Within the northern regions of the Mistral kingdom's borders, an ongoing, albeit silent, war rages between the Atlesian Military and the White Fang insurgents. With the rise in Fang recruits and the kingdom of Mistral's forces spread thin as it is in peacetime, a collaboration between the two kingdoms resulted in a heated conflict, spanning most of northern Anima. With the tension between the two species, more often than not; skirmishes tend to lead to absolute victory for one side, the victory going primarily for the more technologically advanced kingdom. And yet, for all their progress and wisdom, it would inevitably lead to hubris. And from hubris, a split forms at the base of their tower; small, baring no reason for worry or correction. But soon that sense of comfort leads to a false sense of security; that split warrants neither devotions nor attention with other pressing matters, such as building the tower grander.

But then, the split grows, they always do, it's an inevitability. And when it does, from it grows more cracks, spreading to different sections, spanning across the entirety of the lower base of the tower. One would assume those that built the tower would tend to it, to every section of its creation to make certain their legacy would stand tall for years to come.

Not Atlas, their eyes are always facing upwards, constantly imagining how much higher they can build, rarely ever does anyone bat an eye down. Those that do, those that see the cracks, who foresee the inevitable are often labeled radicals and extremists, marring the image of their future with doubt and unfounded fear.

And so they continue upwards, the weight of their unchecked hubris feeding the growth of the weakening foundation until the day it happens.

When it falls, and it rest assured, it will; all their splendor and glory will crumble into equality. The lavish and new upper tower will be indistinctive from the forgotten and ruined lower tower.

The problems of the downtrodden will be felt by those who once sneered and chose to ignore. No one will be able to ignore it, none will escape it. But all will understand each other's pain; the shattered stone will finally see the truth.

Yet, it never seems to be enough. For when the new tower rises from the ashes, old anguish, ancient squabbles will reemerge; inequality and death will repeat in an endless cycle. What stone needs is one single act, a singular moment that will resonate and send a clear message that will finally make the creators understand both themselves, and their towers.

And to think; it all started from one small split.

Can it be done? Maybe, Maybe not.

Though, it is an endeavor worth venturing, wouldn't you agree…

Emerald?

"Hey, Em, wake up."

With a quick jolt, Emerald's head sprung up, glancing every which way with widened eyes as she realized she'd dozed off and that she might've missed her signal. Though, when she felt a hand gripping her shoulder, and her masked partner placing a finger to where his lips would be, the minty-haired teen snapped from her mild hysteria and allowed herself to breath. Though, she did snarl at the nickname her partner just suddenly decided to give her. She quickly removed herself from his grasp as she lowered herself back in the shrubs she'd been hiding in.

Their 'borrowed' attire were winter styled Atlesian military garbs, stolen by the crimson-eyed illusionists, and with her leader giving but a simple praise at her efficiency and ability; she was content. And the mission he gave her was not outside of her capability; wait outside an Atlesian outpost, laying low until her leader and Ilia gave the signal for her to regroup and join in on the infiltration…

However…

Her eyes peered to the side, catching a glimpse of her partner with his head facing the base. Much to her chagrin, her leader had grouped her up with their recent addition; Mercury. And while his attitude and incentive to disobey or misinterpret their leader's orders for his own amusement was getting on her last nerve. Three months since the boy had joined them, and she by no means had grown fond of the boy. Yet, she couldn't ignore his efficiency; with the customized prosthetics gifted to him by their leader, and being able to go toe to toe with some of the higher ranking officials without his semblance was indeed a feat worth praising.

With all that in mind, it came as quite the shock when Emerald realized his laid back attitude and unwillingness to stick fully to their missions; it was taxing the minty-haired girl's patience.

"It's almost time." Though, if anything, his ability to put away his usual attitude for the sake of an assignment was a redeeming feature she could vaguely jot down to his aid.

Taking a moment to glance at her scroll, Emerald realized their leader's signal would come within the next minute. And when it did, the two were to head into the outpost and join their leader for the raid. She readied her weapons, shifting herself in place so that she'd be able to make a quick tread to their team's aid. Mercury remained laying down, his eyes wandering, as if searching every inch of the base for something.

"What are we looking at?" Her question was quick, and to the point, Mercury's was not so.

