2-2: Preparations

The Xelor could barely suppress his irritated sigh.

When he took them in, he hadn't expected to be micromanaging his test subjects this much. Even Grambos were less of a headache to deal with, and they were three-foot-tall gremlins that were incapable of sensible organization.

At least, not without him threatening their every movements.

Then again, it wouldn't be productive to lay the blame on the squarely on the test subjects. After all, they were locals to this world, so it was understandable that they held no knowledge of the language used on the World of Twelve; it wasn't exactly their fault that there was a communication barrier. Still, couldn't they have responded in a way beyond standing stupefied?

Regardless, the fact that his words were incomprehensible to the two masked individuals put a wrench in the Xelor's plans. He needed to find some way to communicate with them, if they were to be of use to the Xelor. How exactly would he get them to follow his experiments if they were incapable of being instructed?

... No. They weren't completely incapable.

There may have been a barrier in terms of vocal communication, but spoken instructions were not the only way to communicate with others. Nox had noticed that non-verbal communication ticks were universal, as he could clearly pick up on his prisoners' confusion and aggression. It seemed that, regardless of their planet of origin, an annoyed individual will always be an annoyed individual.

And, unlike the shadow beasts that followed him for whatever reason, these people were actually intelligent. This meant that they were capable of picking up on body language. After all, that's how he had captured his second test subject.

With that established, Nox began working out the details on how he could put this knowledge to use. Obviously, he'd have to address them both visually and vocally, pointing at them and yelling out their subject designations so they'd eventually learn when he addressed them. But even if they understood that, the difficulty in instructing them still remained, as there was no adequate gesture that would convince them to use their unknown ability. The Xelor had to find some way to approach this problem.

Nox was in the middle of staring down the mirror when he heard the bathroom stall open, with Subject #2 finally stepping out from the stall. And, of course, he didn't flush. The Xelor immediately turned to glare at the masked individual, bringing one hand up as he pointed back into the stall. His captive made no movements, and even with the mask covering his entire face, Nox could tell that Subject #2 was confused.

So the Xelor flared up, making a show of anger as he gathered his power. This, in essence, just meant that Nox began glowing aggressively at the masked person, a gesture he often used to make a point when dealing with his previous minions. The lens on his mask narrowed as his gaze bore into the masked man, his glowing eyes matching the light that now consumed Nox's body. The combination was the perfect facsimile of anger, and it seemed that the subject understood as he quickly returned to the stall, finally flushing this time.

Honestly, Nox did not waste his energy protecting this structure just so his experiments could go die of disease.

Another glare and pointed finger instructed the masked man to make use of the sink, and after Subject #2's amazement of still having running water faded, the pair made their way back to the makeshift holding cells. Just as before, the walk was quiet, with the Xelor's captive simply taking in his surroundings, dumbly staring at the brick walls. At least he didn't try anything stupid, like attempting to es-

Of course. Nox's eye twitched.

The moment that thought entered Nox's mind, the masked man bolted off, running in the complete opposite direction as he made his way down the hall. But, the Xelor did not have the time nor the energy to participate in this idiot's chase, and simply invoked his power. Bringing up his right hand, the remaining focusing gem on his palm flickered, and Nox felt his Dial resonate, acting as a conduit for his innate abilities. The air in front of Subject #2 flashed, as a shell of energy filled the empty space, blocking off the masked man's path in a blue shell of powder-fuel.

Well, not a shell comprised of powder-fuel, but a shell that had used the powder as a fuel to manifest. And already, the Subject was proving its worth by helping Nox test the physical integrity of his power when using this fuel. Number Two did not notice the sudden obstacle, and collided head-first with solid air. The resultant wall flickered, and while it was far weaker than one built from Wakfu, it was still strong enough for his purposes in stopping an unarmed man.

With that out of the way, Nox pulled at Subject #2's handcuffs, using his power to yank the man back beside him, before fixing a single glare at the person.

He knew this wouldn't be enough to teach the subject its place, but there would be plenty of time for that later. For now, they had to return to the holding cells. Nox used his power to forcibly drag the masked man along this time, not willing to give the test subject another opening as they made their way back. Hopefully, Subject #1 would be more cooperative.

This was aggravating.

Part of him expected this, but Nox still wasn't quite sure why his two subjects were so keen on ruining his plans. They were the ones who were being slaughtered by the shadow beasts, and he was the one who pulled them away from danger. Sure, it was for purely selfish reasons, but the Xelor figured that they would've, at the very least, cooperated with him. Instead, he returned to the room to find Test Subject #1 wielding a broken metal bar, somehow having freed herself from her cage.

Well, 'freed' wasn't exactly the correct term. She had broken out of the cage, but hadn't actually left its confines yet. After all, Nox had left her alone with a room full of shadow beasts, and they seemed to enjoy the newly created opening far more than Subject #1 did. At the moment, one of the shadow boars were trying to squeeze through the opening, stuck against metal bars as it snorted angrily at the masked woman.

