Trails of Blood and Steel

by ultimatedbzmaniac

The Blood and Iron Chancellor, Giliath Osborne. The Debaucherous Prince, Olivert Reise Arnor. The board is set; the players are ready. Caught between these titans, Class VII are forced to serve as pieces in their game. However, three of these pieces: Rean Schwarzer, Fie Claussell, and Crow Armbrust; are not content simply being used. No, they would make this game their own.

1. The Way To Thors

I'll start this off by saying I love Trails to death. They're some of my favorite games of all time, and easily in my top five game series. I started with Cold Steel, and as of today, have played the entire Sky trilogy, and experienced Crossbell in the minimal way I could, with a walkthrough of the first one and playing the second with the fan translation. (Fingers crossed that the new PS4 versions of Zero and Ao get localized, so I can fully enjoy Crossbell.) So, in short, I fully intend to treat this story with the love and care and dedication that the series deserves.

I will, of course, be giving my own take on things; injuries, death, and other realities of life will play bigger roles here than in the Canon content. That being said, I have no intention of losing sight of the lighter tone Trails can take, I simply plan to ground the darkness and explore it a little more. Both the levity and the grim are part of what make this series great, after all.

Now, for those who have read this before; things have changed. I've rewritten both part 1 and part 2 of the prologue, as well as chapter 1 part 1. I've partially rewritten chapter 1 part 2. But for everything else, I just gave'em some touch-ups, minor edits, and sprinkled some very small additional scenes here and there. As such, the prologue, both parts, and the first chapter part will read more along the lines of the most recent chapters.

Overall, I've added a good bit; the size of this chapter is literally twice that of what it was originally. Aside from that, I've cleaned up what was already there, removed clutter that didn't belong, and just overall made it flow better. This new and improved version adds stuff to the narrative of this story that wasn't originally there, as such, all the chapters that follow this one have been edited to reflect that and keep things congruent.

For those that haven't read this before, welcome.

First and foremost, this is an a Canon Divergent story and kind of an AU; it is not a simple retelling. There are additional story elements, new characters, supplementary characterization, and a more in-depth look at Class VII; Rean, Fie, and Crow in particular. There are pairings, as there are in most stories, but they are not the end all be all to this story. Just like the games, there's more than romance; all sorts of relationships will be explored.

With that said, I know how people can be about their pairings, so I'll just come right out and list the future pairings here, just so everyone knows where things are going. I don't really like revealing this sort of thing too much, not upfront at least, but I figure it's probably for the best.

ReanXFie (Possible small harem in the future, undecided.)

MachiasXEmma

Possible GaiusXLinde

None of these are established, which means they will be built, for the most part, from scratch. There will most likely be more in the future, but these are the ones that are in mind for now. Also, I won't lie to anyone, they will not be given equal screen-time, sorry. However, I will do my utmost best to give each couple their moments.

Anyway, let's move on.

I do not own the rights to any characters or ideas from the video game series: The Legend Of Heroes. They are the sole property of the company that created them, Nihon Falcom, and no attempt will be made to obtain any profit from the use of said property. I also do not own this awesome fanart that I'm using for the story cover, I found it using google search.

Without further ado, let part 1 of the prologue begin. Please read, review, and enjoy.

---

The night was as cold as it was dark, and all was silent. Even the sound of the whipping winds of the blizzard that raged could no longer be heard, the only evidence of it ever having existed in the first place being the thick, layered blankets of snow covering the ground in all directions, along with the visible snowdrift that had occurred as a result of the storm.

What should have been a sight akin to a wintry-white wonderland, was visibly tainted; puddles of blood infected the ice crystals of the snowfield, coloring them crimson...

Suddenly, haggard, labored breathing penetrated the barrier of silence. It originated from a young silver-haired girl, no older than seven or eight. She struggled to remain on her feet, to stand up straight, even as her tiny frame bled alarmingly profusely for something so small. Why was she so desperate to remain standing? To maintain her defensive stance in front of two other children behind her; a black-haired boy nine years of age, and a dark-purple-haired girl around the same age as her protector.

The two other children watched from behind, mouths agape, as the lime-green eyed girl fought to keep her footing, gasping for air as she once more put her arms out protectively in front of them. "I...I w-won't le-let you h-hu-hurt t-th-them..."

Across from them stood a man; a tall, imposing man, bearing light skin, purple eyes and black hair. This man carried a large machete; the blade of which had traces of the silver-haired girl's blood smeared across it.

Once he'd heard the young girl's determined words, he began to cackle. "Hahahahahahahahaha! Like you could actually stop me, girl!" He clearly found her struggle quite amusing. "You tried and failed already to stop me; what makes you think you could do it now, not two minutes later?" It was unclear whether his question was rhetorical or not, it mattered little though, as the little girl made no effort to answer it.

A smug smirk crossed his face as he continued to speak, "Why don't you just stand aside kid; I'll let you go if you do. Consider it a reward for showing me how tough you are. I mean, it's not like I want to kill you, but if you keep getting in my way, I'll have no choice, ya know?" He paused for a moment, as if waiting for an answer, before continuing to speak anyway. "We're both jaegers, aren't we? You should know how this goes. I've got a contract to complete, and I don't care who I have to go through to get it done. Even if it means killing Zephyr's little urchin tag-along and pissing them off in the process." His smirk had fallen away at that, his gaze intense, his eyes managing to portray his power, allowing him to effectively intimidate the three children before him.

Nevertheless, the silver-haired girl did not falter. "N-no...they...they're...important to me...they're...m-my f-fa-fam-family, I wo-won't le-let y-yo-you t-tou-touch th-them!" She asserted with what little strength she had left; digging her heels into the snow as she acted like a shield for those behind her.

"Family? You've got to be kidding me." The man remarked with a roll of his eyes. "You've only been here since Zephyr started duking it out with my corp, so, like six months at most? I swear, such melodramatics could only come from idiotic children like you." He derided her with a scowl. "You know nothing of family!" He barked harshly with restrained contempt.

The small girl had nothing to say in response; whether she lacked the strength to speak or simply didn't wish to was anyone's guess.

"You've taken up more than enough of my time, stupid girl; move it, or you die with them." With that ultimatum put forth, the man moved forward toward the three, raising his machete as he did.

Even still, the girl made no effort to get out of the way. She had every intention of protecting the other two children with her life. Realizing what she was doing, the oldest of the three kids finally found his voice and shouted, "Run away Fie!"

His call managed to snap the other girl out of it as well, as she repeated his sentiment. "Run Fie!"

Neither wished any harm to befall their friend, they'd rather she flee and save herself than die trying to protect them.

Ignoring them, the girl known as Fie, forced herself forward and jumped at the man as he drew too close. In doing this, she intercepted the cleave of his weapon, only to receive a large gash across her tiny body for her efforts; the red of her blood mixing with the white of the snow as it splattered onto the ground.

With a cry of agony, she hit the ground along with the ruby liquid that had been drawn from her body, clutching at her new wound and writhing around as she did; the pain so intense it wracked her entire body. Young children weren't meant to withstand such grievous injuries, it was a miracle she was even still alive. But the fact remained that she was, her ear piercing screams of agony were proof of that.

With a flick of his wrist, the man shook most of the blood from the steel of his weapon; the red substance landing on more of the snow and dyeing it in the process. "Stupid brat, you've no idea what being a jaeger really means. Your lack of combat training and your attachment to these two shows that through and through." He disparaged the prepubescent girl, before turning his attention away from her, once more laying eyes on his two targets as he did.

One of whom was screaming their head off, the girl, crying out the other girl's name with horror and concern while tears flowed down her face like a waterfall, and the other...

The nine-year-old boy simply fell to his knees, the snow crunching beneath him as they smacked the ground. Eyes opened almost unnaturally wide, his pupils were dilated, vision consumed with nothing but his dying friend and the bloody snow that she rest upon. His senses faded as he honed in on her, his hearing dying out, along with his surroundings vanishing from his sight; his sense of feeling was the next to go, the boy no longer capable of even feeling his face, his whole body seemingly having gone completely numb. He was in a state of complete shock, unable to properly process what was happening...

"Let go of me!" The purple-haired girl cried, as the man took hold of a fistful of her long strands and yanked her back toward him.

"Come to think of it..." The man began, suddenly thinking aloud. "The contract didn't pertain to you, girl; meaning I can do what I see fit." He disclosed. "And I bet you'd fetch a nice ransom, what with you being the daughter of a baron and all." He noted to himself. "So why don't you sit tight while I kill your brother, and I promise I won't hurt you." His assurance was twisted; not for the fact that he took delight it what he was doing, rather it was the opposite. He spoke of such things like one would talk about mundane topics, with complete disinterest.

It became evident that, even as he prepared to take a child's life, he thought of this as just business. With Fie he found a speck of amusement; in this, it was nothing but his job.

"NO!" The purple-haired girl shrieked at the top of her lungs, as she wrapped her arms around the man's wrist and tried to root him to the ground, to keep him from moving toward her sibling. She was scared out of her mind, she had every right to be; but she feared for her brother even more than herself. Unfortunately, all she got for her attempt to stop the man was a backhand to the face, the blow knocking her to the ground.

"Elise!" The boy yelled her name with anxious concern, his tunnel-like vision shifting to her as she was knocked down.

"ST-STOP!" Fie shouted desperately, barely able to force the words out in the state she was in. Yet still, she struggled on; she went so far as to reach out and grab the assailant by one of his ankles, almost causing him to trip as he tried to continue walking forward.

"Damn brat!" The jaeger spat with anger, his attention diverted to the silver-haired kid once more. "You're just an annoying little bug, aren't you? Fine, you give me no choice, I'll just finish you off." He stated his intentions, as he raised his weapon to deliver a swift end to the small girl. "I gave you a chance, but you didn't take it. You've only got yourself to blame!" He proclaimed darkly.

"Fie, Elise..." The dark-haired boy muttered their names under his breath as he found himself unable to do anything but watch in complete disbelief; frozen with shock and fear; he couldn't bring his body to move so much as a single rege.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl for the boy in that instance; the events began to transpire in slow motion, the child able to perceive every little detail of each and every single movement that was made; the horrendous implications of what was occurring somehow eluded his comprehension for the moment. And while the scene before him moved at a snail's pace, the sounds, their voices, the screams and grunts and the crunching of the snow; it was all muffled; it was as if the nine year old was hearing everything from underwater. And yet, in the next moment, it was to the contrary; the sounds blasted in his eardrums with enough force to rupture them; as the dark reality of the situation finally sunk in, everything sped back up.

"FIE! ELISE!" He cried their names with despair, the tears he'd been holding back all this time finally breaking free and beginning to flood down his face; the two people he cared about most in the world were going to be taken away; one to be whisked away to who knows where, and the other killed, her life stolen...he would never see her again.

With that realization, something inside the young boy snapped. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Something between a cry of agony and rage ripped itself from his throat; despite the incredible volume of his screaming, which continued to drag on, the only thing the boy could hear was the constant thump, thump, thump of his heartbeat; it's pace having sped up drastically. Beating erratically and without rhythm, the sound reverberated through his ear canals.

Power began to leak from his small body in copious amounts, gaining the attention of the other three; the boy forced himself to his feet, as a demonic red aura formed around him: black splashes, dark as sin, shaped almost like bolts of lightning, mixed openly with the almost flame like crimson energy. Simultaneously, the small boy's hair began to change, his raven locks bleeding into a white, almost silver, color; his eyes, originally fuchsia, now mimicked the shade of the blood staining the snow around them. Finally, as his cry rang out, his voice began to audibly change; dropping a octave, it took on some strange characteristics as it was modulated to the point where it sounded almost inhuman.

As this transformation occurred, the boy began cradling his head in his hands; it felt like his mind would shatter from the incredible surge of power flowing through him, which when combined with the the terribly frightful prospect of losing the two people closest to him, had the nine-year-old on the very edge of a complete breakdown.

Completely taken aback by what they were bearing witness to, neither Fie, Elise or the jaeger could so much as bring themselves to blink, frozen by the sheer presence of the power before them. It was staggering and unlike anything any of them had ever felt before: pure rage, violent bloodlust and the darkest malice; these qualities were the makeup for this power, this aura.

"W-Wha-What i-is t-this?" The jaeger, in complete shock, stuttered out.

It was then that the child's cry finally came to an end; removing his hands from his head, he raised it from it's lowered position and looked directly at the three still forms across the way from him.

Fie and Elise couldn't help the breath that escaped them as they gasped at his appearance, the change now fully complete. This was so out of this realm, they could hardly believe their eyes...

"Rean..." They both whispered his name in unison.

Without warning, the child known as Rean proceeded to vanish.

Only to reappear a moment later where the jaeger was once standing but was no longer; in a mere second, the small child had closed the distance and nailed the mercenary with a powerful blow that knocked him off his feet and sent him tumbling back through the snow, causing plenty of the white cloud-like substance to get knocked up into the air as a result.

Now standing over both Fie and Elise, the two girls were exposed to the full brunt of Rean's aura. It was overwhelming, suffocating even, the air seemingly having been sucked out of their lungs as the energy radiating from him licked at their skin. Worse still, they found that, no matter how much they tried, they could not bring their bodies to breathe in and replace that lost oxygen. This left them able to only gawk at the boy in stupefaction.

"What the fuck!?" The jaeger exclaimed with shock and incredulity, wincing in pain as he sat up from his downed position; he'd forced his body against the ground to kill the momentum after he'd been attacked, allowing him to come to a stop after about four arge or so. "How could a kid like him possibly...!?" His query died in his throat, as he finally got a good look at the child who'd just manhandled him.

Rean's eyes remained wide open as they were before, seemingly frozen in some sort of perma-shock state, giving him an almost vacant look. Yet, despite that sense of vacancy, darkness and rage visibly swirled like whirlpools in his crimson eyes. And these eyes, eyes that made one question if the one who owned them was even sane, were staring right back at the jaeger, meeting his gaze.

"J-Just what kind of freak are you, kid!?" The mercenary inquired, unable to hide the hint of fear in his shaky words.

No response. The child simply continued to stare; an inkling came to the man's mind then, it being that the 'child' staring him down might not be entirely human. 'All the more reason to to get this over with and kill the little bastard.' He resolved.

Reaching for his weapon, the purple-eyed man began to pick himself up off the ground. However, as he reached out, all he grabbed hold of was a handful of snow. This gave him pause. Taking a moment to look at his weaponless hand, his eyes widened in realization.

Eyes darting back to the child, he saw the small being was no longer looking at him, his vision instead focused on the ground before him, where the jaeger's machete lie.

The man had dropped it when he'd been blown back by the force of the kid's attack. He was now unarmed. And worse still...

The 'child' reached down and took hold of the machete's grip, claiming the weapon for his own. Now armed, his gaze returned to the jaeger.

In that moment, as the boy's eyes were placed upon him once more, a shiver ran down the black-haired sellsword's spine and his stomach dropped, as dread completely consumed him; he was overcome by the immense killing intent exuding from the seemingly inhuman nine-year-old.

Biting down on his tongue hard enough to draw blood, the man began shaking his head furiously to snap himself out of it; the mercenary beat down his ever mounting terror, absolutely refusing to admit, even to himself, that a kid could instill such fear in him.

Closing his eyes for the briefest of moments, due to the self-inflicted pain; he resumed his attempt to become vertical once more, as he hurriedly tried getting onto his feet. However, he made a fatal mistake in taking his eyes off what was once his prey.

On his knees was when his eyes reopened, just a simple, single push against the ground between him and being upright once more; he came face to face with the unhinged boy. He'd lost track of the kid's movements for only a moment or two, and in that minuscule span of time, he'd closed in on him to the point where he was right in his face. Eyes wide, the mercenary was taken aback, momentarily unable to so much as breathe or blink in the face of this...creature.

He should have reacted by attacking first, or better yet, fled entirely. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't given a chance to do either. For the machete Rean now brandished was already coming down upon him.

The man's own weapon was then buried in his left shoulder, blood splashing all over the place as the metal was forced deep into his flesh, slicing through muscle tissue, tendons, ligaments and even some bone; his arm was nearly severed from his torso in this single swipe, only thin strands of flesh and what remained of the shoulder-joint keeping it attached.

The mercenary shrieked at the top of his lungs in agony, his voice ringing throughout the night as he vocalized his immense pain. Red ran down him and soaked into the snow, as blood gushed from his mutilated shoulder. The ruby substance was further splattered across the snow and the man's body, as the machete was roughly yanked out of his flesh.