The silver-haired teen peered through a set of binoculars and called off, quietly, what he could see. "Three lovely snipers perched on opposite ends of the base; two near the command building, and the other at the airfield. The ever punctual patrol team consisting of two armored ATTs with mounted turrets, and around a dozen guards on foot….huh, they're actually not in formation. C'mon guys, I'm disappointed." He half-heartedly pouted.

Emerald growled lightly; the ATTs were an issue, yes, but the amount of guards at this outpost was far more in numbers than for a simple scouting base. It made infiltration all the more difficult, and dangerous. Whatever signal came their way, she at least hoped it would be a subtle and quiet one.

"Gotta give Atlas one thing, their tanks are fucking impressive." Emerald's eyes widened, her eyes snapped to the airbase, and sure enough, from one of the cargo ship's ramps was a descending armored vehicle made for the exclusive purpose of tearing apart infantry and buildings with ease. "I think those are the mark IIIs…heard those are supposed to be unmanned; no room for human error." He snorted at the notion. "Hope the boss has a plan for those. 'Cause if not, we're fucked."

If he could see Emerald's face; it was a mix of annoyance and a small tinge of uncertainty. "Ilia and Jaune will think of something, they wouldn't continue the mission if there wasn't a plan for this sort of thing. Don't forget, a storm is approaching; even the military's sensors can't pierce through the storm. It'll mask our escape." The reassurance was less for him, and more to put herself at ease.

Mercury simply shrugged and went back to eyeing the base. "Ten lien says they blow the something up."

"…" She said nothing at first. "Ten says they'll burn the hangers." Normally, she'd never take on a bet with Mercury, or anyone for that matter. Though, to make time fly just a little faster; she'd partake. Speaking of…

Glancing back at her scroll, the time was well past their intended synch, and it sprout a small seed of fear in the girl's mind as she felt the weight if time come down on her, agonizing her by forcing time to slow as she waiting for a sign; anything.

"Nahkriin. Sahvot."

Mercury and Emerald's fingers pressed to their headsets at the sound of their codenames respectively.

"Change of plans, we're going loud."

There was only a moment of pause before a resonating boom echoed in the tundra. From the airfield, from what they could see the fueling station had been rigged, as was the underside of the cargo ships. The smoldering heap collapsed unto the few tanks, and nearly crushing soldiers unlucky enough to be beneath them. They had managed to jump out of the way just in time, only to quickly realize they were under attack. They drew their weapons, aiming in every direction, searching for a target. The hangars nearby were struck with debris and were quick to catch aflame as well. The entirety of the airfield was ablaze, the siren following not too long after echoed throughout the valley. Guards from all corners of the outpost rushed towards the airfield. All but two figures emerging from the main hub, both cloaked in winter camouflage and bearing similar masks to them; their teammates were making their move.

"Damn, now if that ain't a signal." Mercury muttered, rising up from his place in the shrubs. "Looks like everyone's a winner." He quickly removed a patch of bushel to reveal a dust ski, standard issue for Atlesian reconnaissance, perfectly coated to blend in with the tundra. The two mounted the vehicle, Emerald disgruntled with having to wrap her arms around Mercury's waist. She kept her weapon at the ready, her impatience only grew with every second her partner remained idle, not even bothering to turn on their ride. Though, before she had a chance to nudge him to get in motion, the wind started to pick up, her head turned to face behind her; the storm arrived in the best moment one could ask for. Well, except for the Atlesians.

Just as the winds began to pick up to greater speeds, Mercury turned on their ride, speeding just as the storm hit their position. One of the positives with this skiv; it's agile and silent, able to pick up enough speed just as the storm was slowly creeping over them. The sight of the base straight ahead of them grew larger; her grip increased as she could hear the distinctive yells and continuous explosions from the ever expanding fire.

"Sahvot."

Emerald pressed a finger to her earpiece, signaling she heard the call. It seemed that Ilia was now taking comms, something must be occupying their leader's attention.

"Package has been acquired, but our skiv is compromised; you and Nahkriin need to find us another way off base. We have ten minutes before they realize what we've taken. Meet up at the rendezvous point in less than five."

"Understood, ma'am." She replied, gripping tighter once again as the skiv changed trajectory. Now, rather than heading towards their initial rendezvous point, their skiv was now on track towards the scorching airfield. "The hell do you think you're doing?" She snarled, realizing they were approaching the epicenter of the chaos.

