Casualty
0800
Schnee Manor, Atlas
Life in Atlas had returned to normal.
It was quite jarring for Ilia when she realized the speed at which people moved on and forgot. The constant fighting in Menagerie had their leaders remind their fighters of every victory to be celebrated, and every defeat to be avenged. But here in Atlas, it was like the Schnee Manor Siege never happened.
No, that was not the correct thing to say. The hallways were emptier, the new architecture alien yet familiar. The forced smiles of those still reeling from the loss of their loved ones, and the quiet sobbing at night.
Ilia only ever saw conflict from the perspective of a fighter, but never as a bystander, a civilian. Somehow, it was more devastating.
It was difficult to find a job for a Faunus in Atlas, especially one that many see as a cause for the Schnee Manor Siege. The court of public opinion hasn't been kind, and any company risked damaging its reputation hiring Ilia, an ex-White Fang operative.
Thankfully, Whitley Schnee let her keep her temporary position as security, albeit this time as a personal covert bodyguard. It suited Ilia just fine.
As Ilia patrolled the halls of Schnee Manor, her ears pricked up when she heard something.
Music. She could hear music being played. Bright and mellow, the muffled melody drifted through the air and echoed through the hall.
It was coming from Whitley's office and reverberated through the air in a way only a real instrument could.
It seemed like the man was teaching again.
To her knowledge, the music teacher was one of the many casualties from the Siege. As life resumed, Whitley took up the responsibility of covering those lessons until a replacement could be found.
It did not surprise Ilia that Whitley possessed a remarkable talent for music. Weiss Schnee had been known for her musical performances when she was younger, so it would not be that far of a stretch to assume every child in the Schnee family was proficient with some form of musical instrument.
The melody was simple, yet there was a degree of finesse to it that Ilia could not place. She was no musician, nor was she musically inclined, but it was enough to slow Ilia in her tracks. She leaned on the door and listened.
Abruptly, a sharp note shrilled, and Ilia winced. That was definitely out of tune.
"Again," She could hear Whitley say, "slowly. There is no need to rush this part."
The music started again, but this time it was evidently played with more skilled hands. She could hear Whitley's instructions as he demonstrated and played. A private lesson, she realized.
Another violin joined in, but once again the wrong note played.
"Strange. You had this part down perfectly last week."
"I'm sorry," the apology whispered so soft that Ilia almost had not heard it. She recognized Miya's voice. Miya, the little faunus orphan that one of Winter's men took as his own. The little girl had talent, that much was obvious to Ilia.
"It's okay. That is why we practice. Practice, practice, practice!"
A moment of silence.
"D-do you think papa will like it?" Miya asked, "I never played for him before."
"I'm certain he'll love it," Whitley laughed, "let's give him a surprise, shall we?"
Ilia peeked in, curious to see how the little Faunus girl looked when she played.
Miya was standing in front of Whitley, dressed in a little dress of black and blue that made her stand out amidst the white room. She took a deep breath before she clasped the violin between her chin and shoulder.
Her eyes were closed, but her expression was troubled, worried. But despite that, the violin definitely suited Miya, Ilia thought. She closed the door quietly, just as the music started again.
What a sweet gesture, Ilia thought.
0800
Main Highway, Mistral
Cardin's body slammed into the highway barrier, denting the metal rails on impact. His clothes torn and his skin shredded from the tarmac, the Legionnaire lay on the ground, unmoving.
The vehicles screamed past the body, no one sparing the large man another look.
Just another casualty of the battle.
"Cardin's down!" Russel roared, "He's fucking down!"
Ciel and Ren didn't say anything. They all saw it.
It was a sight that everyone was familiar with within their line of work. Bullets don't discriminate, and in death everyone was equal. They all knew there was nothing they could do.
After all, they were not out of danger yet.
Russel clicked his weapon to full automatic as white-hot rage and helpless frustration flooded his body, "Fuck!" he spat as he unleashed an entire magazine into the closest target.
An unfortunate Spider leaning out the window was obliterated as almost ten bullets ripped into his head and chest. Large craters of flesh and bone blew out of the Spider, sending his corpse flailing in the wind as he died. The driver hastily pulled away, before a high powered round punched through the bulletproof windshield and into his neck.
Russel was about to shout another curse, but a wave of apathy washed over him. Russel felt nothing but cold, empty, focus.
Now was not the time to grieve, nor was it the time for vengeance.
Russel glanced briefly back at Ren. He couldn't see the man's face, but his knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. Sometimes, he forgot Ren had a less used semblance, of emotional tranquillity.
But, despite the active suppression, a snarl still curled onto Russel's face as he bit down hard on his lips.
A trickle of blood ran down his chin.
Russel slammed in a new magazine, and resumed the slaughter.
Like a diving eagle, Winter spiraled down with deadly grace, a white bolt of lightning. Black glyphs arrested her fall brief enough for Winter to adjust her aim. Due Process thundered.
