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Chapter 2: Foes

For the first time ever, Jaune felt somewhat like an adult. The tall, blond boy stepped into the plushly carpeted lobby and felt an unexplainable sense of pride. Everything in the room reeked of luxury, from the flamboyant chandelier to the couches laden with overstuffed velvet pillows. Gaudy as hell, but apparently it worked. Effective marketing, even if it told you nothing about how effective the bank's services were.

Despite the efforts of several fans, it was warm inside. Likely, that was due to the sheer number of people packed into it. There were maybe fifty or so of them in line for tellers, more at the service desks, and a sizable amount just passing through, going in or out.

It was Friday afternoon, and with just a few hours until closing, it seemed half of Vale was stopping by to settle things for the weekend. There were a lot of Faunus too. At least a dozen he could see, which was more than you normally saw in one place. That made some people nervous. Faunus and money shouldn't mix, or so they thought. Racists.

While the line was an annoyance, it was his own fault for waiting so long to make the trip. At least he had an excuse for coming on the last day. Between his lack of experience, embarrassing physical, and the crappy essays he'd scrawled out, it had seemed highly unlikely he would be accepted to Beacon. So when the letter arrived, he hadn't been the slightest bit prepared.

Not that he was complaining, of course. It had been his parents' wish that he attend a prestigious school like Beacon Academy, and it had always bothered him a little that he wasn't on the path to doing so. Applying had been a token, in a way. To show his proud parents and his seven sisters who looked up to him that he was trying. Jaune still remembered the look on their faces when he had read them the letter. He smiled unconsciously.

Jaune Arc, it had read.

We thank you for considering Beacon Academy as a choice of schools, and for applying over these past few months. Your test results, essay submissions, and previous schooling were all evaluated as part of our rigorous admissions process.

The schooling was the part Jaune had been most worried about. His parents had offered to send him to a junior academy when he was twelve. He had refused, thinking it would be extra work. It hindsight, he wished they'd forced him to go. His experience with swords was pretty limited, and with other weapons, it was literally zero. Most of the other students applying had already been training for six years or came from backgrounds that afforded them experience.

With his parents being huntsmen themselves, he wasn't bothered that they encouraged him to follow that path himself. It seemed like a fine career choice. When he was younger he had refused, partly out of laziness. But now, with regular school no longer an option, it was the only interesting thing to do.

Based on these metrics, the letter continued, you have been accepted to Beacon Academy. Your admission is contingent on you surviving initiation and demonstrating satisfactory skill and effort in the three-month probationary period.

Payment for the term is due before the 14th of January and includes meals, housing, and transport while on campus. However, bringing your own weapon is strongly advised, and being familiar with it prior to arrival is encouraged. Additionally, tuition is only refundable in the case of a voluntary or medical withdrawal prior to arrival. No exceptions will be made.

Congratulations on your acceptance, and we hope to see you at Beacon in just two short months. More details regarding payment, school policy, and other relevant information are on the attached forms.

Sincerely,

Professor Ozpin

Headmaster, Beacon Academy

And that was it. No information on initiation and its reputation for lethality. Nothing about what your classes would be like or who your teachers were. The forms had just been information about where to go and when to go there, mixed in with some legalese that he didn't really care about. The important part was that tuition was due, either mailed to the campus or brought in person to the financial office in Vale.

Conveniently, the financial office was just a few blocks away from the bank. Less convenient was the fact that the office was probably going to close long before he got his money.

Finally, he spotted some other people his age, a half dozen or so girls and guys lined up in front of a desk in the corner. They seemed like a safe bet, being the only other people in the bank under twenty.

Jaune picked his way through the crowd, casually squeezing in behind the others. He didn't know anyone in line, which was unsurprising but a little awkward since everyone else was talking. For all he knew, it wasn't even the right line. There was only one way to find out. He stepped toward the two girls at the back of the line and cleared his throat.


"Yaaaang!" the girl groaned. "I'm booored. Entertain me."

Her friend laughed, poking her in the ribs. "Ruby, you knew what you were signing up for when you came here. We're stuck, unless you'd rather skip out on Beacon?"

