Had a few people ask me what I think of the horrible crap going down in RT at the moment; I don't actually follow the company, or watch RWBY for last few seasons, but I can't say (after reading up on it) that it surprises me. The culture of a lot of companies founded by content creators seem to end up being run like this, likely because they have no formal training or experience in running a business and end up running it like a discord group. Still, I think it's disgusting not paying a RWBY VO for their work, and even more disgusting knowingly creating a nickname that would be used by the whole community that was a SLUR against said person (especially since the community never knew, but the person was stuck hearing it all the time). Then forcing them to put up with it because they're an employee and can't speak up. To even think it would be "okay" to do that is nonsense and bullshit, and it was clearly malicious. I'm sure it'll be the usual excuses of "it seemed funny at the time" and "I'm trying to be better" with no action taken.

It's disgusting, it's childish, it's unprofessional, and I wish it surprised me. It doesn't.


Cover Art: Kirire

Chapter 26


"Are you talking about the balance between the world's ignorance and the anomalies or-"

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?"

"I think your exact words were to close my stupid mouth," said Blake, seeking to put the woman with the bland expression on the spot.

"And yet your ignorant mouth continues to flap," said Coral, sounding not quite annoyed, but not quite emotional either. Impatient, Blake would call it. As if Coral wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere else, then wasting time talking with her. "Five years. That is how long I've spent trying to keep my brother sane, and you're threatening to ruin that in just five weeks. If he had asked for my approval to hire you before, I would have denied it on the spot."

Blake's frown grew as the abuse continued to heap up on her. She wanted to stay silent to avoid any more insults, but that didn't seem to be slowing things down any. Insulted if she kept quiet and insulted if she spoke up. Blake snarled out, "What's your problem with me?"

"Arrogant as well as stupid." Coral shook her head. "I don't care about you at all. You're an insignificant spec on the world's existence, made only slightly more interesting because of your distant relation to an anomaly. Even that isn't enough to make me care enough to have a problem with you. My issue is the problem you represent to my foolish little brother, who would stick his hand in the fire again even though it burnt him the first time."

"Is this about him hiring me? Why? You have a whole bunch of employees yourself. Isn't it hypocritical to-"

"Are you so impatient that you can't shut up and have something explained to you?" interrupted Coral. "Or do you enjoy throwing guesses out into the wind and hoping one will stick? It's not intelligence if that's what you believe."

Blake's face burned an angry shade of red. "You're constantly insulting me."

"No. You are constantly getting insulted. I am stating facts. This-" Coral waved a finger between the two of them. "This is not a conversation. This is me informing you of something. Or trying to, if you would stop feeling the need to interject and pretend you have even the slightest inkling of where this is going." She paused, and Blake bit her lip, angrily holding in the deluge of words that wanted so desperately to come out. Coral nodded, satisfied. "Better."

Smug bitch, thought Blake, but this time didn't say anything.

"Jaune is special. Different. Vulnerable. You lack the clearance to know why, or even to be close to him in the first place, but if you are half as intelligent as you seem to believe you are then you should be able to figure it out from what I explained of how people are turning into anomalies, and the factors they share."

Coral's tone implied, or made it clear, that she didn't think Blake smart enough to figure it out at all. Well, screw her. "It's because he doesn't have aur-" A knife flew out and Blake ducked wildly, tearing herself off the seat when it quivered into the wall behind her. "What the-"

"I am done telling you to be silent and listen," said Coral, not even bothered by what she'd done. Again, she came across incredibly impatient rather than angry, and it felt like it was because she couldn't gather enough interest in Blake to care that prevented that anger forming. To Coral, she was a pest, an annoyance, but nothing worth getting upset over. Even if that meant throwing a knife at her. "Sit down, shut up, and stop feeling the need to show off what meagre intellect you have. It won't impress me."

Not that it didn't, but that it wouldn't, and that it never would. Blake bristled and crossed her arms and refused to take the seat on principle. She hadn't seen where the knife came from. A holster under the desk in case of an ambush? Blake watched the woman's hands carefully.

