Chapter 15: Calm After The Storm

Life was simple for Johannes L. Splotwitz.

That wasn't to say that it was safe, or easy. Living in the underbelly of Vale meant that he was usually one or two steps ahead of dying, whether it be by constable, stabbing, or crazy blonde chicks.

All of that being said, what he had to do to survive was simple. Do what Junior said, and he'd live. That was all.

It was light tasks that he was assigned to. His slight physique saved him from being just another piece of muscle for the group, thank Dust. Those guys got the worst of it. Not all of them came back from assignments.

Plus, their dental hygiene sucked.

No, what he typically did was surveillance work. Stake out a building, tail a target, then report back. Find out where the other gangs were sourcing their illegal Dust, then drop an anonymous 'tip' in the form of a few hundred Lien on the cops' doorstep. Trail the scarred kid, and watch him barbeque himself.

Yeah. Simple stuff.

He was currently back at the bar. That kid (Rash, or whatever the hell his name was) probably was still under all the pain meds the doctors had given him. Johannes had caught a few glimpses from the window, and from the way it looked, the scarred teen was out for good. He'd-

"Jones? Hey, Jones!"

Johannes growled, turning to see the new guy waving a gloved hand a centimeter from his face.

"What is it now, Jimmy?" he asked tiredly, raising his cocktail to his lips. After reporting back that his mark was holed up in the hospital, Junior had given him the task of onboarding some new faces. After the fiasco at the Dust shop courtesy of Roman Torchwick, they needed a few guys to fill some missing seats.

"So, if hypothetically, someone comes and says that they have a job for the Xiong clan, should I just let him in?" The new guy nervously bobbed his head, seeking approval like some dumb freshman at his first fraternity.

Scowling, he put his drink down. "No." Getting up from the small table he was sitting at, he put both hands on the new kid's shoulders. He jolted uneasily, but to his credit the new kid (What was his name again? George?) stood his ground.

"Kid, you gotta start using your brain if you want to be part of this family."

"I-I know sir, but-"

Growling, Johannes gave a squeeze. "Letting someone in without vetting them? That's just plain dumb. Almost as dumb as interrupting my drink." Seriously, were they just letting anyone into the clan nowadays? This wasn't some World of Warfare clan. Junior's standards must have been slipping- this poor kid was way out of his league.

Well, lucky for him, he'd just gotten apprenticed to one of the best espionage men in the business.

"First, does the guy have any distinguishing features?" The mafia man took his protege under his shoulder, ignoring the faint sounds of protest as he walked him over to the bar. One of the first lessons he could teach was backbone. Either you were strong enough to deal with a small browbeating like this, or everyone walked all over you. George was too scrawny to be able to impress anyone with physical attributes, which meant that either his mind was gonna be as smart as a whip, or he'd be dead meat.

"He… erm…."

"I'll take that as a no, then." Johannes cleared his throat. "Did this asshole give a reason?"

"Um…."

"Yes. I did."

Inwardly cursing, the veteran Xiong member turned around to find a man standing a full head above him, a disgruntled look conveyed with naught but a raised eyebrow. His dark brown hair went well with the holly green greatcoat he wore. Points for style.

Johannes scowled. "Kid?"

"Yes?"

"Was he there the entire time?"

The kid at least had the decency to look ashamed. "I-I t-tried to tell you!"

Ugh. What a mess. Well, might as well try to salvage this wreck of a potential job. Clearing his throat, he straightened the stupid tie Junior insisted they all wear (fashionable, my ass) and turned away from the bar, extending a hand.

"Welcome to the Xiong clan. What can we do for you?" he said, trying to maintain the facade that he hadn't insulted the guy not minutes before.

"I understand that your association found my target," he rumbled. "A long-term contract."

"Let me check with Junior."

A few short minutes later, the head honcho was chatting with the guy at the bar, the two talking shop over a bottle of wine. Johannes sat at a table, chewing out Joe (at least, he was pretty sure that was his name) for making an idiot of him with the client. During the entire time, he kept tabs on his boss's conversation. Oftentimes folks let on more than they knew with their body language. This guy had it down pat. He didn't give any sign of emotion during the entire talk. Didn't show relief, anger, frustration, nothing.

