AN: Sorry for disappearing after a cliffhanger, finals week took away all my free time. I'll try to get chapters out a little more frequently, but… well… Christmas time is here too. I'll still be working on this story like always, just a little slower than usual.

Reviews v

holandia1103: Glad you've enjoyed it!

spacialyeti8: *evil laughter*

SomeRandomChicken: *evil laughter intensifies*

Ailing Loran: Yep, you're on the right track! If I send you any prize money, check for the tracker first lol! Though, there are going to be many differences since I don't intend on making an exact replica. So, keep on reading and find out. ;)

"Man prides himself on being the only animal who can modify his nature, yet when he chooses to do so he is called a phony."

Anton Szandor LaVey, The Devil's Notebook

Jethro hissed through his teeth as he waited, gaze locked onto the soulless eyes of the man who held his life by a boot.

No, not a man – he was a predator.

This thing's eyes took in all of Jethro's fears and what little hope he had like a black hole with cold, calculative disdain. Or something equivalent… Calling it distain would be ascribing human emotions and morals to this "man". Clearly, the one who currently held control over his life was alien to such things.

Jethro had seen people like him before, back in the war. He knew of what horrors were possible by the madness seeping out of this man's eyes, what evils they were capable of. Jeb Shetland was one of those people; and he was a devil that brought about Hell on Earth across the American south.

And now, he waited in bated breath as the creep judged his life by mere a coin flip.

Heads, Jethro prayed for the first time in a very long time, Heads, please, Heads! He prayed to the brother gods, God, Allah, Buddha, Xenu, anyone who would listen. He begged them to take him from the hands of this monster. He didn't want to lose Lev or his father. He didn't want to lose everything again.

He didn't want to die!

Then, the man lifted his hand off the coin, still obscured from Jethro's view.

Silence…

The man locked eyes with Jethro as he made his judgment. Suddenly,

Snap!

A branch crashed into him as he plummeted to the ground, holding onto Ocker's limp body for dear life.

Snap! Crack! Snap!

The tree made an effort to break their fall, but still,

Crash!

It was far from a gentle landing, mighty painful too if his leg had anything to say about it. But they were alive, and that's what mattered.

Jethro used what little adrenaline he had left and pried himself off the cracked ground, putting the unconscious Ocker into awkward carry. Looking down, he made the mistake of looking at his hand; it was a mangled thing of flesh and broken bones, and it hurt like a bitch.

He gritted his teeth, hissing in pain as he reset the non-broken fingers to their proper place one by one. He then took off his tie, using it as a makeshift covering.

It was inadequate, but it kept his hand together until they reached a hospital.

The park woods were deathly quiet. There was no sign of the creep ever existing outside of the damage to the tree next to him. They were gone without a trace.

Taking deep, shuttering breaths to build his resolve, Jethro started limping his way out of the park's woods. A small part of this mind had him relate this experience to another where he carried Lev back to a burning-

He ended his train of thought right there. Now was not the time to bring back trauma. He still had a responsibility to protect someone's life, regardless of how… distasteful that someone's opinions might be.

Soon enough, they reached the edge of the trees, and civilization was within sight, much to Jethro's relief. Each step seemed to get exponentially harder, and his eyes threatened to glue themselves shut. The closer he was to salvation, the stronger these effects were.

When he had reached the road, his mind didn't even register the familiar red blur rushing to catch his falling body. All that he was able to do was collapse into whatever was supporting him.

Once again, his mind went into the gentle good night.

…

Jethro Carter, a little boy of 7, suddenly woke up with a quiet scream in his throat. Ever since his friend had shown him some old scary movie, "The Conjuring" or something, he had been getting nightmares. Taking a deep breath, he calmed down enough to notice how dry his mouth was.

Deciding to get himself a glass of water, he got out of bed and tiptoed to the kitchen. There, he quietly got a glass out and filled it up. Drinking it all in a few large gulps, he gently put the glass down into the sink so as to prevent it from waking his grandpa.

Listening closely, he noticed that the living room TV had been making some noise. His curiosity overcame his fear and he snuck on over to see what was one. He peeked around a corner to see his grandfather watching a cartoon of some sort.

