Hey all I'm back! Hope everyone's been doing well!

SO. A bunch of things happened while I was writing this (not gonna go through everything, I'm not mad). I apologise for not posting sooner but again, busy schedules! So I hope that you'll like this chapter enough to forgive me! BTW, thank you for all the support thus far! Reading your reviews always cheers me up a bit.

On that topic:

Werwolf fr: Funny. But geez that's like really intense. Maybe not for now. Also about the Celtic myth thing that's a maybe for now. (Also dude, try to paragraph your comment a bit, trust me it's waaaayy easier to read that way)

ewertondragon10: Thanks for the compliment. You do realise you posted it twice tho right?

Dragon lord Syed: Thanks for the support! Unfortunately it won't really go that way...

So before you read, just a reminder to go vote on the polls (the one on my profile not the US one silly) for Rolo's semblance, Kind of a meh performance so far. I need your help to confirm it thanks :)

And crazy things, monumental things have happened in the meantime. Biden was voted president, there may be a COVID vaccine on the way (keyword: MAY) and 2020 is nearly to a close. Now, I ask that you set aside politics when reading this (because this is ultimately escapism) and I ask that you all be kind to each other and cherishing to your families. That's all!

Without further ado, on with the fic!

Posted: 17/11/2020

Chapter 7

"Gory, gory what a hell of a way to die! He ain't gonna jump no more!"

-Excerpt from "Blood On The Risers", Britannian Paratrooper song, Origin: Elysia, 1840 ATB

"WHAT?!"

An antique table was flipped into the air before it gracefully crashed onto the carpeted floor, falling into a pile of fine mahogany wood chips worth more than someone's house. A dishevelled man, covered in soot, quivered in fear as a rotund figure seethed in rage, shoulders heaving and a crushed black envelope in his hand.

"H-he said tha-"

"I know what he said, fool!" roared the rotund man. It was clear to see that Don Giuseppe Niccolo Bassanio Antonio Arditi di Montagna, otherwise known as Don Monty, was not happy. He struck the snivelling brat, Finn was his name, and fumed at the pathetic display as the weakling dared to look up at him pitifully. Taking a few deep breaths, he managed to calm himself to stop shaking in rage.

"What else? What else did this Zero say?" demanded Monty. With a shaky hand, Finn pointed to the crushed paper in his fist. "He said that would say everything."

With an annoyed grunt, the Don opened his left hand, signalling his bodyguard. Said bodyguard, a tall and brutish man in a dark suit, reached into a jacket and drew a out a switchblade with a gloved hand, opening it with a neat *click* and making Finn heavily flinch in fear.

"Calm down boy," irritatedly sighed the mafioso. He cut open the envelope and retrieved the letter from within, taking note of its slightly powdery texture but quickly dismissing it. Unfolding it, his eyes scanned the rectangular, printed font.

Dear Don Monty,

I hope this finds you well and in good health.

Consider this letter your eviction notice, your letter of repossession and a declaration of war, should you choose to pursue that. My client does not wish nor likes to lose.

Go suck a chode, you fat, Valian, slaving whoreson of a pig.

Ill regards,

Zero

CEO of the Midnight Fang

As he glared at the insulting letter in silent fury, the Don's bodyguard upended the envelope and retrieved a small, black card along with a plastic packet that looked like it burst open, with traces of an odd white powder. Passing the card to Monty, the Don gave it a once-over with a scrutinising eye. Simple in design, it had a silver emblem printed onto its surface. "Midnight Fang eh?"

It bore the red, toothy, grinning skeletal stylisation of a wolf's skull, surrounded by a silver ring with cracks jutting and webbing inward. A facsimile to Remnant's broken satellite. With a snort, he crushed the letter and threw it in a fireplace. Then he turned back to Finn.

"Go and rest, kid. You're not needed here." With an intimidated nod, he scrambled out of the room. With a sigh, the Don turned to his personal muscle. "Guido, what do you think about them?"

Rubbing his chin, he gave it a little thought, taking the card and examining it for himself. "Hmm. If I had to guess," mused Guido, "Combined with what our mole in the pigs told me when Mac got hit on Tuesday night as well as today, they seem to be a splinter group of the WF."

"Mm, I thought so too," agreed the Don. Taking out his scroll, Guido opened up a video attachment before linking it to a huge TV screen in the office. "As you can see, from the footage our man in the PD sent, this is who we're dealing with." In a grainy image, illuminated by the flames of the burning warehouse was a figure, presumably male, masked with a shiny helmet and a black trenchcoat.

"So that's Zero," identified the Don. "I need a drink." Pouring himself some brandy from a decanter on a tray, he took a sip, taking time to enjoy the taste and the feeling of liquid fire going down his gullet. With a small sigh of content, he gestured for his aide and bodyguard to continue.

"Right. From what we've seen so far, the "Midnight Fang", as they call themselves, are well trained. We'll call them MF for short." Zooming in on a random gunman, he continued. "Looking at their gear, from the NVGs to what I think is a ballistic mask, as well as accounts from some of our guys in custody, it's likely that they're former WF members that chose to strike it out on their own as mercs. Pretty good ones at that. And if our account from Mackie is correct, they are acting as Torchwick's enforcers while he's stuck in the air."

"Then what about that ice cream girl?"

"Her? We haven't seen her since Torchwick was arrested. But there seems to be no sign of her here so it's unknown if they're working together."

"Anything else we should know?"

"Other than Zero's apparent flair for the dramatic? Nothing boss," concluded Guido.

"Alright then. You know what to do right?" An affirmative nod came from his aide. "Put a hit out for Zero, dead or alive. 5 mill in lien. Any other members of the MF are 10 grand. Any information is welcome."

"You got it." With a quick typing on his scroll, Guido jotted down everything. "What else?"

"Have our guys dig up any sources. Find what we can on the MF." He moves to set his empty glass on the table, only for it to fall and land with a dull thump on the carpet. "And get me a new table too," he grunted in annoyance.

"Noted. Well, I'll take my leave then boss. I'll update you if anything arises." With a quick bow, the Don's aide stepped out of the office, closing the door quietly behind him.

With a sigh, Monty glared at the fireplace, where the letter was still burning. 'Zero,' he fumed. 'Who knows what schemes that little upstart might be doing now?! I must consolidate the family. Otherwise, we'll have a bloodbath. If it's war he wants, it'll be war he gets.'

Indeed. Who knew what dastardly plans were concocted and games this rebel was playing in the shadows?

-Beacon, Team LRGS Dorm-

"In your honour, a royal flush."

As Lelouch smugly turned over his hand, the rest of his team groaned in frustration. "Kuso," complained Suzaku, "I was so close too!" He threw down his hand petulantly, revealing a straight flush as his partner chuckled and pulled the Lien to himself greedily.

It was an uneventful Thursday morning. On the last day of their mission rest, LRGS had decided to take it free and easy. Thus they were in their dorm, playing a simple game of cards. Except that said game determined who was going to run the team's errands. Speaking of which…

"Well, Suzaku. Smallest pile. You know what that means," Gino said smugly. With a glare, the Kururugi collected the lien and stuffed them in his wallet. "Yeah, yeah I know. Put a sock in it."

It was his turn to play errand boy.

"You got the list right?" checked Lelouch. With a roll of his eyes, his partner pulled out his scroll. "Yeah, yeah. You want your ammo. Rolo wants his candy and makeup and Gino wants his haircare stuff."

"Hey!"

"That's about right. We'll update you on anything else." With a final nod, Suzaku trudged off, annoyed but begrudgingly leaving to do the shopping. "Don't forget your soup!"

"Oh, shut up!"

"So Lelouch, whatcha gonna do later?" asked Gino as he pocketed his share.

"I was thinking about doing some gear maintenance and then I'll either study or do some last checks on the tour," he answered as he got up to stretch. "You?"

"I'm gonna scout out the," he thought back to this morning, where he spied a team of recently arrived huntresses (from Vacuo he heard) a few tables away in the canteen. "Competition."

"You go and do that," sarcastically remarked Rolo, shoving lien into his pocket. "Horny wanker."

"Yeah and maybe you'll find out how to use their kinks against them. Really personal weaknesses, you know?" Lelouch jokingly added, putting in his own two cents.

"I'm not denying it," shrugged Gino. "Sides, at least I got game."

"Ooooh," winced Rolo, shaking his hand as if burnt. "Spicy!"

"Go suck a fat one, the both of you," Lelouch jabbed. "Imma shower and then I'll hit up the workshop."

"Tsk, tsk," playfully admonished Rolo. "What would dear grandma do if she heard you saying that? What would Guin do?"

"Nothing!" he called out from the bathroom. "They're not here!"

"He's got a point," remarked Gino as he shrugged on his jacket.

"Do you want me to cut off a braid?"

"Just try. I'll blast the pipes in your ears then," bit back Gino as he buttoned up. "Speaking of which, I'm gonna tend to them."

"You better not!"

"No promises~!" answered Gino as he went to unpack some things. With an annoyed sigh, Rolo rubbed the bridge of his nose as he stood up. 'Now what to do?' he wondered. All his errands were done and the others weren't free to train so he had his time to himself. 'Maybe I'll take a little stroll downtown.'

-Beacon, Student Workshop-

The smell of smoke and grease was a familiar one to the young Ruby Rose as she bounced into Beacon's workshop, humming along to a song only she could hear. The sonorous singing of metal on metal and the fizzle and pop of sparks filled the workspace, dotted by the glowing sky blue holoscreens, displaying a diversity of schematics for their users' convenience, and silver arms and bars that hung from the ceiling, bearing various tools connected to numerous black rubber hoses. She whipped out her scroll, stopped bouncing for a moment to tap into the registry and then continued inward into her second home. Headed to a workbench in her usual corner, she looked around, looking at all the new friends Crescent Rose could make. At the same time, she mused on potential upgrades she could give her baby.

Maybe I could set her up with a few FMJs. Ooh! A forward swinging blade! And a dust-lined barrel! But what type? Perhaps wind or lightning? Yeah, that could work. And maybe a-

Wait, that's new.

At a nearby workbench was a tall figure in a red t-shirt, seated and hunched over his project with a pair of earphones. To his right was a familiar purple jacket with armoured shoulders and a big, brown belt, hanging from a coat stand. As she crept closer, she could hear him muttering and humming to himself and was wary to startle him. 'Help him with his mind? Frowning all the time? What's that mean?' she wondered as she approached him.

It was not good to scare someone working on a weapon made to fell the beasts of darkness after all. So instead of hollering out, she came up behind him and lightly tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, Lelouch?"

He stopped his work, hit pause on his nearby scroll and turned to look over his shoulder. "Oh! Hi Ruby!" He turned himself toward her and hung his earphones around his neck. "What's up?"

"Oh you know not much. Just some maintenance on Crescent Rose." 'And to scope out all the other beautiful weapons' she silently added.

"Rrrrright," he responded doubtfully. "Your sister would beg to differ."