Ice Dust lanced down in spears of blue light, sending cars spinning as their tires froze solid. It took the Spiders several seconds to realize where they were being shot from, but by then Winter was already among them.
The first strike speared through the roof of a car and straight down the head of the driver, killing him instantly. The car sped onwards, directionless, its engine revving harder as the driver's dead foot jammed on the accelerator.
Winter ripped out her blood-stained blade and turned around. A summoning glyph materialized, forming an Ursa on the road - right in the path of another vehicle. The Ursa died on impact, but the car was sent flipping over several times as it crashed and rolled. There was a spark. The wreckage roared into a blazing inferno.
Rounds cracked at Winter. She slapped the bullets aside as if they were insects, before flinging herself onto the side of the car. Her sword anchored itself in the car frame as Winter held on.
The Spiders were now focusing fire on her, the new enemy in their midst. Rounds tore into the side of the vehicle, sending showers of sparks and shrapnel in the air. The tires burst and the vehicle swerved out of control.
Winter leapt off the car and onto the hood of another, decapitating a Spider leaning out with a single strike. She turned, Due Process bucking and kicking wildly in her hands. Two outriders were catapulted off their bikes with precise headshots, while a third detonated into a screaming fireball as the round cooked off the fuel tank.
Two shots hit Winter on the side. Her Aura strained as she stumbled.
An outrider sped along, gunning his bike's engine as he snapped off full automatic bursts at Winter. He didn't get far, before was hurled off his bike, his chest suddenly crumpled inwards in a puff of red mist.
Ciel slammed in a new magazine and chambered another round.
The Legionnaires were covering Winter, picking off anyone that got too close.
The car skidded. Inertia suddenly threw Winter off balance and onto the road.
Winter landed on her side, but her momentum kept her skidding forwards. Her Aura screamed and the tarmac sanded down her sleeve and shirt in an instant, before tearing into her Aura.
Winter urged her muscles to react. Her mind raced.
Winter twisted her body around, turning the skid into a roll.
Speed glyphs shone on the ground, projecting ticking clock hands spinning rapidly forward. Lightning Dust arced through the air, as Winter rolled onto her feet.
Without missing a beat, planted a foot on the ground and shot forwards in a full sprint. Boosted by her semblance, she bolted through the traffic like a bullet, leaping and bounding over panicking civilian vehicles as bullets snapped at her heels.
Her blade flashed. Cars spun out of control and body parts flew as Winter carved her way towards her men. Devastation followed her wake.
Winter Schnee wasn't Harriet Bree. She was nowhere as close as fast as Harriet during a full sprint, nor could she maintain this speed for a prolonged period of time. But she will still give the veteran Ace Ops a run for her money.
With a scream, Winter powered her legs forward. Her muscles expanded and contracted with explosions of Aura energy. The white van her men were in still sped on, but she could hear Russel screaming at Ren to slow down.
She saw the brake lights glow, ever so slightly. Winter was gaining ground. Her Aura screamed, and Winter jinxed aside at the last second as bullets cracked and sang past her. The booming concussive force of her men's covering fire punched her in the face in gouts of stinging hot air.
She reached out, almost at the van. The glyphs were wearing off, and her legs burned as Aura damage set in, bruising her thighs as her muscles tore itself apart under Aura exertion.
Russel swooped out and grabbed her. With a roar of effort, he hauled her inside. She crashed into him, grunting painfully as the red hot rifle barrel dug into her stomach.
"Go!" Russel screamed to Ren as he scrambled off Winter to rake the enemy with indiscriminate automatic fire.
Ren slammed the accelerator. The engines screamed. He swerved off the exit ramp, the enemy still hot on his heels.
A large black bird drifted down onto the highway, wings flapping lazily as it landed. It tiled its head at the oncoming cars, seemingly oblivious of the danger.
It hopped forward.
In a blink of an eye, Raven Brawen stood in its place, walking lazily forward as she faced the incoming onslaught.
A fearsome Grimm war mask was donned upon her head, modeled after several slain Alpha Nevermores, a sign of the highest rank and martial prowess in the bandit world.
Her blood-red katana was drawn, and she didn't even flinch at the incoming bullets. Rounds were slapped aside in almost casual swings as the bandit leader stood her ground.
The first vehicle screamed towards her, intent on running Raven over.
With a flick contempt, Ravn slashed her katana sideways.
Gravity Dust detonated outwards. The road cracked. The air warped for a brief second, just before the speeding car rammed into an invisible wall of force. Coupled with the car's inertia, the driver had no chance.
The vehicle crumpled like a drink can, the shriek of metal drowning out the crunching of bones and flesh.
The wave of gravity Dust expanded outwards. Multiple cars rammed into the gravity wall. Criminals leaning out of windows were tossed like ragdolls into the air, screaming and flailing. Some flew through their windshields. Others were simply crushed as their vehicles folded in on themselves.
