6-3: Revelations

In his line of work, the ability to read intent was as important as any combat skill. In fact, some might say that such a skill was paramount to success. Sure, he might not've used those exact words, but Qrow stood by them all the same. And from his experiences, the sentiment conveyed by those words certainly held true, playing a key part in nearly all his missions, whether it was his regular huntsman duties or Ozpin's mysterious errands.

As a result, the black-haired scythe-wielder had a pretty keen grasp on basic nuances and body language. That's why Qrow couldn't help but frown, warily gazing at the armoured mummy as he watched the figure speak. The mummy's voice was low, almost sarcastic as it echoed through the halls, the metallic sound only emphasizing his tone... A that tone that Qrow couldn't help but recognize.

Depression. Resignation.

It reminded him far too much of Taiyang, back when... things went wrong.

And that was why he was worried. When Taiyang had been depressed, he was almost self-destructive, both to himself and to his family. He got better, of course, but that single period of time marked a very dark moment for his alleged brother-in-law.

The thing was... Taiyang doesn't have a crazy fire-wielding death semblance nor the capacity to create mechanical grimm from nothing. He didn't have mastery of Dust, or the ability to cooperate with grimm, or whatever the hell else this mummy had up its sleeve. Which was why Qrow was worried.

What the hell was this thing capable of?

The huntsman stood silent, his red eyes staring straight at the mummy's metallic mask, watching the purple glow in its visor. Was the glow always purple? Was a change in colour significant in some way? Qrow had no idea, so he had little choice but to keep a wary hand on his blade, as he waited for the other man to act. After all, if the mummy was unstable, he couldn't afford to do anything that'd aggravate him further. It further?

Damnit! He didn't have time to worry about pronouns! There's a mentally unstable maniac standing right there, wielding a power that absolutely no one understands. The huntsman cleared his head, his eyes fixed squarely on the armoured figure as he waited for the mummy to make his first move.

And waited. And waited.

A full minute must've passed before he did something, and to Qrow's surprise, the first thing the mummy did was chuckle. It was the same sort of sarcastic laugh as before, carrying no sense of weight behind it as the figure's voice echoed through the room. The huntsman wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, but considering the fact that he hadn't been attacked yet... probably good? Still, he wasn't about to do something stupid like laugh with the guy. Instead, he kept his ground, waiting for the masked mummy to do something else.

So the mummy spoke.

To Qrow, it was nothing more than gibberish, but one thing he did notice was that it kept the same subdued tone from earlier. However, unlike the words from before, they seemed more directed, and there was even a questioning intonation as the mummy finished its spiel, before raising a single hand towards the black-haired scythe-wielder. Did... Did it just ask him something?

"Uhh... Dunno what to say, buddy. You know I can't understand you, right?" Okay, he might be a trained huntsman, but Qrow had never been given training for these situations. Just what the hell was he supposed to do? Language barriers weren't exactly a problem when he had to deal with grimm.

And as the mummy spoke again, Qrow was reminded once more of this fact. This time, it spoke with curiosity rather than resignation in its tone, the glow of its mask focusing on the huntsman. Once again, it had asked him a question that he had no hope of understanding.. But it had also asked him a question, rather than outright attack him. Does this mean he's supposed to... help it? Damnit, he was not expecting this when Ozpin assigned him the mission.

Was there really no other way around this? The huntsman threw another confused glance at the mummy, but its mask did little to placate his worries. And as silence hung in the air for a few moments longer, Qrow came to a reluctant acceptance.

"My... Name... Is... Qrow."

This was utterly embarrassing. Heck, part of his brain was already calling him stupid for speaking the words slowly. Not only that, but he physically pointed at himself when he spoke his name, hoping that the mummy would understand. Yet, when the armoured figure failed to respond, Qrow had no choice to repeat himself, his thumb pointing up to his face as he tried again. "Qrow. Qrow."

Another minute of silence. The huntsman mentally slapped himself. He would've physically slapped himself too, but he was still keeping an eye on the mummy, just in case it tried to do something hostile. Though, really, at this point, fighting would've been preferable to the ridicule he had felt for himself.

Fortunately, his humiliation had been vindicated when the mummy slowly brought up a hand, a single finger outstretched as it pointed towards him. "... Crow?"