"Oh really? What did she say?" asked Ruby as she crossed her arms, doing her damndest to look intimidating. Unfortunately, Lelouch saw anything but.

"My how adorable," he chuckled as he patted her on the head. "And to answer your question, something about being an engineering and weapons nut."

"I'm not a nut!" she pouted, swiping his hand away.

"Oooh, feisty!" he remarked, pulling away. He tilted his head back to the bench. "Hey, you wanna see what I'm working on?"

"Do I?!"

She bounced over by his side as he scooted over to give her space. "Behold, my stuff."

On the gray, oil-stained table, among an assortment of tools strewn all over lay a cruciform sword, a dagger and Lelouch's breastplate. 'A hand-and-a-half!' noted the young Rose. "Babies!" she cried out, her hand surging over to feel them.

A sharp slap from her fellow team leader has her recoiling said hand and nursing it. "Ow?!"

"Careful! We're in the workshop," he chided. Stepping aside, he let her have the table, and the weapons, for herself. "Slowly now."

"Oh, right. Hehe," she chuckled nervously. With steady hands, she first picked up the sword, one on the hilt and the other lifting up its blade with a cloth. It was a beautiful sword, the hilt a dark purple with golden accents and the blade a silver-edged piece with a razor-sharp edge and a black, tubular segment that ran down its fuller. Where the blade met the hilt, the sharpened edge disappeared, in its place an oddly blocky ricasso acting as the 'bridge' with a small receptacle holding a glowing purple substance in it. Ruby couldn't help but marvel at the craftsmanship that went into the weapon, her hand ghosting over seamlessly flush lines that ran along the blade and her image brilliantly reflected off its surface.

"This is Oath," Lelouch introduced as she turned the weapon over in her hands. He pulled the Holoscreen towards them as he continued his spiel. "My main. A rifle and blade hybrid. Measures one hundred and twenty cm as a blade, eighty cm in its assault variant and a hundred when in marksman. Chambered in 5.56mm rounds and has a loaded reservoir of gravity dust." He gestured to the glowing purple feature, the purpose now clear to his audience. "Sights, triggers, charging handle, magazine and ejection ports are on the ricasso." Taking a closer look, Ruby could make out the features he mentioned, flushed and blending in with the rest of the weapon.

The hilt was primarily a dark, lustrous purple with a few gold inlays. The quillon was tipped with octahedral protrusions at each end and the guards were shaped oddly, having upward-facing grooves that looked to be designed for ease of grip, albeit rather thin, keeping to a more conventional design. Though the base of the hilt was yet another oddity, being circular with little guide rails running along the circumference. Yet it was small enough to not impede its wielder's dexterity. As she ran her hand up the hilt, she also took notice of the gold that spiraled along the hilt, how it widened out at the base of the guard and how the pommel looked like a three-pronged crown. Designed like a rook piece, it had flat contours and facets in a shiny finish. Looking inside, she saw a bunch of connections but for the life of her could not figure out their purpose. She also noticed a pair of switches, hiding at the base of the guard as the hilt bloomed outwards.

"Oh she's a beauty innit?" Lelouch rhetorically asked with great pride.

"She is," admired Ruby. Just then, she noticed a little engraving at the base of the blade. It looked like a little teardrop. "What's this?" she asked, pouting to the marking. "That's a story for another day," deflected Lelouch. "I promise to tell you then."

"Pinky swear?" she pushed, bringing up a hand. He rolled his eyes in amusement and extended his own. "Pinky swear," he answered with surety.

As he reached over to pluck Oath from her hands, she squawked and whined in protest. "Now now. If we stood here all day looking at Oath, we'd never get to her brother. Don't you want to meet him?"

"DO I?!" She suddenly became acutely aware of all the stares she was drawing and shrunk back. "Sorry."

"Bah! It's fine," brushed off Lelouch. "Anyway, here." He reached over to the other side of the workbench, where his dagger lay. "This is Treachery."

"Oooh~!"

As Lelouch took back Oath for a final sharpening, Ruby gave its smaller sibling a scrutinising scan. It was an oddly long and wide stilettoesque weapon with a forward swept crossguard making it look like a "Y". In contrast to the brilliant glory of Oath, Treachery was primarily an unassuming matte amethyst in colour. Though in similar fashion, its fuller was a dull gunmetal gray. And instead of a tubular component, it had a series of tiny grooves that originated from the simple black and silver hilt, webbing outwards in a way similar to the veins of a leaf. At the base of the crossguard was another pair of switches similar to that on Oath and a circular port in its centre with five distinct divisions about the size of that coin Lelouch gave her. The hilt itself was simple in design, being a black assembly with silver highlights. And just like Oath, it had that weird crown-like pommel, though it was silver and had that same teardrop marking stamped onto its surface.

The sharp whine of grinding metal and the glow of sparks brought Ruby's gaze over to a belt grinder, where Lelouch stood with a pair of earmuffs and goggles, slowly and meticulously bringing Oath's length across the sharpening belt with a pair of gloves.

Turning back to Treachery, she pulled the holoscreen closer to look at its specs. Swiping away from Oath's, she enlarged the dagger's schematics and read aloud to herself.

"Treachery. Dust dagger and longsword hybrid." 'Cool,' she thought. Length of seventy cm as a dagger and a hundred as a sword. Dust loadout of fire, lightning, ice, stone and gravity." For such a simple weapon, its features brought stars to her eyes. Just as she was about to close the page, her eyes caught a single word, right at the bottom of the list of features.

"Aura-locked?"

A curious finger tapped the display and a new window opened up on the screen. Expecting a barrage of information, she was left wanting when all she read were five words.

"This weapon has been bloodbound? What's that mean?"

"That would be a little trade secret."

"EEP!" she squeaked in fright. Whipping around, Lelouch stood just behind her, his towering frame combined with his slow, methodical wiping of his sword cutting an imposing image.

"I'm sorry!" she blabbered. "I was just curious and it sounded unusual and-"

A low chuckle stopped her frightened defence. Lelouch's smiling face though turned that shock into relief. "It's quite alright," he assured. "Not everyday someone expresses interest."

"Oh," she responded in stunned stupor. "What exactly does it mean then?"

"Mm, can't really say," hummed Lelouch, tapping his nose. "It's a little secret after all. Maybe when you're older. What I will say is that it's a rite of passage thing."

"Dawww, come on!"

"Nope!" he coyly answered. Taking his leather sheath off of his hanging belt, he started to apply oil to its interior. "So how's the coin exercise coming along?"

"I've gotten faster!" she proudly proclaimed. Reaching into her pouch for the coin, she frantically pat herself down looking for it. Crapbaskets, where was it?! How could you lose a gift like that!? Oh stupid stupid stu-

The coin flashed before her eyes. "Looking for this?" The cheek! She snatched the coin back from Lelouch's grease and soot stained hands and blew a raspberry.

How it infuriated her that he dared to chuckle!

"How did you do that?" demanded Ruby. He chuckled again and pat her head, causing her to shrivel and pout, before he moved his hand to her ear and drew it back, revealing a similar coin that was definitely not there.

"Sleight of hand," he winked at her. Giving his hand a flourish, the coin rolled over his fingers and into his palm before disappearing entirely. "Woaahhh! Teach me teach me!" bounced Ruby.

"All in good time, my young disciple," joked Lelouch. "Since you are so eager, I'll let you in on a little something."

"Is it about the aura-lock?!" she bounced excitedly.

"No, no. Nothing of the sort," he smiled. "Good try though."

"It's about my weapons actually. But obviously since you're so focused on the auralocking aspect, I guess I may as well not tell you about-"

"TELLMETELLMETELLME!" she insisted, shaking his arm wildly.

"Fine! fine! I will," he laughed. "Promise not to tell anyone else though?"

"Fine," she pouted.

"Good!" He nodded. He bent down to whisper in her ear and she closed her eyes, straining to hear whatever he was telling her above the clamour of the workshop. Then her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Oathbreaker?"

'I wonder what they're on about?' wondered a silver haired bystander.

-Downtown Vale-

"Yeah, I need 1000 rounds of 7.62, 500 of the 5.56 and 1200 of the 9mm. Oh! Also some Ice and Fire dust, powder form please."

With a grunt which Suzaku assumed was a "yes", the elderly shopkeeper retreated to the back for the wares. Whistling a little tune, he tapped his foot and chewed the plastic rod of a lollipop. 'I wonder how the setup is coming along? Last I heard, the temporary station just outside Dell is almost complete.'

The sound of ammo boxes slamming onto the padded countertop shook him out of his musing. Across from him, the old man grunted and turned the cash register's little screen toward the young Nihonian.

'Ouch, that's a lot,' he winced as he forked over his student card. "Charge it to the school." With a nod, the shopkeep swiped the card on the reader and moments later, it spat out a receipt with a *whiiiir*.

With a courteous "Thank you!", Suzaku picked up the cases and waddled out the store, the chime of the shopkeeper's bell announcing his exit. Meanwhile, on the inside, Suzaku could feel his wallet bleed.

True, the costs were underwritten by the school. That said, seeing a four digit price made him want to cry. 'Well, nothing we can do about it I guess. Comes with the job,' he shook his head in resignation. Setting the shopping down on the sidewalk, he pulled out a key and inserted it into the bike in front of him, powering its system with a chirp.

The Destrier ATV MKII, colloquially known to its riders as the Multibike, was a sleek, sport-touring style motorcycle a bit on the short side and covered in a glossy greenish-black with sky blue lines running all over it and extra luggage space on its rear, along with an odd pair of wheels, with each seeming to be made of two thinner tyres pressed together. Once Suzaku stowed away his cargo and ignited its engine, the vehicle pulsed to life with a roar, its stripes flashing a bright pink before settling into a softly glowing cyan.

Checking the cargo to see if it was secure, he gave a satisfied nod and mounted the bike, stowing away its kickstand. Tapping at a screen mounted between the handlebars and docking his scroll, the vehicle's various displays and statistics ran across them briefly before the system gave an all clear with a green glow.

'Right then.' He donned a small, simple black helmet with a blacked out, flip down visor and head vents before pulling away from the curb. 'Remember. You drive on the right side,' he reminded himself.

The drive down earlier in the day did not exactly go well. There was a lot of screaming and honking horns.

'At least they were understanding,' he sighed as he stopped at a traffic light. 'I did get everything right?'

As he sifted through his mind, his eye caught a familiar gray and silver blur race across the rooftops. "Huh. So that's what he's doing." Moving off from the junction, Suzaku grinned to himself as turned onto the avenue that ran along the coastline. With a chuckle, he opened up on the bike's accelerator and roared down the empty street, barring a few cars now and then. 'Thank Kami it's not lunch yet,' he said to himself. He parked the bike, took off his helmet and let the sea breeze hit him. Pulling out a package wrapped in some clingwrap, he munched happily on a small sandwich he bought earlier. 'Let's see. I've got the bullets, snacks, hair care," he took a peek in one of the containers, seeing a half dozen assortment of cans, 'essentials, and the camo. All done!'