Ruby's silver eyes bugged out. "What? Of course not!" she said, too startled to consider that her sister might not have been serious.

"Just kidding, sis," Yang said. "I know you wouldn't miss it for the world. It'll be great."

Ruby jiggled her foot nervously. "O.K., but now that we're going to the same school, you need to start acting like a real big sister. That means helping me with my homework, and making friends for me 'cause I don't know anyone, and protecting me from bullies and stuff."

Yang puffed out her cheeks. "Like I don't do those things already."

"Yeah, but—" Ruby's voice was muffled by her sister's hug.

I'll always be there for you, Ruby," she whispered. "Teasing and all. This will be the best year ever."

Ruby nodded in agreement.

"Uhm, hey!" said someone behind her. "Is this, like, the right line?"


The blond girl stared at him with crossed arms, evidently irritated by his interruption. "Right line for what?"

Jaune blinked. "Oh. Sorry. I'm here to, uh, withdraw some money for school. I have a savings account here, apparently."

The other girl, shorter and with darker hair, looked at him excitedly. "Really?" she said. "You wouldn't be going to Beacon, would you?"

"Ruby, don't be silly," said her friend. "What are the odds he's going to—"

Actually, I am going to Beacon," Jaune said, straightening up. "This fall."

"That's so cool!" Ruby babbled. "I wasn't actually going there for two more years. On account of me, well, not being old enough. But then I fought some bad guys, and I got arrested, and long story short, they're letting me go early."

Jaune gave a little cough. "So this is the right line?"

Now it was the blonde's turn to speak. "So far as I know. I've never been here before, I just followed the herd. Our, uh, dad told us to go here."

"That make two of us, huh," Jaune said, surprised at how well the conversation seemed to be going. "What's your name anyway?"

"You first," she said. Her arms remained crossed over her leather jacket.

"Jaune Arc. Future student, aspiring huntsman, general nobody."

"Hmit."

"Yang Xiao-Long, you're acting like a jerk," Ruby piped in. "And I see no reason for it. I've concluded that you just don't like Jaune."

Yang bit her lip. "Or maybe I just don't know him?"

Jaune raised his hands, palms out. "That's O.K. Yang, is it? I only needed to make sure I was in the right place. I'll stay out of you and your sister's way. I can't, like, literally move away, because I'm in line, but I'll try to, and — you get my point."

Yang raised an eyebrow. "How did you know I was—oh. Fine, then." She rolled her eyes as Jaune awkwardly turned and walked a few paces away."

"What?" Ruby said in a half-whisper. "Yang, you don't decide who I talk to? That was like, the one person I've met who's going to Beacon."

"You know he actually chose to leave. I didn't tell him. I didn't even suggest it."

"Maybe you didn't tell him, but he sure got the message."

"You can do better than him, Ruby. And you shouldn't be worrying about that anyway."

"I'm not—" Ruby made air quotes—"into him, Yang. For once I feel like talking to people and you treat it like it's a dig or something. I'm just trying to make friends."

"Fine then, make your own friends," retorted Yang. "I won't stop you."

Ruby's lip curled as her sister turned away.


"Hello, father."

The man behind the desk was old, but the gleam in his eyes showed he hadn't lost an ounce of his fire. "Weiss," he said. "Three minutes late, but I think we can excuse that. Take a seat."

A conversation with Jacques Schnee was an opportunity that most people in Atlas would jump at, but for Weiss, it was an unpleasant fact of life. Even talking to her brother Whitley would have been more desirable.

Weiss sat, sliding out the lumpy armchair. Her eyes looked up nervously, and her father met them. "To business, then?" he said, sliding a stack of papers he had been looking at to the side. Her heart sank.

"To business," she echoed lamely.

"Don't pretend to be disinterested, Weiss. Why, you even told me you wanted to talk."

"I wanted to talk, Dad, but not like this. If you want to talk then we should just do that, instead of you...you summoning me here and treating me like one of your bloodthirsty business partners. You should hope that one day I'm not treating my own daughter that way."

Her father grinned cruelly. "I should hope your own daughter doesn't behave like you do. After all, it's because of this kind of disrespectful behavior that you aren't the heiress anymore."

