For those unaware, I finished another ongoing story, Ring-Maker, the Friday before last. My plan now is to post chapters of this until it's done, then move on to another story idea I'm cooking. I have a couple more in backlog already, and I hope to be able to maintain the weekly pace I had with the last few arcs of Ring-Maker despite the fact that the minimum chapter length for this story is more than double that of Ring-Maker.

Another thing for readers on this site in particular to note: Due to sheer exhaustion with the dated software on this site, I am no longer going to be posting new stories here. I will continue to update stories already here alongside any mirrors. However, if you want to find newer works of mine, you will need to check other sites, including AO3 and the SpaceBattles and SufficientVelocity forums.

9

Geralt could feel his students' anticipation as they filed into the classroom on Monday morning. It was the final day of classes before the away missions, and he expected all of them would be distracted throughout the day.

That was no excuse not to get some teaching done while they were here. "You've all had the weekend to work on your style analyses," he said as the twelve students settled into their seats. "Come on up and hand them over."

On Friday he had assigned each student to one of their classmates. They were to write a short essay analyzing the strengths and weaknesses of their usual martial styles. As he'd explained to them, this was distinct from the toolkit discussions they'd already had. This was more general—spacing, target prioritization, and moment-to-moment decision making. He'd already come to his own conclusions about each of his students, so this exercise was more about stretching their analytical muscles so that they could pick apart a potential opponent in the field.

His students quickly filed up to the front and each handed him a page or two. Weiss was the only one who had written three. Once they had all returned to their seats, he spoke again. "I'll go over those this week," he said. "Since today's your last day of classes before you all head out for missions, I wanted to make sure we talked at least a little about analyzing non-humanoid opponents before you all have to put it into practice." He looked around the room. "You're all going to be up against Grimm soon, and it's become clear from my research that new Grimm subtypes show up fairly often. So, we're going to go over some approaches to dealing with an unfamiliar opponent—how to get as much usable intelligence as quickly as possible. Any questions before we start?"

Jaune raised his hand. When Geralt called his name, he nervously asked, "How, uh, likely are we to face an entirely unknown Grimm on our missions?"

"Not very," said Geralt. "Year 1 students tend to get relatively low-risk missions, for obvious reasons. That doesn't mean they're safe, but it does mean there's usually a minimum of unknowns." He grinned when Jaune visibly relaxed. "Although, that may not be true for JNPR's mission this week, but we'll get to that."

Laughing internally at the sudden panic on Jaune's face, Geralt looked around. "Any other questions?" When there were none, he continued. "Here's how we'll do this. I've gotten pictures of some recently-discovered Grimm subtypes that haven't made it into the standard curriculum yet from Ozpin. I'm going to project a picture of them, one at a time, on the board behind me," he pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, "and we'll talk through what you can figure out from a picture, then go over the reports about how they move and fight and see how that changes things. Fox, I've got a description written in braille for you in lieu of the picture."

Fox came up to the front of the room and took the sheaf of papers with a soft, "Thanks."

He pulled a remote from his pocket, stepped to the side, and tapped a button. A Grimm with many bladed legs running down a long, segmented body appeared on the board. "This," he said, "is a Centinel. They were recently discovered in Solitas, but they've quickly spread in large numbers across the continent. None have yet been observed elsewhere." He looked around. "Has anyone already heard of this Grimm?"

Only Ruby raised her hand. He raised an eyebrow at her, so she elaborated with a blush, "I keep an eye on Grimm discovery feeds. I don't know much about them, though!"

"Well, don't spoil what you know for the others," Geralt said. "Now, based on appearances alone—what would you guess about this Grimm's abilities? Oh, by the way—from tail to head, it's about six feet long. Feel free to talk among yourselves."

The students looked at each other. "With those legs, it looks like it has to get really close to do any real damage," said Yang thoughtfully.

Geralt saw Ruby bite down on her own knuckles to keep from speaking up, giving him a pleading look. He just grinned at her.