Hey, he was playing team errand boy today. He wanted to have a fun drive around town and relax when he was done. Sue him. 'Actually please don't,' he mentally corrected.

Just then, the wail of sirens caught his attention and he turned to look, watching a trio of police cruisers shoot past him to what he vaguely guessed was the commercial district.

'Wait, wasn't that where Rolo was headed?' he wondered. Then he blanched. 'Oh for fuck's sake!' Revving the engine, he chased after the trio, weaving in and out of the ever denser traffic. 'Come on, come on!' He grit his teeth in irritation as he made his way onto the highway. He yanked the throttle and the multibike roared in approval, zipping down the long lanes and tailing the police cars. Eventually, they pulled into an exit, leading into the jungle of steel, glass and concrete. And just up ahead, Suzaku spied a few shops with broken windows, some goons that were handcuffed and prone on the ground and-

Was that a wrecked bullhead?

The fuck happened here?!

Quickly parking the multibike, Suzaku jogged over and to his relief, Rolo was not handcuffed. Instead he stood to the side, talking to a police officer who was taking notes. Beside him was a girl with bright orange hair and green eyes, wearing a white blouse and a grey skirt. There was another girl beside them, with dark skin and a blue blouse and beret combo. Also a weird golden diamond on her forehead.

Suzaku briskly stormed over to the three. "Rolo Lamperouge!" he yelled, the younger boy jumping in shock. "What. The. Hell?! Happened here?!" he worriedly demanded. "I'm so sorry officer for what my teammate has done!" His hand wrapped around the back of Rolo's head and Suzaku pushed down, forcing both of them into a waist height bow. "Eh s'alright, kid," tiredly drawled the officer as he closed his notebook. "Your friend didn't do anything wrong. He helped out with stopping those guys over there." He nodded towards the handcuffed suspects, who were being loaded into the cars.

"Just had to take a statement from him along with the girl over there. Nothing more than that," assured the police officer as he lit a cigarette. "The schools will cover anything. Just try to lessen up on the property damage next time, 'kay?" he asked with a wink.

"Yes sir!" Suzaku answered. "Good kid," nodded the man as he walked off. "I'll call you or the school if we need anything. Otherwise, stay out of trouble!" he called as he waved.

"We will!"

As the cruiser drove off, Suzaku's waving slowed to stop and he turned his head over to Rolo, a sickly sweet smile on his face. "Rolo. Sweet, little Rolo," he spoke with deliberation. 'I'm screwed!' He cried in pain as his cheeks were pinched in vice grips. "What did you do, you silly boy?! Do you know how worried I was!?" screamed Suzaku, shaking his teammate back and forth by the shoulders.

"I'm sOoooOrRyY!" Rolo managed to squeeze out as he was shook. A hopeful gaze was thrown over to the red haired girl, pleading for her to intervene. 'Please, get me out of this!'

Alas, she was dense as iron.

Once Suzaku worked off the anxiety, he took a breath and dropped the faunus, letting him land on his butt in an undignified squeak.

"What do we do with you Rolo?" sighed Suzaku. Pushing himself onto his feet, Rolo dusted himself off, took a deep breath and replied.

"If you gave me a chance to EXPLAIN MYSELF," he emphasised. "Things would be different. I helped the law enforcement thank you very much!"

"Oh, do tell," sarcastically drawled Suzaku. As he began to retell the past hour, he heard a whisper behind him. "Penny, we should really go. Like right now!" hissed a voice. "I don't think that your father nor the general will be pleased if they found out."

"But I wanna be with my new friend!"

Ah ha!

"She can testify for me!" Rolo proclaimed, wrapping an arm around the slowly retreating redhead who squeaked in surprise.

"Really?" asked his brother's partner with a raised eyebrow.

"Now wait just a minute!"

"Not now, Ciel! I'm proving my innocence!"

In contrast to the dark skinned girl, who Suzuki assumed was Ciel, who was protesting, the bubbly redhead eagerly stuck out a hand! "Sa~lu~tations! My name is Penny Polendina! Pleased to meet you!" she greeted cheerily.

Smiling with mirth, Suzaku accepted the gesture and shook. "Good to make your acquaintance, Penny. Rolo says you can vouch for him. Can you?"

"Anything for a friend!" she nodded.

"Well, by all means. Be my guest."

"Right! So I met Rolo just about an hour ago at 1023. I was out for a stroll..."

- 1 hour ago, Vale-

The denizens of Vale were milling about, settling into a familiar place and routine. Children went to school, adults commuted to and from work. Barring the nearly complete repairs from the breach and the news of presumed gang violence the past few days, it was a regular Thursday morning that saw the city gearing up for the Vytal Festival.

That is if no one bothered to look up.

"Woohoo!" whooped a dark blur zipping across the rooftops. It bounded off a wall, shot out a silver line and swung from a streetlamp. With a click, it released its hold and landed soundly on an office building. Snapping up to a 'Y', Rolo smiled jubilantly, adrenaline pumping through his veins. "And he sticks the landing!" he cried in triumph. "WHOO!"

Whipping off his beanie, he plopped down onto the concrete roof with a grin. Pulling a water bottle from his belt, he grinned in satisfaction as he drank, relishing a cool breeze passing by. Gazing out towards the sea, he took in the sight of gleaming blue waters with crashing white waves, bustling crowds and a clear blue sky with a proudly blazing sun.

'Photo op,' he told himself as he took his scroll out of his pocket. With a few electronic *clicks*, the view was preserved. 'Gonna send that to Nunna later. Now,' he wondered as he opened a map of Vale. 'Where to next?'

He had already been through the residential district and the city centre. After that, he hit up the docks, then the industrial area. And he had stayed well away from the upper class districts. Something about property damage and rich people being stuffy about it. He wasn't really paying attention when Lelouch talked to him about his "little strolls".

"Hur durr, you can't go there Rolo!" he imitated. "We can't afford to pay for that much damage! Yeah, right. And last night was totally fine!"

There was something nice about seeing the results of their actions. The knowledge that he contributed to something with such grand repercussions was stunning.

Or maybe he was just an arsonist.

Scrutinising the map, he took one last swig of water, put away the bottle and took out a marker. Popping the cap off with his mouth, he marked the docks with a large check. Now where to next?

Forever Fall sounded nice. But it was crawling with Grimm and the guys were in no position to come in quickly enough if he got bogged down. Agricultural district? Maybe. Vast, open fields, fresh air and forests galore.

'But it's wayyyy too far for me,' countered Rolo. He would have to cross like half of the whole frickin city to get there. 'So Commercial district it is.' With a grunt and a stretch, Rolo got up to his feet, stowing his belongings away in a pouch on his belt. He popped open a little flap on his braces and checked his little gravity-wind reservoirs. 'Looks good,' he concluded.

He limbered up, loosening his muscles and put his beanie back on, making sure his other ears fit through the holes. He jerked his arms down and released some aura, letting the pieces of his armour connect to each other through its rail system with metallic *clicks*. He took a few steps back and breathed deep. Taking a running start, he leapt off the tower with his arms stretched out. As the wind whipped at his eyes, he threw out an arm towards a nearby smokestack and pressed a small button on the side of his proximal index knuckle, pulsing aura through the system. With a pneumatic *hiss*, he felt a familiar pull along his extended arm as the leather straps he wore tensioned around the limb, supporting him as a curved dagger shot out from under his forearm. The cable unspooled and lengthened, letting the blade sail through the air until it latched onto its target, hooking around the smokestack and back onto the cable with a *clank*. Clicking it twice, he jerked forward as the line went taut, the various sheaves along his arm spinning back to reel in the cable. He smiled wildly as he pulled his arm back, unlatching the blade and sending himself sailing forward through the air.

Hurtling like a cannonball, he shot another at a lamppost and soon, he settled into a routine long burned into his muscles. He swung, zipped and shot across the low buildings of the industrial estate, vaulting over cooling units and tumbling over roofs as he made his way to the gleaming spires of glass and steel in the distance. 'Wonder if I should get any souvenirs? Postcards are a must. So is a plushy,' Rolo told himself as the buildings turned from dull concrete to elegant sandstone. 'Guin would like some flowers, for sure. But what would Odd want? And what about-'

"Ohhhhhh shit!" He tried to shoot out a hasty line to halt his motion, seeing a green and orange blur fly up from literally nowhere. But he forgot that inertia was a thing and his momentum carried him into a direct collision course with the weird floating object. With a loud *thud* of bodies slamming into each other, the two tumbled down to the ground with a *crash*!

Luckily, they landed in a park. On soft, comfy carpet grass at that. Though that was not at the forefront of the young Faunus' mind. While the other victim had a soft landing, he was in great, great pain.

"Durin, my back! My face!" groaned Rolo as he regained his bearings and spat out a wad of soil. It felt like slamming into a wall of steel and cloth! Hearing another voice groan above him, eyes snapped open in alarm and he scrambled to his feet and quickly helped the blob, which he now knew was a girl from her voice, to her feet despite the murmurs of passersby and the shuffles of their feet as they quietly tried to get away from what looked like two teens in a tussle. "I'm so sorry!" he apologised as he pulled her to her feet. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

The girl in question held her head in a daze before shaking her head, her eyes regaining focus. Literally apparently. 'I don't think eyes are meant to do that,' commented Rolo offputedly. He watched as each pupil and erratically contracted and dilated independently. Was there a whirring sound? 'Wait, shit. Is she concussed?!' "Quickly, how many fingers do you see?!"

The girl shook her head again and when her eyes opened, they were normal. Huh. That's odd. 'Better not look a gift horse in the mouth,' commented Rolo as he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Three."

"Sorry?"

"Three fingers. You're holding up three fingers, correct?" she asked.

"Oh, uh yes! Yes I am!" he nodded as he put his hand down. "Do you know what date it is? Where you are? What you were doing?"

"Of course! It's May the seventeenth, we're in Mount Glenn memorial park and I was flying up to take in the sights when something hit me!" she rattled off.

"That was me. Sorry," he demurely apologised.

"That's alright! I'm completely fine!" she reassured, giving herself a quick once over. "I'm combat ready!" she proclaimed with an odd salute.

"...Okay," accepted Rolo. "That's… good to hear!"

"What about you? Are you hurt?" asked the odd girl as she advanced onto him, quickly checking all over his body.

"I think I'm okay besides a little bruise," placated Rolo, forcefully but politely pulling himself out of her gloved grasp.

"Sorry! Was I being too rough?" she asked innocently. Before he could answer, her eyes lit up. "Oh my, how impolite of me! I've not introduced myself!" She stuck out her hand. "Penny Polendina, at your service!"

Rolo took a quick pause, gauging the odd amount of friendliness this girl dressed in gray and green accorded him. 'Eh, I'll accept it,' he shrugged to himself as he took her hand. "Rolo Lamperouge, enchanté."