Weiss gave him an exasperated look. "Can you please just tell me why I'm here?"

He didn't answer directly. "You're aware of the Schnee family's deep ties to the Atlas military, and I don't just mean your sister Winter," Jacques said the name oddly, tinged with bitterness and regret. "We have numerous contracts and projects underway at this very moment."

"Of course."

"I have just been informed that one such project is ready to begin, except they're missing something."

Weiss squirmed. "And I have something to do that?"

Jacques' head turned to gaze upon a framed map of Remnant on the wall. "Do you still want to leave, Weiss?"

"Sorry?"

"Leave. Depart. Finish your schooling other than here in Atlas." He flicked the brass astrolabe resting on his desk.

Weiss's mouth went wide with surprise. "Of course!" she sputtered. "You just had never really receptive to that before."

"I'm not doing this out of charity. Nor am I rewarding your behavior, which has been abysmal as of late. Assuming you agree to it, you'll first be enrolled at Beacon Academy in Vale. Between your skills and my influence you should have no trouble being accepted."

"Hold it right there," Weiss interrupted. "I'm not stupid, Father. If you think—"

"Weiss Schnee!" he snapped. "You will not speak to me that way."

"Father," she began, after a long pause. "Dad. First of all, I'm sorry. Second, I know you might find this hard to believe, but I would be willing to do many things for you. For this—" she spat out the word. "Family. But pretending to be a student just to be your spy at Beacon is not one of them."

"You're quick to jump to conclusions, Weiss," Jacques said, amused. "You'd be a real student, and you wouldn't be spying, either."

"Then why send me there? Obviously, you're not doing it out of kindness."

Jacques ignored the affront. "Experimentation has been underway for years in almost every Kingdom with the goal of channeling Aura through an artificial being. For the first time, Atlas scientists have been successful in creating one. They believe it is strong and convincing enough to apply to a combat school. That's where you come in."

"I'm babysitting a robot?"

"You could put it that way. You'd be guiding and mentoring a synthetic human."

"I guess that sounds a little better, but," Weiss frowned, "I still don't know all the details. It just doesn't seem feasible. How long would it be before the robot just… slipped up?"

Her father leaned over the desk and spoke with a whisper. "I don't know the details myself, but let me assure you I wouldn't be backing this if these was a chance it would slip up." He sat back down, clearing his throat. "Doctor Bran," he called out. "Stop hovering outside the door and come in, would you?"

The door opened to admit a balding man in a dirty lab coat. He was short, even to Weiss, smelled of whiskey, and sported the drooping face and stiff upper lip of an alcoholic. Weiss immediately disliked him; she had enough of those in her life already. Upon seeing her, his mouth twisted into an insincere smile.

"M-miss Schnee," he stuttered. "It's so good to finally meet you." He didn't offer his hand, which she was grateful for. His voice was like Klein's, only nerdy and depressed-sounding, and it irked her.

For a moment the three of them stood there, unsure of who should begin. Then Jacques raised an eyebrow.

The scientist swallowed. "I just wanted to let you know, sir, as you well know, this project is highly confidential."

Jacques let out an exasperated sigh. "For Grimm's sake, doctor, tell me something I don't know."

Bran went red in the face. "All that means," he continued, "is that we can't afford any loose ends. I want to make sure that your daughter is fully committed to the project before I fill her in on the details."

Weiss opened her mouth, but her father spoke first. "Of course she's committed. You may continue."

Weiss fumed. Her father was right: she was committed, but to hear it from his mouth rather than her own made it seem like the decision wasn't in her hands. That being said, if she voiced resistance to his plan it would be back to solitary for her.

"This entire program is a trial run," said Bran. "A trial run for the first successful creation of the Synthetic Aura Project, called SNAP for short. It grew out of the old exoskeleton programs, and as such can do pretty much anything a human can—and then some."

"I've met plenty of robots before," challenged Weiss. "And while they were all very functional, none of them could come close to passing as skilled or intelligent." She paused for a second. "How should I address it? I can't just say 'it' or 'the robot' to people that aren't supposed to know."

