So, it's a day early again. I won't have time to do it tomorrow, so you guys are getting it today.

Also, I don't know if I've done this before, but I need to put in a note for what Connie's gun is. It's an Mk 47 Maverick from Destiny. I like the gun designs in that game, what can I say?

Enjoy.

The cafeteria was loud, echoing with the laughs and chatter of Huntsmen and Huntresses in training. To them, the day was peaceful, the outlandish workload and nigh-sadistic teachers aside. However, to the group of eight, time seemed to have stopped. Neither Team RWBY or JNPR made a sound, all staring at Blake with varying amounts of shock and confusion.

"Wait, what?" Yang asked, her face scrunched in confusion. "'Suicidal meatshields?' The hell does that mean?"

"It means exactly what it sounds like, Xiao Long," Weiss said, her eyes boring into the blonde. "Ironwood is a co-op facility, they train Hunters as well as Armor pilots. However, instead of simply educating them, the teachers also pound something else into their heads."

"Er… like what?"

"That they're expendable."

At this, a cold, hollow feeling formed in Yang's stomach. She was silent, a horrified expression on her face. "Th-that's gotta be a joke. You're joking, right Weissy?" she pleaded, her voice shaky.

Ruby shivered, feeling ill as a sickly pallor came over her. "I-I think I'm gonna leave. Later, guys," she said in a blur, and in a flash of rose petals vanished from the cafeteria.

Weiss didn't even notice her partner's absence. She stared Yang in the eye with no trace of humor to be found. "Am I Yang? With everything focused on Huntsmen and Huntresses, there are only two facilities on Remnant that train Armor pilots, and only one of those has enough of a reputation to be globally recognized. Those soldiers piloting the Bullheads? They came from Ironwood. Those protecting Vale's walls? Ironwood."

It was then that Pyrrha finally gathered enough of herself to cut in, though she was still green as she said, "Ironwood Academy produces so many successful Armor pilots because they are ingrained with the fact that they aren't as important as Hunters."

Yang stood from her seat and slammed her fists into the table. "Not as important?" she snarled, "These are human lives we're talking about, and they're not as important?!"

"From a perfectly logical standpoint," Weiss said, "they aren't. It takes – on average – two to five years to train a soldier or an Armor pilot. It takes a lifetime for a Hunter to accumulate enough experience to be successful. The amount of effort it takes to train a soldier is much less than that to train a Hunter. They protect the cities in our stead so that us Hunters don't have to be on call every second of our lives, plus they protect us until we can do our part in pushing back the Grimm."

Yang fell back in her seat, completely gobsmacked. "So, what, they just throw their lives away?"

"Yes," Blake said.

There was a betrayed look on Yang's face as she faced her partner.

"But more than that," Blake continued, "because of where Ironwood is, most soldiers and Armor pilots are Faunus. And this is Atlas we're talking about. They don't have a chance to do anything else before they're shipped off to the boot camps or the Dust mines."

She spat the last part, and aimed a heated glare at Weiss.

Weiss sent one right back as she snapped, "Hey, my family has been successful for over five generations. My father's company has… always worked in a moral grey area. It may be deplorable, but if that doesn't say something is working, then I don't know what does."

"I think it says that your family endorses, promotes, and runs on slavery."

With a growl, Weiss ran a hand over her face. "That-! That isn't the issue here. The issue is that walking time bomb."

Yang clenched her fists.

"So you go from calling her expendable to a time bomb?" Blake hissed, eyes narrowed.

Weiss snorted. "She's been trained specifically to be suicidal. You think that doesn't affect someone mentally? You think that since they're suddenly in an environment where they aren't exposed to that, they suddenly become better? The world doesn't work that way, and until she's out of here, she's a danger to us all."

At that, Yang shot from her seat, startling the two bickering teammates. "I think you two are missing the important issue here," she spat. "She's a person. You're making her out to be some kind of monster."

"And maybe she is!" Weiss shot back.

"Didn't you see the look on her face!? She was scared! She needs our help!" Yang shouted. By now her eyes had turned to a murderous red, blonde hair steaming, with half the cafeteria silent and watching the growing feud.

