A/N: Happy new year everyone! Yes its belated, and yes, its way late in the month compared to my usual update timeframe, but life should be calming down and updates speeding up. *knocks on wood

As usual I don't own RWBY or Highschool DxD, and make nothing off this aside from the personal satisfaction that people can enjoy (or at least enjoy hating on) something I wrote.

The rest of the ride back to Beacon had been silent. Stowing their weapons, changing out of their combat outfits then showering the days grime, sweat and filth off wordless. Part of that may have been an extension of the subdued, mournful nature that hung over their floor of the dorms. The teams that had been with professor Goodwitch looked particularly lost, but no one really had the energy or heart to tell them why team RBDDs leader had only stopped in the dorms long enough to collect changes of clothes for his team, or why FSJC hadn't come back at all.

No, team JNPR is silent because of the answers Jaune had promised. So, after cleaning and changing, Jaune had taken a seat on their teams futon, the eclectic mishmash of pajamas, including but not limited to Nora wearing one of Rens t-shirts judging by how it hangs off her and reaches her knees, Pyrrha sat next to him in mens athletic shorts and a tank-top, or Ren's hair restrained by a beehive-like towel wrap to dry.

"So... why didn't you tell us that you're a faunus Jaune?" Nora eventually breaks the silence as she paces in front of him and Pyrrha.

Jaune shifts awkwardly, the cheap 'good enough for a dorm' futons fabric scratching his bare back "Because I'm not?"

Ren shifts, and crosses his arms over his chest "Then how do you explain the wings?"

"That disappear and reappear when you want them too! Or the crazy aura light-show that turns your sword into a different sword!" Nora tacks on, stopping her pacing to point at him, face somewhere between accusatory and frightened.

Ren takes a step forward to rest a hand on Noras shoulder, causing the girl to relax a bit "With dubious and incredibly dire special properties." he pauses and shifts his head to glare at Pyrrha "And why aren't you as shocked as Nora and I, Pyrrha?"

Pyrrha looks away from the pink-eyed young man. "Because I found out a few weeks ago. I'm... sorry."

Jaune scratches at the back of his head "And while its true that I'm not exactly human, I'm not a faunus either."

"Then what are you!?"

"What else is there to be?"

Jaune takes a steadying breath, manifests his wings, and conjures a basic shield magic circle behind him for good measure. "I'm a devil."

Silence dominates the room for almost a full minute, Nora and Ren blinking dumbly, mouths hanging open while Jaune and Pyrrha fidget awkwardly from the couch. "You're telling me your that weirdo with the horns and pitchfork in a red jumpsuit?"

"Answers were promised, Jaune. Stop lying."

Pyrrha taps Jaunes arm "Maybe you could show them what you showed me?"

Jaune closes his eyes, starts massaging them and lets out a sigh "Magic, functional immortality, night vision better than a faunus, comprehension of spoken languages, and flight. But I still have to deal with a stupid stereotype cartoon that I though was from a different world."

Ren perks up a bit at that "That is an... awfully specific list of powers and abilities."

Jaune shrugs "Because that's the basics of what all devils have."

"Just the basics?"

"Whoa whoa whoa, back up. Functional immortality?" Nora cuts her partners line of questioning off. She almost looks, eager. "And magic? How does that work?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, Ren tacks on "And what exactly do you mean by functional?"

Jaune shrugs "Its not that I cant be killed, its just that time wont be what does it." Jaune answers with a slight grin on his face. "Though ten thousand years is the generally accepted average lifespan, whether your pure-blooded or a reborn like me."

Nora tilts her head "But, wont you get all..." she waves her hand in front of her face, clearly searching for the right words. "Gross? Old?"

"Decaying and decrepit." Ren offers, doubt creeping back onto his face.

Still grinning, Jaune waves the duo off. Really, immortality is one of the biggest perks of being a devil "Within the next decade or so, my aging is going to slow way down. Some ultimate class devils even use their magic to pick what age they appear to be."

"Ultimate class?" Ren prompts, seeming to be mollified by Jaunes explanation, but still curious.

Before Jaune can retake control of the conversation back and instruct Ren not to get too far ahead of Jaunes explanation, Pyrrha cuts in. "I can answer that actually. Society in the underworld -"

"Where devils live normally, its different from hell, I'll explain that later." Jaune quickly cuts in when Noras face shifts from passive optimism and curiosity to fear.

Pyrrha shoots a flat gaze at Jaune, and continues "is hierarchical. Low and then mid class devils make up the bulk of the population. Low class devils are, from what I've had explained to me, probably not much more impressive than a huntsman or huntress in training. A mid-class devil could most likely defeat several professional huntsmen by themselves."

"That's, quite the power jump." Ren interjects as Nora plops down on the floor crosslegged, the bottom of the shorty shorts she normally wears for pajamas peeking out from under the hem of Rens t-shirt as she does so.

"It varies pretty heavily once you get out of low class. Politics have as much to do with advancement as ability." Jaune offers before looking back to his partner so she can continue her explanation.

Pyrrha nods and offers Jaune a small smile "High class devils are fairly rare, and normally the lowest rank for a King. I... dont have any real comparison for what high class devils are capable of. Ultimate class, are vanishingly rare, and could easily defeat several high class devils on their own, if they wanted too."

Before any more questions can be asked Jaune picks up his explanation again "As a devil gets more powerful, their magic does as well. Low class devils are usually able to preform a trick or two on top of basic teleportation and shield spells."

Ren shifts his gaze from Pyrrha to Jaune again, eyes still sharp, body language still judging "Tricks like?"

The blonde shrugs "Varies, every devils magic is unique to them, and grows as they grow more powerful and older."