"Issei, please take my virginity…" A voluptuous and very naked girl pleaded, grabbing onto a blushing boy. The words weren't in English, however - the girl said it in the same weird gibberish mom talked in sometimes - which meant that Jethro didn't understand most of it, so he just read the subtitles to save time.

"Wha…" A boy on the sputtered.

"Grandpa, what are you watching?" Jethro finally spoke up, confused about what was happening on the TV.

"OH SHIT!" Grandpa shouted, accidentally flinging the remote high into the air.

The old man fumbled it in a panic, finally managing to a grip on it after a bit of juggling. He switched apps at lightning speed; now the tv played an old episode of Doraemon.

"Nothing Jet!" His grandfather quickly explained.

"But-" Jethro tried to speak up.

"No buts, nothing! You saw nothing, and you will tell your father nothing, understood?" Grandpa ordered, "Or he'll kick my ass…"

"Uhh… okay, grandpa…" Jethro's eyes squinted in suspicion; the old man was hiding something.

Trying to distract Jethro into forgetting, he patted a spot on the couch. It worked, since Jethro soon brushed it off, got up, and sat down next to them. It wasn't often that he got to spend time with grandpa like this, since they were usually asleep during the day (Grandpa called it being a night owl, dad called it being a "lazy fuck", whatever that meant). So, Jethro eagerly took the opportunity to watch a cartoon with him.

"Now, why are ya up so late?" Grandpa asked in a mock-scolding tone.

"Had a nightmare again…" Jethro leaned into the old man, his large beer gut acting as a comfy pillow. The old put his arm around the boy in a comforting embrace.

"Yeah, that's what ya get when you watch scary stuff." Grandpa said, "It messes with your brain and gives ya the heebie-jeebies."

"But grandpa, you watch weird stuff too, like that cartoon with the naked lady-" Grandpa cut him off right there.

"You're not allowed to watch that until you're older, Jet. That show's for grown-ups only, like me." The old man proudly huffed.

"But it was a cartoon, aren't cartoons for kids?" Jethro tilted his head, wide eyes conveying genuine confusion.

"First of all, sonny, that was no cartoon, that's an anime…"

"A-ni-me?" Jethro pronounced the word syllable-by-syllable.

"Sheesh, here I was thinking your mother would expose you to the wonders of Japanese culture." Grandpa muttered, "Yes, anime…"

Grandpa then went into a long passionate rant about the genre and Japan in general. Daddy taught him to smile and nod when grandpa went into a tangent, so that's what he did. Random Japanese words went into one ear and out the other.

"You understand now?"

"Uh, yeah." Jethro lied with a nod.

For the next half-hour, the two quietly watched Doraemon. When an episode ended, Jethro had something on his mind, "Uh… Grandpa?"

"Yes, Jet?"

"Why does daddy have to leave for so long?" Jethro referred to the tour that his father was mandated to take. Apparently, it had something to do with bad people on the Polish-Russian border*.

"Well," The old man scratched his scruffy beard, "When you're in the army like daddy is, sometimes you have to do some things no matter what."

"But why?" Here comes every parent's favorite task, breaking the why-loop.

His grandpa snorted, "Because very bad things would happen if he didn't."

"But why can't he just avoid them and come back home?"

The old man was close to snickering, "That's the thing, sonny, some things are unavoidable. And when you run into such things, you have to roll with the punches and keep moving forward…" The old man paused, "Also, if he left now, his mean bosses above would give him a thing called a court martial, and daddy would be in jail for a long time."

Jethro pouted (unaware of how adorable he looked at the moment) at that remark, "The army stinks… I'm never going into it."

His grandpa broke into full-on chuckling, "That… is a very smart decision."

The room fell silent as the next episode played. They watched and enjoyed it, but soon enough, Jethro started to get sleepy.

"Ah, right, you gotta wake up for school tomorrow," Grandpa stroked Jethro's hair as the boy went in and out of consciousness, "Sorry 'bout that."

"Hmm…" The boy tiredly hummed in response.

Gently, the old man picked up and carried the boy to his bedroom, tucking him into bed. He then slowly walked out, hovering just out the door.

"Goodnight, Jet." His grandfather waved.