Pyrrha, who had been watching the arguing girls with concern, stood and raised her hands placatingly. "Look, this is getting heated. Why don't we take a moment and –"

"If you think she needs help then do what you want!" Weiss shouted, ignoring the Amazon, "But leave me out of it! I want nothing to do with that Faunus!"

"ARGH! You're such an Ice Queen!" Yang snarled, and then raced out of the cafeteria after her sister. Blake followed her, but not before leveling a vindictive glare at the heiress.

With only Jaune and Pyrrha left at the table, Weiss sighed as she settled back into her seat, ready to let her mind relax in the relative quiet of the cafeteria. She brought a piece of greenery to her mouth-

"So, Snow Angel, it's just the two of us," Jaune said, shattering the peace that had just begun to settle.

"No, it's just you," Weiss huffed as she got up and walked away, abandoning her 'lunch' altogether. Jaune groaned, barely comforted as Pyrrha rubbed his shoulder.

-O-O-O-

#1

Deep in the heart of the Beacon plateau, a frail mouse Faunus was probing his way through a certain tank. He was alone in the oil-stained, smokey garage, and was perfectly at ease with the half-dozen machines of war around him. The massive double-barreled turret of an M1D4-T languished in the corner, waiting for a hull. An Atlesian Robotics-made GAH-42BS was disassembled and piled against the wall. The tool bench, having nearly every tool imaginable, was piled high with those same tools piled in a haphazard mess. Bits and pieces of machines covered the floor, and not one machine was untouched or not being worked on.

Except for one. It was similar to a vulture – short, cannon-equipped arms tucked in close and hunched to the ground, giving the operator easy access, with legs attached to where the shoulders would be. It stood by itself among the chaos, its grey, brown, and black camouflage paint still shiny and pristine.

The mechanic cursed as he clunked his head against a pipe, pulling himself out of the turret ring. Uncaring of the turret suspended only by chains above his head, he swiped a grease-covered hand against his coveralls as he eyed a small, innocuous pump in his hand. Circular with pipes extruding from both ends, it seemed harmless; however, this one part could ruin the entire tank if it failed.

He frowned as he looked inside one of the tubes, and gasped at how the grinding mechanism resembled little more than shredded steel with bits of a blue Dust crystal thrown in. Tossing the pump aside he dived back into the tank, pushing wires and tubes aside as he pulled himself through the crawlspace. Only his feet poked out of the machine when he brushed past the final pipe and reached the heart of the tank, a bulbous, basketball-sized Dust reactor that was connected to every single part of the machine by bolted-down tubes, hoses and wires. He came closer to it and fingered the port where he had removed the pump – while he had sealed it beforehand, preventing the reactor from bathing him in lethal Dust radiation, he was more interested in the port itself.

His fears were confirmed when he found an ugly crack at the edge of the port, threatening to spread further into the reactor.

"Oh dear," he muttered, and whispered an apology to whoever owned the tank called Grendel.

-O-O-O-

Connie let herself be pushed along by the rush of students, not paying attention to where she was going or even where she put her feet. Ignoring the bronze-haired boy when he shoved by her, she let her thoughts wander back to the cafeteria. When Ruby had brought up her school, she had instantly been back in its drab, monochrome halls. It had been nearly three months since she left that hell, shouldn't she at least be able to separate herself from it? Shaking her head, Connie didn't notice as the crowds began to thin into classrooms, and soon enough she was alone as she slunk along Beacon's halls.

Lost in thought as she was, she didn't notice as she turned down a dim hallway with only an elevator at the end. However, there was also a guard clad in dull grey body armor and a full-faced helmet not unlike Connie's, though the protruding respirator was replaced with a mouth grille. Though his stance was relaxed there was no denying that his weapon – a compact, bullpup-style rifle – was certainly deadly.

He waited until she was about ten feet away from him before he commanded, "Halt."

Connie snapped out of her daze with a jolt, and then caught herself at the sight of the man's armor. Her eyes hardened at the sight of the insignia on his left shoulder, then snapped her arm up in a three-fingered salute with her thumb, fore-and middle finger as she said, "Guardsman."

The man's helmet tilted to the side as if surprised before he gave a salute of his own and a short, six note whistle.