Subject #2 immediately cried out in alarm, drawing the attention of Subject #1, as well as the remaining shadow beasts. Thankfully, only two wolves charged forward, and Nox quickly removed their tiresome existence. The Xelor quickly turned to the masked man, his lens narrowing again in irritation, as Nox brought a single finger in front of his mouth. Or rather, the spot on his mask where his mouth would be.

Either way, Number Two got the message, and Nox could finally go about fixing this stupid mess. Another burst of wasted energy marked the end of the Boar, and the Xelor promptly repaired the breach in the bars before any more shadow monsters could come up with another bright idea. Then, without ceremony, Nox opened the cell door, tossing Subject #2 into the makeshift prison before closing it behind him.

But now, Nox realized that this alone wouldn't be enough to keep his subjects out of trouble. His attention shifted to the rest of the room, where some metal equipment still lay scattered on the ground. This time, he'd make sturdier walls.

The Xelor threw one final glare at the two, then began to work, starting up the forge once more.

"... Is this report accurate?"

Captain Vermont stood at attention, his posture tense as he fixed his gaze forward. Before him was one of the more influential members of White Fang, an Operative that represented those in command of this particular Cell in the southern wilds. An ornate mask covered the Operative, as intricate weaves of red paint etched into the metallic surface.

"Yes sir."

The White Fang Elite, for his part, paid little attention to ceremony. Instead of standing, the Operative was currently leaning back against the wall, his gaze fixed on the written report in his hands as he read over the document again. After a few more moments, he gave out a heavy breath, a mixture of a curse and a sigh as he turned to Vermont. "Well, this will be problematic. That depot was meant to support operations in this area; without it, the camps out here will be far more vulnerable..."

The operative trailed off, but it seemed like he wanted to say more, and Vermont didn't miss this. "... Sir?"

"This may be an opportunity. Tell me, you are certain that it was a humanoid grimm that attacked the camp?" This time, the Elite faced Vermont, and the intricate mask did nothing to hide the overwhelming pressure of the Operative. Still, the Lieutenant-turned-Captain stood still, not flinching in the slightest as he stared back.

"Yes sir. But the Captain managed to neutralize it before it could threaten the rest of the area." The Jackal-Faunus flinched as he unconsciously recalled his late superior. In Vermont's mind, he was still a simple Lieutenant, and his Captain was truly the one deserving of the title.

"That may not necessarily be true. But whether it is or not is irrelevant."

"... Pardon, sir?" Whatever thoughts of regret and doubt were quickly dashed from Vermont's mind, as he snapped his attention back to the Operative.

"It seems that Rhinestone had a survey team in the area." The Operative's voice stayed neutral, as he calmly answered the other man's question. Yet, in spite of the tone, there was an underlying message hidden between the words. You messed up. "I don't know what they were doing there, but they managed to spot the fort. And more importantly, they spotted something else."

Before the Jackal-Faunus could question further, the Operative took out his Scroll, tapping a single icon on the device as a holo-display sprang to life. There, it showed an impossibility, as flocks of grimm froze in midair.

"I don't... recall that at all." The Captain's eyes never left the display, barely able to find the voice to support his words. "Does that mean...?"

"Now that we've seen the report, we think this might be related to the humanoid grimm, which means your predecessor failed in stopping it." The White Fang Elite waved it off, casually tossing the report aside, as the stack of papers dropped onto the table. "However, the rest of the world thinks it's some hidden tech or semblance, and the fools will be at eachother's throats trying to get to it first."

The Operative's voice was no longer neutral this time, leaning forward in a covered grin. And Vermont was certain, at that very moment, his superior was grinning beneath his mask.

"So, while they race to see who dies first, we'll be relocating elsewhere. After all, there's no reason we should waste this opportunity that's been given to us."

"For the last time, Oz, I can't! Isn't there someone else who can do it?"

Unlike Qrow, the person on the other end of Scroll was as expressionless as always. Couldn't he see that he had other things he had to deal with? The man let out a heavy breath, shaking his head before turning to face Ozpin once again. But the headmaster remained unmoved, merely shrugging off Qrow's concerns as he took a sip from his damned mug once more. After a few more moments of silence, Beacon's headmaster spoke out once again, his tone level as he kept on hand on his drink.

"I understand you just got off of a mission, and I too agree that family is important. However..."

Qrow knew where this was going. And he knew, in the end, he'd still go, because it had to be important somehow. Whatever that flash was, it was too dangerous to leave alone. The experienced Huntsman knew full well that letting something like that fall into the hands of the highest bidder would be just as bad as leaving it with the White Fang. Even if he had no idea what kind of Semblance they were dealing with. Or tech. Or whatever it was.

"... This is something new. Something that must be investigated."

That caught Qrow's attention. The way Ozpin referred to it made it seem like more than just hidden tech or semblances. The man's eyes narrowed. "...What do you mean?"

"I mean, this is something unrelated to the White Fang. And the rest of the dust companies." Ozpin took another sip of his drink, but the man's furrowed brow remained as he stared back at the huntsman.

And this time, Qrow stayed quiet. The man's red eyes fixed onto the image of Ozpin, the flickering of the holo-display barely registering in his mind as he took in the headmaster's expression. "How are you certain?"