"Jaune is vulnerable," continued Coral. "And he will forever be vulnerable. He is also ignorant in some ways, and for his own safety. These cases, these people turning into anomalies, they are not new." The revelation had Blake opening her mouth. The flicker of a knife had her closing it. "ARC Corp has known about these cases for over a decade now, and I have been studying them exclusively, under direct orders from Director Nicholas Arc himself."

Not father, Blake noted, but she wisely stayed silent. Coral was telling her what she wanted to know anyway, which she supposed was the whole point of having her not waste time asking for the information that was forthcoming. Coral set the knife down, though she didn't take her fingers from it. The warning was clear.

"I spoke of the events that propagate the transformation, the switch that is flicked inside when an event of sufficient and traumatic experience takes someone. For a child, this may be less than for an adult, and for an adult of training and experience even less. A trained soldier's heartbeat stays low in times of action, and an operative of ARC Corp is more than a trained soldier. Our definitions of what startle and cause fear are slowly worn away, as constant exposure to tragedy, cruelty, monstrous acts and atrocities wears away at what might be called ethics."

Coral snorted, and the flicker of a smile appeared on her lips. It looked cruel, even amused, and Blake realised it was her real smile and that the ones before had been put on for Jaune's sake. "I never saw the need myself, nor the difference between what civilised people and monstrous anomalies. No. Do not comment. If I cared to hear your thoughts – and I do not – then I would have you give them."

Blake trembled on the spot.

"The point I am making is that there is little that can break an operative of ARC Corp. We can be frightened; we can be alarmed; we can be brought to moments of weakness; breaking us, however? Driving us to despair so deep that we lose our humanity? Difficult. Very, very difficult." Her eyes hardened. "But not impossible. Everyone can be broken. There is always some, small weakness, some chink in a person's armour, that can be used to shatter their mind. For some, it is as simple as torture. Others might break if those they seek to impress turn on or mock them. Not my brother. He has been taught to endure abuse; he has been taught to withstand criticism, isolation, pain, injury, abandonment and more." Coral smiled. "We all have. What is more difficult to teach is how to handle loss," said Coral. "Not impossible. It might surprise you to hear we were each given small animals when we were younger and taught to care and love them. Mice and rats. Sweet little pets."

"You were made to kill them, weren't you?"

Coral laughed. "I'll forgive the interruption this time. No, we were not. That would not teach loss, only to reject any bonds. No, we were given rodents as pets because their lifespan is short as it is, and because we would experience the deaths of beloved pets repeatedly. That was how we were taught to handle loss."

Not as brutal or as horrible as she'd imagined or feared, but, she supposed, effective in its own way. Blake had never owned a pet, but she'd seen many people weep over the loss of a long-time companion like a dog or a cat, and she understood the emotional bonds people had with them.

"Losing a pet is not the same as losing someone you love, however. Has Jaune told you of our mother?"

Blake kept her answer short. "Yes. That she died on a mission."

"Hmhmhm." Coral closed her eyes as she chortled. "Then he does not trust you fully yet. Or maybe he is afraid to admit it. Our mother did not die on a mission of her own; she died on a mission with Jaune; she died because he was not good enough, and because she gave her life to get him out."

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Blake brought a hand to her face and ran it down over her nose. That was the kind of deep and personal thing she really ought not to know about him, and certainly not without his permission. Coral didn't care. Of course she didn't.

"The others never quite forgave him it," said Coral, tilting her head as if confused by the fact. "The younger siblings especially. I suppose they were upset that they would not get the experience of going on missions with her, or of learning from her expertise and experience."

"Or," countered Blake, "They were upset because they loved her and were grieving."

Coral froze, fingers tapping her knife. She hummed. "Perhaps it's that. I wouldn't know. Either way, my poor brother lost his mind a little when it happened." She chuckled, and Blake wanted to slap her. "Our father found him screaming and ranting, trying to throw his life away on a petty attempt to avenge her. He had to be beaten unconscious just to get him away from the scene."