"Night, grandpa…" The boy slurred as the door closed softly.

"Phew… -n't have that hap… since… was in primary school…" Jethro half-heard his grandpa mutter in the hallway.

Finally surrendering himself to exhaustion, he instinctively gripped his blanket tightly and fell asleep.

…

Jethro slowly pried his crusted-over eyes, calmly waiting until his vision unblurred. His ears soon twitched as they suddenly became aware of the noise around them.

Boop. Boop. Boop.

It was a heart monitor.

He was in a hospital.

He rolled over and noticed that there was a fellow patient, one with orange hair. Seems like he was stuck with Ocker for the time being. Looking back, he caught sight of a candy bar with a note attached. He snatched both the note and the candy bar with haste.

You better be thankful; I carried your skinny ass all the way here. Let it be known that I told you so! -Lev

Jethro snorted.

Yeah, it really was on him that he was in this situation. He guessed the lesson learned here was "don't be a hero," or something like that. Not like he was going to listen or anything…

However, since he was not one to reject free food, he quickly ripped open the wrapping and devoured the chocolate with gusto.

"hrrr…" Well, good times couldn't last forever. Now his fellow patient was stirring himself awake,

Ocker took a good glance at their surroundings, "What the hell did I drink last night?" Ocker then rolled over, meeting eyes with Jethro, "Oh… you…"

"Hello, Sunshine." Jethro happily greeted. He could see the indignant annoyance creep up in the other's eyes.

"…What are you doing here?" Ocker somehow managed to emit an aura of smug superiority, even though they were both clad in hospital gowns.

"Oh I don't know…" Jethro sarcastically responded, "maybe it's because I'm injured too. Shocking, I say."

Ocker opened his mouth, but Jethro spoke over, "If the next words out of your mouth don't include 'thank' and 'you', I'm-"

"I'm not going to thank you, faunus." Ocker interrupted.

Jethro raised a finger, "Okay… I fell for that one. But still, you're only alive because I was there. Would you rather have me let Norman Bates choke you out?"

"Norman what? I do not owe you a gods-damned thing!" Ocker fired back, "I could have handled it myself, thank you very much!"

"Oh, 'handle it yourself', huh? Well, he was certainly handling your chicken-ass neck, Mr. Übermensch."

"Silence, I do not wish to hear any more of your dribble." Ocker waved him off.

"Too bad, Sweatheart! You're stuck in here with me." Jethro mocked, "You're gonna listen to me all day, and you're gonna love it."

"I said shut it, Jethro Caspi! Gods, you're worse than your father." Ocker growled.

"Holy shit, you know my name!? I'm so honored that you think of me in that way. I will treasure this moment forever." Jethro "thanked" him.

"Don't twist my words, vermin. You're still inferior to me."

"Wrong type, genius. I'm a canid, not a rodent. Check the ears." Jethro wiggled said ears. He was no longer enjoying this argument. In fact, his nerves were starting to fray.

"I care not what type of subhuman you are. You faunus are all the same in my eyes." Ocker dismissed.

Jethro had enough.

"Well, you sure as hell should! 'Cause my family of 'subhumans', as you like to call them, are the only ones keeping your damn mine alive. And in case you forgot," Jethro pointed at himself, "I'm the one who saved your life. Not your precious SDC, not some schmuck of a guard, nor any other yokel,me! I could have left you to be choked and skull-fucked by that creep, but I didn't! Because I had the common decency, which you sure as hell don't have, to step in and not let people die in my sight! Now shut the fuck up before I start making you regret being alive!"

Finally, Ocker decided to shut his trap, much to the relief of Jethro. For the next hour, they grumbled at each other, not saying a word. However, that silence was broken when a young nurse walked through the door.

"Mr. Ocker, a letter for you." She handed him the envelope before quickly shuffling out.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Jethro decided to peek at what's going on, only to see Ocker's pale face. He watched as the man slowly opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. Using his height, he angled himself so that he could read it.

Schicksal hat dekretiert, dass Ihr Dasein werden länger dauern, Herr Ocker. Verschwende nicht es. -Ihr-wisst-schon-wer

It was in Classical Atlesian (aka German) for some ungodly reason, but thankfully, his father knew enough to teach it to him. He couldn't parse out some parts, but with the context provided, he could piece it together:

Fate has decreed that your life shall last longer, Mr. Ocker. Do not waste it. -You know who

…Well wasn't that comforting.