"SUNUVA BITCH!" He cursed with as much volume as he could, clutching at the grave wound with his good arm as he fell back into the snow; trying to keep his body together, he pushed his arm back against his torso where it once belonged. Needless to say, it wasn't very effective; whether he was simply in shock and was acting out of desperation, or he genuinely thought to stem the blood-flow, only Aidios knew.

Rean was far from done; having moved to the side of the man, he raised the machete and swung down again.

Despite the haze his mind was in thanks to the anguish he was enduring, the jaeger had just enough of his wits about him to evade the down-swing of the weapon, evading it by swiftly rolling to the side and out of the way. It didn't spare him entirely, however, as while he avoided the worst of it, his reaction time had been just a tad too slow, resulting in the blade still meeting flesh. A deep gash had been torn into his previously uninjured arm, which pulled another scream of pain from him.

Damaged his good arm may be, however, unlike his left one, he could still move it. So, adrenaline rushing through him, the man said to hell with the pain and used the less injured of his arms to push himself up onto his knees once more. From there, he was going to jerk his body upward and force himself to his feet, only...his predator was there waiting for him, in his face again, just as before.

Eyes wide with ever mounting desperation and fear, it was then that the sellsword truly realized how the tables had turned, and that he'd become the prey.

So taken off guard by this, his mind nearly failed to register the fact that the machete was swinging for his neck. His survival instincts won out at the last moment though, forcing his mental faculties into gear; his body, almost on autopilot, flung itself backward into the snow, landing none too gently on the hard ground beneath the ice crystals.

Alas, it wasn't enough to remove him from harm's way; a single stride forward and the child was within striking distance, as such, he proceeded to bring the machete down upon the older man's legs, cleaving through flesh, muscle and tendons, the steel clanking as it hit bone.

"FUUUUUUCK!" The mercenary gave voice to his great pain in the form of a single, loud obscenity.

It was at this point that the overwhelming pain being inflicted upon him, combined with the oppressive energy emanating from his predator, overrode his sense of pride, leaving only the fear to take over. And with that single emotion driving his actions, rationality was all but abandoned, as he proceeded to roll a good distance away from his assailant and flip over onto his stomach. From there he used his still functioning arm to force himself up onto his knees; he hissed in extreme discomfort upon doing so and had no choice but to support himself more with his working arm, as he attempted to get to his feet.

He managed to jerk his body in such a way that he was upright once more, however, the moment his wounded legs were made to bear his weight, they gave out, causing him to collapse face first onto the ground. Still driven by his all encompassing desire to escape, he wasted no time in continuing his attempt to get away; his legs may have been too damaged to support his weight, but he still had the use of an arm. So, despite the added pain in overexerting his single mobile limb, he began using it to crawl away. He drug his body across the cold, hard ground, in an effort to escape the devil in human skin.

All his effort was in vain, as Rean was upon him in the blink of an eye, machete raised high in the air.

In that moment, something compelled the mercenary to look behind him, where his frightened eyes locked with the dark, haunting eyes of his attacker; a fresh surge of terror flooded his being. "Monster! Demon! GET AWAY FROM ME!" The grown man exclaimed with pure horror.

His exclamation soon turned to shrieks of fear and agony, as the machete was brought down upon him yet again, cutting into his back.

The small boy did not stop there, pulling the blade of the weapon free from the man's flesh with a nasty squelch, before slashing down at him again, eliciting another cry of agony. Pulling back, the child repeated his actions and slashed down once more, another shriek being the reward for his actions. Still he continued, bringing the machete down again and again; each stroke of the weapon came faster and with more force behind it, as the nine-year-old poured all his hate and rage into his assault.

The child's inexperience showed, as in spite of the numerous wounds he'd inflicted, his prey was still alive. Writhing on the ground in absolute anguish, the jaeger was screaming bloody murder as he tried to get away, to no avail. After so many lacerations had been inflicted, and the massive blood loss, the man was on the verge of delirium and death. Desperate could not begin to describe him, as he began to beg and plead for his life through the haze of absolute pain.

His pleas fell on deaf ears; his beseech for mercy only served to enrage Rean further, the boy shouting in anger as he brought the machete down once again. The boy's pace grew swifter, bringing the blade down over and over again, furiously hacking away at the mercenary's body; he began to scream and grunt and pant in his effort to kill, destroy, annihilate this man, he wanted, needed to extinguish his existence.

Blood spurted, splattered and splashed in every direction as Rean erratically carved away at the jaeger; he lacked any skill or control over his weapon, but that didn't stop him from continuing his bloody frenzy until finally, finally, he achieved what he sought: the death of the man who threatened Fie and Elise.

The snow ran red with the jaeger's blood; crimson was everywhere.

Rean lowered the weapon, holding it at his side as he tried to catch his breath; his labored breathing came out as wisps in the chilly night air. Drip, drip, drip came the blood, trickling off the steel of the machete in thick droplets; the weapon had once been stained with the blood of a young girl, now it was bathed in the life essence of the one who once wielded it.

The jaeger had come to kill this child, yet found himself slain by this same child's hands, using the man's very own weapon to do the deed.

...

Rean just stood there for quite some time, unable to pry his eyes away from the butchered corpse of the jaeger. It was covered in blood and gashes, the abdomen had been sliced open: the spine was in thirds, the ribcage, which had been cut to pieces, was visible for all to see; flesh and muscle tissue were in hunks around the cadaver, having been hacked out. Organs were sliced up like meat at a slaughterhouse, the heart was no longer recognizable, the liver was in ribbons, the intestines were unrecognizable, cut into too many pieces to count, and the rest, while still intact, had deep lacerations rended into them. It was truly a dreadful sight to behold.

...

Finally, the boy was able to tear his eyes away from the sight; lifting his head, he turned to look at Fie and Elise some ten arge away, both of whom were gaping at him in a mix of emotions. Disturbed expressions were plastered onto their faces from what they had just bore witness to.

And yet, despite the fact that they had just watched him tear that grown man apart from start to finish, despite the fact that the power exuding from him completely overwhelmed them to the point of near suffocation, despite his awful appearance: nearly his entire body, head to toe, was covered in his victim's blood; despite everything...

He saw no fear in their eyes.

That was the last thing his mind registered, before he finally lost consciousness.

---

PROLOGUE

...

Septian Calendar 1204
3/31 - Wednesday

The outskirts of Heimdallr, on a passenger train bound for Bareahard

Rean woke with a start, nearly falling out of his seat as his body jerked forward: he caught himself by the armrest of the booth, effectively preventing the collision that his face would have had with the seat in front of him.

Taking a moment, the dark-haired boy took a few deep breaths in an effort to calm his erratic heartbeat. Head down, his fuchsia colored eyes were locked on his feet, as he reigned his racing mind in.

It only took a second for it to click in his brain; he was on a train, on his way to the town of Trista for his first day of school, not...back there.

Forcing his muscles to untense as he attempted to calm down; he quietly told himself, "It was just a nightmare."

That was a lie.

Leaning back in his seat, he closed his eyes once more and breathed a deep sigh; the tension faded from him. 'That's not true.' He silently contradicted himself. 'Nightmares are figments of imagination. That...that was all too real.' He acknowledged this to himself; no matter how much he desired to, he would never, could never, forget that day. Nor could he try and pretend that it was something he'd just dreamt up.

...

After a minute or so of reflection, Rean opened his eyes back up and allowed them to wander. From the lack of eyeballs staring in his direction, it was safe to say no one had noticed his abnormal behavior; no one so much as spared him a glance as his gaze swept over the other passengers in the train-car. Said passengers were almost entirely comprised of students, like him; however, there was one core difference between him and them, he noticed.

With the exception of his footwear: short dark-brown boots with straps on the sides and white soles, Rean wore the uniform that'd been sent to him by the academy; a buttoned red and white blazer with a simple white undershirt and accompanying blue tie, as well as a pair of standard black pants. The other students though, while wearing the same blazer design, sported different colors. The undershirt may have still been white, but the jackets were green and white, their ties were red, and they donned tan slacks instead of dark pants. The girls present wore skirts rather than pants, but adhered to the same color-scheme regardless.

The raven-haired teen wondered why that was.

'Perhaps it's indicative of my class?' He theorized. 'That's the only explanation that comes to mind, at least...' He had no real way of knowing, of course, but he figured it was worth considering nevertheless.

"The Ministry of Railways wishes to thank all passengers for their patronage. This train is bound for Bareahard via Celdic. The next stop is...Trista. Trista." Came a female voice over the train intercom, pulling Rean from his thoughts.

"Looks like we're about to arrive." The fuchsia-eyed seventeen year old commented to himself, as he reached for the long, dark-purple bag resting in the seat adjacent to him.

"We will be stopped at Trista for one minute. When disembarking, please ensure no belongings are left behind." The female voice continued.

Slam!

All of a sudden, a loud thud sound filtered through the intercom, causing a few passengers to cringe and reflexively cover their ears.

"What-Who are-" The female voice was cut off, as the intercom ceased broadcasting.

Most of those present, confusion written all over their faces, looked up to where the speaker for the intercom sat on a wall, as if it would give them the answer as to what that was all about.

"What's going on?" Rean wondered aloud to himself, eyebrows furrowing.

Then, a metallic screeching sound pierced the passengers' ears, as the entire train lurched forward; anyone who hadn't been covering their ears before was now regretting it and attempting to rectify their mistake. That worked against them, however, as they were thrown about all over the train-car from the sudden surge of movement.

The only one to remain standing in was one Rean Schwarzer, who, unlike the others present, was capable of catching himself and retaining his footing; everyone else was now sprawled out over the floor and the seats, and a few unlucky individuals, who'd collided with walls, were only half-conscious as they hugged their points of impact.

Shouts and yells of panic and shock proceeded as people toppled over each other and were jostled about violently; the car was filled with moans and groans and a few curses from all those to have just taken a spill as they began recovering and getting back up. That wasn't as easy as it should have been, as the ton of metal they were riding in continued to shake them about.

Taking a moment to survey the scene, the dark-haired teen noted that, luckily, no one seemed to have suffered any real injuries, at least not at first glance; plenty of bumps and bruises, of course, but nothing serious. A few people had been knocked for a loop thanks to their face-first meeting with the wall, but overall, none of them truly seemed any worse for the ware.

Content with that for now, the fuchsia-eyed boy took a brief moment to peer out through the window closest to him, to see what was going on.

What filled his vision were the sparks spitting out from where the vehicle met the tracks, which was indicatory of metal on metal friction. This, combined with the the fact that they were rapidly losing speed, made the conclusion as to what that sound had been quite obvious: someone had activated the emergency brake.

The shrill, pain inducing sound continued for well over a minute, until the locomotive's momentum finished dying out and the train came to a complete stop.

"This can't be good." Rean opined to himself with some concern, as he pulled away from the window.

Almost as if responding to him, the intercom crackled back to life.

"I'll make this simple; if you don't wanna get hurt, stay in your seats and keep your mouths shut." A new, distinctly male, voice barked through the speaker. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is a train robbery." The man announced shortly after his first statement; his choice of words seemed to suggest some sort of mirth or levity, but his tone only conveyed an abundance of confidence. "Two men will be coming to each car to collect your valuables; hand them over. Once we have what we came for, we'll let you go, nice and easy. So behave and we'll have this over as quickly as possible." The sound of the intercom being shut off followed immediately after.

A myriad of voices erupted after that proclamation; anxious mutterings, concerned whispers, frightened exclamations, dubious remarks and skeptical musings all coalesced into a cacophony of noise.

"I can't believe this is happening..."

"What is going on!?"

"Is this for real?"

"What do we do?!"

"Who the hell was that!?"

"This has to be a joke, right?"

"I don't have anything on me: what am I gonna do?!"

The boy tuned them out, for the most part, as he took a moment to let his 'sixth sense' do it's thing.

...

'They've already reached the last car; I can sense two of them at the door.'

At that same moment, the door to the next train-car opened and two men barged in.

"Everyone shut up and sit down!" One of them snapped at the panicking passengers; having been subjected to hearing people freak out from the front of the train all the way to the back had irritated him greatly, apparently.

Immediately everyone went quiet, and all eyes were on the two.

These men wore dark blue-grey military garb: consisting of form-fitting trousers, matching long-sleeved tunics accented by white lines outlining the borders of the material, and dark violet boots with visible steel toe protection. Additionally, they sported light-brown strap-pads on their arms and legs, similarly colored belts with straps attached that ran over their shoulders and to the dark packs worn on their backs, as well as shoulder pads and protective gauntlets of a slightly darker shade of brown. Finally, black combat helmets adorned their heads with grey cloths draping out of them and covering the back of their heads and their side profiles; paired with tinted goggles to block their eyes from view and another, smaller piece of cloth to obscure the bottom half of their faces: guaranteeing their anonymity.

More than any of that, however, it was the heat they were packing that caught most everyone's attention: orbal machine-guns.

Needless to say, the passengers did as they were told and took their seats, not wishing to earn the ire of the armed men.

Rean did as the others, obeying the men and sitting back down.

Not wasting time, the two disguised men got to it. The first pulled out a generic sack and began walking down the aisle of the train-car, going seat by seat, dictating each passenger fork over any mira, jewelry or anything else of worth on their person; the second stood guard near the door, watching for any sudden movements or aggressive actions from their captives.

Not willing to risk the violent consequences that would occur if they did not comply, the passengers all began handing over their valuables, one by one.

...

It wasn't long before the man with the sack reached Rean's seat.

"Any mira you got, hand it over. Anything else of value, I'll take that too." The robber said simply.

Without putting up an the slightest bit of fight, the black-haired boy reached into his jacket and pulled out his black-leather wallet and gave it to the man, who dropped it into the sack.

The lack of resistance made things go smoothly, so smoothly, in fact, that the gun-toting man even took a step away to move onto the next seat, thinking himself done with this one. Unfortunately, he stopped, having realized there was still something else to take. Turning back to the teenager, he spoke once more, "What's in the bag?", he gestured to the long, dark-purple bag resting in the seat across from said teen.

"Nothing worth much." The seventeen-year-old replied nonchalantly, almost brusquely.

"Me and the boys'll be the judge of that: hand it over."

Rean wanted to protest, but knew it would be pointless to do so. With little choice, he acquiesced to the demand and handed his bag over to the criminal.

The man didn't bother to check inside, rather he slung the bag over his shoulder and simply moved onto the next person he was to shakedown.

...

Not long after the teen's bag had been confiscated, the man who'd taken it finished his rounds, having collected everything everyone in the car had to offer. As such, he didn't stick around much longer; in short order, the guy with the sack let his fellow know what he was doing and exited the car, presumably to take his haul to the boss or whoever was in charge of their take.

'There goes my sword; that's going to make things a bit more difficult.' Rean thought to himself with irritation. 'However...' The boy's eyes sought out the remaining man. 'There's only one now...' He noted. 'This might be my opportunity...'

Waiting until the man standing guard's eyes shifted away from him and focused his attention elsewhere, the raven-haired teenager prepared to stand up and make a move. Only, his chance was dashed the same moment it presented itself; the door was suddenly thrown open and someone was tossed onto the floor from the next train-car.

"OOF!" Came the noise from the person who hit the floor; a combination of pain and air escaping their lungs.

Eyes drawn to this person, everyone quickly took in their appearance. It was a teenager, a boy of average build; he possessed light skin, short dark-green hair, forest-green eyes and glasses with black frames. What caught a certain swordsman's attention in particular, was the red uniform the guy was sporting, nearly identical to his own. The only differences were the black collared undershirt in place of white, and that he wore a different style of black pants, more akin to slacks; the shoes he sported were cadet-gray and had brown soles.

Another of the armed men followed the thrown teen, closing the door behind them as they entered the car; the number of gun-toting thieves had returned to two once more.

"What's going on?" The man who'd been standing guard questioned.

"This kid had the bright idea to try and fight us." The newcomer stated, brandishing a carrying case as he did; the lid was open, showing the orbal shotgun contained within. "He ain't shit without his gun, though; just a weak brat who's too big for his breeches." The man denigrated the teen, before shutting the case.

"Fancied himself a hero, did he?" The other guy cracked with a chuckle.

"Yeah, some hero. He didn't last five seconds before going down." The newcomer informed his ally with a tad of mirth. "You should've seen how he flailed about, was totally hilarious."

The two men began to laugh at that.

Meanwhile, the bespectacled teen had begun pulling himself up off the floor. Halfway up, on his hands and knees, he caught their attention; glaring at them, he answered their barbs with his own aspersions. "Make fun of me all you like; doesn't change the fact that you're nothing but a bunch of pathetic thugs."