It scared him. Those were the psychos who'd kill you without a second thought. Johannes let out a sigh of relief when the talk was over and the mysterious man left, leaving a slightly perspirating Xiong clan leader. Walking over to his boss, he placed a glass of wine in his waiting hand. "So… what'll it be, boss?"

Junior shook his head, holding up a finger while he downed the entire cup. When he surfaced, he reached for the bottle. After finishing a second bottle, he groaned. "This is real bad, Jones." He reached for his scroll. "That kid you're watching?"

Ignoring the mispronunciation of his name, Johannes nodded. "What about him?"

"That guy was the same who put the hit out on him." He took one more slurp from the glass before chugging directly from the bottle. "He wants us to get in touch with the Sons of Man."

Stunned, Johannes fell into the barstool next to his boss. "I- huh? But the brat isn't Faunus! Why-"

It didn't make sense. Those creeps only targeted Faunus in their trafficking operations. The scarred kid just didn't have the parts.

Junior's face remained hard, despite the obvious implications of what the job meant. "I don't like it either, Jones. But he's paying us more Lien then we make in a month just to be the middleman. All we have to do is set up a meeting… that's all."

Groaning, he reached for a glass. "Did you get his name?"

"Hazel."

Ozpin chuckled, putting the brakes on Reshan's wheelchair. Pointing to the gazebo, he said, "My predecessor put up that building after a particular incident involving two students, a door, and one very motivated woodpecker." He took a sip from his ever-present thermos, wondering what it would take to convince Summer to design a mug-based forme of weapon for him. While the Long Memory had served him faithfully for centuries, there were advantages to modern mechashift that he simply hadn't been able to incorporate into his weapon all those years ago.

"So what happened?" Reshan asked. He had arrived in the early afternoon from the hospital. His Aura, now regenerated enough for use, would heal him soon enough. Perhaps a week or so. So he would remain in Beacon, where he could learn while recovering.

"Suffice it to say that there is a reason we do not teach the art of unlocking the Aura of animals anymore," Ozpin replied. "When the woodpecker was awakened, he drilled a hole right through the door guarding the course material for that semester." He paused, handing the scarred teen a thermos of coffee from which he drank eagerly. "This had the unfortunate side effect of causing so much noise that one of the delinquents, a wolf Faunus, was temporarily deafened."

Reshan winced. "Oof."

"Oof indeed."

Ozpin's schedule was fairly clear, so he'd decided to take some time to see if he could understand the boy a bit better. All that had been on his schedule was some accreditation required by law, which was easily pawned off on Glynda. Being the headmaster did have its benefits, after all.

Wheeling the boy around campus not only gave him some much needed fresh air, but also allowed him to see the curiosity that Barty seemed to have fallen in love with. Despite his injury, Reshan still seemed to enjoy what he saw around him. He was all too willing to listen to the old man's stories about the old castle.

Barty seemed to think that the boy was traumatized from his experience, but he had been unable to figure out what specifically was the issue. So he'd asked Ozpin to try and figure it out, and the professor had agreed.

He had been planning on interviewing him anyway. There were things he had to discuss, of which Maidens were the least significant.

Coming to a bench, Ozpin parked the boy before sitting next to him. "So," the headmaster began. "How do you feel?"

Reshan started to answer, but was cut off by a cough. Recovering, he said, "Like utter hogwash, milord. I can barely move." He gestured to his bandaged side.

The aged professor nodded sympathetically. "Such is the price of glory." He looked off into the distance, watching the still grounds slowly shift under the influence of a gentle breeze. "I don't know many who would do what you did."

Reshan blinked slowly. "What do you mean?"

Ozpin smiled, leaning back. "You let yourself be killed for the sake of the task at hand."

From what he'd been able to see with his drone, Reshan hadn't even shown the slightest bit of hesitation. There had been no tears, no trembling. Just sheer determination.

The boy shivered. "I didn't have a choice, milord. I-"

Ozpin cut him off. "I think you did. You could have run, but you chose to stand your ground. I'm frankly shocked-"

"I DIDN'T HAVE A CHOICE!" Reshan roared. Ozpin raised an eyebrow at the outburst. Emotionally immature or not, the boy needed to realize that he couldn't mouth off like that and get away with it.

Reshan's expression turned from anger to fear in a heartbeat, blood draining from his face as he processed the fact that he had just screamed at the head of the school, and the person who had put a roof over his head.

