Enjoy.


Whitaker waved the room key in front of the scanner and popped open the door. He cradled several paper plates full of food in his arms, and gently shut the door behind him with his foot. The hotel that he and Pyrrha were staying at had free breakfast, and Whitaker planned to make full use of the service.

Pyrrha wasn't an early riser— and in fact, she'd slept so soundly last night that Whitaker could hardly hear her move or adjust herself at all.

Then again, Whitaker probably woke up at an ungodly hour for most of Beacon's students. 5:30 wasn't that early. At least this time around he'd actually managed to sleep at a reasonable time, thanks mostly in part to Iris' exercises. Much to his surprise, the meditation had actually helped a lot. He still experienced flashes of anxiousness, and struggled to be completely alone; but according to Iris, those were things that his brain would learn to overcome as time went on.

Whitaker set breakfast on the table, and walked over to Pyrrha's side of the bed. The redhead was sleeping calmly. Her mouth hung open as a bit of drool dribbled down her chin— and her hair, usually kept in a completely neat and tidy ponytail, was an utter mess. It was frizzled, covered in cowlicks, and tangled in nearly every which way.

He wasn't even sure how it had gotten so messy. Pyrrha hadn't moved an inch while she slept. The mystery of women's hair. Whitaker gently shook Pyrrha awake.

She stirred slightly, before she pried open one eye. "Oh. Morning, Witt." Then, Pyrrha froze. "Whitaker?!" She immediately sat up and pressed her back against the headboard, desperately pulling the covers around her entire body. "Wh— what are you doing in my… room…" Pyrrha slowly remembered where they were, and she subsequently dropped her head in apology. "Sorry."

"It's fine," Witt replied. "I got us some breakfast from downstairs. Feel free to eat it whenever you're ready. I'm gonna shower."

Pyrrha yawned, nodded, and raised her arms up for a stretch. She stood up from the bed, making her way over to the table while Whitaker gathered up a set of outdoor clothes to change into after his shower.

"Oh, before you get in the shower," Pyrrha murmured. "I want to apologize in advance if there's still some of my hair in there. It falls out easily when it gets wet, so…"

Whitaker nodded. "Thanks for the head's up."

"Mmh." She sat down at the table and began to munch on her breakfast.

With a small smile, Whitaker stepped into the shower.

[;]

Whitaker and Pyrrha walked beside one another through the streets of Vale— their weapons collapsed and sheathed at their sides so as not to draw too much attention from the civilians.

"Where do we start?" Pyrrha asked.

"There was a bookstore that Blake visited the other day called Tukson's. We could start there, considering that she was allowed inside," Whitaker said. It was a weak trail at best, but it was the best lead they had.

"That sounds viable." Pyrrha opened up her Scroll and typed the name of the bookstore into the search bar. "282, 27th Street," Pyrrha read from her Scroll.

"Great." And the two of them made their way towards the bookstore. On their way towards it, Pyrrha spoke up, bringing her hands behind her back. "So… I hope that I wasn't too disruptive last night."

"You actually slept like a baby," Whitaker said. "Didn't move an inch."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Huh." Pyrrha glanced at the ground. "Everyone on Team JNPR says that I move around a lot in my sleep."

"Maybe you sleep differently with someone next to you?" The words left Whitaker's mouth before he fully understood what they meant. Or what they implied. And what they implied was not at all what he was intending.

"H— huh?" Pyrrha's ears and cheeks reddened. "What are you saying?"

"Well, I mean that having someone close to you when you sleep makes you sleep easier, I guess," Whitaker tried. He wasn't even sure if his logic made sense, but they were the words that he vomited out in the moment.

"Oh… That makes sense." Pyrrha rubbed the back of her neck, her cheeks losing their redness.

Fortunately, they arrived at Tukson's Book Trade before the air that surrounded them grew too awkward. It was a small, quaint store with its name written in gold lettering across the top of the building. Located in the south-western area of Vale, it was to the docks, so it made sense that Blake chose to visit it while Team RWBY were in the area.

Whitaker noticed a "FAUNUS ALLOWED" sign on the bottom left-hand corner of the store's large display windows. Guess this was also part of the reason that Blake chose this store. "Hello," Whitaker announced as he opened the door to the bookstore.

The inside of the bookstore was rustic and cozy— it looked like a winter cabin in the forest, something that Whitaker hadn't seen before in all his years spent in Vale.

"Good morning! Welcome to Tukson's Book Trade. The name's Tukson," called a large, pale man with black, thick and bushy sideburns. He wore a kind, orderly smile as he greeted Whitaker and Pyrrha. "Can I help either of you at all? Or are you just perusing my collection?"