Connie bit back the trill that wanted to roll off her tongue. "Olly olly oxen free, all out in the free."

"We're all free," the man finished.

The man relaxed and propped his weapon against his shoulder. "Didn't expect to meet the Chosen One so soon, to be honest," he said, his tone light and with no small amount of sarcasm. He extended a hand and said, "Guardsman Hicks, 8th Infantry Battalion. Ironwood."

"Pilot Carlisle, 4th Armored Battalion. Ironwood," she responded, and took the man's hand. They shook briefly before stepping away, keeping a respectful distance as they met the other's eyes.

Without a word, Hicks pulled the magazine from his rifle and offered it to Connie butt first. Connie pulled her own weapon from under her skirt and cracked open the cylinder, pulling out the entire mechanism before offering the gun to the soldier. Wordlessly, they took the other's weapon and inspected it, looking for any signs of defect or wear, and only when they were both satisfied with the condition of the other's weapon they handed it back.

"It's good to see a friendly face," Connie said, snapping the cylinder back where it belonged.

Hicks nodded as he reloaded his rifle. "Yeah, same here. Though you probably have it worse off."

Connie tilted her head questioningly.

"I'm here at the elevator. You're with those brats all day," he said dismissively.

She stared at him with a blank expression.

"Anyway," the soldier continued, "This is the campus entrance to the VDF. I can't let you pass without authorization, I'm sure you understand."

Connie nodded curtly. "Understood. I would like to speak to your commanding officer, then."

As the two talked, they were unaware that they were being watched by a certain girl in a red hood. She peeked around the corner, straining to hear what they were saying. Originally, Ruby had meant to get to her next class early and have a few minutes to collect herself, but after seeing Connie shuffling her way through the hall she couldn't help but follow her. While eavesdropping wasn't something she normally did curiosity won over common sense, leaving her pressed against the wall like some kind of secret agent.

She giggled at the thought, imagining herself in a dapper tuxedo and a laser wristwatch.

"So. Whatcha doin'?"

Ruby squeaked, barely restraining herself from letting loose an all-out shriek at Yang's voice in her ear. She too was pressed against the wall and had a wide grin on her face, looking down at her sister and struggling to contain her mirth.

Though she gave a relieved sigh, Ruby still leveled the worst glare she could muster at her sister and whispered harshly, "Yang, don't scare me like that!"

"Aw, but how will I ever have any fun?"

"Yang!"

"Sorry, sorry," Yang said dismissively. She peeked around the corner above her sister as she asked, "So, what are you doing?"

Both of them received a shock when a voice behind them said, "It seems like your sister is spying on someone."

Blake was leaning casually against the wall, thumbing through a book as though this were an everyday occurrence.

"Whoa! When'd you get here?" Yang demanded, a hand pressed against her pounding heart.

"I've been here, you just never noticed," Blake said.

She didn't even look up at them.

Ruby blew her bangs from her face, her fingers tingly as she peeked back around the corner. She was puzzled when the two figures handed over their weapons and began inspecting them. "Wait, what?"

Looking closer, it took her a moment to recognize the insignia on the soldier's shoulder but once she did she muttered, "Oh…"

"Is that guy her friend or something?" Yang asked, confused.

"Um… I think it's more like comrades," Ruby said. "I read on how the army trains its troops, and from day one they're told that the guy next to you is more important than your life."

"So… the handing over the guns thing…"

Blake snapped her book closed. "People often overlook things when they're familiar with them. If you give something for someone else to look at, they'll see things you don't."

Ruby watched on as the pair spoke to each other. It was cold, clinical – sure, they were familiar with each other, but in a business sort of way. She frowned.

"It's kinda sad, actually…" Yang said. Ruby looked at her over her shoulder, an eyebrow raised. Even Blake looked at her partner with a questioning gaze. Yang looked to her sister. "I mean, she doesn't seem friendly with anyone… and it's not like you can really make friends in a place like Ironwood," she said. "I wouldn't be surprised if she's used to being alone."

"When someone's exposed to something for long enough, their mind becomes unable to do or think anything else," Blake explained again.

Silence came over them all.

Ruby suddenly grinned, and spun to face her teammates. "Guys! I just had a great idea!"