"I-I- I'm sorry! I-I-" He looked like he was about to break down crying.

Eh. Lesson learned.

"It's quite alright, young man," Ozpin replied. "You're not the first emotional teenager to yell at me, and I'm certain you won't be the last." He gave him a few minutes to recover. Afterwards, he continued. "Why do you think you didn't have a choice?"

Reshan sniffled. "My Semblance makes me take on someone's personality. The person sitting in this chair is not the one who decided to take a blade to the chest." He growled. "I literally couldn't think of anything else. All I could think about was how to kill her."

Ozpin raised his mug to his lips, trying to hide his surprise. That sounded a great deal like a Semblance he knew.

Hmm. Interesting. Well, that was at least a piece to work with.

Ozpin nodded. "And you think that your Semblance drove you to this extreme?"

The scarred teen nodded, a relieved look on his face. The thought must have been weighing heavily on him. "I nearly died. I should have died. I don't know why or how I am alive."

Well, that was the mystery, wasn't it? Reshan should have been dead by all accounts. The reason he was alive was due to his unique biology somehow being more resilient. That was the only reason that they could think of.

Or the only one Barty had been able to think of. He had his own theory.

"Milord?"

Ozpin turned. "Yes?"

"Can you tell me what Dr. Oobleck meant when he said I'm from the past?"

The aged professor nodded. "Picture a river." The boy nodded, closing his eyes.

Ozpin leaned back, silently taking Reshan's thermos to refill his cup. "One can enter the river by a boat, and gently drift downstream. In your case, something has swept you far, far down the river."

Reshan nodded, opening his eyes. "Is it possible to ford upstream?" He looked at his porter with hope.

The silver-haired man shook his head sadly. "No, my boy."

"But- my parents-"

"Your parents have already lived full lives, as have their children, and their children, and so on and so forth," Ozpin said sympathetically. "I am sorry, Reshan. But you can't go back."

"Why not?" He asked stubbornly. Ozpin gestured to the chirping birds with his mugs.

"That is a question for one of your sessions with Mr. Oobleck." He had better things to do than explain the intricacies of time travel as theorized by the movie industry.

Three things, to be exact. First and foremost, he had to explain to this boy to not announce the existence of the Maidens to the world.

"I… very well." Reshan looked morosely to the sky, black locks shielding his sad eyes from his porter before letting out a rueful bark of laughter. "No wonder I find this world so strange. I'm not from it."

Ozpin rolled his eyes. "Once you get to my age, then you can start complaining about things not making sense." That was a nice little thing to consider. While Reshan claimed to be not two weeks old, and his body looked to be in its late teens, by birth date he was the third oldest person on Remnant. Ozpin might have just met someone who remembered all those tavern songs from the medieval era!

I wonder if he does sea shanties.

Those were some good times, being The Great Pirate, Boss Bozz. After thousands of years being the good guy, fifty years of being the bad guy had been immensely cathartic. Everyone needed a break now and then.

He chuckled at the memory of one of his pirates bragging about how manly he was. That night, the crew had given him a gift in the forme of replacing all of his trousers with dresses.

Good times. Even though he had been killed when his crew mutinied upon running out of coffee grinds, he didn't regret it.

Ozpin got up, rolling his shoulder before undoing the brakes on the wheelchair. "Barty told me you believe that both women were Maidens."

Reshan grunted. "I do. Their eyes burned with the Wizard's power." He tried to look over his shoulder, but his bandages caused him to hiss as though burned. "I thought you don't believe in the Sacred Maidens."

Ah, the superstition he had come to loathe and love in equal measure. Ozpin started to roll the injured boy towards the tower. "Tell me… what do you know about the Maidens?"

He stared at the sky for a moment before answering slowly, his words measured. "I know that they control powers beyond any normal Semblance. They are guardians of humanity, appointed by the Shade of the Wizard and granted divine strength." Ozpin could almost hear the capitalization; it was not some wizard, but The Wizard. "Each of them is responsible for maintaining the ebb and flow of a certain aspect of nature. For instance, the Fall Maiden sends gentle winds to blow the leaves off the tree, while the Winter-cough- erm, the Winter Maiden strengthens the people by testing their mettle with icy winds and cold snow. They also function as heads of the religion of the Brothers."