Had to be, or Jaune's father simply defaulted to that action? Blake took a deep breath and let it go, already uncomfortable, but certain she was about to feel much worse as the conversation went on. Or not a conversation, Coral had said. More of a lecture.

"That is his weakness unfortunately, the event that makes him crack. Loss, or guilt – I suppose he could feel that mother's death was his fault." Coral paused, and then added, "Which it was."

"His mother chose-" Blake dodged the knife. "Stop that!"

"When you learn. Mother did not choose to die. She chose death as preferable between hers or his, but "I will die today" was never her intention. Ergo, the fault is solely Jaune's. He knows this. I know this. Our siblings know it. Don't insult his intelligence by pretending otherwise. I guarantee he is smarter than you. Regardless, Jaune failed once, lost someone he loved once, and then broke apart because of it. His arms paid the price."

Blake stilled. "He transformed…?"

"Not fully. Partially. His arms were incinerated along with our mother, but when he broke, when he shattered fully, he began to transform as those you have faced did. However, he stopped himself. Determination, refusal, iron will. No one can say which, but while he anomalously reformed his arms up to his shoulders – they had been burned off entirely – he forcefully halted his descent and the loss of his humanity." Coral smiled again, and again it was a cruel thing. "It amazes me. The only human to ever hold on, to ever reject it, and it is my little brother. He grew then in my eyes. He had always been an annoyance before, a pest, a waste of air that I desperately wished would stop trying to interact with me, but after that… well, I saw that he was more than us. More, perhaps, than even I could ever be. That, however, was not a common view among our family."

"They wanted him dead."

"Oh yes. Quite dead. Better to die a human than live with the threat of becoming an anomaly. Father would have killed him on the spot, if not for my intervention. I told him we could learn more, and that Jaune could be useful to discovering the truth of why people change. It was close," she admitted. "He had already pushed his sword into Jaune's chest." She tapped her breastbone. "He has a scar here, and to this day knows not where it came from. He assumed he took it when he fell and before he was rescued."

Instead, it came from when his father had been executing him, and before the woman in front of her stepped in to save him. Blake felt ice cold, and her legs were shaking. The thought of her own father doing that flashed through her mind, but she couldn't process it. Ghira would never raise a hand to her, and never a bladed weapon. It didn't surprise her as much as it ought to that Jaune's would.

"Since then, his life has been in the balance," said Coral. "He has been special. Different. Less and yet more at the same time. Less trust, more responsibility, less kindness, more training, less love, more attention. Harsher training. What else for someone who has broken once before? Jaune was put into the harshest, and the worst training, all to build his mental fortitude. Some might even call it torture." Coral paused, thought, and then said, "In some countries it is listed as such. It was done to harden him, and it worked. But now you arrive. You are a troublesome, naïve, little girl. You show up, you worm your way into his life, and you grow closer with him."

"Friendship isn't a weakness."

"It is when he fails to protect you, and you die an agonising death in front of him, and when he takes the blame for that upon himself and is reminded of our mother's death," snapped Coral. "Until then? No, you are a strength. You are useful. Dead, you are not. You are a piece of glass in his body, best left there because it stems the bleeding. Jaune was to work alone, that was the plan, so that he could never feel the loss of losing someone again, and that only he would die if the worst came to pass. Now, you are here, and you're a vulnerability. You're fortunate father has been too busy to come and remove you himself. He would have, you know. He wouldn't have made it obvious or done it in front of Jaune, but you would have suffered a quiet accident, or had a change of heart, and moved far, far away before he could become attached. That's not an option now – Saphron saw that much herself and came ranting to me about it."

It's not my fault, thought Blake, and wanted to say, but she knew it wouldn't matter. This wasn't about fault; it was about the reality of the situation. This was how things were, like it or not, and she had to deal with it. Coral wasn't wrong there."He's the prison, then? He keeps it-"

"Don't romanticise this. Jaune is not some brave warden keeping a wicked monster at bay, nor a cage valiantly holding back a beast. He is the monster within; the bars are made of his will; the prison wardens are his sense of duty; the sentry towers are his committment to the Arc values; the walls are made of his belief in himself. He is everything at once, and the only thing keeping an anomaly with full knowledge of ARC Corp manifesting is his dogged belief that he is normal, and the strength of his mind. If that fails..." Coral trailed off. "It must not fail."