"Think of a devils magic like a semblance. Even in two individuals with the same 'type' of semblance, how it manifests is unique." Pyrrha offers, getting a nod from Ren and an 'ohh' of understanding from Nora.

After a few more moments of silence as Ren leans against one of the posts holding his bed aloft, he asks "Pyrrha mentioned something about kings before?"

Jaune reaches over the side of the couch and pulls the case he always keeps on his person, and opens it to reveal a chess set. The white pieces plain, unadorned plastic, the black glinting with unnatural light and decorated with what look to be ornate platinum banding and trimwork. "The rank and title held by of the leader of a peerage, which is a construct of the Evil Piece System. Which is a means to stave off extinction as well as a constructive outlet for conflict resolution."

Nora actually raises her hand to get Jaunes attention, he pauses, a bit shocked, then nods at her. "Underworld, Evil Piece System, feudal society, how do we know your not an evil jerk acting like a dorky, kinda clueless, but mostly friendly huntsman in training?"

Jaune forces an awkward laugh and scratches at the back of his head "Yea, some of the remnants of the old ruling classes way of doing things make us look like the bad guys on the surface. Think of the Underworld like a lid for Hell. Part of the devils job in the supernatural world is keeping the damned in. The original Satan and loosing side of the civil war that happened a few decades ago had devils damning and taking souls to gain power. That lead to a three way war that nearly wiped out the forces of Heavan, the Underworld and the angels that split off from Heavens Hosts to fight using more... extreme, measures. And take over the underworld for themselves, as they had no home realm anymore. Now when we complete a contract, we just accept a token or gift of some sort from the person."

Nora casts a doubting glance at Jaune "Complete a contract? And you still didn't explain the whole Evil Piece System with your little history lesson mister."

Jaune chuckles "Completing contracts with mortals who summon us, or combat are the two main ways devils can grow more powerful and move up in the classes. The Evil Piece System was developed during the tail end of the original Satans reign, which is why its the Evil Piece System, not something less ominous."

Ren squints at Jaune "You still haven't explained how a contract can increase your power, or what you mean by that."

"Devils are strongly tied to desire, both our own and those of others. When we are summoned, we fulfill one of the desires of the person who summoned us, accept a gift of some sort, and gain power. The government keeps track of how many contracts you've completed so that it knows when its the right time to allow a devil to be moved to a higher class." Jaune explains, absentmindedly canceling out the magic circle behind him and retracting his wings.

Nora, blushing a bit interjects "So, um, by desires do you mean..." she raises her hands, making a circle with her left and moving her rights index and middle fingers towards it.

Jaune quickly waves her off. "No! No, I mean, well, there are some specialists that do form contracts like that, but most of us just, help people get things they normally couldn't or would have a hard time with on their own. One of my friends has an oversrtressed businesswoman for a regular, and just gives her massages."

Pyrrha lets out a small sigh, then presses "So, you haven't even explained this Evil Piece System to me yet..."

Grinning a bit, Jaune picks out one of the pawns from the black pieces in his set. "Each of the more ornate pieces in this set is solidified magic. They allow me, the King and leader of my eventual peerage to reincarnate others as Devils. Starting from the bottom, we have the pawn, no specific boosts to the reborn devils innate skills and abilities, but I can have up to eight, and in the right circumstances they can take on the traits of any other piece they desire."

Ren tilts his head to the side "What do you mean by 'up to eight' pawns?"

"Depending on how strong an individual is, they may take more than one piece to reincarnate as a devil. The different pieces each are worth a specific value, like in competitive chess." Jaune answers.

Nora chimes in "And what did you mean by saying you are allowed to have the pawns. Since your, apparently, a king, does that mean your pawns are..." she trails off, an uneasy look on her face again.

Jaune chuckles at that "King is just the technical term for the leader of a peerage. And my pieces are, legally, part of my household, so I'm held responsible for their actions. They are also my subordinates on the battlefield and in Rating Games. Members of a peerage retain all of their free will and independence. In fact, its not unheard of for devils created through this system to reach High Class and be awarded their own peerage, leaving their former masters."

Grinning a bit "So, its like a larger Huntsman team then?"

Jaune nods "Thats a good way to look at it. The advice I got on being an effective King I've already been applying to leading our team." he pauses to take a breath, and mentally bemoans the fact that he didn't think to get a bottle of water to wet his throat with all the talking he is doing. "After pawns, are the knights, bishops and rooks who receive boosted speed and reflexes, magical prowess and potential, then boosted strength and endurance respectively. If Nora and Ren had noticed his eyes falling on them when he mentioned rook and bishop, they don't comment on it.

Pyrrha reaches over her side of the couch, fishes her hand around a bit, and hands Jaune a water bottle from the case of them they keep there. "Your voice is starting to get hoarse Jaune."

He drains half the bottle, thanks his partner, and continues "Next is the Queen, who receives a more substantial iteration of the boost in power that the rook, knight and bishop do when reincarnated, and acts as their kings right hand, adviser and proxy when one is needed. And before any of you ask, no, the king and queen roles are not gender bound."

Pyrrha lays a rests her hand on Jaunes knee "Am I correct in assuming that the ability to turn others into devils is how the low fertility rate they suffer from is circumvented?"

Jaune nods "Yup, though there are some more traditionalist devils who see reborn devils as lesser than naturally born or 'pure blooded' devils. Its stupid, but you get used to it."

"Ah, I nearly forgot you mentioning that you were born a human and were turned into a devil at the start of this." Nora chuckles. "This is a lot to take in, heh."

Jaune chuckles as well "Plus its been a long day and is getting late. Kind of the reason I was telling Pyrrha all of this in smaller, more manageable portions over the last few weeks. I'll tell you the particulars of Sacred Gears, Familiars and Rating Games if it becomes necessary. I think its time we all hit the sack."