"Yes! Finally!" He cheered to himself, momentarily caught in his pathetically minor achievement. Then, he realized what he had done, and promptly stopped making a bigger fool of himself, clearing his throat as he nodded towards the mummy. "Yes. Qrow. My name is Qrow."

"Name... Crow."

The Mummy repeated his words, mirroring the huntsman's motions as it pointed at him. Good, this was progress. Maybe this wouldn't be a huge headache. "Yes... I'm Qrow. Name... Qrow. Now, what's your name?"

The silence that followed was something he should've expected. The huntsman gave a tired sigh as he tried the gesture again, pointing towards himself as he spoke those two words once again.

"Name. Qrow."

Immediately following that, he pointed towards the mummy, his tone expectant as he stared at the metallic mask. "Name...?"

C'mon... Did he get it? Did the mummy understand? The black-haired warrior could do little but wait, his eyes expectant as he stared at the armoured figure, hoping against all hope that it understood. A few painful seconds later, it responded.

"Name..." Yes, yes! It was speaking. Not only that, its finger was pointed at itself, clearly aware of what he was asking of it. It was a long shot, but maybe the figure understood that he was asking for its name! "...Crow?"

Okay, his reservations about physically slapping himself? They no longer apply. Qrow brought his palm to his face, letting out a tired sigh at the mummy's response.

Damnit, it's kindergarten Yang all over again.

Winter frowned, the scowl permanently fixed to her face as she sped through the halls.

There wasn't any one reason for her irritation at the moment; instead, the Atlesian operative's mind was filled with a myriad of problems and questions, each contributing to her dwindling mood.

Obviously, her biggest concern was that fool, Qrow.

For some reason, the brute had take it upon himself to fight the mummy from earlier. There was no questioning how dangerous such a prospect was, and the fact that it was unnecessary only caused the huntress's frown to deepen. It wasn't like she was concerned about his well being or anything; it's just that, if he had the gall to suddenly throw himself into the mission, then he should have the responsibility to see it through to the end. What good would he do anyone if he were to recklessly charge into unknown danger?

And unknown danger, it was.

They knew practically nothing about their armoured opponent, besides the fact that he was worryingly capable of combat. Their melee from earlier was still fresh in Winter's mind, and she recalled the mummy's furious strike with absolute clarity. The speed had been blinding, and she wasn't sure if she would've been able to deflect the blow flawlessly. Sure, Qrow had ultimately managed to parry the mummy's attack, but he had sacrificed the element of surprise for it.

Unfortunately, Winter was certain that the huntsman held no such advantage this time; she had heard the empty laughter that had echoed from Qrow's end of the call, a voice that was simultaneously chilling and... aware. There was no doubt in her mind that the drunkard would be in for a difficult battle. Still, she found some solace in the fact that the mummy's creations wouldn't be joining in.

And as odd as it may seem, Winter was sure of that singular fact. Whatever had happened to that aura device had adversely affected the machines, stripping away their hostility and loosing them on the grimm. Not only that, but she could... feel some sort of connection between herself and the machines. The way they moved, the way they fought was familiar, and definitely reminded her of the way her summons had felt, whenever she invoked her Semblance. Almost as if they were extensions of herself.

But they weren't; that vague connection was closer to an intuitive awareness, rather than an empathetic understanding. Try as she might, she couldn't direct the machines the same way she directed her Semblance, and that was the reason why she was now running through the halls by herself. Otherwise, she would've amassed a small cadre of machines to help with the capture of the White Fang elements.

The White Fang... They were the final reason why her current mood had darkened. It was no secret that there were tensions between her family and the White Fang, and while she did try to distance herself from SDC, conflict was still inevitable. Unfortunately, the type of conflicts that often occurred were violent in nature, and given the fact that she had to capture them, the huntress was quite certain that the surviving faunus would not go down without a fight.

So fight she shall. The only question that remained was how taxing the fight would be; She had no idea what their capabilities were, only that they had endured whatever had occurred in this fortress. After all, this encampment was obviously not under their control, and yet they had somehow survived the mummy and his grimm. Coupled with the fact that they were, apparently, heading to a specific location, Winter had no doubt that these faunus were capable individuals, and had their own plans.

Whatever those plans were, Winter resolved to stop them, just as soon as she found an exit. Her answer came the moment she rounded the corner, as she stumbled onto a hallway that had sustained damage from Rhinestone's initial attack. The walls and flooring were shattered by heavy ordinance, a clear breach on one of the walls as rubble and scorch marks dotted the corridor. The Atlesian operative made her way through the break in the wall, her mood lifting for just a moment as she found herself outside.

