Heyo! we're back. In case you're wondering, no, the break wasn't all that restful. In fact, I haven't had a good night's sleep in nearly three weeks. But, that's neither here, nor there, and you don't want to hear about my personal problems. So, on with the story! Let's check in with everybody's favorite stalker!

Wait... no. That's Sun.

When winter struck in Atlas, it did so with a vengeance. Soon after arriving, Adam had remembered another of the myriad reasons he left. Snow, propelled by torrential wind, pelted his masked face. Through his hood, he felt droplets of water melt through to his scalp. A shiver ran over his form, matching that of his subordinates who were stationed nearby. The cold was a fierce and deadly foe, but he stood firm against it, nonetheless.

His companions, on the other hand, were keener to huddle together or curl up in balls to save body heat. While he could almost commiserate, their purpose in the blizzard-ridden tundra outside Mantle was not to be comfortable. If they wanted to keep warm, they shouldn't have volunteered to join him.

The reason Adam was stuck out in the middle of nowhere, far from any sign of civilization, was quite simple if a little dull. They were awaiting a supply convoy, bound for one of Atlas' many outposts in the wilderness. Trucks loaded down with food, medicine, and other amenities would be passing through the area soon. And, while it seemed to be a downgrade from Adam's usual missions within the White Fang, it was necessary for the relatively small and weak Mantle cell.

"Adam!" one of the Fang scouts called out, waving him over to her.

Silently, Adam padded up the slight hill, crouching down once he reached the top to better hide his profile. He had abandoned his typical black attire in favor of a mix of white and grey, given the environment, as had all the members of the White Fang in Atlas.

"Sir," the faunus nodded as he kneeled next to her. "There's a pretty big heat signature coming this way." She handed him a pair of infrared binoculars and pointed in the direction she meant. Sure enough, looking through revealed a large mass of orange and green against an otherwise black background.

He had chosen their ambush location correctly. Around them, the terrain was virtually indistinguishable from other areas. So much so, that, if not for their scrolls' tracking abilities, even Adam feared they would become lost. However, Atlas had gotten complacent in the lack of White Fang attacks as of late and had been using the same route to transport supplies for weeks. As such, there was a rather obvious path packed into the snowy planes.

Adam had positioned his raiding party at both mouths of a narrow valley between two hills of snow. It was nothing their targets couldn't escape, given a chance. No,

"Right on time, he whispered. Handing the goggles back to the woman, Adam backed down the slope. "Good work. Keep them in your sights and be ready to move. I'll muster the others."

"Right."

Only one or two of the Fang acknowledged him when he approached the group. Even then, it was just a nod or whisper of his name. The rest of them barely looked his way as they stayed huddled up against the sheer winds.

"The convoy's here," Adam told them quietly. "On your feet." His latter command was given with more venom. Causing them to stumble and fall over each other for fear of earning his ire.

Several guns leveled on the path, weapons were drawn and readied. Muscles flexed, preparing for heated battle in the blistering cold. Wilt hissed as Adam slowly unsheathed it. A thin veil of steam rose from the crimson blade as snow clashed with the infused fire dust. The roar of engines grew closer. The ground beneath Adam's feet shook as the caravan inched onward, blissfully unaware of the trap they were strolling into.

A shiver ran up Adam's spine. Not from the cold, but anticipation. It had been months since he'd seen any real combat. Not since the attack that he'd led on Beacon academy. It felt good to be in the field once more. Even though this was most certainly not going to be anywhere near as satisfying as that had been.

It would have to do.

Two soldiers, clad in white Atlas uniforms, emerged from the valley's mouth. Wholly ignorant of their surroundings, they idly chattered between themselves. While ho could not make out their words over the roar of the trucks, Adam noted the way they moved. Laid back, lackadaisical, they could have cared less about their duties while on point. The commander in him sneered; they were a disgrace. However, it was the revolutionary that smiled on the outside. The lack of concern only served to make his job more manageable.

Adam glanced to his side. A young faunus stared back with determination in his eyes. In his hand, he clutched a small, unassuming remote.

A detonator.

With a curt nod, he signaled for him to activate it.

In seconds, with the simple press of a button, several explosives buried around the path discharged. Snow, ice, and fire shot through the air in equal measure. The two soldiers up front, who had been mere feet from one, were propelled back - one of them in pieces. Screams from various other unfortunates echoed around Adam. Gore and rubble rained down over the hill.

Wild battle cries tore from his companions' throats as they charged forward, weapons primed. Gunshots from both sides sounded - nearly every crack was followed by a shriek of pain and a muffled thud. People were dying fast. The commander of Atlas forces barked out orders to his underlings. He called for them to hold fast and stay in line.

A satisfied smirk tugged at Adam's lips. It was good to be taking the fight to the real enemy once more.

The White Fang veteran stood on the hilltop, looking down over the carnage - for it was just that. The soldiers were caught off guard and disoriented. They fumbled with their weapons, only to be rushed and cut down by the faunus. Blood spilled from bodies living and dead, causing the once virgin-white snow to run red.

This was how things should be. The faunus slaughtering humans that dared to oppress them. Revenge for thousands of years of murder, rape, slavery, and all the other putrid things that his ancestors were forced to endure at the hands of humanity.

Adam's fingers tightened around Wilt, so much so that his knuckles were white beneath his gloves. With a deep breath, he stepped onto the field of battle.

For the faunus.

Short chapter is short. Shit's gonna be kicking off next time, though. Don't you worry your pretty little head.