"That's from the creep, isn't it?" Jethro asked.

Ocker decided to stay silent.

"So, are ya gonna tell me why that creep is after ya?" Jethro recalled the man's actions, comparing it to the types of people he remembered running into in the war, "'Cause that ain't regular psycho behavior, that's hired psycho behavior. Those types have a scary amount of self-control. So, tell me, who wants you dead?"

Ocker still remained quiet…

"So, you're not gonna tell-?"

"-I don't know." Ocker interrupted, "I just… I don't know…"He threw his hands up in the air, "Why do you care so much? I thought I made my position on your kind clear…"

Jethro scoffed, "I don't know, I guess I have morals or something… Crazy, I know."

Ocker squinted; he was even more confused. Why would a faunus want to protect him?

"Though, those morals of mine only get me so far… Here's my offer. After we're out of this hospital, you stay over at my place under the protection of the Sunrise Corporation, and in exchange," Jethro rubbed his hands a bit, "You pay a little more cheddar on those dust shipping jobs."

Somehow, Ocker knew that this was coming.

Jethro continued, "Your penny-pinching doesn't pay jack considering all the bandits hovering around our trucks like flies to dogshit."

"As 'kind' as that offer is, I'm going to have to reject it." Ocker snubbed.

"Jesus Christ, you wanna take your chances out there alone, with that nutjob out there!? C'mon, I'm trying to offer you an out, stop being a prideful moron!"

"Okay, okay! Fine! I'll take your damn deal!" Ocker relented. What he didn't notice was Jethro fiddling with his scroll, "Also… What's with all those names? Are they part of some rock band or something?"

Oops…

"Oh, uhh… sure," Jethro waved him off. Please ignore that, please ignore that, please ignore that!

Ocker took a good look at Jethro, and quietly scoffed, "Whatever, you lunatic…"

Those were the nicest words Jethro was ever going to get from this human.

…

Jethro took a good look at his newly repaired hand; it was still strange having aura, knowing that you can heal from injuries that would have been otherwise fatal or debilitating on Earth. Some part of him couldn't help but feel frustrated at how useful this could have been during the war.

He looked all around the lobby and sat down on the loneliest free chair, waiting for his new "client", Ocker, to follow. Minutes later, his "prayers" were answered, and the man walked up and sat on a nearby seat with an arrogant huff. While this attitude might have been cute on someone like that Schnee girl, it was irritating at best on grown man.

Unsurprisingly, like the majority of Remnant's population, the man didn't have his aura unlocked, so he still had many bruises. Which included the black and blue hand marks that covered their neck. Fortunately, or unfortunately, no bones were broken, somehow.

Now that he thought about it, how the hell was Ocker even physically able to speak with those throat bruises? Was it sheer racist spite against the faunus that he couldn't shut up?

It was quite the mystery.

"What do you think you are looking at?" Ocker inquired snobbishly.

"Someone with more words than sense." Jethro shot back, "Now shut it. Talkin' with a throat like that ain't good for your health."

Ocker raised his hand up and gently poked his own massive set of bruises, before immediately flinching in pain. He used what braincells he had and remained silent, not snapping back with some smart comment. Hallelujah.

The two quietly sat in the lobby, waiting for the company transport to pick them up. To pass the time and stave off boredom, Jethro started snooping through Atlas' police database. There, he found an anomaly: there was no police report about the incident.

No mention about the guard that died, no obituary, no investigation, no news reports. It was like it never happened.

What the hell?

This was seriously concerning, as it could only mean one thing: somebody was covering for the creep. Somebody with some form of authority over Atlas' law enforcement or the ability to sneak in and change records on a dime.

Somebody who was extraordinarily dangerous.

Jethro stewed in that thought as a healthy paranoia started to overtake him. He was mentally prepared to always have eyes on his back, not letting the enemy surprise him. He wasn't as good as Lev when it came to surveillance, but he was still decently competent.

After another 10 minutes of waiting, an armored jeep drove in and parked outside. That was their cue.

