The quiet faunus looked uncertainly out at the crowd amassed in front of her from behind her mask. Signs were waving through the air as people chanted. All of them bared a beastly trait. The look of barely contained rage on each and every faunus in the crowd burned into her mind.

The air was slightly chilled, and the sky overcast. The shouts of the crowd echoed and bounced off the buildings in the town square, causing her ears to twitch every which way. A cold feeling twisted in her stomach at the frightened look of the humans that walked past the protest as they went about their day. It weighed heavily on the young woman. She felt that she shouldn't be urging them on. Shouldn't be incensing their anger and hatred.

But fighting was the only way to obtain peace, wasn't it?

'No.' She thought to herself. There had to be a different way, right? These protests were slowly becoming more and more chaotic. The last was just short of a riot. But rioting would drive their point home. It would solidify their stance in the community and tell everyone that they wouldn't be going anywhere. Wouldn't be backing down.

Yes. This was necessary. It was to break the chains that had been placed upon them. They would rise from oppression and fight back. Fight against those that thought them lesser beings for their differences. Her gaze hardened and she looked to her partner.

His red hair blazed in the sunlight and his short, sharp horns pointed towards the sky as he looked over the crowd. She couldn't see his dark eyes, for he wore a mask similar to hers, but she knew that his eyes were hard and angry just as they were every other time. His white T-shirt had three jagged rips across the stomach, as did hers.

"Are you ready, Blake?" He asked. She stroked a hand down the neck of her sleek, purple guitar before answering. It was a calming habit she had developed over the years. "I am."

He looked at her, seeming to study her for a moment before nodding and stepping up to his microphone. "Faunus of Vale!" At his call, the crowd quieted slightly. They all turned to look at the makeshift stage they were standing upon. "We are the White Fang! We are here to guide you in this time of struggle!" He yelled. Cheers rang through the town square, forcing Blake to press her ears against her head.

The White Fang were very well known amongst the faunus. They were seen as fighters for justice and equality. They had attended many protests and rallies, lending strength and spurring aggression through the music they expressed themselves with.

"Today, we will stand strong against these humans," He hissed the word as if it were a curse," And we will come out victorious."

Another resounding cheer echoed and he smiled. His smile was not happy or content, but proud and bloodthirsty. All clenched teeth and pulled back lips. "Let this song guide you through this hard time, and take strength from it. I have named it 'From Shadows', for the shadows are from which we rise. We will show them that we refuse to linger there any longer."

She couldn't contain the scowl that marred her features. She had named this song. Despite her indignation, when he started playing the sharp, aggressive tune that was the beginning of their song, she couldn't stop the tightening in her chest. She was powerless to hold back all of the anger and hurt that rose from her heart. It expanded, curling around every part of her. She felt that it should have been a fire, lighting her up and burning her away. Making her see red and lash out. But it was a dark and painful mass that clawed and bit it's way through her.

"Born with no life, into subjugation.

Treated like a worthless animal!"

Her voice rose out of her. The ripping pain combined with the hours of practice burst from her lips, almost against her will.

"Stripped of all rights, just a lesser being!

Crushed by cruel, ruthless human rule!"

Their voices mixed, her own strong voice taking the backseat to his powerful baritone.

"When it started, all we wanted was a chance to live our lives!

Now in darkness, taking anything we want and we will rise.

We'll rise!

We'll rise!"

The heavy bass of her guitar pulsed through her, grounding her. If she were any less aware, she would be fearful of floating away without it. The screams and cheers of the crowd sent her blood rushing, beating back the dark hatred.

"From Shadows, we'll descend upon the world, take back what you stole!

From Shadows, we'll reclaim our destiny, set our future free!

And we'll rise!

And we'll rise!

Above the darkness and the shame!

Above the torture and the pain!

Above the ridicule and hate!

Above the binding of our fate!"