It was far from a scathing remark, yet, the two men seemed rather angered by it all the same.

The newcomer responded to the teenager's words with a kick to the ribs, the blow to the side knocking him off his hands and knees and reintroducing his face to the ground; this elicited a curse from the spectacle wearing boy.

"Watch your mouth, punk!" The man who'd kicked him warned.

"You're talking to elite jaegers!" The other boasted.

'Jaegers? Why would jaegers go through the trouble of robbing a simple commuter train?' Rean couldn't help but wonder. Before he could try and work out an answer, though, his attention was pulled back to the situation at hand.

"Uck!" The downed teenager coughed hard as the air was forced from his lungs with another kick, followed by another.

As the men grew more violent with him, there was no time to think further; the raven-haired boy stood up from his seat. As one of the jaegers prepared to kick the defenseless boy once more, he intervened.

Inserting himself between his fellow teen and the men, Rean halted the assault. "That's enough." He stated calmly, yet firmly. "We've complied with your demands; there's no reason for this." He continued, pointedly making eye-contact with the mercenaries. "You're supposed to be jaegers, right? In that case, he poses no threat to you; you don't have to be so rough. Please, just lay off of him." He appealed to them.

Behind him, the bespectacled boy clutched at his stomach, yet something other than the pain held his focus; his eyes widened as he watched some guy he'd never even seen before stand up for him.

"You have some balls, kid." The first jaeger gave what was, most likely, a compliment.

"Talking to us like that, you must be crazy." The second jaeger commented. "Give us one good reason why we would we listen to a punk like you?" The way he phrased it, it was clear he wasn't expecting an answer.

The young swordsman gave one anyway. "To start, it makes you look like easily-offended, petty thugs." He tersely informed them.

"Why you little-" The mercenary carrying the case, in his anger, decided to use it as an impromptu club and proceeded to drive it into the stomach of the dark-haired boy who dared to speak to them like that.

Rean gasped at the sudden, unexpected impact to his torso; he held his stomach in pain.

"Mouthing off to us, you really are crazy." The other mercenary sneered, before ramming the sole of his boot into the teenager's shoulder; the kick knocked him back into the side of one of the empty seats, where he would collide with it and crumple to the ground afterward.

The two men went on to talk at the swordsman for a number of moments, speaking of how he was just some punk and that they were accomplished jaegers who'd seen things far worse than he could imagine; paying their words little heed, the swordsman propped himself up into a sitting position.

With his back against the booth-seat he'd been kicked into, he reconsidered the notion of fighting back. 'Letting them hit me probably wasn't the best idea.' He acknowledged to himself. 'But I couldn't think of anything else; if I attacked them and they decided to retaliate by opening fire, I'd have no way of stopping them, not barehanded, at least. I'd be getting people killed; I can't do that. Though the idea of playing their punching bag isn't exactly appealing, either.'

"If you know what's good for you, you'll stay down." The first jaeger threatened.

"You're lucky we didn't just shoot you." The second jaeger added. "If you get the stupid idea of trying to resist further, we'll make you regret it."

The raven-haired teenager held both men's attention, even downed: that was their mistake.

The bespectacled boy pulled himself up off the floor, gaining the attention of the mercenary closest to him. But as the man opened his mouth to speak, the teen threw himself forward and tackled him. The sudden attack knocked the mugger off balance, and both he and his attacker went down. Landing awkwardly against one of the seats, the armed man found the armrest jammed into his back as a result.

The other jaeger dropped the carrying case at that, letting it fall to the floor, and took hold of his firearm. Shifting his focus from the teen he'd assaulted, he moved to respond to the attack on his ally in kind.

Finger on the trigger, the mercenary tried to get the green-haired boy in his crosshairs, but, his target was locked-up on the floor with one of his own; the two attempting to overpower each other made it difficult to line up a shot. "You're gonna regret-Ugh!"

The gun-toting man didn't get the chance to finish his sentence, let alone actually fire his weapon; before he knew what was happening, he was struck in the side of his right arm, his dominant arm, in a way that caused him to loosen his grip on his machine-gun. As he grunted and gasped in pain and surprise, he realized who'd done it: the raven-haired boy, who was once more on his feet.

Quickly following up, the unarmed swordsman grabbed the jaeger's gun by the barrel and pushed downward, forcing the armed-thief to aim at the floor; in an attempt fight back, the criminal lashed out with a left hook. The punch landed, as the man's fist impacted the teen's face; at the same time, the dark-haired boy had driven the hilt of his open palm into the mugger's right side. The man's ribs were hit with more force than he'd expected the teen could produce, moreover, it was more than he could handle.

Groaning, the mercenary's grip slackened considerably, allowing his attacker to pry the gun from his grasp: he'd effectively been disarmed. Furthermore, the grown man faltered and collapsed to his knees before his young assailant; clutching his right side in pain, he bit down on his tongue so as to not cry out.

Tossing the gun aside, it clattering against the ground, the dark-haired boy proceeded to end the confrontation with a punch. His knuckles slammed into the criminal's goggles and his face beneath them, cracking the eyewear as they were forcibly dug into the skin of the wearer; a mere right straight served as the knockout blow.

Unconscious, the jaeger fell back and hit the ground with a light thump.

Rean shook his right hand reflexively, as if this simple action would rid the extremity of the dull pain that coursed through it from smashing into the man's face and headgear.

Paying his hand little mind, the fuschia-eyed teen turned his attention to the bespectacled boy still on the floor, struggling with the older man as they each tried to attain the upper hand.

The forest-green-eyed teen grit his teeth and mustered all his strength, before proceeding to power through. Grappling the mercenary, the teen endured the shaking and jerking of his own body in addition to physical blows, and shoved his opponent to the side with all the might he possessed, forcing the man headfirst into a wall. With a clunk, the man's helmet-clad skull slammed into the steel train, disorienting him.

The advantage his, the bespectacled boy capitalized and nailed the mercenary in the face with a kick, the force of which caused his head to snap back, where it collided with the metal surface once more. The impact was greater than the first, as such, this time, the thief was rendered unconscious; knocked out, he slumped over onto the ground.

Having managed to get the better of the robber, the green-haired teen took a moment to catch his breath and collect himself. 'When I got on the train this morning, I was not expecting this.'

...

"Are you alright?"

The boy looked up at that and saw the dark-haired teen who'd come to his aid moments before, hand outstretched towards him; forest-green met fuschia as he reached out to grasp it.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Nothing more than a few bumps and bruises." He relayed; taking the offered hand, he was pulled to his feet.

"Glad to hear it."

Vertical once more, the bespectacled teenager voiced his gratitude "Thanks for the help. They likely would have beaten me senseless if you hadn't stepped in when you did, perhaps worse."

"I should be the one thanking you." Rean contended. "I wasn't sure when or even if an opportunity to fight back would present itself. You gave me the opening I needed; if it wasn't for you, I doubt I would have been able to handle that without getting myself shot."

"While I appreciate the sentiment, the skill you displayed while taking down that jaeger suggests otherwise. Obviously, I was occupied at the time, so I didn't see every little detail, but I saw enough to feel confident in my assessment." The dark-green-haired teen countered, while finally taking a moment to adjust his glasses so they rested comfortably on his face once more.

"I was just lucky the guy was caught off-guard so easily." The humble swordsman brushed off the praise with a self-conscious chuckle and a small smile.

The bespectacled boy raised an eyebrow at this odd reaction, and began openly scrutinizing the good samaritan in that moment.

Gaze tracing Rean's person, the green-eyed teen looked him up and down, not saying anything for a few moments.

Recognizing the appraising stare for what it was, Rean couldn't help but feel somewhat uncomfortable. "Uh..." A sudden sense of awkwardness overcame the diffident swordsman then; unable to find the words to break the sudden tension, he began rubbing the back of his head in an anxious manner.

...

Whatever the green-haired boy was thinking at the time, he kept it to himself; dropping the stare, he shook his head. "It's not important." He said in response to the questioning gaze of the good samaritan.

Turning away, the bespectacled teen retrieved his carrying case, and after checking to make sure the weapon within was undamaged, turned to face the dark-haired boy once more.

"Everything considered, introductions are overdue. I'm Machias Regnitz." He introduced himself, reaching out for a handshake.

"Rean Schwarzer." The unarmed swordsman took the other boy's hand and shook it.

As the two took a moment to acquaint themselves, the rest of the passengers finally stopped holding their collective breath; several nervous and frightened sighs were heard.

"Wow, I can't believe that actually just happened..." One of the nearby passengers thought aloud.

"They took those jaegers down while completely unarmed, so cool!" Another of the passengers remarked.

"Cool? Cool!? It won't be very cool when the rest of them come to check in and see why their buddies haven't come back! What are we supposed to do then!?" A third passenger began to freak out.

"Um, leave? I mean, even if we can't pry the doors open, we could just break the windows and get out that way." A fourth passenger, one of the few wearing the green and tan uniform, proposed in a levelheaded manner.

A series of fearful mutters, anxious whispers and doubtful comments filled the car then, as nearly a dozen people expressed their concerns or verbalized their nervousness, while a few more reasonable folks supported the proposal of escape.

Rean and Machias looked around at the other passengers then, momentarily unsure of what to say to them. Before either boy could come up with something to calm them, a loud thump sound followed by a clattering noise was heard from the next car.

"W-What was that!?" One of the passengers exclaimed in shock.

The rest had gone silent at the noise, afraid that if they spoke they would draw the attention of whoever caused the sound.

Both Rean and Machias had whipped their heads in the direction of the door to the next car, the two on high alert.

'The more I think about it, there's something that just...feels off about this whole thing. It doesn't make sense...' The diffident swordsman thought to himself.

...

Unable to rid himself of this strange feeling, Rean proclaimed, "I'm going to help the other passengers."

Looking to his new acquaintance, the unarmed swordsman spoke further, "Will you help me?", he asked of him. "I know it's a lot to ask of someone I've just met, but-

"I'll back you up." Machias agreed with a firm nod of his head.

Looking hesitant for the briefest of moments, the raven-haired teen questioned him, "You're sure?"

"Of course." The bespectacled boy affirmed without hesitation. "I have no intention of letting these thugs just do as they please." He added, as he placed the carrying case down and took his weapon out: he now brandished an orbal shotgun.

The swordsman regarded him with scrutiny of his own in that moment.

"Alright then, let's do this."

---

Rean shut the door to the last car as quietly as he could, before moving into place beside Machias. Both teens had managed to slip into the next car undetected; the two were crouched low, hidden behind the back-most seats to keep out of sight.

"What is that!?" Came a barely restrained voice from ahead.

Daring to peer out around the seats, Rean and Machias took in the scene unfolding in this car.

They saw a young baby-faced teen, more specifically a boy: he was of smaller than average build, with short, bright-orange hair, light skin and emerald green eyes, sporting a uniform nearly identical to theirs. The only real discrepancy between them, other than the light-oak-brown color of his shoes, was that rather than a red blazer, he wore a button-up overshirt of a similar aesthetic.

This boy they were currently looking at had the muzzle of a machine-gun shoved in his face, courtesy of one of the jaegers.

"I-I don't understand, i-it's j-just-" The orange-haired boy attempted to stutter out, clearly in fear for his life.

"What is in that goddamn case!?" The jaeger kept one hand on his weapon, as he used the other to point at the strewn open carrying case with a peculiarly looking silver and green staff resting in it, or half in it, as the object hung out halfway and was currently in contact with the floor.

'Judging by the positioning of the case, and the panicked state that guy seems to be in, I'm pretty sure he threw it against the wall. That must have been what made those noises we heard.' The unarmed swordsman mentally inferred.

Taking a second to look at the other passengers in this car, the six of them there were, he noted how they were curled up in their seats, afraid that the gun would soon be turned on them.

"I-It's j-just an orbal staff, it's a p-prototype." The emerald green-eyed teen anxiously informed the man, drawing the fuchsia-eyed teen's attention once more.

...

Rean and Machias observed as the jaeger continued to yell and shout in an overly-paranoid manner, demanding to know what the staff did and if it posed any sort of danger to him.

"He's rather jumpy." Machias remarked with a whisper.

"He's alone, even if backup's only a single car away, he still feels the weight of being isolated: it's making him paranoid. He can't handle the pressure, it seems." Rean quietly extrapolated.

"That's...odd for a jaeger, isn't it?" The bespectacled boy queried with suspicion.

"Yeah, it is." The raven-haired teen affirmed his acquaintance's suspicion.

"Jumping out and attacking him doesn't seem like the wisest decision, then. He's sure to open fire at the slightest of provocations. Perhaps we should rethink our approach." The forest-green eyed teen advised.

"You're right, but if we don't act soon, he might open fire regardless." The unarmed swordsman posited. "He's been spooked by that staff, and the orange-haired student it belongs to isn't giving him the answers he wants to hear." He elucidated.

"What'll happen if I pick it up!?" Came the panicked voice of the jaeger once more.

"W-Wha-"

"WHAT'LL HAPPEN!?" The scared thief demanded to know.

"N-Nothing! I swear!" The orange-haired boy responded frantically, shaking his head. "It's just a staff that helps me channel orbal energy for arts! That's all!"

'This isn't going to end well. If that jaeger gets any more upset, he's going to shoot him; I have to do something!' The fuchsia-eyed teen quietly determined.

Rean motioned for his new acquaintance to stay put, as he silently crept out from behind the last seat on the right.

"What're you doing!?" Machias demanded in a harsh whisper.

"If we don't do something soon, there's a good chance he'll shoot him. I'm going for it; you stay here and watch my back in case any of the other jaegers decide to join us; I'll sneak up on him and try to take him down." The dark-haired boy looked back at the teen and responded, keeping his voice low.

"Can you do this? Are you sure?" The green-haired boy asked of him warily.

Rean didn't respond at first, as he turned his head back around to put his target in sight once more. "No, I'm not. But I've got to try." He finally replied, before continuing his course of action.

The jaeger was still shouting at the meek-looking teen, finger on the trigger, twitching in anticipation; he completely failed to take notice of Rean's approach, crouched low to the ground, as he snuck up from behind.

Before the armed-thief knew what was happening, he lost his footing as his legs were swept out from beneath him. "What the-" Gravity carried him downward where he hit the floor of the aisle, hard, the impact harsh on his back and helmet-clad head.

In his shock and panic, he'd pulled the trigger, letting loose a burst of bullets; thankfully, however, due to falling backward, their trajectory was altered. The projectiles he fired hit the ceiling of the train, ricocheting at an angle; they ended up lodged in several of the unoccupied seats. The firing of the weapon had everyone, barring Rean, Machias and the jaeger, cringing in pain from the sound of the gun going off, and spouting exclamations of fear and surprise.

Downed, but not out, the jaeger tried to regain his bearings; vision a tad unfocused, he attempted to reestablish his grip on his weapon and shoot his attacker. Unfortunately for him, said attacker preempted this; prying the machine-gun from the jaeger's grasp, Rean proceeded to smash the butt of the gun into the mercenary's face, slamming his head against the floor once more. The blow did it's job, as the threat was knocked out cold.

...

Breathing a sigh of relief, Rean almost failed to notice it. However, with the object in hand, the scent was simply too strong. 'What's that smell?' He wondered to himself in that moment, as he traced it back to the gun in his hands.

Taking a moment to analyze the weapon in his grasp; he understood. 'It's gunpowder.' He realized. 'Why would they be using non-orbal weaponry?' He pondered. 'There's something fishy about this whole thing...'

Putting his suspicions aside for the moment, Rean removed the magazine from the machine-gun and placed the now ammo-less gun in one of the empty seats, before turning his attention to the boy he'd just helped. "Are you alright?"

The orange-haired teen uncovered his ears as he was spoken to, as he made a point to meet the eyes of the person who'd come to his aid. "Y-Yeah, I'm okay, just a bit shaken up is all." He answered. "Thank you. I couldn't...I didn't know what to do. I told him everything he wanted to know, I did everything he said, but he just wouldn't calm down." He continued. "I don't know if he was actually going to shoot me or not, but I'm glad I didn't have to find out." He confessed, finally able to breathe a sigh of relief of his own.

The meek teenager took a second to compose himself, before giving his name. "I'm Elliot, by the way. Elliot Craig."

"Rean Schwarzer." The raven-haired teen requited the introduction.