"Salutations, Rolo!" she greeted back. Her hand snatched his and shook vigorously, leaving his shoulder sore. "Strong grip," he commended, trying to hide the pain. What kind of food does one eat for a girl who looks his sister's age and size to have a grip like that?! 'It's like a vice!' he winced as he shook his hand. 'Feels like solid steel!'

"Thanks!" she cheerfully accepted, oblivious to his pain. Well, with a smile and demeanour like that, he really couldn't stay mad at her. Too pure. Far too pure for this world. 'Must protect,' he told himself before he snapped out of it. Where did that come from?!

'Probably my guilt in causing her to crash,' he surmised. There was a moment of awkward silence, neither really knowing how to continue their conversation.

"So, you here for the Vytal Festival?" he asked out of the blue. 'Would make sense if she was. Didn't see her in the Beacon files.'

"I very much am!" she bubbly responded. "I'm here to prove my worth!"

"That's an admirable goal, Penny," smiled Rolo. "Who's your partner?"

"Oh, her name's Ciel Soleil!"

'Really?' Rolo asked, taken aback. 'Who names their kid Sunny Sky? You know what? It's just a four kingdoms thing. I'm not gonna be bothered by it.'

"Is something the matter?" asked Penny, curious about the light sputter he let out. "Oh, no it's nothing. Just had a weird thought, that's all."

"Oh, I see," nodded Penny, gaining a sagely look. "You had one of those so-called brain farts Ruby told me about."

"You know Ruby?"

"Why yes! We met each other at the docks a few weeks back! She's my friend!" she happily recounted. "Would you be my friend?"

Taken aback by the sudden question, Rolo's ears, neutral until this point, sprang back in mild alarm. "Uh, yeah. Sure. I guess I can be your friend."

"Splendid!" she cheered as she surged in for a hug, squeezing tightly and lifting him off the ground. "Penny!" wheezed Rolo, legs flailing and arms pinned to his side, "Can't! Breathe!"

"I'm sorry!" gasped the girl as she quickly released him. "It's alright," he coughed out, rubbing his sore forearms. "Word of advice. Next time, don't try to break bones when giving hugs."

"I'll keep that in mind!" she giggled. "I'll make sure to update my databanks!"

"Right," he neutrally responded. "Say do you want to go eat something? My way of apologising for earlier."

"Hm," Penny hummed. "I should have some time in my schedule. Where do you want to go?"

"Maybe some ice cream?"

"How wonderful!" she cried, latching onto his arm. "I always wanted to try the frozen dairy confectionery!"

"Well, then how about we walk around and look for one? There should be a good one somewhere around here."

"Let's go!" Penny excitedly declared, pulling him along.

"Slow down, slow down!"

"Oops. Sorry!" she apologised, reining herself into a sedate pace.

"So you never had ice cream?" Rolo asked as they explored the malls.

"Nope," Penny shook her head. "My dad never let me."

"Oof. Sounds harsh," winced Rolo in sympathy. It was like that time Nelly banned him from candy for months when she went through that crazy fitness phase. It was torture. Sheer, unparalleled torture that no child should endure! He still had nightmares about it.

"It's not like that," defended Penny. "He just said that it was bad for me back then."

"You're lactose intolerant then?"

"No. He was just concerned about my health."

"Ah, okay," realised Rolo. "Sounds private. I won't push into it then."

"Thanks!"

As they continued walking, Penny had something come to mind. "Hey Rolo," she began, turning her head to look at him. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure. Shoot," he allowed as they rounded the corner. "What's it about?"

"Your name," she said as she gained a pensive look, her head tilting to the side as a finger rose to her. "Lamperouge. Lamperouge," she pondered. "You're from Britannia, aren't you?"

"Good guess!" he commended. "How did you know?"

"I studied up on your homeland," she said. "A lot!"

"Really?" Rolo asked mirthfully. "How about a challenge then? Guess what region I'm from."

"Alright! Any clues?" probed Penny.

"My name is all you'll get."

"Well, let's see," she thought aloud. "Lamperouge is not really an old Mantlian name. It would have more likely been found in what's now Vale and Vacuo. Given what you said earlier, I infer that you, sir, are from the Duchy of Elysia, correct?"

"Bravo! Bravo!" applauded Rolo happily. "Your father has taught you well. It's also where the main campus of Monastery is located."

"Oooh! What's it like?"

"The main school?"

"Uh huh!"

"Well, it's... big. Huge open fields, kind teachers. Great tech for sure. It's located up in the Black Mountains of Carcassonne and overlooks the city, sprawling down towards it. The school itself is made of two sections. The old castle, the original monastery and the new campus which is an extension. Actually," he interposed, a thought running in his mind, "it's more of a citadel come to think of it."

"What about the other campuses?"

"Those are branches. Usually, they're used as dorms for the students and for climate training. Technically, they're their own school, being mostly autonomous. They all fall under the Monastery brand though. There is a new one in Britannian Nihon, though that one is more civilian focused than Paladin. It's called Ashford Academy and falls under the main branch in Elysia. "

"Interesting," noted Penny. "How do you travel to each one?"

"Usually, we take an underground railroad. The one between Elysia and Nihon is like 5 hours? Around there. Now, why don't you tell me about your school?"

"Are you sure? You may not... like it," cautioned Penny.

"Come on! It's only fair," insisted Rolo.

"Okay, I guess I could tell you. I'm from Atlas Academy," she revealed, swallowing her fear.

"Pfft. That's it?" he asked incredulously. "That's what you were afraid of?"

"You're not mad?"

"Why would I be? I've no reason to be angry at you."

"But what about the rivalry? And the war?"

"Bigger things for bigger people. Not my problem," he shrugged indifferently. "Besides, I'm old enough to know that because you're part of something doesn't make you one of them."

"Well, thank you for accepting me!" she beamed.

"It's no problem. That and we're trying to build peace. Arguments would be counterproductive," he added.

"I suppose you're right!"

"So," he clapped. "What's Atlas like?"

"Well it's a floating city, cut out of and located above the old capital of Mantle," she stated factually. "It gets cold and windy at times."

"Wait, it floats?" Rolo asked incredulously.

"Mhm!" nodded Penny.

"...I'm not gonna question it," he groaned with gritted teeth. "So, let's change the topic. What kind of Grimm do you face there?"

"Well, usually we-"

"PENNY POLENDINA! THERE YOU ARE!"

The two winced and turned to the source, seeing dark-skinned girl, roughly around their age, storming over to them. "Where have you been?! I've been looking for you for the past half-hour! Don't you know how worried I was?!" she rattled off, seizing Penny's cheek with a tight pinch.

"I presume that you're her partner?" deduced Rolo, chuckling at his new friend's expense. Noticing the third party, the girl released Penny and regained her composure. "Yes. Ciel Soleil. Partner to Penny Polendina. A pleasure," she greeted insincerely, eyeing him with suspicion even as she extended a hand. "And you are?"

"Rolo Lamperouge. Monastery," he answered, matching her tone. Ciel, as much as she tried to cover it up, flinched when she heard the information. Something that Rolo did not miss. "Excuse me for a moment."

She grabbed Penny's shoulders and hastily rounded a corner, her partner in tow. Rolo, sighing in resignation, leaned against the wall, giving them their space.

That did not stop him from pricking his feline ears up though. Alas, with the bustle of a late morning crowd, he could only gather bits and pieces. But, it sounded harsh.

Snippets like, "What did the general…", "not meant to interact…" and "risking yourself.." were all that he heard before the duo returned. "Everything alright?" he asked cordially. "We're fine

. Just… reminding my partner of some commitments later this evening," explained Ciel.

'Yeah right,' he mentally snorted. "Shall we be on our way then Penny?"

"Yes, let's!" she eagerly replied.

"Now wait just a minute!" Ciel interjected, catching her partner by the shoulder. "We've got a project due. We can't just go gallivanting on a whim!"

"But-"

"But what?!"

"I want ice cream!"

"Geez, Ciel. Let her have her ice cream."

"You!" she snapped, pointing at Rolo. "I don't know who you think you are but you aren't the boss of her. Her school commitments come first and that's final!" Turning to Penny she continued. "Seriously, Penny. What would your father think when he hears about this?"

"Hey, don't-"

"It's fine Rolo," interrupted Penny dejectedly. "Let's go, Ciel."

"Very good! Now about-"

A low rumble echoed through the commercial district, followed by the sharp tinkling of broken glass piercing the air and the sporadic chatter of gunfire. His head whipping to the direction of the source, he heard the shriek of an alarm go off about a block away. And with that, his eyes narrowed and he engaged his gear. "Penny let's go!"

"Right!" she nodded. Her hands hooked under his armpits and with a flash of neon green, they took off.

"HEY! PENNY! COME BACK HERE!"

Leaving Ciel all alone.

Muttering out curses under her breath, she began to run, trying to keep up with the green streak left by the gray and blue blur.

-Present-

"So you tried to stop a bank robbery, crashed their getaway ride," he nodded to the wrecked bullhead carcass behind him, "then fought the robbers until the cops came?"

"Yep!" Rolo proudly confirmed. 'I bet everyone's going to think I'm so cool now! Can't wait to-"

A fist impacting his crown brought him out of his reverie. "OW!? What was that for?!"

"While what you did was good," accepted Suzaku, "you could have let us know about it?!"

'Well there were people in danger!" argued Rolo. "Besides, it wasn't as if I couldn't handle them."

"I know, I know. That aside, good job! I know everyone back home will be proud of you when they hear about it," he praised.

"Really?!"

"Really," grinned Suzaku, ruffling the shorter boy's hair. "Now where's Penny? I would like to talk to her more." So focused were they on each other in their short spat that they lost focus of her and her partner.

"Isn't she right behind me?"

"Not anymore."

Rolo whipped around, scanning the vicinity. But to his dismay, his orange-haired friend was nowhere to be seen. "Ah, don't worry about getting ditched by the girl. I'm sure you'll see her again," assured the Nihonian boy. "Come on, let's go back to Beacon."

With one last look, Rolo followed Suzaku and sat behind him on the bike, riding pinion. And as they rode off, he resolved to focus on other topics in the meantime. "Any progress on the exhibits?"

"They should be ready to open by tomorrow, from what I hear," answered Suzaku as they waited at a stoplight. "You'll have to ask Lelouch if you want to know more."

"Any word from home?"

"Not much. Just the council trying to handle the school without two of its members."

"Its two most competent members."

"Hey, I didn't say that," cheekily grinned Suzaku as they drove down the highway.

'I wonder how Kallen's doing?'

-Meanwhile, in Ashford Academy-

"Achoo!"

"Ooh. Someone's thinking about you Kallen!" teased Milly Ashford, President of the Ashford Academy student council. "I bet it's a boy who's crushing on you!"

"Yeah, whatever," waved the redhead dismissively, turning back to her call.

"Kallen, everything alright?"

"I'm alright Ohgi. So everything is fine for the weekend?"

"It is. Can you make it?"

"Of course I can. I wouldn't miss a chance like this!"

"Right, then we'll see you then! Take care and stay out of trouble!"