Whitaker approached the counter, while Pyrrha took an interest in one of the books that was kept on display. "A black-haired girl with a black bow came into this store yesterday. She was a member of my team at Beacon, and she's run away. We're looking for her, and this is the last place that I remember her being."

Tukson hummed. "I do remember her."

"Did she come by later that day?"

He shook his head. "She didn't."

Whitaker fought back a sigh. He didn't want to make Tukson feel bad— the man had done his job. "Thank you," he said.

"Will that be all?" Tukson asked.

Whitaker cracked a smile. "I'd feel bad if I walked in here and didn't take a look at some books." He glanced around. The man had a lot of books in his store. "How's your history collection?"

"Extensive. It's in the far left section, closest to the window." Tukson waved a hand in the described direction. "The start of the section will be marked by a tab."

"Thanks," Whitaker replied. He'd been somewhat curious about whether or not the other kingdoms had stories of people like Harros Vesta, or Corinth. What if Vale had their own wielder of Lightbearer? Thanks to his height, he could actually reach the books on the top shelves. He eyed the spines of the books, seeing if anything caught his eye.

Broken Tales: The Accounts of the Faunus.

The Great War and Its Effects.

Unthreaded Unification: An Essay on the Four Kingdoms.

That last title had a possibility. Whitaker pulled the tome from the shelf and just as he was about to begin thumbing through its pages, Pyrrha tapped his shoulder.

"Whitaker, we're supposed to be looking for Blake. Not studying."

"Oh. Right." Whitaker nearly slapped himself in the head for getting distracted. He shut the book and walked it over to the counter. "I'll buy this."

Tukson raised a brow. "Typically, we trade books here. Do you have anything to give me in return for giving you a book from my collection?"

Whitaker paused. "I… Do not have anything on me right now."

Tukson placed a hand on the book that Whitaker requested for. "Then feel free to return to me whenever you do have something. Until then," Tukson raised the book, "I'll hold onto this."

Whitaker understood that was probably the best he was going to get. And Pyrrha was right. They needed to spend their time more efficiently— daylight was a precious resource, and with how their search was going so far, they weren't going to be able to find Blake within three days.

They left Tukson's Book Trade empty-handed on both information and books. Thankfully, they hadn't spent too much time inside. It was only 11 A.M.

"What now?" Pyrrha asked.

"Not sure." Whitaker himself didn't exactly spend much time learning how to track someone down. As in, he'd never had to do it before. He looked back at Tukson's— and he saw the "FAUNUS ALLOWED" sign once again. That gave him an idea. "Let's look for more stores that have that sign," he said to Pyrrha, pointing at the sign.

Pyrrha hummed. "That sounds like a good idea, but… I'm not sure if we're going to have the time to comb through every store in Vale that has that sign."

"Fair enough." Whitaker put a finger on his chin. "Okay, let's start with the stores closest to the docks."

"Any particular reason why?"

"Call it a hunch," Whitaker said with a smile.

[;]

As it turned out, Whitaker's hunches were not always correct. In fact, this was one of the few instances that his hunch couldn't have been more wrong. Both he and Pyrrha spent the better part of six hours walking around Vale, entering every store that explicitly allowed faunus inside and asking for whether or not they'd seen someone that vaguely resembled Blake.

The most they got was a clerk at a grocery store, saying that they saw someone that looked approximately like Blake looking through the fish section. Sure, that confirmed that Blake might have been in that store at that time, but it didn't tell them anything about her whereabouts, or where she could be.

"You mentioned that you were chasing a faunus on the same day that Blake ran away," Pyrrha said as she sat on the bench beside Whitaker. They were taking a much-needed break from their search by eating on a few store-bought sandwiches. "What did he look like?"

"Tan skin, blonde hair, and a monkey tail," Whitaker said. "He's impossible to miss, considering that he walks around with his shirt open and his chest on display."

"Why… why aren't we looking for him instead?" Pyrrha asked.

"I…" Whitaker sighed. The monkey faunus would have been a much easier one to track. His appearance screamed 'LOOK AT ME!' while Blake's was purposely meant to keep herself hidden and one-with-the-crowd. "I have no response to that. I don't even know how something that obvious went over my head."

"We can't be perfect all the time, Whitaker." Pyrrha reached over and gently patted his back. "We're bound to let ourselves down eventually. There's no point in beating yourself up about it."

"Fair enough." It felt like a lifetime ago, but Whitaker could still remember Ruby telling him that in his dream while he was in Atlas. "You know, I don't think I've thanked you for helping me out on this."

