Chapter 1
It was late in the evening when the proprietor of From Dust 'Til Dawn was able to sit down for a few minutes to rest his aching feet and knees. Still, it was but a small price to pay. The reward was worth it.
Callous though it might be, the senior citizen could honestly say that the recent robbery of Vale's central Hunter armory was one of the best things that could have happened to him. After all, it had resulted in him acquiring a lot of customers, as Hunters and students from the nearby academies alike frequented the commercial shops in lieu of stocking up at the armory. The bad news was, well... that he had a lot of customers buying Dust. The line had been nearly out the door all day. Still, the healthy amount of lien stuffing his cash register did more than enough to assuage his pain.
"If this keeps up I'm going to need to hire a cashier…" he chuckled goodnaturedly. He was roused from his happy state by the tinkling of the doorbell, prompting him to look up.
He immediately stiffened in alarm and snapped to his feet at the sight of four men dressed in identical black suits and hats wearing red ties and sunglasses strolling into his store. Leading them was a tall, orange-haired, impeccably-dressed man in a cream-colored suit, a cane in one hand and a cigar held to his mouth with the other. They were clearly shady, and not just because most of them were wearing sunglasses at night. The way that they were all hungrily eyeing his remaining stock did little to help matters.
The tall man flicked his cigar and blew out a cloud of smoke as he casually leaned on the display counter. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a Dust shop open this late?" The man drawled. The owner's blood practically froze when one of the suited men drew a gun from behind his back and pointed it at his face.
"P-please! Just take my Lien and leave!" The old man stuttered, before the lead man silenced him with a raised finger.
"Shhh, shhh, shhh, shhh, calm down, we're not here for your money," he said, his face apologetic before hardening into a determined scowl. "Grab the dust."
The henchmen promptly fanned out. One pulled out a case full of cylindrical storage containers, offering them to two others who then walked up to the tubes of powdered Dust that lined the wall and began siphoning it into the cylinders. The old man jumped as another slammed another open case on the counter.
"Crystals. Burn. Uncut," he grunted. Clearly a man of few words. The old man nodded mutely, opening the cabinet and moving the crystals into the box.
The third henchman ducked behind the racks of magazines, music CDs, and sundry other goods, leaving the fourth standing in the doorway to keep an eye on the street.
"All clear, boss," Henchman #3 reported. "No one else in the shop."
Roman smiled, a content grin on his face. "Ah, I love it when a heist comes together. Oh, and I have to hand it to you, Old Man, you replenish your wares quickly. I mean, you're the only store I've visited tonight that was fully stocked with Dust. The rest of the stores we've cracked into have been practically empty."
Meanwhile, Henchman #4 was somewhat bored. This late at night, most of Vale was devoid of pedestrian traffic. He didn't see why he had to stand out here in the chilly night air doing nothing while his buddies got to loot the nice, warm, well-lit store. After all, it was the ass-end of the evening and they were all packing! No way in Remnant would anyone be stupid enough to try and-!
"Excuse me? Could you please move? You're blocking the door."
Henchman #4 started in surprise when he noticed the black-haired young man not five feet away from him. How this kid snuck up on him with those white pants, he didn't know. Pride wounded at that thought, he drew himself up and puffed out his chest. "Beat it, kid, before you get hurt."
The kid slowly blinked his pink eyes before leaning around the goon's hulking figure to look into the shop. He caught sight of the henchman who was still receiving crystals from the hard-pressed proprietor before locking eyes with Torchwick, who narrowed his eyes menacingly in return as he took in a drag from his cigar.
Lie Ren was silent for a moment before sighing explosively. "This is the last time I act as a porter for Nora when she goes shopping the same day I need to get more ammo..." he groaned, cradling his face in his hand.
By now, Henchman #4 was completely fed up with the whole situation. He was cold, bored, and now this kid was more interested in griping about his sister or girlfriend or something despite the armed thug in front of him. He was supposed to be intimidating, dammit! Reaching forward, Henchman #4 tried to grab the brat's arm to throw him against a wall or drag him into an alley or... or... something!
