The White Fang campgrounds were eerily silent that morning. The occasional noise of wind filtering through the trees and infrequent, hushed whispers among the tents were the only thing that filled the area otherwise devoid of noise. A few masked men and women sat around on tree stumps, looking worriedly at each other as they awaited the inevitable opening of the tent flaps of their commander. For hours, no such rustling came.
Adam Taurus stood in equal silence, staring over a spread of files set out upon the table before him. Open folders marked 'CLASSIFIED' in thick red ink lay strewn about, discarded onto the ground and surface of the desk without care for their supposed classification. All that mattered to the pensive bull was the contents within the folders- not which humans were allowed to see them. In his mind, the idea of anything being classified among the inferior species was laughable. The majority of their crimes were already laid bare- their problems weren't a matter of secrecy, but apathy.
The faunus were used as little more than mindless dust mining machines, and if one, or two, or more were to perish going after a particularly rich vein, the public was more than willing to turn a blind eye. Adam knew it to be true from firsthand experience- he had personally watched comrades, friends, and even family disappear under a torrent of rock as their pickaxes struck at a structurally unsafe point. A point that he himself had begged them not to mine, only to receive a thorough lashing across the back with a whip from a human male.
The tall, bearded man had worn a white suit emblazoned with 'SDC' and a snowflake emblem across the lapel- the signature of a higher-up in the chain of command. The kind of man that would stand outside of the mine and bark orders while pointing angrily at a crudely-drawn map of the known tunnels, before sending Adam and his brethren down into the cramped spaces to their eventual deaths.
When the order that had cost him so much had been given, Adam vowed to turn that white suit into a shade of dark crimson before he left the mine. He had made good on his promise, and the rush of adrenaline as he watched the man's stomach open as he laid pleading upon the ground was one of his fondest memories. That memory came with an important lesson, and a proof of concept in Adam's mind.
Begging hadn't prevented that cave-in, when it came from him. Begging hadn't saved that man from the blood-red blade that ripped across his belly in furious retaliation.
Adam was done with begging.
He stood quietly over the desk, processing the information he had gleaned about the layout of Haven Academy from the documents that his employers had provided. Key information was missing, and Adam found himself unsurprised. He hated them, all of them- from his employers, to the inevitable victims of his budding plan, to his most loathed and final target among humans- the Schnee family. Nothing had gone as it should have, not even preparations to strike the heart of Haven itself.
Adam narrowed his eyes as he stared down through his mask at a red envelope bearing no name, address, or markings. Perhaps the answers he needed were within.
He hesitated momentarily, and let his hand drift down to the sword strapped to his hip. If all that awaited him was another disappointment, he knew that he would fly into a rage. How many times had he asked for more detail? How many requests would it take before he was given the order to strike at a human landmark and ignite the flames of revolution in Mistral? Adam felt that he had been kept at bay and held back for far too long after the fall of Beacon, and his patience had been shaved down to a razor thin line.
With a frown, he placed his thumb behind the guard of his sword and popped it forward, partially out of its sheath. Adam took a deep breath through his nostrils, before using his pointer finger to slide the blade back inside with a satisfying click. The nervous habit had become something of a comfort, or more realistically, a last effort to quell his anger to the spiteful faunus, and all in the encampment knew to steer clear of him when the signature clicking began. He popped the sword, listening to the steel scraping against the inside of the sheath again, before clicking it back into place.
The pattern repeated over and over as Adam felt his rage building. He knew what he was going to find within that envelope, and it wasn't at all what he wanted.
Scrape. Click. Scrape. Click. Scrape. Click.
It was the only thing he could think to do to stave off an outburst for a few precious seconds. Once upon a time, there had been a faunus girl who had managed to calm him, on occasion, but she was long gone.
Adam found that turning a mostly black outfit to red was proving far more difficult than what he had done to that white suit. In time, though, every scrap of cloth, every strip of flesh, and those piercing, yellow eyes would drown in scarlet for what she had done to him. He would make certain of it.
Scrape. Click. Scrape. Click. Scrape. Click.
Adam heaved one final breath before using his left hand to pick up the matte envelope and bring it to eye level. He paused his calming ritual to raise the other and grasp the back of the folded paper and slit the wax seal, before letting it flutter unsatisfyingly to the floor. Adam grit his teeth as he began to read the same sentence that he had seen time and time again after requesting an update, scrawled once again in the neat, looping script of the woman he despised almost more than any other.
"Your orders remain the same at present- keep your men at the ready until the Queen wills otherwise.
-C."
Adam let out a guttural, drawn-out cry of fury as he dropped the letter from his grip and immediately transferred his right hand to the hilt of his waiting sword. With a single slash, the desk became two, and an echoing crash rang out as splintered wood, fluttering papers, and the sound of ragged, furious breathing brought the inside of the tent to life. Adam whirled in place with another cry and drew his katana across the surface of the painted map of Remnant hanging upon the wall of the tent behind him, leaving a long, jagged slash across the entirety of Mistral.
The papers finally submitted to the will of gravity and settled upon the dirt floor, and the only sound that remained after the momentary crescendo was labored breathing.
Adam remained in stance, katana flared dramatically out to his side as he closed his eyes amid shuddering breaths. He waited, knowing that what he wanted would never come. Not so long ago, the tent flaps would have rustled, and her voice would have reached him through the blinding curtain of rage that clouded his shuttered vision.
