to say what she needed to say. Not out of fear of her, no. Something had deeply wounded her pride, and she bitterly admitted what is was after a light coaxing.

The immortal queen had half-expected that Cinder had trouble with Huntsmen or her "dear" Ozma, something that would slow down her plan.

An unknown Aura-less Faunus warrior marred in red and black that had defeated both a half Maiden and her two lackeys? That, Salem would admit, was entirely unexpected.

Cinder tried to assure and argue that she had killed him, that her attack destroyed him after he assaulted her mind. But Salem was not so convinced; the girl had only been so fervent about it so as to not appear so utterly defeated and humiliated, but even she herself was a little unsure, she knew.

It seemed highly unlikely that such a warrior would fall even to an opportunistic attack.

And there was no body. Granted, Cinder's attacks were powerful enough to eviscerate an entire body when no Aura was present. But still.

She had her doubts that the shadow was truly vanquished.

Regardless, he knew of the Maidens and that Cinder was one. Apparently, he might also somehow have known how Cinder became one and that she was only half of one, currently. Perhaps he knew the previous Fall Maiden? He claimed that Cinder had wronged him in some way.

But that seemed unlikely, given his disposition of a savage man. From what Salem gleamed and what Cinder begrudgingly shared, they both agreed that he was not a Huntsman, not a protector of the "good" and "righteous". No, he was a brutal man with his own agenda, not aligned with the former Fall Maiden, and by extension, her Ozma.

He would never work with someone so wicked, so sinister.

The only other way he could have known about the Maidens is from another Maiden somewhere in the world, and the only people in the past that have tried to kill them was to steal their power. But he was a man, alone, and sounded as if he wanted to murder Cinder out of spite instead of power.

An unknown warrior, aware of the existence of Maidens who had battled Cinder and was certainly not aligned with Ozpin was concerning enough for her plan for Beacon.

But one who wielded magic, who seemed very potent with it?

That confounded her. That was the only way she could describe her feelings.

Yet, Salem's reasoning led to only a single conclusion, that the mysterious warrior was indeed a magic-user. He had no Aura, yet he could still freely use telekinesis—a very strong degree of it, at that. He held multiple abilities that could not have been tied down to a single Semblance—he seemed to wield telepathy, a very rare ability, and could directly interact with Cinder's magical attacks.

There were only a few ways to directly manipulate magic like that, and another source of magic was one of them.

And his assault on Cinder's mind, that was concerning. He tried prying his way into her head to find whatever he was looking for.

Was he looking for knowledge on them, or even herself?

Fortunately, the Grimm that she engineered to absorb the Fall Maiden's powers and to defend Cinder in a dire situation did just that—booting the man out and giving the girl time to retaliate and escape.

And that was good, but that confirmed it for Salem.

The man knew magic, even some darker variants of it.

That should not have been possible. The only two people who survived the extinction of the old world and carried magic with them were herself and Ozma. And although he shared his magic with some allies and forfeited a large amount to create the Maidens, that man was not one of them. Again, Ozma would not have ever sided with such a malevolent person, nor did the latter care about the former.

Yes, that was right. He had told Cinder that he held no allegiance to Ozma. It could have been a lie, perhaps, but it seemed unlikely. That man had his own goals different from Ozpin's.

So where and how did this man acquire and learn to wield magic?

It was a question she had been deliberating for days now, but she had come no closer to forming any sound theories or ideas. And each time she tried, it only led back to the original question behind everything.

Who was this man?

A small sigh left her lips.

Salem and Ozma have been warring against each for millennia now. It seemed unending, despite their victories over one another. But she would win. She always adapted, always had time on her side, and now, she had Ozpin right where she wanted him. Even throughout their war, Ozma hardly changed. He had surprised and gotten the better of her before, she would not deny that. But they were never out of character for him, never too far out of his moral comfort zone. And it was because of that "comfort zone" of his that would give her victory soon enough.

But now her plan would need some adjustments. Because throughout their eternal war, a cruel game of chess just between them to outmaneuver the other, something she had never considered now became reality.

A shadow from the unknown lunged into their game.

Because now there was a third player in their unending war.

---

Author's Note:

Okay, it's been nearly a year since the last update, so I first want to apologize for the incredibly long wait. Don't worry, I haven't abandoned this story nor was I hit with a serious case of writer's block. There were just a few circumstances that kept this chapter from being uploaded sooner. Let me explain.

1. Multiple revisions - there were actually two drafts of this chapter before the final product came along. Not completed drafts; I ditched them when I though they just wouldn't work out. When it came to the first draft, the more I wrote, the more I realized that I didn't really like how Maul was introduced to Cinder and her lackeys or how he found them. The second draft didn't make it terribly far. I actually kept some of the same concepts like the bar scene and ensuing torture, but the difference there was that the POV was from one of the White Fang members. Which, granted COULD have been interesting, but I didn't really think it fit for what was going on for the whole chapter, so I changed it into what it is now with a few other differences added in.

2. Life - school and work has been busy, what can I say? By the time I initially started this chapter (1st draft, anyway), the Summer season had just ended and school was back up and kicking. Other things on top of that kept me away and reduced my leisure time.

3. It's a LONG chapter - funny how I said the last chapter was the longest one then, and now this one is actually nearly triple that amount. I could have split this whole thing in half and updated sooner, but then Maul's confrontation with Cinder would still have been on hold for that time. I've been building up to their meeting for a bit and I didn't want to delay it any longer. Plus, despite its daunting length, I feel that every part of this chapter feels more natural together than split apart into two different ones.

That said, future chapter should NOT take this long to update again. The monstrous length of this chapter is an exception. I'll take all the time I need to write, but usually a month or so was enough time to write, edit, and publish.

And just to clarify a few things in case some people ask:

1. Yes, Maul reached out to Emerald and lured her in by mimicking Cinder's voice in her head, playing on her senses and emotions.

2. Although Maul could sense Emerald's mental attack, he was unfazed because of his mental fortitude with the Force. That might be explained a bit more later, but that's the basic gist of it for now.

Thank you all for your patience, and have a great Summer!