I can't begin to describe how much this chapter has been rattling around in my head. Regardless, Let me go ahead and say once again thank you to everyone who has been with me from the get go and everyone who has joined our lot on this wild ride.

But all of that was only Volume 1.

Now things get hot as we roll into Volume 2, and the ripples of Volume 1 begin to coalesce outwards...

But first: FOOD FIGHT!

And some more of my actual models end up in here too... *sheepish grin* (Note: Those with actual history in the tabletop game will get the pieces I'm referencing)

Chapter 18: Best Day Ever

"If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world." —Thorin Oakenshield, The Hobbit

It was not like Jacob to miss details in places so familiar to him, but every so often it did happen; some model piece would fall under his crafting table and he wouldn't notice for a whole week, or a paper due in class a few weeks out would go missing only to be found in the bottom of his backpack beside a textbook or two, but there always was at least one instance of it sometime within the period of a few months.

"Now, I thought I saw a familiar wing in here someplace..."

Currently kneeling on the floor of his dormroom, Jacob was bent over the top of his camo backpack, reaching deep into the bottom in hopes of finding what he thought he saw. The midday sun was cascading into the room, occasionally dimmed by the odd cloud passing overhead. Other than said odd cloud here and there, the forecast had been on point with the midday temperature closing in on 90 Fahrenheit much to his chagrin. Fortunately, the dorms were packed with their own AC units so he was spared a most grueling battle with the heat.

His desk had been finally reorganized after he chided himself for not taking care of it sooner, and the textbooks he had were neatly placed in the bookshelf beside his bed, strategically placed so as to hide the door to his room's safe. Several other books had made their way into the bookshelf as well by now, including The Traitor's Hand—which he was getting a fair amount of fun from reading over the last week—his only present Heresy novel Flight of the Eisenstein, Caves of Ice and several other Ciaphas Cain novels, as well as the only 40k novel he had ever actually purchased back home, the newly-released Carrion Throne novel.

It had been 3 days since he had been inducted into... he still just called it the Ozluminati out of pure denial that what he thought was going on was actually going on, and the feeling of being a part of the Inner Circle had yet to finish sinking in. He was now a trusted member of their group, privy to their secrets and their shady activities. It was unlike anything he had ever done before, and honestly it was kind of thrilling in a weird way. They hadn't said much of anything since then, though Vulkan had offered that his door was always open if Jacob needed to talk about it. There were no badges or markers really, just the promise of a Headmaster and the technical knighting from that evening.

By now Jacob had realized that with his newfound position he could also get close to General Ironwood and potentially work on if not outright stop the Black Queen Virus from getting into the systems. No Black Queen, no Penny vs. Pyrrha, no dead Penny, things go hakuna matata from there... hopefully.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my other Inquisitor... and my Chapter Master."

As he finished looking through his backpack, he pulled his hands out and took a closer look at what he had found. In his hands were 2 more of his more prized conversions, each one with a story of their own to tell, however short their list of deeds were on the tabletop. Cradled in his left hand was a conversion he had done out of boredom of a Sister of Silence into a proxy for Inquisitor Greyfax from the Fall of Cadia. Her Sister of Silence head had been replaced with a third-party woman's head with long bangs across the forehead that was designed to look more youthful, even sporting a ponytail he had to painstakingly bend to leave room for her power pack. The boltgun in her hands now sported the arms of a bow to signal its status as a Condemnor boltgun, now particularly dangerous to Daemons and Psykers on the tabletop. Strapped aside her power pack—made from a Tempestus Scion voxcaster and a Space Marine backpack's vent—hung a Black Templar's power sword, wrapped in the parchment of an exceptionally long purity seal and painted in black along the scabbard, deep brown along the grip and silver across the handguard. The armor itself was painted in silver, shaded and extensively repainted for detail work, while the face was a very pale tone, damn-near Ruby's pallor, ironically sporting black hair with red highlights and all.

He had no affectionate name for either of them, though she had seen some solid fights in the past, the Greyfax-proxy having robbed a Chaos Sorcerer the opportunity to summon in daemonic reinforcements when The Warp swallowed the character in a very unfortunate roll for Perils.

In his other hand was the other character near and dear to him. It was a Space Marine, clad in the extensive livery of the 1st Company and sporting a massive jump pack. His chapter's armor was a dark but dull grey-blue, made manifest by him thoroughly shading Mechanicus Standard Grey in the blue Drakenhof Nightshade shader paint, with bright white shoulder pauldrons and bright green lenses for the eyes; having a number of the ancient Mk. 4 Armor sets gave his Marines a skeletal, spectral look as he had intended. Of course he stuck to the "Codex-compliant colors" fairly closely for the companies, though instead of all-white for the shoulders of his chapter like say the Ultramarines, they were instead made solid gold with no white to be found. This character however sported a shoulderpad of the white background surrounding a Crux Terminatus—a piece of armor that in the lore was said to hold a fragment of The Emperor's own armor itself—and sporting the red lining of the 3rd Company. The Marine sported two lightning claws, the right handed one a standard issue one that was simply 4 long claws on the end of a large knuckle duster, and the left handed claw being an ancient Mk. 3 version that was tantamount to a clawed gauntlet like Freddy Krueger's, index finger pointing forwards at his foe. The helmet was a standard Mk. 7 helmet with the massive scowling face and all, though a golden laurel wreathed his head. His chestpiece was the standard version of Marine armor, though it sported the twin-headed aquila rather than the skull and wings found on most. Placed along the front vents of the jump pack over the character's head Jacob had put together a sigil from a Rhino Aquila plate and an Iron Halo from the Venerable Dreadnought kit, the result looking as if a six-pointed star was shining over the aquila.

This was his Chapter Master, kitted out similarly to Kayvaan Shrike of the Raven Guard when Jacob was feeling the urge to be deep-strike happy for a change.

"Well, more to add to the roster I guess," Jacob muttered as he transferred the two over to the desk, where they soon joined the rest of his models on the back edge of the table against the wall. He looked up at the clock overhead. 11:05, lunch would be in an hour.

He turned back to his bed and immediately set his eyes on the backpack; he was certain that it had been emptied of everything when last he looked at it. How the Hell did those models end up in there? Hell, why did these models even come with him? Trying to remind him of home, of the one thing he had for a legitimate social life outside of school? What divine or demonic power was dropping these things off everywhere?

It wasn't like this reality wasn't starting to seem like a bad crossover fanfiction, oh no sir.