Euphoria rushed through her and made her fingers tingle as she pressed down on the strings. As all the feelings of anger and hurt spilled from her lips, this warm comfort began to fill the holes it left. Her scowl had not lessened any, but felt free rather than upsetting.

"Call us liars, degenerates, and killers!

Psychos, heartless, insane criminals!"

"Stupid mutts and nothing but pure evil!

Primal bloodshed is all that's left to do!"

That line struck a sensitive place in her heart. She had added that part at Adam's insistence. Her warmth stopped its advance.

"We're misguided?

Treated like we're criminals and we should hide?

We're indicted!

Tired of being pushed around and we will fly!

We'll fly!

We'll fly!"

The songs new, twisted meaning began to take hold of her. The warmth was absent, but so was the clawing darkness. Instead, a cold realization came over her.

"From Shadows we'll descend upon the world.

From Shadows we'll reclaim our destiny."

Her voice began to taper off as she looked to the crowd. She saw that the looks of anger and aggression had morphed into bloodthirsty hatred under her influence. This was not right. They had taken people's trust in them and had used it to breed hate and violence instead of hope and comfort in this harsh time. This was so completely and disgustingly wrong that it made her stomach lurch. Her scowl fell into a look of regret. This wasn't what she wanted. This wasn't what they needed.

This was a mistake.

She turned to Adam. She had to tell him to calm them down or this would get out of hand. People could get hurt and even killed down there. But as their eyes connected, another wave of nausea rolled over her. This was what he wanted. She felt powerless to stop his next words.

"Rise brothers and sisters! Show them!" He screamed, knocking his microphone stand aside, his voice laced with so much hatred and madness. He had become the beast society had expected of him and he was urging others to do the same.

"Show them that we will no longer be pushed around! Show them that if this is what they expect from us, this is what they will get! They pushed us and pushed us, now push them into the ground and grind them down until they are nothing but dust!" He roared, his voice taking on an inhuman growl that was common to many of their faunus brothers and sisters.

They roared back. Not with words, but with their furious screams and growls.

Blake watched as the dam broke. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. The fearful humans that had lingered at the edges of the crowd were now in full scale panic as the enraged faunus charged them with murder and destruction in their eyes. She continued to watch the horrors of the riot. People were beaten or killed in front of her very eyes and all she could do was watch. She stood and she watched the fear and malice form into a maelstrom of violence that nothing short of the military could stop, her body frozen.

That burning fire that she had expected earlier chose this time to consume her. It knocked the sobs she hadn't been aware of away and left a growl in their wake. She turned on the man that had guided her and supported throughout her life. And when she did, she saw what he had become. He watched the crowd like she had, but the sorrow, regret, and disgust she had felt were much different than what he felt. A wide smile split his lips and he began to laugh. It was a hysterical and mad noise, and it set her flame to a blazing inferno.

"Adam!" She snarled. The edges of her vision were tinged red as she started towards him. "Can't you see what you have done!? What we have done!?" She shrieked. He turned towards her, smile still on his lips.

This was the man that had taken care of her for so many years. The one who had picked her up when she had fallen and bandaged her cuts and bruises, whether they were physical or emotional.

"We have given them the courage to fight! To conquer!"

"No! We have sentenced innocent people to death!"

"Those who die are too weak to fight with us anyways. It's better to be rid of them now than to carry their weight."

Her fists clenched as the fire burned hotter, "They relied on us-!"

He cut her off, his fist slamming into her cheek and knocking her to the ground. Her hand came up to her face in surprise at the unexpected blow. "You are just as weak. You're just as bad as the humans. You have no place with us if you sympathize with them." He spat, his eyes holding no more of the love and support she had seen in them throughout the years. Only insanity.

This was not the man she used to know. He had changed beyond recognition. He had become a monster.

The flames melted away her restraint as she lunged to her feet, dashing towards him with a punch of her own. He laughed as he batted her fist away, sending his into her stomach. She staggered back, trying to recover her breath after the winding strike but was met with another aimed at her face, pushing her back further. A metallic taste invaded her senses as she spat on his boots.