"Look at the shape of its mask, and those mandibles," Coco said. "Tunneller, you think?"

"It's possible," said Yatsuhashi.

"Are tunnelling Grimm a thing?" Jaune asked, blinking. "I've never seen one before."

"They're rare in eastern Sanus," Coco said. "But they show up in Anima and Solitas a lot, and some exist in the mountains surrounding Vale. They prefer less even terrain, so they avoid Vale's forests and valleys."

"They're not exactly common in Mistral proper either," said Pyrrha. "Though I encountered them in the mountains a few times."

"Oh, yeah!" said Jaune. "I forgot you were Mistrali, Pyrrha. Hang on—I'm the only non-Mistrali on our team, aren't I?"

Ren coughed. "Back on topic… we agree, then, that it's a tunneling, close-quarters combatant? How fast is it, do you think?"

"With its stubby legs?" said Fox. "It can't be that fast."

"Not on the surface," Weiss said. "But what about underground?"

"It'll be fast underground," said Velvet thoughtfully. "Those segments look like they can rotate well. It can probably spin like a drill going through the ground."

"Oh, I hadn't thought of that!" said Ruby.

"Not something that came up in the report you saw?" Yang asked.

Ruby shook her head. "All I saw was the name and uh, two facts about it."

"If they've guessed one, you can tell them," Geralt offered.

She gave him a grateful look. "It is a tunneller," she said. "But I didn't know anything about how or how fast. I bet you're right about it drilling, Velvet."

"It looks exoskeletal," said Blake. "So probably pretty resistant to bladed weapons, although you might be able to separate those segments."

"Could be," agreed Coco. "Always hard to tell with Grimm, though."

There was a pause. "Anything else?" Pyrrha asked. Shrugs all around.

Geralt cleared his throat. "Not bad," he acknowledged. "You caught some good points. You're all correct about it being a tunneller and drilling through the ground. It's not nearly as fast on the surface—although it's faster than you might think. However, there's one thing that's very unusual about this Grimm that it's impossible to get from a photograph." He tapped another button on his remote and the picture began to move. The Centinel writhed, reared its head, and spat a glob of green acid towards the camera. The video froze before it hit.

"It spits?" Yang asked, astonished.

"Ewwww," Nora said.

"That was the other thing I saw!" Ruby said brightly. "It spits acid. So it probably fights at longer ranges than you might think, with its short legs."

Geralt nodded at her. "Right," he said. "I probably don't need to tell you, but it's unusual to see Grimm producing any sort of substance or secretion from their bodies that isn't made of the same sort of flesh as the rest of them. But it isn't unheard of."

"It's actually getting more common!" Ruby chimed in. "More than half of all Grimm subtypes with esoteric abilities have only been discovered since the Great War. It's assumed that's because the CCT lets us share new discoveries more reliably than we could before, and the Huntsman academies train people enough that they report back more often than they used to."

Geralt nodded. "That's the prevailing opinion," he said neutrally. Privately, however, he wondered, Are more of these esoteric Grimm showing up because Salem is creating more of them? "That also means," he pointed out aloud, "that you're more likely to run into Grimm with unusual abilities farther out from the Kingdom capitols, and they're more likely to be older and smarter than the more common variants. I don't expect you to be able to pick out a Grimm's special techniques without having seen them. What you should take from this is that you can never get complacent. Complacency is death." He looked out over the somber faces of his students, then tapped the button on his remote again, moving to the next slide. "Now, this Grimm is called an Antelord."

The class continued, going through three more Grimm subtypes before Geralt called a halt. "Now," he said, looking around the room. "Hopefully you won't need that skill this week, but it's better safe than sorry. On that topic…" He looked at JNPR's table. "I'm going to be leading one of the student missions," he said, "and as the only one of my student teams that I haven't seen in action, I thought I'd ask. JNPR, you want to come with?"

"Do we!?" Nora exclaimed, leaping to her feet. Ren shot her an amused, sidelong look.