"If you have, I've forgotten," Pyrrha said frankly.

"In that case, I'll do it until you don't forget." Whitaker turned to fully face her. He caught her gaze. As much as he tried to fight it, he couldn't keep the emotion out of his voice as he spoke. "Thank you, Pyrrha. Genuinely. From the bottom of my heart. If you weren't here helping me… I don't even want to think of how lost I'd be."

It was a strange thing, to have a heart-to-heart moment like this on a park bench in the middle of Vale, but Whitaker was never one for having good timing. At least when it came to emotions. And showing them.

Pyrrha reached out and placed a hand on Whitaker's shoulder. "I'm more than happy to help you, Whitaker. You're welcome." She grinned. "You don't need to thank me anymore. I think that one will stick around."

As the conversation came to a close, Whitaker was suddenly hyper-aware of all of the eyes that were on them now. As it turned out, having a heart-to-heart in such an open space tended to draw eyes. A few people had their Scrolls out, filming the duo as they seemed to slowly come to realize who Pyrrha was..

"Is that… Pyrrha Nikos?"

"The champion of the Mistral Region Tournament?!"

"Does anyone know who the boy is?"

"No id— Wait, he looks like a Schnee. What is the Invincible Girl doing with a Schnee?"

Whitaker stood up and sighed. He looked to Pyrrha and saw that the girl was frozen on the bench. For all her experience as a figure of some renown, Whitaker expected her reaction to be less impactful— not that it mattered. He reached over and grabbed her hand, dragging her along with him.

The eyes of the crowd followed them but the crowd itself didn't move from their positions, instead simply pointing their Scrolls at the duo of white and red as they disappeared into one of Vale's many alleyways.

Whitaker placed both of his hands on either of Pyrrha's arms. "Pyr. Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I just— I just need a moment," she murmured. With a swipe of her forearm against her forehead and a small sigh, she seemed a little better. "I wasn't expecting to see that many people around the two of us. In Vale, nonetheless." She looked up at him. "Sorry, Whitaker."

He shook his head. "No, don't apologize. I didn't expect to get ambushed like that either, but it's not like it's a problem for me." Whitaker knew what some bad press did, his uncle complained about it rather frequently during family gatherings. When those gatherings happened, they weren't exactly secretive about its occurrence. Press were informed, and the gathering itself was made into a rather large event, despite Esmond's insistence that it be kept a secret. And thanks to the press' involvement, Whitaker was fairly certain that his growth throughout the years was kept very well documented on the CCT.

"Thank you." Pyrrha smiled up at him. After a quick exhale, she straightened out her appearance and tucked a length of her red hair behind her ear. "Alright," she said, her voice renewed and her countenance returned to the normal Pyrrha. "Let's go and find ourselves a pair of faunus."

[;]

"Pyrrha," Whitaker whispered to the girl as they watched the casually walking black-haired cat faunus, who was accompanied by a blonde monkey faunus. She was currently positioned underneath him, their heads peeking out from around the street corner. "I could kiss you right now."

The Invincible Girl's earlier suggestion to search for the blonde faunus instead of Blake led them to a trail of breadcrumbs that mostly consisted of someone recognizing the "loud, blonde faunus and his black-haired girlfriend." In that moment, Whitaker was certain that Pyrrha knew full well how invaluable her input was.

"I'll… pretend that I didn't hear that," Pyrrha quietly replied.

"Sorry," Whitaker said, only half-meaning the apology. He genuinely wasn't joking that he could kiss Pyrrha, just as a show of gratitude, not necessarily a show of affection. Though, Whitaker doubted he would have regretted it being a show of affection either.

"It's okay," Pyrrha said.

They returned to the task at hand, observing Blake and her companion walk up into a cafe, presumably to have something to eat. Whitaker stepped out of their hiding spot and made to follow behind them.

"Whitaker, wait." Pyrrha's hand wrapped around his forearm. "You shouldn't meet her in person yet."

"Why?"

"Because the feelings between you two are still raw, even now. We shouldn't run the risk of losing her again on the off-chance that you lose your temper like you did before," Pyrrha explained smoothly. "And that's not to say that I don't have any faith in you to keep yourself composed, but it would be better to just follow them for now, right?"

"I…" Whitaker sighed. He had to concede the point to Pyrrha. She was right on all accounts. Sure, right now, he could assume that he would be able to keep a calm exterior and present himself evenly to Blake, but, in the moment, his emotions could very well spiral out of control. "Alright. We'll just follow them for now."

Pyrrha smiled. "Thank you for trusting in me."