"I will. Bye!" With a breath of finality, she ended the call. Now she just had to make it through this farce of a school week. Soon, she'll be available to fight for her home against the imperials and she would revel when they-

"So who's this Ohgi?!" came Mill out of nowhere, snatching her scroll away.

"Prez! Give that back!"

She really hated school. Why were they up so early anyway?

-Vale-

"Eh, probably in class or something," he shrugged.

"What was that?" asked Rolo.

"It's nothing," Suzaku dismissed as they pulled into the bullhead docks. Suddenly, as he dismounted he heard a loud growl come from behind. "Sorry, that was me," admitted Rolo.

"Hungry?" Suzaku asked rhetorically. "Oh no, my animal side is taking over and I'm preparing to devour you whole," sassed Rolo.

"Thanks, but no thanks. You're practically a little brother and I don't swing that way," deadpanned the Nihonian. Dodging a swipe, he chuckled to himself seeing Rolo's flustered expression. "Keep that up and you won't get your candy," he taunted, dangling the keys in front of the younger boy. With a defeated sigh, Rolo ground out, "Fine you win. I'm sorry. Can I have the keys now?"

Making good on his word, Suzaku dropped the ring of keys into the awaiting palm. "So, what do we have this time?" wondered Rolo, unlocking rummaging through the bike's cargo. "Aha!" he announced joyously, pulling out a red bag of liquorice. "Thanks!"

"Don't mention it," Suzaku offhandedly said as the aircraft jerked and lifted off. Then, his scroll pinged and he unlocked it.

"What're Gino and Lelouch doing in the library?" asked the youngest LRGS member, his mouth full of candy.

"Your brother did say he might study. My money's on Gino deciding to mess with him."

"And the girl on his arm?"

"Well, Gino's scouting out the competition."

"That horny bastard!" chuckled Rolo.

-Beacon Academy, Library-

"Lulu, smile!"

Gino's leader took a moment to raise his head from the tome and flashed a fanged pearly white smile, much to the amusement of him and the Shade second year to his side. "Oh, glorious leader you blind us," he smiled as he took a picture.

"There, you have your picture. Now can you leave me alone?" Lelouch asked tiredly, sliding his headphones back on.

"Righto, boss! I'll be out of your hair."

"And go play with your own," finished the elder Lamperouge.

"Well, whatevs," shrugged the largest member of LRGS. He turned to the girl on his arm. "Miss Violette, shall we?"

With a giggle, the two walked off, leaving Lelouch to shake his head in resignation. Just then, his scroll chimed with a message alert. Taking a quick peek, he sighed, "What did you do this time Rolo?" He typed out a quick response, put the device down and continued reading, fiddling with his necklace in the meanwhile.

That was until a familiar girl who smelled of cats pulled out a seat opposite him and sat down. "Hello, Blake. How can I help you this fine morning?" he asked, putting a pause to his music and sliding off his headphones.

"...How did you know it was me?"

"Don't take this the wrong way but I can smell you," he explained matter-of-factly, putting his book down and tapping his nose.

"Wait, what?" she blushed, taken aback.

"You do know I'm a Faunus, right?"

"Oh, yeah. Of course! It's just that your appearance-"

"-doesn't really say so, right?" he finished.

"Yeah," she admitted.

"Don't worry," he lightly chuckled. "You're not the first. Most people assume that Rolo's adopted or a half-sibling but I assure you," he flexed the fingers on his upheld hand, "that there is a one hundred percent blood relation."

His fingers curled and five shining claws of midnight black unleashed themselves for emphasis, making Blake jump in her seat and scrunch her nose.

"So," he continued, retracting his extrahumanly feature, "what can I do you for?"

"I had a few questions that I hoped you could answer. It's about our conversation at the diner. On monday."

"About Britannia, I assume?" he asked, leaning forward.

"Yes."

"Well, by all means," he said, steepling his fingers, "ask away."

"So, about the Faunus' standing in your homeland. How good do they have it?"

"To be frank? Probably better than the other kingdoms," he answered. "Of course, we were second class citizens for most of history until around the 70th reign. That was when we started to move up."

"Why?"

"Something about a plague, if I remember it correctly. That and a small civil war."

"Civil war?"

"Oh yeah, we had a lot of those. How do you think the whole 'warmongering barbarian' thing came along?"

"... The naval raids?" she suggested.

"Oh yeah. Right. Touché."

"What about the nobility?" she asked.

"Second verse, same as the first. A fairly equal dispersion between human and faunuskind in the noble classes. Heck, the Royal Family's been a Faunus one for like, the past 10 to 15 kings if I recall correctly. Granted, not everyone was willing to accept the new race of the monarchy."

"So, what happened?" pressed Blake, fascinated in her kind's history in alien lands.

"There was a bloody rebellion," he answered, fiddling with his necklace. "Luckily, there was enough support for the crown for them to be crushed soundly. Oddly enough, that was where the Duchy system was first properly established. Also helped that most of the seceding lands were hit by the plague like really badly."

"Fascinating!"

"I'm sure it is. I'm glad to see that you're interested." He checked his scroll. "Welp, I have to be somewhere soon. Anything else?"

"Nothing major, no."

"Right then. But I have a feeling that you'll have something soon enough. So!" He stood up and stacked his texts in his arms. "Would you kindly follow me for a moment?"

"Oh. Yeah, sure," Blake said as she trailed behind him. Dropping off the books in a nearby basket, they walked further into the maze of shelves. "So what're you looking for?"

"Something to sate your interest," he answered as they strode by books of all size and content. Fishing out his silver coin from his pocket, he began to absentmindedly flip it as they walked.

"Say, what do you think about the White Fang?"

"The who?" he asked, turning his head to look at her.

"The White Fang. You know, radical faunus rights turned supremacy group?"

"Ohhh, them. Yeah, we've heard about them before. Not really much of a concern for us really. With the isolation and all that stuff." he answered. "Why?"

"Just wanted your opinion. From one faunus to another."

"Well, personally, I don't think highly of them," he voiced out. "The intention was good, but their execution is just terrible. Too many innocents put in the crossfire. They're no more effective than, I don't know, a bunch of whiny teens with guns."

"That's ironic," she giggled.

"On so many levels," he agreed. As they continued to journey, the books began to become fewer and fewer. "It should be around… here!" He stopped by a section of the library that was empty. Pulling a ladder that was built into the shelves, he yanked it over and scaled it, pulling out a green hardback book with pictures of various moments printed on its cover. "Here we go," he said to himself in satisfaction. He slid down the ladder and handed her the book. "Here. This should tell you a fair amount."

She took a look at the cover. "A History of Civil Rights in the Empire of Britannia, By Dr Alexander Clyde." She looked up at him. "Thank you," she said with gratitude. "Hey quick question," she started, catching his interest.

"Go ahead," he nodded.

"Why are you so polite? Like, all the time?"

"Odd question but I'll take it. May I know why though?" he asked in turn, leaning against a shelf.

"Just curious. No one's really been this polite consistently."

"Well, growing up around nobility and gentry must have rubbed off on me, I suppose," he shrugged.

"Nobility?"

"Oh, you don't know? Gino's the son of the Viscount Weinberg and the Baroness Dunbroch," he stated factually.

"Gino?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes."

"Him?"

"Mhm."

"But he acts nothing like the part!" she whisper-shouted.

"I know he usually doesn't," snorted Lelouch. "But, when the situation calls for it the change is so drastic you'd think he has a split personality. So yeah, growing up with him did influence me. That and the whole 'Paladins are supposed to be gallant knights' thing."

"Care to elaborate?" asked Blake, intrigued.

"It dates back to something about how the Paladins were originally meant to defend the people and comprised the heirs of the gentry. So, in that vein, we're kind of expected to carry ourselves in a genteel manner with everyone. Though it's not so strict these days," he explained.

"I see."

"But, personally, I just find that it's best to be decent and polite to everyone you meet."

"It's only proper," she summarised, nodding her head. "I can respect that." Her scroll chimed in her pocket and she fished it out. "Ugh. Really Yang?" she huffed.

"Nice talking to you Lelouch," Blake said, pocketing the device. "But I need to go. Team RWBY things."

"By all means, go to your business. I won't hold you," he responded. "Come to me if you need any more questions answered."

"I will," she smiled. "It was a good talk. See you around!" With that, she made her way out of the library.

'Good talk,' mused Lelouch. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a flash of grey that hastily retreated from his view. 'I swear that guy has been tailing me for the past few hours,' he glowered to himself. 'I might need to deal with him soon enough.' With those thoughts, he pushed off the bookshelf and strolled to the entrance. Picking out a book on the way, he continued to think to himself. 'The Grimm have been delivered. The knightmare displays are nearly ready,' he said to himself as he mentally ticked off a checklist. 'Now all that's left is to-'

As exemplary a squire he was, even Lelouch had his moments of weakness and vulnerability. One such lapse was this moment, when he rounded a corner. Such was his focus on his tasks that he was distracted from what was in front of him until it was too late.

"Eep!"

"Oof!"

*CRASH*!

An inordinate amount of books fell and clattered onto his head as he tripped, stumbled and fell forward. His arms shooting out, they slammed onto the carpeted floor and held steady even as the back of his head fell prey to texts, hard or paperback.

"Ouch~," he winced to himself, bemoaning the dull soreness of his skull. As he blinked the pain away, he took stock of the situation. And cursed to himself for getting himself into this position.

Because between his splayed out hands, holding a lone book in her hands and close to her chest, was a girl with startled eyes staring back at him. It did not help that one of his knees had slid up between her thighs. 'Thank Durin Milly isn't here!'

"I'm so sorry!" he quickly apologised as he got to his feet. "Here," he said, extending a hand, "let me help you up."

She took his hand and he pulled the student to her feet. As she brushed aside a lock of hair that had fallen in front of her face, he made quick work, gathering the scattered book.

"Here you are, Miss. Your books," he said, picking the last one off the floor and onto a pile in his hands. "Are you planning to borrow all these?"

The dumbstruck student, who he now noticed was dressed in a black uniform and about his age, gave a muted "yes" as she smoothed out her outfit.

"Then allow me to help you carry them. Please," he offered, one hand shifting to support the weight of the stack as the other stretched out, expectant of the last book that she held. Once he received it, he plopped it onto the top of the pile, readjusted his grip, and walked behind the girl as she strode ahead.

'Nice legs,' he mentally appraised, though he wouldn't be caught dead saying that aloud. They made a quick stop by the counter, let the librarian scan out the books, and off they went.

"I assume we're headed to the dorms?" he piped up. The girl looked back and gave the briefest of nods before striding on ahead, making him speed up as well. 'Please don't let me run into the guys. I'd never hear the end of this!' he begged as they crossed the courtyard.

He could imagine the pictures and gossip already. "The cool and collected Vice President is taking orders from a foreign student?!", "Who is this mysterious woman?!", "What a SIMP!"