Key word being 'tried'. Roman could only watch in reluctant fascination as Ren grabbed his hapless thug by the arm and somehow flipped him over his shoulder, through the plate glass window that made up the storefront and into the back wall.
Silence reigned in the shop as Roman glared at the newly arrived nuisance. He shot a sharp look at the other underlings he had with him when he noticed them staring at the source of the commotion. "Well?" He demanded. "Get him!"
Ren grit his teeth as the other three goons dropped what they were holding and charged him with their weapons drawn. 'Alright...' He thought as he snapped his hands to his Stormflowers. 'Three enemies, human, each wielding a cleave-oriented shortsword. Should be simple enough.' He whipped his bladed submachine guns up at his opponents... and mentally cursed when he felt how un-heavy his weapons were. 'Or not. Sorry, sensei, I know I'm supposed to be diversifying my fighting style, but...'
Luckily, his enemies were not terribly coordinated in their assault, as displayed by one of them getting within melee range ahead of his fellows. Ren stepped into the overhand chop, clamping down on the blade arm and driving the other into the goon's solar plexus. As his opponent hunched over, wheezing, Ren grabbed a handful of his shirt, whipping the goon he was holding into one of the others charging him, bowling them both over.
Ducking as the third henchman whipped his blade through the space his head used to be, Ren turned the momentum into a high axe kick that caught his opponent in the crown of his skull, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. Ren made to turn towards the last goon... and almost froze when he caught sight of the SN-39 10mm said henchman was pointing at him.
Training took over then. Against guns, get in close. Boosting his legs with his aura, he dashed in, the henchman's first shot sailing over his head. He never got a chance for a second, as by then Ren was in his face, delivering a rapid-fire series of palm strikes to the chest that ended with him slamming against the wall.
Ren turned back towards Roman and began considering his options. Being the leader, he had to be stronger than those goons, and martial arts expert or not, Ren did not feel comfortable fighting him without every option available.
"Er... excuse me, but would these help?"
He was snapped out of his thoughts by the shop owner's hesitant voice piping up from behind the shop's counter. Ren was pleasantly surprised when he noticed the clips of Dust rounds that the old man was proferring to him.
"Thank you." Ren nodded in thanks as he took the clips and snapped them into the magazines of his Stormflowers. "How much do I owe you?"
"T-they're on the house..."
"You're too kind..." Ren nodded gratefully.
"Well, you were worth every cent. Truly you were," Roman sneered down at the men groaning around them. "Well, kid, I'd love to stick around, but I've got an appointment to meet." The sight on his Melodic Cudgel popped up and Roman sent one of his trademark explosive shots at Ren's. His target jumped, letting the shot detonate where he'd been standing as he flipped back onto the store's counter.
"What are you doing!?" the shopkeeper shouted in near panic. "Do you know how much Dust is in here?! If it went up-!"
"Oh, I know exactly how much is in here," Roman replied darkly, grinning sadistically as he slowly aimed his cane at the tubes of Dust powder lining the wall. "I'd tell you to enjoy the fireworks, but you won't be around to appreciate them!" And with that, Roman fired at the tubes before booking it out the door.
Eyes wide, Ren grabbed the shopkeeper, pushed as much aura into his legs as he could spare from defense, and leapt off the counter through the shattered window. Just in time for Roman's shot to ignite the mass of powdered Dust. The resulting explosion completely blew out the storefront, buffeting Ren with kinetic force but surprisingly little shrapnel. Thankfully, the old man was none the worse for the wear.
Ren took a moment to stop the world from spinning before looking up and catching sight of Torchwick scrambling his way up a nearby fire escape.