"As much as I'd like to reprimand you for that reckless maneuver, I must concede that it was probably the only option available to us at the time." Came the sound of Machias' voice, getting the two's attention as he approached; having abandoned his hiding spot. "Thankfully, it worked out. Next time though, it'd be best if we found another solution, one that doesn't involve allowing the armed-thug to fire off his gun." The bespectacled boy advocated, a tad critical in tone.

"I know, it was stupid, I'm sorry." Rean readily admitted, a bit of guilt in his voice. "But it was the only thing I could think of that minimized the risk of someone being shot. If I'd only had my sword..." He added, lamenting this fact.

"No, please, don't apologize. You helped me." Elliot implored, his posture, once slumped in fear, now straightened as he spoke with sincerity. "Even if he didn't kill me, he was almost certainly still going to shoot me. At the very least, you saved me from suffering a nasty wound." He contended.

"He's right. I'm not attempting to criticize you, I'm simply suggesting that we should find a better way next time; eliminate the risk, rather than minimize it. You did a fine job, everything considered." Machias assured his acquaintance.

Rean didn't respond, a look of unease about him.

...

"Rean?"

"One of them's coming." He abruptly let them know.

"One of them? You mean the jaegers?" Elliot queried, confused.

"They have the train locked down and are keeping all the passengers in their seats, it has to be." The black-haired teenager explicated.

"How could you possibly know that?" Machias inquired skeptically, brows furrowing as he regarded his acquaintance with visible apprehension. "There's no sound coming from the other car; certainly not the sound of boots hitting the floor in a dash to get to this one."

"I can sense them." The unarmed swordsman tersely informed them.

"You can what?" Both Machias and Elliot, in unison, questioned with bewilderment.

"There's no time to explain, we have to move." Rean exhorted.

Turning his attention to the other six passengers present, he urged them, "Everyone needs to hurry into the last car. The jaegers back there are unconscious and have been stripped of their weapons, you'll be safe."

The half a dozen passengers, having been silent in their fear and uncertainty up til' this point, nodded their heads in understanding and hurriedly did as they were told.

"Now we hide."

...

"What happened? Why did you open fire? Don't tell me you fucked up and offed one of the-what the...?" The jaeger trailed off as the door to the car he'd entered from closed behind him.

The sight he was greeted by was one of a vacant car, void of anything other than some damage seats, one of which had a machine-gun sitting in it, and the magazine to said weapon, sitting in the middle of the walkway.

"What the hell!?" He exclaimed in bafflement.

Walking over to the abandoned ammo, he stopped once he stood over it and took a moment to scan his surroundings. "Where did everyone go? What happened here?" He wondered aloud.

After several moments, he was satisfied that there truly was no one else present in the car. As such, he turned his attention to one of the only two things in there; squatting down, he reached out to pick up the magazine-

"Stop there."

He suddenly found himself on the business end of an orbal-shotgun, the barrel pressed firmly against his left cheek.

"Stand up. Do it slowly; no sudden movements." The bespectacled boy barked orders at him from the left-most corner of his vision.

Only one hand on his own gun, the jaeger had no choice but to comply.

Once he was standing upright once more, he would bide his time until an opportunity showed itself for him take hold of his machine-gun with both hands and riddle this punk with lead. However, to his shock and dismay, the moment he stood erect, another person showed themselves, this time on his right.

A boy with a head full of orange-hair latched onto his gun with both hands and proceeded to tear it from his one-handed grasp.

Before he could fully process this turn of events, he was doubling over in pain, as a third individual emerged and drove an open palm into his stomach.

The last thing he would remember before blacking out was the sound of his own groans in his ear as he stared at the gun-magazine beneath him; the stock of the shotgun was driven into the back of his head and his face impacted the floor as a result of the force.

...

"That worked out well." Machias remarked with a mixture of surprise and satisfaction.

"We make a surprisingly good team." Elliot opined contentedly.

"Yeah, seems like it." Rean agreed. "That could have gone a whole lot worse, that's for sure."

"Well, now what do we do?" The meek boy asked.

"Rean and I are planning on going through the other cars, locating his sword, and incapacitating the rest of the these thugs." The forest-green eyed teen informed him. "As for you..." He trailed off for a moment. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."

"Oh, I never did tell you, did I? It's Elliot Craig."

"Machias Regnitz."

"You guys really intend on fighting them by yourselves?" Elliot questioned with concern.

"It may not seem like the brightest idea, but we can't simply allow these criminals to run amok." Machias replied.

"Something's been bothering me about this whole situation; I need to get to the bottom of it. More than that, if any of the other jaegers share the same temperament as the guy you were dealing with, we'll have to keep them from hurting the other passengers." Rean explained.

Elliot seemed to ruminate over their words for a number of moments.

...

"I'll come with you guys." The meek teen put forth in a rather less than meek manner. "I'm not exactly great in hand-to-hand combat, but since one of you is already unarmed, it would probably do you some good to increase your numbers, so you can overwhelm those guys more easily. Especially since the weapon you do have on hand can't be used very effectively without harming the other passengers." The young teen laid out his reasoning. "So long as we're stealthy and ambush them like we just did, we'll be fine, right?"

A twinge of uncertainty was discernible in his words.

Even still, the other two boys agreed with him. So, the duo had now become a trio. And this trio, after disposing of the machine-gun magazine by opening one of the windows and tossing it outside, moved onto the next car.

---

The trio of boys managed to slink themselves into the next car and into a corner between two booth-seats, tucking themselves away from sight.

One of them, Rean, took the risk of peeking over the seats they were using as cover so as to survey the area.

"I suppose it's a rather moot point now, but why didn't you bring that staff of yours?" Machias inquired in a hushed tone.

"It's an orbal staff, so it wasn't really designed to be used as a blunt instrument. Besides, I can't use arts anyway; while I do have the battle orbment the school sent me, I don't have any quarts. So...yeah." Elliot sheepishly answered with a whisper.

The bespectacled boy simply nodded in understanding.

They stopped the conversation and just sat there, crouched in silence for a number moments.

They began to grow anxious at this point. Why hadn't Rean pulled back and informed them of the situation yet?

Deciding to chance it, they joined their acquaintance in peeking over the top of the seats.

...

The first thing they noticed was the pile of loot located in the two left-most seats at the front of the car: jewelry, satchels; purses, wallets, etcetera. More specifically, they noticed one object resting among the clutter in particular: a long purple bag. The very same purple bag that the unarmed swordsman had described to them. They had located Rean's sword.

The second thing they took note of was the amount of passengers present: ten in total; all were seated and silent, not wishing to provoke the ire of their captors.

The third and final thing of interest was the fact that there was only a single jaeger here; more than that was the fact that he held a picture between his fingers and was showing it around to his captive audience.

"Does anyone recognize the girl in this picture?" The jaeger laid out an open query to those present.

No one spoke up, even as he made sure to give them them all a good long look.

After a minute or so, he singled out one the passengers: a girl near the front.

She was noticeably curvaceous, possessed light skin, had light-blue eyes; long, brunette hair tied into a substantial braid trailing down her back, and sported a pair of round glasses with light, metallic-frames. More eye-catching to the three than anything else about her though, was the fact that she wore what appeared to be the female equivalent to their version of a school uniform. In place of pants was a medium-sea-green plaid skirt, along with black thigh-highs and nondescript brown slip-on shoes; rather than a traditional tie, she wore a elegant blue neck-tie that could easily be mistaken for a cravat; finally, a large blue bow was tied to the back of her blazer.

"Do you know this girl? Do you know where she is; which car she might be in?" The jaeger questioned her, keeping one hand firmly on his machine-gun, just in case.

"No, I've never seen her before." The brunette girl answered evenly, shaking her head.

"Come on!" The jaeger exclaimed with aggravation, nostrils flaring as he pulled the photo back. "Does no one know this girl!? Surely one of you must have seen her get on this train today!"

"A robbery? Uh-huh. Sure it is." Rean remarked sarcastically under his breath. 'I think I might be starting to get the picture here...'

"You barely looked at the picture; look again!" The jaeger suddenly barked, shoving the photo back in the bespectacled girl's face. "You must have seen her sometime since you boarded this train!" He insisted forcefully.

"I already told you I haven't." She remained firm.

"Listen here girlie, if someone here doesn't tell me where in this train I can find this girl, I swear to Aidios, I'm going to-"

"We have to help her!" Machias entreated the other two with a harsh whisper.

"But we don't have any sort of opening to exploit." Elliot quickly pointed out.

"What the fuck was that!?" The jaeger shouted all of the sudden; stumbling back and nearly spilling over the seats behind him, dropping the photo as he did.

The passengers, with the exception of the brunette, collectively jumped at this. All eyes were now on him.

"Something just brushed against my leg!" The armed thief vocalized what had spooked him, as he began frantically scanning the floor of the immediate area; both hands on his gun once more.

He swept his immediate vicinity, turning round and round, looking for something, anything that could possibly have been the origin of the sensation he'd just felt. However, he found nothing.

"What is going on!?" The jaeger growled.

At the moment he turned his back to the trio once more, he faltered. He saw something. He moved forward to investigate whatever it was that he'd spotted.

"There's our opening." Rean stated, then he moved, and the other two followed.

...

'What in the world is going on here!? What was that!? I couldn't have imagined it, could I?!' The mercenary's mind raced, his heart pounding as apprehension and a hint of fear crept over him. 'I know I felt it! And I know I just saw something! A shadow, maybe? But it was too small to be someone's shadow...wasn't it?' He couldn't stop from second-guessing himself.

So caught up in his uncertainty, he didn't notice until it was too late.

"Shit!" He cursed in pain, reflexively pulling his right arm back; an open palm had been driven into the side of the fold of his arm. His finger was no longer close to the trigger of his weapon as a result.

His machine-gun was swiftly pried from his grasp, and as he reached to try and pull it back, he was struck in the face from the left with the butt-end of a shotgun. He went down and was out like a light.

"Wow, can't believe that worked twice." Elliot commented, pleasantly surprised by how effective the strategy proved.

"Neither can I." Rean concurred, though was visibly less enthused by the fact.

Machias immediately turned his attention to the bespectacled girl. "Are you unharmed?"

"Yes, I'm fine." She assured. "Thank you very much." She gave them her gratitude with a smile and bow of her head.

"I'm glad to hear that." The bespectacled boy replied. "I'm Machias Regnitz." He followed up by introducing himself. "And these are..."

"Elliot Craig."

"Rean Schwarzer."

The other two boys took the cue and gave their names.

With her head lowered, no one noticed as she scrutinized Rean out of her peripheral vision. 'So that's him.'

Raising her head, she politely returned the introduction. "My name is Emma Millstein, nice to meet you three."

At that, Machias nodded his head and took a step back, before proceeding to address the passengers as a whole. "It would be best if all of you made your way to the last car. The passengers from the other cars are there, and all the jaegers back there have been incapacitated. You'll be safe." He apprised and urged them.

Needless to say, they listened.

...

After taking a quick cursory glance to make sure no one was left, Machias repeated his acquaintance's actions by removing the magazine from the unconscious jaeger's gun, opening one of the windows and tossing the object out. Another thug was down for the count, more people were out of harms way, and the train was almost cleared; things were looking up.

Pleased that things were going so well, the bespectacled boy allowed himself a sigh of relief. "Well then, now we can-"

It was only then, as he turned back, that he realized Emma; who had stood from her seat when the other passengers fled the car, was still here.

"W-Wait, why are you still here? Why did you not go with the others?" He queried with concern.

"You're taking control of the train back from the jaegers, right?"

"How did you-never mind. I suppose it is pretty obvious." The forest-green eyed teen conceded.

"I would like to assist you."

"Assist us? We're already going in with less than our full fighting capability, and it's undoubtedly going to be more dangerous from here on. I'm not so sure we would be able to protect you." The dark-green-haired teen leveled with her, clearly a tad anxious at the idea.

"I won't get in the way or hinder you efforts in any manner, I promise." The bespectacled girl gave sincere assurance.

"I-I don't know, I don't think it's a very good idea. You aren't even armed... You really should go to the back car with the others, for your own safety. Right, guys?" The bespectacled boy looked back, hoping the other two males would back him up on this. 'Surely they'll understand that we should protect a lady from this sort of thing.'

Only to see they were two arge away, rifling through the pile of loot.

"Feels good to have my sword back; I didn't feel right without it." Rean thought aloud as he removed the weapon from it's cloth bag and strapped it to his left hip. "Doesn't hurt to have my wallet back, either." He added, as he stashed said item inside of his blazer.

"I'm so relieved I found it." Elliot breathed the biggest sigh of relief in his life, as he liberated a carrying case from the mess of valuable objects. "Oh and it's good I got this back too." He said as he located his own nondescript wallet.

"Um, guys?" Machias attempted to get their attention.

"Huh?" The orange-haired boy finally lifted his head.

"Yeah, Machias?" The dark-haired boy was paying a little more attention, as he turned to listen.

"I was just telling Emma here that it would be best if she joined the other passengers in the back car, for her own safety." Machias explained.

"Do you not have a weapon?" Elliot inquired.

"I do, but I'm afraid I can't use it. I use what's called an orbal staff."

She went on to give the same explanation Elliot had about being unable to use her weapon.

"Oh, okay. I gotcha. It's the same for me." The meek teen told her.

"I swear to you, I'll stay back and keep safe." She promised them. "So, please, would you allow me to help?" She adjured, determination swimming in her light-blue orbs.

Rean locked eyes with Emma in that moment; she met his gaze without flinching.

"Do you really think you can help?" The swordsman came right out and asked her.

"I do." She didn't hesitate. "I'm sure you've already put together that I am a Thors Military Academy student from our similar uniforms; I'm not very used to hand-to-hand combat, but I can, at the very least, disarm my opponent. My Grandmother made sure I knew at least basic self-defense before I left home." She informed them.

"Even still-" Machias started, only to be cut off.

"Alright then, if you're up for it, we could use all the help we can get." The fuchsia eyed boy assented.

"Yeah, strength in numbers and all that." The emerald-green eyed boy was of a similar mind on the matter.

"But-" Machias began to protest, only for it to die in his throat as the other three all turned to look at him and listen. "Forget it." He didn't seem very keen on the idea, however, he wasn't about to be obstinate over accepting help in a situation such as this. "It may not sit well with me, but I'm not going to argue the point."

"Thank you." The kind brunette responded.

...

"Back to the matter at hand." Machias said, getting everyone on topic.

"Just one more car then the locomotive, right?" Elliot requested elucidation.

"Yeah, just two more areas to go." Rean affirmed.

"The real question is how many of them there are; we haven't met much resistance, everything considered. So it's possible they could be concentrating their numbers near the front of the train." Machias speculated.

"You said you could 'sense' them, right?" The orange-haired boy brought up.

"That's right." The raven-haired teen confirmed.

"Putting aside the fact that I have absolutely no idea what that means, I'll just ask: how many are left?" The bespectacled boy inquired.

"Four or five, I think." The swordsman answered.

Machias quirked his brow at that. "You think or you know? How does this 'sensing' thing work exactly?" He requested clarification, clearly somewhat dubious.

"It's not an exact science; it can depend on a bunch of different factors. Whether or not I'm clear-headed enough to pick out and identify every presence, how many people there are and where; distance, whether or not someone's trying to mask their presence; my own skill level, among other things." Rean expounded.

"Simply a rough idea is exceedingly helpful." Emma interjected. "If you can tell us how many are in the next car, that should be more than enough."

"There are three in the next car." He provided, more confident in this assessment.

"Then let's plan around that." The bespectacled girl suggested.

"Two jaegers... So long as we can keep them from firing their guns, we shouldn't have too much trouble taking them down." Machias remarked.

"Yeah, for 'elite mercenaries' they don't seem all that tough without their weapons." Elliot commented.

Rean's brows pulled together in that moment. "I'm pretty sure that's because they aren't." He suddenly said.

"Huh?" The meek teen wasn't sure what that meant.

"What do you mean?" The forest-green eyed boy questioned.

"What are you thinking?" Emma queried.

"I've had my suspicions since they addressed everyone over the intercom system. Something about it just seemed...off to me. Like they were trying to draw everyone's attention to it; make it clear beyond a shadow of a doubt that they were robbing the train...or perhaps bragging about the fact that they were going to. Those suspicions only grew when Machias and I were able to subdue two of these 'jaegers' while completely unarmed. To add to that, there's the fact that the simple plan we thought up with Elliot worked almost too well on not one, but two of them. Not to mention how easily spooked and trigger happy some of them seem to be. And then, there's this."

