Author's Note: Forgot to mention this during the last chapter but, by the time of its posting, Soulbound had exceeded 100,000 views with a total of 556 Favs. Never thought I could be prouder of my fic until that moment and I doubt it'll ever stop as, even after over a year, there are still people discovering, reading it, and faving it. Whether you pity or envy them for being able to read it all in one go and not experiencing the torturous wait for chapter after chapter is up to you.

This chapter's the shortest one so far but that's mostly because I'm preparing myself for the next. For those who don't know, in my oneshot Black Fang, I had already pretty much novelized the White Fang meeting with some minor differences such as Yang being the one to infiltrate it. So even though I'm doing this with Blake, it doesn't change the fact that I'm doing it again with the added task of making it a bit more fresh without making it seem too monotonous due to Black Fang and RWBY itself. So the next chapter might take a while as one thing I'm going to be doing is completely changing Roman's speech and having it effect Blake more.

Brain: Whose fault is that?

I didn't think I'd be doing this again!

"Penny, I...I don't understand."

Penny smiled sadly, pulling her hands back in order to look at them. "Most girls were born, but I was made." She flexed her fingers with ease, showing that, other than the skin, she hadn't taken any kind of damage that would hamper such a simple motion. "I'm the world's first synthetic person capable of generating an Aura."

There was a measure of pride in that claim but it didn't last. When her fingers relaxed and she could better stare at the metal palms, her smile melted. Pride turned to shame as she closed them, hiding them, and she once again brought her hands near to her chest. "I'm not real."

Ruby reached towards Penny, keeping her movements slow so as not to startle her. She gently took her hands and was relieved when Penny didn't struggle. Translating it as permission, she drew her hands out and carefully pried her fingers open.

Ruby had seen this before. Alongside androids, there had been the development of prosthetics to replace limbs that may've been lost whether in battle, an accident, or otherwise. Common replacements duplicated the functions of their biological counterparts with a mechanical arm or leg able to work as well as the real thing - possibly better. With an integrated neural interface, they could receive electrical impulses from the brain and respond accordingly with some of the more advanced specimens able to increase the strength and speed of the patient.

Ruby's fingers brushed along the skin of Penny's, putting pressure here and there. Some kind of synthetic coating that adhered to the metal skeleton and was meant to mimic the appearance and feel of real skin as it did give slightly beneath her physical examinations. It was even warm to her touch. Between the prosthetic and the coating, it would be very difficult to identify a fake limb from a real one.

But to do this for a whole person? Ruby thought with amazement. She moved on to the exposed metal and noticed the difference immediately. Solid and sturdy, unnaturally smooth, and cool to the touch.

But there was a different kind of warmth; an energy that emanated from even these metal replicas that Ruby could not only feel but follow the source up Penny's arms and knew was coming from her center.

"Of course you are," Ruby declared, her hands enfolding Penny's and giving them a squeeze. She smiled to her assuredly. "You think just because you've got nuts and bolts instead of squishy guts makes you any less real than me?"

Penny looked at their joined hands incredulously. "I don't...um." She then squinted at Ruby closely. "You're...taking this extraordinarily well."

"You're not like those things we saw back there." Ruby tapped a finger against Penny's chest, ignoring the sound of the hollow thumping and concentrating on what she could sense. "You've got a heart and a soul. I can feel it!"

No, Penny was nothing like those machines from before that had their faceless visors and could only imitate human actions through their programming. Their friendship had been recent but in the short time they've known each other, Ruby had seen genuine emotions from Penny that couldn't be programmed. Joy at having a friend, regret for having been unable to help, fear of her true nature being discovered, and shame for being different.

Another batch of such emotions played along Penny's face as she regarded Ruby to prove it. Confusion at Ruby's proclamation which became relief when she comprehended the honesty behind it. "Oh...oh, Ruby!" How she grabbed Ruby's shoulders and the beaming smile on her face conveyed her excitement and the hug she pulled her in spoke of her sincerest thanks. "You're the best friend anyone could have!"

The hug easily rivaled one of Yang's with Ruby's head nearly being crushed against Penny's chest. Enduring it, Ruby's muffled groans came out with, "I can see why your father would want to protect such a delicate flower."

"Oh, he is very sweet!" Penny said, thankfully letting go with Ruby desperately gasping for air as soon as she was freed. "My father is the one that built me. I'm sure you would just love him!"

"Wow," Ruby commented once she recovered. "He built you all by himself?" And I thought I was good when I built Crescent Rose.

"Well, almost. He had some help from Mr. Ironwood."

"The general?" Ruby immediately thought back to the plaza where he had been presenting. "Wait, is that why those soldiers were after you?"

"They like to protect me, too!"

"They don't think you can protect yourself?" Ruby asked with a disbelieving brow.

"They're not sure if I'm ready yet," Penny replied seriously. "One day, it will be my job to save the world. But I still have a lot to learn. That's why my father let me come to the Vytal Festival." She peered up at the sky. "I want to see what the rest of the world is like and test myself in the tournament."

Ruby tilted her head curiously. "Penny, what are you talking about? Save the world from what? We're in a time of peace."

Penny dropped her chin down in order to give Ruby a similar tilting of her head. "That's not what Mr. Ironwood said."

"Check down here!"

The soldiers! Ruby identified as she looked back down the alley.

Penny once again grabbed her shoulders. "You have to hide!"

"Gah!" Ruby cried out, suddenly finding herself being lifted off her feet and held over Penny's head. "Penny, what are you doing!?" She struggled, arms and legs flailing wildly. "You don't have to go with them, I can help you!"

Penny wasn't affected by Ruby's struggles, easily handling her and calmly walking over to an open dumpster. With a quick toss, Ruby fell into it, the lid slamming down over her before Penny lifted it back up in order to speak to her. "It's okay, Ruby; they're not bad people. I just don't want you to get in trouble. Just promise me you won't tell anyone about my secret. Okay?"

Ignoring the foul odor and how she was kneeling in something that was all sticky and gross, Ruby nodded. "I promise."