"You alright?" Ren asked the shopkeeper, getting a shaky nod in return. "Good. You should call the fire department before the fire spreads." Getting another nod in return, Ren shot to his feet and darted after Torchwick, shooting up the fire escape like a Beowolf with its tail on fire, circumventing the flights of stairs by flipping up them.
He caught up with Torchwick at the top of the escape, but was forced backwards due to a savage swing from the criminal's cane, which visibly dented the guardrail.
Ren backed away slightly, not willing to get within range of Torchwick's cane. Torchwick, for his part, seemed content to play the waiting game. "Well, points for persistence, kid. You've just caused me more trouble tonight than the entirety of the Vale PD has in the past month. And frankly? That annoys me." The orange-haired man scowled and flicked his cane into a ready position. "I don't. Like. Annoyances!"
Ren tensed, ready to move, which proved fortunate as Torchwick fired a spread of three shots. Weaving around the blasts, Ren pulled out his Stormflowers, sending a burst of Dust projectiles downrange and forcing Torchwick back. The back and forth continued for a few minutes until Torchwick was backed onto the edge of the rooftop.
"Oops, guess I'm trapped," Torchwick said, his tone at odds with his precarious position. "Or perhaps not." To Ren's shock, Torchwick took a step back and dropped off the building. He didn't have long to recover before the telltale whine of jet engines filled the air and a Bullhead assault aircraft lifted up above the rooftops.
"End of the line, kid!" Torchwick shouted over the engines, digging a spare Dust crystal from his pocket with his free hand and lobbing it at the teenager before following it up with one last, extra-large shot. He grinned as the massive fireball engulfed most of the rooftop. No way the kid dodged that.
His grin fell when the smoke and flame cleared to reveal a glowing runic glyph in front of Ren, as well as a figure he recognized all too well.
"Shit, Glynda Goodwitch," he swore under his breath before snapping his head towards the ship's cockpit. "Get us out of here!"
The pilot nodded, and the Bullhead began to rise... for all of three seconds until it was enveloped in a furious purple aura.
Torchwick stumbled as the ship shuddered to a halt. Acting swiftly, he dug his Scroll out of his pocket, tapped a number and brought it to his ear. "Hey, Boss? It's me. No no, things have been going great, we got a lot of loot! I'll give you the dropoff point when I get back. But... well, we've run into a bit of a snag… No, not that kind of snag, the other kind!" He bit out a curse when the Bullhead started to slowly drift towards the rooftop. "The kind with the ungodly amount of aura! I know that you don't like me giving you orders, but just this once, how about you make an exception? Help me, damn it!"
-o-
Glynda Goodwitch fed a bit more aura into the holding spell she had on the Bullhead. The Crimson Thorns had likely souped up the engines, because it was taking rather more effort than usual to pull the aircraft in. Still, she had aura to spare, and she knew she probably wouldn't get another chance to apprehend the man behind the Dust robberies any time soon, if at all.
She spared a glance at the Lie kid. She knew who he was, of course, she'd interviewed him herself. One of the students that had graduated from Signal this year and was entering Beacon. Seeing as he had made the entirely sensible choice to take cover behind a large air conditioning unit, he would most likely do well.
Turning her full attention back to the Bullhead, she yanked it closer. Now only a few feet from the rooftop, it would not be long before it would be on the ground and the occupants in custody.
Suddenly, without warning, her Aura-fueled instincts screamed, and she hastily flung up a barrier glyph to her left. The action was none too soon, as it was promptly shattered. Nevertheless the impact was strong enough to deflect the projectile that had struck it entirely.
Goodwitch scanned her surroundings, searching for the source of the powerful shot and found...
'Nothing!?' Her eyes widened in shock. 'But how-!?'
The educator was given no chance to rest as more blasts suddenly shot at her from practically thin air, forcing her to continue throwing up glyph after glyph and barrier after barrier in order to ward off the ungodly powerful missiles that were being fired at her. The speed of the assault and the fact that she could even see one or two of them ricochet off one of the neighboring buildings and still go right for her worked to obscure the location of her enemy. For a few seconds, she was able to both deflect the shots and still hold onto the Bullhead, a feat of multitasking most people would have considered impossible. But Glynda Goodwitch was not 'most people'.