"Your... not, going to try to recruit us for your peerage?" Ren asks as Jaune rises to go to his bed.

He shrugs, and does his best to keep the fact that he desperately wants his team to become the start of his peerage from showing on his face. "Its a big decision, and not something that should be asked lightly. Though if any of you want to, let me know, and I'll be happy to have you."

All three of the other teens gazes linger on the small metal case Jaune is clipping shut, hiding his Evil Pieces away again. Ren and Nora eventually stand to head for their beds, Pyrrha is the last to move, and breaks the silence with a simple "I'll, consider, it. Jaune." Ren and Nora both echo her sentiment from their beds as Pyrrna uses her semblance to flick the lights off and the quartet begin to drift off to sleep.

_-*R-DxD*_

The next morning starts subdued, most of the teams on their floor opting to laze about their dorms, likely all coming to the same conclusion that it would be best to stay in after Coco had poked her head in to inform them of a meeting for their floor in the common room at eleven. For a while the room is silent, Ren sitting cross-legged on his meditation mat, Pyrrha laying on her bed fiddling with her scroll, Nora watching a re-run of one of the sitcoms she follows and Jaune making more contract tags for Saber to spread through the city at his desk. It isn't an uncomfortable silence, but it swiftly becomes the sort that no one really knows how to break. Even his familiar appearing in the room via one of the corners and laying down next to his master fails to get much of a reaction.

Eventually, a small scowl sets in place on Noras face, and, with all of the subtlety Jaune has come to expect from the girl over the last month, announces "So, brunch after this mystery meeting Coco wants everyone to be at before me an Jaune go to fix our gear?"

Pyrrhas voice drifts down from her bed "That sounds wonderful." a few heartbeats after Nora finishes talking. Ren replies with a noncomittal shrug and a nod of his head.

All three of his teammates eyes fall on Jaune as he swivels his desk chair to look into the room. "That sounds fine to me. I take it this means all of you are okay with, you know..."

Nora shrugs, her typical grin back on her face "Dunno about becoming a devil yet, but it sounds to me like the sort of thing people who treat faunus like garbage would worry about. You still came to Beacon and are learning to fight grimm like the rest of us."

Ren nods as he rises from his place on the floor. "You may not have told us what your long term goals are, but with a life expectancy as long as yours, I suppose studying at beacon and working with your team afterwords counts as sharing the short term with us." He pauses, then asks "You do plan on working as a huntsman with us after Beacon, right?" Jaune nods reassuringly at that.

"Though I wouldn't mind knowing what you want to do with all that time." Pyrrha interjects as she adroitly vaults over the edge of her bed to the ground and the rest of her team.

Jaune shrugs "That's, well, I wont say its going to be easy, but my plan is a pretty straightforwards one. The underworld is largely led by the Seventy Two Pillars, each one is a Noble Clan of considerable power." he pauses to make sure he doesn't launch into another lecture with prying ears soon to be nearby, but cant help but add "Though it really should be called the Thirty Two pillars with the losses of the Three Way War having forty of them wiped out or defunct to the point of irrelevance. I want to raise House Arc to be one of the new pillars."

Rens eyes bug out ever so slightly "That's, certainly an ambitious goal. It sounds like more a political than combative goal, however."

"And how can you be an entire noble clan when its just you?" Nora tacks on as she rests her hand on the doorknob. She then turns to look directly at him, bright blue eyes searching but holding no malice.

Realizing that Nora doesn't intend to open the door until he answers, Jaune replies "No clan that can't win any rating games would ever be recognized as one of the pillars, so training here will only help me. As to Noras question, well, it wont always be just me, I hope at least, and judging by my parents the family will probably end up being a big one. Aside from that, the members of peerages within the Pillars are normally treated as branch families of the main Clan bloodline once those start forming."

Satisfied with the answer, the bombastic ginger opens the door and leads the quartet down the hallway to the common room. Team RWBY has already claimed a couch, as have one of the other teams. JNPR claim the final couch that roughly faces the lone chair Coco is sitting in, forcing the stragglers that had arrived after them to split apart and claim armchairs or spots on the floor. Their RA lets loose a low sigh closes her eyes for a moment, then opens them and starts "Right, so you have probably noticed that teams Rebound and Fusion aren't here. And excluding team Juniper, that's probably all you know, aside from maybe that their leaders only stopped through here briefly last night."

The others in the room all nod slowly and nervously. "Yea, whats up with that, I thought we had to sleep in the dorms during the school year." Yang interjects, leaning against the left arm of the sofa her team had claimed.

"During the grimm clearing exercise yesterday, Corvis Bowyer from Rebound had her arm torn out by an ursa major. She's in a medically induced coma and will be fit with a combat grade prosthetic once her condition has fully stabilized. She will have a guaranteed spot during next years initiation, But Louis Creus from team Fusion will be taking her spot in Rebound. The rest of Rebound didn't want to leave her side until she came too, and slept in the infirmary." Coco answers, killing the smile on Yangs face and tanking the mood in the room.

Looking around with wide eyes, Ruby asks "But what about Flora? I know her and Louis are partners and dating. Did they break up or something? Who is gonna be her partner now."

Coco holds up a hand to stop the sometimes hyper team leaders babbling "Tragically, Flora -" Cocos pauses, probably to steady her voice and collect herself "Flora was killed in action yesterday." Ruby sucks in a breath at that, and is pulled into a one-armed hug by Yang. "Her team is currently in one of the mourners apartments near the Catacombs. The openings on the team will be filled by Dun Leight, who had his lungs scorched in an accident during the last month of his true freshman year last year and is now fully recovered; and Tanith Targe, whose partner is now a paraplegic after last weeks grimm clearing exercise in the Emerald Forest."

"Just like that?"

"What will the team names be?"

"When are the others coming back?"