Giving her one last smile of thanks, Penny closed the lid back over Ruby, pitching the young leader in darkness. The action also closed off ventilation and Ruby gagged as the smell that had once been foul became smothering. She attempted to shift around as quietly as possible to get out of whatever she was kneeling in and was rewarded for her attempts with something else that squished beneath her and produced a smell that was even nastier and forced her to hold her breath.

Keeping an ear out for Penny, Ruby heard the soldiers finally arrive. "There she is!"

"Salutations, officers!"

A need to see what was going on and to breathe some fresh air convinced Ruby to carefully lift the lid of the dumpster enough to succeed in both pursuits. Outside, she could see Penny standing innocently in front of the two soldiers.

"Why were you running?" one of them asked. "And what happened to the other girl?"

"What girl?" Penny questioned in return. "I've been by myself all day- hic!" A hand flew to her mouth but the soldiers had been too busy searching around the alley - most likely looking for Ruby - that when they faced her, she reestablished her 'innocent' pose.

"You shouldn't cause such a scene."

"Are you okay?" the other asked.

Penny extended her hands. "Just a scratch."

While the second soldier knelt down, delicately taking her hands to examine them, the first sighed at seeing the damage. "Penny, your father isn't going to be happy about this. Please, just come with us."

"Yes, sir."

Ruby watched the scene with interest. The one looking at Penny's hands let them go once he was done and when he stood up he patted the top of her head, an action that Penny was pleased with. The other who appeared to have more authority touched her back, gently guiding her in the direction of where they came from which she followed without question. For being heavily armed and armored soldiers, they were demonstrating a protectiveness that Ruby knew all too well.

I guess she really will be fine, she decided when they left.

There came an unexpected squeaking beneath her, informing Ruby that she wasn't alone in the dumpster.

Oh, that's a RAAAAAAAAT! Ruby scrambled away, the lid falling back over the dumpster which started shaking chaotically in time with the panicked screams and squeaks coming from within.

It was dark by the time Yang made the hard turn into the final street, popping a wheelie in the process. She had to ride all across to the other side of the city, navigating through traffic and streets the whole while, so it had taken some time. She didn't mind as that meant that she could spend more time with her beloved motorcycle - her gift to mark her graduation from Signal and successful transfer into Beacon with her citing that if she was going to be spending a lot of time in a city, then she needed the perfect ride for it. And boy did she get it: a glossy yellow sport bike that came with all the bells and whistles like supercharger intakes at the sides of the engine compartment that expressed nothing but speed and power that earned it the name Bumblebee.

It was love at first sight and she took every opportunity she could to take it out for a night of vigorous fun that involved pushing the accelerator as far as it could go, leaning hard into curves to perform violent turns, and weaving through cars to instill envy into the drivers who wished that they could be riding this roaring monster of a machine. Not necessarily on both wheels either as the vehicle bounced beneath Yang when the front returned to street-level. Pulling up to the curb, Yang hit the brakes harder than needed, getting one last exciting dose of adrenaline that came with the sudden deceleration before the ride finally came to an end when the engine clicked off.

She straightened in her seat and took off her helmet, letting her hair fall free with an accompanying shake of her head. Glancing over her shoulder at her passenger, she thrust a thumb to the nearby building. "Come on, my friend's right in here."

Yang got off but Neptune didn't follow right away, staring ahead in a daze with goggles askew and blue hair a windswept mess. "...Cool."

She had to admit, he held out better than she expected. When they mounted up she had immediately shot down any chance of him holding onto her for support. The rear of the motorcycle had plenty of other places for him to grip onto but the raised back and his height did not mix well in this case.

"And where exactly is 'here'?" he asked when he sufficiently recovered enough to get off and follow her, fixing both his goggles and hair.

The answer that Yang was given when she first asked about it was The Club. She didn't know if that was an official name or a moniker that people have taken up when referring to it due to its reputation but she had been assured that if there was anything she wanted, she could find it at The Club. The place prided itself with blood-pumping music and dazzling lights with the owner of the establishment - Hei Xiong - boasting that there wasn't a drink that his staff couldn't mix as they were always privy to the latest recipes and the liquor used to make them up. If one was looking for a good night on the town to unwind, they went to The Club.

With Neptune following behind her, Yang made her way to the building they stopped in front of. There was music blasting from within but she didn't expect it to be busy tonight; if she was right, the grand reopening of The Club was still a couple hours away at least and she made sure to get here fast enough to take advantage of the window of opportunity that would have it free of innocent civilians. A precaution that Yang was making sure to take for this visit.

A pair of guards stood in front of the large sliding doors that acted as the entrance, decked out in all black and red: black suits and pants, gloves, top hats, and red ties and shades. One of them saw Yang coming and reacted as she expected him to. Getting the attention of his buddy, he frantically pointed towards Yang. "It's her!"

They didn't seek to confront her - quite the opposite. The two made a hasty about-face, scrambling to the door with one shouting as he manually slid open the door and ducked inside, "Hurry, close the door! She's coming!"

Though Neptune fell back, stumped at the guards' fright, Yang continued walking confidently, eyeing the doors that had slid shut again. Hm, she thought, noting the added thickness while Ember Celica activated. They look pretty strong.

Bang!

Shhhhhhh-

The explosive flare flew and slammed against the doors, the detonation blasting them apart. Somewhere in the middle she thought she heard screams but paid them no mind. With her gauntlets shrinking back into bracelets, Yang strode on through, the smoke dissipating and being replaced by flashing lights while unobstructed music greeted and enhanced her entrance. Once inside, Yang stopped and closed her eyes before grinning widely and holding up her hands. "Guess who's back!"

The clicking of thumbed hammers and safeties with the clacking of pulled charging handles coincided with the music choosing that moment to start skipping. When Yang opened her eyes, it was to see over half a dozen guards with even more rifles and pistols - a couple had one in each hand - pointed right at her face. Like the reinforced doors, this was an upgrade over the axes and swords that they wielded so ineffectively last time.

A few more guns aren't going to save them. Yang lowered her hands and balled them into fists at her sides while her eyes narrowed threateningly. Apparently another lesson was going to need to be administered here.