Rean brandished the photo the 'jaeger' had been carrying then; he'd apparently picked it up sometime between when it'd been dropped and now.

The picture was of a pretty blonde girl with light skin and rouge-colored eyes; apparel wise, the only thing that stood out were the purple ribbons she wore in her hair.

"It seems they're looking for the girl in this photo. If they're here to rob the train, why would they single out just one of the passengers? And why would they have a photo of them? They had this prepared before the robbery. I have a few ideas, but no real concrete proof of what they're doing here. However, I'm pretty confident that they're not actually jaegers. They're pretending, at best." The swordsman finished explicating.

"Wow." Elliot was impressed.

"That actually makes a lot of sense." Machias acknowledged.

"But why would they try to pass themselves off as jaegers?" Emma queried, curious.

"That I don't know." Rean admitted with no fanfare.

"Fair enough." The bespectacled boy commented.

"Does this change anything though?" The emerald-green eyed teen asked.

"No, not necessarily. We still have to fight them, after all." The forest-green eyed teenager said.

"It does give us more options though. Things we can try that would have no chance against real jaegers." The black-haired boy put forth.

"Okay. Let's figure out what we're going to do."

The four would take a minute to come up with a quick plan, and Elliot would put the carrying case he found safely down on one of the seats, before moving into the front car.

...

Unnoticed by all, hidden under some of the seats, was a black cat; the animal's vibrant green eyes followed the humans as they left.

---

The four teenagers managed to infiltrate the front car without being spotted; once more, they crouched behind the seats at the very back to conceal themselves from view. Machias and Emma were positioned at the seats on the left of the aisle, while Rean and Elliot occupied the space behind the ones on the right.

Chancing it, the quartet poked their heads out just far enough so that they could see what was going on.

There were over two dozen passengers, eighteen to be exact. One of whom they recognized.

Sitting in one of the seats on the right, roughly located in the middle of the car; all on her own was the girl from the photo, purple ribbons and all; interesting enough, unlike in the picture, she too was wearing the red Thors' uniform. In contrast to Emma, the blonde forwent the white undershirt for a pink turtleneck sweater; her plaid skirt was a much deeper green, and her footwear consisted of a pair of elegant brown thigh-high boots.

Shifting their attention, the four took note that the three thieves masquerading as jaegers appeared to be doing a sweep of the car, taking time to look over each individual captive.

"Why are we doing this again?" The first of the three suddenly asked.

"Because we were told to." The second one answered simply.

"Yeah, no, I get that. I'm asking what's the point? Their valuables have been taken already." The first thief replied.

"You know the answer to that." The third one responded.

"Really? Cuz' I'm pretty sure we were told she wouldn't be in the first car, right? That's why we sent the photo with the the second group, yeah?" The first went on.

"Well, that's true..." The third thief conceded.

"Then why are we even-Oh shit." The first of the thieves abruptly exclaimed, as he came to a sudden stop. "Forget what I was saying, cuz' I just found her."

"Wait, what?" The second thief said, confused.

"But our source said-" The third started, only to be interrupted.

"Well, our source was wrong apparently, cuz' here she is." The first thief gestured openly to the blonde girl in the seat he'd stopped at.

Said blonde girl's eyes went wide as she realized she was the one they were talking about.

"Wait a minute...you went around gathering the loot, how the hell didn't you notice her!?" The third thief harshly queried the second.

"I don't know, I just didn't, I-I guess."

"You guess!? Are you serious!? We could have-"

"Shut up you two! We found her, that's all that matters." The first thief barked.

The other two did as they were told.

Stepping toward the teenage girl, the first thief reached out to grab her. "You're coming with us, girl." He dictated.

She reared back at the attempt at contact. "Why me of all people!?" She demanded, near indignant.

Rather than respond, the armed-man grabbed for her again with his free hand, managing to get ahold of her by the wrist. With a quick tug, he yanked her out of her seat and hauled her to her feet; she visibly bristled at the violation of her personal space, and wrenched her hand free from his grasp.

"Who the hell do you think-ugh! What do you even want with me!?" She irately queried.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, girl." He replied through grit teeth, as he seized her once more, this time by the forearm.

"Get your hands off of me!" She yelled, jerking her arm out of his clutches, before proceeding to smack the taste out of his mouth.

The blonde girl persisted in resisting the man, who continued to have considerable difficulty in handling a lone unarmed teenager; his inexperience, and perhaps incompetence, was put on display for all to see.

'Jaegers are supposed to be elite mercenaries: highly trained killers with combat strength far beyond that of an average soldier. The top corps are said to possess military might comparable to small armies.' Rean reminded himself in that moment.

The false jaeger was struggling desperately to control the teenage girl, and failing, miserably; the blonde knocked him upside his head, nearly knocking his helmet off.

Watching this, any sliver of doubt left in Rean's mind about these men 'playing' jaeger vanished into the ether.

"Your last name, bitch! That's why!" The thief snapped at the young girl, angrily giving her the answer she wanted.

The blonde girl's eyes visibly narrowed and her body began trembling; she proceeded to blow a gasket. "A Ransom, is it!? How typical! Of course this is about Mother! I finally, FINALLY, got away from her! And now, even when she's completely unaware of it, she's still managing to obtrude in my life!" She ranted and raved rancorously; if she was mad before, she was fuming now.

Seeing the difficulty the first of the thieves was having, the third moved to assist him. "Here, I'll get her."

His attempts to subdue the girl didn't fair so well either; he was fended off in much the same way his fellow thief had been.

So, they both put their weapons aside, but close enough to where they could quickly grab them if needed, and tried together. That finally got them somewhere.

Busy giving one of them what for, the girl was unable to stop the other from getting behind her and grabbing her; locking his arms with hers, he pulled them back behind her, managing to successfully restrain her.

"Get her legs!" One thief told the other.

She wasn't about to let that stand, so she fought back even harder, somehow. She struggled to break free, as the same man who'd started this confrontation with her, took hold of her legs and proceeded to lift her completely off the ground. From there, they obviously intended to carry her off. However, that task was made rather arduous, as the blonde kicked and screamed with all she had, thrashing about without end.

"I refuse to become a victim because of my name!" She forcefully declared, completely incensed.

Kicking out with all her strength, she drove the heels of her boots into the center of the first thief's chest; the blow sent him reeling back, devoid of breath, where he toppled over onto the closest seat behind him. This left the third thief straining himself to keep the girl from breaking out of his hold, as she regained her footing.

As they observed this pathetic display, the quartet of students couldn't help but sweatdrop at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Definitely not a real jaeger corp." Rean whispered under his breath.

The situation quickly escalated, as the faux-jaeger making such an ardent effort to control the blonde girl, grew violent with her in response to the assault of his fellow.

So with one of the three men splayed out over some of the seats, another with their back to them near the front of the car, and the last one getting physically rough with the girl, the four figured it was now or never.

"I'll take those two; I have my sword back, and they made the mistake of putting their guns aside. They were smart enough to place them somewhere within quick reach, but where the other passengers couldn't get their hands on them without being noticed, however, the few seconds it will take to grab them should give me just enough time to strike." Rean stated.

"Seems sound." Machias approved.

"So that leaves the three of us to handle the last one." Emma noted.

"Between the three of us, we should be able to keep him from firing his weapon." Elliot said. "Just like with the last one."

Their course of action decided, they moved.

...

"How hard can it be to handle one girl?" The only one of the three thieves not dealing with the blonde queried, clearly unimpressed by the showing of his fellows.

After a few moments without receiving an answer, he asked; "Do you guys need some help?" His intent was far more genuine this time.

With a sigh, the armed-man approached the struggle. Only two steps forward, and he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. "What is-"

The faux-jaeger could've sworn he'd just seen some kid with a sword, however, before he could give voice to this fact, or even take proper hold of his weapon and aim it at the boy, he felt something hit the back of his left knee. "OW! What was-Ahh!"

The next thing he knew, his gun was pried from his hands, and he was falling backward.

Machias had taken the butt of his shotgun to the fold of the thief's left leg; Emma stepped in front and yanked the machine-gun away; Elliot squatted and shifted his center of gravity low, wrapped his arms around the man's waist, and pulled down. With their combined effort, the three took the man down to the floor.

"Argh! What's hap-" Before the downed thief could finish his sentence, he was hit in the face with the stock of Machias' shotgun, and was knocked unconscious.

Elliot, now pinned under the unconscious man, shifted the weight atop him and pushed the guy off, allowing the boy to get up from the floor.

"Wow, that worked way better than I expected." Elliot remarked with a relieved chuckle. 'Dad was so insistent I learn a few holds and takedowns before I left for the academy; gonna have to thank him for that, at least.'

...

The first thief had recovered from the double kick, and had returned to aid his comrade in handling the blonde girl. They appeared to be finally wearing her down, when they suddenly heard a shout. As such, their eyes immediately sought out the source, finding it to be the other thief, having been taken down to the floor by what appeared to be three teenagers.

"The hell!?"

Even worse, their focus having shifted, they discovered the fourth teen that had been sneaking up on them. Realizing said teen, who was armed with a blade, was far too close for comfort, they reacted; abandoning their struggle with the girl, they reached for their guns.

With the men distracted, the blonde was able to lash out and successfully assault them; she shot her elbow back and nailed the guy behind her in the stomach, before driving her knee up full-force into the crotch of the one in front of her.

The first of the thieves was completely immobilized; he sunk to the ground, protectively cradling his gonads, squealing in absolute agony.

The third, however, recovered swiftly from the elbow to the abdomen, and retaliated.

He snatched a fistful of her long blonde tresses, yanking her hair hard enough to elicit a gasp of pain, before ramming her face first into the wall.

She cried out, crumpling to the floor from the impact.

The faux-jaeger barely had time to release his hold on her hair, before he found himself on the business end of a blade. It was his turn to cry out, a slash mark carved into his tunic and the skin underneath; the red of his blood began to color the wound.

In pain and shock, the man stumbled back, tripping over the seat behind him and collapsing into it. Reflexively, he used his arms to put pressure on the bleeding injury; he only took notice of the sword swinging for his neck at the last moment.

He flinched in fear, thinking himself dead in that moment; there was no beheading, as Rean struck the fake jaeger in the side of the neck with the flat of the blade, the blow knocking him unconscious. Out cold, he slumped over in the seat.

The first thief was fighting through his physical trauma to get back up, still using one hand to defend his testicles from further attack. He was still far too vulnerable, as such, he didn't even see it coming when the hilt of Rean's sword was slammed into the back of his helmet-clad head; sent face first into the floor from this, he was effectively laid out.

...

The three fake jaegers were down, the threat in this car was nonexistent.

Rean sheathed his blade and went to the blonde girl's side. Crouching down beside her, he helped her sit up.

"That doesn't look too good." He opined honestly. "Are you okay? Can you hear me? Is your vision blurry? Can you tell me your name?" He asked her these questions consecutively and in a rapid manner, genuine concern in his tone.

The blonde held her head in both hands, eyes shut tight as she tried to ride out all the pain in her cranium; a bruise had already formed, a very angry red mark covering nearly the entire left half of her visage.

Machias, Elliot and Emma converged on the two then to see for themselves if she as alright.

"A-Alisa, my name is Alisa." She finally managed to answer one of the questions posed to her. "Ohhhhh...my head." She groaned out almost immediately after.

"Head injuries are extremely serious; she needs immediate medical attention." Machias warned, worried about the girl.

"Yeah, but right now getting it is easier said than done." Elliot commented with a frown.

"We need to finish incapacitating the men masquerading as jaegers, then the train can resume it's course; once we're moving, it shouldn't take more than a few minutes to reach the station." Emma concluded, attempting to dulcify the anxiousness the others were beginning to display.

"She's right." Rean concurred. "We should hurry." He added, a hint of concern in his tone as he looked at the blonde girl's face.

"I'll get the passengers to the last car." The bespectacled girl volunteered.

"Allow me to accompany you." The bespectacled boy proffered. "We have no way of knowing how long those men will remain unconscious; the most sensible course of action would be to have someone stand guard over the passengers in case that occurs." Machias reasoned.

"Yeah, that makes the most sense, if you think about it." The orange-haired teen agreed. "I'm not sure how much help I'll be, considering, so I'll stay here. I can keep an eye on her, at least." The timid boy propounded, indicating the blonde with a tilt of his head.

"Someone should keep her company, so yeah, that would be a huge help. Thanks, Elliot." The raven-haired swordsman voiced his gratitude.

"Just trying to help however I can." The emerald-green eyed boy replied simply. "Not sure how much more I can do so in a fight, especially unarmed. We can't exactly sneak up on whoever's left, not with them being up ahead in the locomotive; they'd spot us right away. So this is all I can really do now." He rationalized; he sounded almost piteous.

"I-I'm fine. Just a little disoriented." Alisa tried to assert, as she pulled away from Rean and attempted to get to her feet. However, still rather dazed, she wobbled and fell back down; needless to say, she was rather unconvincing.

Rean caught her, keeping her from any real harm, and settled her down onto one of the seats.

"Guess I'll take it from here." The orange-haired teen spoke, as he sat down beside the blonde girl.

"Thanks." The rouge eyed girl muttered gratefully.

"No problem." Elliot responded with a smile.

The swordsman stepped away.

"Well then, Emma and I should get to it." Machias said.

"Yeah." The black-haired boy vocalized his agreement.

...

Rean stood and watched as the two bespectacled teenagers calmed the terrified yet silent passengers, before gradually herding them out of the car.

'None of them so much as gasped as that all went down. Those three must have really terrorized these people for them to be so deathly quiet.' The swordsman speculated to himself.

Shaking his head, the seventeen year old let the thought go, and proceeded to round up the KO'd men's machine-guns. Removing the clips and disposing of them out one of the windows one by one, he rendered the weapons ineffective; now only useful as blunt instruments, the teen simply tossed them into some of the empty seats, thinking all the while, 'Elliot and Alisa should really head to last car as well, but she's still too shaken up. Besides, there's no way of knowing how serious her injury is, jostling her about would be just plain stupid at this point.'

Looking over to check Machias and Emma's progress, his eyes followed them as they finished guiding the passengers into the next car, before doing so themselves.

"The car's nearly clear..." Rean thought aloud. "Elliot, if Alisa's up for it, you guys should really bunker down on the floor between some seats." He recommended.

"Think you can?" Elliot kindly queried the blonde.

"Yeah, I can handle that." Alisa consented.

So, the two did as he suggested, the girl groaning in discomfort as they did so.

Rean took a second to breathe in deep before exhaling through his nose; turning toward the entrance to the locomotive, he drew his blade and walked forward. 'I need to make this quick; I'll try to take them down with a single strike.'

He stopped before the door; he could sense them clearly, they were just on the other side, waiting for him. 'There are two of them; it was five after all.' He thought to himself.

"The moment I open this door, they're going to open fire." He observed quietly to himself.

Sheathing his blade, Rean bent his knees and assumed the fourth form stance. 'They're too obvious.'

"Sorry, but I'm not stupid enough to fall for such an obvious trap." The swordsman taunted them.

Murmuring could be heard from behind the door after that.

His right hand still gripping the hilt of his sword, the black-haired boy wrapped his left hand tightly around his scabbard, and shut his eyes.

"Who the hell is this kid!?" He heard one of the two voices wonder anxiously. "How did he manage to take out the rest of the guys!?"

"Doesn't matter, we're gonna waste the punk." The other voice confidently proclaimed. "So, you really think you can take us, huh?" The voice continued, this time directed at Rean himself.

The swordsman did not react.

"Fine, have it your way." The second voice spoke once more. "Hope you're ready to die, kid."

"Fourth Form..."

As the door to the locomotive was thrown open, revealing the last two false jaegers, fingers halfway through the motion of squeezing their triggers, he finally acted.

Eyelids snapping open, Rean kicked off the floor and dashed forward at full speed; drawing his blade, he slashed both men as he passed by them. "Autumn Leaf Cutter!"

He halted his motion once he was behind them, coming to a complete stop; resheathing his blade, he stood back upright.

The impostor jaegers dropped to the floor, neutralized, bleeding from the new wounds across their abdomens; they'd never even managed to fire their guns.

With the threat nullified, Rean released the breath he didn't even realize that he'd been holding.

---

Heimdallr Outskirts, Trista Station

The moment they pulled into the station it was a blur of activity; the instant the doors opened, men and women wearing grey and black uniforms poured into the train. It took Rean a moment, caught up in the commotion, but he recognized them as personnel of the Railway Military Police.

They wasted no time in rounding up the unconscious thieves and questioning all the passengers.