"Me too!" Yang said. "I'm gonna go get the firecrackers, meet me by the boy's bathroom!"

"No! No, not that!" Ruby said, frowning. "And I told you not to do that again!"

Blake eyed her partner. "Again?"

"Yup!" Yang said with an ever-widening grin. "I should tell you the story sometime, it was a blast."

"Yang…" Ruby groaned, and then gave up. "Anyway, I have a plan to help Connie. Get everyone to meet us in our dorm after class, I'll explain then."

Yang nodded. "Sure thing, sis. In the meantime…" she looked down at her watch, "in three, two, one… now we are officially late to class!"

Much to their dismay, or to Ruby and Blake's at least, the bell chose that moment to ring. Amid their panicked yells they sprinted off, desperate to get to class before the teacher did. If there was one thing worse than the ever self-appraising Professor Port's 'lectures,' it was his creative punishments for tardy students. To their credit, they burst into the room not even five seconds ahead of the teacher – his eyebrows raised at seeing them rush past, but he merely chuckled and said boisterously, "Wonderful, it's simply wonderful to see huntresses in training put so much effort into avoiding my wrath!"

Nearly everyone in the room let out a collective groan.

-O-O-O-

Connie looked up at the sound of the bell, frowning slightly before realizing what it meant.

"And now you're late," Hicks said reproachfully, though he tried his hardest to hide his grin. "How could you just stand there talking to me when you need to get back to the brats?"

His poor attempt at humor was lost on Connie, who stared at him as she flicked her ear.

"Anyway, go, before the teacher gets too mad. There's a few you don't want to leave waiting," Hicks advised.

Connie nodded. "Thank you," she said, before turning around and pulling the scroll from inside her jacket. She didn't wave back or notice Hicks say his own goodbye before she turned the corner, leaving him to stare, dumbfounded, at her back.

"What a weird Faunus," he said, and took off his helmet to rub his own dog ears. Unfortunately, being trapped beneath the helmet tended to make additional ears flakey – to anyone passing by, they would think that it had begun to snow.

Connie focused on the scroll in her hands, frowning as she tried to find the navigation app again. To be honest, she only found it the first time by accident. Damn, what I wouldn't give to use something I actually recognize, she thought to herself. Maybe this thing's compatible with the U-OS.

She kept tinkering with the device as she walked, not paying attention. It was no surprise when she suddenly shouldered right into someone, knocking the both of them off balance. Though she was deft enough to catch herself before she fell, the other wasn't so lucky and sprawled to the ground with a grunt and a curse.

"Watch where you're going! Wait – ah great, it's the animal."

Looking down at the derisive voice, Connie felt herself stiffen as none other than Cardin Winchester glared at her. He got to his feet, standing a head over her as he snarled, "I think you owe me something, animal."

Connie warily shifted her feet and blinked.

Her ear twitched.

"Owe you what?"

He suddenly snatched Connie by the front of her uniform and lifted her off her feet. Connie gasped and thrashed, trying to kick him, but was kept just out of reach of his gonads. Her fox yowled at the back of her mind, threatening to loose itself on the bully, but was just barely kept in check – still, Connie's eyes had a feral gleam to them as she snarled.

Cardin grinned evilly and pulled an arm back…

Connie saw a glint out of the corner of her eye, a sight that immediately calmed her raging instincts. "I wouldn't do that," she said, her voice once again calm and quiet.

Stopping himself mid-punch, if only to prolong the girl's suffering, Cardin sneered and asked, "And why would I not want to?"

"Because the walls have eyes," Connie muttered, and nodded to the mostly hidden camera over Cardin's shoulder. It was a clever spot too, hidden in a shadow, and Connie wouldn't have spotted it if weren't for Cardin shaking her like a ragdoll.

Looking over his shoulder, Cardin growled and roughly threw the girl away from him, forcing her to stagger to keep herself on her feet. He promptly spun on his heel and stomped away.

She would have gladly turned around and gotten away from him, except she was fairly sure that her next class, one she was already late to, was in the West Wing and this was the only hall leading there. Grudgingly, Connie followed after Cardin, though she lagged a good twenty feet behind him as she continued playing with her Scroll. Apparently this annoyed him more than she thought, as she didn't take five steps before he turned and snapped, "Stop following me like a damn dog."