"Then what do we do about it?"

"A good question for once. There's nothing that can be done any longer. You retiring isn't an option with what you know, and you leaving to another office is liable to leave him confused and hurt. Even the smallest emotional imbalance can cause distress. About all you can do now is be aware of the fact, and act accordingly. Commit yourself to him. Bed him-"

"We're not romantically involved!"

"Neither are he and I, and yet I kiss him every time we meet," said Coral. "Even the smallest fraction of physical affection can bolster him. I've read about it."

You may have read it, but you clearly don't understand the nuance, thought Blake. Despite being older than her, Coral felt unusually out of touch with how feelings worked, especially love. She obviously felt that affection worked like pouring water into a glass, and that Jaune could be "topped up" with a kiss from his own sister and not think it weird. The fact he got all flustered when she did it proved it was a flaw in Coral and not in him. It's like she understands how it's supposed to work but doesn't fully grasp it. Even talking to her is weird.

It was the way Coral stared into her eyes constantly, the eye-contact too much and too constant to feel natural. It was the way she interrupted and spoke over her, and laid insults on her but then, in the next breath, didn't understand why Blake would feel insulted at all. It felt like Coral wasn't all there, or that she didn't get how social interactions worked. Little wonder then that she'd offer up something as crazy as saying Blake should fuck Jaune to keep him in a good mood, then act surprised when Blake had an issue with it.

"I'll keep the idea in mind," said Blake, instead of arguing. She'd keep the concept in mind and do her best to make sure Jaune was happy – as any good friend would – and not go as far as Coral seemed to think was best.

"Good. Keeping him sane has been a chore so far. No one else cares to. It would be easier in their minds, and fit their narrative, for him to break, go mad and be put down like a rabid dog. Only I cared enough to keep him in one piece."

Blake felt like saying she'd done a shitty job, but what did she know? Maybe Coral really was the reason Jaune put up with all the abuse all this time. Having at least one person who believed in you could make a difference, and it was better Jaune have his sister, no matter how messed-up she was, then have no one at all.

"You really love him, don't you?" asked Blake.

"No." Coral's answer was immediate, flat, and emotionless. It was also filled with confidence, and Blake was stunned. "I find him fascinating and want to see what will happen. He is also an outcast, like me, and it helps keep my family off my back to have him around drawing their attention. I can also get away with a lot more with him keeping them distracted." Coral tilted her head again, surprised, and asked, "Why? Did you think I loved him? You did seem to react unusually to the kiss. I'm not sure why. It was only a kiss and some tongue; if I thought it best, I would take him to bed myself. That doesn't mean there is any emotional attachment-"

Blake had heard enough. Teeth gritted, heart pounding, hands clenched tight, she turned and stalked away, pushed out the door and slammed it shut behind her. There was only so much of Jaune's twisted family that she could take, and Coral Arc had more than surpassed the quota.

/-/

Jaune was waiting outside in the foyer going over the documents Coral had provided when Blake came storming out, slamming the door behind her. He looked up, surprised for a moment, and then offered her a wry smile. "Coral got to you already, huh? I'm sorry about her. Whatever she said, however she said it, I'm sure she didn't mean it."

He was so dumb, so naïve, and so apologetic. Blake wanted to scream. "It's fine."

"Coral has always been… different. Unusual. She never had many friends growing up, or not many that stuck around. Her personality put them off – or her lack of one, they'd say." He shook his head. "I never got it myself. Sure, she's a little hard to understand and sometimes she speaks without thinking how her words will affect people, but that just makes her more honest. And, well…" He shrugged. "She's still my sister. I never wanted to leave her alone, especially not when everyone else did."

