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-Y.A.R.N.

The leader of the CCS leaned forward over the choppy images and scant reports of the two Conduits. Apparently, whoever these two were were laying low, and very very low if how there had been next to nothing on them was found except for a few scant remnants of their powers that traced their path from when the fight started to where it ended. Most of the damage had been done by the concrete conduit, as evidenced by the buckshots of concrete splinters lodged into walls, large slabs of concrete that had been launched into the earth, and several demolished portions of the buildings. The light wielding conduit only fought back with generally precise attacks on one target, judging by the lack of collateral and few marks when he missed an attack.

She frowned at the face that the CCS hadn't been able to capture them and bring them in, natural-born conduits were rare to join law enforcement and she wished she had some on hand. Hell, she would have settled for mutational Conduits that were in the city. Although many of them kept whatever abilities they had under wraps or simply unwilling to use them altogether.

As much as she would have liked to obtain Cardin Winchester as accessible asset to the CCS, Winchester Senior had been vehemently opposed to the idea and she could do nothing as he stonewalled her. In hindsight though, it had probably been for the best for the whole group that she hadn't brought him in. The young Winchester was arrogant to a fault and no doubt if he was associated with the CCS it would cause no end to problems of covering up his mistakes. They could ill-afford a loose cannon like Cardin to damage their already shaky reputation; already too many thought the CCS was simply the DUP under a different name and face. While unfortunate, she had made her decision after perusing files she had gathered from the DUP contacts that still had some sway; the CCS did not need any more bad press.

The DUP had already been dismantled in every possible way in every city, and left dozens and hundreds with minor abilities since Augustine had transferred small slivers of ability to them. Some of the former forces had gone on to work in law enforcement or maybe military, but many of them were integrated into the CCS. The discipline was much much harsher though when it came to dealing with super-powered incidents and incarceration. Whereas the former foot soldiers had nearly free reign to do as they pleased, the CCS was not allowing abuse of power. Conduits didn't deserve to die or be tortured, or all of the former DUP soldiers would have to kill each other off when all was said and done; That was made abundantly clear at the first orientation and hammered home the importance that they not try to kill Conduits.

Any new recruit's reaction to that sudden clarity was amusing.

Overseer of the CCS in Empire City she may be, but their creator was not lenient and would overhaul the whole group if she failed to keep her forces controlled. It had beyond difficult to keep her identity hidden and even then, avoid the public as a spokesperson and foisting the role onto other people. Their creator may not have been the one to care about who ran the forces so long as they ran them well and fairly, but she didn't want some choice people to know she still was in the city. But even with that of line of thought excused, the situation of the CCS was delicate and held a tenuous balance even at the best of times. She shook her head and decided that shelve that depressing line of thought for the time being, it would do her no good now.

She turned back to the reports.

So it was clear one of them was the attacker, and the leader of the CCS wished she knew who, because and inexperienced concrete conduit and an attacking light conduit was a scenario that wasn't something she could dismiss. Another scenario — that was apparently the general consensus from the videos of the fight —was a uncaring concrete conduit and a defending light conduit. They would be of great use if found and… recruited. She planned to find them and make them hers; after all, she had concerns that could only really be solved if she had powers at her beck and call. She leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers gaze lingering on the ceiling.

"Oh the possibilities." She murmured.

All the possibilities had the potential to become realities if she found them.

Yuma sat in his newly-acquired apartment and pulled the last of the bandages, gently prodding the pink scar that now adorned his side. He sighed in relief that there was no pain from the pokes, not even a faint tingling that something was wrong. Even with his accelerated healing, Jaune Arc's light blade dug deep and laid him up for a while since his healing factor wasn't strong. Being a pseudo-conduit had its perks, but his healing would never be at the level of a natural conduit despite it being much stronger than a vanilla human's healing. He hadn't lost enough blood to be fatal because of that, otherwise he'd be dead on the side of the road. He gripped the sink hard enough to crack it and stared in the mirror before frowning. He wished he had managed to catch Jaune by surprise, but the kid had caught on to being followed way too quick. He didn't expect to be easy to kill him, but he didn't know that Jaune had incredible mastery over his abilities.

Yuma had no delusions.

His line of work didn't allow for them.

Jaune was objectively stronger as a natural conduit than he was, and that wasn't even the most frustrating thing.

He had no clue what Jaune's power source was.