He got up and made his way to the car, with an unsure Ocker trailing behind. As he left the hospital, he subconsciously hoped that his insurance would pay for the visit, before realizing that he wasn't in America anymore. Some habits never die.

Outside, it was quite cloudy, but not enough to not be able to tell the time. He guesstimated it to be around 6-7-ish at the moment-

-He stopped being idle and went into the car, now was not the time to dilly-dally.

"What's the status on Lev?" Jethro asked as soon as he put on his seatbelt.

"Pissed." The driver, Chaz, responded laconically.

"Fantastic," Jethro intoned.

The jeep roared as it started, the vibration rattling all occupants to the bone.

"Oh, forgot to tell ya," Jethro turned to Ocker, "This is a military surplus vehicle. Not exactly built for comfort."

Ocker just furrowed his brow before the next bump snapped him out of it. Along the way to the hotel, the jeep made certain that they felt every pothole in their spines.

…

Outside the hotel, Lev gave quite the warm greeting, "Didn't I tell you not to come crawling back to me?"

Wasn't he so friendly? Jethro thought so…

"Thanks for the candy bar." Jethro responded nonchalantly, "It was almost worth dying for…"

"Gods-damn it, Jet…" Lev gritted his teeth as he quickly approached Jethro. He clenched his fist, looking like we was about to beat him up to a pulp, before suddenly…

…engulfing the skinny faunus teen in a crushing bear hug.

"Ow, ow, ow! Ribs! Ribs! RIBS!" Jethro cried out flailing, Lev immediately let go once he realized the pain his friend was in, "They're still bruised you gods-damn neanderthal!"

"Then maybe you shouldn't go out by yourself next time!" Lev jabbed Jethro's gut, causing him to double over. Jethro heard a snicker from Ocker over the spectacle, but a nasty glare from Lev put an end to that quite quickly.

Meanwhile, as the two continued bickering, Moses gave Ocker the blankest stare. Not one word came out of him.

Eventually, the bickering petered out and everyone made their way into the hotel. As usual, Moses went into his room, while it was decided that Ocker would be safer staying with the boys.

Jethro swiped the card, and the door unlocked, letting them in the room. The two went straight to settling on their beds, Jethro checking for something underneath, while Ocker on the other hand,

"Excuse me, I need to use the restroom." Went straight to the bathroom. He clearly wanted to keep interactions with the "filthy faunus" to a minimum, and was looking for any excuse.

The faunus boy checked his watch and knew that it was around dinner time. He went to the kitchenette and started pulling things out the fridge.

"How do you tolerate that prick?" Lev asked from his bed, "The few minutes I spend with him before a dust shipment is excruciating to go through. Hell, even though he got screwed over by getting nothing intact, he still took our hometown from us." Lev's face scrunched at that last sentence; even though it had been years since the incident happened, he was still bitter at giving up Sunrise, even if it was a wreck. And to be honest, it stung at Jethro too.

It's always hard losing your childhood home, knowing that you can never go back there again. But, he supposed that was just a part of growing up, losing things from the past.

"You see, my dear friend, the answer is very simple," Jethro laid out the ingredients for his sandwich, "Money!"

Well, good thing he sold his soul to capitalism hell long ago, so he wouldn't have to think of such sentimental things.

"What?" Lev exclaimed, surprised and a little enraged, "You think that stingy bastard will keep his end of the deal!?"

"I can hear you!" Ocker's voice came from the bathroom.

"Shut up!" Lev yelled out before looking back at Jethro, "How are you going to make sure he sticks to his word?"

"That's the thing," Jethro stopped making his sandwich and pulled out his scroll, "I can make him stick to his word, because a recorded verbal contract is valid under Atlas law, which he follows as a representative of the SDC."

Jethro gave an oddly feline smirk as he hit play, "Okay, okay! Fine! I'll take your damn deal!"

"The full recording is on my scroll and on a back-up in server at an undisclosed location" Jethro put his scroll away and took a bite of his sandwich. As he started working on the other ham sandwich, he took in his friends awestruck look.

"You sneaky little bastard…"

"Me? Little?" Jethro pointed to himself, "You're a half-foot shorter than me, midget."