The Legionnaires didn't see the rest. Ren had swerved off onto an exit, leaving the sounds of destruction behind.
"Shit," Russel whistled, his eyes wide with awe at the utter destruction the woman wrought with a single attack, "is she on our side?"
Winter sniffed, "Yeah. For now, at least."
She paused and looked around. Something was amiss.
Realization dawned upon her.
"Thrush," Winter began.
"Ma'am?"
"Where's Winchester?"
Russel's silence told her everything she needed to know.
Yang could hear the staccato crack of gunfire as she rode towards Haven Academy.
Pulling off to the side of the road, Yang slowed down and stopped. She listened in closer.
At first, when she heard the weapon reports over the roaring of her engines, Yang dismissed it. It had sounded like the usual gang war, one which Mistral law enforcement would only roll in to retrieve the bodies when it's all said and then.
Then, she realized, it was coming from the highway…and there were a lot of guns being fired.
It sounded like the streets during the Battle of Beacon.
Then, a ground-shaking explosion.
"Shit!" Yang cursed out loud. Her eyes saw the billowing smoke rising into the air soon after.
She was about to ride towards the source of danger, when a speeding white van roared down the exit and onto the road. It swerved, revving its engines as its tires screeched, before vanishing down the street in smoke.
Yang had only caught a glimpse, but it was enough.
Riddled with bullet holes, smashed windows, with armed and armored men inside.
Her first instinct was to give chase, to fulfill her duty as a Huntress and detain this suspicious personnel.
But something stopped her.
There were at least three gunmen, complete with body armor and a lot of firepower. It wasn't a job for one Huntress. A younger Yang would have given chase, would have taken her chances and went in swinging until she came out on top. Three people were even odds for Yang in most cases, but it wasn't the numbers that stopped her.
No, there was something else, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.
Her arm pulsed with pain, dull and throbbing, like a cramp on an open wounds. But that wasn't possible, because she had lost that arm years ago. The red blade of Adam Taurus would have taken her neck, but to this day she doesn't know why he didn't.
Her cybernetic arms were shaking, and Yang forced her hands to steady themselves. Then she realized her entire body was shaking. She hugged herself. It was suddenly hard to breathe.
Her subconscious mind was trying to tell her something, but she couldn't discern what it was.
Yang swallowed the bile in her throat. She felt like throwing up.
In her brief moment of weakness, of hesitation, the window for pursuit was closed. Even if she were to give chase now, there would be no telling where the vehicle would end up in the winding streets of Mistral Below.
Yang shook her head, disgusted at herself. Lionheart's indecisive cautiousness must be bleeding into her, she thought.
In the skies above, Team CFVY circled the area of devastation from a Bullhead.
"Oh Brothers," Velvet gasped as the Bullhead flew over the highway.
Smoke, fire, and body parts littered the street. It looked like a pack of Grimm had torn through the streets, leaving only death and destruction in its wake. The flashing red lights of emergency services blinked harshly, as they screamed onto the scene.
Already, firefighters were putting out the smoke. Several people were carted away, some still screaming, others unmoving.
Velvet's sharp eyes scanned the city below. Student Huntsmen were deployed en-masse in the case of a Grimm incursion, and one of the teams had given pursuit to a suspicious white van riddled with bullet holes.
Velvet had seen it too, speeding into the alleyways before vanishing deeper into Mistral Below. Fox had caught a brief glimpse of the occupant's Auras with his unique abilities, but looking down into a city was like staring into the sun and differentiating each shade of white.
Sometimes Velvet forgot just how populous Mistral was compared to other Kingdoms. On the roads and streets, sometimes instead of law enforcement, she spotted armed criminals and gangsters out in the open, glaring and taunting at the Bullhead flying overhead. She was appalled by the sheer audacity of the criminal elements in the city, and it made looking for suspicious vehicles just that much harder.
As multiple teams swept the Kingdom, it became clear that the suspects had vanished like ghosts.
Inside the Bullhead, Yatsuhashi growled in frustration. Once again, they were sidetracked. Everyday time slipped through their grasps and every day the window for their investigation closes more. Each hour wasted could very well mean another missing person won't make it back to their family.
He gripped his hands together hard.
"Yatsu?" Coco asked.
"I'm fine," he shot back, a bit too quickly. He glared venomously down at the wreckage below, "at least they are doing the Kingdom a favor. Saves us the trouble of cleaning the criminals up."
"Yatsu!" Coco said sternly, "reign it in."
Yatsuhashi shook his head and didn't meet his team leader's gaze. Instead, he looked away, his jaws working. "Of course, you would say that. You're not the one with missing family members."
"Yatsuhashi," Coco said calmly. The rare ice in her voice made her entire team look at her with cautious uncertainty, "You are a good friend and a valuable teammate. I will overlook your comment this time due to your circumstances. But, insinuate something like that again, we will have problems. Do you understand me?"
Yatsuhashi looked down, shame burning in his cheeks.
