William Carter was a man who had seen and been a lot of things. He had seen the Japanese bombing Pearl Harbor, pulling the United States into a worldwide war and momentarily pulling him away from his path to a Bachelor's degree in Engineering. He had been a spook in the CIA, where he made a name for himself by pretending to be other people in the USSR and Indochina. He had been an escaped refugee looking to start anew, a family man with a wife and seven children, and a drug trafficker down in Laos. He knew a thousand ways to kill a man, and four hundred ways to make it look like an accident. Barely anything shook him, barely anything fazed him.

Except, apparently, young naked women emerging out of the blankets of his previously-unoccupied bed. Because the instant he saw that happening in front of him, he freaked the hell out.

"Who are you?! How did you get in here?!" he shouted, drawing his pistol and pointing it at the intruder. The woman, who had been stretching as if awakening from a long slumber, suddenly grabbed the blanket and covered her exposed chest. "Hands in the air, now!"

The woman's silver eyes widened in shock. "You want me to do...that? But if I do that you'll see my -!"

"I said hands up!" repeated Carter. He clicked off the safety.

As bewildered as the intruder was, she seemed to recognize a gun well enough. She sighed and stepped out of the bed, letting the blanket fall as she did so. Carter's eyes glanced up and down the woman's figure professionally, checking for any hidden weapons. At his order, she turned around, and Carter finally clicked the safety back onto his pistol with a sigh.

"See?" snapped the woman as she snatched the blanket back up and wrapped it around her less-modest features, "Not hiding anything except a nice rack and a sweet ass. Now can you please give me some answers? And some clothes, too."

Carter chuckled wryly as he stood up. "I don't think you're in much of a position to make demands, young lady. Tell me...just where the hell do you think you are?"

The young woman hummed thoughtfully. "I don't know. Heaven?"

"Purgatory, more like. Let me give you a bit of context: you are currently in one of the most top-secret military installations in the United States, maybe even in the entire goddamn world. I had to pass several checkpoints just to even be able to look at this thing, I have to file a mountain of paperwork anytime I feel like I need to sneeze, and the only reason I'm here in the first place is because Director Faulke expects me to bring that briefcase to his little pow-wow so he can show off whatever's inside it to all his friends."

The woman glanced impassively down at the briefcase on the table, guarded vigilantly by two bottles of hard liquor. She returned her stare to Carter soon after.

"So unless you're part of the cleaning staff or you were hired by some idiot here trying to 'make it up to me', you'd better have a damn good reason why you were sleeping in my bed. So either you start talking...or I start shooting. Clear?"

The woman nodded fearlessly. "My name is Summer Rose, and I don't know how I got here. I have no intention to harm you, nor was I sent by anyone to my knowledge."

Carter raised an eyebrow at how...quickly this woman seemed to calm down. "Well, Miss Rose, in that case, I'll have to ask you to come with me to see the director. If he can't explain why you're here, then -"

Suddenly, a knock at his door. "Agent Carter," came a cold female voice.

Scooping his hat off the floor and back onto his head, he glared at Summer. "You. Hide. Now."

Summer gladly obliged, ducking underneath the bed. Carter went over to the door, stowing his gun in the holster hanging from his chest.

"Who wants to know?" he asked warily as he opened the door slowly.

"Your escort," came the reply as a female officer pushed past the door and into his room. "Director's orders."

Carter's eyes tracked the second uninvited visitor as she briskly walked past him. "I don't need an escort," he said pointedly.

"Well, you're getting one. How much have you been told?"

He pointed to the briefcase still being guarded by his alcohol-filled friends. "My orders are to deliver that case to Director Faulke. That is all."

The officer looked over at the briefcase, and nodded. "And you haven't even been the least bit curious to what's inside?"

Carter furrowed his brow. "Uh...no," he said plainly. Something's not right. First some woman shows up in my bed, and now this bitch is getting curious about the case. Either I'm magnetically attracting the ladies today...or something weird is going on.

Another nod from the officer. "Good. But I'll have to make sure…"

As soon as she started walking towards the case, Carter knew it wasn't the first option. He reached out and grabbed the officer's wrist, halting her stride.

"No one touches that case except Director Faulke...and me."

The officer lady scoffed. "We'll see about that."

Before Carter could react, the woman pulled a pistol out from her holster and shot Carter at point-blank range. The bullet tore through his chest, sending him flying back against the nearby wall. As his blood painted the white-painted walls, he was vaguely aware of the woman throwing the gun away and walking over to the briefcase.