"Getting us a ride."

"On a tank?"

Mercury's laugh was only heard through their comms, though; it wasn't his usual snarky or sass-filled tone. "I wish, but no. Too slow."

"Then what? A jeep?"

"Better."

That was all the indication she would get, as the view of the airfield cleared ever so, she noticed the far end of the airfield with an open hangar, still untouched by the flames. It didn't take her long to guess what her partner was aiming for, which only served to bring her encroaching fears to the surface.

"You can't be serious?!" She screeched, her gun now cocked and aimed at any grunt she could see in the storm.

He didn't respond vocally, Mercury only sped up their skiv, making a quick tread around the scorching ruins and confused infantry. With their skiv, and the masking snowstorm around, they were able to blend in with the chaos as scouts returning from patrol, just as confused and dazed by the explosions that took out most of the outpost's air force.

-Meanwhile-

As the storm finally hit the outpost, Jaune and Ilia managed to find shelter in a medical ward, which for the most part was only manned by three guards and a few medical staff; all of them easy to take out. A little nap never harmed anyone, though; it was an easy assumption that this place was going to be busy once the injured started pouring in. For Jaune and Ilia, escaping was intended to be through skivs they'd 'acquired' from another outpost not far from here. However, after acquiring their intended package, their skiv had been discovered, and no doubt the grunts had enough brain cells to inform their commanding officer of an extra skiv in their supposedly unmarked outpost.

The two were huddled against a small opening near a furnace; Ilia's attention was focused on her scroll, peering through the data recovered from the outpost's archives. Her eyes only wandering from time to time to her partner, who was using his dolls to act as surveillance; clinging to the ceilings.

Their mission was supposed to be simple, infiltrate the base, recover the required data, and leave. All it took was one patrol deciding to cut their rounds early by crossing a path rarely used and stumbling upon the skiv. Hearing the report of an abandoned skiv just outside the base was enough to shut down their entire operation. Realizing they were about to be caught, they triggered the explosives, direction the attention of the Atlesians away from them, but it also placed the outpost on high alert. Still, all eyes were on the airfield, and thanks to the storm; communications between this base and any support nearby was going to be just a tad late. Though, they knew for damn sure the server hub had already alerted command of their intrusion. Their area was going to be swarming with Atlesians once the storm passed.

"Is it there?" Her eyes peeked over to her partner, his eyes were closed, the clanking of his dolls echoed in the silent ward.

Ilia continued surveying the files until a single image popped up on her screen. She pursed her lips as she shut the scroll off. "Yea…and you were right." She spat out, taking a small gold coin from her pocket and flipping it his way.

"Don't sound so excited." He teased, catching the coin as his eyes opened again. He rose up, his dolls were quickly at his side once more, in hand were maps and shattered fragments of whatever security cameras they encountered. The blond took one of the parchments and extended it over a nearby table. Ilia following close behind as she eyed the highlighted red ink marking several locations. "Atlas has been busy, I'm pretty sure Mistral isn't aware of these 'off-the-record' outposts. And from the looks of it, their main goal isn't just to target Fang bases within the surrounding areas." He commented, slightly impressed by all the marked off Fang outposts the kingdoms were able to wipe out. For Ilia, it was a strange feeling in her gut that forced her to accept the reality of her situation; though she no longer was a part of the Fang, she still sympathized with a select few; she knew their reasoning for resorting to the Fang's ideologies. But knowing what she knew now, she wouldn't go as far as to justify their actions; they were terrorists, and she left just as things started to vamp up to cult levels of fanaticism.

"There's no mention of prisoners being taken either…" She replied, her hand caressing the hilt of her weapon, a gift given to her by her partner as a means to protect herself. She'd been using it far more than she thought she would, and much of it was in the name of her partner's goal. Which, although she still had a few issues with, did not deter her from being at his side. Though, she wouldn't deny the uneasy sight of Emerald warming up to his views, seeing the 'logic' in his reasoning, and even going as far as to completing her missions with such a expecting expression afterwards; like a child handing their parents a report card and vying for some form of reaction or validation.