"A waste of air that I desperately wished would stop trying to interact with me."

"She's honest alright," said Blake, eyes closing. "Too honest."

"I always call it part of her charm. You just need a thick skin to get past the rest." Jaune laughed and closed the folder. "Plus, she's always looked out for me. Out of all my sisters, she's the one I'd trust most to have my back."

Because she was curious about him, and because she found him useful for distracting his family and perhaps, at best, because they were similar in being outcasts. Jaune obviously thought there was more. He thought Coral loved him. Loved him as none of his other family did. Blake's thoughts were in agony.

"Did she approve you?" asked Jaune, all smiles.

"I did," said Coral, coming through the doorway. Her face was flat, her eyes lidded, and she moved as if in a hurry. She didn't even acknowledge Blake's existence as she brushed by her and laid a hand on Jaune's bicep. "You chose an interesting employee. As annoying as Saphron's, in some regards, but at least loyal to you." She huffed. "They both ask stupid questions and try to guess the answers before being given them."

"You met Pyrrha?"

"Annoying girl," confirmed Coral. "Kept asking me why I didn't destroy anomalies, why I used them, whether I was aware of the danger." Her nostrils flared, and it was the first time she looked genuinely angry. "The brat acted as though she knew better, no doubt driven by Saphron's ideology. Unable to think for herself or form an opinion that wasn't spoonfed to her. Pathetic."

Jaune laughed. "I take it you didn't approve her?"

"As if they would ask my opinion in the first place. You are the only one who would consider my approval as a director worth seeking."

"I value your opinion."

Coral nodded. "You are not a fool, then."

Jaune loved her. It was clear as day. Brotherly love, sibling love, and maybe the love of an abused child clinging onto the first person to show him any affection. It was clear in the way his eyes shone, and how he spoke to and about her. He was protective of her. He was protective of a woman who saw him as a means to an end, and said person was the only one in his family who gave him any faith.

He looked, then, to her as Coral walked away. He gave Blake a huge grin, as if to ask what she thought of his sister. He's showing her off, realised Blake. He was proud of Coral and wanted to know her opinion. She was probably one of the few others who was close enough to him to have an opinion that mattered, and he was like a young child showing off his first friend to his mother, and desperately hoping they would get along.

"Well?" asked Jaune, all smiles and hope. "What do you think of her?"

Blake hated her.

Blake hated her the same way she hated almost everyone in ARC Corp.

"I like her." There was no way she could say what she felt. No way Jaune could know what Coral had said, and what she really felt inside. It would break him. "Your sister really cares about you," lied Blake, hating herself for every word, and hating Coral more for having made her aware of it. "Coral really loves you."

"Enough chatter." Coral came back. "If you want to assist in getting to the bottom of this transformation then what I need is a live subject. Inducing one isn't viable; there is simply no way to predict how much is too much when it comes to breaking someone." Killing Blake would do it, but Coral thankfully didn't seem prepared to take that step. Maybe because Jaune would kill her when he transformed. "The best you can do is head back to Vale, keep your eyes open and try to capture one alive. I have the other directors doing the same."

"The others don't do alive, though." said Jaune.

Coral snorted. "Exactly. You and I are the only ones who would care to put the effort in to do more than merely destroy, hence why I need you to procure a living specimen for me. Negotiate with them if you wish. I am prepared to offer shelter, sustenance, and accommodation to such a person, and to protect them from the rest of our family."

"Will your experiments kill them?" asked Blake.

"No. A living specimen is too valuable to let perish. That said, should you only have a body then by all means I will take it. Do try and capture some of their blood and keep it on ice, however. It goes bad so quickly."

"We'll do our best," promised Jaune. "You look after yourself as well. I don't like how the Schnee are taking such an interest in you."

"Trust me to care for my own concerns," said Coral, laying the palm of her hand on his cheek. She didn't lean in to kiss him this time, to both his and Blake's relief, but Jaune closed his eyes and smiled, leaning into her hand.

Coral's eyes met Blake's over his shoulder, flat and disinterested.