[;]

From mid-afternoon to just before dusk, Whitaker and Pyrrha spent nearly the entire day following behind Blake and her companion. And much to his surprise, the faunus duo seemed to be waiting for something on the rooftop across from him and Pyrrha. They had a perfect view of a Dust loading area with a large warehouse nearby. In the center of the area was a space large enough to land several Bullheads at once. Whitaker had seen it before. In Verdant.

"They're just… sitting there," Pyrrha observed.

Whitaker turned himself around, leaning his back against a nearby air-conditioning unit to hide from Blake should she turn around. "Probably staking out a Dust shipment." He didn't want to jump to conclusions… but given Blake's previous affiliation with the White Fang—

"Whitaker," Pyrrha interrupted his train of thought. "You better not be thinking that Blake is going to steal that shipment."

"Well, I—"

"She's your friend, Whitaker," Pyrrha stated. "I think she's just waiting to see if the White Fang goes after it."

"And then what?"

"We all put a stop to them."

"You sound fairly confident about that," Whitaker pointed out. Not to say that he wasn't confident either, but… It was still a risky proposition. "We should notify the staff at Beacon."

"Professor Goodwitch?" suggested Pyrrha.

"Professor Goodwitch." Whitaker took out his Scroll. After taking a quick picture of Blake and her friend and sending it to Glynda, he called her. The Scroll rang several times before finally stopping.

"This is Glynda Goodwitch. Please leave a message and I will respond as soon as I am able."

"This is Whitaker. Pyrrha and I have located Blake. We're currently observing Dust loading bay 15. Please arrive as soon as possible— I will send you my location. Thanks." Whitaker cut the call and looked at Pyrrha. "She's probably in class right now. But I left a message."

Before Pyrrha could respond, Whitaker's scroll buzzed a moment later.

Copy. Back-up is en route. Approximate arrival time is 20:00. Expect me.

Whitaker stared at the message. It was currently 19:30. 7:30 P.M. Glynda's speed was impressive, and he was certain that she would be more than enough to manage the situation.

"She'll be here soon," Whitaker added.

"How soon?"

"Thirty minutes."

"Good," Pyrrha said. "That gives us some time to think of a plan."

"Pyr," Whitaker began. "We should approach them now. If we're going to stop this operation, then we should work together on it instead of separately."

Pyrrha eyed him. "Do you think you can manage it?"

He nodded. "Yes," Whitaker affirmed. Any prejudices or apprehension he might have had was wiped away in the face of the putting the citizens of Vale in danger. And from how Blake and her friend were positioned, they seemed interested in making sure that the Dust was protected as well.

"Are you sure?"

"Certain."

Pyrrha nodded once. "Alright. Let's go talk to them."

Whitaker drew in a deep breath before slowly exhaling it. He needed to remain calm. This was bigger than the argument that he and Blake had. And if they failed here and now, Whitaker didn't even want to imagine how many people's lives were at risk. He stood and announced his presence to the duo that were still sitting and waiting.

"Blake!" He called.

The black-haired faunus' neck twisted so quickly that Whitaker thought she sprained it. Her eyes widened as she saw him, and she placed her hand on the rampart of the roof, looking as though she was going to leap off. Fortunately, the blonde beside her grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down.

"That's him right? The Schnee?"

"He…"

"Yeah," Whitaker interjected. He moved towards the duo, Pyrrha at his back. "Good to see you again, Blake," he said with a small smile.

"Good… to see you again," she muttered. "What are you doing here? Are you going to stop us?"

"We're here to help," Pyrrha jumped in. "You guys are trying to find the White Fang, right?"

"Yeah. We are."

"Then we're on the same page," Whitaker said. "I… I want to solve this problem as much as you do. We can talk about what happened after this. Right now, no matter what, this takes priority."

"Well, then we are on the same page." The blonde faunus extended his hand towards Whitaker. "Sun Wukong. Good to meet you. Blake's told me quite a bit about you."

Whitaker accepted the handshake with a grin. "Whitaker Ash. Not Schnee. My mother was a Schnee."

"Was?"

"She ran away from the family, and its responsibilities. But my father chooses to keep in contact with them. As do I."

"Why?"

"Because I choose to. I'm not concerned about my uncle's business choices because I can do nothing about it. Even if I am his family, if his own wife couldn't change anything about it, then I certainly won't be able to."

"That's… a very good answer," Sun said, eyeing Blake.

"I apologize for attempting to capture you the other day," Whitaker said. "I hope you'll forgive me."

"I do." Sun rubbed the back of his head. "I did kinda run away from the police. No hard feelings?"