"Adam? Adam! What happened?"
He could feel her hands snaking around his torso and finding their home upon his chest as her own pressed against his heaving back.
"Talk to me. What happened? Why are you upset? We can get through this, together."
He needed her. Revolution, revenge, even his eventual place atop the throne of all of Remnant as a harsh and fanatical dictator would mean nothing, if she was not there to understand him. To help him understand himself.
Her hands would trace along his upper chest, before snaking down around his waist as her chin came up to rest upon his shoulder. The deep, husky scent of her perfume would lazily trail its way up to his nostrils, and he would begin to calm once again.
"I'm not judging you. I know this isn't easy, and things keep getting in your way. Come on. Lay with me."
But it was not meant to be. There would be no rustling of tent flaps, gentle, hesitant touches, or reassuring words. Never again would she lay beside him, cuddling into his chest and pressing softly against his skin in an effort to calm him down with her icy embrace. All that was left to him was his blade, and his vision of the future. Adam's upper lip twitched as he opened his eyes and admitted to himself the truth that he thought he had accepted time and time again.
He returned the blade to its waiting sheath with another click and turned to survey the damage. Another desk would be needed. One of his subjects would provide, and all he needed to force the acquisition was to loom in the entrance of the tent of some unlucky faunus. They would fall over themselves to please him, and offer up what they had for their leader. Whether out of fear or respect, it hardly mattered anymore. To Adam, the ideal option was both.
With a scowl, he stooped briefly to grab for a sheet of unmarked paper before he made his way out of the tent and into the clearing of the White Fang encampment. Several masked figures were frozen in place, staring in his direction as they wondered just what the noises from within his tent could have been.
Let them wonder, he thought to himself. Let them fear me.
Adam narrowed his eyes as he scanned the line of tents that made up his base of operations, and settled upon a shelter of dark green canvas. He set out at a brisk pace, walking with purpose as he made his way to the unlucky target. It was time for a new sort of letter, with a tone far removed from those he had written in the past.
Adam was done with begging.
Sun stared down at his Scroll, watching with a tingly feeling of anticipation as he waited on the staircase just outside the doorstep of the Belladonna manor, a half-eaten strip of bacon hanging from his mouth. Over and over, he reread what he had sent before pulling the rest of the meat into his mouth and beginning to chew.
"Hey Blake- your mom and I are headed out to take care of the shopping, so you can stay with your dad. I think she's got a pretty good idea of what we need, and we can handle the lien to cover it together later. Lemme know if you want anything specific picked up. I'll keep an eye out for tuna."
The message ended with a small icon of his own face sticking its tongue out. Sun had debated back and forth whether or not to include the little flair, and eventually reasoned that it just wouldn't be him if it had been excluded. Everything he had done for her had been a leap of faith for her sake. Why shouldn't he start taking a few for himself?
The three dots that indicated an incoming response finally relented, and Sun felt his breathing stop as the message came through. All that he received in response to the message that he had checked and obsessed over again and again as he rushed through breakfast was a black heart, topped with cat ears.
It was more than enough.
Sun's cheeks felt hot as a wide, stupid grin took up residence firmly upon his features. He couldn't bring himself to close the message as he heard footsteps from behind, and even with Kali's voice interrupting his thoughts, the euphoric feeling of pins and needles remained in his face and chest.
"…my gods, you've broken her walls to the point of little heart texts. I never thought I'd see the day."
The older woman leaned over Sun's shoulder, snooping into the conversation while perched upon the step above his own. Though he didn't know just why, Sun found no need to tell her off or close the conversation. Even with his embarrassment at being caught, nothing could rob him of the feeling of warmth in his heart.
"This is the first one, actually. I'm just glad that she seems happy in general, for the first time since we've met." Sun turned his head to try to face her, before settling on going down another step and turning to look her over fully. Kali carried a large basket at hip height, with a long leather strap looped up and around her opposite shoulder. "Here, let me take that, Mrs. B. Just point, and I'll scoop up whatever we need." Sun snapped his scroll closed and stored it in the back left pocket of his shorts. He waited with outstretched arms, but Kali didn't move.
"It's quite fine. Again- call me Kali. I can handle some groceries. You're just here to keep me entertained, really," she added with a sly smirk.
"Right, sorry. Uh… Kali. That's gonna be a little hard to get used to." Sun dropped his arms down to his sides. "Are we good to go?"
Kali descended the steps with a slow, purposeful gait and joined Sun's side, smirk intact. "Absolutely. Now, why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself, and Blake's team?"
Sun fell into step at Kali's side as she set out and slid his hands into his pockets as he walked, thinking of how to answer. The figure that had been watching them from its perch in a nearby tree launched itself from the straining branch and landed with a roll into a patch of tall grass. With muted footsteps, they narrowed their eyes and moved to follow.
Author's Note: I am of the opinion that Adam is by far the most mismanaged character in the entire show, and absolutely full of wasted potential. Everything about Adam is insanely cool, but he, himself, is not. I'll be writing a multi-chapter story in which Adam plays a larger role sometime in the future, likely once this has ended, but he will be playing a role in this story as well. As far as a certain set of bombshell spoilers regarding him go, I will not be mentioning them at all in this story until it reaches a certain scene that is quite far away. I'll drop a warning for Volume 6 spoilers in the author's note of the chapter before the one in which they are mentioned.
-RD