More importantly, she found the structure that Qrow had mentioned in clear view, towering over the fortress, standing firm at the other side of the courtyard.

Her mood fell once more when she realized that the tower was the only intact thing in view. Everything else, from the ruined buildings to scrapped robots to crashed bullheads, were completely destroyed... And her mood dropped further the moment she had realized that there were destroyed airships in the first place. Strewn across the courtyard, she could see at least three bullheads, all broken wrecks as smoke billowed out from the metallic husks. Sounds of gunfire erupted from two of them, which gave her some hope of the crews' survival.

Which was why she couldn't help but grit her teeth, as she forced herself to turn away. As much as she would've liked to, Winter could not assist them. The presence of the White Fang, as well as the information they could potentially provide, was simply too important to ignore. At best, she could only whittle down the next wave of grimm... Which was exactly what she did. A pure-white Ursa was all she could spare, willing it to charge into an oncoming pack of beowolves before she sprinted off.

It didn't take much for the Huntress to arrive, her movements fueled by necessity as much as they were by her glyphs. Within minutes, Winter had crossed the courtyard, leaving trails of grimmsmoke in her wake as she arrived at the base of the tower. Fortunately, she had encountered little resistance, due in no small part to the infighting between grimm and mechanical grimm, and that fact gave the huntress some hope for the personnel she had left behind.

If the grimm were this scattered, then she had high hopes that the security forces could hold on long enough for her to capture the-

"Well... What do we have here?" An unfamiliar male spoke up.

Capture them.

She had seen them arrive, of course. It was hard to miss members of the White Fang, especially ones who were as decorated as the four before her. Three women, one man. Two of the women looked to be technical fighters, one wielding a blade while the other bore a katar. The man was obviously one who relied on brute strength, as he hefted a large warhammer over one shoulder. And near the back of their group was the last woman, carrying a massive rifle, its size giving it more commonality to artillery pieces than small arms.

It was clear to Winter that these were the remnants of whatever command force had been stationed here. The male faunus wore a decorated mask with elaborate runes, while the two women with close-ranged weapons bore masks that covered their entire face. Only the woman at the back seemed to be a common soldier, as her mask was the White Fang's signature ivory plate that covered only the eyes. With that said, Winter knew not to underestimate any of them, drawing her sword with a flourish as she pointed towards them.

"Attention, White Fang operatives. You are ordered to surrender yourselves immediately." Winter's voice was clear, echoing through the open air as she fixed her eyes at them, watching for the slightest hint of hostile movement or provocation. "If you comply, you will be treated as prisoners of war as defined by the Four Kingdoms Treaty of Vytal, and given the same rights as such."

There was a moment of silence. The four faunus exchanged looks, keeping a tight grip on their weapons as they remained still. Unfortunately, Winter did not expect them to surrender. They were the White Fang, and she was both an Atlesian Huntress and a Schnee; Not once has her negotiation attempts ended in anything but violence. So, she prepared herself for their response, gathering her aura as she waited for them to act.

They seemed equally wary of her as she did of them, the four faunus maintaining their stances as they slowly settled their sights back on her. After a few more seconds of silence, the man spoke out, his voice laced with anger. "Rights? Prisoners of war? So what you're saying is that the only time we're given rights is when we fight. Because I'm all but certain we haven't been given any promise of rights until now."

Winter sighed.

It always ended this way, and she never enjoyed it. The White Fang were growing increasingly aggressive, and this sentiment was becoming more and more commonplace. And with all that she had seen, the Huntress was growing more concerned that, one of these days, the Faunus Rights group would overstep their bounds... Thankfully, that hasn't happened yet, and Winter began formulating her response.

"Unfortunately, Miss Schnee... I'm afraid that's not quite true anymore." And a male voice interrupted the entire exchange.

Both the huntress and the faunus turned to the source of the voice, only to find an irritated security Veteran staring back at them, his posture lax as his gaze shifted from person to person. The Veteran's voice was uncharacteristically dark, matching the tone set by his appearance as he wore the half-burnt remains of his security uniform.