He shook himself away from the rampant imaginations as they climbed up the stairs to the third level. They walked down the hallway in an uncomfortable silence before stopping at a door. 'Well, that's a coincidence,' casually noted Lelouch. 'It's directly below ours.'

"Here we are," the girl announced, stopping him in his tracks. "I'll take it from here," she said, hold her hands out.

"You sure?" he asked.

"Affirmative," she plainly said.

"Very well then," he acknowledged, passing the pile of tomes over. "Carefully now," he cautioned, seeing her struggle under the weight a bit. "Again, I must apologise for bumping into you back there," he said, rubbing his head sheepishly, "I was distracted and didn't see you."

"It's alright," she assured. "But, thank you for the help. You didn't have to make the offer. It's very much appreciated," she grunted, shifting to hold the stack better.

"Think nothing of it. My honour would have me do nothing less," he admitted.

"Now that you mentioned it," she began, "I need you to help me unlock the door. The scroll's in my right pocket." She shifted her hip toward him for easier access.

"Sure. Don't mind me," he murmured as his hand reached for the device. A few moments of uncomfortable silence later, he fished it out and tapped it against the lock. "There you go," he said in satisfaction, holding the door for her.

"My, what a gentleman," she purred as she strutted in. Setting the texts down on a nearby desk, she turned back to him. "You know? All this help for me and I never got to know your name."

"Ah! Fair maiden," he enunciated dramatically, getting her to quirk her lips, 'Where are my manners? Lelouch Lamperouge, Monastery College, at your service."

"Pleased to meet you," she greeted.

"Might I know the fair lady's name?" he asked, leaning against the door. Now that they were standing still, he got a better look at this new acquaintance. Her uniform was mainly black with silver piping and had a white armband on her upper left arm and a plaid skirt of the same colour. She wore loafers with black socks on legs that seemed to go for a mile, contrasting greatly with creamy white skin. Two warm and confident pools of honey stared back into sharp violet and her hair was the colour of charcoal.

'Smells of it too,' noted Lelouch, his faunus senses picking up the faint scent.

"Alright fine," she accepted as she stuck a hand out. Way ahead of schedule but no matter. "You can call me-"

-The Three Brothers-

"-Don Monty! And we will drive this whelp out of our town!"

Applause broke out around the massive banquet table as the rotund mobster raised a glass, bringing the others to follow suit. After his early morning rage, he had called his cadres from all over Vale to meet up at Macquar's club, The Three Brothers.

A shame about that boy. He had such a bright future ahead but now he sat in jail, awaiting trial. Oum, it was so annoying to rig the judge and jury these days! But that was a concern for later. Right now, he was focused on the gathering of his men.

With a proud smile, he drank from the goblet and sat back down, placing a napkin on his lap as waiters brought the food out. "Good speech boss," praised Guido. The Don nodded in acknowledgement as a fatty rack of lamb was placed in front of him. Pudgy fingers grasped bone and jowls wobbled as he tore apart the meat with gluttonous drive. "It's all passion, Guido," the Don offhandedly said.

"Nonetheless, it was very rousing. I'm sure that we'll flush out the MF by the month," spoke a high-ranking lieutenant of the Pioneers. This was Winston Janus, longtime member of the Alpinista family and trusted colleague. He headed and directed the family's hit squads.

"Any news on your front Winston?" asked the Don as he took a swig of wine. The grey and wrinkling veteran mobster shook his head. "Unfortunately, no major leads yet my friend," admitted Winston as he cut into his meat. "But have faith, they only revealed themselves yesterday. Give it time. Their arrogance will be their downfall."

"Damn right it will be!" chimed in another lieutenant who overheard the conversation. "Hear hear!"

"HEAR HEAR!"

With a hearty laugh, the room descended into lively chatter and utensils scraping fine ceramic. Turning to Winston, Monty wiped his mouth and asked, "So Winston, how soon can we send your boys out to hunt these nuisances down?"

"Within three days," Winston confidently assured. "There's very little places they can hide. Even if they dig in outside Vale, say at Dune or Dell, we will find them."

"Good. Very good," nodded the Don happily. He grasped his wine glass and took another sip, relishing its flavour. But as he put it down, he felt a tingle and numbness touch his arm. The stem slipped from his glass and toppled onto the stark white tablecloth, spilling dark red liquid on the sheet.

"Dammit," grimaced Monty. "Guido! If you will."

The bodyguard snapped his fingers and a waiter came forth, filling the Don's glass once more. "Everything alright Don?" asked his aide.

"Bah! I'm fine!" waved off his boss. "Fingers must be oily," he said as he wiped them.

"Well I assure you that those fingers will be digging into Zero's eyes soon enough," chuckled Winston as he stabbed at a morsel. "Maybe even get at Torchwick afterwards."

"Oh, you know it!" laughed the Alpinista head. Suddenly, his laughter turned to violent hacks as he started coughing. "Don! What's wrong?" asked Guido, rubbing his boss's back and handing him a cool glass of water. As his coughing subsided, Monty nodded in thanks and drank, relieving himself of the pain.

"Looks like you need to quit smoking Monty," quipped Winston. "Maybe you're right, Winnie. Maybe you're right," admitted the Don. As the lunch went on, Guido started to feel hot, with sweat beginning to form on his brow. As he pulled his collar to ventilate, his boss took notice.

"What's wrong Guido?" he asked.

" 'S nothin boss," he assured, fanning himself. "Feeling a little warm, that's all."

"Are you sure, boy? I don't feel a thing," replied Winston, putting a hand to his head.

"Come to think of it, I'm feeling something too," the Don spoke up. "Must be the summer climate. Guido! Tell the staff to turn up the AC will you?" As Guido relayed his orders, the Don began to feel uneasy, even as cold air began to waft in. And Winston was of the same mind too.

'Something ain't right.'

-Unknown Location-

A scroll trilled out its ringtone amid the Valian evening. Its owner, lounging on a plush couch with a glass of brandy, answered the call as he watched the sunset, the nearby TV blaring out the news, the sky splattered with brilliant colours that reminded him of home. Of his little sister. "Yes?" he asked.

"Alright," he nodded, setting the glass down on a table and taking a notepad.

"Uh huh."

"Yeah."

"It's been moved right?"

"Good."

"Well done. Is everything in place?"

"Perfect."

"I'll take care of my end. Make sure he gets here safely."

"That will be all."

He ended the call and took a sip, scratching his ear. "The boys have done their part,' he muttered, groaning as he stood up. "Time to do mine."

-Unknown Hotel, Vale Upper Class District-

The last few days were strange for Oak. Monday saw him arrested, receive some info from a weird Atlas chick and later from the nurse delivering his meal, saying what boiled down to "Sit tight. We'll get you out."

Then, on Wednesday night, he was escorted by a buncha those shiny and new Atlas Knights onto a bullhead, sent up to those airships and then was shoved into one of those spiffy new Atlas aircrafts. Mantas, they were called. Supposedly, he was headed for Ladon Supermax prison, located in the frigid Atlas mountains. Definitely not a place he'd want to go. So imagine his surprise, and relief, when the pilot deactivated the knights, set the aircraft to autopilot, gave him a quick briefing and unlatched his cuffs. Meanwhile, the copilot pulled out three clothed dummies that looked nothing like them, strapped said decoys into their chairs before making a call on a scroll.

-Flashback, Wednesday Night-

Oak watched in fascination as the two pilots, who were obviously not Atlesians, set about performing various tasks about the Manta with machine-like efficiency.

"What the hell are you guys doing?" he wondered aloud as he rubbed his free wrists. One of them turned to him and smiled as he took off his pilot's helmet and attached a little button to its comms set before setting it on his replacement. "Wait and see, mon ami." Then he helped the former White Fang Lieutenant out of his seat and into a wheelchair.

"What?" His question fell on deaf ears as the loud whine of another aircraft blocked out all noise. Opening the starboard door, the pilot waved over to their neighbour while his copilot undid gestured for Oak to get up and follow him to the door, which now had a gangway attached to it from the fellow flyer.

"Just go across! We'll be right behind you!"

With a tentative nod, Oak slowly wheeled his way onto the gangway, trying his best to ignore the dizzying height and the roaring winds that whipped at his hair and prisoner jumpsuit, his hands gripping tightly onto the handrails as they passed over Vale's northern sea. Heaving a sigh of relief as he stepped onto the unknown aircraft, he was ushered to a space by what looked to be a medic from whatever military she was from, though he had his suspicions already. He was given a blanket, a nice hot drink in a mug and a muffin. With a content smile, he relaxed into his surprisingly comfortable wheelchair.

As the shuttle's doors hissed shut and the gangway retracted, one of the pilots pulled out his scroll and looked to his partner.

"Est-ce que tout est prêt?"

"Ouais. On peut y aller." nodded his copilot as he pulled out his own. As he said so, Oak could feel the aircraft bank right, away from the still flying Manta.

Then he jumped in his seat when he heard the loud blast of an explosion a minute later. Wheeling to the door to look out the window, he spotted the Atlesian craft now smoking from its wing turbines, plummeting to the earth.

"Mayday! Mayday!" cried the pilot. "This is Manta 1-2! We're being attacked by Grimm. Repeat. We're being attacked by Grimm! Engaging evasive manoeuvres!"

The scroll crackled with the comms of the Atlesian air control. "Manta 1-2 this is air command. We read you! Reinforcements are incoming. Hang tight!"

"I can't shake em!" huffed the pilot with faux panic. He turned to his copilot and gave a thumbs up. With a silent nod, his partner pressed a button on his scroll, resulting in another explosion as more flames broke out on the Manta's hull.

"Hang in there soldier!" ordered the air controller. "Just a little longer! What's your status?"

"Our turbines are down. Fuselage is compromised. We need to make an emergency landing!" He then gave his copilot another nod. Though he could not hear what was happening, Oak guessed that something major just occurred in the Manta. Probably had a warning siren going off if the pilot's change in tone was anything.

"We're leaking fuel! Damn Nevermores hit the tank! We're going down!" On cue, the copilot pressed another command on his scroll and Oak eyes widened as the Manta began to drop towards the sea, trailing fuel, fire and smoke.

"We're going down! We're going down! Moving for emergency landi-"

The copilot tapped one final command in his scroll and the Manta transport erupted into a magnificent ball of flame, pieces of its hull thrown all over and plummeting into the water, leaving it with white pockmarks of splashes. Meanwhile, Oak watched on in morbid fascination.

With a nod, the two disconnected their scrolls and took a deep breath. Then the sound of slow applause brought the attention of the three to a man that entered the passenger bay, a senior ranking one from the sharp salutes the pilots gave.

"Impeccable performance gentlemen," he praised. "Go take a rest." With a short cry of "sir!", the two exited the room, leaving Oak alone with him and the medic, who wheeled in a tank with a mask attached.

"It's good to meet you, Mr Nago," greeted the man, extending a hand. "I hope we will work together splendidly in the future."