Off to the side and higher up, a DJ wearing a large bear mask poked his head out from his hiding spot behind his record table. Perceiving the needle bouncing on the record as an annoyance, he lifted the tonearm up and promptly dropped back down to take shelter.

"So..." The entire line of guards tensed when Neptune appeared at Yang's shoulder. "Yeah, so could you define 'friend' for me?"

"Stop stop! Nobody shoot!" The centermost henchmen were pushed off to the side in order for the owner to get through. Bigger and burlier than his men with a barreled chest, his clothes were nearly similar save for the fact that he was wearing a black vest over a white dress shirt. He fixed his red tie uncertainly as he addressed Yang. "Blondie, you're here!"

With his close-cropped black hair, heavy brows, and thick beard and moustache, Hei Xiong - aka Junior - had some similarities to a big black bear himself right down to the growl that tinged his voice. It didn't prevent him from being intimidated by Yang as he questioned hesitantly, "...Why?"

All pleasant again, Yang casually pointed to him. "You still owe me a drink."

Neptune watched with disbelief as Yang strode up to the guards and who was clearly their boss. Ignoring how all of them were heavily armed and that the orders of their boss to not shoot didn't mean they couldn't keep their weapons out, she slipped her arms around one of the latter's and tugged him along, the big man stumbling awkwardly to keep up.

"Woah," he breathed, impressed. "What a woman."

That was when he became aware of two girls who stood nearby and were staring at him warily, unsure if to treat him as a threat. One was dressed in white and had sharpened blades at her heels while the other wore red with metal claws extending from each wrist. Both were dolled up with excessive makeup and their long hair were cut and styled differently but their faces were identical.

Registering that he was in the presence of two pretty twins, Neptune straightened and nodded coolly to them "'Sup?"

As one, the twins turned their noses up disdainfully and strutted away. "Whatever."

Swing and a miss.

One went to The Club to have a good time with the services it provided. As for needing something more specific and illegal, Junior was the name to use when referring to Mr. Xiong.

Yang didn't know how deep Junior's criminal ties were but she knew that they were enough to make him a very successful information broker. He could get people guns, loan out a few of his hired muscle, and deliver on any other illegal contraband that was asked for. When taken into account of how The Club was not only a haven for those who wanted to escape the monotony of their everyday lives but also served as a common meeting spot for shady dealings, it gave Junior connections and insight into all there was to know about what went on in Vale and who the top players were.

Days before Yang was to begin her next phase of education by going to Beacon, she had visited Junior to pursue a potential lead. Long story short, she didn't get the information she wanted and the impression she left on Junior, his men, his twin bodyguards, and the entire club had not been a very good one.

But they all seemed to have bounced back well enough, Yang mused, taking the opportunity to check out the renovations that were needed after her visit. She had seen from the outside that all the windows had been replaced and the gun-toting henchmen and reinforced doors spoke of improvements that were made.

The interior had been successfully restored. The various craters that previously dotted the dance floor were no longer present and the separate rings of flashing lights and lasers had all been replaced and circled near the ceiling. The glass pillars that were arrayed along the dance floor and would reflect the lighting in an attempt to blind dancers were all there. Yang was pretty sure not one of them had remained standing by the end of the fight.

The thin, red-leafed trees, reminiscent of those found in Forever Fall, were neither real nor synthetic. They were more sophisticated holograms, projectors hidden within the floor and, at the peak of activity, they would flash different, but no less bright, colors. While crossing the dance floor on her way to the bar, a visual representation of a leafy rain was being conducted by those same projectors to give off a festive feel. As far as clubs went, Yang had to admit that this was one of the best ones she's ever visited.

Maybe I'll actually come back during a weekend for actual dancing instead of fighting. I doubt this matches Blake's tastes but, who knows, she might enjoy herself. Though they've been together for weeks now, they hadn't really gone on an official date.

She let go of Junior when they made it to the bar and he didn't bother to hide his haste to get away from her and put some form of an obstacle between them in the form of the counter. Yang waited patiently at her side, standing with arms crossed. She didn't requisition any of the nearby stools, planning on getting what she needed and leaving in short order to meet up with the others.

Junior was going through the shelves of assorted beverages and Yang wondered if he really did remember the drink that she didn't get the chance to enjoy. Seeing their boss playing host got the henchmen to go about their business although many were still giving Yang looks - a mix of nervous 'when-is-she-gonna-snap' and angry 'put-a-bullet-in-her-now'. She ignored them.

"You know, I was hoping that I wouldn't see you again," Junior dared to say, setting a glass down on the counter in front of her. "I figured that you would've thought that you did enough after your last visit."

"I like to come back to places I visited at least once. You could call me a Yangarang."

Junior stopped from pouring a healthy measure of whatever it was in the bottle that he held over the glass to give her a confused glance. "Why would I do that?"

Yang hung her head. Friends, family, and now criminals. Not one shred of respect for a good pun from any of them.

"So what do you want?" Junior asked, pouring a clear liquid that was heavy with a scent of alcohol and a trace of raspberries.

"Information, and I hope you can deliver."

"That depends. What are you asking about?"

"Who," Yang corrected. "I want to know everything you know about what Roman Torchwick has been up to, particularly anything that has to do with his recent dealings with the White Fang."

If Junior was surprised in any way, he didn't let any of it show as he continued mixing, adding some fruit juices that gave the drink a pink coloring. "What makes you think I have any clue as to what he's doing with those freaks?"

Yang lowered her brows to give him the same threatening look that she gave to his men. "Don't play dumb. I know that you had some kind of deal going on with him before. It was your men that helped him in the robbery of the Dust shop that occurred only a couple days after I visited you. A robbery, I may add, that involved my sister." She purposely brushed aside a lock of her hair, holding out her wrist and the bracelet wrapped around it longer than necessary and was satisfied when it drew Junior's attention.

"You know, there's a custom that people tend to follow: when they want a service, they usually pay for it." By then Junior was finished and pushed the glass - filled, no ice, with a strawberry stuck on the lip and topped with a mini umbrella - across the counter to Yang.