Ah, ol' reliable: Screw with Lev by mentioning their height. Jethro had hit the 6'5" mark last week and it seemed that there were no brakes to the growth spurt train.

"And you weigh as much as wet paper towel, bonerack." Lev instinctively snapped back.

But, alas, Lev had a counter of his own: no matter how much muscle and weight Jethro put on, it never showed. It seemed that he was forever cursed to be a bundle of sticks, and that was a button that Lev took much pleasure in pushing.

"Alright, whatever," Jethro forced the conversation back on track before it snowballed into yet another argument, "The point is, if he wanted the bow out, he would have to fight both Atlas Law and SDC policy. Ol' Pornstache doesn't like it when his employees don't keep their end, especially when they are representing his company. An odd sense of integrity, that man… now if only he weren't such a piece of shit."

Jethro stuffed the second sandwich into a plastic bag and threw it to Lev.

"Amen…" Lev caught it, "But still… you and Uncle Moses are making deals with the devil, considering… well…" Lev made "ears" on the top of his head using his hands.

"Oh, yeah, right… Slave labor," Jethro took another bite and swallowed, "Thank the Brother Gods that I got rid of my moral compass long ago."

"How is that a good thing?"

"Money." Jethro stated flatly.

"Fair point…"

…

A man sat in an old car near a gas station parking lot, reviewing some files with a flashlight. This man was a normal man… at least on paper. His cover, as of right now, was a businessman from Argus, named Solomon Stilipoios, who worked for Aurelian Electronics. His patron arranged the paperwork behind this hidden identity, and he executed it with his trademark precision.

His assigned target was a higher ranked employee of the Schnee Dust Company, one Russell Ocker. Apparently, his patron believed that having this target alive went against their interests, and so he paid a generous amount to dispose of him.

Unfortunately, in his first attempt to execute his duty, an unexpected variable came in the form of one Jethro Warren Caspi. In his attempt to regain control of the circumstances, killing a guard in the process, the variables deviated enough that his moral code had gotten in the way.

Therefore, he used his only loophole, letting fate decide if they were to live or die. If fate decided that they die, then it would be no fault of his own. He would just be enacting the world's will. If fate decided that they live as it did in that situation, he would have to leave and regroup once more.

His patron expressed their disappointment with his initial failure, but they were forgiving enough not to cancel immediately. Instead, they extended the deadline by a day, and gave him more control on how Ocker was to be eliminated.

As of a few hours ago, that little note he had written to the hospital should have frightened Ocker enough for them to seek protection under Sunrise's contractors. Right where he wanted them to be.

He started the car and started driving.

Soon enough, he was outside the hotel.

Solomon strutted into the hotel with the confidence of a particularly well-off yuppie, making sure to add just a twinge of arrogance in his steps to make it all the more convincing.

"I have a reservation under Solomon Stilipoios…" He approached the counter with a cocky smile.

The clerk quickly checked on their holographic screen, and all the records seemed to line up. They quickly gave Solomon the room key. "Here's your card, sir. Your room's number is 13 on floor 20. Have a nice night!"

"Thank you." Solomon eagerly took the card.

Solomon went straight to the elevator, "not noticing" as a coin fell out of his pocket. In the elevator, he quickly selected all the basement levels before suddenly "noticing" something missing. He stopped the elevator door from closing last second and rushed out to retrieve the missing coin.

"Phew… almost lost my lucky coin." He sighed, wiping the sweat off his brow.

The clerk stared at him as the elevator door closed.

"Oh… shame… Look's like this coin wasn't so lucky after all…" Solomon looked around the empty lobby, "Look's like we have some time to waste." Solomon looked around, "How about a game of chance?"

"Uh, sir. I'm afraid I can't accommodate you on that-"

"Oh, no no no… It's fine. I'm sure you have a minute to spare," Solomon then flipped the coin and hidden it on the back of his hand, "Heads or tails, call it."

"Sir?" The clerk's head tilted slightly, not understanding what Solomon was going on about.

"C'mon, just call it." Solomon's smile started to become strained.

"Sir, I'm afraid I have other things-" The clerk made the mistake of looking into Solomon's eyes.