"Sir! You're okay!" Relief filled Winter's voice as she recognized the security officer. She had feared the worst when the conversation had been cut off. Not only was the man was an associate of her superior, he was clearly the binding presence for the entire operation. And now that his safety was confirmed, they'd be able to... wait... What did he say? Concern flashed on Winter's face as she stared back at the Veteran, her brow furrowing. "...Wait. What did you mean by that? What's not true anymore?"

All present could hear the weight in the Veteran's voice as he let out a tired sigh. The man's gaze shifted to the four faunus, and their masks did little to hide their unease. "Well... As of today... The White Fang have been declared a terrorist organization."

"The hell! What do you mean by that?!" The woman with the blade shouted in response, outrage in her voice as she bared her teeth. "How the hell do you justify that?!"

"The Kingdoms have little choice." Winter could tell that something was wrong. Not just with the Veteran's words, but how he spoke them. Neither his tone nor his expression changed, completely ignoring the White Fang member's outburst as he fixed his eyes to the distance. "How else would they respond, now that the White Fang are conducting public executions."

All five people, Winter and the four faunus, were stunned.

"...What?"

"What do you mean by that?!"

Honestly, Jared was expecting that sort of response, both from the White Fang and from Jimmy's operative. After all, it hadn't even been a day since the White Fang's announcement, and considering their circumstances, the man was certain that he was the only one present who had seen the video. Unfortunately, that meant that he had the unenviable task of breaking the news to the rest of them.

"Exactly what I said." The Veteran bit back a pained grunt as he shifted his arm, reaching into his coat as he pulled out his Scroll. All it took was a few taps to bring up the video, and with a solemn expression on his face, he turned the device to the five individuals. At least one of them caught his expression, as he felt apprehension fill the air. "Here. Take a look."

The announcement itself was only a few minutes long, a quick and brutal display that conveyed the terrorist organization's intended message. Thankfully, the video itself was shorter than it could've been, consisting of only a declaration and two other... demonstrations. It was still a tragic turn of events, but the Veteran was glad that the White Fang hadn't prepared more hostages for their message.

As the video came to an end, the security officer shifted his attention back to the five individuals, waiting to see their reactions. Winter's response was the easiest to see, given her lack of mask, and... honestly, the way her eyes narrowed, the way her cheeks flushed red in outrage did not bode well. Her teeth were clenched, and it seemed that the Atlesian operative was doing all she could to keep herself under control.

The members of the White Fang, on the other hand, did not have her level of discipline.

"What the hell?! This... This can't be right." The first to speak out was also the only one without a rank, showing the clearest sign of disbelief as her face blanched. It was ironic that she was also the one who was carrying the deadliest weapon, but Jared kept that detail to himself as he waited. The White Fang woman turned her head to face him, and the Veteran could do little but keep his face resolute as she almost pleaded to him. "This is a joke... right? They'd never... They'd never go that far..."

"I'm afraid not."

That was all he allowed, his voice low as he waited for the next person to speak up. As he pulled back his Scroll, the Veteran could see the faunus debating among themselves, murmuring their doubts and worries.

"I-is this why we got that new shipment?"
"Did you know about this!?"
"No, I didn't hear anything at all..."

The woman spoke to her superior, looking up at the White Fang Captain as she demanded answers. The two Lieutenants confided in one another, their voices heavy with doubt. Even the Captain seemed disturbed by the information, his eyes lingering on the Scroll as he stood in silence. Jared had expected more questions, but the sight of the White Fang questioning the events were... comforting. Not all of them were extremists, after all.

Unfortunately, he wasn't sure if the Atlesian operative shared his optimism. He could clearly see the woman struggling to keep herself under control, her face a permanent scowl as she tried, and failed, to hide her anger. Her sharp breath was enough to draw the groups attention, and there was a dark tone in her voice as she turned towards the White Fang.

"... I will only ask this once. Why?" There was no mistaking the hostility in Winter's voice, and the Veteran momentarily turned his gaze from the group, his eyes suddenly shooting to the area around them, watching the ruins while he listened. "Why did the White Fang do it?"

It was directed at the largest faunus, the Captain of the group, and all eyes fell to the man. Winter waited expectantly, the Veteran turned back to hear his response, and even his subordinates looked up at him, completely dropping their previous combat stance as they fixed their attention on the only person capable of speaking on behalf of the faunus group.

The man in question released an exhausted sigh, shaking his head as he brought a hand to his temple.

