Well, that took longer than I expected, but I had a lot to put down... and even then I added some more.

Also, class is kicking my ass, so there's that too.

Hope you guys enjoy this while we're all hiding away in our houses or fleeing the country on Spring Break. in any case, Enjoy!


Chapter 38: Between a Rock and a Hard Place

"There are no pleasures in a fight but some of my fights have been a pleasure to win." – Muhammad Ali

The hairs on the nape of her neck shot up like quills the second she heard the deep chanting.

The words came back to her with startling clarity, even after years of speaking and hearing Remnantine Gothic and a few of the local dialects of regions across Remnant. But this… this was old, worked into the fabric of her mind. These were words she spoke only rarely now, now when she and her husband were alone and whispered sweet nothings of the old days. These were words she expressed to the few newcomers that trickled in and were caught speaking this or one of the other dialects of Home, soothing their worries to tell them that they were not alone here, in this strange place so far from The Emperor's Light.

But Mira recognized the chanting all too well. The Litany of the Emperor's Benediction; a hymn sung across the Galaxy on the lips of Guardsmen of all walks of life; commoners and nobles alike knew the cant well, being among the most common and one of the earliest that was taught to Imperial subjects. As she later found out, even the myriad Chapters of the Adeptus Astartes knew the cant well too, the Reclusiams of the thousand Chapters of the Imperium having learned it as a means of fostering their allegiance with their mortal kin.

But to hear it blaring over the speakers of Amity Colosseum…

She turned to the others, well aware of her brow furrowed high. Only Titus stared back, the others watching the arena with a terrifying intensity.

She swallowed hard. "This is not even remotely coincidence, is it," she asked.

Titus seemed at a loss. "It can't be him… From what I recall hearing, Asmodai of the Dark Angels was too stubborn to die…"

In front of them, Logan scoffed. "No Dark Angel is stubborn enough or lucky enough to cheat Morkai."

Gabriel hummed. "Even from here, it screams of his Dark Angel heritage," he muttered, leaning back to them to keep the kids out of ear's reach. "This is going to be very one-sided…"

Dante turned to glance at them for a second. He opened his mouth, clearly wanting to say something, only for Peter's voice to drown him out.

"…And with that out of the way," Oobleck said, "It is time for the battle to begin! Countdown to the battle begins! Ten! Nine!"

Mira bit her lip as the crowd around them continued to chant in excitement, counting down to the start of the match.

"He doesn't stand a chance," she thought aloud. "None of them do."

She heard her husband sigh in thought as the countdown ran down. "Here's to hoping they prove us wrong."

"Five! Four! Three! Two! ONE!"

An airhorn sounded.

Port took the airwaves. "Let the Vytal Tournament begin!"

Delia took the lead instantaneously, launching from her platform at the Dark Angel. Phoebus gleamed in the sunlight, its gold surface giving off a glare to match the gargantuan crozius arcanum in Asmodai's hands. The Chaplain in question seemed monolithic, even as Delia rushed at him in excess of fifteen miles per hour.

Twenty feet out, Mira could see the tiniest movement of his head under his hood.

Fifteen feet out, he turned and drew the crozius up to a fighting stance.

Delia saw the change and seemed to course-correct, ducking low and drawing her shield up to take a hit.

Asmodai swung the tremendous weapon with terrifying speed in a downwards arc as his legs leapt up underneath him. His timing was just right as her shield took the blow, though she was sent into the ground, skidding hard on her belly before twisting into a roll and stopping herself.

The two stared at each other for a solid second. Delia charged again, letting out a roar of battle.

Asmodai moved to intercept, running forwards with his crozius behind him. They seemed to be on a collision course, two unstoppable trains trying to become one another's immovable object.

Asmodai jumped up ten feet out, spinning into the leap. Mira winced as she realized just a second early what was about to happen.

Delia's shield only glanced the crozius, instead taking the full brunt of the hit in the left cheek. Her course jutted sharply to the right with the impact, sending her tumbling again as the Astartes dropped into a roll and slid into a crouch.

On the overhead holoscreens, Mira watched as Delia's Category-6 Aura dipped just south of 85% with that one hit. A quick glance up and she visibly balked at Asmodai's.

"Category-4? How in The Emperor's name—"

"He doesn't need to train it," Cain said right ahead of her. "He's probably all about attack and dodging, not necessarily tanking."

She grimaced. That sounded about right for a Space Marine…

"And it looks like the battle has split off into two wings,"Bartholomew said over the roar of the crowds. "With Mr. Muller and Ms. Polendina sparring off opposite of Mr. Viridianus and Ms. Lysander. And from the looks of things, they're polar opposite tones!"

Mira blinked as she realized that she had forgotten the other two. Jacob and Penny had engaged one another, their fight more like a classic Huntsman battle; both combatants had fallen back on their fighting styles, Jacob a slashing, hacking firebrand with a pistol trying to wing her as Penny's hurricane of steel countered his every swing, blocking or shifting the aim of his shots just enough as she calmly and methodically maneuvered around him. Jacob's strikes were still somewhat clumsy, sloppy and leaving him open in spots, but Penny wasn't capitalizing on them at all; in fact, it seemed as though she was leaving her own openings for him to strike at, only to quickly maneuver to block it.

An exhibition match, Mira realized. They were fighting like it was entertainment.

But the looks on their faces were more worried and concentrated than any normal entertainment fight would be inclined towards. They would grab a glance every so often back at the other fight, worry ebbing off them as they watched Delia take on a full-fledged Astartes.

Speaking of said fight, it was going badly. Their fight had returned to the classic style of close quarters fighting rather than one another's charges, but even there Delia was struggling. Phalanx was taking its fair share of hits, the massive shield absorbing the crozius' powerful blasts as she swung Phoebus like a whip, trying to keep him at range as its flail form gave her just enough extra length to reach him just as much as he reached her. It was close and tense, the two a whirling dervish of green and yellow, steel and gold, robes and armor that revolved around one another in a nail-biting flurry. She would whip the mace head, he would duck and counter with a jab, only to meet Phalanx rather than her chest. The crowd was going nuts for it.

"Come on, Delia," Mira heard from Pyrrha. "Give him what for!"

"FUCK THE EDGELORD UP," roared Ms. Valkyrie beside her, standing up atop her seat only to drop back down with a sheepish grin and blush at Pyrrha's visible startle at her swear.

"Language," called Dante warningly.

The fight between Jacob and Penny had shifted now, both backing off to let Jacob catch his breath, Penny obviously having no reason to being and Abominable Intel—an artificial intelligence, she caught herself—and not having any semblance of breathing or probably even a facsimile of a pulse.

Mira blinked in thought as she realized just how different that idea was. Her time as a Guardswoman had made automatons disturbing to say the least, even when they were the Skitarii Legions' disquieting machine-men. Yet now she was consorting by proxy with a self-aware automaton who seemed to have developed at least a baseline personality, was self-aware, was capable of emotional reactions, and had some semblance of a self-preservation instinct if the worry that she had shown off when she found Jacob and the rest of the group, clearly in a panic over the concern that her memory copy had been damaged when the tower was attacked. Almost everything about that were the clear signs of sentience—by Imperial standards, Penny would have been turned into scrap metal or pulled apart by a Magos Cybernetica for study within a Terran day of first being discovered. Hell, had Mira herself still been more along the mental lines of a Guardswoman, the fears of the ancient Men of Iron would have compelled her to shoot Penny dead on the spot.

And yet, she was worried for her. Not in the same way as she worried for Pyrrha, but still some manner of basal worry for the poor girl. So weird…

There was a sharp sound and a cry of pain. Mira shook herself loose of her thoughts as she looked up to see Delia had taken another blow across the chin, lying on her back ten feet ahead of Asmodai. The Space Marine wore a visibly vicious snarl on his face that echoed of bloodthirst and boredom, as if he was a dog trying to get the bare minimum of enjoyment out of a chew toy he was killing. He strode forwards, his crozius crackling with blue lighting as he brought it up and over her.

A quick glance at the board showed Delia's Aura had dipped down to just under 40%, though now Asmodai was around 75% now. Delia was losing fast, and she didn't look so good constantly taking these smacks to the head; even at such as distance, Delia looked dazed and shaken, a fog over her features as she blinked and shook her head.

"Get up, Delia," roared Darnath as he stood up. "Show him the might of the Fists!"

"You've got this, Firecracker," called Luce as she shot up beside her husband. "Kick his ass!"

Her parent's words seemed to be enough to shake her loose. She looked up and drew Phalanx over her just in time.

The crozius came down on the shield with the speed of a freight train, slamming into her shield with a sound what Mira presumed the Bell of Lost Souls sounded like. A visible shockwave blasted out from the impact site as Delia seemed to buckle under the impact. Still, she held firm enough to take it and hold fast against it.

The crowd cheered at the spectacle, eating up the colossal battle. Mira felt her stomach knot in worry. Port continued to narrate overhead, but she was too wrapped up watching the battle.

Penny and Jacob, meanwhile, had taken to defensive positions around the fight, having broken off from their own fight. Jacob had circled left, rolling around one of his improvised explosives in his hand. Penny had gone right, looking like she was about ready to blast them both off the board as her swords danced in a ring in front of her.

Delia broke loose and swung up with Phoebus, catching Asmodai in the jaw and sending him back into a stumble. His Aura dipped past 60% as the crowd lost their minds.

"He's leaving large openings for her," Titus said. "That's not like a Chaplain to do."

"Not unless he's leading her into a trap," Gabriel added. "Make her complacent and then he lets fly with his crozius."

Mira watched on quietly, intrigued by their assessment but still mortified as the fight broke apart. From behind Asmodai, Penny lashed out with her blade, catching him in the small of his back as Jacob made a distracting jab at Delia. She turned and met him, her wide swing forcing him to backpedal in fear of being clocked in the head by her maul. The fight broke apart again, and all eyes seemed glued on Penny and Asmodai's fight, as far as she could tell. The fight had immediately changed to an elegant dance of fury as Penny cut loose, matching the speed and power of the Dark Angel. Despite being far younger in this body and far smaller, Asmodai seemed just as skilled with his crozius as any other Space Marine, his spinning parries and jabs making his weapon seem weightless in his hands. It was uncanny and perhaps a bit frightening to watch.

Delia and Jacob, however, were locked in a far more methodical duel, both clearly winded from their fighting. They circled one another far slower than the other two, making swings and jabs at one another. After a minute, Delia backed off and transformed Phoebus back into its SMG form as she let fly a hailstorm of Lightning Dust shells. Jacob ducked under the volley and dashed to the side, Delia's volley following him.

"Come on, Rey, lead your target," called Ms. Valkyrie from her seat, bouncing up and down. "You're wasting ammo!"

"Keep running, Jacob! You got this," cried Ruby.

By some miracle, she wasn't far off. He leapt out of the way just as her last shell struck his foot, taking a little more of his Aura out, dropping him just beneath the 50% mark. He rolled hard and drew Titan, firing off three shots at her. Two made impact with her shield with a sharp pang, only for one to visibly slam into the patch of Aura over her left cheek, a small explosion revealing its Fire Dust properties.

Mira winced. The crowd let out a pained groan as Delia stumbled back, her SMG reloaded as she blind-fired from behind her hand that cradled the impact site. On the overhead, her Aura dipped past 35%.

The crowd was going nuts now. "What a display of the four in question, but it looks like we're closing in on the end of this match," Port commented overhead.

"All contestants have dipped below 50% of their Aura, and it appears that Ms. Polendina is about to level the playing field against Mr. Viridianus," added Bartholomew.

Mira blinked in confusion as she turned to look. Sure enough, Asmodai was beginning to take hits left and right as Penny unleashed the full might of her attacks, her swords now a dancing cacophony of pain as he took glancing blows and jabs that ate away slowly at his Aura. He was getting clumsy now, his attacks losing power and control.

"Woo! Go Penny," Yang cheered as she pumped her fists high in the air.

"You can do it, Penny," called Pyrrha. "Ring him out!"

"You've got him on the ropes," added Mr. Wukong. "Ring him out!"

As if hearing them, Penny doubled down on her attacks, her blades turning into a ring of steel as it ground against him, only just being blocked by his crozius. Even then, a few attacks were bleeding through, his Aura slowly dripping away like blood from a fresh wound. The crowd was eating it up, Scrolls shooting up into the air to catch the deadly dance.

Mira looked back at Jacob and Delia. The two were now in a blade lock, Phoebus coursing with energy that Cadia was in turn absorbing. It was a brilliant lightshow of its own accord, though not enough to compare to Penny's light show opposite of the Dark Angel.