Summer had to muffle a gasp as she saw the man - Carter, she guessed his name was - fly across the room, falling limply within her line of sight. She saw a pair of heels step in front of the table with the briefcase, pausing as she looked down at it.

"It's here," she heard the officer whisper, "this is it."

And with barely even a grunt of exertion, she slammed her fist down onto the briefcase, smashing it open with nothing more than her hand. Immediately a bright white light began to envelop the room, and the officer stepped back for a moment, seemingly taking in the brilliance.

But the thing that made Summer's eyes widen in fear was the face of the woman, as black fluid dribbled from her tear ducts down her face and as her eyes began glowing red. Her movements became mechanical, almost lifeless, and blood ran down her mouth and nose as she gazed into the light.

This isn't heaven, she realized, this is hell!


This wasn't the first time Carter had been shot, not even the first time he had been shot by a lady. After mentally blocking out the pain, he rose to his feet, shielding his eyes from the brilliance shining from the now-smashed briefcase.

He stepped up behind the woman, drawing his own pistol from its resting place. "Drop it!" he spat, pointing it squarely at the neck of the officer.

Unlike his first unexpected guest, this one was far less compliant. Instead of dropping whatever she had found in the case, she turned around stiffly, looking at Carter with bleeding, glowing eyes.

"What the hell -" was all Carter had time to say before the officer wordlessly reached out and clutched his throat, pushing him back into the wall and through a table. Then she slammed him to the floor, pushing all the weight down on his larynx and cutting off that vital flow of blood and oxygen that his brain constantly hungered for.

Slowly, but surely, the world started to go black.


Summer Rose could hide no longer.

Asshole or not, she could not let this man die. After all, she was - or had been - a Huntress. And Huntresses lived their lives in the service of protecting humanity.

And no matter how much it looked like a woman, the thing attacking Carter was not human. Not anymore at least.

So, armed with nothing but her own two hands, she rose up from under the bed and charged at the woman, shoulder-checking her and knocking her against the wall. Now the target of the rage, the officer slammed an elbow down on her spine before clawing and scratching, creating several red gashes across Summer's exposed back. Feeling blood seep through the gouged skin, Summer screamed out as she picked the woman up and suplexed her, hearing the satisfying crunch of bones snapping as the officer collided with the floor.

Despite having quite a few bones broken, the woman still reached out to grab Summer, who deftly slipped through the hold. Spotting the woman's discarded gun across the floor, she made a mad dash for it, only for the officer to clamp a bloody hand around her ankle. The Huntress fell to the ground hard, rolling over to put her arms up just as the deranged monster pounced on her, battering her defenses with a flurry of swipes and blows.

Why isn't my Aura protecting me? Summer's mind raced as the officer continued her assault, and why can't I use my eyes? I know they only activate in the presence of Grimm, but...if it isn't a Grimm possessing this woman, then what is wrong with her?

Her thoughts were cut short as the officer finally broke through her guard, clamping her vice-like grip around her neck. Summer's mouth limply hung open as she tried to gasp for air that would not come, her hands desperately searching for the abandoned gun. Eventually, she found it - her frantic fingers closed around the still-hot barrel of the pistol. With no time or ability to properly grab it, she settled for the next best thing - she whipped the gun's grip against the side of the woman's head, making her release her grip and clutch the gaping head wound. Now free to stand up and breathe, Summer aimed the pistol at the officer's head and fired three quick rounds right between the glowing eyes.

The woman's form finally stopped moving, and the light finally faded from the room.

Summer let out a shaky breath she hadn't even realized she had been holding, falling to her knees as she looked over the scene in front of her. Unsteady gasps and pained whimpers filled the silence created by the gunshot, her eyes widening with each terrifying thought that ran through her mind, crippling her and threatening to overwhelm her. But then her Huntress training kicked in, and she pushed those thoughts out of her mind as she narrowed her eyes, rising back to her feet and retrieving her torn bed sheet.

Right. There will be plenty of time to process what's going on later. Right now...do what I need to do to survive.

She took one more look at the dead officer, noticing the...strange clothes she wore. It almost looked like an Atlesian military uniform, except it was all black with a pencil skirt and a long-sleeved jacket pinned with various medals. Whoever this woman had been before tonight, she must have been quite a distinguished soldier.

Most relevantly, she noticed that the body shape of the woman appeared quite similar to her own.

Well...desperate times call for desperate measures.


"Mister Carter! Mister Carter, wake up!"