In the immediate aftermath of his initiation into the Inner Circle—which was now sounding like a bad Dark Angels joke at this point in time—Jacob had returned to his dorm as silent as the grave before immediately dashing to the bathroom to heave up dinner. That day had been a roller coaster of emotions, and his cast-iron stomach had finally hit its wit's end; The immediate upset came from the creeping horror that this world might not be completely Monty Oum's baby, or at the very least it has been tainted by The Grim Darkness of The 41st Millennium. He couldn't say anything outright lest he compromise his position and leave canon for much more dangerous waters, but still he was starting to wonder just how much of this world had influences of the Ol' Grimderp going on. But yet, how could it? Imperials were overbearing brutes, conformist and authoritarian to a comical degree as much as they had their crowning moments of awesome on the battlefields of the galaxy. The very notion that 40k had wormed its way into RWBY seemed downright fanciful; If there was truly an Imperial presence on Remnant, he would have known about it when he would have no doubt spotted a flag with the Imperial Aquila flying overhead, or a cult or something, anything really. But thus far it had been only a few individuals with names and appearances akin to The Emperor's Angels of Death and one secret faction that thus far had yet to act nearly as brutal as their contemporary in the Imperium.

It was unlikely that 40k had truly bled into the world of Remnant... but he couldn't take a chance on being wrong. He would need to start allocating some time to researching these individuals... on top of training for the Battle of Beacon.

Speaking of which, after the events of that evening, Jacob had also begun thinking about his situation in Remnant. There was no doubt about it, by now he had at least changed some bits of Remnant in comparison to canonical events, and without doubt things would continue to change with his involvement. Hopefully the divergences would be miniscule at the most, but regardless of that he had still changed things up... mainly with the killing of that boy.

With Team RWBY and JNPR to offer him support he had made alarmingly quick work of compartmentalizing the fact that he had committed manslaughter—in what would no doubt have been seen as a racially-charged attack if people back home got their spin on the situation—But even then every so often that moment would come screaming back to him in a panicky flurry of fear and remorse that would send him into the maws of a panic attack.

He had thought that his classes in school had taught him how to control panic attacks. But he doubted that they could ever train him for attacks of this manner. Rather than seek out further help from outside forces, he instead opted to do as he always did and soldier on with what help he did get from RWBY and JNPR. Ever since that night and the subsequent morning their bond had been fortifying at a rate that would make Rogal Dorn show emotion, mainly surprise. They waited up for him if he had to talk with a professor, unless he told them he would be along shortly such as that morning before Initiation...

That morning when he kissed Yang.

His face lit up with a calm smile. Yang had been coy with him for the past few days ever since, though she did not act the least bit embarrassed, even after word reached the others' ears of what had transpired. Admittedly, Jacob did enjoy Yang's fire and tenacity, but the two of them together were a dangerous combination in this state. Yang was quick to anger and pushing her buttons tended to lead to a concussion or worse; Jacob was well aware that his sneaky combat style and indirect means of fighting was one such thing to push those buttons to their limit.

And then of course there was her father and sister to consider—

"AAGH, JESUS!"

Without warning, his whole world became nothing but pain.

Jacob felt himself double over as the back of his skull screamed in agony. Then his eyes followed suit, forcing him to close them so hard that he was seeing stars. It was like a red-hot poker had skewered the back of his skull and started scrambling about in his... what was is again? His mind couldn't even conjure up the right name for that part of the brain he was in so much agony. Jacob couldn't even scream his mind was so focused on the pain. He fell to his knees as the pain continued.

Make it stop, make it stop, MAKE IT STOP!

He rolled onto his side as he clutched his head and strangled out a groan of pain. "Help," was all he could muster, but it was so quiet that there was no way it could have reached into the hallway.

This was no caffeine migraine like he had ever been privy to. This was as if his brain were rebelling; Some fearful hypochondriacal part of his mind screamed that he was in the midst of an aneurysm, how else would his head be in such searing pain?

Part of his mind that was still fully working feared that this was his end. He would die in his dorm room alone and unable to divulge any truths. That here, not by blade or bullet or tooth and claw, but by his own body failing, he would pass. He wouldn't get to save Pyrrha, or Penny, or Yang or anyone else who would die.

This was it. The buck stopped here.

He continued to writhe in pain for what felt like eternity, his eyes screaming in pain as if white-hot daggers had skewered them like a macabre shish-kebab.

It just kept going... and going... and going...

JESUS CHRIST, WHEN WILL THIS END!?

His answer came immediately after his thought was done; where once agonizing pain had been there was now nothing. No pain, no agony, nothing but the rush of adrenaline pounding out a tempo in his veins.

He remained on the ground, curled up in phantom agony in anticipation that it would start up again. To his ears the tick of the clock suddenly sounded a lot louder in the overwhelming silence of the room.

I... I think it's over.

Jacob slowly opened his eyes... and immediately noticed something.

The light in the room... it had... changed.

Previously, the room had lit up in unison, no shadows really to be spotted during any time of the day, as if the world had been rendered in the engine of Volume 1 at least to his point of view. Now however he noticed light variations, textures that he only now was realizing how much he missed being able to see certain textures rather than just feel them, and honest to God shadows that seemed natural, rather than the ones that seemed pre-rendered like that night at the docks.

It was as if his vision had gone from Volume 1 animation to Volume 2.

He stood up, shaking like a leaf as the fear of the pain returning continued, but he couldn't help but look around in awe. It was as if his eyes had been upgraded by some divine force.

He wobbled over to the bathroom and immediately noticed his movement in the mirror: Unlike previously, where it had appeared as if his movements were a weightless marionette like almost all of the non-combat animation in Volume 1, now his movements look much more like they felt, as though there was weight to it. Granted, not as much as real life of course, but a noticeable improvement. He arched his eyebrows and took note that the visuals of his face looked far more emotive than before; Again, not to a truly realistic degree, but now at least his emotes were easier to read than before.

"What the hell... my vision changed?"

Suddenly the positioning of the pain made sense, as it had been in the back of his skull and in his eyes; The pain had come from his occipital lobe and his eyes somehow... readjusting themselves.

"Please tell me this isn't gonna happen with each Volume," he asked nobody in particular before splashing his face with cold water.

Jacob walked back into the main room and sat himself down on the edge of the bed, holding his head as he processed what had just happened. He glanced upwards to the clock over his desk.

11:25.

Had he been out in raw pain for nearly 20 minutes?