The kids were whooping and hollering now, chanting for the various players in the fight; RWBY was almost entirely rooting for Penny, though Yang and Ruby were throwing cheers for Jacob as well. JNPR was split down the middle on the latter fight, with Jaune and Nora rooting for Jacob while Ren and Pyrrha were rooting for Delia. Team SSSN where whistling and cheering for Delia.

"Come on, Penny," said Logan as he suddenly vaulted upright, blocking Mira's view, "Ring the bastard out! For Russ and the Allfather!" Mira leaned over, glaring at the Great Wolf despite his attention being elsewhere. Another series of chants erupted nearby, shouting, "Delia! Delia! Delia!" Mira didn't need to look to know who that was cheering their daughter on. The others, however, simply sat watching on, intense stares on them all. Even Ciaphas had foregone his usual snark and now was silent as the grave, staring down at his de facto apprentice's combat prowess in action.

She turned to Titus, noting how intense his staring was. He glanced over for a second. "Someone has to give here," he said. "And I don't think it's Jacob."

Mira turned to watch. Sure enough, she could see a bloodthirsty snarl on his face, baring his teeth as he strained against Delia's strike. And yet… his lips were moving, flapping in the way someone's would when talking through their teeth.

There was a second of his strength wavering only for him to immediately redouble his efforts. She looked to Delia, who was clearly talking now. Instinctively she began to read the lips of her other goddaughter, her memories of training to communicate to her Whiteshield squad under radio silence kicking in; the words were clear as day as she watched Delia's mouth.

"It needs to be one of us… she's my cousin… it should be me…"

Mira's brow furrowed again. "What are you two planning," she said aloud.

Several of the other Imperials around her turned to look at her. She realized she had spoken aloud, looking at the rest of them.

"What's wrong," asked Vulkan as he leaned over.

"Nothing," she said honestly, "I just… I think they've got something else in mind rather than just the match."

Titus nodded. "They're wanting to make sure Pyrrha isn't facing Penny in the final match."

The pieces of the puzzle clicked together in short order, just in time for the crowd to let out a gasp.

A sharp but deep bang echoed across the arena, a sound that Mira was all too familiar with in her time astride the Astartes.

Ruby let out a cry of 'Penny!' that echoed out across the group. Mira looked up at the opposite fight.

Penny had been laid out on her back, clearly thrown by a nasty strike… or so she thought. Mira traced the path back to Asmodai some ten feet away, seeing that his arm had indeed been outstretched as if he had punched her. Instead of a closed fist, however, she spotted a classic, spartan Godwyn-pattern bolt pistol in Asmodai's hand, its barrel smoking from heat. Mira winced, wondering how Penny felt after taking a .75 Caliber shell to the chest, spared annihilation only by her Aura.

Penny seemed to struggle to get up, looking woozy and out of sorts as she clambered to her feet. Mira glanced up to the board, seeing that her Aura had dipped hard, now being at around 40%; she had been at around 65% before she and Asmodai had engaged, and such a sudden drop boded ill for her; by contrast, though, Asmodai had dropped to 35% in turn, a clear sign that Penny was not intending on fooling around with this fight. The battle was getting intense now, and the winners were as vague as an omen from the Emperor's Tarot.

Jacob and Delia broke loose, both levelling guns and firing at one another from ten feet away. Jacob managed a nasty shot from Cadia's still-exposed barrel, visibly forcing Delia's head back as he caught her in the forehead. Delia's second-to-last clip was loosed wildly, a few shells tearing into Jacob's remaining Aura in turn as he jumped back and rolled out of the way.

She glanced up at Penny, seeing her shaking the cobwebs loose as her blades almost instinctively blocked shots from Asmodai's bolt pistol, the swords taking severe punishment from the shells. She could see they were obviously Dust shells, but she noticed that eerie blue glow about them that she recognized; rather than the cool white-blue of ice Dust or the calm deep blue of water Dust, this was that fiery, living blue that crackled with energy just looking at it. Plasma, just like the guns her heavy weapons teams used regularly destroying Ork armor.

Another shell bounced off Penny's sword, but the shell buzzed past Penny's ear, seemingly drawing her attention. She turned to face Asmodai, her brow scrunched in an annoyed glare as she stomped towards him like a petulant child. Her swords bristled around her as they began to glow as if possessed of energy all their own. The blades' tips broke open, revealing the alternate form that she had used at the docks.

This time, Mira joined the crowd's delight with a smile of her own as the familiar sound of lasgun fire filled the air, heralded by Penny's sword-guns as beams of green energy screamed out of the barrels.

"Lasguns," she realized as she let out a small chuckle. "They're not just las-tech… they're actual lasguns…"

A few of the other Imperials around her let out hums and chuckles, the only odd one out being Titus who was enrapt by the fighting.

Speaking of which, Mira realized that Penny's change of tactics was paying off. Asmodai was backing up now, steadily heading towards the edge of the ring as Penny's las-array bombarded him, chipping tiny bits off of his Aura at such consistency that Mira could have sworn his Aura was simply being leached. Any attempt to level his bolt pistol and fire at her was countered by a las-shot hitting home or being ricocheted in desperation by his crozius.

Ten feet away, he was down to 30%. Seven feet away, he dropped past the 25% mark. He slowed his backing up, but he dropped past 20% quickly.

Penny crouched low and seemed to brace up, two of her swords diverting to impale themselves in the floor of the arena. She backed up, pulling the wires taut in front of her.

"Oh, she's gonna do it," Jaune called out. "Just a little more! You got it, Penny!"

After a second, Penny jumped, and the swords found slack, the wires propelling her forwards through her withering barrage. The blades retracted and followed behind her as Asmodai blocked a shot that had threatened to hit him in the eyes.

Three-quarters of a second later, there was a harsh sound of metal meeting metal as Penny headbutted him in the chest at what Mira presumed was just under Mach speed.

Asmodai didn't move. His Aura plummeted past 15%, sitting just above the disqualification threshold, but he himself didn't move. Penny seemed to bounce off of him like a rubber ball meeting a steel wall, bouncing and rolling as she landed on her butt some ten feet away

Around him, Asmodai's body shimmered with a forest green light, the ground beneath him matching a similar shade.

A Semblance.

"Oh, what the hell," Logan said, shooting back to his feet, "where the hell did that come from!?"

The shimmer flickered as he stepped forwards. Mira watched him closely, her training picking up on something in the stride… no, it was his Aura… it flickered in a pattern.

The world slowed down around her as her eyes zeroed in on him. She felt her Aura flare up around her, silent running for all intents and purposes as her own Semblance came to life. Everything around her was in slow-motion now, her eyes perceiving their fight as being only a handful of feet away rather than almost 100 or more feet away.

His foot landed hard, his Aura grew brighter around him, forming a vague outline of him a few inches in front of him. His other foot lifted, and it faded. It landed again, having closed the gap between Penny and him by a foot or two. The silhouette flashed brighter again.

She felt a hand take her own. She blinked hard as things sped up. The visual zoom she had retracted back to normal.

"Honey?"

She turned to Titus, noticing his worried look.

"His Semblance," she said as he closed in on Penny as she drew her blades out in a defensive pose. "It's based on his footing…"

Asmodai drew his bolt pistol and aimed at Penny, a visible snarl on his face. Mira noted it wasn't just a battle snarl; no, something had grabbed his attention, turning his hatred into something palpable, something visceral.

Something Imperial.

For a hot second, the world shifted and her Semblance kicked in again. She was back on Cadia with her Whiteshield squad, the sharp sting of cold rain on her back as she shivered, lying in the mud, her flak armor broken as it saved her from a Traitor Marine's knife vying for her heart. Even then, her ribs were broken by the impact, leaving her sprawling on the ground, pinned by his half-ton foot as his headless corpse laid over her.

Her sister stared down the barrel of the other Chaos Marine's bolt pistol, her bayonet drawn as she gasped for air. She lunged.

Mira braced for the sharp retort of a Bolt Pistol, wanting to scream from exhausted lungs.

But it didn't come.

The crowd gasped. Mira found herself back in Amity Colosseum, feeling that signature sensation that her heart had skipped a beat. Titus' hand was a firm grip. She heard him worriedly call his name.

But her focus wasn't on her husband. Her focus was on Asmodai.

The Dark Angel's head had snapped to the side, a roar of pain echoing out across the arena as a blast of blue energy slammed into his head. He was reeling now, his center off balance now. Mira drew a line from the impact zone back to Delia and Jacob.

Jacob's hand was outstretched as if he had just thrown a grenade. Phoebus was drawn out in Delia's hand, the barrel smoking with the remains of Fire Dust.

With a cry, Penny swiped her hand and brought the blades into Asmodai's side, his Semblance dropping out as he fell and tumbled over the side of the Arena. A second later, there was a harsh thud.

A klaxon rang out. Asmodai's Aura red deep in the red onscreen, probably around 5% remaining.

"And in a remarkable display of teamwork, Asmodai is out of the fight," came Port's voice. "Though with an impact like that, can someone get a paramedic down there to see if he's okay?"

Mira felt a breath leave her lungs. The crowd cheered in delight.

She looked over at the others for a brief glance. Among RWBY and JNPR, the teens were ecstatic, and her fellow Imperials were in various stages of cheering or relief, but she dared not take a further glance before her eyes darted back to the game.

Delia and Jacob had jumped back into their fight, though they looked absolutely exhausted now. Delia's swings were wild now, her face sheened with sweat and her hair bangs disheveled. Jacob was equally exhausted, his chainsword now changed back into a power sword as he met her wild swings.

"Come on, Muller," roared Ciaphas, "You've got this!"

"Clean them up, Rey," came Luce's voice.

Mira leaned back as she realized how far forward she was sitting. She felt the tickle of sweat on her brow and she moved to remove it, only to realize Titus' hand was still firmly attached to hers.

"Mira," he asked again in worry, "Are you alright?"

Mira sighed as she reached over with her other hand. She noticed a slight tremble in her hands. "Y-yes," she said.

Now Pandora was chiming in, leaning in with a worried furrow of her brow. "Mira, you look like death warmed over," she said. "Do you need some help?"

Mira immediately shook her head. "No," she said. "Just… just a bad memory," she said, wiping her brow again. "I'll be fine."

"What is Penny doing?"

The trio turned their attention back to the fight at Yang's comment. True to form, Penny was doing something odd, her blades now dancing in a ring before her as she faced the other two. Delia and Jacob were too locked in combat to notices as they began to spin tighter and tighter, the gun barrels on each blade glowing.

Mira furrowed her brow. "She's cooking the shots," she said quietly.

"Is that bad," Pandora asked as she leaned in to the married couple coming into view beside Titus.

Mira heard her husband hum. "Normally you only do that trying to punch through power armor," he said.

"No," Dante said. "It's not just many lasguns… they're converging on one another."

Mira blinked as she studied it. True to form, the blades were tightening together, the glows starting to look more like a tight cluster.

Into a large lasgun blast.

"No," Mira said. "Much worse…"

The glow suddenly grew much brighter, grabbing the other two fighters' attention.

Penny's lascannon fired.

The arena erupted into green light.

For several seconds, Mira was forced to shut her eyes.

The sound of the beam firing ceased, and the klaxon sounded off again.

"Amazing! A double ring-out," called Barty. "And the winner stands triumphant!"

The crowd went from silent to bananas in under three seconds.

Mira opened her eyes to the teens and her fellow Imperials applauding. Ruby was pumping her fists in the air with raw delight as JNPR smiled and cheered for their automaton comrade. Even the boys from Team SSSN were pumping their fists too, only instead they were cheering, "Penny! Penny! Penny!"

Soon, she was joined by others around them. Logan joined in with a laugh, followed by Ms. Valkyrie. Several teams around them began to join in. The echo rippled out, and soon the entire arena was chanting her name in victory.

"Penny! Penny! Penny!"

Mira smirked as she watched the android girl soak in the adoration, her smile so genuine and bright that Mira couldn't help return it.

For an Abomi—artificial intelligence, she was too sweet a girl to be true.

"Let's go see how the other two are holding up," came Cain's voice as he stood up.

"And get to Asmodai before he can wake up," said Gabriel as he followed behind, beginning to force his way past.

Mira watched the two of them and stood up herself, Titus following. Only then did she noticed that Dante and Pandora had already gotten a head start, Pyrrha and Jaune following them closely.

A pit formed in Mira's stomach. If Asmodai was awake, their first and most important secret could be ousted in a few syllables.

She followed behind, hiding her worry behind a veneer of calm.

I hope he is as collected as other Chaplains…


Jacob rolled over on his side with a groan as he clutched his head. He cursed under his breath as he blinked open his eyes, trying to register what had happened through the aching. Everything felt hot, like he had taken a nap in the Mojave sun. He tried to rise to his feet, but everything ached. He groaned again, almost drowned out by the crowd's excitement overhead.