Bran's smile grew wider. "Miss Schnee, you've just hit upon two of the biggest schisms in the project. You see, this project wasn't trying to create artificial Aura, like an energy shield, it was to create an artificial conduit for the same Aura inside of you and me. It is my belief that real Aura grants sentience inherently. That is why humanity has it, why Penny has it, and why the Grimm don't.

Weiss turned her head to one side. "Penny," she mused. "I'm sorry, who's that?"

Bran's irises twinkled. "Why don't I let Penny answer for herself?"

Jacques' eyes flashed dangerously in response. "Doctor," he said in a low, steady voice. "I wasn't aware they'd be meeting today. And I did not agree to have that experiment in my office."

"It'll be quite safe, I assure you." An uneasy frown betrayed Bran's otherwise confident look. "General Ironwood is here to restrain her if needed, but I don't think that will be necessary. With your permission, sir?"

Weiss's father nodded stiffly. Bran placed two fingers in his mouth and attempted to whistle. The pitiful hissing that issued from his mouth was anything but.

"Very funny, Bran," said Jacques. "I see why the circus didn't work out."

"Penny? General Ironwood?" the doctor said sheepishly. "You can come in now."

The door opened with a bang. Its wooden frame, used to gentle handling, rocketed outward and ricocheted off a bookcase. Weiss's hand dropped to her sword instinctively, squeezing its hilt in anticipation. Ironwood entered first and took his seat. The renowned general was muscular and grey-clad. He had a look of impatience on his face. A ginger-haired, nervous looking girl in green overalls entered after. She gave Weiss a little wave before taking a seat beside the general.

"James," Jacques said, in a tone that was neither inviting nor hostile. "It's relieving to see someone as…qualified as yourself involved."

Ironwood nodded. "I've only been filled in recently. I'm here to keep Penny in line during her time here. Not, of course, that I'll need to."

The girl gave him a look of astonishment. "Of course not, Mr. Ironwood! I wouldn't want to make trouble for you."

"Hold on," said Weiss, leaning in for a closer look. "You're Penny. You're the robot?"

Weiss had a certain image in mind when she thought of robots. The grey Sentinels of Atlas were unmatched in their loyalty, efficiency, and consistency. Over the past three decades, they had gradually begun to replace humans in the most routine and hazardous military positions. Now thousands of the greys maintained peace and order within the four Kingdoms. Over time, had begun to place more and more trusted in their mechanized guardians, regarding them with the same respect they did human officers. Until now.

In the past few years, respect for the Sentinels had deteriorated along with non-Atlesians' opinion of Atlas itself. To them, it was a reminder of how the safety of their walls, the very foundation of the Kingdoms themselves, was preserved by Atlas's strength and not their own. Yet the nervous, freckled face before her was so unlike the blank, metallic faces she was used to.

Penny looked puzzled. "People keep telling me that, that I'm a robot. I know that means I'm made of something different than you are, but I don't feel any different."

Ironwood placed a huge hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Penny. It doesn't matter for now."

Well," continued Bran, "it seems as though everyone's here. I believe you're all acquainted with the General. Mr. Schnee, Weiss, meet Penny. Penny, this is Mr. Schnee and his daughter, Weiss."

Jacques remained silent and folded his hands in his lap, seemingly reluctant to acknowledge Penny's existence. Weiss felt no such reservations, immediately reaching out to shake her hand. Her father's immediate distrust of Penny emboldened her to be more friendly than usual.

"Nice to meet you, Penny," she said. Penny's firm handshake felt slightly alien, but not plasticky or metallic like she'd expected.

Bran looked down on everyone seated with content, like he enjoyed being the tallest for once. "So Penny, what do you think? You and Weiss will be going to school in a few months. She'll be helping you get acquainted since it's your first time attending one."

"Weiss is very polite!" announced Penny.

"That's great, Penny," Bran said. "But I really wanted to know how you felt about going to school."

"She shook my hand and said that it was nice to meet me," Penny continued, oblivious. "No one's told me that before. And Mr. Schnee didn't shake my hand." She looked down at her hands. "Did I do something wrong?"