"We, uh," Jaune looked to his team. Pyrrha gave him an encouraging smile. He seemed to draw strength from it, looking back at Geralt and nodding. "We'd like that. Thank you."

Geralt nodded back. "We're going to investigate a gathering Grimm swarm," he said. "Since the Grimm are going to be in force there, we're bringing a little extra backup. We'll talk about it tomorrow." As if on cue, the bell rang the end of the class.

A knock came on Geralt's office door. He gritted his teeth, carefully keeping his hands perfectly steady as he deposited a single drop of fluid from the syringe in his hand onto the Nevermore feather on the metal plate on his table. "Come in," he called.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," Ozpin said, stepping inside and closing the door softly behind him.

"Middle of an experiment," muttered Geralt. "Give me thirty seconds?"

Ozpin was silent as Geralt took another syringe and tried a second fluid, then a third on the feather. The oils glistened on the black fibers. No visible changes yet, but it took time for a blade oil to work topically. Geralt sighed, putting down the last syringe and pushing his rolling chair back from the desk before standing and turning to the Headmaster. "Ozpin," he said. "Sorry about that."

"No need to apologize, Geralt," said Ozpin, his eyes roving over the assembled beakers of experimental oils and the small, caged Nevermore on Geralt's desk. "Any progress?"

"Some," Geralt allowed, then sighed. "But the biggest thing I've figured out is that I'm not going to be able to finish this project in a timely manner without more samples. Nevermore feathers don't decay as fast as other Grimmflesh, but they're also more durable. It's hard to be sure how much my tests apply to ordinary Grimm when I'm using feathers for my samples."

"Then I suppose it's a good thing you're fetching more samples soon," Ozpin observed. "May I sit?"

"Of course."

Ozpin took the seat across Geralt's desk, resting his cane between his knees. He looked at Geralt over his spectacles. For a moment, he said nothing. Geralt had a powerful impression that he was hesitating. Geralt shrugged and crossed over to the cabinet to his right.

"Want a drink?" he offered.

Ozpin nodded. "I… please, yes. What do you have?"

"Wine and a few cordials from my world. A few Remnan liquors."

"Something from your world sounds intriguing."

Geralt took a bottle of White Wolf and two wine glasses out, then returned to the table and poured. He set the bottle between them. Ozpin took the glass and swirled it beneath his nose, inhaling slowly.

"An excellent bouquet," murmured Ozpin. He took a light sip. "And an excellent wine."

"Glad to hear it," said Geralt dryly. "I own that vineyard. Not that I had anything to do with the vinting."

Ozpin chuckled. "My compliments to your vintner, then." He set down the glass and gave Geralt a hard look. "Let me preface this," he began, "by saying that I have… difficulty with trust, sometimes. Indeed, I didn't tell Qrow and Glynda about this until Summer disappeared, and I only told James, Leo, and Theodore two years ago."

Geralt nodded slowly, saying nothing.

"There are a few things I have not told you," Ozpin said quietly, looking out the window at the shattered moon outside. "There are some things I have not told anyone. But I have some suspicions, and I need your expertise and perspective. I want to be clear: I will not tell you everything. But there are some things you should know."

"I'm listening."

Ozpin cleared his throat. "I am… much older than I appear," he said slowly.

"You mentioned that once," Geralt said dryly. "How old? Sorcerers back home could live for a few centuries."

"Much, much older than that," Ozpin murmured. "Although this body is only fifty-seven years old, I am much older."

Geralt frowned. "Not sure I understand."

Ozpin took a deep breath. "Long ago," he said quietly. "I was… cursed, you might say. Whenever my body dies, my spirit finds and inhabits a suitable vessel, much as the Maidens do. The difference is that more than my magic is transferred. My Aura and identity follow. Slowly my spirit merges with that of my new host until, eventually, we become a single identity."

Slowly, Geralt took a sip of his wine. "That's something I haven't seen before," he admitted.