"Oh, shut up," he heard Delia groan beside him.

"You first," he fired back jokingly. "How bad is it?"

"Everything hurts, everything's hot, I feel like an idiot… survey says that I just had a duel against Dad, but… aaah… that's not right at all," she said with seething sarcasm.

Jacob grinned painfully as his mind registered her word choice. "That choice of words has other connotations… Tell me, was a I good first—" he began to joke, only to get the sensation of an elbow in the side of his head. He let out a grunt on impact.

"Oh, fuck off," she said. "Help me up."

"One sec," he answered as he rolled onto his stomach and shakily rose to his feet, opening his eyes. He immediately noticed that Delia looked awful, her hair disheveled and her whole body covered in soot, as if she had climbed down an active chimney. He looked down and noticed that he was of the same status, his arms looking like he had rolled in charcoal. "Well… that didn't go as planned."

"You can say that again," she hissed in reply as she rose to her feet with his help. "Why the hell did she do that!?"

"We'll find out soon enough," he said, leading her towards the entryway to the backstage tunnels. "I will add you did great out there."

She shrugged her arm free of his hand. "Yeah, same," she said, her tone oozing with self-condescension. Jacob took a step back, not wanting to push her.

Jacob sighed before he looked back up at the platform. "I guess it keeps to canon," he said quietly, letting out a sigh. "But she'd better have a good explanation for it when—"

Delia let out a huff. "Is that your bigger concern here, other than our last opponent?"

Jacob wheeled on her, feeling his frustration rise. "Hey, look," he began, "I'm well aware of that, but I'd rather get my bearings before I go talk with the psychotic Master of Repentance," he said. "You saw that look in his eyes when he was going at her!"

"No shit," she retorted. "I took the worst beating from that bastard!"

"But he didn't have that murder lust going after you," Jacob shot back.

"You weren't staring him in the eyes!"

"He was going to kill Penny!"

"They'd never let him get the killing swing in!"

"Tell that to all the Fallen he's clobbered to death!"

"You don't know—" She stopped her sentence cold as her head swiveled left. Jacob followed her line of sight and was met with Ruby charging towards them with a big smile.

"That was AWESOME!"

Before Jacob could say another word, he was caught in a tackle, barely staying upright as braced against it. He groaned hard as pain erupted in his side, but he still returned Ruby's hug. "I take it everyone liked the show," he said.

"That was the best I've seen you do in a fight," she said with a bright smile as she broke the hug. "That was a brilliant move with the grenade, you guys!"

Jacob smirked. "Well, we weren't gonna let Penny take all the glory," he replied with a weak chuckle.

Delia let out a snort. Jacob gave her a stink eye in recompense.

Ruby let out a giggle. "Hey, Penny won fair and square," she said. "Besides, you both did great!"

Rey let out another sigh. "I suppose…"

Jacob gave her a weak smirk again before he turned his attention back to the floor they were on. His mind zeroed in on the new threat presented. "Anyone seen Asmodai," he asked, looking both directions.

"Oh, he was being hauled away on a stretcher," Ruby replied. "Mr. Angelos and Mr. Grimnar went with him, said something about… needing to talk with him?"

Jacob felt a smidge of relief at that. "Good," he said quietly. "Let's wait for Penny to get done up—"

CLANG!

Jacob felt his heart leap into his throat and his feet follow with. He swiveled around to find Penny standing behind him and Delia, smiling brightly. "What a fight," she said with a bright, toothy smile, only for Ruby to glomp her in a hug.

Jacob smiled and nodded as the others began to file in. He was instantaneously set upon by Team JNPR, all of them offering praise of some manner.

"No offense meant, man, but you made Mama rich," she said with a bright, smile, holding up several 20 Lien bills as she broke the hug.

Ren let out a sigh. "Nora, please don't," he said quietly. Jacob couldn't help but wince as he noticed Ren's voice was still hoarse from the Breach, though it still, oddly enough, sounded… like Monty's voice, but also like Neath's voice. It was weird, and if he thought about it too long, it made Jacob uncomfortable.

He saw Pyrrha pull him into a hug from the side. "That was a great match," she said. "You and Delia did great!"

He smirked as he returned the hug. "Thanks," he said, "I have great mentors."

"Oh, you," she said, blushing brightly as she broke the hug and walked back as Jaune replaced her.

Jaune, by contrast, was bouncing with excitement. "That was awesome," he said. "I mean, no disrespect, that Asmodai guy was even more awesome, but still!"

Jacob smirked. "To be fair, he really played up that, uh, 'Angel of Death' thing, didn't he," he said hesitantly. "I think he actually had ulterior motives with that last attack."

JNPR looked at him with confusion. "What do you mean," Neath ask—Ren asked.

Jacob sighed, beginning to formulate his sentence in his head… he had to fit it just right, otherwise risk them investigating, and the Imperials being exposed… that worry lingered in his mind. "He… I think he was onto Penny's real nature," he said, alarming Pyrrha and Jaune. "Somewhere near the end, his demeanor shifted. He wasn't fooling around anymore, in any connotation; there was that hardline look of murderous intent in his eyes."

"…Maybe he's just a sore loser," Jaune offered. "It's probably nothing."

"Depends," Ren added. "maybe we should investigate him?"

Jacob's stomach hitched. "Maybe we should let the professors look into it," he said. "If someone as oblivious as me could spot it, they probably did too."

A second of silence. "I suppose it's nothing to worry about," Pyrrha said. "Besides, he couldn't… not in the middle of the Vytal Festival."

Jacob swallowed hard as memories of P.v.P. rushed to the forefront of his mind.

"You're being paranoid," came the voice of Yang as she popped in beside them. Jacob didn't have a chance to brace as she pulled him into a bear hug. "He was just fired up for the match, that's all!"

"Yeah," Nora said, "He was probably just pumped up full of adrenaline! Besides, did you see that badass pistol?!" She leaned in, cupping her mouth as if speaking a secret and said, "I think it's a rocket launcher in disguise."

"The shells were .75 caliber," replied Delia, still standing beside the others with a tapping foot and crossed arms. "I've seen it before."

Pyrrha turned to her cousin. "You have?"

Jacob gave her a look. "How do you—"

She answered his unfinished question as she lifted a flattened piece of metal, still smoking with heat in her hand. His sentence died in his throat as he took the metal mushroom in his hand, studying it intensely as JNPR, Ruby, Penny and Yang circled around him.

"What is it," asked Ruby. "Is that…"

Jacob nodded. "I think this is the shell that hit Penny," he said.

"Look at the center," Delia said. "Notice anything?"

Jacob turned the shards of the ammunition around and was met with the site of a dazzling piece of something in the concaved center. It was small but clearly had a point, looking only somewhat like a cone of…

"A diamond," asked Yang incredulously. "He tipped his bullets with diamonds?"

"Diamantine material," Jacob said quietly.

"There's more," Delia added. "There's Dust, but it's not the primary fuel of the shell."

That caught everyone off guard. "It wasn't Dust-infused," asked Ruby in bafflement, as if someone had said cookies were bad. Outside, the crowd had died down for a bit as they awaited the next fight between teams.

"No," Yang clarified, "I think she means that there's Dust… but it's not a part of the shell's power."

"What could they use," asked Jaune.

Penny leaned in, her eyes squinting hard. "I detect trace amounts of pure carbon, sulfur and potassium nitrate," she said. "And what appears to be a small amount of combined Wind and Fire Dust."

While not a chemist, Jacob was quick to realize the chemicals and Dust combination presented. "Gunpowder and an ad-hoc jet propellant," he guessed aloud.

"Precisely," she replied.

"Gunpowder's only used out on the frontiers," Nora said. "When settlers can't get their hands on some Dust, it works, but it doesn't kill Grimm as efficiently."

Jacob looked up at her with confusion just as Ren gave him a look that said 'don't ask, we just know' flat out. Jacob bit his tongue and nodded in acquiescence, turning his attention back on the shell. "The Dust is the propellant," he deciphered, thinking back on how a bolter shell worked, "which means the gunpowder is the catalyst for the shell's detonation…"

"Detonation? Like a grenade," asked Nora, holding up one of her own grenades.

He nodded as he tested the bolter shell's weight. "Heavy stuff too, more than just brass, like I was thinking it would be. And with the diamond tip…"

Pyrrha was first to figure it out this time. "It… detonates inside its target?"

Jacob glanced at her and nodded, Delia joining in.

Jaune audibly swallowed. "Jeez," he said, "talk about intense."

"Are those even allowed," Ren asked.

"There are no regulations in regards to the variety of Dust ammunition permitted," Penny added. "And by technicalities it could be said this is primarily powered by Dust."

"Well, the officials seemed to be okay with them, so… I'd presume so," Pyrrha added.

Jacob however was too focused on the bolt shell. This was no normal Dust shell like he was getting used to, but a potent mix of ballistics from home and the magi-tech of Remnant; and the fact that one shell slaughtered a solid chunk of Penny's Aura only made its potency more evident.

But the owner of said shell gave him the biggest knot in his stomach. Asmodai, the Master of Repentance and the most savage member of the Dark Angels was on Remnant, and clearly had been in hiding… or the other Imperials had been keeping his existence a secret. But why? There was nothing to gain from such a move, so they must not have known about him either, right? Why would Asmodai be hiding from other Imperials? Did he simply not know about other Imperials?

"Too many questions," he muttered under his breath.

"Indeed," Penny added at his side, quiet as a church mouse.

He turned to look at her, his mind shifting to the note of canonicity. Her victory meant she was bound for the final fight of the Festival…

No doubt against Pyrrha.

Why did you do that, he asked Penny in his mind.

She looked up at him with a pair of apologetic eyes. He didn't need to hear her answer.

Because it's what has to be done, her eyes said wordlessly.

Their moment was interrupted as Ruby popped in beside them. "Well," she said, "It doesn't matter now! The fight's over and Penny's the winner, right?"

Penny smiled. "I agree," she said, backing away. "I believe now are the preliminary team fights, right?"

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, we will be right back for the preliminary team fights," answered Port overhead, "Starting with Team RWBY of Beacon versus Team BRNZ of Shade!"

Jacob felt his stomach hitch. RWBY was supposed to fight ABRN and JNPR was supposed to fight BRNZ in canon.

"Ooh, that's us! We better get ready," Ruby said with a bright smile, backing away. "Wish us luck!"

"We'd better get back to our seats," Jaune said. "Come on, we can talk about it later!"

Jacob nodded quietly as he stiffly stood upright. He turned to look over where Asmodai had fallen, wondering if he was there or not.

No sign of the Dark Angel.

Jacob grimaced as he turned to follow the others, falling in beside Pyrrha, Jaune and Penny, his mind wandering with deep worry.

Cracks were forming. The future suddenly seemed the tiniest hint foggier than before.


"Oh, they're good."

"Amateurs."

"Oh, come now, even the android girl has a notable prowess to defeat a Dark Angel."

"A rabid cur too wild to harness his anger properly," Khârn growled. "Had it been Azrael I would have been more impressed, but Asmodai pales to his Chapter Master."

"What's this," Nemeroth chortled. "Admiration for a Loyalist? Khorne's grip slacks on his Champion."

Eliphas rolled his eyes. Idiot keeps poking the beast…

Khârn wheeled and seemed to glow with simmering anger. "Shut it, Sorcerer," Khârn hissed back, "Or not even Khorne will want your corpse when I am done with it."

There was a groan from behind them. "You three bicker like Blake and I used to," came the voice of Adam Taurus. "Only difference is even our discourse made progress towards our goals."

"Spare them the soliloquy your love life, Mr. Taurus," said Eliphas as he turned back to his war table and began to reset his pieces. "You would waste your breath on beings who do not know the meaning of those emotions."

Outside, the sun glared harshly over the camp arrayed behind them, on the tiniest crack in the tent flaps letting the sunlight in. Arrayed before him was a map of the city of Vale, small of scale for portability but large enough for more detailed strategic planning based purely on the ideas of street-to-street conflict. Figures laid scattered around, courtesy of his palm as his first draft of a plan for the Invasion seemed to fall apart in his hands. The debacle with the abandoned train line had reset the board and forced pieces to move long before they were supposed to; not just the train, but the contingent of cultists to the Gods that had come were severely routed, many of them killed by the Imperial scum and their Huntsmen wards.

He growled as he set their piece, a group of black pawns, aside. More were coming, but with only three weeks—at most four—to organize the throngs, he was expecting it would turn into a pillaging spree. It would work to sow Chaos in the city, but unlike Astartes, human cultists had a habit of letting their lesser nature consume them.

Eliphas sighed as he turned to look back at the others in the tent. The other two Astartes stood in their armor, towering over their Faunus comrade. Taurus looked like a petulant child beside them, though Eliphas found his bristly demeanor quite good at keeping his menagerie of homegrown terrorists in check.