Bran went a little red again. "I'm sorry. She speaks her mind sometimes and doesn't like to change topics without finishing. Which is why we have this," He turned to Penny and cleared his throat. "Penny, snap out of it."

Penny's eyes glazed over for a second. Her head lulled before snapping back to attention. "I'm sorry, what were we talking about again?"

"Nothing important, Penny, you're fine," Bran assured her. His expression was pained. "It's a vocal trigger," he explained. "It purges the current train of thought."

Jacques nodded. "I'm glad you have some degree of control over it. Are there any other commands?"

Bran looked mortified. "Sir, I hope you understand that Penny's autonomy and independence are at the core of this project. There are other commands, a temporary memory wipe and remote shutoff, but they are just safety features. They're not tools for people like you to manipulate her with. Imagine going through your day knowing that at any point you could forget what you were doing, be made to do something else, and then forget that too. It breaks my heart just thinking about it."

He paused and turned to Penny. "Penny, blank thirty seconds," Bran said, then turned back. "There. So her innocence is maintained."

Jacques waved his hand to silence Ironwood's protest before giving Bran his most venomous glare. "I hope you're not feeling any sentiment, Doctor. It, she, whatever, is not your daughter. She's military property that I helped finance, and if I deem you detrimental to the project I can have you removed."

"I'm sorry if I offended you, Mr. Schnee," Penny interrupted. "I've had a very confusing day, and I don't understand what I did wrong."

"She's right, Dad," said Weiss. "I'm tired of sitting here while you treat her, like you treat us, like we aren't even people. You claimed this meeting was about us!"

Her father let the silence hang for a moment before speaking. "It was, but now it isn't. General, escort the girls out and make sure they stay out. I have a few more questions for the creator of this ridiculous thing."

"Come on girls, let's go." Ironwood stood up and left with Penny skittering behind him. Weiss held her father's gaze as long as she had to before fleeing the office as fast as her heels could carry her.


"Name?" said an irritated voice, echoing through Ruby's thoughts. Inside her head, imaginary guns ceased firing, and hordes of ferocious Grimm were shaken from her thoughts. She took her headphones off.

"I'm going to need your name, girl," said the voice, much louder now. Ruby looked at the line of people behind her and then ahead at the counter.

"Ah! I'm sorry," she said to the teller. "I was totally zoned out and not paying attention, and I hope I didn't waste too much of your time."

The old man dropped his gruff demeanor. "I've seen a lot of absent-minded students," he said. "I don't mind. First name and last name, please."

"Oh, right. It's 'Ruby,' and I guess put 'Xiao-Long' for the last name."

Ruby waited while he entered it in.

"No. I'm not seeing anyone named Ruby." he said, smiling apologetically.

"That's funny. My dad would have been the one to set it up. Try 'Rose,' then."

The keyboard clicked rhythmatically as the man typed. He nodded. "It's all here. I just need to see some valid ID, like a license."

"I don't have one of those yet," she said. "But I do have some papers my uncle gave me."

"Those should be fine. Just give me a minute to go through it all."

Ruby turned away as the teller went to work. It definitely wouldn't be the last time someone asked for her nonexistent license. Such was the nature of being ahead of the curve. Of course, she'd jumped at the chance to go straight to Beacon with Yang, but hadn't thought over all the strings attached, like losing friends and being expected to manage your life all by herself. While she had bemoaned the loss of her friends a little, it wasn't like she had many close ones. Most of her free time had been spent training or goofing off with Qrow.

Some sort of commotion was happening at the front of the bank. Ruby glanced back to see a standoff between some businessmen and a group of Faunus. Large groups of Faunus made people nervous, as they were often associated with organized crime, or, worse, a dangerous cult like the White Fang. An unfair assumption, but one that was common enough to cause worry.

Not too long ago the White Fang was considered the greatest threat to the stability of the Kingdoms. That was back when threats were spoken of collectively, when the stability of one was the stability of all. The Kingdoms had been formed out of reliance on each other, but now it seemed they only relied on Atlas—and they didn't like it.