"Lunch isn't for another 30 minutes, I think I'll just... stay here and read," he decided hesitantly before picking up and continuing onwards through The Traitor's Hand.

"This is ridiculous, I told myself firmly. I was an Imperial commissar, not a frightened juvie. I tied my sash tightly, placed my cap squarely on my head and tried not to feel quite so relieved when I'd buckled my weapon belt around my waist..."

Half an hour later, Jacob had managed to pull himself away from his book and was currently waiting along the outside of the cafeteria, looking in from just outside of of RWBY and JNPR's line of sight but at just the right angle to be able to see in. Ruby had not yet arrived with the binder she "borrowed" from Weiss' supplies, meaning that The Food Fight had yet to begin.

Of all the things Jacob had been looking forward to, watching The Food Fight was high on the priorities suffice it to say; it was a moment of brevity in the tumultuous storm of events swirling around the school before the real shitfest could begin.

Over the last two weeks the two teams had mostly spent time relaxing and training, with studying staying far out of their minds. But oddly enough considering the time of year that they were in, they spent a good amount of time outside in their outfits that were far from designed for summer comfort. Then again, it didn't seem to matter as much; Whereas back on Earth the temperature was no doubt beginning to drop, here in Remnant—Vale to be precise—the average temperature was only barely rising over 80 degrees on a hot day. To Jacob this didn't even begin to make sense seeing as Vale was around the same position on the map in latitude as, say, St. Thomas or St. Martin in the Caribbean. When he was really thinking about it, the climate of Remnant made as much sense as American politics on a good day.

He continued to watch them from his leaning perch against a window frame, watching from just out of their field of vision but still able to watch them directly. It felt strange to look in as if he were spying on them, but he would rather not get dragged into the middle of The Food Fight. Jacob had snuck inside in secret and had grabbed a cold-cut sandwich, a bag of chips and a red apple to satisfy his hunger while he waited for RWBY and JNPR to start their good-natured battle. 10 minutes afterwards and he had already finished the chips and a half of the sandwich—a delightfully-tasty roast beef and swiss that satisfied his rioting belly and drew his mind away from his earlier occipital episode—and was now tossing his apple up and down as he watched them chat nonchalantly. As he stood there watching, his eyes traced a line to Yang, currently playing with her food as Nora catapulted pieces of food her direction, only for her to grab them.

Jacob's face lit up with a smile as his mind wandered back to that kiss again... how electric it was and how much it had set his system on metaphorical fire. Maybe it was because of it being his first time, but he had never imagined a kiss to feel like that; sure he'd read similar reactions in cheesy romance novels and fanfictions, but the scary part was that they were suddenly sounding very truthful; Part of him wanted to feel that again, like a druggy-to-be after his first fix of heroin. But then again he doubted that Yang would honestly go for a guy as generally tame as he was. She had always seemed to be the type for the night life at a club whereas he was more about staying up late to paint or draw or catch up on an online raid in a game. But he couldn't pretend like living it up a little didn't metaphorically tickle his fancy a bit.

He shuffled his feet under him as he decided to look down at his phone and pull up his music. At about that point a thought ran through his head.

Don't I still have all my movies on here?

Sure enough, after some digging he found his movie roster. He was never without a few movies on hand, though at last count his library had around 30 or so thanks to a microSD card he'd gotten as a gift on his 20th birthday. The Lord of the Rings Trilogy and The Hobbit as well, the Jurassic Park quadrilogy, all of the Star Wars movies—That thought made him wish he had been given the chance to catch The Last Jedi before he left—Good Morning Vietnam, Kingsman, the first Avengers film, the Back to the Future trilogy, and a ton of other movies just to name some of the non-Disney stuff in his library which in-turn took up somewhere around another 10 names. Of course he had still hung on to the videos from his trips to Disneyland and Disney World, Seattle and D.C. and even a few he had taken when he had traveled to the Caribbean for his high school graduation. With all of that on his phone's additional SD card, he had come to realize quickly after the night at the docks he could only sparingly do his nightly journal entries; the space problem was quickly solved with a general glance-over of all of his recordings and purging the generally unnecessary ones. Alongside that he had discovered the means of recording on his Scroll as well, and for the most part he had begun using the Scroll for those recordings.

But just as he was about to turn on Jurassic World to watch the big battle between Rexy, Blue and the Indominus Rex, he glanced back at RWBY and JNPR, only to see Ruby herself walk by with Weiss' binder, the words, "Best Day Ever Activities!" scrawled across the front with a marker in big red letters.

"Hey Jacob," she began, "what are you doing out here?"

"Oh, Ruby! I uh, I was getting fresh air," he half-lied, "I caught a wicked headache earlier and I thought some fresh air would help put me back in a good mood."

"Oh, don't be silly," she said with a laugh, "being with good friends is cure enough for something like that!"

"It's really... not," he replied.

"Oh, come on," she said as she reached out a hand and grabbed the collar of his jacket, "You're gonna like what I planned!" And with that she began to drag him into the building by said collar though she only managed to make it a foot away before Jacob's 155 pounds of diminishing fat and growing muscle stopped her momentum.

With a sigh he followed along behind her, knowing full well he was now about to be plunged headlong into the Food Fight. Not according to plan, he thought to himself, but at least I'll have a little fun today. At that thought he couldn't help but chuckle as Ruby pulled him along like a puppy dog pulling its master on a walk.

Within less than a minute they had arrived at the table, Ruby slamming the binder down onto the table with a massive SLAM. Jacob's eye turned to a familiar metal chair sitting off to the side of the table and he was immediately seated astride Ruby. As he sat down, he spotted Yang looking aside at him, wearing a kind and yet wry smile. She flashed him a wink, and he felt a heat under his collar as he returned the smile.

"Hey handsome," she said jokingly.

"Hey yourself hot stuff," he replied. From the edge of his range of hearing he heard several giggles and chuckles escape the throats of the rest of the student body.

It turned out that out word of his kiss with Yang didn't stay a secret for long and some were betting on whether they would become a thing. Fortunately CFVY had been helping to dispel the rumors, though like a weed rumors would always exist and keep cropping up in the least convenient places.

Ruby cleared her throat. "Sisters... friends... Weiss."

"Hey!"

"Four score and seven minutes ago, I had a dream..."

Jacob rolled his eyes in bemusement. The Founding Fathers are spinning in their graves at the moment.

"...a dream that one day, the nine of us will come together, as teams, and have the most fun anyone has ever had... ever!"