He's definitely not from now, Ozpin thought. There was no one nowadays who worshipped the Maidens. Certainly no one ascribed religious significance to them. That had stopped about three hundred years ago, when he had changed his strategy to better protect the public from the eternal struggle he was locked in.

"Can you guess what I am going to say?" Ozpin said.

Reshan sighed. "You want me not to tell anyone what I saw?"

Ozpin chuckled. "That would be correct, young man. The Maidens- who, by the way, lack any divine power- are currently nothing more than a fairy tale for children. All you will accomplish by telling anyone what you saw is convincing that person that you are insane."

Reshan growled. "What you say is heresy."

Ozpin sighed. "Believe me, it is true. I have seen many things over the years, and none of them signify the Brothers being any more than a myth."

Reshan raised his eyebrows. "Did you know when I asked you in class?"

"Obviously. But some things are better kept secret."

The scarred teen's shoulders tensed, but he didn't say anything. After a brief respite, he asked, "Where is everyone?"

Ah, yes. The silent campus, which was only ever truly known to him and the janitorial staff. People were used to seeing the campus swarming with his students. It was a rare event to find the grounds quiet.

"Class." A thought ran through his mind, reminding him of something. "Do you wish to meet team RWBY?"

He nodded, wincing slightly. "How are they?"

"Not good," Ozpin replied. "Ruby has taken your injury harder than you have. She has resigned as team leader, ensconcing herself in the library to study almost constantly. Without her leading, I fear that the team is about to tear itself apart." He finished his mug of coffee in one swig. "If you could speak with her?"

"Of course, milord." Reshan paused. "Who took over?"

"Miss Schnee." Now for the big reveal.

Ozpin pulled Reshan into the elevator, pushing the button for the staff quarters. "Do you recall when we first met?"

Reshan chuckled. "I cried when I saw the sunset. It's difficult to forget, milord."

The aged professor nodded. "Indeed. But I would like to call your attention to a different matter."

Reshan's face paled.

"It's time for you to earn your keep."

The elevator doors opened. Raven's door (she had been moved there last night after their discussion) was slightly ajar, expelling the loud argument between her and her brother.

"You screwed up the plan! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Well, at least I don't shoot my own goddamn brother with a CANNON!"

Reshan's expression turned to one of downright terror. "I… she's come for me. She's going to kill me…."

"I told you in the pub that I was going to use the howitzer! Can you not pay attention for one Dusting second?!"

"You said 'I'm going to blast her before she has a chance to react.' I didn't think you meant it literally!"

Ozpin patted Reshan on the shoulder, pretending to not notice the tears of despair. "There, there. There's nothing to worry about." Raising his voice, he announced, "Raven? I'd like to introduce you to someone!"

The two must have heard them, because their quarreling sibling's irate voices were replaced with a rush of footsteps and the clack of plastic on the floor.

Raven stormed out, not even bothering to obscure her wrecked face or the look of barely concealed rage. She was having a difficult enough time already walking with the crutches she was using to get around. "Took you a damn long-"

Ozpin didn't derive much satisfaction from the day to day monotony of life. Seeing someone trip on a coffee stain for the millionth time simply failed to elicit a response. The aged professor had literally lived more years than the amount of times the average person breathed. He'd seen everything under the sun.

But seeing the bravado be torn from Raven's face when she saw who he'd brought, fear rushing in to replace it?

The aged professor hadn't smiled that hard since he'd spiked Glynda's coffee with bleach.

Qrow leisurely stepped out of the room, corking his flask as he did. "Welcome to hell, kiddo."

Reshan didn't say anything in response, he was shaking so hard. Raven and he had locked eyes, and it appeared that neither wished to look away, lest the other somehow manage to commit murder despite their crippled conditions. Ozpin briefly glanced at Qrow to see if he had learned anything pressing, but a subtle shake of his head proved otherwise.

The headmaster sighed. "Is this really necessary? Raven, he's not in a position to hurt you. He can't even walk. And Reshan, you have nothing to fear from Raven. She's more scared of you than you are of her."

The two reluctantly broke gazes. Immediately, Reshan started to protest. "Why is she here? She should have been executed!"

Raven rolled her eyes. "I'm here because the great green moron blackmailed me."

Reshan's voice rose. "I- Professor Ozpin?"

"Got it," Qrow snarked. "Now you two play nice, or we'll put you both in timeout."