"My class is somewhere this way," Connie deadpanned.

Cardin rolled his eyes, not saying anything further before he continued walking.

After getting lost in the options menu, Connie let out a triumphant grunt when she finally found the navigation app again. Synchronized with the schedule Ozpin had uploaded onto it, the Scroll showed her that the class she was looking for was not even twenty feet down the hall. Unfortunately it was the same one that Cardin was heading for.

Here we go.

Cardin ducked inside, and just as she came to it he sneered and slammed it shut in her face, locking it behind him. She frowned, flicking an ear as she tried the door.

True to form, it didn't open.

At least he only locked the door, she thought. Sighing to herself, Connie leaned against the opposite wall as she settled in to wait. There was a vent in the ceiling, making it possible for her to get to class another way, but why through the effort? Thus far she had been thoroughly unimpressed with Beacon.

There was a muffled bellowing inside the class, and after thirty seconds of it, Cardin opened the door with a pained, almost constipated expression on his face.

"Come in," he gritted out. Connie bit back a retort, something she did easily enough from years of practice as she schooled herself to a façade of passive calm. Not meeting Cardin's eyes, she walked through the door and was immediately confronted with the entire class staring at her. She froze, her fox begging to flee before she swallowed it down and trudged to the desks.

"Oh ho, not so fast!" a voice said as a gut wobbled in front of her. Connie stepped back and looked at the large man, who surely must have been a force to be reckoned with in his youth, but had gone to grey and an impressive six-pack had turned into an impressive gut.

Professor Port stood with hands on his hips, looking stern from behind his eyebrows as he said, "And where do you think you're going, Miss?"

Connie blinked, shuffling where she stood. "…My desk?"

"But you were late!" Port said loudly. "And a Huntress who is late must bear the consequences! On the field of battle, the enemy does not wait for the hero to arrive. No, in the three minutes you took to get here, a single Beowolf could have massacred an entire town!"

"But I'm not a Huntress," Connie said blandly.

"Therefore! You will be punished, along with Cardin Winchester!"

Cardin, who had been sneaking to his desk while Port was distracted, paused and shouted, "What?! Can't you just punish her?"

Port turned to the bully and drew himself up to his full height, standing a full head above Cardin. "It should apply double to you, Mister Winchester," he said, eerily calm. "It is Miss Carlisle's first day. You, however, have been here for weeks and have had more than enough time to learn your schedule."

He turned and strode to a large, drape-covered cage that was squatting in the corner. "So! As a much younger, strapping man I had the opportunity to acquire an exceedingly rare item. And 'rare' as in almost impossible to acquire and still have your life at the end of it!"

He grinned and winked at the class, who let out a collective groan – Yang, regretting sitting at the front once again, shuddered as she huddled deeper into her coat.

"But," he continued, "through sheer tenacity and skill as a Huntsman, I managed to get my hands on a single Creep egg!"

Murmurs swept through the class. Pyrrha, who sat with Nora and Ren in the middle level of desks, gaped at Port with shock and disbelief, as did Weiss in the front row. However, most students, like Jaune and Ruby, frowned, confused at what Port was even talking about.

Cardin rolled his eyes. "A what, now?"

Port grinned and slammed his fist on the cage, making the beast inside screech and roar with primal fury. Connie recognized the call and shivered, knowing that it was crying out for any allies.

"As punishment, you and Miss Carlisle will fight the Creep! It will be a good demonstration for the class as it will be the next species of Grimm we will be studying, so be vigilant and watch closely!" Port shouted, and then made to grab his awkward blunderbuss off the wall.

Before he could do so, Pyrrha shot to her feet. "Professor Port, you can't be serious! The Creep is a low C rank Grimm, and you're going to let it loose inside the classroom?!"

Port grinned as he hefted the weapon in his arms. "Indeed!"

Cardin sneered. "Come on, if it's a Grimm I'll just kill it. The animal doesn't even have to get involved."