And, much to her amusement, Emerald on recent occasions had been trying to ease her way into accompanying the blond on missions. It was a small entertainment to watch, though, she felt a slight pang in her chest when the blond did indulge her little pleads.

That being said, Mercury was not too far off; the boy often tested the waters of the blond's patience, but never to go as far as to warrant any physical action. Still, with the flow of lien and food being a constant, Ilia had no doubts the silver-haired edge-lord would stick around for a good while.

"Vahlok?" She was snapped from her daze as she gazed back to her friend, the two masked teens stared at one another before Jaune gestured to the map. "You ok?"

"…? Sorry, I tuned out for a second." She admitted, receiving a whispered sigh from Jaune.

"Stay focused, Nahkriin and Sahvot will be completing their goal shortly, hopefully with something that has heating." He muttered, Summer hovered slightly over him, shrouded in her own camouflaged clothing. Ilia felt the need to question the necessity for the near-haunted object needing any form of clothing. Though, she could almost hear him talking some nonsense of shielding her from the elements.

Still, she wouldn't complain, Summer and the other doll were able to act as reconnaissance, hiding in places many wouldn't think twice to give a second thought to.

The second doll came back in haste, Jaune's body language shifted, his head turned halfway towards the door. The muffled sounds of yelling and bodies pushing through the snow grew as the soldiers approached the medical ward. Without hesitation, the two teens sprang into action, diving for cover wherever they could find, shutting the door just as the ward's entrance slammed open. Seven guards poured in, collapsing unto the floors and shivering even when the doors shut behind them.

"The hell is going on out there!?" One shouted, rubbing at his arms and legs fiercely in attempt to warm up. "Everything's up in flames, comms are down, and everyone is running around like chickens with their heads cut off."

"Has command responded to our beacons?" Another soldier on the floor asked, slightly shivering but still able to form a sentence without a stutter.

The guard that shut the door, the commanding officer, judging by the bars on his shoulder, was quick to help his soldiers to their feet and to a nearby cot. "Not likely, the storm is messing with our equipment; our beacon won't reach the nearest base until the storm passes."

One soldier approached his comrades with blankets. "No one knows what's going on, not even Commander Siv, and she's-" The soldier was cut off by their leader

Their leader's eyes analyzed the entrance thoroughly, glancing around just before his head turned halfway towards his team. "Where's Doctor Diaz?" The soliders glanced to one another before their training kicked in, springing to their feet with weapons drawn.

Though, before any of the mean could advance, one of the soldiers nudged his leader, gesturing to a doll laying idly on the table in the center of the room. Beside it were what appeared to be a pair of spectacles belonging to a familiar medical officer.

"Oh no…" One of the soldiers muttered, aiming his rifle directly at the doll, shivering uncontrollably at the sight of the idle toy. Just the sight of the seemingly lifeless husk sent a plethora of unnerving shivers up the soldier's spine.

Though, his commanding officer was quick to lower the man's weapon. "Easy, Donovan, it's just a toy, probably Diaz's."

"That ain't not toy sir..." Donovan mumbled, his rifle attempting to rise once more, only to be stopped by his CO.

"Chill Donny, the fucks got you so scared of a doll?" One of the soldiers walked over and picked up the doll, eyeing it every which way before taunting his comrade by faking to toss it his way. The grunt flinched, backing away as he felt his commander's grip yanking at his firearm to keep him from turning tail. "Geez man, don't puss out on us now. It's just a fucking doll, it can't hurt anyone, isn't that right?" He asked the toy with pouting lips and a childish tone one would use when speaking to an infant.

"I…won't…"

"See, totally harm…" The silence that followed would forever haunt the dreams of the men in that room. Their heads, almost robotically, turned to the source of the response; the doll, still limping lifelessly in the hands of the grunt that picked her up. The soldier was frozen, unable to say or do anything but tremble at the fact that he received a response.

The doll's head turned slowly, further causing the soldier to shiver as he found himself unable to throw away the toy, eyeing it with widened eyes at its lifeless orbs stared directly at his. Its hand reached upwards, pointing to the ceiling.

"He…might…"

And with that little revelation the soldiers hesitantly glanced upwards, their eyes locking onto the sight above them; a ragged doll clinging to the ceiling like a spider, it moved slowly, clanking wood echoed the silent ward as it stopped just in the center of the group. Its head detached, falling just a few feet before stopping; levitating above the ground with its mouth wide open.