Yang pushed it back. "There's my payment, then. The drink you owed me for everything you know about Torchwick. Besides, the place needed a little redecorating and I think it carries a bit more character now, don't you think? In my opinion, I've been quite generous considering you didn't give me what I wanted for it." After some consideration, she plucked off the strawberry and ate it.

Junior curled his lip, expression sour, but directing it at the drink didn't do him any good. Dropping down on a stool, he flicked the umbrella away before taking the glass and downing the whole thing with a few deep gulps, slamming it down on the counter when it was empty. Then, with fingers of his other hand rubbing against his temples, he said, "I don't know."

"How can you not know!?"

"I haven't talked to him! I haven't even seen him since the night you first came in here. He paid up front, I lent him my men, and none of them ever came back."

Neptune suddenly appeared at Yang's side, smacking his palm on the bar top to appear intimidating. "So where did they go?"

Junior slowly turned to Neptune, staring at him quietly for a few seconds. "What kind of stupid question is that? They never came back." He switched back on Yang. "Who is this guy?"

"Don't worry about him," Yang replied, a light but annoyed slap with the back of her hand quieting Neptune. Having the guy who was supposed to know everything coming up short not once but twice had her eyes burning up at him with growing frustration. "Worry about me if I don't find out what I want."

"I already told you everything! Torchwick hired my boys and I guess he wasn't happy with them. Which is something I can relate to!"

The last part he shouted to his henchmen who took a break from what they were doing to give him helpless shrugs.

Yang silently cursed at coming up empty handed again but knew that starting another brawl was pointless. It might make her feel better but it wasn't going to get her any closer to finding out what Torchwick was up to. Deciding to believe that Junior didn't know anything useful, Yang stepped away from the bar. "Come on, Neptune."

"Did we get everything we need?" he asked, following her out.

"Well, we got everything we can." Which is nothing. "Hopefully the rest of the team is having better luck."

"Blondie!"

"Hold on, Nep."

Junior was waving Yang back. Suspicious but hopeful, Yang left Neptune in the middle of the dance floor and disgruntled guards to return to the counter. "Something jog your memory?"

"Not quite." He gestured to a nearby barstool and, though she was still suspicious, Yang complied in taking a seat. "I had come across something of interest recently."

"Anything that concerns my interests?"

"It might."

"And you're just going to tell me what it is? Wasn't it you preaching about paying for a service?"

Junior shrugged. "Call it a matter of pride. You've come to me twice with questions that I couldn't answer so consider this one a freebie." He picked up the empty glass and began cleaning it with a rag. "Besides, as I said, this might not turn out to be of any use to you at all. Interested?"

As much as Yang doubted him to have any worthwhile amount of pride, she was interested. Besides, no one says no to free. That and the chance to possibly get something out of this trip was more than enough to convince her. She produced a yellow Lien chip from her pocket and placed it on the counter, sliding it over to Junior who took it as soon as her hand left it. Another Strawberry Sunrise was quickly fixed and passed to her with Yang taking a sip this time, appreciating the fruity taste while she licked a bit off her upper lip - cool but not particularly cold which suited her tastes.

"I will say this," Junior began while Yang took another sip. "Ever since Torchwick and the Fang began doing whatever it is they're doing, there's been a lot going on. We're not talking about the recent string of robberies and an increase in Dust prices either. Boats coming in with unregistered cargo that vanish as soon as they hit the docks, air traffic controllers picking up unusual signatures that disappear before they can be identified, and other small things like that. This goes double for people. My men weren't the last to go missing and recently I've suspected that they weren't the first. There's faces that no one has seen in a while and it's not just random goons hired off the streets; a couple with a lot of pull have either walked off the face of Remnant or..."

Junior extended a thumb and index finger, pressing the tip of one against his temple while the other made a cocking motion. "Except not all of them went out as quick or as pretty, going by what was left of them."

Hearing that had Yang rethinking about her previous assumptions of the extra armor and firepower that she witnessed upon entering. Maybe all that wasn't just for me after all. "And none of this has been reported?"

"I'm sure it's made a couple headlines but who's going to care? Other than everyone worrying more about the Vytal Festival, as far as even the police are concerned, it's the fault of some bad blood or minor power struggles. They aren't going to get involved in that if they don't have to, not when they have other things to worry about."

"No, I suppose not," Yang deadpanned, an image of two incompetent detectives with their heavy downtown accents and careless gun-waving coming to mind. She chomped on her strawberry a tad forcibly.

"Anyway," Junior went on, "other than the disappearance of old faces, there's some new ones that people are whispering about, though I use the term loosely on this specific one as no one has ever seen it. Not with the mask."

"White Fang?" Yang immediately guessed.

"If she is, she has to be someone of some renown with a mask like that."

Yang blinked. "She?"

Junior grinned wryly. "That's the only thing that's been confirmed with any confidence which figures. No one can get more than a glance but that's apparently enough for them to be sure about that."

"You mentioned a mask."

"Right, right. Real creepy stuff. Some kind of skull mask shaped like a raven, and they say her hair is all feathers."

"She's a faunus, then?" Yang had seen some examples of avian faunus that possessed such, ranging from along their arms to head crests with rare breeds that were supposedly capable of growing wings. How well they functioned when compared to those of real birds she had no idea.

"See, that's where you get a bunch of hearsay cluttering up the matter. Some say faunus, some say human, some say something...else." Junior pointed to his eyes with four fingers. "Word is is that she has four eyes of soulless red and carries a sword that can cut into the Rasatal itself, allowing her to travel between our realm and that of the Grimm."

Yang scoffed and took another sip, her glass half full when it settled back down. The Rasatal was one name out of several and it wasn't the only fictional plane of existence that those that favored superstition preferred to explain how the Grimm remained so dominant on Remnant with nearly limitless numbers. "Sounds like someone's heard too many Grimmdark stories."