The young conduit didn't seem to stop by anything and pull out whatever the hell he used in their scuffle. The closest approximation of his abilities was from that neon chick — Fletch or Fish or whatever that went on a killing spree regard the drug dealer in Seattle once she was free — who everyone knew was fucking Delsin Rowe behind closed doors. The difference was that he didn't stop by any neon sources and his material shift seemed more in line with Delsin Rowe's smoke shift, less substance more ethereal. Unknown variables would mean the difference between life and death in his contract so he had no choice but to force Jaune's hand. He had to keep going at the young Arc until the boy showed off what was powering him, what made him tick and tock. Then — after Yuma had all the information he needed — when Jaune Arc was at his most vulnerable, Yuma would kill him and enjoy life under Jacques' blanket protection and wealth.

Cardin sighed for the umpteenth time as he strolled around town, trying to clear his head and structure his thoughts. the sky was overcast in some places, and the clear areas let out streams of sunlight as though the clouds and light were fighting for dominance.

It almost looked like the sky was still undecided.

A lot like his thoughts.

Cardin wanted to ignore the pit in his stomach over his actions.

But he had sold himself so cheaply for money he could've gathered more legally.

He had also wanted to say sorry.

But he wasn't sure his presence would be well received by the person he wanted to apologize to. He knew full-well how much he had turned Jaune's life into hell, and to swallow his pride and offer an apology was not in his nature. Most of the time he would just not say anything and move on with his life, leaving the past as the past. Tempting as that was, he was not too proud to admit that Jaune did deserve better than that, and — as a fellow conduit — they should look out for each other because despite Delsin Rowe and Cole McGrath, there was a stigma that all of were monsters waiting to be unleashed.

Cardin was furious in the beginning when he discovered he had been sent to the training camp of the DUP by his dad, not understanding why. Then he got his latent abilities fully unleashed after being powered up by Augustine. His confidence grew in time with his powers and he was around to watch the DUP crumble and he returned to Empire City, now wielding concrete almost as fluidly as Augustine could. His father had been happy to see him, but had been less and less pleased with how Cardin had been parading around. Cardin wasn't blind to the fact that he was unashamedly an ass to everyone at the time, he was drunk on his abilities' rep. It took his father's reprimands and a list of his crimes — combined with a life sentence if all tallied together — to dampen his ego back to slightly cocky with much more humanity. He realized his father loved him enough to cover for him and still reprimand him to try to help him be a better man.

Jonathan Arc came and he resumed his old attitude, pushing down his own thoughts that maybe he should question why the guy wanted to push his own son to suicide. He convinced himself it didn't matter when it most certainly did. He had told his dad about what had been going on and his father was rightly furious at Cardin for being someone's attack dog, but what had stung the most was the disappointment that laced his father's fury. He couldn't fully hate or reprimand Cardin for falling to money's allure — better men than him had fallen for less and the total sum wasn't a paltry amount — but what he had to do to acquire it was wrong.

Cardin had already kicked himself for ever helping, and his father took no pleasure in his son's self-imposed misery.

But it was a better punishment that he could've ever devised.

He took a deep breath and a scowl plastered his face.

"Why is life never as easy as it should be?" He mused.

He let out a frustrated sigh and made his mind as he walked towards a certain cafe.

Time to begin walking the right path.

Jaune tried to scrub the weariness from his eyes as he finished his shift, nerves frayed and every muscle pulled taut like a bowstring. He was just so tired of how he had been as of late and wanted nothing more than to collapse right then and there. He took a deep breath and fought to keep himself from pulling the light to reenergize himself as he closed and locked the till. He took a moment to draw a slow breath when a hand gently closed on his shoulder, trying to get his attention. He barely managed to resist dissolving into light to move away as he recognized Blake had been the one to try to shake him out of his exhausted stupor.

"Jaune?" She said, worry evident in her tone, "You okay?"

He plastered on a smile and turned to her, "Fine. I'm good."

Blake's eyes narrowed and he flinched as her grip became tight, "No. You don't get to say that anymore."

Jaune grin faltered and he valiantly tried to maintain his facade of usual cheerfulness, but he knew it wouldn't hold. It was hard enough keeping up his smile during his shift after a few hours of fitful and uneasy sleep, doing that with Blake was just nearly impossible after a long day. Classes were easy to look despondent in without raising suspicion, practically everyone in the class was too busy or wearing the same expression. Jaune's ability to bend light around him to make himself practically invisible was invaluable once he found a secluded area to vanish, but the constant paranoia was getting to him. Every action had to be careful, every shadow in the corner of his vision suspect, every person scrutinized in case that conduit attacked him again showed his face.

Maybe if he had someone to confide in, he'd be able to let some of the tension vanish, but he couldn't let anyone know.

Too much was at stake.

Jaune couldn't tell Blake.