Dumbfounded, Oak could do little but shake hands with the man who now stood over him. Smiling, the elder gentleman withdrew it. "I'm sure you want answers and trust me when I say your questions will all be answered in due time. But for now, I must ask that you rest so that we may help you recover quickly. Is that alright?"

While the woman, who was definitely not a medic at this point, prepares the gas tank, he could only nod dumbly at the suggestion, seeing no other choice.

"Thank you for your cooperation," smiled the man. As he turned around and exited the way he came, the lady (nurse? anaesthetist?) came into centre view.

"Hello Mr Nago," she politely greeted as she fitted the mask over his face. "I'm going to administer the ether now. Are you ready?"

"I guess I am?" he answered uncertainly, having finally found his voice. What else could he do?

"Alright then," she smiled. "I'm going to count down from ten. I just need you to close your eyes and focus on the numbers."

She reached over to the valve and released it, the hiss of gas hosing through the tube and into the mask filling his ears.

"10. 9. 8."

He slowly closed his eyes, focusing on the lull of the countdown.

"7. 6. 5."

His vision began to blur and small reddish-black spots began to appear in his view. Time seemed to slow as the dots spun and gradually grew bigger, clouding his vision as he drifted off.

"4. 3…"

He never finished the countdown.

-Flashback End, Present-

When he came to, he had found himself in a cushy hotel room in the heart of Vale's upper-class area, near the seaside from the distant cries of seagulls. Rising from a bed he could not afford, he noticed that his orange prisoner's jumpsuit was gone and replaced by a simple pair of boxers and t-shirt, his broken leg held in an odd-looking brace that kinda itched but somehow let him move, his jaw free of any pain or discomfort and his tusks shaved down, little more than nubs flush to his jawline. That last bit was odd but he was in no position to question that part. Besides, when he was Adam's lieutenant he needed them short for his mask anyway. Across from him, on the TV console was a neatly folded set of clothes, a keycard and a little paper card. Taking a drink from a nearby glass of water, he enjoyed the relief it brought to his parched throat. Plodding groggily on the carpet, he picked up the card and read.

'Wear these clothes and head up to the executive suite?' he read. With a shrug of his shoulders, he picked them up and moved to the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, he stepped out, all freshened up and in a white shirt and black pants. Taking a moment to look himself in the mirror, he smoothened out his outfit and did his cuffs as he took stock of his situation. In any other circumstance, he would've followed what he learnt in the WF and bail. But with the recent events, he threw caution to the wind. Slipping on the black socks and blazer left for him at the entrance, he put on the shoes and stepped out into the carpeted hallway.

Entering the elevator, he swiped his card on the reader and pressed the button labelled "ES".

As the lift ascended with a gentle rumble, he tugged at his collar and tapped his foot in suppressed anxiety. Who saved him? His hand went up to scratch at the stumps of his tusks as his mind wandered.

Who the hell are these people? Britannians? Seems to be with what they spoke last night. But what do they want me for? Why do these clothes fit so well? Did they measure me in my sleep? Why am I here? How did they-

The soft chime of a bell and the gentle rumble of opening doors brought him back to the present. Stepping out of the lift, he entered a quaint corridor, neatly decorated with blue carpeting, cream coloured walls and a large set of double doors at the end. With a gulp, he slowly approached them, his shoes barely making a sound on the carpet, even with the slight limp he had. He raised a fist and knocked on the lovingly varnished door, taking note of how the only extravagance present were the golden door handles and a crowning just below his eye level. Probably for a peephole.

'Cherry wood. Very nice,' he offhandedly appraised. Just as he was about to run his hand on it, the door opened with a soft *clunk* and out popped a head of red hair. Half a face peered out with a calculating blue eye, scanning Oak's figure. "Can I help you?"

"Um, yeah." Oak reached into a pocket and pulled out the card from before, I was told to come up here?"

"It's alright. We're expecting him," called a familiar voice from within. "You sure about it boss?" asked the redhead as he turned to face him.

"Let him in, boy. He won't attack us," reassured the voice. With an unintelligible mutter, the redhead took a step to the side and let the door swing open, allowing Oak to sheepishly walk in.

The suite was breathtaking. Overlooking the skyline of Vale, it was an impressive sight to behold from the panoramic windows that faced him. The room he entered was expansive, definitely bigger than the one he woke up in, and had a pair of black leather couches facing each other with a quartet of plush armchairs, all surrounding a glass coffee table atop a bearskin rug. He briefly took notice of the two doorways that led out to other rooms on either side. One was probably the master bedroom while the other probably led to other bedrooms or perhaps a kitchen. Not that he would know. He didn't spend time in places like this often.

But his eye was drawn to the welcoming face that sat on one of the couches. Completely relaxed, a middle-aged, red-haired man looked up at Oak with a warm smile. One arm draped over the backrest, he wore a simple navy blue suit and white shirt, its collar unbuttoned. The one from last night! His faded auburn hair was slicked back neat and his green eyes shone with a hint of mischief, despite the crow's feet that began to form there. "Ah! Mr Nago! So happy you could join us!' he greeted as he stood up. He vigorously snatched and shook Oak's hand, not caring in the slightest at his guest's discomfort. "Please, sit!" he gestured to the opposing sofa.

With a muted thanks, Oak eased himself onto the seat, relishing to take some pressure off his leg. "Nathan, close the door, would you? And don't be so tense! Mr Nago here is our guest!"

"Yes, milord," the now-named Nathan replied. He gently closed the door with a soft *click* and a louder *click*, much to Oak's surprise. His head whipped around and he spied the aforementioned man tucking something into the back of his pants. 'No prizes for guessing what that is,' he dryly thought.

"So, Mr Nago," began the man. Turning back to face him, Oak was slightly offput by his host's forthcomingness. "I trust your recovery has no problems so far?"

"Yeah, about that. Who are you people? What do you want with me? What is this thing?" he asked, raising and lowering his encased leg.

"All in good time, my friend. But first, a drink!" Nathaniel stepped into the room, carrying a tray with a pair of cups and a teapot in the middle. Setting it on the table, he stepped out of the room, leaving the two to their privacy. "So, how do you like your coffee?"

"I think I'll pass, thanks," answered Oak, still unnerved.

"Still trying to adjust eh? That's understandable," nodded the man, setting to work on his own cup. 'Oum that's a lot of sugar,' grimaced Oak as he watched. Six cubes?

"So, where to begin…" mused the man after taking a sip. "Maybe who we are? He is clearly uncomfortable," chimed in Nathaniel as he set a large brown envelope on the table. "My apologies forgot to bring this in earlier. By your leave," he bowed as he exited.

"Good idea Nate!" called out the man. Turning back to Oak, he gave an apologetic grin. "I must apologise for not introducing myself sooner, Mr Nago! You can call me Sig. Sig Walken. A pleasure to meet you."

"Well, it's a start," Oak shrugged. "But still, who are you? What do you want?"

"Unfortunately, I can't tell you everything yet," answered Sig. "But for a start, I believe you already met Nathaniel. That second question, however, relates to who you are."

He reached over to the envelope and opened the tab, pulling out a document. "Ochre 'Oak' Nago," he dictated, catching his guest's attention. "Height: 210 metres. Weight: 84 kg. Hair colour: Black. Eye colour: Green. Affiliated with the White Fang's Vale Branch. Charged with Terrorism, Assault, Battery, Murder and Destruction of private property among many others. Boar Faunus. Worked in a lumbering and carpentry company prior to radicalisation. Family of six. Is this you?"

"And what if it is?" growled Oak.

"Easy there. I'm not gonna turn you in. Besides, even if I did, the police would have a hard time believing me."

"Why?" Oak asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Status: Deceased," Sig said plainly.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"As I said, you're officially dead." As he said this, Sig pulled out a newspaper clipping from the packet and gave it to Oak. His eyes widened as he read the headline and had a shocking realization. 'Wait. It's Friday?! I was out for a whole day?!' Oak said to himself in disbelief.

PRISONER TRANSPORT DISASTER: ATLESIAN SHUTTLE FOUND OFF NORTHERN COAST, 3 DEAD. GENERAL BLAMES GRIMM.

"All that was your doing?"

"Yep!" Sig proudly said, "Dain and Guy really pulled it off!"

"But why?"

"To put simply? We need your intel," his host bluntly replied, standing up. "You see, the organisation I'm a part of is looking to enter Vale's 'markets'. Only problem is that the WF, your former comrades, are a massive obstacle that we need to 'get around'.' Sig stood up and began to pace. "That is where you come in. Am I right to say that you harbour little sentiments for them?"

"Yes," said Oak in bubbling excitement. Unfortunately, he felt an ache in his calf at that moment, and he winced in pain. It did not go unnoticed.

"That is exactly why we want your help, my friend. Your former position as lieutenant is one that holds great value to our endeavours. Is everything alright with your leg?" asked Sig, sitting back down. "It's fine. It could be way worse," replied the boar faunus. "While on that topic though, what exactly is this?" He gestured to the brace, a navy blue feature with a thin, faintly glowing pink strip running down the sides. He lifted his leg up and down. "I don't feel any pain."

"A brilliant advancement in medical technology, courtesy of my homeland," Sig pointed out, unconsciously rubbing his left knee. "That little thing holds your leg together and speeds up the recovery. It's powered by your aura and boosts your healing with a little sakuradite-painkiller cocktail. The latter is obvious but the former, in the right dosage, can substantially enhance your aura's healing functions. Administered via tiny needles throughout the frame, what would take months now takes weeks. We call it the PegLeg. Impressive isn't it?"

"It is," agreed Oak in amazement. "Wait, your homeland?"

"I'm sure you can guess where we are from at this point," smiled Sig.

"What does Britannia want with me?" asked Oak. "I'm just a lieutenant."

"As I said before, Oak. Your intel and insights. And don't worry about any further betrayal. I give you my word that we will protect you. Besides." Sig flexed his fingers and claws popped out. "You're among kin."

"That's a relief. But not enough to convince me. What else?" demanded Oak. He felt a little bad for abusing the hospitality. But with his experience in the WF, he was more than inclined to be suspicious of anything blatantly well-wishing.

"Very well. How about we protect your family too?" offered Sig. "We can get them out of Atlas. Away from the SDC who undoubtedly want payback after learning who you were."

"That would be better, yes," nodded Oak, his eyes sharp and serious. "So I take it you want to join us?"

"So long as they are safe, I'll do it," Oak said with finality. Sig grinned and extended his hand. "And I personally guarantee that they will be." Oak took his hand in a firm grasp and the men sealed their pact.

"Now then, let's get down to business," continued Sig. "Any questions before we begin?"

"Just one. Can I have a coffee?"

-Beacon, Team LRGS Dorm-

"Quick! This way!"

"Wait for me!"

"Come here!"

"Get away from her!"

"Don't leave me!"

"NO!"

Lelouch awoke with a start, shooting up from the mattress. His chest glistening, his startled breaths gradually eased and deepened. His hand retreated from the bedpost, where he kept Treachery hanging. 'Another one?' he asked himself, eyes darting around the room for nonexistent threats. 'Why now?'