"I had wondered if you had," Ozpin said. "A shame. But regardless, I felt it was important you know this much, as well as a few other things." He shook his head. "Put simply: I have been on Remnant nearly as long as Salem has, cursed to stay and try and stop her. Thus far, I have been successful only in protecting pockets of humans and faunus in the kingdoms, and slowly expanding outwards. Actually defeating Salem remains a distant dream."

"You've got time, though," Geralt pointed out."

"I suppose so." Ozpin did not seem comforted. "In any case, I have told the others about this, and I tell you now, so that you may be aware of some of the measures we have in place for dire scenarios. Specifically, the event of my death."

Geralt raised an eyebrow. "I mean, you'll just come back, right?"

"Yes," Ozpin said, "but there is no telling where, or how long it will take me to appear, or what I will look like. The only seeming certainty is that I will be human, as none of my past incarnations have been faunus. As such, I have given Qrow the task of seeking out my new incarnation in the event of my death, and returning the Long Memory to me." He raised his cane by way of explanation.

"And you want me to be Qrow's backup," Geralt realized.

Ozpin nodded grimly. "Qrow has been out of contact for weeks," he said. "It is far from the first time he has done so, but… things are moving recently that have not moved in a very long time. The Grimm swarm you are going to investigate is just one of many ill omens, Geralt. I am worried."

"Wouldn't Summer be a better choice than me?" Geralt asked. "She probably knows better what to look for."

"Summer is always going to be a target for Salem," Ozpin said. "Her eyes make her an incredibly dangerous opponent to the Grimm. Salem has always tried to target Silver-Eyed Warriors and remove them from the board before they could become dangerous to her plans. I expect the only reason she survived the past twelve years in the wild was that Salem, like the rest of us, believed her dead." Ozpin shook his head. "If I die, the world becomes even more dangerous for Summer and Ruby than it already is," he said. "If I entrusted the Long Memory to them, that risks even more, puts more eggs in one basket. No; Summer and Ruby must prioritize their own safety, should I fall."

Geralt nodded. "Understood," he said. "There's something I was going to tell you in the morning, but wight as well now." He hesitated. "One of the Haven students, Emerald Sustrai? She's a Higher Vampire."

Ozpin blinked once, slowly. "You're joking."

"'Fraid not. Regis confronted her and confirmed it."

"And she knows of his nature as well?"

"She does," Geralt confirmed. "I've told Yen as well—she knows what to keep an eye out for. She'll work with you as necessary."

"Good." Ozpin sighed. "It never rains but it pours. Thank you for the warning."

"She might just be an ordinary student who happens to be a vampire," Geralt pointed out.

"Of course," said Ozpin. "Innocent until proven guilty. But given how dangerous vampires can be, it seems only sensible to be cautious."

"Agreed." Geralt shook his head. "Anyway. Have you heard back from Summer since she left for Anima?"

"I have," said Ozpin. "She sent a message to report a lead a few days ago, though she was sparse on the details."

Summer drew her cloak over her nose and mouth to try and filter out the worst of the smoke. It didn't much help. "Hello?" she called out, before coughing again. She blinked her stinging eyes, squinting in the haze. "Is anyone alive out there?"

A creaking sound came from her right, barely audible among the crackling of the flames. She turned, hand on Pinprick at her hip. "Is someone there?" she asked, trying to look through the thick plumes of smoke.

There was silence for a moment, but then a voice spoke. "The townspeople locked themselves in the bunker under the mayor's house. We've left them there with whatever they saw fit to carry. No one has died."

Summer would have narrowed her eyes if they weren't already as thin as she could make them. She knew that voice. "And I'm sure you made absolutely certain of that," she said. "I'm sure you checked every corner of every building before you set the town on fire."

Silence. Then, footsteps, and a faint breeze as a figure brushed past Summer, passing mere inches from her, yet completely obscured by the thick smoke. Summer turned and followed them through the door and out into the street. She coughed and wiped at her teary eyes as her feet hit the dirt road.