The questions start to flow increasingly quickly as the other students present start to get over the initial shock. Coco holds up a hand to silence everyone again. "The changes to team rosters and dorm arrangements will be finalized by Friday. New names will be up to the teams in question. Once classes are finished on Friday, Headmaster Ozpin will be speaking with all of the freshmen in the auditorium, attendance is mandatory." She pauses again, before adding "If, if any of you need to talk, but don't think its so bad as to need one of the staff Councilors or Psychiatrists, my doors always open." her face shifts from pensive to a stubborn scowl "But if I think you do need professional help after we talk I will drag your sorry butt to it myself." Silence reigns after that statement, until, with a shrug, Coco adds "That's it, I just wanted to tell everyone at once instead of dragging this out over the whole day."

The gathered freshmen stand and start dispersing, but none of them are really talking all that much.

_-*R-DxD*_

Tuesday evening is dreary and overcast, but otherwise the perfect weather for a walk. Which is exactly what Blake is doing, though most would call it aimlessly wandering the streets of Vale. Its not that she was upset with her team, or brooding, rather the introvert just needs a break.

Ironically, as the faunus in disguise ambles down the sidewalk it is her team that she finds her mind drawn to, absently trying to figure out why she had felt compelled to wander off on her own without any real provocation. She idly watches a young couple amble past her, a busty blond girl, a bit shorter than Yang hand in hand with a willowy pink haired girl in a sundress and finds her mind drawn to her partner, and probably her best friend, Yang despite having known her for just over a month. While Yang can be more than a little extra, things are almost never boring when she is around. And introvert she may be, Blake hates being bored.

A gaggle of rowdy kids pass her, jostling her about as they shout and tease and laugh. They look to be about Rubys age, though they move with the clumsy gait of civilians instead of the poise of huntsman and huntresses in training. Speaking of her leader, while the young prodigies excessive energy can be a handful, she is simply to earnest and caring to hold that against her. Much like her older sister life around her is far from dull or without humor.

A stressed out looking woman in a sharply cut business suit barrels through the pack of children, and nearly bowls Blake over as she growls into her scroll. The womans stern expression and ice blue eyes draws Blakes mind to the last member of her team, Weiss Schnee. The white haired heiress may have some truly vexing habits, but true to her words at the end of their first week as a team, she is trying. On top of that, Blake is good enough at reading people to know that many of the insensitive, upsetting, or downright racist things she does or says are more due to her upbringing than any real malice. With a mirthful twist of her lips she decides it will be a pet project of hers.

"Honestly, I don't care whether or not you used to be in the Fang, I'm just trying to warn you." An achingly familiar voice cuts through the din of the early evening crowd. Blake looks off to her right to see Crimm sitting in a chair just inside the entrance of Club Fahrenheit, a bag from a sandwich shop she had passed a block or so back resting against one of the chairs legs. Illia is wearing a rust colored sundress, Lightning Lash resting in a sheath over her shoulder, hands planted on her hips. "There's a new player on the rise in the White Fang who makes Adam Taurus look tame."

"And I don't have a clue what your talking about." the nightclubs owner/bartender lazily drawls, barely looking up from his dinner. Curious, Blake picks a nearby newsstand to browse at so that she can continue listening in.

She isn't nearly close enough to hear the girl who had once been like a little sister to hers annoyed huff, but she hopes she knows her well enough that it is still there as she expects. "Look old man, its not exactly a secret that High Leader Khan usurped control of the Fang from Chieftain Beladonna. Or that Adam Taurus is her right hand and a big advocate of the more effective tactics employed now." Crimm scoffs at that, and Blake does catch Ilia casting a scowl at the older faunus through the shifting crowd of early evening shoppers. "Whether or not you approve, Quartz Iatl doesn't share Adams 'if it helps faunus it's acceptable' mentality. That Broken Tusk you have hidden in your clubs facade paint-job will get you branded as a traitor and deserter in Quartzs eyes. If how he has managed things in Mistral is any indicator, you wont be being instructed to return to the fold by a few uniformed brothers and sisters if he gets control of Vale like he wants."

At that, Ilia turns and stomps off down the street. While she waits for her former friend to clear earshot, Blake cant help but smile a bit. Broken Tusk had been one of her ideas, back when her father had been High Leader. A deeply curved tusk broken in three places, easy to hide in decorations or as graffiti. A small indicator that any faunus on the run from oppression or in need of aid will receive it inside the building it was found on. After a few minutes, she makes her way over to the reclining snake faunus. "I have half a dozen questions I wish I could ask her right now."

Crimm shrugs, and wipes his hands, hoagie now finished and stands up. "I take it you two were close?" Blake nods, and he pats her shoulder reassuringly "If you were smart enough to get out, I'm sure she'll come around eventually."

Frowning, Blake looks away from him "I was also dating Adam Taurus. Not sure if I can consider myself a good judge of character."

Crimm cringes "Yea, I can see why you don't want a rebound... anything." after a few more moments of silence, the nightclub owner pokes her shoulder "Enough of the pouting kid, I didn't mean anything by it."

She sighs, and knows she is partly acting like a petulant child over the emotional wound getting prodded at unintentionally, and postulates "I wonder if Ilia has realized that this, Quartz, doesn't need direct control of Vale operations to have his will done here." Crimm tilts his head and casts a sidelong glance at Blake. "You probably weren't involved in many of the higher up meetings, or hear about the fallout from some of the closed door debates, but Sienna fed into Adams actions and mentality as much as he did hers."

Crimm shakes his head, not needing long at all to understand what Blake is implying "As much as I'd like to talk about old times and where things went wrong; and hate to do what I'm about too do, I think I need to do some re-painting before it gets dark out."