A shame he has not seen the benefit of the Gods' Blessings, he thought to himself as he turned to his board. He had reset everything to current intelligence; the Atlesian ships carved from a fallen log sat on their tall stands while pawns of white, black, blue, yellow and red represented forces arrayed in this theatre. The red pieces of the White Fang were scattered along the northern border of Vale, twenty in total stretched along the edge of the Emerald Forest to represent the 207 members of Adam's faction. Twenty squadrons of guerilla terrorists, hardly enough to take even a small Hive City.

He finished setting up the myriad black pieces. Grimm swarms denoted by his cults, each numbering twenty to fifty individual Grimm depending on the species. The bishop piece sat far to the edge, the twenty Goliaths that orbited the city, the pawns of Beowolf swarms congregated around them. Knights of thirty or more Ursai orbited near the edge of the walls, only repelled by the ferocious exterior defenses of Vale, while rooks of Nevermore flocks circled far back to the edge of the map.

And at the center, in the vicinity of Beacon, sat the black queen piece. The king remained off the board, quietly awaiting confirmation.

"I take it the plan's shifted," Adam quietly question behind him.

Eliphas stopped and turned his head. "Strategy has many phases, and this is but one of them," he said. "Something I know you are all too familiar with."

"I've made strategy before," he replied, "Though not of this scale."

"All strategy remains the same on a basic scale, even when your army is two hundred or fifteen thousand," Eliphas said.

"Any news on your cults, your yellow pieces?"

"Twenty-five coalitions of as little as fifty to as many as three hundred. Two more are on the way from Vacuo under the cover of a merchant convoy. I have them…" He paused as he took three of the yellow pawns and set them down near Redhearth. "…Ready to deploy here. They will sweep northwest towards the Industrial District with orders to cause as much panic as destruction until they reach the electrical grid."

"And then?"

"They will hold there and die there giving the Atlesian fools a distraction they will surely regret as the Grimm come down the center from the north. Either that, or while the Atlesians are busy with the Grimm, they will cut the power and sweep into the residential district and begin their slaughter."

Adam watched him with a visible uncertainty. "You can perform wanton slaughter if you wish," he said, "but we need survivors to send a message. I suggest we focus on breaking open Beacon, raze it to the ground and leave Vale to despair as their institutions smolder. The Grimm are our cannon fodder, and even the students will be too preoccupied."

Eliphas was bemused. "A good observation, Mr. Taurus," he conceded, "But forcing them to shore up in such a small area will only bolster their defenses; 'For every ten meters you condense an enemy defensive position, their defenses grow tenfold harder to break,' as Lord Perturabo once said. We force them to spread themselves, and the White Fang can punch a deeper hole in the tower's defenses when you make the order."

Adam's mind visibly processed the idea. "Fair enough," he said venomously, bristling as something else seemed to click in his mind. "Though I can't abide by how little you care about your men."

Eliphas chuckled, his chuckle a deep rumble through his vox. "They are servants of the Gods," he said. "While perhaps not as mad as the ones that first came here, nor anything in comparison to the cultists I wielded before, they serve their purpose. They know that their deaths only invigorate the zeal of their brethren, that the blood of martyrs will drown the corrupt and the impious."

"That's no excuse for you to treat them like expendable fodder," he said. "Some of them are Faunus, after all."

"Indeed, Faunus to number among their ranks. But their lives matter little in the Path of the Gods. Their sacrifice matters little if we fail."

Something about that made Adam's eyes alight with anger. "I'd watch your tongue," he said venomously.

"Oh? And what are you to do about it—"

There was a grinding sound that flashed for a hot second as a blur of red screamed past his vision. Adam's arm was extended behind him, Wilt flashing in the sunlight.

Eliphas heard the distinctive clink of bone meeting ceramite as he saw one of the horn tips of his helmet bounce off his chestplate and tumble to the earth. He felt a flash of hot rage in his veins before he let it out in a deep breath.

Adam said nothing, standing as still as a stone. Khârn and Nemeroth had turned to watch them with bemused looks.

Eliphas looked down at the horn, feeling that anger again. Adam had damaged the Helm of Lorgar, his Father's sole gift to him… a piece of the Primarch that had been carried to this world with him. The anger began to boil a bit in his veins as he reached down for the horn piece. He looked back between Adam and the horn twice.

"…your point is made," he hissed in a dangerous rumble. "But I advise you never strike me again… if you value your life."

Adam said nothing, only turning his blade and drawing the blade along the scabbard before sheathing it.

"…and now, representing Beacon, Team RWBY!"

The next match had begun on the stolen holoscreen. Adam's head turned just slightly.

Eliphas smirked under his helmet. "I wonder if your partner is bearing her ears or not," he said.

Adam bristled again, turning his attention back to the holoscreen. Just at that moment, the Faunus girl appeared on the screen, wearing a reserved but saccharine smile as she waved to the crowds with her team. Adam walked up to the screen, his attention now elsewhere.

"Blake… why would you…"

Nemeroth chuckled. "I wonder if he sees her as partner or as a potential toy to fu—"

Again, Wilt was drawn as Adam stared the Terminator down. "Don't. Ever. Say those things about Blake," he said in a simmering growl.

Nemeroth's smile dropped off as the sword threatened to pierce his face. Eliphas smirked as he wondered if this would convince the idiot to wear a helmet.

"Even when she ran," Khârn asked. "Even when she seems to have sided with the enemy?"

"She may have taken a different path," he said, "but she was still my partner. And she still is."

Khârn snorted. "And what if you have to fight her?"

"I'll talk her down into backing off. Blake always sees reason, even where there is none," he said.

"And… if she doesn't?"

Eliphas smirked again as Adam seemed stumped. His sword arm slacked just slightly.

"Save your anger for the fight," Khârn said. "Let the righteous anger build in your heart."

Adam said nothing, sheathing his sword. He turned and walked to the front flap of the tent, stopping halfway through.

"You have something to—"

"I will never hurt Blake," he said quietly. "But… I will fight her if I have to."

He stepped out and let the tent flaps fall.

Eliphas shook his head. "Naïve boy," he said. "He would have made for a good one of Sanguinius' bastard sons."

"He would have made a good World Eater with the Nails in his head," Khârn replied.

"Regardless, his allegiance is affirmed," added Nemeroth. "What of the cults?"

"They will be here, Sorcerer," Eliphas said.

"And the Great Beasts?"

"Of course," said Khârn. "A Grimm that does not hunger for strife is a Bloodletter without its teeth."

Eliphas nodded as he turned back to the table and continued to set up the board. He winced as the tent opened and his ears were assaulted with the words, "My Lord Eliphas! I have a message!"

Eliphas growled. "What is it," he said as he turned and was met with the sight of his hunchbacked acolyte Yrtruvian, a paper transcript of a vox communique in his hand.

"It is from The Brotherhood of the Faithful Eyes," he said as he bowed and let Eliphas take the message. The Word Bearer noticed it had been written hastily and clearly with panic, as if it meant the difference between life and death; The Faithful Eyes were orderly and disciplined, masters of deception and observation raised from vagabonds in Mistral's underbelly.

"Have they been spotted," he asked calmly, assessing options.

"No, Sire," Yrtruvian replied, "They spotted something instead!"

Eliphas nodded and began to read the letter frantically scrawled out.

His smile grew as the intel came in. "Excellent," he purred. "I presume no survivors?"

"None but the few who made it with the information, My Lord."

"Give them extra rations and prepare an offering to Khorne for the slaughter to be released," he said, turning back to his table and reaching for a piece.

"Shall I pull from the Faithful," asked Yrtruvian, "or take of the prisoners?"

At that moment, there was a sound of a conflict outside. There was a woman screaming for help, only for the sound of her voice to be muffled by a gag.

Eliphas hummed. Yrtruvian offered a great smile in anticipation as Khârn watched them silently.

"Leave them be, Yrtruvian," Eliphas said. "They will serve their purpose soon… send out a request for any faithful who are willing. Khorne prefers a willing sacrifice."

Yrtruvian's eyes darkened in disappointment, but still he smiled and bowed before turning and fleeing out the tent.

Eliphas nodded and turned back to the table. "Their time shall be soon…"

He stared down at the black king piece now on the edge of the Emerald Forest, slowly making its way towards the front line.


… Pain…

where… am I?

I… it isn't the hard ground… no…

He scrunched his brow in pain. His head ached like it were a drum being pounded on.

"Hey, he's coming to!"

"About time."

Those voices… he didn't recognize them.

"He's a Dark Angel, of course he's taking his sweet time waking up."

Those words woke him up.

He tried to rise as he eyes blinked open. He felt a hand touch his shoulder, sending a chill up his spine. Instinctively, he reached for the hand.

"Easy," came a gruff voice. "Calm down, Chaplain."

That only sent his nerves further on edge. He tried to shrug the hand off.

"Steady, Son of the Lion!"

That stopped him. High Gothic.

Asmodai's eyes began to open properly. He was met with the sight of a sharply-dressed doctor with short black hair and a thick mustache on his face.

"Took quite the head injury, didn't you," came the accented High Gothic. It had been so long, to hear the Holy Tongue again was like wine to his ears.

"…zet… soloun Emperalis," he asked, letting the tongue come back to him. 'You are Imperial?'

He nodded. Asmodai felt his anger and terror drop, though it still remained.

"Sol, I am," said the doctor, switching back to the local dialect, "though I haven't had to speak High Gothic in several decades."

Asmodai nodded. "An… understandable dilemma," he said as he began to reorient himself. He found himself in an apothecariat, surrounded by several individuals; One was a dark-skinned man with a bright green undershirt and quite brawny, and another was a man in cargo pants and a deep red shirt with a symbol on the chest that he did recognize vaguely, some kind of bird clutching a blood drop.

The dark-skinned man walked up with a keen brilliance to his red-tinted irises, as if he was studying Asmodai closely. "Apologies that we had to meet with you concussed," he said, offering a hand to shake. Asmodai noticed the pock-marks of heat scarring on his arm that denoted time in front of a forge.

He took the hand tentatively, having put the pieces together. "Well met, Salamander," he said.

The Salamander smirked, though the caution never left his eyes. "Please, please," he said, "There is no need for that. Call me He'Stan if you would prefer."

Asmodai wracked his memory searching for that name. He hated the processing speed of a mortal mind; it was like a snail's pace where an Astartes' mind was like a Land Speeder's. How did they do all of this?

"He'Stan… I think I recognize that name."

"And I thought the Dark Angels remembered everything."

Asmodai stopped his handshake, only to grip the Salamander's hand tightly. That voice… he knew it. It made his blood boil almost as much as any of the filthy Traitors did.

The other Imperials around him seemed to tense up. Asmodai turned, his mind already processing what he expected to see; the towering form of a Terminator is blue-grey armor, covered in flea-riddled pelts and illuminated by a daemon-infused blade of hellish red.

He was met instead by a man of perhaps his late thirties or early forties in mortal years, blonde as the sun with a short cut and an immensely long, knotted beard. He was clad in a bluish-grey sweater, a white undershirt showing at the neckline while dark brown pants and what the locals called 'steel-toed boots' covered his bottom half. On the chest sat a pin—a wolf rearing back and snarling—attached to a leather bandolier slung over his left shoulder and under his left arm.

And on the back of the bandolier, that red, daemonic axe sat, dimly glowing with the heat of the daemon that his Librarius had sensed in it.

Asmodai felt the hair on his back reach far off his back.

"Hello, Dark Angel," said the Great Wolf.

"Grimnar," he hissed.

Several of the other Imperials stepped closer to the Wolf. Asmodai felt a touch of outrage at that.

"It has been a long time, Chaplain," the Space Wolf said quietly. "A long time since Fenris…"

"Indeed," he said. "I remember well the procession where they laid your corpse in The Fang."

His attempts to get under the Wolf's skin seemed to make no purchase. "A Son of Russ' greatest honor is defending his home," he said. "And as you can see, even death cannot hold me… and the same for you."

"Then would you care to explain this hell that we've clearly been experiencing," he asked rhetorically. "Clearly we have been reduced to lowly mortals by some manner of Warp shenanigans."

"That clearly did not stop you from joining the Huntsman Corps," Grimnar growled back.

"You can't arm a world from the bottom of the heap," he said. "On such a Daemon-infested world so far from The Emperor's Light I must play the locals' game if I am to set it upon the right path."

That seemed to dig under Grimnar's skin. "Do not be so certain that this is the right path," he replied.