Without warning, the head spun, releasing a pummel of smoke that engulfed the guards without fail. It was only then that the soldiers found themselves able to move from their frightened state; Donovan had attempted to flee the building, only to slam against the door and slump to the ground unceremoniously. The rest of the group followed, each succumbing to whatever they had inhaled, all except the CO, who managed to stay awake just long enough to see two masked individuals emerge from their hiding positions, taking a brief glance at the soldiers, and then leaving. It didn't take long until he passed out as well, allowing silence to prevail once more in the medical ward.

"That was a bit much, don't you think?" Ilia asked with her finger pressed against the comm device on her ear, Summer had floated up and settled herself on Jaune's back, as did the second doll he brought along. The two were outside the medical ward, realizing the storm was still raging, but remembering their rendezvous wouldn't be empty for long. "Keep in mind these tactics are gonna get old fast, you gotta think up new ways to get the job done." She knew how that sounded, but then, it wouldn't have caught his attention if she had worded it any other way.

"I know, I have several ideas already in the works." The two were moving with just as much visibility as the storm would allow. The outpost was not just in disarray, but coupling in with the fact that the fuel was a literal beacon in the storm said quite a bit about what exactly their intentions were considering this was beginning to appear more as a refueling station rather than an outpost. "Let's keep moving." There was no response, only the blaring siren still blasting loudly as the fires raged on.

As they made treads southward, the sounds of barking and orders echoing in the midst of the storm grew louder with each tread they made. A single glance behind showed the silhouettes of soldiers rushing in the storm, though, the way the lights from what they assumed to be flashlights indicated their men were unaware of where they were going.

Realizing this, the pair continued their tread just as they reached a forest, in the nick of time too as the storm was beginning to let up, visage become clearer as a few guards spotted the two diving into the forest.

The flash storm, a sudden blanket of harsh winds and snow that struck the terrain every so often on loop. So much so that it became easy to predict its movements, allowing it to be tracked and predicted to avoid unnecessary incidents. A storm that last ten minutes would most certainly not be an anomaly, but one that hits an outpost just as a chain of explosions go off was sure to raise many red flags, and the valley was going to be flooded with Atlesian military soon, now that their communications were coming back to them.

"Guess that forecaster was right, for once." Ilia commented, running alongside her friend as they made their way southwards towards their meeting place. "You think those two had enough time to secure a ride?"

"We'll see." Jaune muttered, his voice strained what with having to carry two dolls and running through mounds of snow. "For now, just keep-"

His words were cut off as three airships flew overhead, one departed westward, one east, the other remained on course; south.

"It's headed for the rendezvous point." Ilia seethed, the worst thought came to mind as she dreaded having to see her teammates bound and bloodied after being caught by the Atlesians.

A flame burned in Jaune's eyes as his speed increased. "Then be ready for a fight." He growled.

The two were making tracks towards their meet up point, seeing the airship slow down and descend right where they were agreed to head towards. A sinking fear scrapped at the walls of the blond's heart as he expected to see a sight similar to Ilia's once the ramparts came down.

They stopped just near the edge of the clearing, their eyes focused on the lowering ramp. Neither had a long range weapon to retaliate with, however, at the distance they were at, there was no way they'd risk possibly hurting one of their own. And so, they waited with baited breath as the airship landed, and its engines powered down. The ramp came down, painfully slow as a single soldier walked out, a rifle in hand, waving at where the two were hiding.

"Hey, you coming or what?!" Ilia felt her eye consistently twitching, while Jaune released a sigh he didn't realize he'd been holding in. "Hello?!" He started waving his arms at them like an impatient child, forcing a low snarl from Ilia.

A second skiv? A good choice, they'd be able to silently escape within the thickets, so long as they made their way through familiar terrain. A jeep? A better option, plenty room, and enough fuel to make their escape trail further, it helped that Mercury knew how to drive, ironically. But…

"AN AIRSHIP?!" Ilia almost hollered, though the anger in her tone was still apparent as she and Jaune emerged from the thickets.

"I know right, Em said the same thing." Mercury laughed out.

"So much for a silent escape." Jaune mumbled, his eyes fixed on the pilot's bulkhead, seeing Emerald wave sheepishly through the window. "Didn't know either of you could fly this thing."