Jacob found himself double-taking. Wait, did she say the nine of us? He distinctly remembered she originally had only been talking about RWBY and RWBY only.

Out of the corner of his vision he saw Weiss arch an eyebrow. "Did you steal my binder?"

"I am not a crook," Ruby replied in a whisper as she channeled Richard Nixon and flashed a pair of peace signs. Somewhere in the back of Jacob's mind the obligatory cry of "Arooo" sounded off, forcing him into a smile.

"What are you talking about?" Blake asked as she shut her notebook, containing notes and sketches from her time in the Fang if Jacob remembered correctly.

"I'm talking about kicking off the semester with a bang!"

Jacob felt a cold chill go racing down his spine. Wait for it...

"I always kick my semesters off with a Yang!"

The sound of Jacob's palm meeting his face could have woken the dead. The pain of both the pun and the facepalm incited a low and long groan from him.

"Eh? Guys? Am I right?" Before anyone could reply, Nora picked an apple off of Ren's plate and bopped Yang square in the nose with it with a resounding "Boooo!" backing it up.

Ruby continued undaunted. "Look guys, it's been a good two weeks and between more exchange students arriving and the tournament at the end of the year, our second semester is going to be great! But, classes start back up tomorrow! Which is why I've taken the time to schedule a series of wonderful events for us today."

"I don't know whether to be proud or scared of what you have in store," Weiss countered in surprise. Astride her Yang glared at Nora and lobbed another apple across the way, only for Nora to duck down and the apple to smack Cardin in the back of the head with an audible cry of indignation leaving him.

"I don't know," Blake began, "I think I might sit this one out."

"Sit out or not," Weiss replied, "I think that however we spend this last day, we should do it as a team!"

Across the way, Jacob heard Nora say, "I got it!" She rose from the table, having mysteriously manifested a banana cream pie out of thin air; they didn't even have those in the cafeteria line today.

Here we go...

Yang began frantically waving for Nora to stop, but judging by the mischievous grin Nora was wearing, "no" was not an option.

Weiss stood up. "I for one think that—"

SPLAT!

Weiss' face was suddenly coated in a banana cream pie, the whole table shocked into silence.

Turning his gaze to JNPR, the look of shock on Nora said that her aim was off on accident. She plopped back down into her seat beside Ren, the other three members unconsciously replicating the Three Monkeys; Ren as See with his head down in his hand, Pyrrha as Speak as she covered her mouth in shock, and Jaune as Hear... because the punchline would have been incomplete.

"And the food has flown," Jacob muttered under his breath.

Wordlessly, Weiss grabbed a salad off her plate and flung it as hard as she could. The salad caught Ren full in the face just as he looked up, sending him to the floor in a flurry of lettuce, tomatoes and Huntsman.

Jacob knew he did not want to be caught in the middle of this, or things could get out of hand really quickly. "If you'll excuse me Ruby," he began as he tried to escape to the main entrance, "I'm gonna step outside real quick—AACK!"

The strangling sound came from the sudden force of Yang yanking him down beside her as she took cover beneath the tables. "Oh no you don't," she said, "you're staying here with us!"

By now the food was flying profusely as fruit and meat and vegetables rocketed through the air like an edible hailstorm in extreme winds. Without noticing, Nora grabbed Jaune's arm and threw him like a ragdoll, sending him tumbling over them and into the window like a cartoon character.

Jacob couldn't help but think of how weird it still was to see a scene from a show at another angle like this.

Just then, he spotted Sun walking by with one of his teammates; Maroon jacket, dark-blue jeans, long gloves with a metric ton of straps on them, a rifle slung on his back, and most telling of all being the bright blue hair that could have only been spawned through hair dye, it had to be Neptune Vasilias.

A punch in his shoulder brought him back to the situation at hand. "Hey," Yang said as she shoved an apple into Jacob's hand, "start tossing!"

He looked at the apple and back at JNPR. Part of him really wanted to avoid getting involved in the food fight, mainly since he knew Glynda and Ozpin would be along soon and put a stop to it; It wouldn't exactly speak highly of him that he partook in a food fight at age 20 not even a week after joining the damned Remnant version of the Inquisition.

But he would play along for the moment.

"I'll circle 'round from the side so I can get a better shot," he said to Yang, " keep them focused on you guys." She nodded and smiled in reply and began to toss more and more food at JNPR. By now most of the student body was on the retreat or trying to take cover as dishes were sent screaming through the air. Jacob made his way down the hall as JNPR began to build up the massive pile of tables on the wall of the main entrance, almost blocking him but for a small opening amongst the tables. RWBY was too busy pushing the attack to notice him slinking away.

Just as he arrived to the entrance, Neptune and Sun walked in, Sun wearing a big and dopey smile while Neptune wore a face of shock and awe.

"Yo Wukong, might want to clear the AO," Jacob began as he shifted from crouching back to standing once he was clear of the tables.

"Oh, hey man," Sun replied nonchalantly as food continued to fly behind and beside them, "We were just dropping by to see the guys. I'd like you to meet one of my teammates; Neptune, this is Jacob, the guy I—"

Jacob put up a hand as he interrupted the monkey Faunus. "Sun, we can deal with formal introductions later, right now if we really want to watch without getting caught in the crossfire, let's find a corner to hide in."

At that instant he heard the distinctive singsong cries of, "I'm Queen of the castle, I'm Queen of the castle!"

Jacob turned around and sure enough JNPR had managed to make a makeshift mountain out of stacked tables, piled high atop one another with absolute abandon.

Across the hall, RWBY had taken up positions along the isles, Ruby slamming her foot down atop a table with enough force to send what plates remained up a foot or two before clattering to the ground or back onto the table. "Justice will be swift," she began, crushing her milk box in her hand, "Justice will be painful! it will be DELICIOUS!" The rest of RWBY cried out as well, signalling the Food Fight to begin.

He turned back to Sun and Neptune with a single order: "Find cover, it just got hot!"

The trio quickly overturned a table and took cover behind it, peaking out their heads just as JNPR began their watermelon bombardment that would make a mortar tank blush in envy. Across the way, Yang took up the metaphorical spearpoint, brandishing a pair of stuffed turkeys on her fists in the absence of Ember Celica. One by one she managed to smash her way through the bombardment, the turkeys holding against the green bombardment they were taking. Left uppercut, spin into a right punch, then a left, one by one Yang moved forwards, spattering watermelons against her fists, only for Blake to platform off of her with a pair of baguettes in hand in the absence of Gambol Shroud. She landed with a roll before cutting upwards and catching two more watermelons before Yang in turn hopped over her and caught the final one with a flying kick. With the force of a RPG, Yang sent both turkeys screaming—literally screaming with an audible whistle—at Pyrrha, who managed to roll out of the way only for Jaune to catch one of the baked poultry square in the jaw. Jaune toppled to the ground as the second one caught him in the stomach and sent him flying.