"Do you understand, big guy?"
"Yes," He sighed, "Yes. And I'm sorry."
Coco shook her head, "I know you are worried. I would be too in your place. But, I don't need to explain why our duty as Huntsmen come first."
Yatsuhashi nodded but didn't answer. He looked out of the Bullhead, his eyes fixed on the highway.
"We need to help him," Fox sent to Coco privately.
"No shit," Coco sent back, "but I sympathize."
"Yeah," Fox sent, nodding in agreement. He hesitated, before sending, "You know we're most likely not going to find them, right?"
Coco didn't know what Fox was referring to. But be it the suspects they are looking for, or the missing people of Mistral, Fox was right.
"Shut up, Fox." She said and looked away.
0815
Unknown location, Mistral
Dr. Watts nodded as Maya poured him tea from the antique tea set on Lionheart's desk. The intricate teapot contrasted greatly against the tattered and bland garments grey-haired rabbit Faunus wore.
He marveled at the tea set. It was old, of Vacuoion antique. Intricate embossed patterns and pictures of the old Vacuo Sultanate ran across the metal body of the cups and teapot, emphasized with precious Dust jewels along with the design.
It was priceless, no doubt. Ozpin's gifts to his dogs were usually rare and authentic. Sometimes he granted power, other times he doled out priceless artifacts imbued with mystical powers…but sometimes he just gave out expensive paperweight.
Lionheart fidgeted nervously on the other side of the table, his eyes on the floor. The coward never met Watts' gaze even once, not since Watts gave him a little glimpse. Sitting across the table, dressed in fine fabrics of purple silk, was a portly heavy-set blond woman.
The criminal queen spider herself, Lil Miss Malachite, glared at the scroll sitting on the table.
The scroll glowed in the dim room, showing aerial footage of the chaos unfolding on the highway played in real-time. The Spiders were in full retreat, turning tail and speeding away when their undisciplined forces realized just how many casualties they had taken.
Watts could see the controlled anger and humiliation bleeding off Lil Miss. He could taste the nervous ticks of Leonardo sitting close by. Their minds and hearts were open him, and Watts flick through their thoughts like he would the pages of a book.
A familiar taste of fear crept into his senses, nectar sweet. Watts glanced at Maya. Her eyes had caught the figure in a Grimm war mask. She was trembling.
He reached out to her, and she flinched away instinctively. Watts smiled, and stroked a finger across her cheeks, "Don't worry. You are not in trouble this time."
Maya nodded, but she didn't meet his eyes. The taste receded. She was getting better at masking her emotions and thoughts. He'll have to remedy that later.
Dr. Watts smiled. The famed Spiders have once again failed their task. Previously, their failures could be chalked up to poor preparation, bad intelligence, or even perhaps bad luck.
This time, even with the element of surprise, overwhelming numbers, and firepower, they had once again failed.
It was an insult to the ability of her organization.
"Lil' Miss," Watts took a sip from the priceless teacup, "I must admit, I am disappointed. All that effort just to get one man."
Lionheart look away as the image of Cardin Winchester's motionless body resolved itself on the scroll. A small puddle of thick red blood grew around the soldier. Lionheart was thankful the boy on laying on his side, his face obscured by the broken helmet he wore. Already, law enforcement and medics have surrounded the body. As they rolled Cardin over to cart him away, Lionheart closed his eyes.
"Oh, and before I forget, Lil Miss," Watts said,
"Yes, Doctor?"
"Tell your contacts to retain the body of Winter's man. If he's still alive, we can question him. If he's dead, I still have uses for him."
"It will be done," Lil Miss said. She paused, "But if he's alive, allow my people to question him."
"Oh?"
"This insult needs to be repaid," Malachite smiled coldly, "By the Brothers, I hope he's alive."
"Very good," Watts smiled thinly, "so. What will you do now? How will you take responsibility for this failure?"
"I will find that Schnee whore and skin her alive," Lil Miss Malachite said matter-of-factly, "then, I will feed her the remains of her men before throwing her to the Grimm."
She meant it too. For a brief moment, Watts saw a bright white room with meat hooks dangling off the ceiling, a tray with an array of surgical instruments, and a dark pit filled with human bones. Soft, barely perceptible echoes of pleads and screams rang in Watt's ear, ghosts of Lil Miss's memories.
"Charming," Watts remarked flatly, "but your empty threats and promises are getting quite tiresome."
Watts set his cup down, and the grey-haired Faunus girl quickly refilled it, "All the information in the Kingdom, all the resources available, and we cannot dispose of a handful of upstarts?"
Lil Miss Malachite's expression remained neutral, but Leonardo shifted in his seat nervously.
"I wonder what our Lady would think if we brought this mess to her attention?" Watts mused out loud, "In the face of such incompetence, it is prudent that we must reconsider our partnership."
"That would be most…inconvenient," Lil Miss admitted.