"None whatsoever," Whitaker affirmed. He genuinely meant it too. Sun kept Blake safe for the last day or so, and that was something that Whitaker owed him for.

"Great. I'm happy that you two made up." Blake crossed her arms and glared at both Sun and Whitaker. "It doesn't change the fact that I don't trust you, Whitaker. How do you expect me to fight alongside someone that I don't trust?"

"You don't need to fight alongside me. I just need you to fight on the same side as me," Whitaker said. He raised a brow in Blake's direction. "So, I'll ask: Are you on the same side, Blake?"

"I don't even know what side you're on."

"Remnant's. Vale's."

Her eyes narrowed. "And yet you do nothing about the SDC's tyranny."

"What do you think I could do, Blake?" Whitaker asked. "Tell Jacques Schnee to change when there was no other person in his life who could convince him otherwise?"

"At least you would have tried, Whitaker!"

He clicked his tongue. "Trying when I knew it would have done nothing… That's absurd."

"Whitaker," Pyrrha scolded. Her hand clamped around his shoulder. "You told me that this wouldn't happen."

He froze, suddenly remembering his words to Pyrrha. And the fact that she was right at his side. "Right. Sorry." Whitaker cleared his throat.

Pyrrha stepped forwards. "Blake, we should put this issue behind us— if only until after we've dealt with the one at hand. Can all of us at least agree on that?"

Blake's face became stone, but she nodded nonetheless. Sun bobbed his head, his tail swishing behind him. Whitaker nodded.

"Okay," Pyrrha said with a smile. She leaned against the ramparts. "Whitaker, do you have a plan?"

Whitaker looked over the rooftops and to the loading bay itself. From how it was structured, it looked no different from the one in Verdant. The Kingdom probably has unified architectures for warehouses. It made sense— it was easy to identify from the sky. This bay, however, was situated right alongside the coast, beside the Sanus Sea. Aside from the building they currently stood on, several other buildings surrounded the industrial district, and most made excellent vantage points to observe the center of the loading area.

"Does anyone have a long-range option?" Whitaker asked.

Pyrrha raised her hand. "I can turn my weapon into a rifle."

Whitaker looked to Sun.

The faunus shook his head. He reached behind his back and pulled out a pair of dark red nunchucks. "These are my weapons. They have shotguns built into them that I can use, that's pretty much it. Not much in the form of long-range."

"That's fine. Pyrrha," Whitaker continued, drawing the girl's attention from the loading area and back to him. "You'll run overwatch on the rooftops. Keep me informed of any other movement that you see, civilian or otherwise. If a fight gets too messy from up here, feel free to join in."

"Why doesn't she just join from the start?" asked Sun.

"Intel," was Whitaker's quick response. "We need to make sure that no one is endangered once the fight starts. If that Dust explodes…" He trailed off. The others already understood the dangers. "Dust is highly explosive. A stray bullet, a wandering fire… By giving Pyrrha a good eye over the battlefield, she'll be able to steer us in the right direction."

"What about me?"

"Infiltration," Whitaker replied with a small nod towards Blake. "Get into the warehouse and make sure that it's empty of civilians. If it's not, tell them to evacuate. Threaten them if you have to. Just make sure that they leave."

"And if it's empty?"

"Then rejoin the fight. But right now, our priority is to make sure that no one gets hurt. Right?" Whitaker tilted his head and smiled.

"Right," Blake muttered.

"What about you and me?" Sun asked.

"You and I try to keep the White Fang from securing any Dust. Don't let them make off with any. Not even a canister."

Sun shot him a thumbs-up. "Sounds like a plan."

"Other than that, we just wait," Whitaker said. "I've informed Glynda about the situation, she should be here in ten minutes."

"Glynda… Goodwitch?" Blake raised a brow.

"Yeah."

The cat faunus let out a sigh. "Why am I not surprised that you're not only on a first-name basis with her, but you also have her contact information?"

Whitaker shrugged. "She has an open-door policy. All teachers at Beacon do, for that matter. I asked her to help me re-learn how to use Lightning."

Now Sun was visibly confused. "Lightning? Is that your Semblance or something?"

"My weapon. My Semblance enhances my… processing speed, I guess."

"I thought it just enhanced your reflexes?" Blake asked. "Was there more to it that you didn't tell us about?"

"There might be." Whitaker shrugged. Not even he had a solid understanding of what his Semblance was. His test in Atlas showed that, as well as his spar with Winter. At present, however, it wasn't like knowing his Semblance would matter.

He couldn't even use it.

He hadn't been able to use it since relinquishing Lightbearer to Headmaster Ozpin.