This tension frustrated Ruby to no end. Instead of an independent force united against evil, Huntsmen were becoming increasingly factionalized, working for a single Kingdom. If a war, even a small one, broke out, who would they side with? What would Remnant's greatest heroes do when pitted against each other? Ruby had learned of the issue when her dad had voiced it almost a year earlier, but Ruby remembered it like it was yesterday.

"It scares me, Ruby," he said with a grimace, "the stuff that's going on right now."

"What is it, Dad? Some new kind of Grimm?"

Her father's weary, gentle face looked up at her. He laughed. "If only, Ruby, if only. I long for the days when our problems were as simple as a flock of Nevermore. I fear no monster, but these letters I've been getting—" A shiver ran down Taiyang's proud, chiseled frame.

"Dad!" Ruby exclaimed, grabbing him by the elbow. He recovered immediately, squeezing her hand in comfort.

"It's fine. I'm fine. It's just…" He shook the stack of letters in his hand. "This is something, isn't it."

Ruby peered at the fine manilla and was surprised to see the official seals of the Kingdoms on each one. "What do they say, Dad?"

"They're letters of recruitment from each Kingdom, asking me to join a 'coalition' of sorts. Essentially, they want me to pick a side."

"That doesn't sound too bad. A side in what?"

Taiyang's mouth was dry. "A war. A war we swore would never happen. It still might not, but this is the diciest things have ever been."

"Did you write back?"

"Of course not. No huntsmen can swear allegiance to a particular Kingdom, to stop us from being used as soldiers. That goes back to the very foundations of the job. We're supposed to work on a contractual basis only."

"But don't you work mostly for Vale?" she asked.

Taiyang smiled guiltily. "You're right about that. Mostly for your and Yang's sake, I want to stay close to Patch, relatively speaking. The rule about allegiance was always sort of…irrelevant for me. I don't care who I work for. If war breaks out I'm fighting for my home and family, not a Kingdom, and I think most huntsmen would say the same."

"So we're fine then? If people aren't going to listen to the letters."

"You're assuming all huntsmen have a home and family. A lot of them don't. You're also assuming all huntsmen are honorable. Which is fair, because you've only known good ones. Some have gone rogue and would slit a farmer's throat for a handful of lien."

Ruby's face had lost a little color. She pushed her plate forward. "Why would the Kingdoms want a bunch of rogues? And why would the rogues want to help them?"

Tai's arm slammed downward. His fork stuck in his plate with a quiver. "Because they're murderers, Ruby! If Huntsmen were pitted against each other they'd have no reservations about drawing blood."

Ruby's eyes turned inward and she began to quake a little. "Wh-what are you going to do, Dad?"

Tai looked down at his youngest daughter with masked shame. "Is Yang home soon?" he said almost curiously.

"She should be back from her class in an hour."

"Is Qrow in town?" he said, casually sliding out his chair.

"He was at school today, I think so. Why?" Ruby's question floated away unanswered, drowned out by the spats of rain outside. Then the door slammed.

An hour later it opened as Yang, hair slick with rain, returned home. Instead of the warm cheer of the living room and the greetings of Dad and Ruby awaiting her, there was only silence and darkness. Seeing the uncleared table with fork eerily stuck into it, she rushed forward. The kitchen hadn't been cleaned. Bowls of food and utensils were strewn across the counter. A bolt of lightning illuminated a figure huddled on the ground in front of the window.

Ruby's fingers ran across the glass in a futile attempt to catch the water streaking down it. Smears of fingerprints covered the fogged surface.

"Why did he leave, Yang," she sobbed. "We were just talking, and I asked what he was going to do… he just left. And I called… over and over."

Yang immediately regretted leaving her scroll off. She wrapped her arms around her younger sister. "I'm so sorry, Ruby. I'm here now, and Dad's going to be back soon. I'm sure he just had to do something…"

Over a year later and there was still no trace of him. Qrow, hearing of his disappearance, stayed with them in Patch. A departure from his usual wanderlust, but one he was determined to keep up until Tai returned. Ruby now understood why Yang was so determined to find her own mother. A family without parents is like a shattered moon, functional but—

"Hello? Hello?" said a distant, familiar voice. "My, I might need to revise my earlier statement. You really are the most absent-minded kid in Remnant, aren't you?"

