"Following this 'peace' agreement, many citizens are left with more questions than answers. What happened? Why did our protectors give up? Were the Anathema controlling them? And how much danger are we in with the Menagerie being so clor-"

Ilia turned off the tv and leaned back in her arm chair. She squeezed the remote hard enough to make the plastic groan. If that was how VNN had reacted, she didn't even need to bother checking ORE 'news'. They'd be screaming that the Faunus were going to invade Mistral. Great, just great. Perfect way to start the day.

She spent the better part of a minute getting out of the chair and another few finding her formal coat. It was buried deep in her closet, where anyone randomly looking in wouldn't be able to find it. As far as most people knew, she was just a normal, human Huntress who came to Vale to help them in their time of need.

The coat was all white with the symbol of the White Fang emblazoned on the back. It wasn't practical to have, either for her disguise or if she got into a fight, but was important for today. After putting it on, she stared at a mirror. Was this a bright green skin and blue hair day? Red and purple? Jet black? She cycled through each of those and many others before landing on brick and gray. Very similar to the Fang's colors, but more subdued in a way that would make her coat pop.

Yeah… It was time.

Or, maybe, brush her hair again. The end of her ponytail wasn't curling just the way she liked it.

No, no… that wouldn't help anything; arriving promptly and having good news would.

The challenge of the day… no, the week… no, the month was burning a hole in her pocket. A letter that was hidden under a water fountain in Beacon's lower depths.

She closed her blinds, dimmed the lights, and connected.

"Ilia, report." Sienna Khan, the High Leader, said as soon as she appeared on screen. She was sitting in her throne room with full attention on Ilia despite the difference in time zones. The blue of the hologram made her tiger stripe tattoos blend in with the rest of her skin, running the effect. Blue on blue on blue didn't look good on anyone.

"I-... I've received her message and…" Illia took a deep breath and clenched her teeth. "Are we certain this is a good idea, ma'am?"

The High Leader glared down at her. "What was the message?"

"She wants us to attack on the second day of the Moonless Festival."

"And she has accepted our demands for this risk?"

"She hasn't specified." It was a simple enough agreement. In return for the White Fang risking themselves by getting her out and providing a safe haven, Cinder Fall would openly support them in their battle against the kingdoms and teach their members what she could.

"Hmm," She drummed her fingers on the armrest of her throne. "That does not give us much time. Will you be able to pass another message along before then?"

Iila looked down while she thought. Beacon's Hunters didn't let any of the volunteers in on their big meetings, but that didn't mean that they didn't gossip. "Maybe. More Hunters are showing up and I heard that one of their best arrived yesterday. I'm not sure how much time we have."

"Make sure she receives our response before then. If she accepts, then we spring her attack."

"Ma'am, I-!" Ilia started shouting before slinking back from the High Leader's glare. "I don't understand why we're risking so much for some human who… who… who will just"

She withered as the High Leader cleared her throat and leaned forward. "Ilia, do you think I'm an idiot?"

"No! Of cours-"

"Then why are you still questioning your orders?" The High Leader leaned forward. "We need the alliance with an Anathema and Cinder Fall is the only one willing to work with us."

"For how long? She's going to betray us!"

"Of course she will. But if she's even considering this agreement after what happened with Adam, it means that she's desperate. She'll turn on us, but only after we've broken our mutual enemies."

Ilia took a breath. That sounded incredibly risky to her, but… the High Leader knew more than she did. There had to be something else going on to work with someone like that.

"We cannot be left defenseless when the strongest group is controlled by a traitor and a Schnee. If that means watching our backs until a true Champion of Luna appears, then that is what we must do."

Ilia nodded, shuddering at the mention of Blake. It was… it was so unfair she could feel her skin changing to red just from the thought. "I hear and will obey."

"Do not disappoint me Ilia."