'What time is it?' he groggily wondered as he fumbled for his charging scroll. When its screen awoke, his eyes were assaulted by the white light of a screen on max brightness, making him hiss in annoyance and drop the scroll, letting it clatter on the phone. "For fucks' sake," he quietly groaned. "Too early for this shit." He blinked the dots from his eyes and when his vision cleared, he unlocked his scroll, well away from squinting eyes.

'Oum, it's three a.m ?!' He groaned to himself, letting his head fall back onto the pillow with a hollow *thump*. 'No way am I sleeping again now,' he ruefully thought to himself. With an annoyed grunt, he forced himself out of bed, stumbling over to the bathroom with a change of clothes. He stepped into the shower and blasted himself with icy water, jolting himself awake.

He quickly brushed his teeth, gargled his mouth and spit. As he rose back to full height, his eyes drifted to his chain. Picking it up, he gazed at it sentimentally. "I'll avenge you. One day," he swore.

He swiftly and quietly made his way to the door, grabbing Oath along the way and dressed in gray sweatpants and a black tanktop. "Lelouch?"

He stopped in his tracks and turned around to see his little brother, holding a plushie under his arm. "Sorry, Rolo. Did I wake you up?"

"Yeah," his younger brother yawned, rubbing his eye. "Another nightmare?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Rolo asked, concerned. "It's been going on for some time, hasn't it? Have they been getting worse?"

"They have but meditation has helped with them. I'm alright," reassured Lelouch.

"Whatever you say. Just remember that I'm here for you. All of us are," reminded Rolo. A strong and capable leader, Lelouch was. But a poor, tortured and fragmented soul was he also. One who saw too much for his age.

"Oh little brother," sighed Lelouch, ruffling Rolo's hair affectionately. "What would I do without you?"

"Something stupid or suicidal probably," shrugged the younger Lamperouge. The two shared a morbid chuckle at that.

"Well, don't worry about me," said Lelouch, opening the door. "I'm just gonna go on my own. Go get some sleep."

"I will," nodded Rolo as he watched his brother step through the door. "See you later in class."

"You too," returned Lelouch. He closed the door softly with a click and Rolo trudged back to bed, collapsing onto the white mattress and drifting off.

-Beacon, sparring arena-

The sharp *clangs* of metal on metal echoed throughout the room. The stands were filled with students from the four corners of the globe, decked out in their battle gear as they watched two of the peers do battle on the stage below.

Russel Thrush ran in for another flanking manoeuvre, Shortwings slicing through the air as he dodged another grenade before closing in, eyes focused on the opponent in front of him.

Nora Valkyrie. The ditzy redhead of Team JNPR. Ever since the Forever Fall incident, Cardin and the rest of team CRDN had stayed well away from JNPR, out of fear and some odd measure of respect. Of course, some, like Russel, found it a bit hard to swallow his pride and so gave it their best to defeat or prove themselves better over JNPR members whenever they could. Like now.

With a cry, he leapt over a low swing from Magnhild, Nora's monster of weapon with questionable ammo supply. Seriously, where does she keep her grenades?!

He bore down with his twin daggers, smirking as he landed small cuts on the pink girl. Jumping back just as she took a swing at him, he took a moment to compose himself and look at the scoreboard. His aura bar was in the orange, just above Nora's, which was dangerously close to red. 'Time to finish this!'

Switching Shortwings to lightning dust, he charged straight at the hammer maiden in what would be suicidal. But she was predictable and he could use that. He slid under a wide, shoulder level swing and got under her guard. "You're mine!" he declared. He sprang up and thrust both blades forward, pulsing his aura through them, lacing their edges with arcing electricity as they drove into her gut.

'YES!'

But to his dismay, he heard no applause. Instead, a dark chuckle emanated from his opponent, Her eyes glowed with power and her muscles seemed to bulge and swell. He had no time to react as her forehead came rocketing down to his nose, sending him stumbling back in a daze.

"You're mine!" he heard her joyfully exclaim. He saw her take a big swing up and then he felt weightless, his breath driven out of his body. As he began to flop down, another swing came baring from the side. Any other would have been terrified. But Russel had already resigned himself.

'Not again.'

The face of the hammer whammed into his midsection, sending him out of the arena and into the wall, exhausted and nearly unconscious. "Winner! Nora Valkyrie!" Team JNPR and Team RWBY cheered for their friend, who bounced up the stairs and happily sat back down with her teammates. "Mr Thrush," Glynda started. "Good work getting into her guard. I suggest, however, that you work on your reflexes and defence more. It would also do you good to understand your opponent. Understood?" she asked as she helped him up.

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. Now go see the nurse and get patched up. Dove, accompany him." As the two walked out of the class, Goodwitch turned to look up at Nora. "Miss Valkyrie! Well done on your victory! Perhaps work on your agility next time. You took too many hits to be acceptable in the field.'

"You got it teach!" the redhead crowed from up top.

With a nod, Glynda turned to face her class as a whole. "Now class we have time for one more bout. Any more volunteers?"

Emerald half-expected for Mercury to challenge another strong contestant. So imagine her surprise when she heard no proclamation. Looking to her left, she saw a vacant seat. Then her scroll pinged and she hastily took it out.

"Where are you!?" she typed.

"I'm in the toilet!"

"Hurry up! We need to scout the others!"

"Don't rush me!"

"Is something the matter, Miss Sustrai?"

"No ma'am!" Emerald answered, snapping to attention. With a suspicious nod, Glynda then announced, "Very well. Then I'll pick." She then pressed a button on her scroll and the left-hand portrait began to spin, running through the cohort of students present with a simulated sound of a ticker.

"Never mind you're too late."

The roller began to slow, each tick becoming longer than the last until it settled on its choice with a *DING*.

A student with black hair and purple eyes.

"Lelouch Lamperouge!"

"You got it, Professor!" He stood tall, walked down to the guardrail and hopped over, landing below with nary a sound. 'Impressive for one wearing boots and armour,' Glynda quietly noted. As he stepped onto the stage, she asked, "Anyone you wish to challenge?"

"I'm fine with anyone," he calmly said. With a nod, she turned back to her scroll and pressed the button again, the randomizer spinning to determine his opponent. The cohort waited with bated breath. They had never seen a Britannian fight with weapons before. Ruby could hardly contain herself, looking forward to seeing the weapons Lelouch told her about yesterday. And it grew larger and harder to contain as the ticker slowed. "You know what's funny?" asked Blake, causing heads to turn. "What?" asked Weiss.

"I think I know what type of Faunus Lelouch is now," she declared. "You sure?" asked Yang. "I would've thought that Rolo was adopted or something."

"No," Blake shook her head. "He showed me his claws yesterday when I asked him about it."

"Cool!" excitedly praised Ruby. "Do you happen to know what Rolo's is?"

"No idea yet, unfortunately," the faunus conceded. "Maybe you could ask him."

"Enough with the hypotheticals!" jumped in Yang. "What species is he?"

"Well from what I could tell, he kind of smelled like my dad..."

"Smelled?!"

"Ew, your dad?!"

"Blake is there something you're not telling us?"

"Oh hush, all of you!" she hissed, flustered by the implications. "I meant that my dad has a similar smell so I'm deducing that Lelouch's species is somewhere close to that."

"So what is your dad?"

"He's a panther."

"Okay, so it's a big cat."

Meanwhile, down below, Lelouch felt oddly unsettled seeing Team RWBY whisper among themselves conspiratorily and occasionally glance over to them. 'Please, no more fangirls,' he prayed to whoever was listening.

"With the way he carries himself, some of the smaller ones like the leopard or the jaguar can be ruled out," began Blake.

The roller slowed from a blazing blur to a corrigible pace, each face no longer mashed into a flurry.

"He doesn't bear stripes so a tiger is unlikely," she continued

The roller slowed even more.

"And with how he carries himself," she considered, "it's almost as if he's-"

Eventually, it became a crawl.

"The second fighter is…" announced Glynda Goodwitch.

"-A Lion."

*DING*!

"Oh how I wish I had done more during the war, saved more lives. If I could turn back time, I would have sheltered more children, to hear them call me aunt Aggy just one more time..."

-Major Specialist Agatha Fria on the Nihon War

Student Profile:

Name:

Lelouch Lamperouge

School:

Monastery College

- Ashford Academy (Britannian-Nihon Branch)

- La Citadelle Harakoni (Elysia/Main Branch)

Aliases:

- Overachiever

- [REDACTED]

- [REDACTED]

- [REDACTED]

- Big Black [CENSORED]

- Edgelord McGee

- Golden Boy

- Purple Pansy

- The Black Knight

- Boss

- Chief

expand list...

Height: 1.88m

Weight: 74 kg

Species: Faunus (Lion)

Traits: Black hair, Purple eyes, Claws

Status:

- Trainee Paladin (Squire, 1st year)

- Major (Upon graduation, on account of previous service and training)

- [REDACTED]

- [REDACTED]

Semblance: Obedience

Weapons:

- Oath (hand-and-a-half [bastard] sword/ rifle hybrid)

- Length: 1.2m (Blade form), 0.8m (AR form), 1.0m (DMR form)

- Caliber: 5.56mm

- Gravity dust-assisted propulsion

- Aura locked

- Treachery (dust dagger/ longsword hybrid)

- Length: 0.7m (Dagger form), 1.0m (Blade form)

- Dust loadout: Fire, Lightning, Ice, Stone, Gravity

- Aura locked

- Oathbreaker [REDACTED] [REDACTED]

- [REDACTED]

- [REDACTED]

- Aura locked

Certifications:

- High School Diploma

- Squire's Bond

- Marksman

- Knights' Vow

- Droptrooper wings

- Officer's Commission

- Tropical Survival

- Desert Survival

- Forest Survival

- Tundra Survival

- Fitness Gold

- Class 3 Driving

- Class 2 Driving

expand list...

Psychoanalysis:

Lelouch is a confident individual who leads his team capably. Taking charge from the front, he is rarely ever outside of conflict when his brothers-in-arms are. Unfortunately, his experiences in the Nihon Crisis have left him deeply scarred, imbuing him with a relentless and sometimes self-destructive tendency to keep fighting. Thankfully, he has friends and family to support him. Without them, I fear that he may stray too far. But barring his personal damage, he thinks the world of those precious to him and would place himself in harm's way if they could not defend themselves. Truly, a model student and an exemplary Paladin-aspirant.

Evaluated By,

Ruben K Ashford

Translations:

"Shit!" = kuso

"Nice to meet you." = enchanté

"My friend" = mon ami

"Is eveyrhting ready?" = Est-ce que tout est prêt?

"Yeah. We are good to go." = Ouais. On est bon d'aller.

Wassup? Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Again, a reminder to vote on the poll in my profile if you haven't already. Lmk what you liked or what you disliked. Criticism is welcome! (Just don't be toxic, be courteous) Also flag any glaring grammar or spelling mistake I may have made.

Till next time!