Ruby's eyes uncrossed as she was driven from her stupor. "Ah! Sorry again. Man, I am really not on top of things today."

The teller handed over a clipboard and pen. "Here," he said. "Payment should be automatic from here on out, provided you have adequate funds. Just sign at the bottom."

The letters seemed to swim on the page. Ruby wrote in her usual loopy signature with a heart at the end, feeling a little goofy for doing so on an official document. She rolled the pen across the counter.

"Am I all set?" she said hesitantly.

"You are," he joked. "Me? I've got a few hundred left. Luckily we're closing soon."

Ruby nodded feebly, walking away from the counter. She felt weak, dizzy, and unsure of herself, which happened every time she recalled her father's disappearance and her complete inability to do anything about it. Then the lights went out. With the windows draped and blocking most of the sunlight, everything took on a fuzzy grey color. A scream pierced the previous low murmurs of conversation.

The scream was drowned out by a thought-scrambling boom that caused the floor to slide and shake. Ruby tried to run, only to find herself on the ground. A foot trod painfully on her head. She crawled to her feet. Sunlight streamed in through a crude hole in the ceiling. Huge chunks of concrete littered the floor and the air was thick with dust. Under some of the larger chunks, Ruby could see legs, arms, and bodies. A few were flailing, but most were deathly still. Turning around she saw the kindly old teller's head caved in against the counter. Blood and gore were seeping out around the nearly flattened skull, which had been struck by a falling wooden support. She felt horribly sick.

A stream of grey and black-clad figures with hideous Grimm masks poured through the door, while others descended on ropes from the destroyed ceiling. They carried an array of vicious-looking scimitars, knives, and clubs. Their outfits and animal features were unmistakable. The White Fang were here.

The few huntsmen and huntsmen-in-training in the building had a fighting chance, but they were outnumbered ten to one. The civilians weren't so lucky. Ruby watched in horror as a frightened woman was tripped and savagely beaten by a wolf Faunus, who kicked the body to the side. The rest were still trying to shove their way through the doors, cowering in the shadows, nursing injuries, lying unconscious or dead. Yang was nowhere to be seen.

Crescent Rose came out instinctively. The first group of thugs coming towards Ruby had their legs swept out from under them by the handle of the partially-unfolded scythe. The rest skidded in their tracks, staying out of the weapon's reach. Ruby let the blade extend fully, even though she likely wouldn't be using it. More than a few of the grunts would have inactive or drained auras. Terrorists and murderers they might be, but they didn't deserve death.

Ruby hefted her scythe again, blade side down. Suddenly, a fast-moving figure tackled her from the side, sending her sliding across the room before colliding with a wall. It wasn't until she looked up that Ruby realized who had jumped her.

"Yang! What was that for?"

Yang pushed a finger against her lips. "Saving you, obviously," she whispered. "Come on, we have to get out of here."

A silent fury flared up inside of Ruby. "They're killing people, Yang!" she pleaded. "They're killing them and we're the only ones that can fight back."

Yang shook her head vigorously, although she hated herself for doing it. "It's not our job. We're still students. Police and professionals are already on the way."

Ruby felt an electric prickling, building up to a hot flash. Her finicky semblance had chosen this moment to go. Yang was left grasping at air as a crimson tornado erupted from her arms.


Jaune didn't know what the hell was going on. He had been minding his business in line, slightly ticked off from the argument earlier, when some kind of explosion had blown out the lights and damaged the building. Now, these thieves, terrorists, whatever-their-motive-was Faunus were storming the building. The White Fang, they were called. Luckily Crocea Mors had been on hand to shield him from debris, but his troubles were just getting started. His sword and shield were singling him out as someone who would put up a fight, regardless of his actual skill. It was too late to hide them. Already, a squad was closing in on him.

Jaune was pretty sure he knew who their leaders were. Two tall black cloaked figures stood side by side within a clump of the Faunus. They were the only ones without masks, but their faces were too dark to make out. Neither had a weapon visible, but one, the smaller of the two, was whispering into their wrist. It had to be a microphone or something.