"Need a hand?" Blake offers, not really sure if she even wants to. He may be friendly enough, but she barely knows the man aside from a few bits of shared past.

He waves her off, sparing her having to think more on the prospect of aiding him. "If I could recognize you with the bow, someone else might be able to as well. There's no telling whether or not I'm being watched besides, and I always do most of the upkeep maintenance myself. Don't want to be seen breaking pattern if I am being observed. Have a nice evening, and don't be a stranger."

Blake waves at the snake faunus and wanders back into the city, still no destination in mind. However, her mind is now treading the unsettling grounds of how Adam Taurus could possibly get any worse, or how someone could be so morally bankrupt as to qualify as worse than him. She does not sleep well that night.

_-*R-DxD*_

While Blake is wandering Vale, the rest of her team is lounging in the common area of their dorms, and Jaune and Nora are doing their best to finish the extra homework the weapons malfunctions the previous weekend had landed the pair with in the library. Professor Shang normally doesn't assign any work outside the machine shop... unless he finds out that a student had a weapon malfunction or breakdown anywhere but the stress test lab. So, while Ren quietly reads reads a book, Jaune and Nora are taking pens to weapon schematics, finding and correcting flaws in mechashift mechanisms. Pyrrha had opted to spend some time at one of Beacons many gyms before meeting back up with her team, hopefully once the boring extra classwork is done, to go out to Vale for dinner.

"So, Jaune," Nora looks up from her coursework, looking more than a little curios and quite bored, "if Ren and I did decide to be devils with you, what pieces would you use for us?"

Jaune makes a mark on the blueprint in front of him, and sets his pen down before glancing around. Seeing that they are still alone in the secluded alcove of the Beacon library they had claimed, decides that a candid answer would be best. "A rook for you, and a bishop for Ren."

Nora pouts at that, crossing her arms on the table, and dropping her chin into the gap between before blowing a stray lock of hairs away from her face "Aww, so no magic for Nora?"

Jaune cant help but chuckle at his teammates reaction before he answers "No, Nora, all devils inherently have magic, its just that a rooks potential isn't boosted by their piece."

"Not that I'm questioning your experience or judgment, but why a bishop for me, with how agile my fighting style is..." Ren prompts, looking up from his book with curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

Jaune rubs at the back of his head and manages to suppress the nervous chuckle "Well, of all the friends I've made since I came to beacon, two others are more dependent on speed and mobility than you for how they fight. And I heard about what you did to that King Taijitu during initiation, aura control that fine will translate." Hopefully the mental I hope didn't make it too his face.

Before the conversation can progress any further, all three of their scrolls ping a notification at the same time. They glance at each other nervously, before Jaune pulls his scroll from his pocket to check it. Seeing a new message in the team groupchat, he opens that to see a video sent by Pyrrha at the bottom of the feed. He taps play, and is shown Cardin standing in a secluded corner of one of the training areas, The Executioner rested on his left shoulder, right hand holding his scroll to his ear. The angle of the camera making it clear Pyrrha had been doing her best to be discreet with her recording. "Yes, master, I'm sure of it." he pauses, listening to whomever he is calling. "If those are your orders, of course. I'll meet you there, then we can cleanse the taint from this Academy."

After the video plays, Jaune feels his gut ice over at the one word message Pyrrha had sent with her recording: 'following'. Jaune snaps off a message telling her to be careful, before looking to the rest of his team. "I know that this is my fight, if you don't want to-"

"Lets get our gear." Nora cuts him off as she rolls her homework up and stands.

_-*R-DxD*_

Pyrrha had waited nearly ten minutes after sending her team the unit number of the warehouse she had tailed Cardin too before she had decided to enter and investigate ahead of her team. She had been confident her combat prowess would be more than enough to deal with any danger within. Despite there being only one access point to what should have been a disused warehouse, she felt the urge to be sure this was the right warehouse; perhaps even bring this entire week of Cardin and his team baiting and/or attempting to kill Jaune to a close herself. The small symbol next to the warehouse number marks it down as overflow Festival supplies. Supplies for the Vytal Festival weren't likely to start being gathered for a few months yet, which meant it was likely not checked on and that her, partners, foes could have hidden anything. She though she knew the risk she was taking by going in alone..

Hair matted to her forehead by blood and sweat, she is fully aware that the tall, black winged figure sneering down his beak-like nose at her is toying with her after minutes of frantic single combat. She throws herself to the left, barely avoiding a blade of solidified sunset. Idly, she is aware of someone else laughing at her from the far wall near the door. A quick application of her semblance turns the graceless dodge into an adroit roll, which allows her to bring Miló up just in time to block his follow-up strike. She surges up from her kneeling block, throwing the fallen angels blade to her right and away from the top of her head, which buys her enough space to follow up with a shield punch from Akoúo̱, clearing her a modicum of space from the form that had hounded her since entering the dimly lit, dusty and gray painted structure.

The fallen angel flares his wings and arrests his momentum, far closer than she had hoped he would, then charges her again, lazily lashing out with a flourish of flickering blows that she is almost able to keep at bay. Another small, shallow cut to her shoulder joins the many already covering any flesh left exposed by her combat gear. Her aura isn't broken, yet, but the fallen is able to bypass it with some of his strikes. She grunts and presses forward herself, slashing horizontally at the mans midriff. He blocks, she presses him with another shield punch, forcing him a step back, and allowing her to shift Miló into its javelin form to stab at him, but he is able to twist away from the blow, and there isn't a scrap of metal on his body that would give her a chance to hinder his dodge.

He conjures and throws his own javelin of light at her, she is able to dodge, barely, though there is now a cut along her right temple to match the one on her left. The momentary flinch as she spins away from the weapon is all that the fallen needs to get back into striking range, his jian raining down blows on Miló and Akoúo̱ equally as Pyrrha backpedals at an awkward angle, body twisted so she can try to ward off the fallen angels attacks. Someone had left the warehouse a while back, but if she so much as thinks to take her focus off her opposite he lands a hit on her. She allows him to lacerate her left thigh so she can level another shield punch and square her feet back up.

