After dinner, Storm, Faye, Azura, and Rusti were going back to their dorm room. They were currently on the topic of who they thought was going to win the final match of the tournament. Storm was currently in the camp that thought Taline would win, but he was keeping an open mind about this. He'd been wrong before, so it wouldn't be surprising to be wrong again. Of course, Rusti had some interesting ideas.

"I think Wukong's gonna win," Rusti said. "He's fast, and packs a mean punch. He even got to the singles round of the Vytal Tournament."

Storm shook his head. "Taline would have gotten there too had she actually entered into the tournament. Her team was late—that was it."

"Taline'll win," Azura said. When both Storm and Rusti looked at her, urging her to explain, she said, "Taline's sword is a powerful weapon. I doubt a monkey like Sun can take a few hits from that."

Storm frowned. "Why'd you call him a monkey?"

Azura shrugged. "Cause he acts like one—and the tail."

Storm shook his head in disapproval. "You can't just do that, Azura. It's kinda racist."

Azura was about to say something when Faye did instead. "Lorna had the nickname 'Foxy' in Asylum. It is not particularly uncommon for Faunus to come up with nicknames based off of what kind of Faunus they are—or at least, not in my experience."

Rusti had a contemplative look on his face for a few seconds and said, "What nickname did you have—Featherhead?"

Faye shook her head. "I did not have a nickname."

"Well, how about I call you Featherhead?"

"Please do not. I do not like that name. It makes me sound like I am a duster."

"Alright, alright," Rusti said. "But I still feel like you should have a nickname."

"Please, I do not want a nickname," Faye said in a pleading manner.

"Yeah," Storm said. "How about I call you Rust-Bucket, Rusti?"

Rusti made a face and shook his head. "Let's just lay off the nicknames, okay?"

"Fine with me," Storm said.

He glanced at a nearby wall and saw a strange glyph appear on it. It was of a circle along with an equal length cross going through it, wreathed with a snake. It was glowing, but didn't seem to really be there, as it didn't cast light on any other surface. He glanced at his teammates, and none of them seemed to see it. The glyph seemed to call him down a particular hallway off to the side. He decided to excuse himself from the group, saying "Excuse me, I've got to go" and went down the hall.

They let him go without much trouble. It was certainly fortunate since he didn't want to have to explain this. They'd think he was crazy if they knew what he saw.

He went down the hall to a door with the same glyph on it which disappeared. He opened the door and was immediately pulled in by a strong hand. Once he was in, he was thrown into a chair and he got a good look at who it was. It was Jet.

Jet was a member of the Order, and one Storm had come across before. He didn't exactly know what he could do, but he was certainly powerful. Jet waved a hand over Storm's face, a different glyph than before appearing on his black gloved palm. Suddenly, Storm's eyelids felt heavy, and he fell asleep.

Storm awoke in a dark room, sitting in a chair with a table and a strange figure in front of him. He—if it was a he—wore gray armor with a mask, and a dark hood and cloak. He was sitting across from him at the table with his hands in an arch. He didn't recognize this man, if it was a man—the armor made it hard to tell.

He was flanked by two people he vaguely recognized. There was Jet looking the same as always—black trench coat, pale skin, black hair and eyes, narrow face. The other was a woman wearing a black gi with purple trim, a black jumpsuit under that, a stark white scarf and gloves, and a full face Grimm mask. If he remembered correctly, she had black hair. He'd fought Grimm-Mask before, and she was so strong she dented his shield with her gloved hand. Were they meant to intimidate him, because Metal-Mask was enough for that?

He kept his eyes on Metal-Mask as he felt around his limbs. Neither his arms nor legs were restrained, which unnerved him. They obviously didn't feel like needed to restrain him, and right now he didn't feel like challenging that.

Metal-Mask spoke. The voice was distorted, like it was being altered by a computer program or something. The voice seemed neither male nor female. "So, you're awake. Good. The last thing I wanted was for you to be missed at school."

He skipped the usual "where am I" speech, since he probably wouldn't get any answer he wanted. Instead he said, "What do you want?"

Metal-Mask laughed. "As expected; straight to the point. I wanted to make an introduction to you. I am the Master. I run a simple organization, currently with a simple goal—eliminate all terrorist groups associated with the attack on Vale. A noble goal to be sure and I want everyone I can to join me—join us—in achieving it."

As much as their offer would entice most people, Storm knew what the Order was about. They wanted to take over the world. The only reason they wanted to save the world was to conquer afterwards—it was easier that way. Though it was good to know they were fighting same threat.

He would decline though. "Call me prejudice, but I don't like organizations that kidnap me," he said. "I think I'll say no if you don't mind."

Metal-Mask, or the Master as he called himself, nodded knowingly. "I understand. And don't worry about who to tell—you won't remember this at all."

Storm woke up in a study room. From the room's design, he guessed it was Haven, but he didn't know Haven had study rooms. In fact, he didn't remember how he got there.

He quickly came up with the most probably scenario for what happened. He guessed he knew something that someone didn't want him to, but knew that if he disappeared, people would notice. He wondered what awful secret that had to be, but he decided not to wonder about it.

He took stock of his surroundings. Four foldup chairs around a foldup table, a few sparsely populated bookshelves, a light built into the ceiling, a couple of windows to the side, and of course a door. If it was used for anything but studying, he didn't particularly want to know about it.

He was about to get up when the door opened. Oddly enough, it took a moment to realize the blue coat, blue haired, woman with a bow around her one broad shoulder was his mother. She smiled. "I thought I'd find you here," she said.

He stared at her questioningly. "How?"

"You know my way," she said as she sat across from him. "I'm a mother; if I didn't know, I wouldn't be a good one now would I?" He would definitely argue against that, except that he didn't want to. "So, I hear that not only did you tell someone about the Order, but someone in a high place, and later on even admitted this and convinced Dustin Taryn to turn over any further actions to us."

Storm hung his head. "I'm sorry, Mom."

She put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry; I forgive you. I would have done the same thing in your place." Storm met his mother's eyes. She had understanding in them, not any anger. "But I've got a lot of letter writing to do now," she said getting up. "Norbert is needed from Vale, and I'll have to find Locaster. With the CCT down, we're back to using courier ships and aircraft."

"Last I checked, Locaster was in a hospital in Vale," Storm said.

"She's probably somewhere in Vacuo by now, but thanks anyway," she said.

As she went over to the door, Storm realized he had something to tell her. "Mom, I have something to tell you."

She stopped. She must have guessed by his tone of voice that it was of some importance—to him at least. "What is it?"

"Faye and I are, um…"

She shifted her weight to one leg, and had a tired look. "Are you dating?" He nodded and she smiled. "That's great Storm. I'm happy for you." She glanced at the door and then back at him. "I'll talk to you more about this when I have more time, but I'm glad we talked."

"Yeah," Storm said, nodding.

"Goodbye, Storm."

"See ya later, Mom." And she went out the door. Then he realized he should go too.

He still wondered why he was left in a study room.