Asmodai blinked in surprise. To his scripture-wrapped mind, such a string of words was tantamount to heresy, blasphemy that would leave a fellow Dark Angel screaming in agony as he branded and broke them, squeezing the confessions and the renouncement of such an idea from them. "You… would—"

The Salamander stepped in. "That's enough, Asmodai," he said. "We are not your enemy."

Asmodai stiffened as he backed up a step. "Right," he said hesitantly. "I suppose it is better to know some other Imperials besides my fellow Angels… or their… descendants are here," he said with a tint of disdain.

He did not expect their collective reaction of surprise. "Fellow Angels," asked the Salamander. "You mean, more Astartes?"

"I meant sons of the First Legion," he said. Surely, they knew about the settlement, right?

Apparently not. Most of the people present seemed surprised. Who was that blonde woman in the back corner, looking back and forth between their apothecary ward and the next one over?

"I wonder how many of them are part of that Unforgiven the book mentions," she said.

Asmodai's stomach shriveled in on itself. For the first time in centuries he felt ill as the word 'Unforgiven' was said by an outsider.

"What… was that… you said?"

She seemed to clam up too, her pallor dropping to a tone not unlike her hair.

Grimnar stepped in the way, blocking his line of sight. "Asmodai," he growled, "Hold up for a minute—"

Asmodai wouldn't hear it, shoving past the Space Wolf. "What was that you said," he repeated, his blood beginning to boil.

She wheeled on him. "Look, I don't—"

He didn't let her finish, grabbing the collar of her jacket. "What do you know," he growled angrily. "What do you—"

He was in turn interrupted as he felt strong hands grab his arms and pull him back. He instinctively struggled, but as he processed their hold, he realized they had grabbed him at angles where he couldn't shake them loose, even if her knew how to shake bigger opponents off.

"Calm down," came the thick accented one.

"Get off me!"

"You need to stop," came the Salamander's voice in their usual calm tone. "There is no reason to fight."

His complicity clicked in Asmodai's mind. If they knew the term, then they…

They knew.

Nausea and anger spiked in unison. He thrashed desperately. "You cannot know! I refuse to believe—get off of me! You're, you—"

"We know about The Fallen!"

Hearing someone say it seemed to take the wind out of his sails. His thrashing stopped as he turned to face the speaker again.

Grimnar gave him a hard stare. "We know about the Fallen, Asmodai."

To hear it from other Imperials made his stomach turn to ice and his blood to magma. To hear a Wolf say it… that was something he was not prepared for.

He backed off as they let go of him. His heart hammered in his chest. His head pounded with pain.

The Wolf approached him cautiously, like he was some rabid animal. "Easy, Chaplain…"

"H…. how…"

The words left his mouth without his consent.

"It's… complicated," he said. "But we know about what happened on Caliban. What your… what was it called?"

"The Inner Circle," replied the red-clad Astartes.

"Right, right. We know the basic details. No need to hide it from us."

Asmodai took a step back. "You do not understand," he said, spite rising in his voice. His vision was beginning to turn red. "You do not understand the shame, the black mark upon our honor—"

"Do not lecture us about honor," the other Astartes replied. "Your Legion was not the first to see treason and civil war in its ranks, and it was also not the last one to do so. My Chapter nearly tore a Sub-Sector apart in its civil war, the worst for you was the loss of Caliban!"

Asmodai felt the outrage boil his blood. "You dare to lecture me," he said, wheeling on the man despite being a half-foot shorter than him. "You did not lose your Primarch to your brethren's treachery!"

The Astartes seemed to want to say something, looking around him, presumably to the other two whom were present. A rebuttal of some kind? A retort?

Asmodai hissed his answer. "This is our black mark to bear… this is our failing… and we will guard it with our lives and the lives of others if need be."

"Is that a threat," he replied in a cool tone. "It's not wise to fight a Chapter Master, even if I am out of my armor."

Asmodai hated when Astartes of other Chapters threw their ranks around. His purpose was beyond the confines of the rank-and-file drudgery he had once been a part of; his task was one of repentance and punishment, and those things superseded any petty ideas of rank. He felt his hand clench angrily.

"Gabriel, that's enough," barked the medicae. "We have enough problems without you trying to incite a fight."

"Stand back, Scorpion," said 'Gabriel', "This is something between us."

"No, Pythol is right," said Logan as he approached from the side. "We should leave him with his thoughts. We do him no favors by riling him up."

Asmodai bristled as he turned to face Grimnar. "You already have, Wolf," he growled. He brought his fist back.

He saw everyone around him brace up, looking ready to fight.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and a surge of energy.

"Lights out," he heard 'Pythol' say.

And the last thing he knew was the sensation of falling forwards and the dread that spiked and then fell in his body.


The grimace that crossed his face betrayed his worry. "I don't know, guys…"

Around him, the crowd roared in opposition as the sound of gunfire echoed across the stands.

"They got them on the ropes, there's no way for them to—"

"Nolan just tagged Blake out of the ring."

Jaune blinked. "What!?"

Ren pointed across the way, a very limp Blake falling and hitting the floor below. Her Aura crackled and gave way as she smacked the floor below her. Jaune winced in sympathy.

Pyrrha hummed thoughtfully beside him. "Yang has to deal with the other two on her own…"

Again, Jaune grimaced. This fight between RWBY and BRNZ was tense, already having gone on for… five minutes? He didn't have a watch like Jacob did, he couldn't say how much time, but it was clear it was a neck-and-neck fight.

He saw Ruby and Weiss standing back-to-back as two of the boys of BRNZ—their eponymous leader Branwz Ni and Roy Stallion—circled around them, battering them with a flurry of melee attacks. Jaune was impressed that in such a tight space both Ruby and Weiss were still doing a good job of holding the line against the two of them, Weiss meeting Ni's attacks in a dance of blades amidst the lava fields.

The battlefield was split along two halves, each one an extreme battlefield of some kind rather than the Lone Wolf Free-For-All had been. Most of the fighters were currently in the volcanic half, black stone oozing with what looked like fake lava—even he could perceive that the lava was simply Fire Dust pumped through something viscous to give the illusion and heat of lava without the threat of turning a person into a melted puddle. Across the way, though, the bursts of fire and loud yelling from the tall grass of the savanna half of the area told of an impending firestorm once Yang finally hit the right shot to kindle the lone baobab tree where the Zedong girl was hiding.

Another shot rang out and a column of rock erupted from beside Ruby as she spun her scythe and blocked a sword swipe from Stallion. Jaune was twiddling his thumbs in worried anticipation now… everyone was below 50% Aura now, but with Blake out—

"RAAAAAGH!"

A colossal plume of fire erupted from the tall grass and smacked into the tree, releasing a colossal shockwave on impact. The branches shook and the tree seemed to shudder as if struck with a cold chill. A loud crack echoed out as the tree shuddered again. It listed hard on its north side.

Out of the corner of his vision, he saw Jacob and Nora shoot up onto their feet, cupping their hands around their mouths.

"TIMBER!"

"Timberrr!"

Overhead, Port's voice came on the loudspeakers. "TIMBERRR!"

And with that the colossal, presumably fake baobab tree toppled over like a pillar of rock. Jaune felt his face light up with a smile at the sight as it came down hard, the impact sending a gust of air out and flattening the grass around it.

Yang appeared out of the bending grass, shielding her face with her arm. Behind her was the fourth member of Team BRNZ, shielding his own face as his electrical baton glowed with electricity.

"Yang, behind you," called out Jacob, sitting just ahead of Jaune.

Whether she had actually heard him or not didn't matter, she was already spinning on her heels and bringing up a superhero punch. The boy—Nolan… Something-or-Other—couldn't even blink before he was five feet in the air, his baton following behind him as he took the full force of Yang's punch in the jaw.

"Oh, my word," Jaune heard Mrs. Nikos say behind him as Nolan flew for a solid four seconds and hit the ground, tumbling back. His Aura shot back, dipping into the red; he had dropped into the 10% threshold.

"What a spectacular move from Ms. Xiao Long," said Oobleck overhead. "A one-hit KO courtesy of a tremendous uppercut, and Mr. Porfirio is out of the fight!"

The crowd was in a delighted uproar at that. Jaune smiled and pumped his fist in the air. "Whoo! Go Yang!"

He saw Pyrrha beside him cheer. "Go Yang!"

"Don't celebrate too soon," Jacob said excitedly but… urgently, Jaune noted, "they still got three to remove…"

"Petalwind!"

His timing was impeccable as Ruby and Weiss seemed to have formed a swirling vortex of icy wind and rose petals that was in the process of pulling the other two boys in, the very air yanking their legs out from underneath them. He could hear them screaming in surprise as they rose up and spun like a top, only for the rose petals heralding the blindingly-fast Ruby to shoot up and pull them along for the ride.

"Woah," he caught himself saying aloud as they reached easily fifty feet into the air.

The vortex stopped as Ruby manifested above the two, spinning with Crescent Rose's barrel extended to face them. A sharp 'Ching-Crack!' roared out as the two boys reversed course and plummeted at speeds clearly faster than gravity.

Jaune didn't watch as they fell into a fake geyser were immediately spat out by boiling steam. Another twenty-foot hop in the air later, Roy and Brawnz tumbled to the ground in a heap, their Auras equally exhausted as they sat at 5% each.

Ruby zipped back to the ground in her red blur form and stopped right in front of Weiss, giving off that toothy smile that warmed Jaune to the core. It was weird getting the same vibes being around Ruby as being with his sisters, how much she… wasn't like them. Sure, a few of them were excitable and giddy, but Ruby… was different.

Regardless, the crowd was loving her as the cameras focused on her and Weiss, the latter giving the former a bemused smirk of approval before turning their attention towards the baobab tree. Jaune could see the foliage rustling as May burst from them, stumbling onto the fallen trunk. She drew her sniper rifle in its axe form, but the look on her face was clearly tired and clearly out of her depth. She glanced behind her, seeing Yang turning around and pumping her fists together. She glanced before her, seeing Weiss starting to summon a glyph.

He saw her mouth the words 'Damnit, all by myself as usual,' before she leapt in the air and swung her axe hard in an over-the-head cut. Jaune was no master of reflex, but he was able to spot the spark of fire Dust that surged from the barrel into the axe head as it came down, Weiss and Ruby barely having time to react.

Jaune figured it out. "Uh oh."

The axe hit the ground, and a torrent of flames roared forwards at Weiss and Ruby. Ruby ducked out of the way with that lightning speed he was used to seeing from her; Weiss, however fast as she was, was not fast enough to avoid a spout of fire flashing her in the face. She stumbled back, trying to rub the soot from her eyes as the Fire Dust kicked up a cloud of ash.

Jaune saw May rush into the ash cloud kicked up, a burst of Dust behind her; Fire dust in particular.

"Oh my God," Pyrrha said aloud, "is she—"

"Yup," came Mr. Niko's voice, "last-ditch charge."

Jaune felt disappointment as it payed off. Ruby, unable to see her, charged the cloud probably in hopes of catching May with Crescent Rose.

Instead, Zedong exited out the plume of ash a quarter-second before Ruby plunged into it, her axe now back into sniper rifle form. Weiss was still trying to wipe the soot from her eyes.

"Weiss, look out," he heard Neptune call out.

She might have heard him, but it was too late. May's rifle smacked Weiss dead in the sternum, toppling Weiss over as Zedong followed. For a hot second, Weiss' Aura supported the full weight of May and her weapon as the Huntress balanced on the barrel of the gun.

A sharp bang, and May zoomed into the air. Rock and debris shot up with her as Weiss suddenly disappeared into a crater, letting out a cry of surprise. Her Aura zipped from 15% downwards as it blipped red.

"Holy shit, she pogo-ed!"

Jaune didn't hear Mr. Nikos correct Jacob. On the field, Ruby zipped back around and shot into the air, following May. Another torrent of flames revealed Yang following behind her baby sister, roaring angrily.

He watched May for a reaction, and was answered with her spinning in a complete 360-degree spin, taking aim and firing. Ruby's momentum stopped cold-turkey in an explosion of fire, her Aura sizzling and clinging desperately to her.

Yang zipped past her, grabbing her arm. "Corkscrew!"

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Nora jump up out her seat with an excited yowl as Ruby and Yang locked hands and Yang's gauntlet fire a shell, pulling them into a spin. The two launched forwards as Ruby's Semblance seemingly fired off, a trail of red and, surprisingly, yellow rose petals following behind them as they turned into blurs of their respective colors.

Pyrrha gasped. The two sisters appeared right over May and, without a second lost, swung down with their respective weapons.

May let out a cry the whole way down before slamming into the volcanic ground next to Weiss, making a pair of craters in the ground. Ruby and Yang descended in that rose petal blur from before, stumbling out of it as they reached the ground. The crowd around the arena had drowned out anything they said in a cacophony of praise.