In a well-lit office, documents gilded with gold and silver were stacked to the ceiling. Their titles ranged from 'Decreased Accumulation of Sediment within the Hadalpelagic Zone' to 'Movements of the 176th Army of the Dead'. Most of them, if anyone bothered to check the date of submission, were multiple centuries old. More flowed in every hour; scroll tubes, books, and boxes dropped unceremoniously in the southern wing where a blue faced monkey wearing a silver robe whose every fiber glistened with intricately woven phrases sat. The other desks nearby were empty, even as more paperwork overflowed.

Min-Ji, Arkanan God of Primates and Poetry, sighed as he ran into another message that he'd need to handle. A report on weather patterns of planet Troth was in his pile. That would need to be forwarded to the Bureau of Seasons, where it wouldn't be his problem, but it would take hours to convince whoever dropped it off that they delivered it to the wrong office. Troth had not fallen. Not yet anyway.

Maybe he simply didn't notice it until next year. Everyone knew that the Ministry of Rogue Worlds was so far behind on their paperwork that no one bothered to check on them anymore. That they were working on their pre-Calibration report two weeks before it was needed would already shock the Bureau of Seasons.

He licked his lips, moving another pointless battle report with his tail. A century ago, he had been respected. He held dominion over the most important artform of the Arkanan continent of planet Bruxia and also the most sacred of their creatures. Every day began with a beautiful verse from his high priest and a slice of a Peach of Immortality. To eat a whole peach per day would have bankrupted him, but there was simply nothing that compared to them. A flavor that he had given one of his favored mortals a taste of once and ruined all fruit for the man's extended life.

It had been decades since he had tasted one and his mouth watered at the memory.

Since Arkan fell to the underworld, the only poetry he could read was macabre and so boring. It detailed the pain of humans who lived short, painful lives as the Leper of Anointed Sores infected them. Supposedly, the Leper was nothing more than a 'powerful ghost'. He was more likely one of the lesser death gods who wanted to rise above his station or, maybe, the champion of one.

All of the gods of Arkanan petitioned for the Aerial Legion to be deployed to deal with the invasion, but the Lord of All Bruxia declared that he would personally lead an army to reclaim the largest continent on his planet without any need of their support!

Someday, maybe, he would do that. Rather than hosting an endless party with the gods whose territory hadn't fallen. It wouldn't do to turn his guests out after all, that would be rude.

"Min-Ji, Tjaroy." The Chief Secretary's voice echoing through the hall snapped him back to attention.

Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself for what would come next. Would it be working until calibration without any extra pay? Forcing him to take the weather report a quarter of the way across the city himself? Getting her damn black ivory coffee with saffron and cinnamon, served in a mug of smoked hickory and rimmed with copper?

The fact that he could remember the order pained him. At least the upstart left it at that and trusted the barista to handle the rest. She was promoted two years ago and already abused her authority every chance she got. They should be partying it up, not bailing water out of a sunk ship.

"Take a break and come to my desk. You need to hear this."

Well… it wasn't technically her desk, but he wasn't going to say no to a break.

Min-Ji slid the door to his shared office closed. It had been open to a lovely park so that the breeze would make the tedium bearable. With a dejected sigh, he commanded. "Third Floor, Central Processing, Corner Office 3A."

He pulled a dollop of Quintessence from the sleeve of his robes and shaped the outer layer into a glass sphere.

O faithful doorway,

Grateful for your steadfastness,

Threshold of blessings.

Not his greatest work, but enough for a tip. The sphere was left behind as the door closed behind him and vanished into the wall. Time for what would likely be a terrible meeting.

Secretary Xiaying sat at the Satrap of Rogue World's desk with a second chair placed on top of their true superior's massive throne so she could reach anything.

Considering he himself only came up to her waist and flying the whole time was a pain… he could hardly blame her. He took a seat on one of the artifacts that their superior collected, a crystal sphere that he'd inherited from his prior position that held the current position of the stars and planets was his favorite perch. It was still focused on tracking the Chrysanthemum Void Armada as it traveled to another world. Within a decade Duchess Orchid would add another world to the ever growing list that was their problem to track.