She blocks one of his jabs on Akoúo̱, and levels a powerful slash at the fallen angel, but he raises his left hand, and conjures a glowing barrier to catch her strike with contemptuous ease. Despite her focus being firmly locked on the man standing opposite her and darkening at the edges, she is aware of the doors to the warehouse slamming open. Familiar voices break the silence, and with a clap of thunder, Jaune is standing between her and the fallen angels next strike, Crocea Mors true form holding the blade of light at bay. "I said to be careful, Pyr." he lightly teases before pressing forwards with a snarl.

Jaune flares his magic and launches himself towards the fallen angel. A dark crimson sigil emblazoned proudly on his breast, swirling slashes hinting at a sword made of flame barring a hexagonal gate. He cuts the sigil in half and leaves a furrow on the angels chest after batting his blade aside with his shield. The angel arches an eyebrow at him "You can't be that much better than the girl. What do you hope to accomplish, devil?"

Jaune lets a feral smirk cross his face "Simple, I have an edge over you now, the way your fighting style took hers away. Plus," he lashes out again, forcing the angel to block, and conjure a second blade, the momentary pause giving Jaune an opening to plant a solid kick in his gut and clear the space between them. "I've fought your ilk before. I wont hesitate at the last moment the way a tournament fighter will."

The angels response is to launch himself at Jaune, a rapid flurry of blows keeping the younger devil on his back foot. "That's all well and good, but I still have centuries on you, devil." The fallen angel knocks Crocea Mors to the side, sidesteps and strikes again. The older blade bounces off his aura, then the freshly conjured weapon leaves a gash along the small of his back as the ponytailed fallen spins behind him.

A bronze and crimson missile knocks the fallen angel back, allowing Jaune to turn to face their foe. "A shame for you there's two of us, and one of you then." Pyrrha snarls, lashing out with Miló in spear form and piercing the fallen angels left arm. Before he can recover, Jaune moves at the black haired menaces right side. His slash is blocked on a blade of light, but he is able to smash his shield into the angels head, sending him reeling again.

Jaune and Pyrrha fall into an increasingly familiar synchronization borne of over a months worth of extra team training. This allows Jaune to notice several things. That there is an awful lot of blood on the warehouse floor, with the only wounds on the fallen angel having been left after he arrived. Dove flying through the air, Nora trailing behind him, Magnhild raised for a powerful strike. That Pyrrha is moving far more sluggishly than is normal, even after a long sparring session. Sky desperately trying to get Ren back to a range where his halberd will be useful. And finally that Pyrrha is covered in small, overly bloody cuts.

The blades both flicker, and lightning fast the angel places a deep gash on both Jaune and Pyrrha, both teens guards and auras may as well have not existed. With a roar of anger Jaune counters with a slash of his own. The angel leans back, but his forehead is still opened almost from ear to ear. Pyrrha lunges ahead with another spear thrust, forcing their foe to twist away from them. "Pyrrha, make sure to block his blades after they flicker, he's dispelling the old and summoning new ones. Its how he's bypassing our auras."

Pyrrha nods, and lunges forward in, for her, a sloppy follow up thrust. "We're over-matched Lord Suriel!" Sky bellows in a panic. Moments later he grunts, and flies past Jaunes vision unarmed and not in control of his trajectory at all.

Scowl deepening, Suriel bats Miló from Pyrrhas hand, then delivers a hay-maker to her temple. Her aura shatters. Jaune rushes to his partners aid, but before he can reach striking range, Suriel has Akoúo̱ gripped in both hands. With a sickening pop, Pyrrha is hurled by her shield into the far wall, leaving a deep crater where her back impacts the concrete blocks. The fallen angel takes to the sky, points his left arm towards where Ren and Nora are advancing on Sky and Dove helping each other up. A barrage of sunset colored lances forces Jaunes teammates away from their targets. "I had hoped to reveal this technique when I slew you, vermin. Oh well, it doesn't hurt for you to know your fate early. Thousandfold." At that, he snaps with his outstretched right hand.

For a brief moment, all of the cuts on Pyrrhas dazed form glow the same shade as the fallen angels light weapons. Then crimson is flowing out from all of the cuts far too fast for their size, and the blood on the floor is flying to join it. In a flash there is a bloody cross painting the wall rising from Pyrrhas too still, too pale shoulders. Head lolled to the side, shock and pain clear on her too empty eyes and slack face. Jaune feels something slam into him, then his back impacting the far wall.

By the time his vision clears and head stops ringing the fallen angel and his lackeys are gone, a smoking hole blasted in the wall verry near to where he had been standing. He looks to the other side of the now ruined warehouse, to see Nora kneeling near the crater she had made after being thrown, mumbling rapid-pace and weeping, Ren kneeling beside her with one arm wrapped around her shoulders. All he can see aside from his teammates is that damn bloody cross. Jaune levers himself to his feet and walks over to see what, if anything, is left of Pyrrha.

He has to blink to make sure he isn't hallucinating. The fallen angel hadn't done a thing to Pyrrhas body, aside from the wounds that lead to her death, she is perfectly intact. He cant help himself, and actually starts laughing. "Jaune, what the hell!" Ren shouts, looking more than a little angry as he swivels about to glare at him.

He takes a calming breath, and reaches for the case on his right hip with one hand, holding the other up in a placatory gesture. "Sorry, sorry, I'm just relieved that Suriel didn't do anything to her corpse."