"Indeed," Watts nodded, "I am not a man that is blind to the past efforts and results of the organization, but I also expect results."
He shot a pointed look at Lil Miss, "That being said, this isn't the first time you have failed me at a crucial moment, is it?"
Lil Miss paled. She knew what the doctor was talking about. Watts rewinded the footage on his scroll.
A figure, her face hidden by an elaborate Grimm war mask stood in the middle of the highway, her blood-red katana poised and ready. A slash, a booming wave of gravity dust, followed by the chaos of cars destroying themselves as they were crushed under artificial forces.
"Your past failures have come back to haunt you, Lil Miss," Watts's face curled into an amused grin.
The crimelord bit back a retort. Instead, her eyes shifted to the Faunus girl standing meekly next to Watts. Watts could taste the indignant venom boiling in her veins.
Maya averted her eyes. The honeyed aftertaste of fear crept back onto Watts's tongue.
He licked his lips, "It is a poor craftsman that blames his tools, Lil Miss. I gave you the tools required for that victory, and you did not deliver. End of story."
The crimelord knew better than to argue.
Watts glanced over at Leonardo, who had been deathly quiet since the entire affair started, "Leo. Surely you will come up with a better plan this time."
Lionheart swallowed before talking, "Certainly, but there are things I want to address first."
Watts tutted, "Go on."
"The local council will be asking a lot of questions. As things stand in Mistral, I'm sure it will be nothing that we can't keep quiet with a bit of Lien and a few gestures to the public. But, I cannot say how Atlas would react, once we do…deal with Winter Schnee."
"Huntsmen die every day," Lil Miss said, folding her arms, "the business relationship we have with the Atlas elite is too valuable to be disrupted by the death of a single Huntsman by our hands. Even if we bring the head of Winter Schnee and throw it on the table, nothing will change. She is a social pariah in the upper circle, and the SDC does not have a monopoly over Dust supplies anymore."
Leonardo regarded Lil Miss Malachite cautiously, "You seem to forget your part in the Schnee Manor Siege. If they find out..."
"Oh I didn't, darling," Lil Miss waved a hand, "I just know that no one is going to care about a handful of dead peasant children from Mantle to have anything done about it."
Watts knew she was right. The Spiders have dealings with the Atlesian elite. The smuggling operations into Mantle alone was worth a staggering amount of Lien. That, coupled with many lawfully grey and dubious deals, was how the Atlas elite flourished even when the SDC had a stranglehold on the Dust mines.
But, ironically the power in Atlas is not as centralized as it is in Mistral. Where the Atlas upper classes would just be considered a circle of wealthy businessmen and politicians, the upper circles in Mistral would be akin to feudal warlords.
Glynda Goodwitch, the former vice-principal of Vale, holds one seat in the Atlas council. Ozpin undoubtedly will try to control the Atlesian council through her, but she is still just a single person. Any action would need the input and votes of other council members.
If Lil Miss Malachite wanted this entire embarrassment on the highway to disappear, a few favors and briefcases of Lien would have the Mistrali council in agreement. However, if there are conflicts of interest, that's when gang war and police crackdowns began.
Watts grinned. Things were so much simpler in Mistral. Lives are but currency to the likes of Lil Miss and the council. He clapped his hands together, "Speaking of which, we need to talk compensation."
"Compensation?" Lionheart stuttered, "For what?"
"Don't pretend, Leonardo," Watts sighed, "as you both have demonstrated, words and promises are cheap. I will need reassurance."
Malachite sighed, "We will be launching several raids outside of Kingdom walls soon. Any cargo we acquire in this month's operations, will be yours to do as you see fit."
Watts nodded, satisfied. An entire month's worth of prisoners from raids all over Mistral is an acceptable offer. He turned his attention to Lionheart, "Now Leo. I'm not expecting much, but a gesture would do just fine."
Lionheart tried to glare at Watts, but as soon as he met the man's cold eyes, his will withered. He remembered what he saw the last time. Lionheart swallowed, "Team NDGO, the contracted Huntsmen team. Take them. I cannot offer much else."
Watts gave the man a coy smile, "Your little attempt at soothing your conscience amuses me. Do you really think you can look away if you offer me the lives of students from other academies?"
Lionheart shook his head, "No, Doctor. It is…it is because local students will have relatives and friends here. The negativity would be more significant if one student goes missing, as opposed to a team of foreigners. The Grimm disrupts the entire Kingdom, and you wouldn't want that, right?"
Watts mulled over the headmaster's excuse. Watts spoke like a parent disciplining a child "Let me rephrase, then. For Lil Miss Malachite, it is compensation. For you, it is a punishment, a lesson. And what is a punishment if it doesn't hurt?"
"I-"
"I am going to need at least one, Leo. Can you do one of your students on top of one foreign team?" Watts sighed, "Come on now, everyone has to pay for their mistakes, is that not how you teach your students?"
"How about that girl you keep around, Leonardo?" Malachite grinned.