The woman was facing away from her. Voluminous black hair rippled down her back, loosely kept off her face by a red bandana tied beneath the mask she wore. Her left hand rested on the hilt attached to the complex, revolving scabbard at her belt. Her right was a fist at her side. Cinders drifted through the air between them, and the hot breeze set their clothes rustling.

"Hello, Raven," said Summer.

"Summer," Raven said, without turning to face her. "Last I heard, you were dead."

"Rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated."

"So it would seem." Raven turned ninety degrees and stalked away without looking at her, her ornate Grimm mask hiding her face.

Summer followed her with her eyes for a moment without moving. Then she called out, "Have you seen Qrow?"

Raven stopped. "What if I have?" she asked, her low voice somehow carrying over the flames.

Summer considered her former teammate for a moment. "Well, that depends on what you've done to him," she said.

Raven finally turned to face him. "You really think I'd kill my own brother?" she asked.

"I didn't think you'd burn down an innocent village," said Summer, gesturing around her. "I didn't think you'd stay gone for more than a decade after I disappeared. You're full of surprises these days, Raven."

"Are you really judging me for disappearing, Summer?" Raven asked coldly. "We thought you were dead. Where the hell did you run off to?"

Summer raised a single eyebrow. "The arms of an incubus," she said. "Thanks for asking."

Raven stood frozen. Then, "You're kidding," she whispered.

"Nope."

Raven stared across the drifting ash at her. "I didn't know," she said. Her voice was shaking. Summer was surprised at just how much of a surprise that was.

"That's a relief," she answered honestly. "I ran into your man, Zielon. When I realized you knew about monsters like the leshen, well. I did wonder."

"You wondered if I left you there knowingly," said Raven, voice hollow. "If I knew where you were and decided not to save you."

Summer shrugged. "I hurt you," she said. "We both know it. I just never knew exactly how much. When I found out you'd picked up banditry and raiding as a hobby… well, if you could do this," she gestured around, "to people you'd never met, what could you do to someone you hated?"

In a sudden motion, Raven reached up and tore off her mask. It clattered to the ground, striking the road in a puff of dust, forgotten. Summer saw with shock that there were tears in Raven's eyes. "I never hated you," she said. "Summer, I—no. If I had known…" She took a hesitant step forward. Then she stopped. Something dark and cold crept back into her eyes. She leaned down and picked up her mask. "I'm sorry I left you there," she said. "I didn't intend it." She put the mask back on.

Summer frowned. "Okay," she said. "Now I'm curious. Is this just ennui? Nihilism?"

Raven laughed sharply. "Oh, are you?" she asked. "Are you sure you want to know what I know?"

Summer's eyes narrowed. "What did you find out?" she asked.

"Why don't you ask dear old Ozpin?"

"Three reasons," said Summer. "First, in case you missed it, he's not here. Second, he probably wouldn't tell me. We all know he's keeping more secrets than he shares. And third…" she shrugged. "I really don't know how you feel about me these days," she said. "But I'm hoping you still know I care about you. Tell me, Rae. I want to help."

"You can't help," said Raven harshly. "No one can. That's the problem. There's no point to telling anyone, because there's nothing anyone can do."

"You going to talk straight or are we playing twenty questions?" asked Summer tiredly. "Because I really do have to figure out what happened to Qrow. He went looking for you weeks ago, no sign of him since."

Raven studied her. "I haven't seen my brother," she said slowly. "But I still have a portal linked to him. I can find him."

"Unlike me?"

Raven looked away. "Unlike you."

Summer sighed. "Sure, let's go find him," she said. "Then you can tell us both about whatever the hell has you on this nihilism kick."

All of Team JNPR were waiting in the courtyard when Geralt emerged the next morning. As always, they were very varied in terms of energy. Jaune was yawning like a foghorn, but Nora practically vibrated with excitement.

"JNPR," Geralt greeted, then gestured at the two people behind him. "You've met Yen. This is Regis. He'll be coming with us on the mission."

"Hey!" Nora said brightly, waving frantically.