Now Nora looks up to him, anger writ large on her face, despite her puffy, red-rimmed eyes and the tear-tracks running down her cheecks. "Why does that matter? So we can hold an open casket funeral? Shes DEAD Jaune!" Her muscles tense up, and Pyrrhas body shudders with the ginger girls anger.

She had already pulled Pyrrha away from the wall and straightened her out, which will make things easier. Jaune lets a wolfish grin cross his face. "Weren't you paying attention when I explained the basics of devils Saturday night?" The kneeling duo looks at him, faces smoothing over in confusion as he pops the case holding his evil pieces open, and selects the queen. "Mortals can be reincarnated as devils."

Ren blinks, and a breeze clears the last of the smoke from the explosion that had allowed Suriel and his minions to make their escape. "Does, does that mean, that..."

Jaune nods, "One time only." and sets the queen between Pyrrhas clavicles in the hollow of her neck. A magic circle springs to life beneath her, the tarnished silver glow casting the dim warehouse in an eerie pall as he stands, tilts his head back and spreads his arms as wide as he can, palms up. "In the name of Jaune Arc, I call to Pyrrha Nikos, hear my command! Return thy soul from the shadows of death to the human realm. Rise once more as my demon servant! Rejoice for you have been given new life! Wake as my Right Hand and Adviser!" As he intones the last word of the ritual, the evil piece fades into Pyrrha, and she is covered in the same green/brown patina of the magic circle envelops her before it too, fades away.

Shallow, ragged breaths break through her parted lips, and cause Pyrrhas chest to rise and fall while her teammates look her over. "She, doesn't look a whole lot better, Jaune."

He shrugs at that "I can heal her now, and can teleport her back to our dorm with me to avoid anyone asking questions." He looks over to Ren and Nora, who look none the worse for the wear thanks to their auras. "Which I am not looking forward to explaining the methodology of. We all need to get out of here before anyone shows up to ask questions though." At that, he gathers Pyrrha into his arms, and teleports them to their room.

_-*R-DxD*_

Ozpin is a man of carefully maintained and kept secrets. Some of them going no further than himself, others with necessary points of contact, all of them with carefully vetted co-conspirators where any others knowing of them is necessary. That said, when a secret he only shares with one other shifts from self contained to an active problem he is far from happy. He shuts down the security camera feed, whoever had tried to block it had been appallingly amateurish in their methodology, makes a note to recommend to Cardin and Russel that they take an additional computer education course, and keys the academy-wide intercom system. "Professor Port, please report to the headmasters office."

The portly old man, clad in his usual too tight red suit enters his office a few minutes later. "Headmaster Ozpin, you just barely caught me before I went home for the day. How can I help you?"

Taking care to keep his expression placid, Ozpin dryly intones "There's no need for the illusion, Phanuel." The professor glances around, before a swirling heat haze envelops him, and, when it dissipates, where the overweight professor had stood resides a tall, fit man a head taller than Port. His angular face decorated with a neatly trimmed foe-man-chu, shoulder length wavy black hair shot through with dark purple highlights, gold eyes crowned with a thick brow sporting bushy eyebrows the same shade as the rest of the mans hair. An octet of black feathered wings sprout from his back. He looks to be in his late forties or early fifties, and the red suit the illusion had worn is revealed to be expertly tailored and hugs his well muscled form.

"Again, why did you call for me, Ozma?" he repeats, voice the same, but lacking the undercurrent of mirth, before taking a seat in the right-hand chair across from the Headmasters desk. He both moves and speaks as a man who is in the presence of an old friend would.

Ozpin waits for the fallen angel to settle, steeples his fingers on his desk, then asks "When I agreed to allow your people to settle in Vale, you told me you were war weary refugees. Crippled veterans, the old and infirm, or young and fearful. That you had no desire to continue the Three Way War should you find any devils, loyalist angels, or former comrades. That none of those who followed you would train exorcists or propagate the religion of the diety you once served." He pauses, as a look of hurt confusion begins to spread across his old friends face, glad that the emotions seem honest. "Did you lie?"

The pain and confusion are washed away by bluster once the professor gathers his wits. "Of course not! I have spoken nothing but truth to you since finding Remnant and joining your cause." His angry, offended expression likely coming nowhere near to displaying the depths Ozpin had just insulted and offended the other man. Knuckles white as he grips the arms of the chair he sits in "I have been a part of your inner circle fighting back against Salem and her machinations more of your incarnations than not after my people were settled her for Gods sake!"

Ozpin takes a deep breath, careful to maintain his calm, and an active aura, as he continues "Than perhaps you could explain why one of this years freshman teams is lead by an exorcist, perhaps in training, who just lead another team, lead by a young devil, into an ambush prepared by a fallen angel? An ambush during which at least one other student was very nearly killed, if I am accurate in my assesment."

For a few moments all the fallen angel can do is sit, eyes closed, and take deep breathes in through his nose, and out through his mouth. Eventually, he leans forward, voice tight and cold, eyes flashing fire as he opens them, and replies "That is a very serious accusation. I expect you have proof?"

Ozpin nods, ques up the compiled security footage he had prepared before calling his, seemingly, still loyal fallen angel ally, and with a tap a holographic projection springs to life between the two. Miss Nikos walking past Mr. Winchester after a training session in one of the gyms. Her pausing and schooling shock off her face before surreptitiously recording Cardin. The young man clearly ignoring her amateurish attempt at subterfuge. Pyrrha sending a message on her scroll then, tailing him with no more actual stealth than she had recorded him with.

Cardin and Russel leaving the warehouse she tailed the former too shortly after she tired of waiting and followed them in. The recording of the outside security cameras picks up again when the security system inside the warehouse had been cut by the same program that had stymied his investigation of the training exercise that had seen the death of Flora Fae and maiming of Corvis Bowyer.