One Fang charged right at him. "Death to the humans!" he yelled, brandishing a bloodied sword. "Today their greediest will taste defeat."

A siren blared in the distance. Jaune suppressed a laugh. A few cops would be nothing but a nuisance to a force like this.

Then a red blur swept through the ranks of Fangs, bowling them over and knocking them to the ground. A vicious-looking scythe emerged from the red. Jaune winced, but instead, the scythe snapped back, bluntly striking two Fangs in the head. A hooded figure coalesced from the dissipating blur, trailing strange flakes that reminded him of rose petals. The mysterious, pacifist reaper dashed between him and the approaching thugs.

"Jaune," his protector yelled. "Can you help me out here?"

He was stunned. "Ruby, is that you?"

The hood came off. Ruby looked back at him in determination. "I've got them covered here. Find somewhere to help!"

Jaune could do nothing but nod stupidly as he scrambled back into the shadows. Ruby's skill was seriously intimidating. If that was what was expected of him… he would be better off just leaving. The exit seemed really inviting right now. He began to creep towards it, hiding behind pillars and scrambling under collapsed desks.

The fighting was increasingly focused between the front ranks of Fangs and a small group of disorganized but incredibly powerful individuals. A grey-haired, portly man moved with remarkable agility, punching a hole in the White Fang's ranks with his lance. Meanwhile, a variety of metal crates and bundles wrapped with black cloth were being lowered through the ceiling. Tools for cracking the vault? Another bomb? Whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

One door remained intact and Jaune moved quickly toward it. He pulled down the handle and sighed with relief to find it unlocked. Behind it was some kind of generic office. There was a security gate, but it only went up to his waist and was unlocked. On the far wall was an oval, steel-plated door with three enormous locks on it. No way out there. Next to it were some armchairs set in a half-circle around a coffee table. The top of someone's head rested against the top of one. Another survivor, hopefully.

"Hello?" he said tentatively. "Are you alright?"

He walked into the ring of chairs and froze. The chairs were empty. Someone had been there before and nothing had moved, he was sure of it. Yet now, only a few moments later, it was empty. Empty, save for a pink, lacy umbrella. Idly, he grabbed it. Or rather, he tried to. Before he could a black glove materialized and deftly snatched it away.

Jaune reeled back. "What the hell!" he sputtered, toppling backward onto the carpet. He looked up.

A gloved finger wagged at him delicately. The umbrella swished from side to side. Pouty lips curled to scorn him. The tiny girl sat cross-legged over him in a black jumpsuit. Her hair was bizarrely divided into two curls, one pink and one brown. He would have laughed if not for the eyes. They were mismatched, one chocolate brown and one pinkish like the hair. She stared at him with her head slightly tilted. Although Jaune couldn't think of why, he sensed the cruelty in those eyes. Cruelty that was not specific to him, but directed at whatever unfortunate soul had her attention.

Oh, and she was attractive, too. The jumpsuit left little to his imagination, and something about her pouty smirk was inviting, in a demented sort of way. The strange mix of emotions, fear, surprise, desire, and uncertainty overwhelmed him. As such, he did something that would in any other circumstance leave him hanging his head in shame.

"You're… really hot," he blurted, then slapped his hands to his mouth. "Shit."


Down the rabbit hole you go, Jaune. You'll survive, I promise. I just can't promise you'll be unharmed. In fact, I might as well just say that you won't. So yeah this chapter came out at six and a half thousand words, more than 70% longer than the last one. If it was any longer, I would have split it in two, but it ended right where I wanted it to so I left it.

I'm not too happy with the pacing. I meant for the attack on the bank to be very sudden, coming after a long period of nothing but talking, but it seems a little more 0-100 than I intended. Of course, that's not to say it's nothing but action from here on out. In the grand scheme of the story, we are still well within the "setup" portion.

Right now I'm uploading one chapter a week to my account, and I have two stories, so see you guys in two weeks.

As usual, I highly appreciate any feedback, so drop a review (even a short one) or PM me.