Sun, Jacob and Neptune, seated in that exact order, all cringed as the second turkey made impact. "At least it didn't land any farther south," Jacob said through his teeth, only for the two Mistrali Huntsmen beside him to cringe even harder at the notion.

Pyrrha scooped up a baguette of her own and quickly engaged Blake in a swordlock, the three loafs audibly crackling as the two tried to overpower one another; Jacob was more focused on the fact that those loaves must have been stale as hell to be that hard. Pyrrha broke the lock with a twirling slash that Blake quickly somersaulted over, the two beginning a dance of play-fighting that would have in truth belonged more in a ballet with how many pirouettes they were pulling off. Blake jumped high overhead and launched a baguette at Pyrrha, who backflipped away before launching herself forward to catch Blake in the chest with her own baguette. The Faunus girl was sent flying backwards, Pyrrha swapping to her skills with a javelin and lobbing one of the baguettes nearby like a Predator missile.

"Whoo, you go girl," Jacob called out from behind the table as he flung a fist high. Sun flashed him a raised eyebrow.

Meanwhile, one of the baguettes had caught Yang square in the chest and sent her flying, only for Ruby to appear out from behind her surfing on a tray, batting a baguette back at Pyrrha. With a flying leap Ruby flung herself tray-first at Pyrrha, who was only able to raise up her arms to block the blow but was still sent flying backwards.

Jacob, Neptune and Sun ducked back down and turned around for a second. "Geez," Neptune said in awe, "is this normal here?"

"Hardly," Jacob replied, "But it was feeling like one of those days where anything can and will happen." He extended a hand to Neptune for a handshake. "By the way, I'm Jacob. Jacob Muller."

"Neptune Vasilias," he replied as he answered the handshake. "Odd name," he noted, "no offense though."

"None taken, I get that alot. Care for an apple?"

At just that moment there was the sudden sound of bowling pins being struck, and all around them tables, benches, plates and food were thrown to the wall and high into the air, crashing down around them with a noise like a hurricane.

"No thanks," Neptune said, "I think my appetite's a bit ruined at the moment."

"Fair enough," Jacob replied before he took a bite of the apple.

They peaked their heads back over the table to the sight of Weiss dueling Nora in a battle of watermelon-hammer and swordfish of all things.

"Wait a minute," Jacob cried as he watched the fight, "where the flying hell did she get a swordfish!?"

His question went unanswered as fish and melon spun about in a flurry of swings, only for Nora to wind up and catch Weiss in the stomach. The heiress was sent flying and slammed back-first into a support column with enough force to actually compromise it, a massive wedge falling out from the body before the whole thing buckled and bent. Weiss would have been crushed by the upper half of the pillar had Ruby not been there to dive in and catch her.

"Weiss, Weiss! Don't leave me," Ruby cried out as she landed on her knee before letting out a dramatic and sappy "Nooo!"

White Rose much? Jacob thought to himself as he watched and nearly laughed at the display. Behind the two the pillar slammed into the ground with the force of a rocket exploding, the tremors feeling like the start of an earthquake. Beside him, Sun jumped up and cheered as the fight continued onwards.

"Dude, that was awesome!"

"Sun," Jacob hissed, "get down before something takes your head off!"

Just then Yang came thundering down the center lane, once again sporting a pair of turkeys on her fists. Ren moved to intercept, a pair of leeks in hand. The two met in the center of the hall, Yang swapping from a punching pose into a MMA kick that Ren managed to block with the leek.

Jacob looked away out of fear of catching an eyeful that Yang would kill him over.

"Huh, I thought she was the type for the bikini style," Sun commented.

Jacob felt a heat rise to his face. He dared to steal the tiniest glance.

Turns out, the world of Remnant didn't actually have Monty's Anti-Upskirt Technology.

For a brief second, he saw a flash of yellow beneath the white ruffles as she kicked off with her other foot and returned to a punching pose.

Jacob's head almost ran off with that image of Yang in only her underwear before he mentally conjured the image of Taiyang threatening him with a shotgun. Now I know Barbara's gonna figure out how to reach through the etherium and kill me, if Monty doesn't come back from the dead and kill me first.

"Dude don't be a creeper," Neptune commented to Sun.

"I meant it in the nicest way possible."

"Yeah, but don't let her know you saw," Jacob said through a huff, "or you'll become the first person on Remnant to leave orbit."

Their attention was stolen back by the fight as the massive sound of Huntsman meeting concrete rang out; Yang had just slammed Ren into the ground with force nearly on par with the pillar falling.

"Or she'll leave you in a you-shaped crater," Neptune wryly stated.

"That too," Jacob affirmed as he pointed aside at Neptune, his eyes still glued to the fight; Really this was a Huntsman fight taking itself to the absolute most extreme he had yet seen.

Nora engaged Yang with her melon-hammer, the two trading massive blows before Nora clued in and sent Yang tumbling through the roof with a massive uppercut.

"That melon should have gone das splat by now," Jacob said matter-of-factly.

"Their Aura is getting channeled into the weapon," Neptune said as if it were common knowledge, "gives it additional durability. I thought you training to be a Huntsman too, how do you not know that?"

"Let's just say I'm actually fairly new to this; Ironically, I'm probably the oldest person in this room," Jacob replied as Blake lashed out at Nora with a chain of sausage links, sending the pint-sized bruiser into one of the soda machines at the base of the amassed mountain of tables. Tons of sodas spilled out, and in no time at all Nora had begun picking them up and tossing them like grenade-spam in an first-person shooter. Blake managed to deflect most of them, until one soda-grenade struck in a lucky place and sent a pair of links flying at the observing party. Jacob caught them with a laugh as he held them up in a mini-victory.

"Anyone up for bratwurst sandwiches?" he asked, holding up a pair of hot dog buns that had been spared meeting the ground.

Sun quickly swiped up one and began chowing down as he watched. "Cool," he said through a bite of sausage, "lunch and a show!" As soon as he said that, a rogue soda came flying by that had been batted away by the last sausage link Blake had.