The security camera feed from the warehouse returns roughly a minute before Mr. Arc and the rest of his team had arrived to aid their stricken friend. Young Pyrrha is clearly over-matched, and being toyed with. While the light jian being wielded by the two winged fallen is of a different shade than those wielded by Phanuel and his refugees, the armament is unmistakable once you know it. Shortly after the rest of team JNPR had arrived on the recording, Phanuel gasps and pauses the recording. "Impossible." he gasps, even as he leans forward and zooms the still-frame in to focus on the left breast of the fallen angel.

After nearly a minute of staring at the crest that now dominates the screen, a blade that seems to be made of flame barring a hexagonal gate from opening, all in a deep crimson over the fallen angels loose fitting charcoal gray kosode and hakama, the sash covering nearly a foot above and below the belt line and undershirt in the same deep crimson as the sigil on his breast. Phanuel slumps back into the chair he had claimed, his face blank and posture slack.

Ozpin relaxes his aura, and internally heaves a sigh of relief. "I take it you recognize the livery that fallen wore?"

Phanuel nods "I do, but it is one of the forces that was destroyed during the height of the Three Way War."

"How certain are you of that, my friend?" Ozpin asks, producing a pair of mugs, taking a sip of his own hot cocoa before offering the empty one to the other man.

As he rises to walk to the alcove containing Ozpins drink cabinet while the headmaster depresses the button in the arm of his chair to pull back the section of wall hiding it, the fallen angel replies. "Absolutely. I lead the Host deployed to hide the site of their massacre from humans when I still served heaven. If it had not been the height of one of the bloodiest months of the Third Crusade the task would have been impossible." He looks over the assorted machines and bottles before pouring a measure of scotch into his mug, then filling it with coffee. "Lord Dummah and his Myriad of Destruction did not go quietly."

Ozpin waits for his friend to reclaim his seat, before he speaks again, footfalls and the ticking of clockwork the only sounds in the room until he does. "Then, you see the livery on a live, fallen, angel on a recording that is not even three hours old."

Phanuel nods "I suppose this would be treachery more towards that of the Morningstar rather than that of those who joined with Azazel during the Three Way War." he scoffs "They were one of the most respected Hosts in Heaven, before their apparent destruction. Ten thousand strong at full muster. There were still eight thousand of them when they last deployed with Lord Dummah during the height of the Three Way War, and my force could only account for six thousand of them at the site of the battle." He shakes his head "I suppose it wasn't a force of devils that had already covered their own tracks, but an internal conflict between those loyal to their leader, and those loyal to Heaven."

Ozpin massages his temples "And I was in no place to notice the arrival of two thousand fallen until decades after you arrived. I take it the apparent destruction of this, Dummahs, force, had repercussions?"

Phanuel lets out a mirthless laugh. "Aside from the single largest boost to the ranks of the Grigori of the wars early years? Heaven itself began using scorched earth tactics in their war against the Devils after that loss. Dummah was a dear friend and peer to Governor General Azazel until his assumed demise or capture. Half of my excursion left the site of the battlefield bereft of halo and black winged before our work there was done, Ozma. The only reason it took me nearly a year from that to join the fallen myself was the need to convince my wife and daughter to come with me."

Ozpin takes a deep breath, then asks "Do you wish to contact your former allies with this information then?"

Phanuel shakes his head "The fanaticism of Azazel and Michael are what lead to the death of my family. I still have no desire for any part in their war, and will keep this between you and I to ensure that Remnant does not become the new front to their folly should any of my refugees feel otherwise."

The headmaster takes a sip from his cocoa, and waves his hand towards the window "Then that leaves us with the prospect of two thousand Fallen that are very likely to bring that very same war to our doorstep due to the brashness of a brilliant young devil who seems set on helping the people of his homeworld as best he can." Ozpin pauses, takes another sip, then adds "And I am truly sorry for bringing up the matter of your late family. If you wish to continue this conversation-"

"That old wound is one long healed and scabbed over. The scars have faded near to nothingness during the millennium since I came here." Phanuel cuts him off. "As to their numbers they are likely between three and five thousand now, provided they found a safe haven from the grimm. I would say no more than three and a half thousand, but the fact that their rebellion against Heaven was akin to that of Lucifers, not Azazels they may have a different fertility rate than that of angels, fallen or loyal; and devils."

Ozpin nods, then purses his lips "We at least have a rough figure then. However, it is not healthy to suppress you-"

"I remember a certain King Ozwin the Wise saying much the same as I just did after Salem nearly ended the Kingdom of Vale by sending a young woman bearing a resemblance to one of the four young girls in her heirloom portrait and a silver tongue. The man in it bore a striking resemblance to the royal line, and the woman shared a likeness with all four daughters." Phanuel cuts him off again, before drinking deeply from his mug. "That said, the fact that we have seen no sign of any other supernatural forces at play on Remnant, the situation seems..."

The room again descends to near silence, which holds for almost ten minutes, before Ozpin finally speaks. "Contact your people, do a proper search for other fallen, or whatever Dummahs forces may have become after rebelling against the Throne of Heaven. I will continue to observe and manage developments involving Mr. Arc and Mr. Winchester."

A/N: Well, there's a few big pieces of how things all fit together finally laid out plainly. The rest of that story will be towards the front of Februarys (hopefully first) chapter. I've been pretty good about keeping up writing a thousand words a day for the last week and a half, but arent gonna make any promises until I know I can keep them. I wanted to do more with the fight towards the end, but much more than the frantic skirmish I ended up with would have damaged the larger flow of the story. Plus, the expository conversations had to take precedence. Peerage III - Horror will hit a lot harder, trust me.

Love it, hate it, have the most persistent and painful runny nose you can remember and are worried you might be the next patient zero? Drop a review! That shits my rocket fuel!