Whitaker believed that should have worried him. Losing the ability to even use his Semblance should have been some cause for concern, but instead of being worried, Whitaker found himself brimming with excitement. Maybe he was a masochist. No normal Huntsman or Huntress would be overjoyed at the prospect of losing their Semblance.

Then again, Whitaker wasn't exactly normal himself.

It felt like a test. He'd been given a new obstacle to circumvent, a new problem to solve, a challenge to overcome. He welcomed the loss with open arms and a great smile.

Besides, Whitaker was fairly certain the loss of his Semblance wouldn't last forever. And if it did, he would only be stronger for it.

Not like the damn thing works against Grimm anyways, Whitaker thought bitterly.

Pyrrha tapped his shoulder. "Whitaker, Professor Goodwitch is here."

A tall woman with platinum blonde hair and piercing green eyes stood behind all of them. She had her riding crop in her hands and her arms crossed as she looked sternly at Whitaker. "I was under the impression that the situation was an urgent one," Glynda stated.

"And it is," Whitaker said with a smile. "Thank you for coming so quickly, Glynda."

"Not to worry, Whitaker." She stepped forwards to their position overlooking the loading bay. "So, what is the situation?"

"Blake?"

"Wh— why me?"

"You're the one that I followed here." Whitaker turned to her. "I assumed that you were here because you suspected that this loading area would be attacked."

"Well, that's true, but…"

"Miss Belladonna, I would appreciate it if you gave us all of the details quickly and concisely."

"Well, the SDC recently came in and dropped off a shipment of Dust—"

The distant whirring of Bullhead engines immediately silenced the girl and drew everyone's attention to it. It rapidly descended to the center of the loading bay, and its cargo doors opened just as quickly. One by one, faunus wearing the white uniforms and blood-red insignia of the White Fang stepped out of the Bullhead.

"Guess it was them," Sun murmured.

Whitaker stole a glance at Blake. And much to his surprise, she wasn't shocked. At all, infact. "Not surprised?" Whitaker couldn't help but ask.

"I think… deep down I knew it was them," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I just didn't want to be right."

Before Whitaker could reply, one final figure stepped out of the Bullhead.

"Hey! What's the holdup?!" An orange-haired man wearing a black bowler hat along with a well-maintained coat leaned against his deep grey cane. "We're not exactly the most inconspicuous bunch of thieves at the moment, so why don't you pick up the pace?"

"Roman Torchwick," Glynda muttered. She turned back to the rest of her students. "Do you have a plan?"

"We do," Whitaker said. "Pyrrha stays on overwatch to make sure that no civilians are drawn to the conflict, Blake will clear the warehouse of any innocents, while Sun and I deal with the White Fang and try to keep the Dust loss to an absolute minimum."

"Then I shall handle Torchwick." Glynda nodded.

Whitaker glanced at each of them. From Pyrrha and Blake's apprehension, to Sun's excitement, and to Glynda's thinly veiled concern, he smiled slightly. Whitaker himself couldn't deny the fact that he was excited. It wasn't every day that you got to fight alongside one of Beacon's professors.

But beneath that excitement, a layer of unease rose. One that sent subtle shockwaves all throughout Whitaker's entire body. Before it could settle within him, Glynda's voice snapped him back into reality.

"Let's move!"

[;]

Pyrrha's voice crackled in Whitaker's ear as she spoke over the Scroll line. "One White Fang is heading your way."

Whitaker gently placed his hand against the side of one of the Dust shipping crates. He brought up his other hand in a closed fist. Sun was right behind him, and his movements quickly came to a halt.

Good. He understands that.

The sound of boots hitting concrete echoed near them. Whitaker glanced around the corner of the shipping crate. It was a White Fang grunt. He had a sheathed sword at his side, and was— almost frantically— glancing around, searching for something. Whitaker waited until the grunt was about to reach his and Sun's position.

When the grunt did, Whitaker lashed out like a viper with Lightning. The grunt had no Aura. Lightning penetrated his clothes and his flesh like it was air. The stab was clean, and the grunt had no time to let out a noise besides a bloodied gurgle. Whitaker leaned the body against the shipping crate.

"Y— you killed him." Sun's voice was hoarse. Over the breaking of waves against the side of the loading bay, it was barely audible. "He— he's dead."

Whitaker nodded once. "I had to."

"You could have knocked him unconscious—"

He shook his head. "The White Fang would never compromise like that," Whitaker replied. "There's no reason we should do the same for them."

"But… that's…"

"We can argue about it later," Whitaker stated. He returned Lightning to its sheath, and as he straightened himself out to take a step, his body lurched forwards. A wave of nausea roiled throughout his entire body, and his hand clamped over his mouth as a familiar feeling rose up within his throat.