"You are weak, Blake Belladonna. I should've known better than to keep you by my side." He said, his manic expression finally turning to one of anger. A vicious growl escaped the injured woman as she lunged again. He smirked as he pushed away another one of her significantly smaller fists, but was not expecting it to end in a tackle. They writhed on the ground, arms swinging as they both growled and shouted, but Blake was used to fighting foes larger than her. It didn't take long for her to have the horned man pinned beneath her.

He brought his arms up to cover his face as the enraged woman unleashed her fury upon him. When she finally managed to pin his shoulders under her knees, she slammed her fist brutally into his face.

"I."

Slam. A punch to the eye that would have it swollen shut later.

"Am."

Crack. Blood spewed from his nose.

"Not."

Crunch. The bones in his jaw looked awkward and painful.

"WEAK"

She screamed her rage at him. It was only when she saw he was near unconsciousness, did she still her hands. The yelling and screeching of the crowd was still banging against her sensitive ears, but the pain solidified this moment even more. She looked at the bloody mess she had made, but could not find it in herself to feel regret or sympathy. He didn't deserve even that.

"You are the one who is weak." She panted, "You used people, innocent people, to start a war. You are a coward." she spat again, this time in his face, before she forced herself to her feet. She needed to help those in the riot. She needed to-

Suddenly all of her muscles locked at an intense burning sensation. This felt different than her anger, as this was quick and painful. She lost control of all her motor functions and fell stiffly to the ground. When the feeling finally left her and her muscles relaxed, she could not keep her grasp on consciousness. Shaking and shuddering, she tried to fend it off, but the darkness engulfed her vision and left her numb to the outside world.

The jingling of keys, followed by the rasp of metal scraping against metal alerted the silent woman to her visitors. Her gaze snapped up from the book in her hand to lock onto the trespassers, annoyed. This cell had been her sanctuary for the past three days and she did not take kindly to intrusions. A few of the guards had bruises to prove it. That said, she had some too. Her fight with Adam had not left her unscathed.

"Watch yourself. She's a feisty one." Said the burly guard as he led her visitor into the cell. She didn't mind him. He was quiet and didn't tease her as much as the others. The man that followed was strange, to say the least. His messy white hair fell carelessly around his face and a small pair of glasses with no practical use sat on the bridge of his nose. He walked with a cane, but had no noticeable limp. The only neat thing on his person was the expensive looking jacket that seemed tailored to fit perfectly, but even that was overshadowed by the old green scarf that wrapped loosely around his neck. The most noticeable thing about him was the massive purple bruise across his left cheek.

Blake watched them warily, but chose to keep her silence. The guard felt the need to point this out, "Quiet too. I don't think you're going to get any information out of her." He was right about that too. Despite the policemen and interrogators that told her it was incriminating, she had refused to speak of the incident that had led to her incarceration. She had spent her days in the jail cell in near-silent contemplation. Her internal battles were her own, and she refused to voice them aloud.

"That is quite alright." He said, giving the guard a professional smile. "But, if you don't mind, I would like to have a word with miss Belladonna. Alone, preferably." He suggested. His voice was a firm tenor and he had a slight accent that Blake couldn't place. The guard looked uncomfortable at his suggestion. "I really don't think that's a good idea…"

"I assure you that I can handle myself." He pressed. The guard stayed quiet for a moment before he sighed tiredly, "Fine. You have thirty minutes." The stranger smiled at him. The guard seemed hesitant, even though he had already agreed. Finally, he grumbled to himself and left the two alone.

The remaining two stared at each other. His eyes scanned every piece of her being, making her feel like hiding herself in the blanket. Blake held his gaze anyways. She didn't know who this man was and wasn't about to let her guard down. She was content with this staring match. The more time he spent looking at her, the less time he had to talk. She was sure that it was something she didn't care to hear anyways.

"Miss Belladonna. I hav-"

"Save it." She interrupted firmly, "I'm not going to talk about what happened."