The RMP soldiers weren't harsh, severe, haughty or even pushy really, they were cordial enough and simply appeared to be doing their jobs, and yet...

Rean found it uncanny that they'd seemed to have been standing at the ready on the platform, almost if they'd been waiting for them to arrive, as if they were already aware of the situation...

'They're supposed to be the most elite unit in the whole Imperial Army, so I suppose it would only make sense that they'd have some sort of informant feeding them intel on criminal activity, or something along those lines at least. That would explain it. But still...it just feels kinda...off.' The swordsman privately contemplated, as he observed the soldiers perform their duties.

They had already cleared the train of civilians, and were now doing a through sweep of each car, in addition to interrogating the thieves; before that, they'd conducted interviews with Rean, Machias, Elliot, and Emma. Alisa hadn't needed to answer any questions, as with her injury, she was immediately escorted to the Thors Campus to receive medical treatment.

Most of the passengers, at least of those who'd intended to disembark in this town, had been released from the RMP's custody once they'd recounted the event to the best of their knowledge: Machias, Elliot and Emma among them. They'd allowed the bespectacled girl to leave first, then the orange-haired boy shortly after; the dark green-haired teen and the raven-haired swordsman, having been at the center of this incident, were kept the longest. The bespectacled boy was only just allowed to leave the station; Rean still remained.

He'd seen each of the three off with a smile and words of gratitude for their assistance; they'd returned his gratitude in kind with smiles of their own.

'Thwarting the plans of some armed-thieves: not exactly the most normal way to make friends...' The black-haired swordsman mused.

...

"Excuse me, Mr. Schwarzer."

The dark-haired teenager was pulled from his thoughts by one of the RMP soldiers: a man in his mid-twenties with an average build, fair skin, dark brown eyes, and a bald head; the same man who'd interviewed him earlier.

"Is there something else you needed, Lieutenant Marshall?" Rean greeted him. "Oh, and you really don't need to call me that. Just Rean is fine."

"Sir Rean, then." The soldier clad in grey and black acquiesced. "I just wanted to let you know that we recovered several spent bullet casings from throughout the train, which substantiates your claim regarding their use of gunpowder and non-orbal weaponry. Everything you told us checked out, so with that, you're free to go. I apologize for the hold-up and any inconvenience it caused you." The man spoke courteously.

"No need to apologize, I understand." Rean assured him. "That said..." He trailed off, suddenly unsure.

"Is there a problem?" Lieutenant Marshall inquired.

"No, everything's fine. It's just that...I know I don't have any real right to do so, and you have no obligation to answer, but even still, I wanted to ask you if you knew what this whole thing was all about." The swordsman responded honestly. "I have a pretty good idea what they were up to, even if I don't have much to back it up. More than that though, I was wondering who those men are; why would they impersonate a jaeger corp? For something like a train-robbery or a kidnapping, I can't really see the benefit in it." He elaborated.

The bald soldier frowned at this query. "Ah, I see." He said simply. "Well..." It was ever so subtle, barely noticeable, but the man seemed to fidget in discomfort for the briefest of moments, as he showed his hesitancy.

"I probably came off as pretty disrespectful, huh? I'm sorry." Rean apologized to the older man with a slight bow of his head. "I wasn't trying to be impudent, I just can't help but wonder, you know? I got caught up in the whole thing and-"

"Please, do not apologize to me. It is not proper for a noble to bow his head to a commoner under any circumstances, Sir." The man known as Marshall supplicated.

Despite himself, Rean felt his stomach squirm. "Oh." Was all the Schwarzer heir could verbalize in that moment. 'Most people don't realize I'm from a noble family just from hearing my name. I didn't expect he'd recognize the name of a small barony.'

"You have a point though, Sir Rean. If I were in your shoes, I'd be chomping at the the bit to know what I'd been caught up in and with whom." Marshall admitted. "So while I probably shouldn't be telling you this, I suppose you've earned the right to know. After all, the incident would have likely had a far uglier outcome if not for you and those other three; because of your efforts, only a single passenger sustained any injuries." He commended the youth. "The Captain probably won't like it, however, I'm sure she'll understand; not like I'm telling you anything confidential."

"Captain?" The young teen repeated.

"That woman over there overseeing everything." The soldier tilted his head to the right to indicate the woman a few arge to the side of them.

Rean's eyes followed the older man's gesture to woman he spoke of.

Off to the side, reading over some papers while simultaneously keeping an eye on the goings-on around her, was the captain.

She was an attractive young woman who appeared to be in her early to mid-twenties, with light skin, long sky-blue hair tied off into a slightly off-center ponytail with a curly flair, and striking hot-pink eyes. She wore the same uniform as her subordinates, metallic-grey and black from sleeves to heels, a beret of similar color, and finally a pair of brown knee-length boots.

"In the worst case scenario, I may receive disciplinary action, however, it won't be anything severe. She's the Icy Maiden, after all, she's far too concerned with logistics and efficacy to let one of her better men go for something so inconsequential." Marshall explained his reasoning.

Pulling his eyes away from the woman, Rean returned his attention to Marshall. "You don't have to stick you neck out for me like that. I get it, really."

"It's fine, I assure you." The bald soldier affirmed.

"Still..." The young Schwarzer was clearly apprehensive at this point.

"You desired to know them for what they are, correct?"

Marshall took Rean's lack of a reply as permission to continue. "They are a small group that refer to themselves as Bugbear; they're jaeger dropouts, having been incapable of keeping up with the corps they originally belonged to. They claimed their intentions were to rob all those aboard the train, and while that was technically true, what they were really after was the young girl you helped. According to the young lady in question, from what little she told us before she was taken for medical treatment, she belongs to a wealthy family who could feasibly pay a heft sum of mira for her safe return. The robbery was simply a smokescreen for the kidnapping."

'That's about what I figured.' Rean thought to himself.

"The men of Bugbear were somehow under the delusion that if they managed to ransom the girl off, that they would finally be recognized as a legitimate jaeger corp around the world." Marshall finished informing the young teen.

"I see..." The swordsman didn't have much to say in response; the frown he wore said enough.

"If that's all, you'll have to excuse me, Sir Rean." The soldier politely prodded.

"Oh, of course. I didn't mean to hold you up, my bad."

"It is no trouble." With that, Marshall walked away.

Rean stood there for another few moments, turning things over in his head.

...

Eventually, he pushed his thoughts aside and went to collect his things. "Now's not the time to get bogged down in my thoughts; I still have orientation to get to." He reminded himself. "I still have a bit of time, but better safe than sorry."

With that, he strode out of the train station.

...

The woman known as the Icy Maiden watched him leave with an indiscernible expression on her face.

---

Upon exiting Trista Station, Rean came to an immediate halt; bag slung over his shoulder, he simply stood there and took it all in.

"Wow..."

The town was small, but beautiful; it almost had a welcoming aura to it. The happy faces that moved about, yet took the time to stop and greet each other, exchange pleasantries, and converse, only strengthened this feeling.

'Man, spring really seems to be in full bloom here.' Rean noted. 'I hardly even realized it was this time of year back home because of all the snow.'

"Are those lino flowers?" The Schwarzer heir wondered aloud to himself, having spotted several trees with numerous blooming flowers adorning them. "I've never seen so many blossoming at once."

Eyes surveying the scenery, he took notice of the signs adorning each of the buildings.

Trista Radio Station, Kirsche's Cafe and Inn, Keynes' Bookstore; Brandon's General Goods, Le Sage Boutique, Jane's Gardening Shop.

His eyes then focused on the center of the area, the space in the middle of all the buildings.

"Hey, it looks like there's even a little park here." He commented, finally moving his feet; walking down the station steps, he approached the park. "Seems like the perfect spot to catch a breather, what with all these shops around."

He continued to allow his gaze to wander as he took the four short steps down into the park-area in the center of town. "This place is really-"

His words died in his throat, as his eyes caught sight of something very peculiar; this sight made him completely forget his surroundings.

There, stretched out on one of the benches, sleeping peacefully, was an almost eerily familiar girl. She wore the female red Thors uniform; she differed from the other two girls with her necktie being askew and not tied properly, a grey plaid skirt, black socks that nearly reached her knees, and her green and white strega-brand sneakers.

'No way...'

He drew closer to get a better look at her; he stopped when he was just less than an arge from her. From there, he was able to really take her in.

She was of a shorter statue, had a very petite figure, pale skin, and short silver hair, styled in a pixie cut. Her face possessed gentle features, they were almost angelic, even. More than any of this, it was the familiarity of her visage that struck the black-haired boy.

'It couldn't be...could it? Is she really...?'

In a state of shock, Rean couldn't bring himself to do anything but gawk at the sleeping girl; he was at a complete loss. She bore a striking resemblance to that girl from eight long years ago; it was almost unreal how much she looked like her.

It was getting difficult for him to even think at this point, his brain chugging along in an effort to not completely shut down on him; he was completely overwhelmed at the thought that this girl before him was the same girl he remembered from his childhood. The same girl that, to this day, he still considered his best friend. The same girl that, after six months of living together, of playing together, of laughing together, had seemingly vanished into thin air.

She hadn't actually disappeared, of course, rather, she simply left without ever saying goodbye. After that, there was no trace of her; he never heard from or saw her again. So, to him at least, she really did vanish.

'I'm not afraid of you' The girl's last words to him echoed inside his head. Those few, simple words, said with more certainty and conviction than any child her age should ever of had the right to hold...they'd stuck with him all this time.

Lost in his own head, Rean failed to notice as someone approached from behind.

"Dude, you do know that girls don't like that sort of thing, yeah?"

Rean nearly jumped at the sound of the voice; he hurriedly turned around to face the one who'd spoken to him.

The voice belonged to a teenager that was slightly taller than him, with an athletic build; he had light skin, unruly white hair that just barely reached the bottom of his neck, and red eyes. Unlike the rest of the interesting people Rean had run into today, the teen wore the standard Thors uniform, though he sported a blue tie instead of red, wore his green blazer open with the buttons undone, and cargo pants rather than slacks. His own personal touches to the outfit didn't stop there: he was rocking a white bandanna around his forehead, deep-brown, almost black, shin-length boots with two metallic-colored buckles, and two belts worn halfway on his waist on opposite ends, with the other halves pulled upward. These belts were both brown: one was thinner and lighter, the other was thicker and darker with a holster attached.

This white-haired teen was leaning against the railing surrounding the park, head angled ever so slightly downward to look at the swordsman from his just barely elevated position.

"W-What?" Was the raven-haired boy's eloquent response.

"Watching them sleep: they don't like it." The other boy clarified. "Downright hate it, in fact. The find it rather creepy." He further elucidated, though, in spite of his words, his tone lacked any real sense of accusation.

"Wh-What!? N-No!" Rean denied immediately upon the realization of how it looked. "I-I wasn't-I mean, I know it looks like that's what I'm doing, but I swear-"

As the seventeen year old spluttered in an attempt to explain himself, the white-haired teen regarded him with an amused smirk. "Hey, you ain't gotta explain yourself to me. To each his own and all that jazz." He remarked with a distinct lack of judgement. "If watching girls sleep is your thing, far be it from me to stop you; it's not like your hurting her or anything."

"No! You don't understand, that's not what I was doing at all, I swear!" The swordsman protested vehemently, while keeping his voice low. 'The last thing I need is to be caught up in such a huge misunderstanding with everyone in two; on my first day here, no less!'

"Mmngg..." The sound of the girl waking up stopped the exchange between them dead, as both boys' focus shifted to the girl in question; with a yawn, she sat up.

"What are you doing?" It was an open-ended question she posed, as she was wiping away the sleep from half-lidded eyes.

"He was staring at you real hard, so I came over to see what the big deal was." The white-haired boy came right out and answered her, tilting his head slightly to indicate the other boy as he did. "I mean, you're cute, yeah, but he was seriously gaping at you, like you were the first pretty girl he'd ever seen or something." He added with a small grin.

Rean looked like he'd been slapped at that; he was completely caught off guard. "I-It's not like that!" He hurriedly contended, turning to face her. "You looked really familiar is all! I thought I recognized you and came over to get a better look, just to be sure, that's it! I would never-" His frantic attempt to explain himself came to an abrupt end, his voice failing him; the silver-haired girl had finally opened her eyes up fully, revealing her colored orbs.

She had beautiful lime-green eyes...

That sealed the deal. Rean knew, without a doubt, this was the same girl from all those years ago.

Eyes wide in disbelief, he tripped over his own words. "Y-Yo-You're..."

At the stammering, the silver-haired girl finally looked up to regard the ones who spoke to her. In doing so, she met the fuchsia eyes of the black-haired boy; recognition flashed behind her eyes, an almost startled expression overcoming her face for the briefest of moments.

As quick as it formed, it vanished; her face went expressionless, blank, as if she were a doll.

"Fie-" The instant that name left Rean's mouth, the silver-haired girl was off the bench and on her feet.

"I need to get going." She abruptly stated; her departure was just as sudden: she turned her back on the two boys, ignoring any attempt to speak to her, and exited the park, before taking the path that led north, away from the square and deeper into Trista. Her pace was a rather brisk one.

Rean's attempts to call out to her were in vain; she was gone from sight in short order, so, with a heavy sigh, he abandoned his efforts.

'She was wearing the school uniform, she must be attending Thors as well. So...I'll get my chance to see her again.' He consoled himself with that thought. Even if it wasn't ideal, it'd already been eight years, he could wait a little longer.

'Still...' He frowned, brows knitting together in dismay. 'What was that about? Why did she react like that?' He fretted. 'All this time, I've just wanted to see her again, and when I finally find her...' He silently struggled to temper the negative emotions building inside him.

"Haha, sorry to say, but I do believe you've been rejected, my friend." Came the voice of the white-haired teen, amusement in his tone; he hopped the railing, shortening the distance between them, gaining the black-haired teen's attention.

"Yeah, I suppose that's a fair way to put it." Rean granted with another sigh.

"Don't sweat it, guy, happens to everyone." The red eyed boy assuaged.

"Trying to cheer me up now?" The Schwarzer heir queried. "That's nice of you and all, but the sentiment kind of flies in the face of the fact that you were just trying to get me slapped a minute ago." He snarked, annoyance worn openly in that moment.

"Hey, that's not what I was trying to do at all. I was playing your wingman: helping you get a with the girl and all that." The white-haired boy justified himself; the attempt was rendered rather facetious, due to the wink he gave and the wry smile he wore.

The raven-haired swordsman showed his displeasure by fixing the teenager with a rather dry look.

"Okay, okay. Since you were standing so close to her and stuttering like a nervous wreck, she was going to put two and two together and realize you'd been watching her sleep, whether I said anything or not. So, I simply mitigated the situation by playing up the fact that you found her attractive, because nothing cools a girl off like being told she's pretty." He tried to vindicate his actions. "It didn't guarantee you wouldn't have an angry girl on your hands, of course, but hey, it lowered the chances at least, and that's better than nothing, right?"

'He's making this up as an excuse; he was really just messing with me, wasn't he?' Rean privately though to himself.

"Even if I believed that was why you did it, that doesn't change the fact that I wasn't doing anything like that. I tried to explain it you, but you wouldn't listen; I thought I recognized her and wanted to be sure. That's all." The dark-haired youth asserted calmly, if a bit piteously.

"Alright, I believe you. That doesn't mean she was going to, though. It was for the best that I covered for you, trust me." The white-haired youth tried to assure him.

"But you don't even know me; why would you cover for me?" Was Rean's questioning response.

"Eh, I dunno, just felt like it, I guess." The other boy replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Seriously?" The black-haired seventeen year old queried dubiously.

"Kinda. I mean, you're right that I don't really know you, but the way you speak, and the way you carry yourself, it paints you as the earnest, straightforward type, ya know? You just seem like the kind of guy that needs to catch a break, so, I tried to give you one." The white-haired youth explicated.

"You seem pretty sure about the content of my character, considering you don't even know my name..." The young swordsman said, still unsure.

"Well, it doesn't hurt that I heard you helped stop a train-robbery, but that's pretty irrelevant." The red eyed boy waved off his own statement with complete nonchalance, yet his grin was telling.

"Oh." Now things made a little more sense to Rean. "Wait, how do you know about that?"

"I overheard some of the new students who came into town today whispering about some guy their age with a sword who'd taken down the thieves." The bandanna wearing teen explained, eyeing the purple bag the slightly shorter teen carried.