Lionheart paled, "I have no idea who you are talking about."
"The blond girl, Yang Xiao Long. She's the daughter of Raven Branwen," Malachite said, "taking her would be two-fold, would you not agree? In fact, she may be the perfect bait to draw Raven in."
Watts arched an eyebrow. Then he laughed, "Leonardo you sly dog. You were keeping such an asset from me right under my nose!"
"I-. No!" Lionheart stood up as he sputtered. His mind was reeling. How did Lil Miss know? How did she find out? "You cannot do this! Tai has nothing left! Qrow will kill me if he finds out!"
Watt's laughter stopped, but his smile remained, "I wonder just how much that girl is worth to you, Leo?"
Lionheart narrowed his eyes. His nostrils flared.
"We had an agreement, Watts," Lionheart whispered.
"We did. So in that spirit I will give you one last chance," Watts shrugged, "either kill Winter Schnee and her men, or I will come for your little pet."
"She's not-" Lionheart began, his voice raising
Watts spat out a word. Reality shuddered for a brief moment. Lil Miss's eyes widened.
Lionheart stopped. He began to choke, to wheeze. He clawed at his throat, his eyes wild.
"Careful now, Leo," Watts hummed, as he sipped his tea. The rich gold color of the tea was suddenly stained red by the blood in between Watt's teeth, "don't raise your voice against me. I can take her, or I can take you. It does not make a difference to me."
The doctor snapped his fingers, and Lionheart collapsed onto the floor, gagging and breathing heavily. Lil Miss stared dispassionately at the struggling headmaster. She grinned wolfishly.
"Let it not be said that I am not generous and tolerant to failures like yourself," Watts set his teacup down and laced his fingers together, "one last chance. Make it happen."
"But…but-" Lionheart looked up at Watts. His eyes were blazing with rare defiance.
For a moment, Watts thought Lionheart was going to attack him, to forfeit his life in defense of another.
Watts saw the fire in Lionheart's eyes burned briefly, and for a moment the snarl curling onto the headmaster's lips were reminiscent of the fearsome man he used to be.
Watts nodded. The temperature around plummeted. Ice crystals immediately formed on the surface of the tea, and Lionheart's deep breaths were suddenly very visible.
The fire in Lionheart's eyes flickered and died, snuffed out like a candle in a blizzard. Lionheart slumped back into the floor and clutched his face, shaking. The temperature rose again back to normal.
"I thought so," Watts said. He took another sip of tea, satisfied.
0900
Haven Academy, Mistral
The loss of one man was not anything new.
The team had faced loss before. They are, after all, a remnant of a once platoon strength force. The first and only batch Winter Schnee herself trained for the sole purpose of fighting the White Fang.
But, that did not mean it was any easier.
The team didn't speak to each other as they exfiltrated. They remained silent as they set the vehicle ablaze in the burning junkyards of Mistral below, destroying any evidence of their involvement. No words were exchanged as they mingled in with the crowd on their way back to Haven academy.
Stepping on the elevator in between levels, Winter watched as Bullheads buzzed to and from the city of Mistral, fetching teams and teams of Huntsmen to the frontline to suppress a Grimm build-up. When she was almost at the top, she was offered a clear view of the chaos that they had left behind.
Even now, the pillars of smoke were visible.
The citizens of Mistral, however, remained disinterested.
They all knew how to mind their own business.
She glanced at the eyes of the remaining men. They were sharp, alert, but the expressionless mask they wore was but a façade. Winter understood her men that much.
She knew they were all thinking the same question.
"Who's going to tell Miya?"
In the end, no one voiced the obvious question.
Robotically, after cleaning and maintaining their weapons, it was Russel that broke the eventual silence.
"I'll pack his kit if that's okay," Russel said quietly.
Winter looked at the man and nodded.
"You know the procedure, Rus," Ren said softly.
"Of course," Russel shot back, "but he's MIA. Not until I find a damn body to bury."
"Thrush…"Ciel began.
Russel flashed her a brittle smile and pushed past her towards Cardin's bunk.
Ciel looked helplessly at Ren, who just shook his head. Ciel bit her lips and nodded. They all dealt with loss in their own way.
Winter stood up.
"Captain?" Ren asked.
Winter waved him off, "Carry on. I need space to think."
Winter nodded to team CFVY as she walked past them. A brief curt greeting of acquaintances.
Coco nodded back, taking note of the older woman's slightly disheveled appearance. Winter must have come back from a mission, given how tired she looks.
Velvet suddenly gagged, a visceral reaction of instinctive disgust. Covering her nose, Velvet picked up her pace as she pulled ahead of the group.
"Velvet" Yatsuhashi called out, "what's wrong?"
"Bun?" Coco jogged after her. Worry suddenly wracked her heart. Were Velvet's wounds acting up? It hadn't been that long since she took that bullet at JiuZhan. "Velvet!"
"She's one of them," Fox's voice suddenly rang in Coco's head.