"And that's the match! The winner by full-team knockout, Team RWBY!"

Jaune had to wince as Nora screamed with excitement, leaping a good five feet in the air before bouncing back down into her seat, pulling Ren into a hug. Jaune didn't see the rest of it as Pyrrha pulled him into a hug of their own. He couldn't help but smile as he returned it.

But ahead of him, Jaune noticed that Jacob seemed to have a relaxed look about him, his shoulders sagging and his left arm wiping his brow. Something was eating at him—

"And now it's time for a quick break," came Oobleck's voice, "We'll be back in one hour for Team JNPR of Vale versus team ABRN of Haven!"

"In the meantime, please enjoy some of the amenities at the fairgrounds, and stay safe out there!"

"That's our queue," Nora said with a laugh, bounding past Jaune. "Come on, I'm starving and a victory is a perfect excuse for lunch out!"

"Nora," Jaune said as he and Pyrrha rose, "maybe we should get ready, instead?"

She blew a raspberry dismissively. "You can't fight on an empty stomach, right? Come on, I know the perfect noodle stop not far from the ground station."

Ren was noticeably hesitant. "I don't know, Nora," he said, "It's never a good idea to fight on a full stomach."

"Nonsense," Pyrrha said with that trademark smile, "It will give us an energy boost!"

Jaune rattled it around in his head for a second, only to hear and feel his stomach protest in Pyrrha's favor. It was quickly joined by Nora and Pyrrha's own stomachs, both ladies blushing hard with sheepish smiles.

Jaune let out a weak chuckle.

"Yeah, I think that decides it," Jacob said as he rose to his feet and stretched, only to wince and hold his side. "When stomachs roar, you answer the call."

Jaune let out a breath in a sigh. "Fair enough."

Pyrrha beamed at them both. "We'll grab RWBY and get some noodles," she said, fishing into the small pocket in her skirt just under her sash. A second later, she produced her credit card, just as bronze as her armor and sporting her personal symbol. "My treat."

"Pyrrha, no," piped up Mr. and Mrs. Nikos in unison. Mr. Nikos took over, continuing with, "please, honey, let us."

Pyrrha blushed in that way all kids blushed at their parent's doting. "Dad, it's fine, I have plenty enough on my card," she said. "I've yet to use it since I got to Beacon!"

"Well, consider it our encouragement for Team JNPR to do well," he said with a bemused, joking smile.

"Dad," she said, still blushing, only for Jacob to step up and grab her shoulder with that reassuring look in his eyes.

"Here," he said, fishing out a wad of Lien, "we'll split the bill, okay?"

Pyrrha seemed to hesitate, but nodded with a smile.

Jaune felt a hand on his own shoulder. He turned and was met with that scary smile Nora was getting a reputation for having.

"You're gonna need to pull a tab," she said, looking at Jacob, "Cause I'm starving."

Jaune felt that cold shiver down his spine as he turned to look again at Jacob. The older boy in question was looking a little pale himself.

"Open mouth, insert foot…"


"Oh, man… is anyone else starving?"

"I might have worked up an appetite."

There was a loud, indecent growling sound. Blake's face lit up with a blush of embarrassment.

Weiss grimaced and suppressed a roll of her eyes as Nora giggled off to her side. "About time we all got something," she said, "Lunchtime was two hours ago!"

"Nora," she heard Jacob say as he led them, turning his head back, "There's nothing wrong with a late lunch or early dinner. Just means we might need a smidge of a snack before we turn in for the night; good for the waistline."

"Uh-huh," Yang said, zipping up beside him and tapping the small gut he had left. "You're one to talk."

"Hey!"

Now Weiss rolled her eyes, though she couldn't suppress a smirk. She couldn't help but find it funny that the shenanigans she abhorred before now felt normal around her, and actually… funny.

"Regardless, it was a good fight," Jacob said. "I meant to ask about that thig you guys did, actually; I've never seen you do that before."

"I know," Ruby said in the excitement of discovery, "I don't even know what I did to cause it! I just pulled Yang along for the ride! I've never been able to jump into my full Semblance with someone else! Oooh, I wonder if I…"

Weiss rolled them again as she let Ruby continue to jabber on. Father would be blowing a gasket right now, associating with 'the riff-raff', she thought to herself with giddy bemusement as their massive group wandered through the fairgrounds just outside the urban part of the city. Vendors from around the world had set up shop in the green pastures with wooden stands and pop-up tents, signs and banners pointing to everything from greasy deep-fried foods from Vale's own backyard to noodle shops from Mistral, boardwalk game stands and other knick-knack stores in a colorful cavalcade of garish decorations.

There was never anything like this in Atlas. Everything was always so sterile, so… Weiss couldn't say what it was, save that it felt artificial somehow. The word in particular escaped her, she realized, being so far from home…

"Look at you being all smiles," she heard out of the corner of her hearing.

The voice in question only made her smile brighter. "Neptune," she said, whipping around and finding him striding alongside her left side, "how in the world did you sneak up on us?"

"Same way I did," came the voice of Sun Wukong on her right side. She heard a few of the others start at Sun's sudden appearance.

"Oh, you," she said in bemusement and ire alike, shoving Wukong back next to Blake. "I hope we were good fun to watch?"

"You guys were fantastic," Neptune said. She felt a flutter in her chest at that as he continued, adding, "That snowstorm move was so cool!"

"Oh, Petalstorm? Yeah, it's my idea of a combo move," Ruby said, zipping up beside Sun and beaming proudly.

Weiss butted in "Actually, it was our idea," she said, giving Ruby a look.

"Uh, well, yes, but I was the one to suggest we come up with a new attack," she said, trying to assert herself. Weiss sighed and rolled her eyes.

"As far as I'm concerned, it doesn't matter," Sun said, "that kicked ass."

"It was impressive, no doubt about that," came the voice of Pyrrha's father from the back of the group, a bemusement in his voice. "You gentlemen had best hope you can match them."

"It's funny," added Neptune, "I was hoping to see Bumblebee in action," he said with a smirk as he looked back at Blake. The smile dropped as he seemed to realize the faux pas that Weiss had immediately noticed. "Uh, not that I'm saying that Blake wasn't pulling her weight… gah, I had to open my mouth, didn't I," he added, slapping himself in the face in reaction.

Weiss heard Blake giggle. "No, I get it," she said, "and I'm hoping we can use it in the doubles round," she said. "But I have to wonder, when is Team SSSN going up?"

"Oh, we're tomorrow's batch," said Sage as he joined them near the lead, sharing a fist bump with Jacob as he entered. "We're up against Team FNKI."

"FNKI," Jaune asked.

"An Atlas Academy team?"

"Yep," Sun said as he brought his hands up behind his head. "Knowing their type, we've got this one in the bag."

Weiss heard the underhanded comment a second before Sun said it. "Atlas Academy's Huntsman Corps is second to none, save Beacon," she said. "Discipline and efficiency are the backbone of their training regimens. Do not expect them to be a cakewalk."

Weiss felt a hint of offense when Sun simply shrugged. "If you say so," he replied. "Hey, does anyone know who Team CFVY is fighting?"

"I heard it was Team CMSN," Ren said as he joined them near the front.

"Ah, Cinder's team," Weiss deduced. "I don't see them very often outside of the cafeteria and the sparring ring… do we know anything about them?"

"Not really," Jacob replied from up front as they approached the nearest noodle stand. "I've got some hunches on some of their Semblances and fight styles, but outside of that I can't say."

"I know Cinder's friendly," Ruby added, only inciting Weiss' eyes to roll again.

"I'm sure they'll make it far, too," Pyrrha said as they all took seats at the counter. "I confess I have been hoping for a chance to fight Mercury."

"Oh, really?"

Weiss wheeled around and was met with the site of the smug grin of the man in question.

"I'd like to see you try," he said as Emerald Sustrai walked up from behind him with an equally-smug smile.

"Hey," Ruby started, walking up to them, "I was wondering where you guys were!"

Emerald gave Ruby a smile as she approached. Something about the smile drew Weiss' attention… years of watching Father's dealing and scheming with the Atlesian aristocracy gave her a chance to pick out details. The smile… it was too wide, her brow just a bit scrunched, like it was forced. Yet her eyes didn't have that glint of malice she was used to with forced smiles. Was Emerald socially awkward? That would explain the forcefulness. But then why was she here in the middle of the fairgrounds…

The two shook hands. "Nice to see you too, Ruby," Emerald said. "I was coming over to say you guys did amazing out there!"

Now that sounded genuine. Weiss suppressed her analytical side as she decided to return the smile. "I'm certain your team will wow us, too," she offered back with a curtsey.

Emerald offered back a dismissive wave. "Oh, stop, you," she said.

"No, she's right," Ruby said, "I'm sure you guys will do great! So, you guys out for lunch too?"

"Yeah, wanted to see what the fairgrounds were like, mainly," Mercury replied with a smirk, leaning onto the counter. "Wanted to scope out the competition too."

"Fair enough," replied Pyrrha. "How about you join us? My treat!"

"Oh, that's so nice of you, Pyrrha," Emerald said with a smile, "But we don't want to intrude."

"Oh, nonsense," she replied as she took a stool next to Weiss. "We're all footing the bills for one another!"

Emerald gave an obviously playful hum as she tapped her chin. "Well, I suppose, if Ruby's paying for us." Her other hand slowly slinked up, revealing a debit card of red and black; Weiss recognized it immediately as Ruby's.

Said teammate began to panic as she fished into the pockets on her skirt, panicking as she realized what had happened. "Oh, I can't believe I dropped it," she said in embarrassment, turning a shade of red mimicking a rose. "Stupid lady-pockets!"

Emerald chuckled. "Hey, at least we were the ones who found it," she said, handing it back as Weiss began to fish about for her own in her hand purse. "Could have been one of Torchwick's goons."

"Fair enough," Jacob called out from the far side of the stand. "That's why money works wonders and plastic is the worst." He fished out his leather wallet and produced several bills of Lien from the main fold.

"The smartest thing I've heard all day," Mercury said.

Weiss sighed. "Say what you will about credit," she began, "but when you are waiting for the next payment you receive, it helps to be able to pay ahead." She turned to the vendor with her card in hand and said, "I'm paying for Team JNPR."

He nodded and sharply turned.

Pyrrha smiled. "One salmon bowl, please."

Jaune hummed aloud. "Got any sandwiches?"

A nod and a grunt. Jaune gave him a sheepish chuckle.

"Eh-heh, then, uh, one regular bowl," he said.

"Vegetable bowl," Ren added.

"Big Bowl," Nora called out, "and make it spicy!"

He nodded and zipped back behind the door with unusually fast speed.

"Am I crazy or is he all over the place in the Commercial District," Jacob said quietly. Weiss didn't have enough time to respond as he zipped back out, depositing the bowls with inhuman speed. The bowls were not much different from one another, save for the towering heap of noodles and ham that was Nora's Big Bowl. She was visibly infatuated with it, stars in her eyes as she began to drool.

Weiss smiled as she offered the credit card. "Should be refilled," she said as he took it and zipped back to his register.

"Oh, thank you, Weiss," Pyrrha said, "Dad had been offering to pay—"

"Consider it my way of saying 'good luck' to you guys," she said with a smirk.

Thwap!

All eyes darted to the countertop. Weiss' card had been buried in the wooden counter like a throwing knife.

That's a Sapphire card, she thought briefly, those are ridiculously expensive!

"Hey," she said looking up, "What's the—"

She was met with the sight of the register blinking red; her card had been declined.

"What?! How can my card be declined!? I hadn't even touched this month's allowance!"

He growled as he darted to and swiped JNPR's bowls. He was stopped by Nora, who was gripping the bowl madly, forcing them into a tug of war.

"Maybe something you bought was more expensive than you thought," Ruby offered.

"Impossible, have you seen that binder she calls a ledger," Blake added.

Blake's stealth insult was ignored as Weiss began to process this. Her card wasn't supposed to be locked up like this…

"Here," Mrs. Nikos said, "We'll pay for their bowls, sir." She offered her own credit card to the shopkeep, who immediately stopped his tug-of-war, almost sending Nora toppling. He took it and rang it, the light changing to green in approval.

Weiss sheepishly took her credit card back and cleared her throat. "Anyway," she said, "I think we're all ordering for one another."

"Yep," Jacob said. "I got you guys and myself," he said.

"Jacob, you don't need to do that," Yang said as she took out her own debit card.

"Call it my treat for winning," he said. "I'll do the Sausage bowl, skip the egg, please."

Weiss nodded in appreciation, though her mind was elsewhere. Something felt off about the card… it had been Father's gift to her before she left…

She felt her Scroll buzz. She instinctively reached down and picked it up. She was met with the sight of "FATHER" on the screen.