Rean followed the other boy's eyes in that moment to the bag over his shoulder. 'He recognized me as the person they were talking about just from my bag? He must have a pretty sharp eye...'

"I see. Well, thanks then, I guess." The Schwarzer heir managed a small smile then. "I appreciate the gesture, if nothing else."

"Don't even mention it." The white-haired teenager dismissed with a wave of his hand. "Name's Crow, by the way. Crow Armbrust." He extended his hand to his fellow student, as he introduced himself.

"Rean Schwarzer. Nice to meet you, Crow." Rean gave his own name in turn, as he shook the other boy's hand.

"Feeling's mutual." Crow returned the sentiment with a good-natured smile of his own.

---

"He certainly was an interesting guy..." Rean muttered to himself, as he traversed the same path he'd seen Fie take. 'I barely know the guy, and yet, when I was talking to him; in spite of the fact that he was messing with me at first, I just felt comfortable: like talking to an old friend.'

The Schwarzer heir's train of thought was derailed, as he took notice of the church he'd nearly passed by.

'So this is the town chapel...seems like it's about the same size as the one back home.' He noted. 'The opening ceremony should be starting soon, I should really be going...' He thought to himself.

And yet, even still, he felt compelled to visit the chapel.

Rather than wrestle with the urge, he simply resigned himself to it and altered his course.

It was with a feeling of anxiety that he walked through the doors.

...

The place was nearly vacant, Rean noticed.

There was only the priest, behind the podium. Except, that wasn't quite right.

"I guess someone's already here." The black-haired boy thought aloud, as he saw him.

"Sorry. Am I in your way?"

Now that the person had stood from his kneeling position, and turned to face him, Rean got a good look at him.

The person he saw was a rather tall teenager with a slightly muscular build, as well as darker skin; he possessed dark brown hair tied back in a short ponytail, and spindle-blue eyes. Just as attention grabbing as his height, was the red uniform he wore. His differed from the others in that he opted for dark blue slacks with dull white trimming, brown sandals, a purple sash, a mid-sleeve grey shirt, his tie was worn a little more loosely, and finally, rather than a blazer, he adorned a long red vest with a similar design.

"Oh, no. Not at all." The Schwarzer heir brushed the concern off.

"Good, good. If you'll excuse me, then." The tall boy said politely, before walking away.

'That's one tall guy. And judging by his complexion, I don't think he's from Erebonia.' Rean thought to himself, as he watched the teen exit the chapel. 'He was wearing the same uniform as me and most the others I met today...'

Turning back to look at the priest behind the podium, Rean hesitated for a brief moment, before taking a seat in one of the pews, so as to hopefully not draw too much attention to himself.

'While I'm here, I really should get in a prayer for the start of the school year before I take off.' He tried work himself up to it.

He bowed his head, and prepared to say a prayer, however, he couldn't find the words.

Each time he tried to start, he felt his stomach sink.

...

'I...'

...

'I can't do this.'

Unable, or perhaps, unwilling, to bring himself to force a prayer, he raised his head and stood up. He got the attention he'd been trying to avoid from the priest in that moment, but assured the man he was fine.

Then, he turned around and walked right out of the church.

...

Back on the path to the academy, Rean came to a stop at a three-way intersection in the road. He noted that both the left and right led to two different dorms, while the middle path must have been the way to the school grounds. 'I wonder which dorm they'll place me in...' He pondered then. 'I'm technically a noble, but...well...if the school doesn't really consider me one, that wouldn't really surprise me...'

'Worthless commoner trash! How dare you strut around pretending to be nobility! I refuse to recognize you as one of us!' Unbidden, words he'd heard many times before repeated in his head.

Shaking his head clear of such thoughts, he continued walking. 'Doesn't matter. Besides, if I had a choice, I'd rather not be placed in the noble dorm anyway.'

...

Along this pathway, he came across another person wearing the red uniform. He sped up his pace to fall in line with her stride, so as to get a good look at her.

She had a powerful yet distinctly feminine frame, light skin; vibrant amber eyes, and long, dark blue hair, tied back into a rather lengthy ponytail with a black hair accessory. Her attire only differed from the other girls wearing red in two ways: her plaid skirt was blue, and her footwear was a pair of knee-length black boots with white accents. She also had a large carrying case strapped over her shoulder.

"Hello. Is there something I can help you with?" The blue-haired girl inquired, noticing the eyes on her; she did not halt her steady gait.

"Huh? Oh, no, sorry. I saw you had the same uniform as me and wanted to get a better look is all. Sorry to bother you."

"Oh? I take it there aren't many students wearing red uniforms, then?" She queried in response.

"Spot on. So far most of everyone I've seen is wearing green; excluding us, I only know of a handful of people wearing red." He explained.

"I see. Perhaps it denotes that we belong to the same class." She postulated.

"That's been my theory." The raven-haired teen concurred.

She nodded her head at that. "Regardless of whether we're in the same class or not, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance; I am Laura S. Arseid."

"Rean Schwarzer; the pleasure is mine." He introduced himself in turn in his most polite manner; he couldn't help but feel obligated too, what with the sophisticated air about this girl.

...

They exchanged pleasantries for another few moments, before they reached the Thors Academy main gate. The path ahead from there was temporarily blocked, a green limousine barring their path.

"Wow...an orbal limousine. And one of Reinford's fanciest models, too." Rean commented at the sight.

Laura said nothing, though she did eye the vehicle.

The orbal-car began backing up in that moment; as the limousine reversed, both teens moved off the path. The vehicle turned itself around and proceeded to drive off in the direction they'd just come from.

Their eyes would have followed the limousine, if it weren't for the boy it left in it's wake, who was also sporting a red uniform.

He was of average height and build, possessed light skin, short blond hair; electric-blue eyes, and a regal air. The personal flare to his school wardrobe consisted of wearing his blazer open and unbuttoned, a blue v-neck sweater with a white pinstripe shirt underneath; dark blue and black plaid pants, and nondescript solid-black shoes. He too was holding onto a carrying case.

"What are you two staring at?" The blond boy queried them in an acerbic manner, having noticed their gazes.

"Our apologies; we intended no offense." Laura responded.

"We were surprised by the limo, and even more so to see that you were wearing a red uniform." Rean explained.

"Oh?" The blond kept his reply to a single syllable.

"They're not common. Counting the two of us, you're the ninth person I've seen wearing it." The Schwarzer heir further elucidated. "And considering I've seen over two dozen green uniforms...well, you get the point."

"I see." Satisfied with their answers, the blond wasted no further time and walked off.

...

"Well...that was...something." The raven-haired teen could think of nothing nice to say.

"We should be on our way as well." Laura reminded him

"Right." He agreed.

With that, they followed after, moving to enter the school grounds.

---

Ten minutes later...

After turning over their weapons to two second years: George Nome and Towa Herschel; Rean and Laura had been directed to the auditorium, where the entrance ceremony was being held.

There, they had to find their seats among the few spare chairs that remained; they managed just fine, but wound up a few rows apart.

Rean found himself seated between two familiar faces: Machias on the left, and Elliot on the right. The three were happy to see each other again so soon and chatted amongst themselves until the ceremony officially began.

...

The entrance ceremony was drawing to a close.

"Now, if I may, I'd like to say a few words in closing about this academy's illustrious history." Principal Vandyck: a tall, broad shouldered, and well dressed man; with fair skin, long grey hair and matching facial hair, pronounced from the auditorium's stage.

"Thors Military Academy was founded almost two hundred twenty years ago. It's found, as I'm sure you're all aware, was none other than the great Emperor Dreichels. The very same Emperor who ended the War of the Lions and returned prosperity to the Erebonian Empire. Thirty years after becoming Emperor, in the later years of his life, he opened the doors of this institution. It was to be a place where young people like yourselves could learn the art of war. But with the mechanization of the military, many of our graduates no pursue careers outside the army. Our mission, however, remains the same: to prepare our student to fulfill Emperor Dreichels famous mandate... 'Arise, O youth, and become the foundation of the world.'" Vandyck recited this historical quote from memory; his oration was impeccable, as nearly all the students were captivated by his every word.

"Though much has happened these past two and a quarter centuries, the world is still the domain of the young. Yet the question still remains: what qualities must one possess to become a part of its foundation?" He permitted this question to linger for several long moments, to allow the full weight of such a daunting query to truly sink in. "I hope this credo will serve as a guide and an inspiration to you during your two years at this academy. Go forth, my students. The world awaits the great things you will one day accomplish."

'The foundation of the world, huh?' Rean contemplate this lofty notion, as Vandyck finished speaking.

"Haha. No pressure, right?" Elliot quipped, pulling Rean from his state of thought.

"No kidding. Though, this is Dreichels the Lionheart we're talking about. He didn't earn his nickname by taking the easy road." The black-haired boy remarked.

"True, but even still, that's quite the set of expectations to place on students such as ourselves. Almost overbearingly lofty, in fact. It's the simple fact that this is Thors Military Academy that keeps me from balking at the notion entirely. After all, this is the most prestigious school in the entirety of Erebonia; it's to be expected that graduates would go on to accomplish great things." Machias interjected to explicate.

"Guess we've got more to worry about than just passing exams then, huh?" The good-natured swordsman commented with a hint of mirth.

"Ahaha, I guess we do." The orange-haired boy agreed.

"Indeed." The bespectacled boy echoed the agreement in a slightly more serious manner.

...

"So, you guys have noticed that there are only nine of us wearing red, right?" Rean suddenly queried the two.

"Now that you mention it..." Elliot trailed off, his eyes wandering the packed room to double check his count.

"The majority of the students are wearing the green uniform, while the rest are dressed in white. Considering their fewer numbers, and their snobbish attitudes, it's safe to assume that the latter are the nobles." Machias concluded.

"And if those who are in green are commoners...where does that leave us, the guys in red?" The meek teen pondered aloud.

"That's exactly what I was trying to figure out. Nine people don't make a class, right?" The Schwarzer heir questioned.

Before either of his new friends could say anything in response, all attention was brought forward to the stage once again.

"And that brings us to the close of Thors' two hundred and fifteenth entrance ceremony." The voice of Vice Principal Heinrich announced; he was a noble looking man with fancy purple clothing and glasses, he had fair skin, long brown hair tied in a downward facing ponytail, and a matching thin brown mustache. "Next, please proceed to the class designated in your guidebook. There, you will go over the school rules, as well as your class' curriculum. That is all. Dismissed!"

And with that, the ceremony came to a close; all the students, excluding the nine in red, stood from their seats and began filing out of the auditorium in an orderly fashion. The academy teachers, along with principal and vice principal, did the same.

...

By the time everyone had vacated the building, only the nine students wearing red remained; one teacher stayed behind: all but one of the students failed to notice her at first.

"The class designated in our guidebook?" Elliot, now standing, repeated in confusion. "I don't remember seeing anything like that." He added, turning to face the other two boys.

"There wasn't any information on that in mine either." Rean stated with a shake of his head, as he stood up from his seat. "I just assumed they'd tell us where to go after the ceremony." He admitted.

Machias frowned from his spot beside them, visibly dissatisfied by their lack of information.

As Rean tried to work out what they should do next, his gaze wandered the room, taking note of the fact that none of the others in red seemed any more in the know than them. In doing this, his eyes landed on Fie, watching as she pointedly ignored him and stared at something, or rather someone, everyone else seemed to have missed. He followed her line of sight to this person.

She was a very beautiful young woman, who appeared to be in her mid-twenties; she had light skin, bright golden eyes, and long red-fuchsia hair: it was done it up in such a way that her locks didn't reach past the bottom of her neck. Her attire consisted of a long sleeve yellow thigh-length dress with three thick black stripes running down one side and black and white trimming; dark see-through thigh-high stockings with three thin white stripes down the front, comfortable looking open-toed black shoes, and a black choker around her neck. To top it all off, she adorned a dark blue trench coat with white trimming designs, and three white belt-like straps, buckles included; two of which were loose, while the other was locked in place just under the woman's generous bust, accentuating her assets.

"All riiiiight! Students in red uniforms, if I can have your attention please?" The woman spoke boisterously, getting everyone's attention in doing so. "By now, you're probably all confused. 'Where's MY class assignment', you're probably thinking. That's perfectly understandable. Your situation though is just a liiiittle more complicated than the other students. But before I explain, I'd like all of you to join me for a special orienteering exercise." She expounded.

"What?!" Machias exclaimed.

"Hmm..." Laura hummed in thought.

"Did you mean an orientation exercise?" Alisa asked.

Fie, unlike the others, didn't seem the slightest bit concerned about any of this; her eyes remained trained on the golden eyed woman the whole time, not daring to allow her gaze to wander.

"Worry not. Everything will be made clear soon enough." The fuchsia-red-haired woman reassured them. "Now, right this way, if you would." She directed them toward the exit, before taking the lead.

"E-Erm, uh..." Emma opened her mouth to speak but failed to truly speak, unsure of what to say about this.

"Looks like we're going to have to follow her if we want any answers." The foreign teen spoke for the first time since arriving in the auditorium.

'I never did get his name...' Rean realized.

The blond boy with a regal air simply sighed at all this.

'His either, for that matter.' The dark-haired boy appended.

With little choice but to comply, the nine teenagers fell behind the woman and followed her.

Rean and Elliot lagged behind the others momentarily to exchange words.

"What do you think this is all about?" The orange-haired boy asked.

"I have no idea, but we're not going to accomplish anything just standing around here. So our only real choice is to go with her." The swordsman answered.

"Yeah, I suppose so."

With that, the two moved to catch up with the others.

---

The nine students, led by the sole teacher accompanying them, were guided out of the auditorium, across the campus, and down a path tucked away at the very back of school grounds.

They followed this path for a short while, until, eventually, they reached the end; a clearing flanked by many trees awaited them: at the end of the clearing stood an old, run down schoolhouse.

The stone of the building had dulled considerably from age, the red of the roof looked lifeless; not even the bell was spared from the ravages of time: it lacked any sort of shine it once had, and appeared almost brittle from where it hung, like the slightest impact might crack the metal.

Such a decrepit place was in stark contrast to the rest of the campus, which was grand and pristine in condition. It was before this building that they finally came to a stop.

"Wh-What is this place?" Elliot questioned.

"Why is there a building this dilapidated on school grounds? It looks like it should have been torn down ages ago." Rean opined, his eyes wandering the landscape. 'This place is cut off from the rest of the campus, surrounded by grass and trees on all sides. It's almost like it's purposefully isolated from the school... I'd think that was the faculty's doing, if it weren't for these benches that look considerably newer than that building. But if they expected students to come all the way out here, then why not renovate it...?' He cogitated.

The golden eyed woman paid no mind to any questions the teenagers might have had, as she hummed to herself and ascended the steps up to the portico of the old schoolhouse. She came to the double doors and proceeded to unlock them with a key she pulled out of who knows where; she entered the rundown building, leaving the doors wide open as she disappeared inside. Without any sort of instruction or prompting, she clearly expected them to follow her inside.

"What does she even want us to do here?" Alisa posed the open-ended question most of them were thinking.

Rean shifted his gaze the blonde girl in question then, noticing the fact that he could find no trace of the nasty bruise he'd last seen her with. 'She seems to be okay. I'm glad. I didn't really get a chance to check on her after the RMP took her away for medical treatment.'

The moment after, not for the first time, the Schwarzer heir's wandering eyes landed on Fie. He had yet to have a chance to speak with her, and was quite anxious to do so.

She doubtlessly noticed, as his eyes had remained glued to her almost every moment she was in his presence.

"Is she ever going to tell us what's going on?" Machias wondered with an irritated sigh.

That got Rean's attention back on the matter at hand.

"I suppose we'll just have to go inside and see for ourselves what awaits us." Laura stated.

With that, the group of nine saw little reason to remain outside or for any further preamble, so they did as the woman before them, and ascended the steps and followed after her into the schoolhouse.

"Th-This place looks like some old haunted mansion or something..." The orange-haired boy remarked, the nervous tone of his voice unmistakable

"Now that you mention it, it kinda does." The black-haired teen agreed nonchalantly.

His words did nothing to absolve his friend of his anxiety.

"Not really what I was hoping you would say." The timid teenager confessed.

"Sorry, Elliot." The swordsman apologized to his friend with the smallest of grins, the expression a mix of sheepishness and just a touch of mirth.

Their conversation came to an end there, as they, having been at the back of the group, finally entered the building.

...

Unbeknownst to all the students below, hidden behind the many trees, two individuals watched them from their position on a hillock.

"So...these are our new underclassmen, huh?" The first of the two spoke: it was Crow.