And then her instincts screamed again. This time, though, the target wasn't Glynda.
Glynda had but a second to consider her options before coming to a decision.
Left with no choice, Glynda let the Bullhead go with a growl and instead threw up additional barrier glyphs in front of the air conditioning unit Ren was hiding behind moments before they impacted. The blast, and the two follow-up shots, glanced off the barriers, but the damage was done. By the time the sniper stopped firing, the Bullhead was a barely visible speck near the horizon.
Glynda tamped down her frustration, and dismissed the glyphs before the Aura drain got too onerous. Ren, meanwhile, poked his head out from behind his cover, a slightly bewildered expression plastered on his face. "What just happened?" He panted.
-o-
The MD Towers were widely considered one of the crowning achievements of modern technology. And for good reason. Each tower allowed instant communication with all four kingdoms, a tremendous advantage for a society under siege. Being communications towers, they also had commanding views of the skylines. Which made them very useful for less… savory tasks.
Ruby Rose sat up from her prone position, unlatched the scope she'd added to her weapon's shaft, grabbed a bottle of water and poured it over Crescent Rose's barrel. Steam bloomed as the water absorbed the heat from firing so many high-powered shots so quickly. A tentative poke yielded no burned fingers, prompting her to sigh in relief. The last thing she needed was to take the time to replace her precious instrument's components due to being warped by the heat.
On that note…
Taking her Scroll out of a pocket, she quickly dialed a number and brought it to her ear.
"Torchwick. I told you to be careful, not get in a fight with Glynda Goodwitch. What. The hell. Happened!?"
"Excuse me for not expecting a Hunter trainee to show up at this time of night! All the sane brats stocked up a week in advance for their stupid initiation! I don't know where this brat came from!"
Ruby pursed her lips in thought before speaking again. "Swing by the drop point, collect the Dust and return to the hideout. The rest of the Strategos and I will examine this matter ourselves. You'd better hope that we come to a satisfying conclusion... for your sake."
She hung up before he could respond and promptly dropped off the edge of the tower.
-o-
Ren shifted in the chair for the fifth time in as many minutes. What was it about government-issued chairs that made them so uncomfortable? Miss Goodwitch walking into the room and taking a seat across from him was practically welcome by this point.
"Lie Ren. We've corroborated your story with the shopkeeper who was robbed," she said, looking through a stack of documents shed brought with her. "They line up perfectly, so I don't believe I need to keep you here any longer. I would have preferred it if you had stayed out of this whole mess, but you will be a student at Beacon, and that tends to attract certain… personality types not well suited for staying out of such situations. I'll see you tomorrow, I think. Good luck, Mr. Lie."
Ren nodded, and made his way out of the briefing room. Glynda passed a few moments looking through the documents before she smelled the scent of coffee.
"It's her, Ozpin."
"Her who, Glynda?" Ozpin asked nonchalantly.
Glynda whirled on Ozpin, her face furious. "You know exactly who, Ozpin!" She snarled, her aura flaring up and down her riding crop. "No one else has been able to achieve that degree of accuracy with that high caliber a rifle in years! It's her. It has to be her."
Ozpin stared morosely as he unflinchingly took a sip from his mug.
Glynda shook furiously for a moment before sighing heavily and letting her anger simply... flow out of her as she sank back into her chair. "All four of them, Ozpin. One after another... They were our four best..." She looked up at him with numb desperation. "How could we have failed them so... so miserably?"
The headmaster's silence continued as he stared at nothing for a moment before speaking. "Ruby Rose. Weiss Schnee. Blake Belladonna. Yang Xiao Long. Looking back... In all honesty..." He sighed before taking a deep, deep swig from his mug. "I question whether we ever had a chance of success with any of them in the first place..."