The injured pair stared at Qrow with equal looks of confusion and disdain. Finally, Reshan spoke. "Who are you?"

"Qrow." Reshan continued to look with disdain. Before the situation could spiral out of control, the headmaster intervened.

"Reshan, the reason I brought you here is because Raven is going to start teaching here. I want an assurance from both of you to act with civility towards each other."

Before he finished speaking, Reshan was shaking his head. "You want me to be silent? Is that what you've been buttering me up for the whole time?" Venom crept into his voice. "That's the same reason that bitch used when she tried to kill me. And look what happened."

Ozpin couldn't help but grow curious as to how the scarred teen had picked up that little piece of profanity. Probably Miss Xiao Long. As much as the two would deny it, mother and daughter shared a surprising propensity for foul language.

"Listen, you little brat," Raven spat. "There is so much more going on than you know. If you knew what I knew, you'd realize I was doing you a blessing."

"And now we're calling murder a favor?" Reshan retorted. "Are you such a coward that you can't even face your own actions?"

Qrow stepped between them. "Hey, hey, let's all calm down. I know a-"

"You are not getting my student drunk at one of your bars," The headmaster warned. "Not after last time."

Gods, that had been a nightmare. For weeks, he'd had to deal with furious councilmen, speakers coming in and out of Beacon to warn the students about the dangers of alcohol (as if fighting Grimm for a living wasn't dangerous), and to top it all off, the bar had burned down. So of course it had fallen on Beacon to cover the damages. Stupid legal contracts and their stupid legal bindings. Ozpin wouldn't have been surprised if Salem had snuck that clause into the student contract just to screw with him.

"Come on," Qrow said. "It wasn't my fault that I happened to pick a team that couldn't hold their liquor!"

Reshan cocked his head to the side in confusion. "What's a bar?"

Raven growled. "It's where he goes to try to remember who he is."

Ozpin shook his head silently. Poor choice of words, Raven.

After a moment of silence, Reshan burst out laughing. "Really?" His entire demeanor turned from that of combat to one of a joyful manner. It was unnerving how he did that.

Raven shifted her position, leaning against the wall to take the weight off her intact leg. "What's it to you, fancypants-"

"Then I would very much like to join you the next time you go," Reshan respectfully requested Qrow. He deliberately ignored Raven's attempts to goad him.

Qrow raised an eyebrow. "A little pipsqueak like you? Na-"

"Actually," Ozpin interrupted, "that would be a great idea. Provided you are willing to behave."

Ozpin was under no illusion that he was manipulating the boy. Telling him that going to a bar would heal his memories had about as much a chance of working as Peter admitting he'd rigged the faculty Opaque Oswaldo last Generic Holiday Season. But if it would keep the scarred teen obedient, then he'd take any chance. If his suspicions were even halfway correct, it was only a matter of time before the truth would manifest in any case.

Reshan only hesitated a slight bit before nodding. "If that's what it takes… yes, milord. But this bar had better be worth it!"

Ozpin hid a smile. "As long as you don't wine too much, I'll beer you there myself."

"I really hope I haven't just made an alcoholic out of this boy."

Qrow and Raven gagged in unison.

Things were finally starting to come together.

Salem didn't let any of her satisfaction show, of course. Such things were beneath one of her stature. She had been raised from an early age to carry herself with an aura of poise and grace, as befitting a royal.

Unfortunately, the staff was not so well conditioned. And this virtual meeting from her castle was starting to show it.

"And why didn't you bring him back to me!" her ambassador roared, sending its oaken chair toppling to the ground.

As befitting a Grimm of her station, the beast bore a unique appearance. No mask covered its hellish maw, or the blazing green eyes. Limbs as thin as sticks shook with barely concealed emotion, while jet- black hair cascaded down a slight body of pure white.

It was unlike the slight creature to display such emotion. Typically, it was cold and calculating, always analysing the situation around it in order to leverage it to its benefit. It was one of the more… endearing… qualities Salem had instilled.

"Madam Ambassador, he was under the strictest watch. One of Ozpin's-"

"I don't give a bloody shite about your damn excuses, Hazel." Its voice dropped dangerously dark, while greasy hair started trembling as it stared at the screen from which Hazel spoke."The current General is easily a match for one of his cronies, and he pales in comparison. WHY IS HE NOT HERE!?"