"Yep. They've got a different set of hoops to jump through than we did though." The second one responded.

This second person was a sultry looking young woman, with light skin, aqua eyes, and nape-length dark magenta hair. She was clad in a black leather jumpsuit with matching black boots, and a beige belt.

"Honestly though, I'm just glad all our work's paying off. I'd hate to have put in a year's worth of effort for nothing." The magenta-haired youth commented.

"Heh. Ain't that the tru-wait, when did you do any work?" The white-haired teen's query was an open allegation. "You were just slacking off the whole time!"

"Ha! Says the master slacker!" She retorted with a laugh.

"Eh." He made no attempt to deny the claim, nor did he outright admit his guilt; he brushed the whole thing off at that point.

At that, they dropped the topic and moved on.

"Anyway, looks like Alisa's got some stiff competition. Quite a bevy of beauties they've got there." She remarked with a hint of excitement.

"Can't argue with you there." The red eyed boy concurred. "Wait, you know one of 'em? Weird. I just so happened to meet one of them earlier today."

"Oh, really? Was it during the commotion at the train station this morning?" The aqua eyed girl inquired.

"Pretty much." He confirmed. "The authorities were still keeping a lid on things when I bumped into him, so I got to talk to him before it truly started. It was only shortly after I saw him off on his way to the campus that everyone else in town started finding out about the whole debacle." He explained.

Not that his fellow teen had been listening, seemingly lost in her own world. "I am seriously looking forward to getting intimately acquainted with each and every one of those girls." She verbalized her desires, the slightest beginnings of a blush forming on her face, and a gleam of lust in her eyes.

"Why'd ya ask about it if you weren't gonna bother to listen to the answer!?" Crow irritably demanded.

That's when he realized exactly what she'd been saying while ignoring him.

"Wait! What!? No, no, no! Not these ones too, Angelica! Stop flirting with ever damned girl you lay eyes on!" The white-haired youth rebuked. "Do you have any idea how many guys at this school have gotten their hearts broken because of your libido!?" His abundance of vexation and exasperation were on open display at this point.

The girl known as Angelica clearly didn't care, as she simply chuckled at his words, and gave an almost smug smirk.

"D-Did you just sneer at me? You did, didn't you?!" In his incredulity at her actions, he dared her to answer.

"Come on, now! No fighting, you two." Came a third, much more gentle voice.

The two turned around at that.

Two people had joined them on the hillock.

The first was a rather small, petite thing; with light skin, long light brown her kept from flowing out with a ponytail holder, and bright green eyes. She was dressed in the typical Thors' female uniform, though she did have one personal touch to her uniform, that being the black tights she wore under her skirt.

The second was a somewhat heavyset and stocky fellow; he had light skin, short brown hair and matching brown eyes. He adorned a yellow tracksuit with white stripes, a brown buckled belt, brown gloves and boots, as well as a brown hat and a pair of work goggles.

"Towa, George, you finally made it. Nice work, you two." The leather-clad girl complimented.

"You got our little chickadees all sorted out, I take it?" The bandanna wearing boy presumed.

"Yup! They''re all bright-eyed and ready to go." The petite girl known as Towa cheerfully affirmed. "So from here on out, we're going to have to give it all we've got to support this fledgling class!" She exclaimed excitedly.

"Haha. Now you sound the part of the Student Council president." Angelica remarked.

"Guess she's going all in." Crow commented with a smirk.

"Well, they'd be in for a pretty rough time if we didn't help out a little. At least to start, anyway." The stocky boy known as George stated. "Everything's ready over there, right?" He requested confirmation.

"You betcha. Just like the instructor asked." The magenta-haired girl assured. "Can't help but feel sorry for them, though." She admitted, turning back to look at the old schoolhouse.

"Same here. They've got no idea what they're being tossed into." The white-haired youth shared in her sentiment, turning back around to look down at the dilapidated building. "The class they've been picked for didn't even exist before this year." He added.

None of the other three said anything to that.

"Guess all we can do is watch and see what they're made of, right?"

---

As the double-doors closed behind the students, they let their eyes roam, taking in the dark, spacious, and barren interior of the old schoolhouse.

Rean's eyes, after doing a once over of the building, fell to Fie, watching her as she continued to refuse to even look his way.

'There's no denying it at this point: she's ignoring me, outright trying to avoid me, even. But...why?' He turned the thought over and over again in his head, hoping to figure it out someway or another.

"The name's Sara Valestein." The red-fuchsia-haired woman introduced herself from her spot on some sort of stage; no one had even noticed her get up on it until now.

All eyes were on her at that point; she had everyone's full, undivided attention.

"I'm the instructor in charge of Class VII, which means you get the pleasure of seeing me all year." She informed them. "Glad to finally meet you." She greeted them all with a smile.

"Wait... Class Seven...?" Machias repeated, unsure if he'd heard correctly.

"No, Class VII." She corrected.

"That's what I said." The bespectacled boy contended; he did not receive a response.

"U-Us...?" Elliot asked, visibly unsure.

"I'm not sure I understand. I wasn't told anything about this at enrollment." Laura mentioned.

"Excuse me, Instructor Sara? I was under the impression that there were only five classes at this academy." Emma piped up. "And that students were split among them based on their social class and home region."

"Right you are, Miss Top Scorer on Thors' entrance exam!" Instructor Sara regarded the bespectacled girl with the same merry disposition she'd been displaying since she'd first spoken to the lot of them. "Students in each year are divided into five classes: two for the nobles and three for the commoners. And it's been that way for ages, right up through last year. But this year, we decided to shake things up a little." She explained.

Before any of those gather could ask for more details, she continued. "We now have a sixth class; fittingly titled, Class VII. And in Class VII, we recognize no distinction between nobles and commoners."

"Wait, you just jumped straight from five to seven?" Rean questioned.

"VII, actually." The woman corrected for the second time.

"You're really putting nobles and commoners in the same class?" Alisa queried.

"This must be some kind of joke!" This irate outburst came from Machias. "And why is this the first I've heard of it?!" He demanded to know, having gone from zero to sixty.

"Well, uh...err... Who are you again...?" Instructor Sara inquired, having blanked on his name.

"Machias Regnitz!" He gave his name more forcefully than needed. "And with all due respect, Instructor, it's ludicrous to intermix nobles and commoners like this! Must I be forced to spend my next two years shoulder to shoulder with those arrogant, stuck-up hedonists!?" He questioned, rather cross at the notion.

'If that's how he really feels... Things are gonna be real awkward once he finds out.' Rean scratched his cheek in that moment, feeling a little self-conscious all of a sudden. No one seemed to notice.

"Uh... You do know I'm not the one who made the decision, right?" The red-fuchsia-haired woman pointed out with half-lidded eyes, losing some of her merriness at the ridiculous idea she'd had anything to do with this decision. "Besides, what's the big deal, anyway? You're all kids; can't you all just...get along or something?" She posed to him, a tad flippant in manner; it was all too apparent she didn't see what the big deal was.

"J-Just get along!? Ha! And how would you propose we do that?" The bespectacled boy questioned her.

The blond boy to his right audibly hmphed at this.

The dark green-haired teen seemed to perceive that with negative connotations, as he looked over at the other boy and asked, "And what's your problem?"

"Oh, nothing much. I just find the irony of your behavior rather humorous." The electric-blue eyed teen answered dispassionately.

"Is that so?" Machias' eyes narrowed ever so slightly behind his glasses. "It seems the scion of some noble house has left the comfort of his mansion to grace the unwashed masses with his wisdom! Please milord, do share your esteemed name with us so I can give you all the respect you deserve." He mocked, going so far as to put on a bad acting voice to convey false reverence as he did so.

"Jusis Albarea." The blond noble replied without hesitation. "Not that I'd expect the name of an arrogant, stuck-up hedonist to lodge itself in that hard head of yours." He retorted coolly.

Machias was visibly taken aback by this information.

Elliot couldn't hide his surprise. "H-He's from one of the Four Great Houses."

Everyone else...didn't really have much of a reaction.

"The son of Duke Albarea, lord of the Kreuzen province in the southeast." Rean contextualized the blond's status.

"Well, you don't much more noble than that." Alisa commented.

"Interesting. I'd heard the rumors..." Laura thought aloud.

The foreign boy stared at the blond, but said nothing.

Fie seemed the least affected by the news, as she simply yawned.

"D-Do you expect me to be impressed?! Your family lineage means nothing to me! I will never bend my knee to the likes of you!" Machias proclaimed, completely incensed.

Tensions were rising, at least they were on one side; thankfully, before the situation could escalate, Instructor Sara interposed with two quick claps, calling everyone's attention to her.

"Okay, okay, that's enough! Why don't you two just keep away from one and other?" She suggested. "At least for now."

Neither of the boys in question gave any sort of agreement, but put some distance between themselves, regardless.

"Good boys." She said then, coming off as just a tad patronizing; this earned her not so nice looks from the two in question.

"As for the rest of you, go ahead and introduce yourselves. We've got a good share circle here, so let's keep it going." She instructed them. "I'll even get you started; some of you here worked together to put the kibosh on a train robbery this morning." She revealed this fact to those not in the know. "Why don't those involved start us off."

That bit of info caused a few brows to raise: Laura, Jusis, and the foreign boy; their curiosities seem piqued.

No arguments were made, as the five involved spoke up, one after the other.

"I have already introduced myself." Machias said, giving verbal confirmation he was one of them.

Instructor Sara gave a nod at that.

"My name is Elliot Craig. It's nice to meet you all." Elliot introduced himself with a small bow.

"Thank you, Elliot." The golden eyed woman acknowledged.

"Emma Millstein. Nice to make your acquaintance." Emma gave her name politely, with a small bow of her own.

The red-fuchsia-haired woman gave another nod.

"I'm Alisa R-" Alisa began, only to suddenly stop, catching herself. "I'm Alisa R, from Roer." She recovered well enough. "I'm sorry to say I didn't actually do much to help, but I was involved, regardless." She wore her dissatisfaction with that fact openly.

"Alisa R., huh? How mysterious." The instructor teased.

"I'm Rean Schwarzer, from Ymir. It's nice to meet you guys." Rean gave a proper introduction. "I'll admit, this feels a bit redundant at this point, considering I already met most of you on the way here." He added.

Barring Fie and Jusis, this earned a chuckle from all those he'd run into today.

"I'm sure those of you who weren't involved have questions for them, but save'em for now." The busty woman told them. "Now, who's next?"

"I'm Gaius Worzel." The tall foreigner finally gave his name.

"Seven down, two to go." The teacher remarked.

"I am Laura S. Arseid, from the town of Legram. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Laura gave her own proper introduction.

"Wait, that would mean your father is-" Machias started.

"Yes, my father is Viscount Arseid, Lord of Legram." The blue-haired noble finished for him. "Do you take issue with that?" There wasn't a hint of anger or annoyance in her tone, it was a pure curious inquiry.

"N-No, not at all..." The bespectacled teen was visibly taken off guard, and was unsure of what to say. "I just, uh, I..."

"I can only speak for myself, but I don't feel I've ever done anything to bring shame upon myself in Aidios' eyes. And I fully believe the same to be true of my father." The amber eyed girl asserted.

"P-Please, I meant no offense. I'm sorry if I...if I, uh..." Machias struggled to find the right words to smooth this over.

In end, he was spared any further embarrassment, as Instructor Sara interjected, "A truly proper introduction; very good, Laura."

The instructor pointedly stared in the direction of the last of them then. "And then there was one." She said, trying to prompt the silver-haired girl.

She, of course, failed to take the hint. And it was intentional.

The red-fuchsia haired woman clearly knew it, too. "We're waiting." She prodded.

"You already know my name." The lime-green eyed girl replied to her elder, making no attempt to hide her disinterest.

"I do, yes. But they don't. They're going to be your classmates, you're gonna have to tell them your name eventually, might as well get it out of the way. So, go on." The older woman attempted to spur her on.

Finally, Fie gave in with a sigh. "Fie Claussell." However, give her name was all she did.

Instructor Sara gave a sigh of her own at the bare minimal cooperation. "I suppose that'll just have to do."

Shaking off her disappointment, the vibrant young woman addressed the group as a whole once more. "Alright, now that you all know each other, or at least, are acquainted with one and other, we can begin."

At that, Machias, Emma, and Alisa all opened their mouths; whether to protest or ask question, it mattered not.

They were cut off before they could get out so much as a syllable. "Now, now, I'm sure at least a couple of you have a few grievances, but now's not the time. I'll hear your complaints later." Instructor Sara assured. "Right now, you've got your orienteering exercise, and far be it from me to keep you from our fun little ice breaker."

"Ugh." Machias exhaled in aggravation.

"You mentioned this...'orienteering exercise' earlier? What does that involve, exactly?" Alisa inquired.

"It's a form of outdoor competition, isn't it? Something like a cross between a map-reading exercise and a scavenger hunt?" Emma put forth.

"Is that why they asked us to hand over our weapons at the gate?" Rean suddenly queried, adding to the questions posed to the instructor.

"Nothing gets by you, does it?" Said instructor remarked with a smirk. "Well, I could tell you guys what it's all about, buuuuut-" She purposefully drew out the word, backing up several paces as she did; she stopped only once her back was grazing the wall.

"I don't want to spoil the fun, so let's get started, shall we?" With that inauspicious statement, her smirk widened; she reached her right hand out and pressed a relatively well-hidden button located in the middle of the pillar she stood beside.

With that, the floor was unceremoniously pulled out from beneath their feet, quite literally: a large section of the floor folded downward, revealing a drop.

It was a goddamn trap door!

"Oh crap!" Rean spat, just before gravity took effect.

A multitude of scared and or surprised gasps escaped the group of teens; the majority of them proceeded to fall straight down, disappearing from sight.

Only Rean and Fie remained.

Rean did his very best to hang on, digging in his heels and trying to keep ahold on the smooth surface of the folded floor, alas, there was simply nothing to grab onto: it was an impossible task. It was inevitable that he would slide off despite himself, and drop down the hole just like the others; it was just a matter of a few, short moments.

Fie, on the other hand, leapt upward at the last second. Reaching for something tucked away on her person, she whipped it out and took aim at the ceiling, only to realize at the last second that her hand held nothing but air.

Eyes widening in shock, the young silver-haired girl caught the gaze of the instructor.

"Tsk, tsk, Fie; no cheating." Sara wagged her finger at the younger girl, revealing the grappling hook she'd swiped from her.

The natural laws asserted themselves, and gravity sent the silver-haired girl plummeting down the hole in the floor.

Rean was just about out of room to slide, he too, was about to drop. He'd intended to continue struggling to cling to the smooth surface, out of reflex, if nothing else. However, that task was quickly forgotten, as he caught sight of her.

Time almost seemed to slow as Fie fell past him; his heart sped up, and without even thinking about it, he leapt after her.

Catching her mid-fall, he wrapped his arms around her, and they plummeted down the hole together.

...

"Huh. I'm starting to think those two know each other, somehow." Sara remarked to herself, pushing the button again, causing the trap door to lift itself back up into place.

---

In the heart of the Erebonian Capital of Heimdallr

A man of great stature, both literally and figuratively, sat at a desk within a grand office. The back of his chair was to the door, leaving him to face the window overlooking the city; the position he was in concealed him almost entirely from view.

There was a knock at the door then.

"Come in." The man said.

"Sir?" Came the voice of one of the many staffers on duty in the palace. "I apologize for the intrusion, but his Majesty the Emperor wishes to see you."

"Oh?" He didn't bother to turn around as he spoke.

"He had requested your presence earlier this morning, but you were not in your office." The staffer recounted.

"Yes." The man affirmed in his baritone voice. "I must give my apologies to his Majesty for the inconvenience."

...

The train was preparing to depart the station; the boarding process had just finished.

A raven-haired boy sat alone, almost sequestered from his fellow passengers; he was next to the window, making him visible to all who so much as glanced that way.

This boy was utterly oblivious to the imposing-looking man watching him from afar.

Dressed in plain clothes, with a hat to complete the ensemble: no one noticed his presence. Anyone in the country could tell you his name, yet like this, he wasn't given so much as a second glance.

Erebonia's Chancellor was all but a ghost to those around him.

He stood away from the crowds, simply watching, until finally, the train pulled out of the station.

Having seen the boy off, the Chancellor had no further business here and promptly left the building.

...

"I had stepped out for a spot of breakfast." The man simply said.

Then, he rose from his chair.

"I shall go see what his Majesty requires of me, immediately."