Blake hated her.

/-/

Qrow came out the subway tunnel with the world's worst grimace on his face, and a hand over his nose and mouth to block out the stench. "It's an abattoir down there," he told them. Damned massacre. Blood all over the trains, and everyone inside stabbed to death."

Yang was on her knees, still shaken from watching the little girl nearly cut her own head off. Ruby was shaken as well, but hadn't been so close, and had suspected – at the last second – that something was up. Her knees were still trembling a little, but she remembered her role and her suit and kept her voice steady. "Any survivors?"

"None." Qrow shook his head and stepped cautiously around the dead body on the concrete. The police were on their way, but, as huntsmen, it was their job to hold the scene. "Tonight has been a mess in more ways than one."

"Tell me about it," muttered Ruby.

"I-I didn't stop her," wheezed Yang. "I could have-"

"Firecracker, no." Qrow stepped in, took hold of Yang's shoulders, and pulled her round and into his chest. She clung to him desperately. "No one could have predicted that would happen, let alone react in time. If even Ruby didn't have the speed, if even I didn't react quick enough, then there's no way you could have. This isn't your fault."

"It was too fast even for me," agreed Ruby. She could see why Yang would blame herself, but she really shouldn't. The girl had gone for her, and Yang had been recoiling in shock, with no room to act to stop the suicide.

"I still-"

"You couldn't have done anything," said Qrow. "Hush."

"I can't believe there would be child serial killers…" Ruby trailed off, eyes growing wide as the body of the girl was nowhere to be seen. There was no blood either, only the knife on the ground. That, at least, was still bloody. "Uh. Uncle Qrow."

"What is-? Where did it go!? Shit, did she recover?"

He let go of Yang, who looked about in shock, then confusion, then hope. Ruby nipped it in the bud. "No way. That girl was dead, and where did all the blood even go? Even if she got up and walked away, there would still be the blood from before." Unless. Ruby gasped. "Anomaly!" She gasped again. "Oh crap, the police!"

Witnesses, questioning, people to wonder where the body had gone. Cover up! Ruby looked around desperately.

"Um. Um. T-The girl is a serial killer with a Semblance, and we killed a clone. It's a clone-based Semblance." She jumped on the spot, pointing at Qrow and Yang. "That's the story."

Yang looked confused. Qrow looked annoyed.

"Ruby, what?" asked Yang.

"She wants to cover this up as part of her part-time work," explained Qrow. "Pretend it never happened-"

"The murders happened," said Ruby. "But how are we meant to explain that the girl who did it literally disappeared before our eyes? Who is going to believe that? They'll probably get suspicious and think we had a hand in this!"

Yang was too shaken to listen. "Uncle Qrow…?"

"Loathe as I am to admit it, Ruby makes a good point. Ozpin is going to want to hear about this, and murderous children might cause a panic." It wouldn't be much better with a normal serial killer, but at least then it wouldn't be broaching the subject of the anomalous before we can figure out what is happening."

Before ARC Corp could figure it out. Ruby had the sinking suspicion Qrow wanted to find this anomaly and help it, and that doing so wouldn't be very good for the people she'd killed. This was a killing anomaly, and an intelligent-killing anomaly that used its childlike features to get close to its prey. The police cars came pulling up and Qrow, as the only adult, moved over to discuss his findings with them. Ruby slid up to her sister instead.

"Hey Yang," whispered Ruby. Her sister turned to her. "Um. I guess you want to know more, right?"

"After what I just saw? Yeah, I think I betta. Especially if you're involved."

"Right. Yeah. I figured. Um." Ruby cringed. "What do you think of spiders?"

"Hate 'em. Why?"

"No reason. No reason. Just… might want to not hate them. Or be afraid of them."

"Ruby…"

"Just saying."


Next week, Jaune and Blake return home to Vale and get to see how Ruby totally hasn't made a mess of things in their absence. Definitely not. The secret of ARC Corp is totally safe, and the Containments Office totally isn't a complete rubbish pile.


Next Chapter: 24th October

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