"Hello," said Regis, lips twitching upward into a smile.

"Regis has research to do in the field," said Geralt, "but he's also our combat backup if we need it."

"Oh?" Pyrrha said, perking up. "How do you fight? I don't see any weapons."

"My… technique is rather esoteric," said Regis, glancing at Geralt. "Ideally, I won't need to fight at all. It can be a rather harrowing experience for all involved."

Pyrrha frowned at that but nodded slowly. "I… think I understand," she said, glancing at Geralt.

Geralt gave her a nod, already predicting the questions she'd have. "Have you all had time to go over the mission brief?" he asked.

"We looked," said Jaune, nerves creeping into his voice. "Um. The brief was a little unclear on just how many Grimm there were. It said a 400% increase, but from what?"

Geralt nodded. "It was already an active Grimm stomping ground," he said. "So, yeah. Expect a lot of Grimm. Fortunately, we have our own Bullhead for the operation, so if it gets too dangerous, we can pick up a couple of stragglers as samples and fly out. If we can't figure out what's causing the Grimm to swarm, then we leave. No big risks."

"Understood," said Ren.

"That goes for you, too, Geralt," said Yen softly by his shoulders. "A minimum of risks out there, please."

"I promise, Yen."

She nodded, laying her hand on his arm. "Good luck," she said.

He turned to face her, and she took advantage of the motion to rise up on her toes and kiss him. Then she turned back towards the school.

"See you in a few days," Geralt called after her. She raised a hand in farewell, glancing back once before stepping back into the academy. Geralt turned back to the group. "Our Bullhead's at the airship docks. Shall we?"

Pyrrha fell into step beside him as he led the group towards the cliffside. "I respect that Mr. Regis doesn't wish something about his abilities to become common knowledge," she began quietly.

"Just Regis, please," said Regis from behind Geralt, his enhanced hearing picking up the murmured words.

Pyrrha flushed. "O-of course."

Geralt put a hand on her shoulder. "I understand," he said. "You're worried about tactics, planning around an ally with unknown abilities."

"Exactly," said Pyrrha, looking relieved.

They reached the Bullhead. Geralt glanced back at Regis. "You decide how much you want to tell them," he said.

Regis nodded. "Suffice to say," he said, following Geralt onto the vessel, "I tend to fight at very short ranges, but can close distances very quickly. I can also avoid projectiles in my path with little difficulty. I have comparatively few options for combat at longer ranges, so I will be relying on all of you in cases where I cannot engage in melee."

"Thank you," Pyrrha said, looking satisfied. "That shouldn't be difficult to work around. It's rather like working with Yang."

"Regis is faster than Yang," Geralt warned. "But otherwise, yes, a bit." A thought occurred to him. "Regis, have you even had your Aura unlocked yet?"

"Ah, no, I have not," Regis admitted. "I had rather forgotten about it. Should I do that before we leave?"

"No need," said Pyrrha. "I can do it."

"I'd like to learn how to awaken Aura," Geralt said, looking at her. "Can you teach me, do you think?"

She nodded. "It's not especially difficult. We can do it as we fly."

Geralt nodded, then knocked on the door to the pilot's cabin. An Atlesian pilot glanced back and lowered the glass screen between them with a button. "Ready to go?" he asked.

"Ready," said Geralt. "You're staying with us out there, right?"

"Those are my orders," said the pilot. "Hold on tight, I'll take us off."

Geralt gripped one of the handles on the ceiling. Beside him, Regis and Pyrrha did the same. The rest of the team sat down and strapped into their seats.

The Bullhead's engines came on with a thunderous sound. The floor beneath their feet rattled as the ship rose into the sky and sailed out into the morning.

"Gah!" Qrow leapt to his feet, flailing wildly, water dripping from his cloak.

Raven smirked coldly at him, the empty bucket still in her hand. Summer was far less restrained, cackling madly, supporting herself with a hand on the back of a chair.