Glynda didn't reply. There was… simply nothing else to say.
All that remained between the long-time colleagues was a deep, depressed silence.
-o-
"No."
Yang's eye twitched slightly as she stared at the person who had just denied her. Dressed in a military uniform festooned with medals and ribbons, General Sacre was not an overweight paper-pusher like most of Mistral's generals. This was a man who had seen action, a lot of it, and had kept himself sharp even after stepping away from the battlefield. His office reflected this even better, painted grey and sparsely decorated with a worn desk and a set of filing cabinets. The only nods to aesthetics were the general's leather office chair and a large oil painting of an old Mistral battlefield hung on one wall.
Internally, Yang was furious, ready to slam the old geezer up against a wall and make him beg for mercy. How dare he stand in the way of her goals? In the way of their goals?! The mere notion was... was...! But no. Now wasn't the time for that. They weren't past the time of no return quite yet. They could still reach an acceptable conclusion. As such, now was the time for her to maintain her trademark (or it would be, if Weiss would just give her the money) grin and remain nice and civil. Or at the very least, her version of it.
"Aw c'mon, Sacrey!" She pleaded, clasping her hands together. "Just-!"
"My name is General Azul Sacre." The old commander growled darkly in a tone that brooked no argument.
Yang's grin tightened minutely. "General Sacre," She corrected before sighing and giving him a pleading look. "Listen, General. You need to face facts: The White Fang are becoming less and less tolerant of anyone who so much as laughs at a funny cat video, the Crimson Thorns are getting more and more blatant with their crimes, and don't even get me started on the rate of Grimm attacks. The world is becoming more and more dangerous, it's an undeniable truth!"
"Mistral has effectively weathered greater dangers in the past," Sacre rumbled firmly. "And it will continue to do so in the future."
"But we could do it together!" Yang exclaimed. "Come on, General! Think about it! The Dust Devils field some of, if not the strongest fighters in all of Remnant! We have members from every kingdom - Mistral included! - and every academy known to man! We're sporting a small army! Heck, I'd even go so far as to classify it as a slightly above average one! Imagine it! With Mistral's legendary discipline and our unmitigated strength, your kingdom wouldn't have to fear anyone or anything ever again!"
"I'll give you points for not mentioning that every company worth mentioning and all three other kingdoms have hired you at some point or another," the General snorted.
"I was just getting to that, actually!" Yang laughed good-naturedly. "And you're right! Most everyone who's anyone either employs some of my men or has a contract to call on us when they need help!"
"Hmph..." General Sacre grumbled. "I suppose that most would call these accomplishments of yours impressive..."
"Aww, thanks Sac-!"
"Except..." Sacre continued, rising to his feet and towering above the blonde imperiously. "I am not 'most people'."
Yang blinked in confusion. "Uh...?"
The General started to slowly pace about the room. "General Xiao Long..."
"Please, please!" She waved her hand airily. "Call me Yang!"
"General Xiao Long." Sacre continued firmly. "I don't know why you're so eager to have my government hire your Dust Devils. You're already one of the most powerful people on Remnant, head of a military force rivaling anything the Four Kingdoms can muster. That someone with so much power keeps pushing so hard for more... well, that makes me very suspicious. I don't know what you're planning, or even if you're planning anything, but the fact of the matter is that I find you and your organization to be wholly suspect. Call it... an old soldier's instinct."
The general stopped his pacing and glared at the blonde brawler. "Nevertheless, one way or another, I will guarantee you this: on my word of honor, I promise that so long as I serve as a general for the exalted kingdom of Mistral, I will see to it that the Dust Devils will never be formally hired by my nation."
Yang's expression remained frozen for a moment until she slowly allowed her smile to slide into an unreadable frown. "Is that so?" She asked slowly.
"It is."
"... and if I were to take this up with any of the other Generals?" She asked solemnly.