He saw things that no human should ever see in those eyes. They were murky brown voids, ready and able to suck all life from those in their gaze.

"Call it." Solomon barked out, no longer smiling.

"T-tails…" The clerk looked away, taking in a shuddering breath.

Solomon revealed the coin, heads.

"Shame… seems like I was right… this coin is no longer lucky."

Suddenly, before the clerk had a chance to react, Solomon used his semblance to crush the clerk with 30G's of force. The poor person died as all their bones cracked under their own weight and their flesh pancaked onto the ground.

He checked the time and he estimated that he would have seven to ten minutes before the police would arrive. He also checked his pockets, making sure he still had his knife. Quickly, he speedwalked up to the elevator door.

The hydraulic doors then glowed purple, hissing and straining as they were forced apart in opposite directions. Behind them was revealed to be an empty shaft with he elevator far, far down underground. He jumped in, using his semblance to land on the opposite wall, and started walking his way up the building.

…

Jethro woke up in the middle of the night needing to answer nature's call. Quietly stumbling around Ocker, who was snoring on the couch, he made his way into the bathroom and did his business. As he washed and dried his hands, he felt a faint chill down his spine.

Something was really, really wrong…

…No, it wasn't the ham sandwich.

Bzzt, Bzzt.

His scroll buzzed on the sink counter, notifying him that someone suspicious had entered the building. He put in the passcode and tapped straight to the app and oh…

Oh shit!

Morbid curiosity took over and he examined what was on the security camera: There was blood all over the lobby and the clerk's body looked like it crushed by a giant boot. To the left of the screen was the barest hint of somebody walking straight into an empty elevator shaft.

His blood turned to ice and his heart went into overdrive.

He ran out to the main room, "Wake up! Wake the fuck up! He's fucking here!"

"Uwah…? Who's here?" Lev moaned as Ocker groaned.

"The psycho from the expo," Jethro dug under his bed and pulled out a briefcase. He then spoke into his scroll, "Chaz, Dave, wake my father up and bring him here, it's an emergency."

"Acknowledged!"

Lev shook his head, now fully awake, and Ocker now looked as pale as a sheet. From the briefcase, Jethro pulled out two compact rifles, some ammo, and some vests, throwing one of each at Lev. In record time, the two put on the equipment and readied their weapons.

Then, Jethro pulled out a high-strength line, first hooking it to his vest before anchoring it to a particularly sturdy section of the windowsill.

Bang bang bang!

The hotel door rattled under the hard knocking.

Well, that was quick. Too quick…

It should have taken at least another minute to get Moses all secure. This raised alarm bells in Jethro's head. Lev started to walk towards the door, but then instantly stopped as Jethro's expression as he mouthed, "Don't."

Jethro then spoke into his scroll once more, "Chaz, Dave, respond."

Silence.

"I repeat. Chaz, Dave, respond."

Still dead silence on the other end.

Bang bang bang!

The door rattled again…

Without warning, the peephole exploded as a bullet flew out and shattered the window behind him. The door started glowing purple.

"Jet, watch out!" Lev shouted.

Jethro flared up his aura.

Creak… Break!

The door flew off its hinges at lightning speed, slamming into Jethro and sending him plummeting out the window.

…

"Jet!" Lev watched helplessly as his friend was blasted out.

He immediately turned back towards the doorway to see the creep from the expo holding a knife to Uncle Moses' throat.

"What are you doing, you bastard!?" Lev yelled out.

"Enacting both my contract and fate's will." The man responded in a soft, sinister monotone. The man then pulled a coin out of nowhere with his other hand and flipped it, hiding it in his palm, "Call it, Mr. Caspi."

Lev was about to rush the man, and sensing that, the man pressed the knife into Moses' neck, drawing a drop of blood.

"Mr. Raahm, please do not interfere. Fate only has their eyes on Mr. Caspi for the moment." The man's unremarkable brown eyes stabbed into Lev's very soul. Meanwhile, Ocker slowly crawled back on all fours, trying to get behind Lev. He was a gibbering wreck, unable to speak coherent words.

"You son of a bitch," Moses muttered.

"Ah, the Untermensch doth protest too much…" The man gave a serpent's smile, "You're on the clock, Mr. Caspi. Call it, before I call it for you." The knife pressed a little deeper, drawing out some more blood.