Blasted Raksha.

"You would not believe what just fell into my lap." She pulled a sealed tube from the sleeves of her red robe, a much simpler garment than Min-Ji's own, though it matched her mundane features well. "A letter from one of our biggest headaches."

"Is it Vanileth again?" The enormous face of Tjaroy peeked over a cabinet. He narrowly avoided hitting his large, central horn in the ceiling. "Oh, wait, no I bet it's Yeong-Ja or Padmavati."

"Nope." Xiaying set the scroll tube down on one end in front of her and drew her sword. "Salem."

Min-Ji gagged and checked his fur in a mirror. Yep, he'd gone from one of the most handsome tamarins to a ball of hair from that shudder. "And you're going to open it?! I thought we were burning everything from her!"

The Secretary twirled Severance of the Unclean, her blade of orichalcum that danced with wisps of flame. It was a gift from the Satrap, his favorite letter opener which destroyed any effect from the enemies of heaven. Hopefully that would work, but Min-Ji hid behind their boss's jug of desk wine just in case. Eighty years ago, he'd opened one of Salem's 'messages' and it took almost a month to get all of the gunk out of his fur.

"Unfortunately, we have to. It's addressed to Censor Apetha."

"Was she finally audited?" Tjaroy also took cover, hiding his bright yellow beard behind the cabinet.

"If only," Min-Ji said. He had a couple of friends within the censors and Remnant was still on their no-go list.

The Chief Secretary stood up on her booster seat and got ready. She'd get a face and body full of nastiness if it didn't work. Her eyes flash with blue and silver as golden flames sliced the seal off. Before she could see the result, her arms were covering her face, but nothing exploded.

More gingerly, she slid her blade into the tube and burned away anything else.

After a long moment, she pulled out a small scroll.

"I think she's calling on someone to be audited," Xiaying began reading, "Let's see here. To the wise and just sixteenth censor-"

"She's laying it on thick and is out of date, he was promoted to ninth." Min-Ji walked over to the edge of the table and read over her shoulder. Xiaying turned away to keep him from being able to.

"I, who owe so much to the grace of the Bureau of Heaven and my place in… blah, blah, blah. Tons of ass kissing, let's find the dirt. Oh! Here we go. An issue that is most concerning to not only your own office, but also the Crimson Panoply of Victory has come to my attention." The Secretary slowed as she read further. "A rogue Sidereal has taken command of a Lunar and two Solars whose Essence has been corrupted by the underworld and Yozi. The Sidereal is using their influence to build her own cult and fight against heaven's control over Remnant… Given this terrible breach of Celestial law, I humbly request an immediate investigation by the celestial lions."

Min-Ji fell over laughing.

"Corrupted by the underworld and Yozi." Tjaroy chuckled. "How much you want to bet this was her trying to corrupt an Exaltation?"

"Hehehe, she'd be so screwed if she messed one of them up. And that stupid lie." Min-Ji was almost tearing up. "A rogue Sidereal? Really? She expects us to believe that?"

Xiaying wasn't laughing. She was staring at the message with one hand covering her mouth. After a moment, she pulled out the Satrap's memo pad and began writing. "Tjaroy, find all prayer records of Remnant from the past five years. Salem fakes most of them, but if someone else is receiving anything we should know. Min-Ji, run this message directly to the Crimson Panoply of Victory. If the claim is true, there will be records of warfare that they cannot hide."

"You can't be serious! It's a ploy for Salem to have another chance to break quarantine."

"Get this done within the hour and you can have tomorrow off."

He was out of the door before she finished speaking.

A/N: And a birthday present to myself of being productive.

Took far too long and I'm still trying to dig myself out of some plot holes I only have myself to blame for, but I'm probably not going ot be completely happy with this chapter anytime soon. And, there are upcoming scenes I really want to write.