Carter awoke to a world of pain and a pair of silver eyes hovering over his own, as if scanning and looking for some sign of life.

"Julia?" He asked, dazed, "Is that you?"

"Julia? No...it's Rose. Summer Rose, remember?"

Carter groaned, making a motion to pick himself up. The silver-eyed woman backed away to give him enough space, before she stood up herself.

"What the hell just happened?" he groused as he picked up and readjusted his hat, "I remember you showing up, then that officer, then she shot me and…"

Summer nodded. "She tried to kill you, but I fought her off. Not before she smashed the briefcase, though." She handed him his gun off the floor.

Carter grabbed the offered weapon and stored it in its holster. Then he reached up to feel where the bullet had penetrated...only to run his hands over a smooth, freshly-healed patch of skin. No bullet hole? No pain? It healed, just like that?

"I was about to ask about that, actually," said Summer, "I came to check on the wound after I fought that thing, but...it just healed right before my eyes. Is that normal?"

Carter raised an eyebrow. "Not unless you're the goddamn Superman."

Summer blinked. "Super...man?"

The agent sighed. "Never mind. It doesn't matter. What matters is if she got what was in the case or not. Did you see anything?"

"No idea," answered Summer with a shrug, "It was pouring out so much light I couldn't get a good look at it. The light disappeared after I shot her...but whatever was in the case, it's gone now."

"Dammit…" Carter groaned as he massaged his temples, "Faulke's gonna have my head for this. If the Soviets got their hands on that, there's no telling what could happen. Unless…"

He drew his pistol in a flash, aiming it at Summer. Momentarily surprised, she soon brought the officer's pistol to bear, lining up the sights on Carter's center of mass.

"...did you take it?" he asked dangerously.

"Why would I take it?" shot back Summer, "I don't even know what it is. I don't even know where we are. I literally woke up five minutes ago, in a bed that I didn't fall asleep in, answering questions for a gun-happy lunatic with a weird hangup about hats and alcohol, and fought off a woman that tried to kill me! And the only reason she was trying to kill me was because I stopped her from trying to kill you! I don't care what you think of me, Mister Carter, but right now I am not your enemy! But keep pointing guns at me and accusing me of things I haven't done, and I damn well will be!"

There was a tense moment between the two as they stared each other down. Finally, slowly, Carter was the first one to lower his weapon. Summer's grip on the pistol also relaxed, and she let her arms down as she stored the pistol back in its holster.

"There. Now, that wasn't so…"

Suddenly, a loud sound blared in the distance, followed by muffled orders being broadcasted through a low-quality sound system. Summer whirled around in search of the noise. Carter, meanwhile, grit his teeth.

"Alarms," he growled, "We're under attack."

"Under attack? From what?"

Carter glanced at the empty briefcase. "Probably from whatever wanted what was inside of that. You stay here, I'll go look for Director Faulke. If he's still alive, he'll know what to...wait…"

It was only now that Carter realized the woman wasn't standing in front of him in a bed sheet anymore, instead dressed somewhat messily in the officer uniform. The buttons didn't quite line up and she had foregone the leggings and high heels, leaving bare legs and feet poking out of the skirt. The holster was mounted on her hip, but it was empty - the gun was now in Summer's hands, as she checked the magazine and sights to make sure it worked properly.

"Did you...did you just steal those clothes?"

Summer shrugged. "I mean...she wasn't using them anymore."

"Are you crazy?!" Carter hissed, "We don't even know if that thing was human! What if the infectious agent is on the clothes? What if that's how it spreads?"

"Well I'm not gonna be running around in a fight wearing a bed sheet! Besides, do you have any other clothes?"

Silence.

"Didn't think so. And if you think I'm staying here while you go out there, you're wrong. I'm coming with you."

"Like hell you are."

"Like hell I am."

Carter raised an eyebrow, before he sighed. "Are you good with a gun?"

Summer nodded.

"And you know how to fight?"

"Ever since I was eight years old."

"Christ...let me guess, your dad taught you?"

"My mom, actually."

"Right…" Another breathy sigh. "Fine, you can come with me. But don't expect me to drop everything and save you if you get in over your head."

"Likewise," said Summer, sliding the chamber on her gun. "Ready to go whenever you are."

William Carter was a man who had seen and been a lot of things. But right now, in this moment, just when he thought he had seen everything, he had met a woman that defied everything he thought was fact.

And as much as he didn't want to admit it...deep down, part of him was looking forward to seeing what else she could prove him wrong about.

"Alright. Let's move."