Again, Port grinned. "This Grimm will be much more than you can handle, Mister Winchester. Both of you will be needed to bring it to its knees. However! Cardin, you will attack the Creep, and Miss Carlisle will not. I will be giving you detention if you don't allow Miss Carlisle to help, and I will give Miss Carlisle detention if she does."

Immediately panicked, Cardin scowled at Port and said, "Wait, what kind of test is this?! I need my weapon!"

"You will not always find yourself with that advantage!" Port bellowed, and slammed his axe on the lock to the cage.

-O-O-O-

The mouse Faunus shuffled through the halls of Beacon, a heavy limp on his left side. Muttering to himself as he fiddled with the odd pump in his hands, he strode to an elevator and waited for it to arrive. He continued to mutter even as he rode the metal death trap all the way to the top floor, to the Headmaster's office and its massive clunking gears. Taking a moment to admire the engineering marvel, the mouse strode forward and looked to the chair behind the glass desk that was facing the window.

"Professor Ozpin. Found something wrong."

The chair turned, and Ozpin looked at him with a calm gaze and a mug of coffee. "Yes, Felix? What is it?"

Felix wrung the pump in his hands before quickly striding forward and set it down with a loud clank. "Inline pump to M7A6-H tank. Very sturdy. Pulverizes Dust into dust so it can be used safely."

Ozpin nodded, taking the pump himself and turning it over in his hands. "Go on."

"Nonfunctional. Burnt out. Been that way for a year."

Another nod.

"Came from the girl's tank. Grendel, I believe."

At this, Ozpin froze and peered at the mouse from over his glasses. "Grendel?"

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"Multiple stress fractures in the reacotr. Repairable, but one is fatal."

"Can it be fixed?"

"Mostly. Patch job at the most."

"See that it's done. I want a report on the damage and how long it has."

"Of course."

-O-O-O-

Connie couldn't believe it. A Huntsman, one who surely had much more knowledge and experience than any of them in the room, was about to unleash one of the most infamous Grimm on the class.

A class full of unarmed hunters-in-training who knew nothing about it.

Someone please kill me. If people are this stupid, just kill me now.

Still, she kept her thoughts to herself.

#2

Port swung his axe, ignoring Cardin's panicked yells. The lock exploded in a shower of metal as the cage door burst open, the beast impatient as it lunged out with a feral scream. It was a bulky, two-legged reptilian Grimm, but what it lacked in forelegs it more than made up for with sheer muscles. Armor plates coated almost every bit of its skin, and its head the most heavily armored and protected from any attack. Crouching low, the beast gave another roaring cry.

Said roaring cry was ended with a painful croak when Connie drew her gun and fired, sending a slug of metal straight down its gullet.

"Miss Carlisle, where did you get that weapon?" Port bellowed. "Moreover, Cardin was the only one with authority to –"

Connie fired twice more, but the bullets simply splashed against the head crest. Having recovered, the Creep screamed and lunged at her, but was knocked back when Cardin rushed forward and punched the thing. With another roar the Grimm knocked Cardin away with a sweep of its head, giving it a moment to actually look around and see all the tasty humans packed in the room with it. Drool began to drip from its fangs as it turned to face the students.

Eyes widening, Connie fired a shot across its nose as her hand went to the hem of her skirt again. "Oi. Ugly."

Having gotten its attention once more, Connie strode forward as she pulled a grenade into view. She lobbed it and covered her eyes, waiting a beat before it exploded with a brilliant flash of light and a bang, dazing both the beast and the rest of the classroom. With the Creep knocked for a loop, she fired three more shots before the cylinder ran dry, pounding at its knees before she ripped out the spent plastic and slapped in a fresh cartridge.

Six more bullets were put into its knees.

Though the Creep stumbled, it didn't fall.

Connie slapped in her last cartridge and glared over to where Cardin was cowering behind Port's desk. "Winchester!"

Cardin flinched.

"Get your weapon!"

Frozen stiff, Cardin stared at the Creep with fear. Being thrown by the thing probably didn't do him much good.

Connie snapped him out of it by leveling her gun at him and put a bullet into the wall next to his head. "Get your weapon!" she roared.

The gears finally seemed to clunk in the big lug's head, as he shot to his feet and raced out the door without looking back.