She immediately knew what was going on.

She grimaced and canceled the call, dropping her Scroll on the table maybe a little too hard.

"Weiss?"

She turned to Blake. "Hmm?"

"You okay," asked Blake with a worried look.

Weiss hesitated. "Yes," she said after a second. "Everything's fine."

"No, it isn't," Jacob said matter-of-factly. "Daddy Dearest being a pain in the ass, I'd reckon."

Weiss felt a blush come over her. "No, nothing like that."

"Ooh, it's exactly that," Sun said as he received a bowl full of noodles and what she presumed was cubed chicken breast.

Nora gulped down another bite from her giant bowl, before letting out a small, unladylike burp. "Daddy wants to butt in," she said.

"Yeah, well, Jacques can go dive head first into an empty pool," Jacob said as his bowl came out and he took out a fork and spoon.

"Wait, you seriously eat noodles with a fork and spoon," asked Neptune flatly.

Jacob shrugged. "I suck with chopsticks."

"What is his deal," Yang asked.

"Any father would worry about his daughter, I would reckon," Mr. Nikos replied. "Though I do concede he seems a snake rather than a lion."

Weiss nodded as she turned to the Shopkeep. "One low-salt bowl, please, with ham."

She heard her teammates make their orders, only for her attention to be pulled back to her Scroll; it was buzzing again.

She stared at it before staring at the others. Mercury and Emerald simply shrugged.

"Wow, he's really intent on getting to you," Jaune admonished.

"Indeed," added Mr. Nikos, running a hand through his long blonde hair. "He's probably wanting to congratulate you."

Weiss couldn't suppress her disgust. "I doubt that," she said aloud, finding herself in eye contact with Blake.

Her teammate nodded. "Her father, from what she's described, sounds like the kind of guy who gives out praise as often as misers give out coin," she said.

"It feels too coincidental," Jacob added as he finished a noodle. "I'd answer it, but don't trust a word he says."

Weiss looked to her teammates for their opinions. Ruby, Blake and Yang nodded quietly as they worked on their bowls.

Weiss felt her stomach plummet. She was realizing now just how much she really didn't want this, and yet… maybe there was a connection?

She moved to pick up her Scroll, only to see a hand on it as it rang a third time. Mr. Nikos picked her Scroll up, studying it. "May I," he asked.

Weiss caught on to his intent, though she was confused by his plan. She nodded.

He didn't break eye contact as he hit the call button. "Hello? Who is this?"

Weiss grimaced at the buzzing voice of her father through the Scroll. She couldn't hear exactly what he was saying, but she could hear the slight tone of incredulity she was used to.

"This is Dante Nikos," Mr. Nikos replied, "picking up on her behalf… yes, the Huntsman… yes, that same Pyrrha Nikos is my daughter."

She heard her father's tone flub quickly into his negotiator tone.

"No, no, she's occupied with something at the moment," he added, looking to her and nodding. "Trying to figure out why her card was being declined…"

Weiss felt a spike of surprise. Was he…?

"I've been offering to pay, but she insists that the Schnee coffers can afford a few bowls of Mistrali noodles."

Several voices erupted into guffaws and howls of laughter. Nora spilled the last few noodles in her bowl on herself as she toppled back, Jacob giving Dante a bewildered and bemused look of surprise that screamed the words 'you can't be seriously doing this' as he pushed his bowl aside. Pyrrha looked flabbergasted at her father's blatant manipulations while Ruby was snickering and holding back her laughter. Beside her, Neptune doubled over with a shocked look as he seemed to process the moment with the biggest confused look on his face as Wukong started wheezing out a laugh.

As for Weiss, she was absolutely dumbfounded. Her father was a stubborn one, always wanting to come out on top. To turn the victory on its head like that…

A few more buzzes of sound. Mr. Nikos nodded sagely. "Excellent," he said. "My daughter and I look forward to possible proposals on your part next time we're in Atlas. Thank you… yes, of course, I will let her know… of course, Sir. Have a good day."

He clicked the phone off and set it back down with a devious smirk. His wife was blushing deeply as she sat by him, letting the moment process in her mind if the look in her eyes were any indication.

He let out a laugh that sounded like honey made into sound, smooth and kind. "You should find your card reinstated here soon. If your father's tone is any indicator, he is probably celebrating a lucrative 'sponsorship' for Team JNPR… that is definitely not happening," he added, picking up a glass of water and draining it wholesale.

"Dante, you sly dog," she heard Jacob say, "that was genius! Probably not permanent, but still genius!"

"Being in our line of work, you have to be sharp-witted," he said. "And that doesn't have to just apply to the battlefield."

"I hear that," Yang said. "What made you think he was the one to cancel her card?"

"Call it intuition," he said. "What is sounds like is that he is a controlling type, and nothing says control quite like cutting off allowances."

Pyrrha blushed. "Dad, don't bring up the laundry story again…"

Weiss felt a giggle rise in her throat at the choice of words.

"I make no promises," he said, tousling Pyrrha's hair. She let out an embarrassed giggle with the rest of them.

Weiss watched on, feeling that same thing she felt before… that same feeling she had watching Yang and Ruby interact with Mr. Xiao Long. It ached at the back of her mind, giving her that weird take on jealousy she was only vaguely familiar with; the kind that was not fuel with spite, but with something else… longing, she presumed?

"At least that gets him off your… Hey, wait," she heard Ruby say, "where'd Emerald and Mercury go?"

Weiss turned around to where she had last seen them standing. Sure enough, the two were gone, leaving no trace of their trajectory.

"Odd," Blake said, "not even a 'goodbye' before they left."

"Maybe they got a call from their teammates," Nora suggested as she clamored back onto her seat.

"Yeah," Jacob said with an oddly suspicious tone, "Maybe…"

Weiss looked at him for a second. She noticed that he seemed… standoffish with them around… was he still sour about Cinder beating him in the ring all that while ago?

The PA system buzzed overhead, letting out a shrill scream of feedback. Weiss winced as she covered her ears, finding several of the others doing similar.

"Attention, please, attention, please! Will Teams JNPR and ABRN report to the Arena for their Team match please," came the staticky voice of Professor Goodwitch.

"Oooh, your match is starting," Ruby said with her usual exuberance before she began to gulp down the last of her noodles with all the table manners of a prized swine. Weiss heard several of the others ask for to-go boxes, with Jacob audibly lamenting the lack of a 'freezer bag', whatever that was.

As for herself, her gaze had turned down to her scroll, staring at her Father's phone number… This had come out of nowhere… why now? He hadn't called her the entirety of the five and a half months, and now, all of a sudden, her credit card cuts out and he wants to urgently call her… this felt off. Too off for her liking. Her stomach was knotting itself in pain… or maybe that was the hunger pangs.

She shook her head. "I'll take a to-go box too, please," she asked as she took her chopsticks and took a few gentle bites. The first noodle and piece of chicken wobbled in her grip, but miraculously she got them into her mouth, met with the taste of broth, noodles and chicken seasoned with… paprika, a curry mix and… ground dried tomato?

I have to thank Klein for showing me how to cook, she thought to herself as the plastic box came out and she began move the noodles to said box. She found herself smiling at the thought of her personal butler… she hoped he was okay, that Father hadn't found some excuse to bereave Klein of a job…

No, she thought as she finished and closed the lid on the leftovers. Klein's fine, I'm sure of it. At least he and mother have each other's company.

Weiss looked up, expecting to see herself ahead of the others. She was met with the sight of the other seats now evacuated, the shopkeep nodding off to the left.

Weiss followed his gaze and was met with Ruby and Neptune motioning for her as the rest began to leave ahead of them.

"Come on, Weiss! We're gonna be late for their match!"

"Hey," she called, "wait for me!"

Neptune chuckled as she caught up. "Here, I got those," he said as he reached out to take the box.

Weiss smirked and handed them. "Such a gentleman," she said, inciting a blush from the blue-haired boy.

"Hey," Yang called out from the front beside the Nikos family and Jaune, "Don't go breaking off for some hanky-panky back there!"

Weiss felt her face erupt in a blush as her retort failed in her throat. "Oh, I'm so glad that Cinder and her Team didn't just hear that," she said as she observed the rest of their reactions.

"Yeah," Jacob said as they continued to walk back to the shuttles. "I can only imagine her reaction…"


"Oh, you guys are going to do great, I know it!"

"I really hope so," she heard Jaune say. "I heard they're pretty good."

"Arslan's a martial arts aficionado," Sage said. "Proficient in Kra-mo-Yin, Sunda Kai, Hagai and Vale kickboxing, just to name the ones she's mastered. Even then, she has her rope dart she uses for a style she's been developing."

"Yeah, she kicked our butts around the ring," Neptune added.

"Well, you guys," Sun added as he leaned in and flexed his biceps. "She still hasn't hit me once."

"No, that's why Reese keeps beating you senseless," Scarlet added. "Arslan honestly is your biggest threat out of all of Team ABRN; she has a style for almost everyone, save ranged fighters."

Blake nodded in understanding. Wow, she's adaptable, she thought.

"…Wait, what were those martial arts again?"

Blake turned to Jacob, who was staring at Sage with a confused look. He blinked and looked at her with a look of sheepish embarrassment. "I'm only familiar with a few martial art forms."

"Against JNPR," Scarlett said, "She'll probably bust out the Sunda Kai and go for your legs. Try to keep her out of range."

"Oh, so… taekwondo, I think," he said with a guessing tone.

Blake furrowed her brow. "I've… never heard of that style before," she said.

Jacob seemed to suddenly look panicked, at least in the eyes while the rest of his posture seemed normal. "Uh, it's, uh, a style that one of my neighbors practiced. Sounds like an offshoot of Sunda Kai," he said dismissively.

She heard someone clear their throat farther up the shuttle. "There are plenty of offshoots of martial arts that individuals are developing," she heard Pyrrha's father say. "I know a gentleman in Mistral working on an offshoot of Tan-Lai-Ko, who's spawned his own offshoots courtesy of his students. Hell, one of them taught Pyrrha his style and she mixed it with our proficiency in polearm weapons."

Blake smiled as she watched Pyrrha blush. "Professor Gala did most of the heavy lifting on that part," she said, "I just did the polish work on the style with her blessing."

"Pyr, please," Nora said as they felt the shuttle begin to level out and decelerate, "do us all a solid and just let someone praise you without deflecting for once, okay?"

Pyrrha blushed harder. Blake and several of the others couldn't help but giggle at that.

The overhead speakers let out a tone as they docked. The doors slid open and the seatbelts undid themselves, letting Blake stand up.

"Alright, let's get the lead out of our feet," Jacob said. "We have asses to kick."

"Yeah, you guys are gonna do great," Yang said as the gigantic group exited the shuttle onto the platform. Blake had to swallow hard as her stomach roiled again; at the angle they were at, she could see the distance between the Arena and the ground by way of Beacon; she deduced they were at least 100 feet higher than the peak of Beacon Tower.

Blake was wondering where this fear of the height was coming from; she was fine staring down from the top of the waterfalls that emptied out of Beacon—that strange geographic oddity thanks to the dropping depth of the riverbed compared to the sea—down to the river below, but this… something about this felt off. It was making her stomach upset…

She shook her head, suppressing a grimace as she followed the group.

"Hey," she heard Sun say beside her, "you good?"

"Yeah," she said. "Just was thinking about the height."

Sun responded by looking over and then immediately letting out a sickened groan. "Yeah, bad idea," he said, "that's a bit much even for me."

Blake let out a weak chuckle as she joshed him in the shoulder. "You are such a dummy," she said.

"Hey, I'm no dunce," he said, "but… okay, yeah, I'll say I make stupid decisions."

Blake chuckled again. "But you usually do it for the right reasons," she said.

He blushed hard. "Oh, uh, thanks," he said.

Blake shook her head bemusedly. Sun… had been a roller coaster for her to deal with. She was used to the bubbly personality—she knew plenty of girls and boys like that in the trade convoys her dad protected as the Grand Alpha of the White Fang, but Sun… something felt different about his kind of it. Most of them had developed their personalities as defense mechanisms, of that she was certain as she had spent time studying psychology in her free time; she even could see it in Nora, something she wanted to ask but figured was all the smarter to avoid asking about. Even Yang had some hint of a mask after Blake learned what happened to Yang's mom. But Sun? His felt… genuine. His smile masked nothing she saw in his eyes, no hatred she'd yet to see in him outside of those who threatened his team or those he started calling his friends. But everything about his demeanor had no artificiality. It was… refreshing. Honestly, more than that, it was endearing.

"Hey, Blake! Wake up, Kitty-cat!"

Blake blinked as Yang's voice filled her ears. "Huh?"

"Come on, quit daydreaming about Sun," Yang said with a smile.