He persevered, despite her quietly hostile tone, "Miss Belladonna, I have a proposition for you." She narrowed her eyes. Another plea deal. Typical. "I'm not interested." She told him, folding her arms. He raised an eyebrow, resting both of his hands on his cane, "You haven't even listened to what I have to say."

Blake growled quietly, finally closing her book and setting it down on the bed with the realization that the interruption would last for a while. "No. I haven't. And I don't want to. I want you people to leave me alone. I have refused to speak of it this far, and I will continue to do so." Her fists clenched and unclenched. The black beast was rearing it's ugly head. "Are you unable to get it through your thick fucking skulls that I would rather rot here than speak?!" Her breathing was uneven as she glared at him, hoping that if her words were unheard yet again, the threat in her eyes would get her point across.

"My deal has nothing to do with the information you seem to hold so close."

"I said-!"She stopped short, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Her head tipped slightly to the side as she looked closer. His face was expressionless. Nothing could be gained from his slightly slouched posture either. "What do you mean?" She asked slowly.

His face finally portrayed a bit of emotion. He smiled. "I will… remove… your counts of Inciting a Riot, Disturbing The Peace, and Carrying a Concealed Weapon. Plus all of your warrants." Her eyes narrowed further, suspicion warring with hope. "What's the catch?"

His smile grew. "Smart."

The man closed half of the distance between them before sitting cross-legged on the cold concrete floor. "My name is Ozpin and I am the CEO of Beacon records." He announced. This only served to further the woman's confusion. He was just full of surprises, wasn't he? "I saw your performance in town square," He gestured to his cheek, "And I must say, I was impressed."

Blake felt as though all the warmth had drained from her body at the mention of the incident. She forced herself to hold back a shiver. He had felt the rage of the crowd and could still say he was impressed? If anything, he should hate her for what she had done. "The influence and passion you held was absolutely stunning. My offer is simple. I would like you to work for my company."

He chuckled softly as she looked at him as though he had grown three heads, but continued. "I only ask for a month. At the end of the month you may go your own way, free of all warrants and other binds. But if you decide that you enjoyed your time with us, you may continue your career with Beacon."

She looked at him, barely suppressing the urge to pinch herself to see if she were dreaming. Her heart pounded erratically in her chest. She was definitely dreaming. Her eyes looked around the cell, searching for hidden cameras or people listening in. If it wasn't a dream, it had to be some sick prank.

She gathered her wits and swallowed hard, feeling as though she had a mouthful of sand. "Why me?" She asked, searching his face. She only found a cold calculating, honesty. "Trust me. It is for my own benefit. It is not everyday I find someone like you. You have no talent." Blake's ears flattened against her head and she opened her mouth to snap something rude at him, but he held up his hand. "You have no talent whatsoever. What you have is skill. What you have is built upon your own hard work, passion, and perseverance." She closed her mouth. The hairs rose on the back of her neck at how well he read her. This was the first time she had ever met this man and she felt as though he had read her life story with those analytical eyes. "I am giving you this invitation because I know you have what it takes to be a valuable asset to Beacon."

She stayed silent for a few long minutes. He sat quietly, seemingly content with letting her think and, for that, she was incredibly grateful. She forced her mind to break through the seemingly impenetrable wall of shock to sort through the pros and cons of this decision. It settled her nerves when things were made into facts. His offer seemed to be a clear decision, but he could be leaving things out. And if he was being honest? She could barely wrap her head around that. It promised freedom. The very thought of it made butterflies flutter in her stomach. No one could control her. No one could tell her what to do. No one could breath down her neck and ridicule her mistakes.

But could she take the chance? Could she risk the crushing disappointment if it turned out to be the wrong choice?

She was released within the hour.

AN: Thank you so much for all of the favorites and follows! I honestly wasn't expecting so many and I really appreciate it. Let me know what you think or what I should work on if you have the time. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Until next time friends.

-Vox