"We can't." He replied with a coy smirk, gesturing to the open cockpit; Emerald sat in the copilot seat with a rifle aimed at the head of the current pilot; a cadet, no older than the lot of them, with only a name tag to identify who she was; Soleil. "But she can."

-Atlas-

Often enough there are no words to truly describe how one feels, sentiments that goes far beyond simple descriptions; such as anger and disappointment. And to date, there are no few words that could sum up the pain in a mother's heart from losing their young ones. It is a piercing jab, though not fatal, is by far the closest emotional toll to carry. She had it all planned out; by the end of the month her son would be sent to Patch, raised by the very much responsible mother that had adopted him, and lived a life that would've had great opportunities opened up to him once a certain figure head was removed from his place atop their family hierarchy. Now? Winter is left with nothing more than a small burnt doll scavenged from the wreckage of her son's home, and brought to her by a face she now held unbridled rage for. One favor was all that was asked of him; and he failed miserably.

Currently, the specialist sat quietly in her quarters, reeling in the information given to her by the still present nuisance. She demanded every detail, every name, and mostly importantly; the murderer. It did not surprise her at all to discover who was behind the attack, but the accomplice of said killer was what stung the hardest; to think her little one would be betrayed by the vey person he called his sister. Winter could not fathom what was going through Blake's head when she agreed to the mission, nor did she care to know. All she knew now was that she wanted Taurus' head, not for execution. No, she would hand delver unto him whatever fate she could muster to make the damned bastard crave death. And even after all was said and done, she was in no way going to give him that satisfaction.

But therein lay an issue; he was exiled from Menagerie. And given his prominence in the White Fang; his leaders were sure to have sent him to oversee one of their branches in the nearby kingdoms.

"Specialist Schnee." A muffled voice called from the other side of her door. Reluctant to ask of anything more from the drunkard, she chose instead to answer the door herself. Though, upon opening, she was met with a face she did not expect to see at this time of day. Beside an irrelevant grunt was her younger sister, looking as prim and proper as she was brought up to be. The soldier quickly stood at attention. "Pardon the intrusion, ma'am. I was ordered to escort Ms. Schnee to your quarters." With a nod and wave of dismissal, the soldier saluted once more before turning to walk away, leaving Winter with her sister.

"Hello, Winter. It's good to see you again."

"Weiss, I was not aware you were coming for a visit, had I known I would've excused any unwanted eyesores before so." Her eyes narrowed at the drunkard sitting calmly near the window, shrugging at her description of him. "However, now is not a good time."

The young heiress' expression showed visible dejection, she'd come all this way to see her sister, the least she had hoped for was a moment or two of her time. Though, a certain object caught her eye, a little burnt doll held tightly within the grasps of her older sister. A strange thing, she was not aware Winter had any such objects since becoming of age, much less one in such poor condition as this one.

Winter noticed her younger sibling eyeing her treasure with curiosity. Reacting on impulse, Winter walked over to her desk, arranged a spot for the doll and placed it comfortably beside a framed photo of her and her sister. The doll itself wasn't too damaged, the dress was slightly burnt, and most of the left arm was singed, but with a few touches here and there it would be good as new.

But she didn't want that. This was a fruit from the labor of her only child, working an honest life in his home, hiding away from persecution. And yet, even amongst those who would understand the feeling of alienation and displacement; he was shunned, betrayed, and murdered by hypocrites.

"Uhhh, ice queen?" Winter felt her fingers dance along the hilt of her weapon, hearing that accursed nickname was a part of their interactions she could do without. When turning to face her now unwelcomed guest, the first thing she noticed was a scroll in his hands, rewinding a clip he'd been watching. Without another word exchanged between the two, she took the scroll, her eyes seemingly bulged at the title of the video.

'Atlas to remove its military from Mistral territory following discovery of hidden outposts'

Hidden outposts? In Mistral? Winter was well aware of the joint kingdom task forces sent against the Fang operation bases hidden within the northern tundra of the Mistal Kingdom. However, while she had her suspicion, she was not aware of, or at least not informed, of hidden Atlesian bases. At first she expected this to be nothing more than an overblown misunderstanding; journalists seem to have a knack for making a fuss out of nothing. However, out of curiosity; she played the video.