"Then I would inform them of my opinion, and they would undoubtedly heed my superior experience." Sacre stated flatly. "I am sorry, General Xiao Long. I can appreciate what you have done, but the fact remains that you are not welcome here. Now then..." He gestured at the door. "I believe it's time for you to leave."
Nodding slowly, Yang stood up and started to stride towards the door. "Personally, general, I think you're doing your nation a disservice." She stepped into the doorway and halted, her hand resting on the doorknob. "For the record, General... I'm sorry too."
General Sacre narrowed his eyes in confusion. "And why is that?"
Yang glanced over her shoulder, allowing the general to catch sight of her eye flashing crimson. "Because it's such a tragedy that a pack of Rikitiks broke in here and managed to slaughter you before anyone could do anything. A real crying shame. But, ah well! Who knows? Maybe I can play it to my advantage. Maybe the next general I speak to will be more... appreciative."
Yang slammed the door shut before the general could respond.
Azul Sacre stared at the door in numb shock for a moment, but before he could do anything more...
"GYAH!"
He let out a cry of shock when something hooked its way into his collar, yanking his neck down and around.
The last thing he saw was a large, manic grin, a flash of metal, and then...
"YEEEEAAAARGH!"
Yang whistled a jaunty tune as she leaned against the office door, tapping her foot impatiently.
"GYEAGH! OH GOD! STOP! STOP! FOR THE LOVE OF REMNANT, STO-AAAAGHH!"
The foot tapping picked up speed as Yang pulled a small toolkit out of her pocket, withdrew a thin adjusting rod, and began to tinker with the inner workings of her Ember Celica.
"WH-WHAT ARE YOU-!? AAAAH! MY ARM! MY AAARM! WHY!?"
Satisfied with the condition of her weapons, Yang then pulled out her Scroll and began flicking through her text messages, idly checking them one after another and occasionally returning a response.
"PLEASE! MERCY! MER-GAAAAGRCHK!"
Suddenly, Yang's scroll began to vibrate. Pleasantly surprised, the brawler tapped the screen before bringing the device to her ear. "Hey sis, what's up? How're things-?"
"AAAH! NO! THAT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE POSSIBLE! HOW-AAAAAH!"
"Eurgh, hang on a second..." Yang rammed her fist against the door. "HEY, I'VE GOT A CALL! WRAP IT UP IN THERE!"
"NONONONON-YEEEEAAAARGGggrrrrghhh..."
The General's voice drew out into a wet gurgle, then fell silent.
Finally, the door swung open, and a petite woman strutted out, humming a chirpy tune as she twirled a parasol she had propped up on her shoulder.
Yang glanced into the room and whistled appreciatively. "Daaamn... fine work! Seriously, I'm impressed!"
The woman's smile widened visibly as she swung her arms out and fell into a curtsey.
"Well, anyways, you go ahead and do what you do, I gotta take this," Yang smiled before turning thoughtful. "Oh, and Neo? You've got a bit of small intestine on your..."
The triple-toned girl glanced upwards and casually flicked the bit of flesh hanging off of her bangs before shooting a curious look at her superior.
"Yeah, you got it."
Neo's smile returned full force as she snapped off a casual salute before skipping away to locations unknown.
Yang brought the phone back to her ear. "Alright, there we go. So, what's got you calling during business hours, Ruby?"
"I GOT SEEN!" Ruby's voice shrieked out of the speaker. "Or I got found out or made or... or... one of them! I blew it, and now Goodwitch knows who I am, and Weiss is going to yell at me and Blake won't let me stroke her ears and-and-and-!"
"Whoa, whoa, calm down, sis. Deep breaths," Yang soothed hastily, slowly moving her hand to and from her chest. "In and out, sis, in and..." She trailed off as she noticed the background noise coming over the connection. "...Ruby, are you stress-hunting again?"
"...Maybe?"
Yang let out a tired groan as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Damn it Ruby, how many times do I have to remind you? We use the buddy system when hunting in case we wander into any of the older Grimm! You know this!"