As the name suggested, they were a particularly dark category of stories. Much like how it was once believed that the Grimm were malevolent spirits that corrupted whatever animal life they took possession of, it didn't take much of a leap for humans to be included in that regard. In particular, the warrior embodiment of light: Huntsmen and Huntresses. Whether overwhelmed by despair or seeking to make pacts with the beasts to gain power, a Hunter would become corrupted, their bodies twisted and warped to take on characteristics of the monsters while their minds became lost to madness. What was once a great defender of mankind became an abomination that sought its extinction. The rare few tales ended with redemption, the Hunter able to be brought back to the light and the corruption lifted, but a greater number of them ended with those who had fallen slaying and feasting on who had once been their comrades and loved ones, paving the way for an apocalyptic end to all life on Remnant.

Suffice to say, those were stories that Yang made sure to never read to Ruby when they were kids.

"I've been at this business for a long time and I can tell you this: every story and rumor holds some measure of truth. The trick is to sort it out, polish it, and sell it to those who can't." Smug, Junior then asked, "Maybe not Grimmdark but she could be one who follows certain questionable practices that a few of you Hunters have followed."

Yang frowned, knowing what Junior was implying. The Grimmdark stories were rooted to some grain of truth. Grimm having been seen as evil spirits were only one theory from a more primitive culture. For another, it involved the dubious tendency of the Grimm to dissolve upon death, leaving no physical traces behind.

Someone got the bright idea that the reason that the Grimm did so was because the only thing that could terrify them was the sight of their own dead. This led to a disturbing practice where warriors of the day, in an effort to scare the Grimm from what territories they had or fulfill a need to carry their own trophies, would use animal bones, feathers, or furs that were shaped, dyed, and fitted to imitate their bone armor and black bodies. According to some historians, in a more macabre fashion, warriors would go as far as to wear the bones of kin that had been killed by the beasts into battle.

That practice had fallen out of favor since then due to the rather obvious shortcomings. For one, such costumes did little to deter the Grimm from performing what seemed to be their sole goal of slaughtering human and faunus kind. For another, it was during one of the few insightful lessons of their Grimm Studies class that Professor Port - the man who adorned his classroom with fake Grimm heads - had expressed his disfavor of it.

"If a village that has been besieged by the creatures of Grimm was to call for aid, only to see their rescuers in an appearance that mimics their menacing adversaries, it defeats the point of helping, doesn't it?" he had lectured. "You are all to become Hunters: defenders of the world, of the people, and of the peace. You are to carry yourselves high with honor where those who need it most can look upon you with the assurance of relief and protection. The Grimm are your prey. Respect what they are capable of so as not to be taken off guard but never seek to use their methods for your own use for to do so is foolhardy and goes against everything that we uphold. Fear never weakens them; it always strengthens them."

Nonetheless, there were the rare few who partook in the practice even to this day. Other than the White Fang – Blake had mentioned why her comrades wore the masks -, there were Hunters who became obsessed with the extermination of the Grimm. They almost always took search and destroy or scouting missions that would send them far away from the kingdoms and it wasn't uncommon for them to go further or stay out longer than the mission parameters laid out to satisfy their desire to kill as many Grimm as they could. It was a good way for those Hunters to go missing and never return.

"What has she been doing?" Yang asked. If this person was such a Huntress, it was odd to hear them spending so much time in a city which could explain the attention.

"No one knows. The sightings are sporadic and brief but enough to get people spooked and looking over their shoulders when combined with everything else going on. Those who claimed to have seen her would do so for one moment and then she's gone the next. The common belief is that she's hunting for someone, and some of the disappearances could be her having found who she wanted for the night."

"What do you think?"

"Doesn't match up to me." Junior stroked his beard while he pondered over it. "She's an oddity. You have major players doing some serious planning and now this latest entry springing up? She's someone that wants to be noticed. By who and why, I haven't got the faintest clue."

"And you thought this might be of interest to me?"

"I don't know. Is it?"

Yang fixed Junior with a pointed stare but he wasn't as affected by it, grinning easily and turning his hand up to show that he had nothing else. When it came to a fight, Yang had proven that she outclassed him by a wide margin but this was a different kind of environment where Junior's weapon of information was being wielded much more effectively than his bazooka-bat. Like with Neptune and their game of cards and a board, Yang couldn't help but feel like she was being played again. Was this really harmless information, shared only because of a potential link to Hunters, or was there some other reason that Junior chose to unveil it?

She had been absently swirling the remains of her drink the whole while until she decided to finally knock the rest of it back. Setting it roughly on the counter, she shot it across hard but Junior's hand was there to grab it as if anticipating the move before it could fall over the edge. He began cleaning it while Yang slid her stool back in order to depart from the bar.

Having learned from his previous lesson, Neptune hadn't moved from where Yang left him on the dance floor. Only when she walked by him did he fall in line. "Better luck this time?"

"Maybe," Yang replied absently, lost in thought.

The music had restarted shortly after Yang had begun talking to Junior but the beat wasn't doing it for her. The overhead lights continued flashing with bursts of color but it was the red laser lights crisscrossing around her that caught Yang's attention along with the falling red leaves. She attempted to catch one that happened to be close but she knew what would occur before it went right through her hand.

Mask shaped like a raven, she went over. Hair like feathers. The center of her palm became a fixed point for her and though she hadn't caught the leaf, its image was stuck in her mind. Red eyes.

Like the three burning pairs of red eyes that had stared at her so menacingly before the Beowolves lunged out from the depths of the worn, decrepit building to fall upon this latest prey that had so stupidly stumbled into the vicinity of their lair. As one they leaped, fangs and claws on display to show just how she was to be killed - and as one, they died.

The clacking of gears was followed by the fully-extended scythe blade that passed through two of the beasts, slaying them instantly. The severed body parts fell at the feet of the caped figure who spun to cleave through the third Beowolf. The fabric had flowed with his movements, obscuring his form, and it was only with the monsters dead did it get a chance to settle down, unveiling the head topped with a mess of stiff and scraggly hair that was swept back.

Like a crest of feathers.

Whether this unknown person had meant to attract Yang's attention or not, she was doing so now.

"This has to be it," Blake said with certainty.

"You sure?" Sun questioned.

It hadn't been a month but here the two faunus were again: staking out within Vale's industrial district. They were deeper within this time around, putting themselves at a distance from the docks where they had first overseen the White Fang's actions against the kingdom of Vale, but the number of warehouses that they viewed from their vantage point on top of the tallest ones were the same.