'Our story tonight; relations between the kingdom of Atlas and Mistral sour as Atlesian forward operating bases were discovered in unmarked locations across northern Mistral. This revelation comes in light of recent attacks on several Atlesian and White Fang outposts by what the council is assuming to be highly trained operatives. According to the treaty, signed by Mistrali councilman Iduna and the former Atlesian General Midas; any and all foreign kingdom soldiers and equipment were to be reported, documented, and limited to a degree so as to keep the peace between the populace of the kingdoms. The discovery of these bases is in clear violation of the agreed upon treaty, and as of noon today, Mistral is demanding all Atlesian forces to depart from its territories. Images displayed on our screens were leaked by an unknown source, video footage shows the bases harboring and deploying more forces than originally allowed. However, after a recent attack, what we are showing is what is left of a one-sided skirmish.'

Images of destroyed tanks and Vtols came into view, along with the recently destroyed outpost with the flames from its fuel depot raging. The scurrying blurs on the ground show troopers still hard at work trying to contain the flames.

'The group many speculating is responsible for the attacks are a pair of masked individuals who have made it quite clear; though they look the part, they do not work for or with the White Fang.'

Blurred images of four distinctive masks were displayed beside the reporter, the masks were far from what one would associate with grimm, but rather, they felt something akin to a cultish nature. Their movements in the recorded files showed them moving with precision, eerily outstanding accuracy, and unorthodox methods in taking down their targets. Their malice was all the more evident in regards to how they attacked the Fang; brutally, and often with little to no mercy. With the Atlesians, there was evident disdain, but nothing compared to the Fang.

'Thankfully, there have been no reported deaths as of yet. However, in light of these events the Mistral government has come out with a statement; denying any involvement with the group locals in the area are referring to as; Red Dawn.

A single image forced Winter to stop the video, one that showed a soldier on their knees, being restrained by a wooden doll latched onto his back while blue strings emanated from the tips of one of the hooded individuals. A chill ran up her spine as her eyes remained firm on this unknown. She unconsciously hit play, watching as he flexed his fingers, controlling the doll and forcing the soldier to their feet. Without even giving a single glance at the grunt, the unknown snatched away a keycard from the soldier's waist before stabbing them with a needle. It took a few moments before the soldier's body slumped, falling into deep slumber. The hooded figure walked over to a terminal, turning their attention to face the camera; knowing full well his actions were caught on tape. What made the specialist's heart pace at an alarming rate was, not only the individual's ability to manipulate the doll and use of weaponry similar to someone she knew, but rather, it were the orbs of ocean blue and silver staring from the eye slits in the mask.

She was not the only one seeing this broadcast either, for within Vale, a certain silver-haired headmaster watches intently at the individuals causing havoc up north. Though, it was less of the actions of these individuals, this Red Dawn, that unnerved him, but rather; the one he saw controlling the dolls was unmistakably a Reaver, there was no question. However, what made this ordeal more troublesome was the silver-eye being thrown into play here. The power behind those who wielded such abilities was well known to the headmaster, but never did he think it would befall into the hands of a Reaver.

This was unprecedented, unacceptable; should she get her hands on this one; Remnant's demise would only be hastened. All of their work and sacrifice would truly have been for nothing. When Ironwood learned of this one's existence, no doubt his old friend would scour all of Mistral just to kill this one Reaver.

And knowing how the Valen council felt towards them, there nothing he could do either. Or was there…?

This chapter is a long time coming, the reason it took so long is a major writer's block and the inescapable amount of work I volunteered for. Now, I wrote this as a way to Segway back into the story, as I was eerily close to moving on. Thing is, I have a set mind on how I want this story to play out and end, but I don't want to skim right through without having some small moments of filler and fun for the cast before the weight of the plot hits them like a freight.

I've also taken the free time I had to ponder what I want this Jaune to be, and how the others around him react and interact…and I've decided how I'm gonna write him. After careful consideration, I've had the set path the blond will follow, and how the others around him will end their stories as well. I'm sorry to have kept you all waiting, I will try to keep up with updates, I thank you who've chosen to stay with the story.

Also, extra points for anyone who can guess the meaning behind the alias I chose for Jaune's little band of misfits.