Blake felt the hairs on her back stand up as the heat of a blush singed her face. "I-I'm not daydreaming," she said aloud as the rest of the group erupted into laughter.

"Okay, ha-ha, what's gotten into you for teasing everybody about romance," she heard Jacob say through a chuckle.

"No idea!"

Another bout of laughter, but Blake was too busy wondering to herself if she really was technically daydreaming about Sun.

I, no, absolutely not, I've had enough of romance after Adam, I don't want to… Yang Xiao-Long, you are unbelievable, I… I…

She slowly started to wonder if Yang was clairvoyant or something, but was reading her wrong… or maybe she was reading Blake right… Blake was honestly at a loss.

"Maybe some fella's caught your eye and you're just projecting," Jacob said with a presumption to his voice as he leaned in at her.

Yang met him with a roll of her eyes and a playful shove. "Don't go picking out bouquets," she said. "I heard you scream my name during our fight."

Jacob was about to fire a retort back, but stopped. "I have no way to respond to that without turning it into a sex joke," he said in resolute defeat.

Blake rolled her eyes as Yang let out a triumphant, haughty laugh befitting Weiss. "No one can outwit me! I am without equal!"

Blake felt a chance to get back for that comment. "You two are damn-near perfect for one another," she said.

Both turned to look at her as the rest began to giggle or chuckle.

Pyrrha's dad let out a laugh. "You do play off one another quite well," he said. "You would make for a good comedic duo."

Blake winced through her giggles at the image of Yang and Jacob doing standup with their jokes. "That might be more lethal than the Grimm," she said.

Jacob turned halfway and pointed at her. "Hey, both of our jokes are not bad, they…"

His eyes went wide as he saw something off to the side.

Blake followed his gaze to the sight of Penny waving to him… no, beckoning him. She turned back to him and noticed Pyrrha's mom and dad had also turned to face her.

The chill that crawled up her spine was impossible to miss. The scene played out like some kind of conspiracy.

"Oh, uh," Jacob began, "I think Penny wants to talk, I'll catch up with you guys…"

His sentence trailed off as Blake watched him course-correct in the direction of Penny, only for Mr. Nikos to say," I think she wants the both of us, too," he said, stopping and putting a hand on Pyrrha's shoulder. "We'll be back to our seats in time for the match." He turned to the members of JNPR and added, "You will do great, of that I am certain." A second later, he bent down a bit and kissed his daughter's brow as he brought her in for a fatherly hug.

Blake smiled at his compassion, her memory flashing moments out on the caravan trails with her father… that had been so long ago, she couldn't help but worry about him and mom… had they seen the Tournament match yet?

"Alright, we'll be back," said Mr. Nikos as the trio broke off to follow Penny. Blake's ears immediately heard their words as they approached, her heightened hearing uncontrollable.

"…Good reason… blowing our cover," she heard Jacob hiss.

Blake's stomach churned as the group continued to walk on. Cover?

Penny escorted them further away as the crowds absorbed their voices, but Blake made out a few more words. "There was a situation… woke up, Mr. Grimnar spoke…" she said in an uncharacteristically level voice for her.

Blake's curiosity began to pique. She followed the rest of the group for a bit as they entered the concession ring of the stadium, the murmur of the crowds finally overtaking her hearing. She couldn't drop it now, she had to know what was going on.

"Hey, uhm," she began, "need to go find the ladies' room, I'll be right behind you guys."

A quick burst of 'alright' from multiple sets of lips told her she was in the clear. She turned and began to walk out towards the docking bay with all haste. She exited onto the bay just as she saw them round a corner with a visible urgency to their stride. Blake was immediately following them, managing to reach them just as they rounded another corner.

Follow urgently but quietly, she remembered, only for Adam's voice to tinge it. She ignored the tone of the voice and reached to their spot, her back against the wall. She peered around the edge of the corner and found a hallway full of pipes of various colors reaching in multiple directions, each one glowing slightly amid the sterile grey of concrete walls and steel frames.

"The utility halls," she asked herself, seeing a bright red door leading in. "Why would they go there?"

She knew she shouldn't follow. She could get caught back there, and knowing the Atlesian staff on standby here, she was expecting she would be spotted, identified, arrested maybe if they thought she was a White Fang saboteur.

Blake slinked forwards anyway, gently opening the door and making her way deep into the colosseum's interior.

This time around, she was met with walls and floors of ceramic tiles, hosting dark greys above and on the ceiling, while at shoulder height and down to the floor there was a green line pointing her in the direction of the infirmary if the big white lettering inside the line was any indicator.

Blake started to compile the pieces. Is it that the other Lone Wolf?

She gently walked down the halls, her footfalls echoing just slightly, though she was uncertain if those were hers or the others. She could hear the murmurs of voices ahead, though what they were saying she couldn't make out.

For a good two minutes of walking she followed the path, trying to figure out what was going on. What was so important? Why had they broken off so quickly, so urgently? Blake recognized the telltale signs of a secret meeting anywhere, and they were striking all the boxes; speaking in whispers, secluding themselves somewhere concealed but auspicious as to throw possible enemies…

The hallway straightened out just as she saw the group turn into a doorway marked with the universal sign of healthcare; a staff wrapped by two serpents, set on a cross in the background.

"So, there's the infirmary," she said quietly to herself as she kneeled by the wall, taking a spot along a supporting pillar. She could hear voices, mainly Pyrrha's parents and Jacob, but she couldn't make out what they were saying.

Her stomach began to knot itself. Don't get closer, don't get closer…

Blake slipped her feet out of her boots, letting her bare white socks touch the cold floor. She slinked forwards to the next pillar fifteen feet ahead, her hearing now starting to catch more.

Blake gritted her teeth and puckered her lips in frustration. Just a little closer…

She slunk forwards again, bringing her to the next pillar, less than five feet away from the doorframe.

Jacob's voice was first to determine. "…Had the audacity to reveal that to him!?"

"I had little choice," came the voice of Professor Grimnar. "He would not have trusted—"

"You read from the exact same book as I did," came the voice of Mr. Nikos, "knowing full well how the Dark Angels react to mention and knowledge of the Fallen, you did it anyway."

Blake felt her curiosity pique again. Who were they talking about?

"You would have done the same, Dante," Grimnar said aloud, "Perhaps more tactfully, but still you would have."

"Not here, not now, at least," came Jacob's voice with an air of exaggerated exasperation. "And with a psychopath like Asmodai, we may have just sentenced ourselves to an unexpected disappearance!"

Blake was surprised. Asmodai? So, it is about the other Lone Wolf…

"He is the master of the Interrogator-Chaplains," Jacob said, "He has no qualms about abducting an Ultramarine Captain or a Crusade Warmaster if he thinks they have knowledge on the Fallen! He's a rabid animal!"

"And yet he is here now," came the voice of Mr. Angelos, "Amongst us, disguising himself as a Huntsman."

"Perhaps not disguising," came the voice of that one doctor who was setting her wounds when she had woken up after the attack in the city. "Perhaps he's turning over a new leaf."

"Doubtful," Jacob replied as the sounds of his footfalls began to wane back and forth; he was pacing. "No Dark Angel would turn their backs on their oaths to The Lion."

"I believe he can be trusted," said a man with a deep tone and a thick East Mistrali accent—that biker who kept her stable. "He is a Dark Angel, and with the understanding of these 'Fallen' and their dark history, I think he will not hesitate to aid in a secret as ours."

"I trust him as well as I would trust an Administratum agent," came the gruff voice of Darnath Lysander.

"At least they would try to kill you by boring you with paperwork," came his wife's voice. With him, I expect to get clubbed to death in some dungeon."

Blake furrowed her brow. Administratum? The Lion? What were they all talking about?

"Who cares about his torture habits right now," came Jacob's voice with worrying urgency. "What I want to know is if he's a danger to the plan!"

"Calm down, Jacob," came Mr. He'Stan's voice, "Panic does not allow for improvisation."

"That's easy for you to say," Jacob replied. "Though I concede I work slightly better under pressure, when there are lives on the line, I would rather have had the plan remain as-was."

Blake was starting to worry. What lives were on the line? What was going on? She leaned closer.

"Well, regardless," Mr. Grimnar said, his voice growing closer, "he is now a factor. It's not like we can pretend he just imagined it all."

"…Yeah, yeah, I guess," Jacob said defeatedly. "Maybe he will be of some help… any extra hands to take care of the city while I work on getting Pyrrha and Jaune to safety is welcome… as long as he cooperates."

Blake blanched. Jaune and Pyrrha? Are they in trouble?

"Then who will stop Cinder, hmm," asked Mr. Angelos.

"I don't know, maybe I'll distract her if that situation arises."

"And you will be the one to be killed."

"Better me than Pyrrha, but if I can help it, I won't allow that fight to happen!"

Blake's heart felt like ice as she put that sentence together. What was he talking about!? Pyrrha was gonna die fighting Cinder!? Why?! What was going on!?

"And more importantly," he added, "I have to ask, Penny, why did you ring us both out!?"

There was silence. "I… I predicted outcomes based on what I knew of our situation… and… well..."

"Well, what," asked the voice of Delia Lysander.

"I… predicted that any and all combat scenarios other than with me as the opponent, in the event of Pyrrha succeeding and being the competitor… all other instances provided a 79.245 percent chance of a fatality."

Blake was processing that jumble of words. Why did she expect a fatality with anyone other than herself? Why was there going to be a fatality?

Too many questions… she had to get back to the rest of the team… tell them that something else is going on… if Pyrrha and Jaune are in danger, maybe they could go to Headmaster Ozpin, or maybe General Ironwood…

"…Fair enough, you are the robot girl and all."

Blake stopped. "…What," she said in the faintest whisper.

"Exactly. I can be rebuilt by my father if my chassis and memory core were to be returned intact."

"What about those duplicates? They seemed a lot smaller."

"Oh, that's because they were the pathway triggers; without it, I could have the memories, but they would be inaccessible."

There was a collective 'ooh' from the group. Blake, however, had heard enough; there were too many secrets to all keep track of at once, but once these were back to the rest of the team, then the floodgates could open. She started to take a step back.

"Right, right," she heard Jacob say. "Okay, okay, so… okay, let's consider getting him as an ally; what are the possible outcomes? Help me brainstorm, guys, you're the centuries-old former-superhumans."

Blake stopped in confusion. Superhumans?

She shook her head. No, no, that can come later, she thought as she stepped backwards.

There was a sound of rushing air… no, the sound of someone sniffing the air. "Well," said Mr. Grimnar, "How about we address that smell of a feline Faunus just outside the doorway."

Blake felt her stomach drop. She froze in place as they seemed to process that fact.

Someone took a loud step towards the door. Blake spun on her feet and made a flying leap… Only to smack into a wall of camouflage green and khaki.

She tumbled back with a grunt. She grimaced at the pain of landing on her butt, but the want to escape dulled that as she looked up.

She was met with the sight of Mr. and Mrs. Ultramar staring down at her with that parental frown of disappointment at her.

"Ms. Belladonna," Mrs. Ultramar said with a tone that spoke of tire and disappointment alike.

Blake didn't stay, spinning and trying to right herself.

She was again met by a torso, only this time a male one clad in grey blue. She stopped in mild panic as she looked up and was met with the sight of Mr. Grimnar staring down at her.

"Eavesdropping, are we," he said in his thick accent.

Blake felt her veins turn to ice even as that feeling of embarrassment waned and ebbed. The owners of the other voices filed out of the infirmary, encircling her with various looks, ranging from disappointment to worry to Penny's nervous smile.

"Friend Blake," she said "I am… happy to see you here! We were just talking… about a movie we had seen together!"

A hiccup left Penny's mouth, the girl covering said orifice with a look of embarrassment in her eyes… her glowing green eyes.

Blake started to slowly stand up as she tried to read them all. After a second, she was met with the coffee brown eyes of Jacob, the look of shock ebbing and an ire rising.

"Oh, come on…"

Blake tried to step back. "Who… who are you people?"

All of them seemed to shuffle in guilt. Jacob let out a colossal sigh.

"That's… hard to explain without sounding crazy."


Cliffhanger, OoooOOooo!

I have to be honest, this was not originally planned to happen, but...

A. I wanted the protagonist to basically be running on paranoia mode 24/7 the closer it gets (it will make sense post-Invasion)

B. I wasn't doing enough with Blake at this point.

How will he course correct now that one of the Main 8 has found them out? Will this be his ace in the hole, or will his intentions come crumbling down around him? Tune in next time, same crossover time, same crossover place.

Anything you want to say about the chapter, feel free to leave me a reply in the Reviews, and if you are enjoying the series feel free to follow and favorite the piece. I thank you all for your patience and I hope to see you in the next chapter. Bye!