"Call it the experience that comes with age." And then the headmaster returned to using those vague words, leaning back in his seat as he closed his eyes for a few short moments. Once they opened, however, Qrow could see the clarity in the old man's gaze. "Or intuition, if you'd prefer. But... I believe it's connected to the light that fell over Vale."

"You mean the meteor?"

"...No. I don't."

Qrow let out a sigh, knowing full well the implications. Finally rising to his feet, the man brought a hand to his face, trying to rub the exhaustion away, his other hand reaching to his belt as he retrieved a familiar flask. "... Alright Oz. I'll head out first thing tomorrow."

"Thank you, Qrow. The sooner this is resolved, the safer we'll all be." Ozpin's gaze shifted away from the scroll, as he rose to his feet. He gave the huntsman one final stare, and for one split second, Qrow could see the weight of the world on the older man. Yet, it vanished instantly, and in its place was a wry smile. "... And I'm sorry."

With that, the call ended, and Qrow Branwen rose to his feet. There would be time to drink later; for now, he had equipment to prepare, and apologies to make.

"... Ruby's not gonna be happy about this." The man spoke out to no one in particular as he pocketed his Scroll, his attention turning to his bag as he mentally began tallying his supplies.

At least, that's what he had hoped to do, before a quiet voice spoke out. "...About what?"

From the entrance of his office, peeking out from the door, stood a little ten-year old with silver eyes.

"So much for that idea..." The Lieutenant let out a sigh, voice low as she watched from inside their cage.

She had tried to escape earlier, using her aura to strengthen the handcuffs that bound her. They were surprisingly well made, and were sturdy enough to act as a makeshift bludgeon. It took her a few tries, and it left her wrists a bit sore, but over the course of a few minutes, she had actually succeeded in breaking off a small section of one of the bars. However, in her fervor, she forgot to account for the grimm outside, and was immediately attacked by one of the beowolves. Having no other weapon, she was forced to use the metal rod to ward it off.

The Grizzly-Faunus wouldn't say she panicked, but she did act a bit too instinctually, which seemed to draw more of the grimm. After defeating the wolf, a boarbatusk immediately attacked, wedging itself firmly in the hole, the space far too small for it to fit through. Yet, before she could deal with that problem, the mummy returned, and quickly ended her attempts at escape.

Now, she could only watch with despair as the bars were replaced by... massive metal cogs. As silly as that sounded, that's exactly what their new cage was made out of. The mummy had used its powers to drag in more scrap metal, carnage left over from last night's attack. Then, in the span of a few minutes, it had melted down everything into raw metal, and shaped it into these massive gears and cogs. And these were no ordinary bits of clockwork, either: The smallest cog was half her size, and each metallic piece was over two inches thick.

Unlike the flimsy bars from before, there was absolutely that she'd be able to break through this wall. At least, not without a proper weapon or some dust. And even then, her chances weren't that much better.

So she let out a sigh, as she wrenched her view away from the walls, turning to face her Captain.

"... At least you're safe. What did it do to you?"

Her Captain's tore his gaze away from the walls, turning back to face her, as that familiar mask rested its embroidered surface on her. And though he covered his expression, she had worked under him long enough to know exactly what he was thinking about.

And... he was confused, for some reason.

"It... Brought me to the bathroom."

"What?"

"When I was looking around earlier... I think it misinterpreted me as needing to use the bathroom."

To say that this was surprising would be an understatement. This was the same mysterious monster that entered with the grimm, that had taken part in the destruction of their entire fort. How was it even capable of recognizing... something like that? Why would it then try to actually lead him there? How did it even understand that concept? The Lieutenant found herself at a loss for words.

"... What?"

"That's not the weirdest part... I know I ordered the base to be scuttled... But the plumbing's still working."

And now, she was even more lost. She didn't even know her Captain gave that order, or why plumbing would be the first thing he-... "Does that mean the order failed?" It was the Grizzly-Faunus's turn to look around the room, panicking as she attempted to find an opening.

"No, that's just it. On the way to the bathroom, I managed to get a glimpse of the outside. Everything else was destroyed. The rest of the base was in ruins. The order went through, I'm certain of it. But... at the same time..."

"... This building's still standing." She finished off her Captain's words, and both shared a look of concern. Their gaze then turned back to the strange mummy, watching it through the spaces between the gears, its attention now fixed on the forge. "And you think that it did it."

"I know it did. And that's not the worst part..." The Captain's voice was hushed this time, as he turned his attention to rations that they had been given. "... I'm all but certain it's keeping us here for a reason."

Then, the Captain's gaze turned back to the mummy. Her own gaze followed, and she felt a shiver run down her spine, watching as metal and dust began shaping into... something.

They were certain now: this was no grimm. From the way it behaved, to the way it made things. From the way it used dust, to the way it understood them. No mindless beast of destruction was capable of that. No monster, born purely to destroy humanity or the kingdoms, could be capable of that. There was just no way.

They were certain now: this was a person.

So what did he want?