"What? One of who?"
Velvet was breathing heavily through her mouth. She looked sick and was on the verge of retching. Looking back and making sure Winter was out of sight, Velvet ran outside.
"From the highway," Fox sent, "She was in that vehicle."
"That couldn't be who I think it is, right?" Yatsuhashi said.
"It is, Yatsu," Coco confirmed, "It's Winter Schnee. I told you about what happened at JiuZhan Station. People came looking for her, and we got caught in the crossfire."
Yatsuhashi stiffened. Coco could feel anger slowly build up within her teammate as he processed this information. The man was very protective of Velvet.
Coco turned to face Fox. "Are you sure, Fox? If it is her, then this complicates things."
"I saw their Auras when they pulled out from the highway. Unless there is some Aura semblance at work here, Winter Schnee was definitely involved."
"We should bring her in," Yatsuhashi said, "Atlas Huntsmen or not, starting a shootout in the middle of the highway is reckless, even against criminals."
"She has some Ex-Beacon guys with her too," Coco said as if that changed anything.
"Wouldn't make a difference," Yatsuhashi echoed her thoughts. He paused slightly, "Did we know them?"
"Lie Ren, Russel Thrush, Cardin Winchester," Coco listed, noting the flash of disdain across Yatuhashi's face upon the mentioning of Cardin.
"Lie Ren from JNPR?" He clarified.
Coco nodded.
"He's gotten mixed up with a bad crowd," Yatsuhashi grunted.
Coco didn't reply. She thought about the situation.
If Winter Schnee was involved, then there is no doubt who the other gunmen were. Lie Ren, Russel Thrush, Cardin Winchester, and that other girl called Ciel.
She suddenly remembered the brief skirmish at JiuZhan Station. Winter and her team had dispatched their attackers with brutal efficiency and ease, but the reason the attackers were there in the first place was because of them.
The group was definitely being targeted. Perhaps they were being targeted here too?
Suddenly, she remembered her conversation with Nebula Violette earlier in the morning.
The Huntresses of Vacuo were certain they were being targeted and followed too.
"Go get Velvet," Coco told Yatsuhashi, "Fox. Follow me."
"Coco?" Fox frowned, puzzled.
"I need to talk to Lionheart. Something isn't adding up."
Russel lit up a cigarette and took a deep drag. Dormitories have a ban on smoking indoors, but currently, Russel could not give less of a damn. The smoke detector had been disabled on the first day when the team swept the dorms for bugs and other devices, and his teammates couldn't care less either.
Behind him, Ren lit a cigarette up too and leaned back, his eyes closed. Ciel busied herself with sorting out her gear, her eyes darting momentarily to Russel every now and then. Russel knows they worry, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Perhaps his mind was still reeling.
"Cardin you bastard," Russel cursed under his breath as he tossed Cardin's rifle onto his bed along with Cardin's mission bag, then he reached under the man's bed and pulled out the rest of Cardin's kit.
Unzipping the kitbag, he started to take inventory of his friend's personal belongings.
His friend didn't have much, but then again none of them did. A pack of cigarettes. A few tops and jackets. Maintenance items for Cardin's mace. Everything else was mission-specific gear provided, save for the accessories he bought for himself.
Everything would have to be sent back to Atlas to be inventoried, then sent to Cardin's next of kin. Officially, on paper, it would be sent to the Winchester Family. But, Russel knows damn well that's the last place Cardin would want his belongings to be sent.
That, and they wouldn't be able to do that until they pulled out of Mistral altogether.
There was a small book that Russel had never seen before, buried at the bottom of the bag. It was worn, but evidently well kept. The official Beacon Logo was displayed proudly on its cover, the twin golden axes still shone despite the wear and tear. An oddity, to be sure. Cardin never really kept anything of sentimental value.
Russel's first instinct was to open it, to read whatever is written within.
But he stopped himself. Cardin can show it himself when he comes back.
Deep down he knew survival was unlikely. The man's Aura had shattered. A bullet had struck his helmet, and even if he survived that gunshot a car might have run him over. The Spiders would have-
"Damn," Russel sighed, putting the book away.
They all knew this day would come sooner or later. Death was indiscriminate. A stray bullet, an explosive trap, extreme weather, lack of water. It was too easy to die, hell, Russel couldn't count how many times he was certain death had come knocking on his door.
But his old team leader just seemed so…invincible? No, that wasn't the right word. His mind couldn't really grasp the fact that most likely the next time he saw his friend, it would most likely be in a casket draped with the Atlesian flag.
Russel knows his mind is wandering. He knows he hasn't properly registered it yet, and he doubted it will anytime soon. But, he will have to deal with it on his own for now.
Russel glanced briefly back at Ciel and Ren.
Any one of them may be next. Ren and Ciel carried the scars to prove that they have already escaped death once. They may not be so lucky next time.
As he reached for Cardin's field bag, he stopped.