If he did and he lost her friendship…

It would just another thing his powers would've cost him, right?

Blake was his best friend.

He didn't know if he could handle losing everything all over again.

"Blake." He sighed involuntarily, "You don't need to worry about me. I'll manage."

"You don't get to tell me not to worry about my friends Jaune!" Blake near-growled, taking Yang's advice and refusing to drop this, "I already hated it back when Cardin knocked you around and I could let it go because you seemed to be okay, but now? Jaune you look like you're about to pass out everyday! Everyone can see it but you keep trying to brush everyone off when we ask! Don't you see that's not helping anyone? You're breaking down and you won't let anyone close enough to understand why!"

Jaune was not sure what to do, he had sometimes seen Blake act like this towards other — he was very aware of the stubbornness Blake possessed — but he had never experienced it being used on him. He knew that by the steely glint in Blake's eyes that she was tired of seeing him like this, and Jaune wasn't leaving until she had her answers. Sometimes he forgot that Blake wasn't just his best friend but a brilliant and loyal girl who was no pushover. Anyone who could stare down Cardin and keep calm when he was subtly intimidating them was worth fearing, powers or no.

But what could he possibly say?

'Don't worry, I was just one of the Conduits you heard about in the news and I am being targeted by Conduit who was trying to kill me. No need to worry about it though, I've got it under control!'

That would not go over well, even telling her could put her in his pursuer's crosshairs.

"Blake…" He began, fumbling in his head for words to follow up.

He couldn't figure it out, he tried to get his brain to think, but he could hear the empty grinding noise of his exhaustion making it hard to focus on too much.

"Don't you trust me?" She said, voice suddenly quiet and a twinge of hurt lacing her tone.

Jaune heart clenched, "I do. I trust you with my life Blake."

"Then tell me."

"I…" Jaune wavered, at war with himself.

"Please Jaune. I just want to help." She implored.

Jaune gritted his teeth behind his thinning lips, his head was starting to pound with a headache, every beat smashing in time with his heart rattling his ribcage. He was too stressed. He was too tired. He needed to calm down. He needed to do something. He needed to go. He needed to stay. He needed to answer. He needed to stay quiet. His vision blurred as frustrated tears built behind his eyes as his thoughts warred and ran amok inside his heart.

It was all too much. White noise filled his ears and blackness crept in the edges of his vision.

Was he about to have a panic attack? He was struggling to function.

"I can't. I can't lose you too." Jaune whimpered, pleading for her to just let it drop so he could go and shatter alone in his apartment.

"What is it that is so horrible that you're afraid like this?" Blake demanded, steeling herself against the pained look Jaune was displaying, "This is eating you up and I can't bear to see you like this Jaune. If you care for me at all you would tell me!"

Blake winced as that last bit came out, it was a low blow and she knew it. But she was tired of all this dancing around and avoidance Jaune was using. She had been patient and held back, but Yang was right when it came to Jaune. It wasn't fair to him and frankly Blake was sick of how little regard he held for himself. Did he not think himself worth the same level of care and self-respect that everyone should have? Jaune acted as thought he could only trust himself alone, shouldering every little problem he could and refusing help. He was finally breaking and he refused to acknowledge it; Blake wished she could do this gently, but sometimes you just had to throw dynamite in the fishing pond.

He wasn't a waste of time, at least not in Blake's eyes and she was done letting him carry his mountains of pain alone. He may not have wanted the help but he needed it, and she was willing to hold onto this if he tried to pull away.

Jaune clenched his fists and despaired, he knew it couldn't stay a secret forever, but he ran from it. He tried so hard to be normal and regular; to be someone that you wouldn't look twice to or in fear of. It was hard in the beginning, even after Curdun Cay his body wanted to naturally pull light to him and let his body pulse regularly. It had taken months of ironclad control to keep him from visibly drawing light, keeping it from being noticeable. Then Cardin came and started knocking him around while his powers inside screamed to be let out to crush the asshole. Now, even after Cardin stopped inexplicably, there was a new concrete Conduit that was trying to kill him, not just bully him as Cardin had before.

But he knew he couldn't run forever. Foolish idealism and reality almost never overlap and he had been foolish to think it could and idealistic to think that he could hide his situation forever.

Now he was causing pain to his best friend, something he never wanted to do.

He resigned himself with a sigh.

He had lost everything before and kept moving.

He'd just have to do the same thing here when he said it out loud.

Hollow pain punched him in the gut and expelled the air out of his lungs in three damning words.

"I'm a conduit." He ground out through his teeth.

Pin-drop silence.