The Creep felt forgotten, and so it roared and lunged at Connie. She put a bullet in its foot and sidestepped, letting the beast fall to the ground as she skipped away from it. "Evacuate! Now!"

Many students looked worried, chief among them Pyrrha, Weiss, and even Yang, but no one moved.

Exasperated, she glanced at Port, who stood by with his weapon set on the ground like a cane. "Does this room have a suppression system?" she demanded.

Port nodded, an eyebrow raised. "Yes, I believe so."

"Activate it! Right now!"

Instead of moving, Port laughed – laughed – and crossed his arms. "But you seem to have the beast well handled, don't you?"

"Activate it, you fool!" Connie screamed, and looked to the Creep as it got back to its feet. She fired again and again and again, each bullet squashing against the armor without penetrating. Annoyed by the harsh impacts the beast screeched and lunged at Connie, who had to leap to the side to keep from having a bite taken out of her.

It was then her luck finally ran out. Her foot slipped during the landing, the tile too polished to support her properly and sending her sprawling painfully on her side as her gun flew from her grasp. Wide eyes watched it fall, and when it hit the ground she gasped and scrambled on all fours to get to where it lay only a few feet from her.

The class was hushed when the Creep stepped in front of her, making her freeze as it leered down at her with dripping fangs. Connie felt a cold thrill run through her, breath caught in her throat as she glared at the menace. If nothing else, then she'd be a distraction for the students to evacuate.

"Fine. Eat me," she muttered.

The Creep roared in triumph.

"Eat me!"

It made to do so, lunging forward with an eager screech.

The screech turned into a squawk when Yang flew at the Grimm, eyes glowing red and her hair giving off steam and tongues of flame. She beat at it with her bare fists as she let out a feral scream, pounding it with floor-shaking blows that cracked its armor and sent teeth and bone fragments flying. She drove it back, throwing out a left cross, right, and left again as the temperature in the room rose, and finished with a brutal uppercut that sent sending the Creep headfirst into the ceiling and made the entire room rattle.

Yang flexed her shoulders, glaring at the Grimm as it dropped to the floor with a heavy thud. "Piss off! You're not touching her!"

Connie, who had been staring awestruck at the spectacle, froze at the blonde's it out of her mind, she staggered to her feet and stooped to grab her pistol, ignoring Yang as she came to her.

"Hey, you okay?" Yang asked, her voice gentle as she reached out to grab Connie's shoulder.

Connie shied away. "I'm fine," she said, and walked over to the broken, sprawled form of the Creep. It whined pitifully, not meeting Connie's eyes as she used her foot to flip its head over and took aim at the bottom of its unarmored jaw. She didn't say a word as she fired her last bullet in its brain, finally penetrating the soft tissue.

"Bravo! Bravo!" Port cried out. "Excellent use of your surroundings! Though Miss Xiao Long wasn't supposed to participate, she did much to –"

"Enough," Connie growled, rounding on the teacher. "You are the most irresponsible Huntsman I've ever met. You released a Creep in a classroom full of unarmed civilians."

Port was confused, and frowned. "What in heaven's name are you –"

"And more than that," Connie continued, "what were you thinking, siccing that thing on the class while it was unarmed?"

Drawing himself up to his full height, Port puffed out his chest and put his hands on his hips. "I wouldn't have done that if I knew you couldn't handle it! A Huntress that can't handle a mere Creep has no right to be a Huntress!"

"I'm not a Huntress," Connie growled. "I'm a fully licensed and certified Armor pilot. It's my duty to see each of these Hunters lives to see their potential, and you put each and every one of them in jeopardy."

She was annoyed, no, furious that a veteran Hunter could be so thoughtless, and silence ensued as she leveled her darkest glare at the man. Yang stood in the background, frowning and unsure that to do. Ruby was focusing on trying to make herself as small and quiet as possible, while Blake and Weiss looked on with bland expressions. Nora had no clue what was happening, the same as Jaune.

Pyrrha and Ren exchanged a look.

"Where do you get off, saying that we need to be protected?! You're the one that nearly got eaten!" a student yelled.

"Did you know where the Creep's weak point was?" Connie asked, her dark glare still leveled at Port. The student fell silent. "Did you know where its center of balance was?"