Sorry, Iris.

Whitaker steadied himself against the shipping crate. He glanced back at Sun. The faunus' eyes were avoiding the body, and the crimson liquid that began to pool beneath it.

But try as he might, the scent of death stung the air. It lingered like a plague, and Whitaker knew that the smell alone would cause nightmares for the boy. He turned around and placed a hand on Sun's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Whitaker whispered.

The faunus shook his head. "I… knew that it was inevitable. We're training to become Huntsmen, after all. Death is part of our job. I just didn't expect to experience it so soon."

"As awful as it is to say, it's better that you did. It doesn't get any easier, but you learn to live with it," Whitaker echoed the advice that his father had given him.

"I'll take your word for it," Sun replied.

Whitaker nodded. "Then—"

The conversation was cut short by the sound of several chained explosions that ripped through the silent night. Metal screeched and came to an ear-piercing crash as it ground against concrete. And to Whitaker's horror, burning smoke and screaming followed it.

[;]

The sky burned. The air was filled with the piercing scent burning Dust. The screaming and shouting tore through the air. They sounded almost inhuman, primal, born out of sheer panic. Whitaker realized it then. They weren't screams of anger or exertion. It was horror. Fear. Terror.

"We have to go!" Whitaker tore through the maze of Dust shipping crates.

"Whitaker, wait—" Sun's voice was lost to another set of explosions.

"Pyrrha, what the hell is going on?! I thought Blake cleared the area of civilians."

"It's… it's not civilians, Whitaker," Pyrrha's voice shook as she gave him the report. "It's the White Fang."

"What? What do you mean?"

"They're.. killing themselves. They're unpinning Dust grenades and throwing them into opened shipping crates. It's a massacre, Whitaker. It's like they've gone wild."

Why? Whitaker forced the question out of his mind. His curiosities would be answered later. "Have you spotted Blake?"

"She notified me that she'd cleared out the warehouses before the explosions." There was the sound of shuffling, and then metal shifting. "I'm going to join the fight."

"Alright." Whitaker rounded a corner. "Pyrrha, if you can, try and use your Semblance to seal the shipping crates."

"And the White Fang?"

Whitaker froze. He grit his teeth as he forced out the answer. "Save them if you can. You make the judgement call, Pyrrha. Find Blake and work together to make sure that no one else gets hurt."

"Got it." And the call clicked silent.

As much as he hated the White Fang, as much as he wanted to see them get their due recompense, the sounds… Whitaker's hands closed over his ears. The sounds of their screaming sent reality crashing back down onto him.

They weren't faceless goons. They weren't emotionless husks. They were real people. They had friends, family. It wouldn't have surprised Whitaker if some of them had children of their own. They experienced anger— at the injustice they'd received from humans; they experienced fear— for the safety of their livelihoods should they choose to fight against the injustice; and they experienced terror, true and absolute terror.

He was hearing it now. Whitaker heard it in their screams and screeches and shouts and cries and clamors and howls and squeals.

"Whitaker," Sun's voice brought him back to the present, as did the hand on his shoulder. "We need to move."

Whitaker found his resolve. Cobalt eyes burned. "Right."

[;]

Whitaker snapped Lightning into position, lashing out with a slash towards Roman Torchwick. With an impressive reaction speed of his own, the thief barely dodged the strike— his bowler cap taking the blow for him.

Roman's orange hair fluttered in the searing wind as he narrowed his eyes at Whitaker. "Another one?" He stood between Glynda and Whitaker, his cane at his side. "And here I thought it was just going to be you and me, Miss Goodwitch."

Glynda didn't dignify him with a response. Instead, she waved her riding crop, her emerald eyes flashing with purple as her Semblance activated. The earth beneath her feet came apart, cracking and separating into bullet-sized fragments— with another wave of her crop, they sped towards Roman.

The thief dove out of the way, and the fragments, like angry missiles, changed trajectory and began to fly towards him once again. "Oh, come on!" Roman groaned as he sprinted towards the shipping crates.

"I won't be able to follow him in there," Glynda told Whitaker. "I'll make sure that these Bullheads are grounded. Deal with him, Whitaker."

"Right."

Need to put the pressure on. Whitaker placed Lightning back into its sheath and chased after Roman. Just need to buy enough time for Pyrrha and Blake to finish with the White Fang.

Whitaker was back in the maze of shipping crates. He kept one hand right above Lightning's hilt as he ran between the crates. As he approached a crossroads, the end of Roman's cane came crashing down towards him from around the corner.