There was blood on the bag, already dried and sticky. Cardin's blood.
Russel swallowed a lump in his throat and shoved the field bag to the side. He buried his face in his palms.
He can't do this right now.
Cold metal arms embraced him from the back, pulling him into a warm hug. Russel bit his lips and wrapped his fingers around Ciel's prosthetic fingers. He turned around and buried his face into Ciel's and closed his eyes. Ciel ran her hands over Russel's head gently, and he could hear her choked ragged breathing.
No tears came. Russel wouldn't allow it.
But for now, he was content right where he was.
Winter walked up to the Bullhead landing pads.
Life had returned to normal for the citizens of Mistral. Like many places, death was a constant. The only thing people can do is to keep moving forward, to keep living their lives.
But, how much longer can Winter keep going?
Another casualty. Another man that entrusted his life to her hands, gone.
Unacceptable. Utterly unacceptable. The mission was scuffed from the moment they were compromised. She should have done something different, she should have done a thousand things differently.
But the question still remains. How? How were they compromised?
Information leak. Semblance. Sorcery. A traitor. A bug. The possibilities are endless.
She needed to pull some strings if she wanted her men to fight another day.
Lighting up a cigarette, she took a deep breath, allowing the smoke to fill her lungs.
She stood there watching the Kingdom for several heartbeats, before fishing out her scroll.
Winter hesitated. She really did not want to owe Robyn Hill another favor, given how the last one turned out. Glynda might be able to get Winter what she needs, but….
There was a flutter of feathers. Winter sensed a presence beside her.
Putting the scroll down, Winter did not turn to look, "Raven."
"Schnee," the older woman nodded, "I saw your man go down. There was nothing anyone could have done."
Winter gave Raven a pointed look, "What are you implying?"
Raven tilted her head, "Your men are skilled, that much is certain. You should be proud of your soldier. I'm certain he took many down with him."
Winter wanted to laugh. The woman was definitely related to Qrow. She was as bad with comforting words as he is. Strangely enough, the familiar awkwardness was comforting to Winter.
Winter smiled and nodded, "Hell yeah, I'm proud. I saw that boy grow from an arrogant bastard full of hot air to an elite bastard that could chew glass and tear an Ursa open with his bare hands."
She laughed bitterly, "The same could be said for every single one of my boys. But, they are a dying breed. It's just a shame. A damn shame, as it always is."
Raven nodded, there was understanding in her eyes. She tilted her head, "Do you drink?"
Winter nodded, "I do. I would drink to his memory, but I do not drink on missions."
Raven smiled, "I'm surprised you tolerate Qrow in that regard."
"I don't" Winter grunted. She turned to face Raven, "I appreciate your efforts, Raven. But, what is the real reason you are here?"
"Can't I care about the well-being of an ally?"
Winter gave the older woman a flat look.
Raven conceded with her hands held up in mock defeat. Her expression softened, "This is what happens when you fight Ozpin's war, Winter. This is your last chance to walk away. Save yourself the heartache before you get too involved."
"We're already too involved," Winter snorted, "People die in war, regardless of who is leading. No, I'm not backing out. I know the risks, and so do my boys."
"I see," Raven shook her head in resignation, "you're either all fools, sick in the head, or simply bloodthirsty."
Winter smiled. It was a cold, savage smile devoid of any warmth. At that moment Raven almost drew her blade from the sudden overwhelming bloodlust and killing intent emanating from Winter.
"Perhaps a little bit of everything," Winter said eventually.
1000
Atlas Huntsmen Memorial Graveyard, Atlas
Robyn Hill wasn't religious by any means. In her younger, more rebellious years, she had mocked those that put their faith in the Gods. She had thought the concept of magic and the supernatural to be absurd concepts invented by the superstitious people of old and kept alive by the uneducated to cushion the crushingly bleak reality of living in a world with monsters.
Her experience of the days leading up to the Schnee Manor Siege had shaken her beliefs to the core.
Now, Robyn muttered prayers for her fallen friends as she knelt in front of their graves, hoping the God of Light would have mercy on their bright and kind souls. May knelt next to her, her eyes closed and whispering similar prayers.
Robyn's scroll started to ring incessantly in her pocket. She sighed, fished out her scroll.
The name that appeared on her scroll made Robyn pause. Winter Schnee was the last person she had expected to call.
She answered.
"Now isn't a good time," Robyn whispered.
"I need a favor." Winter's voice was a soft growl. Her tone cut Robyn from her line of thought.
Robyn stood up, and walked away from the gravestones as if her talking would disturb the dead. May didn't move from her spot as she glanced questioningly at Robyn.
"I don't -," Robyn started, but stopped. She turned around to look at the graves of Fiona Thyme and Joanna Greenleaf. She breathed, "Does this have to do with those responsible for the attack?"
"Yes,"
"Alright. Shoot."
AN: Definitely slowing down my upload pace. Thanks to those that stick around.