They'd found Qrow slumped against a table in a bar in Anima, a bottle by his hand. Rather than wake him conventionally, Summer had suggested an old STRQ tradition.

Qrow shook his head like a dog shaking its coat, sending droplets flying. "Dammit all," he muttered, rubbing at his eyes and glaring balefully at the two of them. "Can't believe I ever wanted to bring you two back together."

"Oh come on, Qrow," Summer giggled. "You know you love us."

"Yeah, yeah," grumbled Qrow, sitting back down. "I guess you beat me to her, Summer."

"Wasn't hard," Summer observed, sitting across from him and swiping his bottle before he could pour himself another glass. She took a swig directly from it, then passed it to Raven as she sat down beside them. "I somehow don't get the feeling you were especially eager to rush directly back to sister dear."

"Wisely," muttered Raven, before gulping down a mouthful of the cheap whiskey herself.

Qrow snorted. "Yeah, the dear old family doesn't exactly invite me back for reunions these days," he said. "So I took the scenic route, can you blame me?"

"Scenic route, huh?" Summer said, giving him a sad smile and accepting the bottle back from Raven. "And how is the scenery of Anima, as seen through the bottom of every Mistrali distiller's bottles?"

Qrow's lips twisted, and so did Summer's heart. He'd been doing so well since she returned. She should have known that going off on his own again wouldn't be good for him—especially after what Tai had said about him getting worse after she'd disappeared.

"Sorry, Summer," Qrow said, looking down at his lap.

Summer took his hand. "Hey. I'm not mad. I'm worried about you, Qrow. I'm sorry I wasn't here for you the past twelve years, but I'm here now. I want to help."

"How sweet," drawled Raven. "Maybe you'll have time to convince him to stop pickling his liver before we all die."

"What crawled up your ass and died?" Summer snapped, suddenly furious. Her anger vanished as fast as it appeared, however, when she saw Raven's face. Her eyes were hollow and empty as she stared at her brother, the lines of her face somehow deeper than they had been mere minutes ago. She looked every bit as old as Qrow did.

Raven turned those dead eyes on Summer. Her lips twisted, but she just sighed and leaned back in her chair. "You really want to know?" she asked. "I know Qrow doesn't."

Qrow grunted, glancing sidelong at his sister. "This about Oz again?" he asked. "I told you—he's done right by me. He did right by you, too, since you forgot."

Raven sneered. "So you've said."

"Enough. Stop squabbling." Summer nodded at Raven. "Talk to us," she said. "What happened, Raven?"

Raven's face fell as she met Summer's eyes. "I didn't…" She took a deep breath. "Okay. You want to hear the story? Fine.

"When I heard you disappeared, I panicked. I'll admit it. I cut my portal link to you in a moment of pique. I never expected to lose you just a couple years later." She shook her head. "I barged into Ozpin's office and demanded an explanation. He told me he didn't know where you were. I didn't believe him. And I knew exactly how to find out what he was hiding."

"Shit," Qrow muttered, his eyes widening. "Rae. You didn't."

"What?" Summer asked, looking at him.

He turned to her. "The Spring Maiden disappeared about eleven years ago," he said, like that explained everything.

It took Summer a moment to realize it did. Her head whipped around to stare at Raven. "You—seriously?"

Raven nodded once. "I made sure the next Maiden would be a Branwen," she said, "and I used them to access the vault under Haven. I asked the ghost what Oz was hiding from me." Her eyes stared sightlessly, not looking at either of them. "Oz really didn't know where you were. But he knew a few other things."

"And you decided that him keeping a few secrets was reason enough to start pillaging half of Anima?" asked Qrow hotly.

"No," Raven said dully. "I started raiding because I realized there was no reason not to."

"The hell does that mean?"

"It means, Qrow, that we're all going to die. We're doomed. We're a dead species walking."

"What did you find out?" Summer pressed as Qrow spluttered.

Raven turned those hollow red eyes on Summer. "Salem isn't just immortal," she said. "She's unkillable. We can't beat her. And Ozpin has known the whole damn time."