"...I don't know." The growl from the Atlesian operative didn't even give the man a chance to pause, as he quickly repeated himself. "I don't know, damnit! They never said anything about this! At least, our cell didn't hear any mention of it!"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, the only thing we're supposed to do is maintain a presence in the outskirts of Vale, and take care of anyone who wanted to leave the Kingdoms!" The Captain's voice was strained as he turned towards the Schnee. "We didn't hear anything about kidnapping or public executions! I don't know what the hell they're thinking!"

That answer clearly wasn't enough for the huntress, but to her credit, she kept her outburst to a minimum, slowly exhaling as she clenched her fist, gripping her weapon tightly. There was a slight pause, and the woman looked like she was about to speak.

However, they didn't have time for that. After all, the creatures of grimm were beings that were drawn to negativity, and their outcries did little to shield themselves from the beasts of destruction. Not only that, but the older ones were even more hateful, actively seeking out prey for the sake of slaughter, deliberately acting to leave no survivors.

So, unfortunate it may be, the Veteran was not surprised when the terrible echo of one such beast made its presence known.

The Ancient Ursa from earlier, the one who had shot down so many Bullheads with its terrifying bone pilums, brought its weight to bear. And this time, nearly half of the beast was consumed by an unnatural glow, as veins of dust and something else pulsed through its form, its bone plates replaced by a twisting mass of solid crystal.

Nox mentally chuckled to himself.

More importantly, he was surprised that he could do something like that, given what he had just discovered. Still, the sudden appearance of the local was not something he had expected, given that he had been pursuing them moments ago. Was the individual in question suicidal?

He had asked him that, jokingly of course, since he knew that the man had no way of understanding him.

So imagine his surprise when the red-eyed individual had actually decided to answer him. Not that he understood the answer, mind you, but the Xelor hadn't expected the local to do anything more than stare quietly at him, as had been the case when he monologued. Yet, the man chose to speak which only furthered Nox's curiosity. Or, well, provided a distraction for his mind. Which is why Nox encouraged the interaction.

It soon devolved to the local making a fool of himself, making a show of exaggerated gestures and painfully slow words, as he went through a silly ritual of pointing at himself, then saying something. Of course, Nox wasn't an idiot, so he knew what the man was attempting to do right away. It might've been an inefficient way to bridge the language gap, but it was something, and considering the amount of effort the black-haired man had gone through to ridicule himself, the Xelor decided to humour the him.

After he humoured himself, at any rate. The first word he had learned was either the man's name or the man's species, and Nox had fun watching the self-appointed teacher's response each time he pointed to a random object and applied the identifier. The corrections were just as humourous as the responses, and showed that the man had some experience in this sort of inane blathering. But, despite the apparent entertainment value, playing the fool quickly lost its appeal to the Xelor, and he eventually decided to cooperate with the local.

That had been ten minutes ago. Now, ten minutes later, he had perfected the art of parroting random words, as well as pointing to the objects associated with them. And just as he expected, the entire process was painstakingly inefficient, wasting an inordinate amount of time just to learn a few pointless phrases. It would've been much better if there were learning facilities nearby; At least that way, he'd be able to send off Noxines to...

The Xelor sighed. The whole reason he had accepted this farce was to keep his mind off of... that. The event. The whole incident where the gods had somehow managed to wrest control from him. Why did they act now?

No.. There was no point in complaining about it. The Gods were selfish, foolish weaklings that had long lost their relevance. What were they capable of? Power? All they do is share their paltry parlour tricks with any idiot stupid enough to grovel at their feet.

Virtue? Judgement? Absolution? Wrath? These were certainly religious terms, but they were vague terms of uselessness that did nothing to excuse the deities' ineptitude. He didn't need to list off all the times they had failed; The World of Twelve had long since suffered from their idleness. Ogrest's chaos, wayward demonic Shushus... even his very actions! The Gods did nothing!

So, if they were so powerless, why act now?

Nox froze, finally coming to a conclusion. A realization.

If this was the point that called for their intervention, then one thing was clear: they didn't want him to uncover the secrets of this world. They didn't want him to discover the elemental powder fuel, nor the mysterious energy that propagates through the humans of this world. They didn't want him to harness the energies behind the shadow beasts, and who knows what else they wanted to keep from him.

His path was clear.

Noximilien Coxen had a goal. He would not give up here... No. There was far too much.

Instead, he'll learn this world's secrets, and use them to defy the petty fools who sought to name themselves gods.