"Stupid kid!"

Whitaker thrust his hands forward, reaching for Roman instead of the cane itself. They fell to the ground in a blur of orange and white. Just as Whitaker mounted Roman, the thief kicked him off, his bottom of his boot slamming against Whitaker's cheek and knocking him back.

They stood opposite one another. Whitaker unsheathed Lightning, his hands trembling around the hilt. A shadow crawled up from just behind Roman. One that Whitaker recognized.

"Someone's a little nervous," Roman taunted. "Got the shakes?"

"You could say that. Maybe I've got stage fright." Whitaker pointed the end of Lightning towards Roman. "Face it. You're not getting out of here, Roman. Your Bullheads are grounded. Your grunts are dealt with. And the Dust you're trying to steal has been secured. Surrender. There's no need to die."

Roman, despite the seriousness with which Whitaker spoke, only laughed in his face. "You seriously think that you could kill me? Kid, I've got years of experience beating down professional Huntsmen. And if you think that one still in school is gonna kick my ass, then—"

The pommel of Gambol Shroud slammed into Roman's temple, instantly knocking the thief unconscious. He fell to the concrete, his face impacting it with a wet thwap. Drool began to dribble out from his open mouth.

Blake stood over Roman, her amber eyes glaring at the thief. Then, her eyes flicked over to Whitaker. "How should we secure him, sir— Whitaker?"

"Industrial wire should be enough." Whitaker sheathed Lightning once again and walked over to stand beside Blake. Together, the two of them began to bind Roman's hands and legs together. "Where's Pyrrha?"

"Helping Professor Goodwitch make sure that the Bullheads stay on the ground. Her Semblance is polarity, apparently," Blake said. "And Sun?"

"I… actually don't know," Whitaker said. "Last I saw him, he was heading towards the other warehouses. Something about making sure that no other White Fang were in the area."

She smiled. "Good."

With Torchwick secured, Whitaker walked back to the Glynda and Pyrrha with Blake. He carried the unconscious thief over his shoulder and set him down before Glynda. "So, that was more successful than I'd imagined it would be."

"I agree." Glynda glanced down at Torchwick, then back to Whitaker. "Not a single Bullhead escaped. All of the Dust within them is grounded, and will soon be returned to the appropriate areas. The VPD are working to secure the other loading areas."

"And the White Fang?"

"Dealt with," Pyrrha said. "Those that survived, Blake and I knocked unconscious and detained. They should be waking up shortly."

"What happened to those that didn't survive?" Whitaker asked. As dark as it was, Whitaker hadn't seen a single White Fang body on the ground, aside from the one that he'd created earlier.

"I…" Pyrrha trailed off.

"We couldn't find any," Blake answered for her.

"What do you mean?"

"There were no bodies."

"That's.. impossible. Even with explosives, there should be a body remaining."

"There weren't any."

A harrowing feeling poured through Whitaker. "Where… where are the rest of the White Fang?"

Blake pointed to the grey vehicles. "On the Bullheads."

Dread filled Whitaker.

No…

The distinct, piercing smell of burning Dust began to fill the air.

"Run!" Whitaker cried.

Glynda and Pyrrha were the first to react, they jumped back from the Bullheads.

An eternity passed in a moment. Lightning surged through Whitaker's veins as he watched Blake stand in front of the cluster of Bullheads.

The smell grew stronger still.

Blake wasn't moving. She stood stock still, locked to the ground.

The smell was nauseating now.

Whitaker grabbed Blake by her shoulders.

He pulled her right against his chest and forced her to the ground, using his body to shield her.

A chain of ear-shattering explosions ruptured the sky.

There was an intense wave of heat.

And then,

Nothing.


Oops? I guess this story's over...

Anyways, I hope that everyone enjoyed this chapter. Please leave a review if you did. They're really awesome.

Eeveeobsesser - Sorry to hear that! I hope that the change in the ship didn't tear you away from this story.

Resurrection99 - Sorry .! I'm also a fan of Blake/OC, and I think it also would have been a viable option. Thanks for reviewing!

merendinoemiliano - So, this isn't much of a "battle," since I wanted to focus a lot more on the emotions and the characters. But I promise that a real fight will happen soon!

Allheaven Paragon - Honestly, I struggled a lot with whether or not Whitaker should be the leader of Team RWBY. And I'm glad that you have such a strong opinion on it. Personally, I think that the "leader" position in these teams are quite pointless. Everyone is the same age and at the same level of experience, generally. If anything, leaders should be decided in second year, not first year. Thanks for reviewing!

Next Chapter: 5/5/21