Moses took a hissing breath, "…Tails."

The man opened his palm, "Well, seems like this coin isn't so unlucky after all. Congratulations, Mr. Caspi, You'll live to see another day. Unfortunately, though…" The man lifted the knife from Moses's throat as he pocketed his coin. Moses collapsed onto the ground, panting. Lev instantly started to rush towards the man, moving to disarm.

"…The same can't be said about Mr. Ocker." The knife started to glow purple, and the man was about to throw.

Lev intercepted the attempted throw and kicked the hand, forcing the man to drop the knife. Unfortunately, the knife was still under the man's semblance. It flew struck Ocker right in the abdomen.

"Ahhhhh! Ahh! Ahhhhh!" Ocker screamed in agony as blood spurted out of his stomach.

Stopping in shock of what he had done, Lev didn't notice as gravity suddenly shifted, causing him to fly up to the ceiling with the force of Jupiter.

When he regained his wits, he realized that he was trapped. Try as he might, he couldn't pry himself off the crushed plaster regardless of how much aura enhanced his strength. He was helpless as the man casually pilfered his rifle right from his hands.

Then, out of nowhere, Moses tried to sucker punch the man from behind, but was rewarded with a swift liver shot, knocking him down. Jethro's dad groaned and drooled in pain, unable to do anything. The man slowly stepped next to Ocker.

"You know, there are many tales about intrepid heroes fighting against destiny, raging against the heavens. And in all of those tales, all that it would accomplish was making their end all the more excruciating," The man mused at Lev, "for they were the ones to bring it about in the first place."

The man aimed the gun.

Ocker shivered in place, frantically muttering his final plea, "Please… no… I have a family… I don't want to die…"

Bang!

In an instant, Ocker's brains were splattered all over the floor. Lev stared blankly in disbelief. His mind couldn't process the carnage that was happening in front of him.

"All you have accomplished here is make his end all the more terrible." The man jumped and landed on the ceiling, looming right over Lev, "You could have done nothing, and it would have been painless… natural. But you had to deny him even that basic decency. Shame on you."

Lev could only take a shuddering breath as shock grew into anger and fear.

"Perhaps you still harbored feelings about him taking over your grandfather's precious mine. How he stole your birthright…" The man teased, "Maybe fate wanted to give some comeuppance on your behalf. Come on, you love this."

"You lying son of a bitch!" Lev growled.

"I am many things, Mr. Raahm, but a liar is not one of them." The man gestured to the cooling body below, "Look at him,"

"No-" Lev tried to refuse.

The man grabbed his jaw and forced his gaze towards the body.

"Look at him and look into your own heart. Tell me, do you feel remorse?"

Lev finally looked at the body, blinking away tears that were blurring his vision. Straight ahead of him, he saw the lifeless eyes of man under him; and as much as it horrified him, he didn't feel anything.

He didn't feel anything! WHY!?

"See, when you wish for it, even subconsciously, fate gives you the means…"

The room was silent, only broken by Lev's sobs. The only thing he could do was let tears fall and splat onto the body below.

Meanwhile, the psychopath jumped off the ceiling and landed on the ground with unnatural grace.

"But as fate giveth," The man pulled out and flipped his coin again, "Fate can taketh away."

As the man hid the coin once more, he tapped on his chin in mock-pondering, "Hmm… I think I'm going to choose heads this time. You folks take too long on calling it anyway." The man glanced at the landed coin, nodding as he pocketed it once more.

"So long, may fate never cross our paths again." The man slipped out the door without so much as a sound.

Lev languished as he laid aloft, before gravity suddenly switched and sent him plummeting down onto the unclean ground, barely missing the body down below. Then, his ear picked up on glass shards being knocked away and turned, only to see Jethro clearing a way back into the apartment.

The faunus boy stumbled his way in as he unhooked the line from his vest. He took a gander at the state of the room and at the cooling body in the center, "Fuck me, what a mess…"

That was certainly an understatement.

*Belarus and Ukraine got annexed by Russia around the 2020-30s.

AN: Being Lev is suffering. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, this is likely going to be the last chapter in 2021. See you in 2022!