"N-no –"

"Then you can criticize me once you do."

She turned away from Port.

"You should begin class, Professor."

Without another word she walked to an abandoned desk at the back of the room. She was careful to keep her face blank and leave nothing to hint at what her thoughts were, though her flattened ears betrayed her anxiety. Once she finally – finally – settled and Port began his lecture, she buried her face in her hands.

Of all the stupid, thoughtless, amateur things you could have done, you berate the teacher?! What the bloody hell is wrong with you!?

There was a thud beside her, and she stopped her self-scolding to see that the red hooded girl, Ruby, had set herself down at her desk. "Hey," she said.

Connie eyed her before she gave a slight nod and looked back down to Port. Inwardly, she was confused. Even from here she could see the girl's team frantically gesturing for her to come back. If it was all the same to her, she'd rather be alone… just what was the younger girl playing at?

"That was really cool," Ruby said. "I didn't know that Grimm armor could stand up to that many shots."

"…"

Flustered by the Connie's silence, Ruby stammered out, "B-but if you don't want to talk about it that's… fine… ugh…"

She let her head fall into her hands, hiding her blushing face from view. Connie looked at her, half-confused, and half-charmed by the girl's obvious awkwardness. It was different from the usual stony looks and apathetic comments she was so used to getting. It wasn't enough for Connie to relax around the girl, but she felt compelled to offer at least some sort of relief.

"You'd never seen one before," she said in a quiet, monotonous voice.

Ruby blinked, looked at her, and smiled.

It was then that Cardin hurled himself into the room, ducking into a combat roll before coming up with his mace raised and ready to crush some skulls. He promptly tripped over the evaporating Creep corpse and onto his face.

"Ah, Mister Winchester!" Port said, stopping mid-lecture. "How nice of you to join us once again!"

Cardin got to his feet and gave the beast a vicious kick. "What, it's over already? Don't tell me it ate the Faunus, 'cause that would be terrible."

Port laughed, hand pressed against his wobbling pot belly. "On the contrary, Mister Winchester, Miss Carlisle is very much alive, and despite being underequipped proved herself instrumental against the Creep!"

With a frown, Connie pulled her revolver out of its thigh holster. Sure, it was bulky and maybe a little outdated, but… underequipped?

"You, on the other hand," Port bellowed, pointing at Cardin, "fled in the face of the enemy!"

The bully looked like he'd been slapped. "But she told me to get told me to get my weapon!" he shouted, hefting his mace.

"That is no excuse! If this had been a room full of defenseless people, the Creep would have turned this room into a bloodbath while you were arming yourself!" Port reprimanded, a stern glint in his eyes. "You will therefore join me in detention after class! I will need your help to move my many journals of my heroic past exploits."

Chatter filled the room now that the drama was over, leaving Cardin to stand at the front of the class. He felt their eyes on him, heard their scathing mutters about him. He felt humiliated, a cold ball in his gut that threatened to drag him down to melt into the floor. It quickly turned to a red-hot pit of rage, and he lifted his head to glare at the damned fox that put him in this position. He was quiet as he strode to his sniggering teammates, who quickly quieted as he came close.

It didn't matter. None of them mattered. Because he would show her what happened when a Winchester was humiliated.

-O-O-O-

She stared at the wall, sitting on the hard, uncomfortable bench and wishing she were anywhere but the sick-smelling hospital. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't worried, and Mommy always said that it was bad to lie. One minute she'd been at school, happily drawing during recess, and the next these big black cars came and whisked her away here. The last thing she'd seen of Mrs. Lockley was her tearful and worried glance at her as the car doors shut.

She stared at the wall.

Things had been really weird at home, too. They'd kept getting letters in the mail from the same place – they must have worried Mommy and Daddy too, because she'd heard them arguing when they thought she was asleep.

She stared at the wall.

When a tired looking doctor came to her, she stared. When he told her that her parents been in an accident, she stared. And finally, when he told her that he hadn't been able to help them and that they wouldn't wake up anymore, she stared.

That had been hours ago. She stared at the wall, heedless of her burning eyes or the liquid that wouldn't stop streaming from them.