"But the sound of Beowolf bones breaking is sooo soothing..."
"Then just... I don't know, shred a few muggers or hobos or something! I'm sure there are plenty of those in Vale!" Yang waved her hand helplessly for a moment before sighing. "Ugh, whatever... anyways... what do you mean you 'got seen'?"
"I might have been exaggerating… just a tad. Roman got made while he was pulling a heist and I needed to step in and rescue him."
Yang snickered. "Heh. Pretty boy got taken down a notch, huh?"
"Hey! I'll be the first to admit that Torchwick is arrogant and a jerk and really really mean, but I can't deny he gets the job done! He got a lot of Dust before everything went south."
"Yeah yeah yeah... Anyways, how exactly did Wickless screw up?"
"That's... actually the thing." The sound of muted explosions tapered off into rushing leaves, a noise Yang recognized as her sister distancing herself from a fight by rising up into the treeline. "It was a Hunter. Or, one in training, at least."
"Ha!" Yang barked. "Wickless got his ass beat by a trainee? Oh, that I am so going to tease him over that!" She suddenly turned serious. "And what about Goodwitch? How does she factor in?"
"The trainee didn't exactly 'beat' Torchwick's ass. He delayed him long enough for Goodwitch to catch up to him and grab his Bullhead. I distracted her by taking a few potshots at the two of them, but..."
"Right..." Yang sighed wearily as she ground her palm into her forehead. "Best damn sniper in Beacon, I remember. And so do Goodwitch, Ozpin, Port and every other member of the faculty. Damn it..."
Silence reigned over the pair until Yang spoke again. "So, what do we do with him?"
"...I'm going to call Weiss and Blake and tell them what happened. After that... well, the Beacon initiation ceremony is the day after tomorrow, right?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, I didn't actually see this trainee fight, so I want to know if he's as good as Roman claims he is. I'm thinking that we all have a bit of a... 'movie night'. We get together, lay back, relax and have some fun watching a bunch of teenagers fight for their lives."
"Ooooh, I get it!" Yang snapped her fingers in comprehension. "If the rookie gets accepted into Beacon, then Torchwick more or less fought a fully-fledged hunter and he actually has a reason to whine for once!"
"And if the rookie loses... well..." Ruby's voice took on a dark tone. "I compromised myself to save him, Yang. He'd better hope that there was legitimate reason for me to do that."
"I hear you, sis, I hear you." Yang nodded solemnly in agreement before groaning and cracking her back. "Aaaaanyways, I've had a hell of a day. I'm gonna clean things up here, tie up a few loose ends and then turn in, alright?"
"Yeah, yeah, alright. Talk to you later. Oh, and Yang?"
"Yeah, little sis?"
"Thanks for calming me down."
"Any time, Ruby. Any time." And with that, Yang cut the connection. She then closed her eyes and allowed her face to become calm and neutral.
When she opened her eyes again a second later, they were sad and haunted, and her face bore a gaunt expression of horror. "G-general Aconit?" She stammered in a grief-stricken voice. "T-this is General Yang Xiao Long, of the Dust Devil Freelancer Company. I-I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry, I... I can't believe that I let this happen. I... it's General Sacre. I... I'm afraid that he's dead. I-It was so fast, I only left the room for a second-! Rikitiks. A whole pack of them. I... I've never seen anything like it, there isn't even a body left... I'd heard that they were bad, but I never imagined that they could tunnel so far, move so fast… No, thank you. He-he deserved nothing less… Yes, I'll be there. Send me an RSVP, okay? W-we'll try and save as much as we can. I... yes. See you then. Thank you. Goodbye."
Once she was finished, Yang snapped back to her cheerful expression and looked over her shoulder at the smiling woman behind her. "What do you think? Convincing enough, or should I throw in some tears?"
Neo beamed and gave her a pair of thumbs up.
"Awesome."