"It's the best location," Blake explained. "It's close but not too close to the docks so it gives them a place to store whatever Dust they make off with. Go in, grab what they need, and turn in before police even have a chance to arrive at the scene if a call or alarm is sounded."

"Isn't it a bit risky to stay in the city though? After what happened and everyone knowing that the White Fang are going around stealing Dust, the police have to be investigating them. Why not have, you know, a secret base or something outside the kingdom? Aren't there a lot of faunus that live like that?"

Blake shook her head in negative. "The White Fang have outposts in the wilderness but for extensive activities within a kingdom like what we have here, you need a couple hideouts within the walls. In the beginning, they didn't have the resources or numbers to stretch them so thin anyway. There's the police and Huntsmen to worry about but it gives members someplace they can come back to after they lose any pursuit like that. Even if they limit their operations to night, there's always the chance of getting spotted and, with Atlas's airships here, there's the risk of heavy aerial patrols. If an airship was caught with a hold full of Dust or members, it wouldn't stand a chance of making it to the walls. A lot of warehouses can spare enough room for a Bullhead or two."

Sun quietly mulled it over. "Kind of like all the smugglers we have in Mistral. Use unregistered warehouses or ones bought under a different name to keep their contraband at a distance so none of it can be pinned on them. Once a deal is made, they use their aides to go ahead and move it."

Considering who she was talking to, Blake wasn't surprised that Sun would know that. Between its distance with the other kingdoms, having the lowest of industrial power, and possessing the smallest of territories, Mistral depended the most on trade to survive. As a consequence, there had been a steep taxation on goods in the past which led to the rise and popularity of smuggling. Though the ruling body of Mistral had publicly denied supporting the smuggler outfits that had been established and were partially credited for allowing the kingdom to survive through the Great War, they haven't exactly denounced them either.

"In the case of the Fang, they also provide a place to gather." Blake's gaze on the assortment of warehouses became unfocused. "To plan. Recuperate and prepare for another day. A rallying point for other like-minded faunus. A place like this that's inconspicuous and ignored by the rest of society."

A place like the number of sanctuaries that the group had used when it was once a peace organization. Blake could remember it and it pained her each time that it did. It wasn't the deplorable conditions of them though. They could be small and quickly crowded with the amount of members that would take shelter there. Condemned, abandoned, or a dwelling provided by a faunus who offered what their second-class citizenship gave them which wasn't much but...enough.

That was what hurt each time. Blake didn't think about the crowded rooms, the thick layers of dust, the creaky floorboards, and the lack of illumination and running water that came with the worst of examples. Instead, she thought about her comrades that made the best of the circumstances. The spirited meetings under candlelight, eating what they brought and shared or what supporters had donated to them, and the nights when a smaller and more optimistic Blake could tuck beneath the arm or against the side of another to gain warmth and support for the night. Overcoming even such simple discomforts together developed a sense that they could do the same with anything. A product of deception as it turned out.

"How long do you think it'll be before we find any sign of them?" Sun asked.

Blake checked the time displayed on her scroll. "Not long. The sun had set an hour ago so at the very least I would expect that we'll at least be seeing movement from new recruits if the majority of the veterans had decided to meet up earlier in preparation."

"You think there's time for a quick snack run?"

There came a dull thump from Blake hitting her head against the roof of their chosen warehouse.

"Hey, this was all kind of sudden!" Sun attempted to defend himself. "I didn't get the chance to eat dinner or anything before I came to your dorm."

Blake removed her forehead to reveal a mask of frustration that she directed at him. "And whose fault is that?"

"I'm just saying that if I knew that we were going to be waiting on a rooftop again, I would've prepared for it."

Blake resumed facing forward. "By all means, leave and go find something if you want."

"Yeah, see, I have this funny feeling that if I were to do that and you spotted something while I was gone, you would be inclined to maybe...oh, I don't know...go on ahead without me?"

"Your loss."

The silence didn't last a minute before Sun shifted restlessly and Blake could pick up the rumbling complaints of an empty stomach. The cat faunus couldn't help but smirk at his discomfort. As annoying as he could be sometimes, she had to admit that he had a knack for lightening up the mood.

It didn't reach two minutes before Sun decided to bring up a problematic possibility. "For curiosity's sake, what if they don't decide to meet tonight? Or we picked the wrong place? How long should we stay out here before we call it quits?"

Blake really didn't want to think about it but she knew that it was possible that there may not be a meeting whether tonight or at this location. She was reasonably confident that she spent enough time with the White Fang to be able to pinpoint their most likely meeting spots but she had no control over the when. Her team's decision to investigate was at random, made on the spot, and there was no guarantee that they had done so on one of the Fang's off nights. They could be limiting their movements and avoiding gatherings in response to recent events.

"We'll stay as long as we have to," she eventually answered. "If we don't find them this night, we come back during another and try again if the others haven't found anything. This could be the best and only way to find out what's going on. Lives and the very kingdom may be at stake, Sun."

The conviction and the reminder of what they had to lose if they failed was enough to quiet Sun for a little while as he didn't retort right away. "I guess I should be happy that you said 'we'."

Blake checked her scroll again, frowning at the time. At this point, the others had to have finished up by now or were wrapping things up. Weiss and Ruby should be on a flight to Vale and though she didn't know how long it would take Yang to get what information she could from her contact, Blake assumed she would be done by the time they were ready to meet.

Should I just wait for another hour or until they call me and Sun? Almost as soon as she thought it, Blake suddenly perked her head up. "Sun."

He was already picking himself up to move. "I saw them."

It had been at the west side, she and Sun having kept the main street in sight with the belief that some of the arrivals would come through that way in order to enter the complex. Two of them did, crossing the street and disappearing into the maze-like pathways between the warehouses. Blake and Sun jumped down from their roof and made their way to where they saw them go.

"This one." With a ten percent room for error with her ninety percent certainty, Blake chose the alley she guessed was the one they went down, eyes and ears open.