Jacob caught it as well and laughed triumphantly as he held it up. "Oh baby, root beer! I'm in heaven!" He cracked it open and let the fizz roar itself out before taking a big long swing.

Just then, Pyrrha decided to put her Semblance to use, conjuring up a wave of sodas to toss at RWBY. It was like a pair of surging tentacles made of metal and soda were attacking without relent, Blake being thrown back as the sodas pelted her like hail.

"Oh come on Pyrrha," Jacob cried out as he finished another drink, "that's not fair!"

She only muttered a weak "Sorry" as the assault continued.

Blake collided with the back wall. Ruby stood up, a determined look in her eyes.

"Oh shit," Jacob muttered as he realized what was next, "Pyrrha, look out!"

Ruby took a runner's stance, and with seconds had bolted forwards with her own Semblance catapulting her. The vortex of wind she left behind her countered Pyrrha's Magnetism, the hurricane winds sweeping up anything and everything smaller than the tables themselves in a wind tunnel missile launcher.

Jacob heard himself roar, "EVERYONE HIT THE DECK," with the force of a drill sergeant.

He and the two members of SSSN dove back behind the overturned table that they had claimed as their sanctuary as Ruby let out her little war cry and morphed into a corkscrew of red and fabric, zooming by Jaune and Ren and sweeping them up in the gale-force winds. She careened through the tables and sent them flying everywhere, the winds catching Pyrrha and Nora as well just as Ruby skidded to a halt right before she could hit the wall. A massive impact crater randomly formed in the wall before the members of JNPR even collided with it, looking as if a Graug from Shadow of Mordor had just decided to punch the wall.

The wall of debris smacked them all with the force of a typhoon, pelting them with food, plates, trays, cans and spilled soda. By the time it was over, the various drinks had coated them all so much that from a face-first viewpoint Jacob couldn't have seen who was who. They all toppled to the floor like ragdolls.

"I love these guys," Sun sighed.

Jacob looked over to Neptune, who had on this go around avoided getting coated with grape soda. Instead of looking irked afterwards like he did canonically instead he was looking a bit bewildered and had begun applauding the spectacle. "Whoo, what a show!"

The groan from JNPR brought Jacob's attention back to them. He ran over to Pyrrha and Jaune first, both laying right next to one another.

Their hands had been nestled in one another's.

Jacob suppressed the urge to chuckle. "Hey, you guys okay?"

Jaune groaned. "I think I'm gonna lay off soda for a few days," he said. Out of the corner of Jacob's vision he saw a faint blush tinging Pyrrha's face as her hand rested in Jaune's.

"Here, let me help you up," Jacob said as he took Jaune's other hand and hauled him back up on his feet. As soon as he was on his feet, Jaune turned to Pyrrha and offered her his hand. She took it with a schoolgirl blush and a meek, "Thank you."

A slamming door announced the presence of Glynda Goodwitch, who stormed into the room with an audible growl. With a twirl of her whipping crop, her Semblance came into play, the various upturned tables, benches, vending machines and other paraphernalia levitating off the ground as if possessed by some demon. Quickly and with inhuman organization the tables realigned themselves and reformed the rows they had originally been. The collapsed pillar also returned to its original state, the cracks in the structure seemingly resealing as the pillar assumed its load-bearing position. All but the hole in the ceiling where Yang had been sent flying and the one overturned table Jacob, Sun and Neptune had used remained, though Jacob was quick to correct that error as he shoved it back onto its legs and back into position.

"Children please," Glynda said sternly as she pushed her glasses back up onto the bridge of her nose, "Do not play with your food."

Silence held for all of 2 seconds before Nora let out a loud and unladylike belch mere seconds before Yang returned to earth through another hole in the roof. Everyone, even Sun and Neptune broke out into laughter after that, sans Glynda of course.

About that time Ozpin came through the doors as well, calmly and slowly walking up to Glynda and placing a calming hand on her shoulder. "Let it go," he said to Goodwitch, her gaze looking back at him the second his hand met her shoulder.

Glynda sighed heavily. "They're supposed to be the defenders of the world," she sighed as a heaviness overtook her body language; Now as Jacob watched her from beside the table he had hunkered behind, he couldn't help but notice she looked practically exhausted.

"And they will be," Ozpin replied. "But right now they're still children. So why not let them play the part?" He lowered his hand and sighed as well. "After all, it isn't a role they'll have forever."

Jacob felt his own mood start retreating southwards as well. The flashes of Volume 3 and 4 in his mind made that statement seem more than a little profound if not prememitionary all things considering. He looked over at the amassed group.

Yang and Ruby were all smiles and hugs at the moment, unaware of the cruel future fate had originally in store for them. Blake was all smiles as well, and so was Weiss.

And JNPR was whole and happy, everyone smiling and laughing. Pyrrha's laughter was loud and sweet, surprisingly complementing Jaune's chuckles. Nora and Ren were sitting next to one another as they joined in on the laughter.

Considering what was to happen, that image alone burned into Jacob's mind and thrashed the images of Volume 3 and 4 about like a T. rex with a lawyer. His own face lit up with a smile, and for the briefest second, he felt a tear roll down his left cheek.

"Hey, there's the traitor!" Yang yelled playfully as she pointed at him.

"Neutrality is betrayal, get him!" Nora cried out.

Suddenly they were all on him, Yang, Ruby and Nora tackling him to the ground as he let out an audible oof of surprise. "Careful with the old man," he laughed as they yelled playfully with joking cries of "death to the traitors". The rest watched on from the side as the four of them rolled on the floor and laughed about. Off to the side still standing near the doors, Neptune and Sun were watching with their own big smiles on their faces.

And out of the corner of his eye, He spotted Glynda and Ozpin watching as well, the faintest echo of a smile on their faces too.

For the first time since he had come to Remnant, the Battle of Beacon felt well and truly far away.

He looked down at Ruby, who was now hugging his chest tightly just before Yang joined in as well. He returned the hug in earnest, the tight-knit group hug feeling to Jacob like all of his troubles were for the moment melting into the abyss.

I'm probably jinxing it, but to hell with it, he thought to himself. This really is the best day ever.

And he wouldn't have had it any other way.

Tapdancing fuck, with how this day is going I could go for a run to an ice cream store right about now.

He looked down at the charts and tallies marking where his peons had been in regards to the city and the hauls they had made off with.