Salem gestured for silence. With a final glare, the ambassador fell silent.

"She does raise a good point, Hazel. Why did you leave him behind?"

Hazel rumbled. "Ma'am… your instructions were to find him and report back."

Well, point to the silent one for that. She should have been more specific.

Leaning on an elbow, Salem smiled without mirth. "What do you know about this… erm…."

"Reshan," Tyrian provided with a cackle. Always faithful, he was. Though she really didn't understand how he'd gotten it into his head that she was his goddess. Was it some kind of fetish or something?

"Ah, yes. What do you know about this 'Reshan'?"

Hazel leaned back. "Ozpin appears to have personally bankrolled the boy's entry into Beacon. His combat ability outstrips most present, but appears to be isolated socially. After apparently subduing the Bandit Queen of Mistral, he was hospitalized with grave injuries. It is unknown if he will recover."

This time, she really did laugh. Apparently history was determined to repeat itself. The General would not be pleased.

Her ambassador watched with an expression akin to confusion. It was unlike Salem to laugh like so. Yet, she laughed. This was an irony of the highest order.

Still chuckling, she gestured for the ambassador. "Hazel, what do you know of the silver-eyes maidens?"

Apparently unperturbed by the sudden change in topic, he shrugged. "They can turn Grimm to stone."

"A gross simplification, but correct," Salem said. "They are the greatest warriors Ozma has. With but a glance, my greatest creations are useless."

Getting up from her chair, she started to pace. "The boy you currently are tracking is crucial to my efforts in counteracting the eyes. He must be retrieved."

The ambassador tracked her every word with narrowed eyes. In a tone full of unknowable emotion, it choked out, "Milady! Send me, I have to-"

Without looking, the Queen of the Grimm snapped a finger, locking the ambassador into complete silence. It would pay for its outburst later. "If he will not come quietly, then you are authorized to take him by any means necessary. Taking a hostage should suffice. In addition, the Ambassador will come to assist you on this mission. Matters like this will require the aid of one of the Four."

The Grimm in the room said nothing, but nodded its head in assent.

Hazel raised an eyebrow. "Ma'am, I can handle a child. There is no need for a Grimm to be in the city."

Salem shook her head. "My order stands, Hazel. The boy you are following has subdued someone who has been a thorn in my side, yes? This is too delicate a matter to allow any slips."

Hazel showed no emotion, as was standard. "As you wish, ma'am." He signed off, the screen going black.

Tyrian started clapping like a child. "Oh, this is wonderful! Please, may I go too?"

Salem shook her head. "No, Tyrian. I have a special task for you."

Omake:

Tyrian shivered with delight. "What is it? Do you require a stabbing, or a spa treatment?"

"Neither. I have heard of a new method of committing warfare, one that has no defense against it. I would like for you to start training in it."

"What is it?"

"Griefing."

Tyrian actually stopped smiling. Good. If even Tyrian became serious when this method was raised, then it must be something fearsome indeed.

"Erm… my Goddess… do you actually know what that means?"

Salem stopped cold. Tyrian never questioned her. It was one of the few consistencies the insane man had. He had always obediently followed orders.

She glared at him, and took a grim satisfaction in seeing him tremble. "Of course. I overheard one of Cinder's minions- I believe it was the green-haired one- begging her partner for mercy from his 'griefing'. Naturally, Cinder's minions are excellent in their craft-"

Elsewhere, Emerald sneezed while Cinder's eye twitched.

"-And if such a thing can reduce a merciless cutthroat to tears, then it must be fearsome indeed. So you shall learn this technique, Tyrian, and bring Ozma to his knees."

Tyrian coughed, his. "Eheh, well, if it is your divine will-"

"It is. Do not question any further."

"-THEN IT WILL BE DONE!"

Ozpin raised an eyebrow at the latest comment to Beacon's social media outlet.

"Ur mom gay, bruh. Glory to Salem!"

A/N: Sorry I'm late.

Next chapter will be a bit of a timeskip. Not long- a few weeks. I'm skipping over Jaune's getting bullied because I want to get the plot rolling again. The past five chapters were meant to take one chapter.

Please read and review! I do take the time to read the reviews, and I really appreciate them. No, really! I'm definitely not saying this to inflate the story's review number to make it look good. Definitely.

Next chapter:

December 25