The people they saw were nowhere in sight. Trying to convince herself that they needed to catch up rather than believe that she had chosen wrong, Blake persisted down the path until they came to where it intersected with three others. She and Sun looked down each one and it was the monkey faunus who pointed out the obvious. "I don't see them."

But they were around here and Blake was positive that they could lead them to what they wanted. She wasn't sure if Sun picked out the details - being a cat faunus, her night vision was better than his -, but she had seen that the ones they spotted were casually dressed and didn't look like they belonged. It was what was at the top of their heads that Blake spotted that convinced her that they were on the right track: pure white horns.

She was about to suggest that she and Sun split up and each take a path, sure that one of them would pick the right one, but that was when she spotted the marks on the wall over Sun's shoulder. Giving him a small push to the side, Blake approached the wall and examined the marks. Chalk-white, but with the darkness it would be difficult for anyone to see it unless they had the proper vision to more easily detect them. Three narrow lines, appearing like nothing more than tally marks except they were drawn with an obvious tilt that had them running diagonally instead of straight.

It was at the mouth of the alleyway to their left that they were drawn and Blake made her choice. "This way."

"You sure?" He didn't get an answer but Sun was already following her.

They came to another intersection and a quick scan awarded Blake with another set of tally marks, signaling another turn. They had yet to catch up to the two horned faunus but it didn't deter Blake, taking a couple more turns with the guidance of two more marks. They stumbled upon one last mark when their path branched off again but they probably didn't need it; there was a light that was coming from that direction.

Blake slowed down, quieting her steps as they approached the bend. Sun hung back, noticing the difference in her pace.

Before looking down the alley, Blake focused back on the three tally marks, her suspicions confirmed by their journey through the labyrinth. The tilt of the marks were simple but familiar and, donating a few seconds to examine them, she could make out the subtle thickening in the middle of the individual lines. With fingers pressed at the top, Blake bent them to better imitate a clawing motion as she dragged them down the marks. They were a perfect match to the major change that the White Fang's logo had undergone. Blake carefully edged to the bend and poked her head around it to get a look.

She found the two horned faunus along with a third. A single light burned bright over a door to a warehouse that the third was guarding; a properly-dressed, gray haired man who was at odds with the more casually-dressed arrivals. Going by how the pair shared a similar structuring of their horns and short, brown hair, Blake could confidently deduce that she was looking at a brother and sister. There were no words exchanged. As soon as the brother approached the sentry, the man handed them something and stepped aside to wave them towards the door.

Blake glanced back at the marks. They guide any faunus to a White Fang meeting.

This had to be what they were looking for and the revelation had Blake pausing as another comparison of the past and the present came up. She and her former comrades had always taken what they could for a base but they had never needed to hide or place such signs to guide other faunus to them. They were always open and welcoming, willingly taking in anyone who wanted to dedicate their efforts to the social progress that they were striving to make. As low as the treatment was that humans gave to them, they never needed to hide from them like this.

Blake turned back to Sun. "This is it."

"You sure?"

She glared up at him.

Sun raised his hands in surrender. "You know, I'm just going to take your word for it."

Blake undid her bow, letting her cat ears go free. Together, she and Sun went down the path, the sentry turning at their approach, and Blake could see a bat ear that was located at the left side of his head. There was no matching one to his right and Blake didn't like the possible implications that its disappearance gave her. He looked to each of them, putting unique attention on Blake's ears and Sun's tail that the monkey faunus made sure was poking out from behind him. He didn't ask any questions, the extra appendages that each carried enough for him to search within his suit jacket and hand them each an item like he did with the siblings.

Blake knew what she received once she grabbed it but chose to go forward when she was waved on, forgoing a visual examination for now. If she needed further proof that they were exactly where she hoped they'd be, it was when they stepped inside, the door being closed behind them as soon as they entered, and seeing not only the horned siblings but a small group of other faunus that were being gathered together at the end of the hall. What sealed the deal was the one individual that stood in front of them, features hidden by a white tunic, a hood, and a fanged, metal mask. A White Fang soldier.

This is it. The doorway that the small group stood in front of had to lead to the center of the warehouse and, Blake guessed, where they were holding their meeting for the night. They were just waiting to see who else would join and then they would start.

"I don't get it," Sun said unexpectedly. When Blake looked back, it was to see Sun inspecting the item that he had been given in his hands. "If you believe what you're doing is right, why hide who you are?"

Blake looked down at the mask she held. Gray in color, angular in design, and was meant to be worn over the upper half of the face over their noses and eyes while hugging the sides of their heads, resting behind their human pairs of ears. It was a simpler design than what the regular soldiers wore to mark them as recruits - they had two slits over where each eye would be but lacked the fang and covered a little less.

Masks or other methods to hide the faces of members of the White Fang had been used as soon as they began their terrorist actions to hide their identities from the police and other law enforcement. It had usually been restricted to renown members who were gaining more attention but, overtime, the White Fang found a better use for them.

"The masks are a symbol," Blake explained. "Humanity wanted to make monsters out of us, so we chose the don the faces of monsters."

"Grimm masks." Sun turned the mask around in his hands, frowning at its appearance. "That's kinda dark."

"So was the guy who started it." Blake imagined her mask having the red designs that would've covered the eye slits and accentuated the monstrous image that it invoked.

Other than the absence of the designs, the mask was identical to the one that Adam wore when she last saw him. Her old partner having been coming to mind since she became determined to stop the White Fang, she wondered why he had never changed it and let it be the design to issue to simple recruits.

Maybe that's the point, Blake hypothesized. She and Adam had been with the White Fang at the start and, between the two of them, he had been the one to rise to one of its elite members in a short amount of time. He had the brutality, the ferocity, and the sheer ruthlessness that their leaders wanted. Maybe his mask was meant to refer to his journey amongst the ranks: once a recruit, now one of its most feared and respected members with the ink meant to match the blood that he had shed and smeared upon himself to get there.

And whereas other lieutenants wanted to adopt a more terrifying design to strike added fear into the hearts of the enemies, Adam wanted what of his features he kept bare to be as terrible and symbolic as the Grimm they imitated.