"Okay, so what are we looking at here: Industrial District, 55% scoured, 60.3 tons amassed. Not bad at all, might look into adding a few more groups over that way... Commercial District, 75% scoured, 14.7 tons amassed. Not bad, but I was expecting a bit more. Wharf District, 95% scoured, 0.5 tons? Jeez, you figure there'd be more Dust to swipe near the fucking docks than just that."

Roman Torchwick looked up from his planning table to observe his goons and... associates in the White Fang buzzing about like a hive of bees. The last few days had been a major boon for him, the majority of Dust shops in town having surrendered over 35% of the city's supplies; the entire warehouse they had established as their F.O.B. was now filled with shipping crates filled to the brim with Dust. Metrics aside, the entire operation had been abuzz with a ferocity he hadn't exactly been anticipating, though now as he thought about it more it certainly wasn't coming from his cronies.

He glanced over at a pair of White Fang foot-soldiers, grim-faced quite literally thanks to their masks and also metaphorically as not one in the whole building had even cracked a smile in the last few days. They practically oozed edgy-emo-anger, their single-minded efficiency certainly getting the job done wherever they went...

The only problem was that it was starting to get on Roman's nerves.

Sadly Neo was preoccupied at the moment in the Industrial District, giving Junior the shakedown on information out and about the city. If there was one thing that girl could do even better than massage his back like an angel, it was make a man sing like a canary.

Torchwick glanced back at the map of Vale, no long lying stretched out over a table like a battle map in a general's quarters, now instead it had been hastily hammered into the side of a shipping crate overlooking a fold-up table he was using as his desk. Every region had been mapped out, the major districts now for the most part in his control despite police activity skyrocketing with the Vytal Festival on the way.

As of the moment, Roman Torchwick was the de facto kingpin of Vale, and not even the Council or the Huntsmen could really even try to stop that.

A pair of footfalls reached from the periphery of his ears. He turned and was met by a pair of kids walking up to him. The easier to spot was the guy, about 5'10" if Roman had to take a wild-ass guess, silver hair spiked up and unkempt in the front and slicked back from the crown back like most edgelord teens in this day and age. The kid was sporting a two-tone half-zip jacket and black jeans, with black boots; From the outside he seemed to be a pretty normal kid—well, as normal as his company tended to be—though Roman was not a fool when he caught the slightest whisper of servos and gears moving with each of his footfalls.

The boy's compatriot was also rather striking. She was a dark-skinned girl, probably no older than 19 or 18 and just as cocky if that walk of hers said anything about her personality. Her hair was a mint-green straight-bang cut across the face and then ended with cheek-length bangs encircling the rest of her head.

"Oh, look! She sent the kids again!" He approached the two and embraced them in a mocking side-by-side hug. "This is turning out just like the divorce..."

That elicited a shudder from the girl—Emerald, that's what her name was—as she pulled away from him. "Spare us the thought of you procreating."

Kids these days, Roman mentally sighed as he rolled his eyes and walked away with what he needed; without Emerald's knowing he had rummaged through her back pocket and had come across the feeling of a scrap of paper in his hands.

"That was a joke," he replied sarcastically, "And this... just might tell me where you two have been all day."

Emerald quickly started groping at her back pockets in confusion. "What!?"

"I'm a professional, sweetheart," Roman replied, "Pay attention, maybe you'll learn something." He looked down at the scrap of paper; it was an address.

And address he was going to deal with tomorrow.

"Why do you have this address?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Emerald snidely replied.

"Yeah, I would. Now where have you been all day?"

"Cleaning up your problems," the boy—Mercury, that's what Cinder said his name was, but who really cares—said to him. "One of them, at least."

Roman felt his blood pressure begin to climb. "I had that under control," he said through gritted teeth.

"Two packed bags and a ticket out of Vale said otherwise," replied the boy.

"Listen, you little punk," Roman began, pointing Melodic Cudgel's barrel at him, "If it were up to me, then I would take you and your little street rat friend here and—"

"Do what, Roman?"

Roman's head snapped upwards. Without even a sound to announce her presence even considering those insane glass pumps, the sultry form of Cinder Fall had appeared on the lift platform overlooking the three of them.

Roman felt a knot twist up in his stomach. Suddenly, he wasn't top dog in the room. "I'd, uh... not kill them?"

He noticed out of the periphery of his vision that Emerald's whole body language had taken a sudden turn for the chipper. "Cinder!"

Cinder ignored her and began to advance on Roman once the lift reached the ground. "I thought I made it clear that you would eliminate the would-be runaway."

"I was going to—" Roman began.

"He was going to escape to Vacuo! Mercury and I decided to take it upon ourselves to kill the rat," replied Emerald.

"I think he was some sort of cat, actually," said Mercury.

"What? Like a puma?"

"Yeah, there ya go." Now those two were really starting to get on his nerves.

"Quiet," Cinder said sternly, as if she were a mother scolding two misbehaving children. "Did I not specifically instruct you two to keep your hands clean while in Vale?"

The two brats began to look guilty. For the first time in a while, Roman felt a bit in the mood to be mocking as he began snickering at the two's misfortune.

"I just thought—"

"Don't think," Cinder said with a commanding edge, "Obey."

Emerald's gaze met the floor in shame. "Yes ma'am," she said dejectedly. "It won't happen again."

Suddenly, Cinder wheeled on him, glaring daggers at Roman. He let out a weak chuckle. "And you: Why wasn't this job done sooner?"

Roman felt a twinge of outrage.

"Uh.. Eh...?" He gestured with his cane to a Bullhead unloading Dust.

"Eh..?" His other arm pointed to a stack of recently-stolen Dust that had yet to be loaded in the shipping crates.

Finally, he raised both arms, trying to point out the obvious Dust crates standing behind him, with him practically screaming, "EHHHHH! Sorry if I've been busy stealing every speck of Dust in the Kingdom!"

"You're an inspiration to every punk with a gun and a ski mask," said the punk, Emerald laughing at the retort.

"Look around, kid. I've got this town running scared! Police camping out at every corner, Dust prices through the roof, and we're sitting pretty on an old warehouse with more Dust crystals, vials, and rounds than we know what to do with!"

"That shall be of little concern here soon," boomed a new voice, sporting a noticeable reverb. It was loud enough that even the White Fang goons stopped in their tracks upon the voice ringing out.

Thunderous footfalls rang out overhead from the catwalk. Like an Ursa walking on the roof, it was so loud that each step almost felt as if it were drawn out for drama.

The form of a man appeared overhead, though his face looked to be hidden behind some kind of helmet, the visor forming a menacing-looking T. atop the helmet where a quadruplet of horns, all four curving in towards the vertical median of the helmet, giving him the silhouette of a demon. Even from down where he was, Roman could tell the man was easily pushing the upper end of 6' tall.

The lack of a lift didn't stop the man; on the contrary, he seemed to decide to vault over the railings with an audible .

He hit the ground in a superhero landing right out of a Valewood movie. More importantly, he made landfall with enough force that Roman felt it in his feet from 20 feet away.

And suddenly it seemed like Cinder was the least-threatening person in the room.

"Considering what I see here," the behemoth boomed again, his voice calm and smooth as jazz but authoritative and hiding an edge of menace, "Your bounty is well earned, Roman Torchwick. There is enough Dust here to suit Ms. Fall's needs, and even then some." He walked up the group, Emerald and Mercury shrinking back at his mere presence.

Roman however would not budge to some giant brute.

The man stopped about 5 feet out, and Roman became quite aware of some other details. The man was built like a tank, with huge shoulders and massive forearms clad in steel vambraces. His chest was clad in steel armor painted blood red with white edges, almost like a medieval knight but more insidious. A black and tattered cape flew behind him, giving him an even more ominous silhouette than before. He sported pauldrons as wide as a car's wheel, his left one sporting the Eightfold Path's symbol and his right sporting what looked to be his insignia:

A black shape of a horned monster's head, maw wide and bearing a great deal of teeth behind a white outline of a book, black lines simulating letters on the pages. Behind the book, the peaks of a yellow flame rose up from behind the book.

Roman had heard of some of the members of the Eightfold Path, but this guy was new to him.

"Speaking of which," Roman addressed as he piggybacked off of the brute's comment, "if you guys wouldn't mind filling me in on your grand master plan, it might actually make my next string of robberies go a little smoother!"

Cinder approached him with a sultry walk; No Neo at the moment to stop Cinder now. "Oh, Roman. Have a little faith." Her smooth hands caressed his cheek. "You'll know what you need when you need to know it."

Damn it all, he thought to himself for a second, she really know how to make a guy want to get in her pants. Heshook his head and grunted as he snapped out of his lusty trance.

"Besides," Cinder continued, "we're done with Dust."

That caught Roman's attention. "O-okay, then what now?"

The giant moved to answer, taking off his helmet. The first feature Roman noticed was the massive scar that ran from his left temple to his nostril, the subsequent left eye white and probably unable to see anything now. The face beneath the helmet turned out to be of a man in his early 40s by any and all indications, his head bald as a baby's and a he sported no facial hair either. His chin was chiseled and his features were well-sculpted: wide and short nose, strong cheekbones, and yet he looked less like a hulking brute with said ensemble and more like a shady cult-leader, a schemer. Outside of a few wrinkles for his age he sported no small blemishes, not considering the aforementioned scar.

"We're moving." the giant said. "Have the White Fang clear out this building. We shall send you details and coordinates tonight."

"Coordinates?"

Cinder looked back at Roman. "We're proceeding to Phase Two."

Cinder, Mercury and Emerald began to walk away, the giant remaining behind.

Tapdancing fuck, I need a smoke, Roman thought to himself. He moved to light a fresh cigar, a Mistral Tom cigar; hard as hell to come by and like a gift from the Mistrali gods—

Wait... where's my lighter?

Click!

He looked up; Sure enough, that girl Emerald had swiped his lighter and had lit it just to show off to him. She stuck out her tongue with an audible, "Blehh," before snapping the lighter shut and tossing back over he shoulder to Roman as she continued after Cinder.

"Heh heh heh, A spitfire that one is," the giant laughed coolly as Roman caught the lighter.

"Yeah, well if I have to work with her any more than I need to, Cinder's fronting me the bill." Roman lit the cigar and took a deep drag from it, savoring the Shion tobacco entering his system; cancer be damned, he couldn't resist a good drag of a cigar. "So," Roman said as he pulled the cigar out of his mouth, "I know you're part of that Eightfold Path group... but mind if I can get a name to go with the face, Mister...?"

"My name is not important at the moment, and I would rather not give it to you at the current moment anyhow; Perhaps once we have begun moving the Dust to its secondary location I will tell you, as it will be far more secluded."

"Why's that?" Roman asked sarcastically. "Considering your team, it's not like you're hiding from the law; Hell, you guys actively want the cops to chase you sometimes, right?"

"Indeed," the giant replied with a laugh, "But regardless, my name is my secret, and I will only let those I deem worthy know my name."

Silence crept up between the two for a solid 10 seconds before Roman decided to try to break the ice from another path. "Nice helmet," he decided on noting as the giant held the piece of armor tucked the crook of his right arm and side, "Got the real spooky evil thing going on."

"Thank you, though flattery is not needed."

"How the hell do you see out of it?"

"Cameras in the eyes, capable of seeing past the brim and give me all the sight I need; 5-times optical zoom, tactical readouts and local positioning systems I stole from an Atlesian prototype."

Roman whistled in impress. "Nice, especially considering that helmet looks pretty damn old. Where'd you get it anyway?"

The giant stayed quiet for a second before he clearly thought of a personal joke, as he chuckled malevolently. He put the helmet back on, the helmet seeming to seal with a sharp hiss.

Suddenly, it was as if the man was gone... and a demon had taken his place.

"Let's just say it was an inheritance from my father."

Oh my God, this took too damn long to write! Between class assignments, midterms, Shadow of War and Volume 5 premiering, I've been in a real whirlwind as of late.

Speaking of which, Volume 5, Episode 1: Liked it a lot, got some good start-out points for our main characters, getting much better vibes than I did with Volume 4. Also, Yang turning that dick into a human pinball was worth the $13 I had to shell out for a ticket to the Fathom Events premiere in theaters.

Anyways, next chapter Jacob finally meets his foes, a wild Wulfrik the Wanderer appears and Ciaphas Cain is coming to town~!

EDIT: Realized the bit with one of my other models was creepy, so I decided to remove mention of it altogether. Now it is just the other two, and the reason for them all being there will crop up next Chapter for a bit of deviation/team-bonding.

To all those who've continued to support my story I once again want to thank you from the bottom of my heart that you've been willing to put up with the delays and just reading through this story.

If you're new to this story and have enjoyed it, follow and favorite as you see fit, critiques and comments are welcomed with open arms

Thank you all for joining me and I will see you... in the next Chapter... Buh-bye~!