As much as Blake once tried to defend him in the past and wanted to believe that he wasn't lost, associating him with such terms and thinking him in this way was surprisingly easy. Was the severing of their bond and her separation of him for these past months to blame for that? By being exposed to the kindness of her friends, the love she had for Yang, and how she had been given nothing but hope since arriving at Beacon, had she come to better realize just what the White Fang are now?

When she brought the mask to her face, it was then that she considered something ominous. They weren't here. She had Sun – and she was beginning to appreciate the decision of bringing him along - but she wasn't at Beacon nor did she have Yang or her team with her. Like back at the docks, when she had been without them last, she was surrounded by her former comrades with the added risk of being right in the heart of their meeting area. She was also in the presence of recruits - faunus who had been in the same position that she had been in, about to make the biggest mistakes of their lives.

Except back then, it had seemed like the right thing to do.

Putting on the mask did little to assuage these concerns. She had never worn one before and her initial impression was that it was tight against her head even when an experimental shake said that she had plenty of room. Her vision was narrowed, restricted to what little the slits offered. She didn't like it. It was heavy. Stifling.

She bore with it. She waited for Sun to get his mask on - making a comment about sunshines and rainbows while he did so - and then they merged into the rest of the crowd to wait until it started. It didn't take long. They were instructed to stick to the right. Of what, Blake found out when they were led into the center of the warehouse.

Row upon row of White Fang soldiers, taking up two-thirds of the interior of the warehouse while the recruits took up the rest when they were ushered in and assembled in a crowd that lacked their discipline and uniformity. There were others guarding the doors and stationed high above the overhanging catwalks, armed with rifles and holding commanding positions over the assembly.

Near the end of their peaceful stance, the White Fang had difficulties getting these kinds of numbers in one place for a rally nonetheless a simple meeting. If the bodies here didn't exceed a hundred, they had to have at least reached it easily and each and every one of them were not here for peace but for the savage and bloody wolf symbol that was painted on a hanging curtain up on the stage that had been erected for this occasion.

Blake was uncomfortable. Between the heavy mask on her face, her narrowed vision, and this thick crowd, a sense of claustrophobia descended upon her.

Why so many? Why are there so many here, ready to fight, when there hadn't been anything like this when we wanted help to attain peace? I've only been gone for nearly a year but it's gotten to be like this?

Up on the stage, a soldier stood at the center but he was different than the rest. He was larger, the sleeves of his uniform missing to expose the bulging muscles on his arms that he waved above his head, signaling for attention. A swirling black tattoo decorated his left arm while armored braces were worn at his wrists. He was missing the hood, leaving the close-cropped black hair visible, but there were no animal characteristics in sight that would mark what kind of faunus he was.

He had the mask but it was also different. It covered his face in its entirety with red, angry eyes painted where his should be. Trailing down the eyes were thin streaks of the same color that stretched all the way to the bottom of the chin.

The lieutenant's - for clearly that was who he had to be - voice was deep and powerful, reverberating strongly throughout the warehouse-turned auditorium as he addressed the crowd once silence had been achieved. "Thank you all for coming! For those of you are joining us tonight, allow me to introduce a very special comrade of ours!"

At one end of the curtain, a man stepped around it to be brought into view. The lieutenant pointed to him. "I can assure you, he is the key to obtaining what we have fought for for so long!"

The assurance must've been meant in an attempt to settle the disturbance that overtook the crowd when the new arrival walked over to take a spot on the stage, the lieutenant stepping aside to relinquish the center to him. It made it easier for Blake to see who it was and she recognized what little the narrow slits offered. The white suit, the cane, the hat and orange hair, and the confident and easy gait that brought him forward for all to look upon him.

It was Roman Torchwick.

Author's Note. This was actually the chapter that convinced me to try my hand at novelizing Vol. 2. My one major complaint about Painting The Town was the visit to Junior's bar. As nice it was to see him, Melanie, and Militia again, it was just a cameo and all around pointless. I didn't mind it at first but when we go further into Vol. 2 and see just how little info we get about the universe in the later episodes, it irked me a bit later on so I thought of how to make it more interesting. It ended up being a reference to Raven and more fan-oriented creations concerning the Grimm, particularly weissrabbit's Grimmdark AU to build more lore without directly contradicting canon. In case anyone hasn't noticed yet, take a look back at Raven's portal again and then go aaaaalllllll the way back to the first episode of RWBY and watch the credits at the end. You'll probably see something that could potentially imply very dark implications that I wanted to convey here.

Would like to take a moment to express my appreciation for the writers and artists like weissrabbit who had added so much more enjoyment to RWBY. Despite being left with so little about the universe after Vol. 1, it didn't stop fans from creating a whole lot of their own content that I enjoyed and what I know many people have turned to to sate their thirst for RWBY and getting more than they could've hoped. From when amipai and funblade got going with the Future!AU which led to the RWbabies, kuma's current Henceforward, Kinzaibatsu91 with her Orphan AU and other simple but no less entertaining creations, and all the other fan content that had been created whether they be big like those or small like medukarrrabu's Mechanic!Ruby strips with their White Rose goodness and LongSean22's recent Tukson comic. And, being a fanfic writer, I have to give credit to writers such as the old faces who I read the first works of such as BlackenedHearts, Siderial, Isyys, Parabola Beam, and momoxtoshiro, many of whom continue to produce such amazing works to this day – and as many as three to four oneshots a week. And, of course, there's those who I referenced in my previous Soulbound such as TigerLilly22, knives4cash, Tear of Light, Gear001, and those who I didn't like NobleMETA, suomynonAX, and mikotyzini. Others you may not find here as there is BlindingPhoenix over in spacebattles with his RWBY/Crysis crossover Nanosuits and Soul Magic.

Despite my pride in Soulbound, it is only one small piece in the 7,000 fics that were made here with many times more fics and fanart found all over the internet. And there's always new talent and memorable works being made such as sanghelitat117, OOkami, and wazabi34. Other than attempting to give more substance to RWBY where it's lacking with my own ideas, I do enjoy trying to impart what creations that others have made long before me to honor their efforts and their enjoyment of RWBY that I know we all share. I can say that this won't be the last.

Until next time.