"Are you alright?"

The sound of Cinnamon's voice snapped Sun back to attention from a dangerous state of fugue that he wasn't even aware he had entered. Both the stench of blood and the sight of mangled corpses as they made their way deeper into the apartment complex had caused hot vomit to bubble up into his throat more than once. His mind was blank as he climbed the staircase behind Cinnamon, though he knew he was supposed to be focusing on Watts and Scarlet. Sun really thought he could handle it- that it would be just another mission, another routine assignment from which he would come home victorious after having saved the day.

He was no longer certain that such a thing was true.

Seeing so much death and devastation in such a small space conjured unwelcome thoughts, and the reality of the coming war clawed its way to the forefront of Sun's mind in a way that he had never experienced before. Any of those corpses could have been Emerald had she elected to remain behind- a proposition that Sun wasn't sure how he felt about. He was unable to chase away the notion that such a fate could already have befallen Blake, depending on where she was at the moment. It could have even been him, had he come to the apartment building alone after receiving any other lead.

"I…" Sun croaked out, suddenly aware that his breathing was elevated. "I-I…"

"Get your head in the game," Cinnamon ordered as she jogged through a door at the top of a flight of stairs and into the hallway. "We don't have t-"

The sound of whirring followed by an immediate hail of gunfire cut off Cinnamon's words, and the woman just barely managed to duck back into the stairwell before dust and a rain of plaster flew past the doorway. Mere seconds later, the hidden gun spun down once again, leaving nothing but the smell of smoke and the tinkling of falling shells to signal that it was lying in wait somewhere down the hall.

"What was that?" Sun asked as she ran up to his companion, whose breathing matched his own frantic pace.

"Automated turret," Cinnamon answered breathlessly. "Watts' doing, no doubt. Our former room lies just beyond it. Time to shine, Sun. Draw its fire and buy me a few seconds."

Sun watched as Cinnamon swapped out the bolt in her arm-mounted crossbow for a bulkier model and nodded in understanding.

"Make the shot count. If that thing chews through my semblance, I won't be able to call it out again for a bit."

"Understood," Cinnamon answered as she pressed her back to the wall adjacent to the doorframe. "Get it done."

Sun closed his eyes and crashed his hands together, orienting his guns vertically against each other. A golden glow manifested between his palms as a duplicate of himself sprang forth from within his palms and rapidly grew to match his proportions. The glittering clone immediately bounded forward into the hallway as Sun opened his eyes, and the automated gun spun up once again. A few seconds later, a torrent of gunfire screamed down the hallway once again and Sun focused on drawing the bullets as far from the door as possible with his clone.

Cinnamon took a deep breath and swung out into the hall, aiming for the cobbled-together turret at the far end with her crossbow. Just as Sun's clone withered into wisps from the hail of lead, she loosed a bolt from her arm. The projectile careened down the hall with great speed, spinning and traveling in an almost perfectly straight line. Upon impacting the turret, the enlarged head of the bolt exploded, destroying the turret entirely and setting fire to the carpeting and the wall behind the mounted gun. The building shook and bits of debris fell from the ceiling as Sun rushed forward while socketing a pair of blue crystals into his guns.

"I got it!"

The faunus leapt out into the hall, taking aim before letting a flurry of dust-infused bullets crash into the walls and ceiling. Large bursts of water exploded forth from the impacts, smothering the flames and drenching the hallway before the fires could spread.

"Good thinking," Cinnamon praised as she entered the hallway with her back to Sun. The woman placed several queued bolts into her crossbow and pulled back the arms of the weapon to prime it. "This end's clear. Lead the way, third door on the left."

Sun began a slow advance, reloading one gun at a time as he went. As he got closer and closer to the designated room, a sudden musky, rotten smell reached his nose. It was one with which he had become incredibly familiar- grimm. Upon reaching the door, he glanced over his shoulder to find Cinnamon lagging behind him as she kept her crossbow aimed down the hall. A single thought tugged at the back of his mind as he took a step back and prepared himself.

What if he was being led into a trap?

"Got the key?" Sun asked.

Another clone leapt from Sun's body to catch the keycard that Cinnamon tossed to him.

"Can you summon that thing while moving?" Cinnamon asked.

"Not… really," Sun admitted sheepishly. "I've been working on that, but I can't really manage more than a step or two without breaking my hold on it. I need to figure it out…"

"You really do," Cinnamon agreed as she backed closer and closer to him. "Here's hoping the door isn't rigged to explode."

"…yeah, great, thanks for putting that thought out there," Sun said sarcastically. "Here goes everything…"

Sun's semblance approached the door and swiped the card before kicking open the heavy portal. The stink of blood was immediate and overpowering. It was enough to make Sun finally clap a hand to cover his mouth and nose as his clone fizzled out. The door had stopped opening halfway through the process, knocking against the boot of a corpse that looked quite fresh.

"…take five," Cinnamon suggested as she stepped past Sun and over the body. Her combat boot squelched into a pool of blood, and she very nearly slipped while going for her scroll. "Shit…"

"Careful," Sun said, his voice muffled through his fingers. "I think I'm gonna puke…"

"Well, there's a bathroom in here," Cinnamon said lightly. "Come inside."

Sun took a deep breath and followed her inside, taking care to step over the corpse. Slowly, he lowered his hand, though he held his breath as best he could.

"…he's got an I.D. on his vest," Sun observed as the light from Cinnamon's scroll swept the room. "Maybe the manager?"

"If they're the manager, then Watts definitely isn't here," Cinnamon pointed out as she turned to aim into an adjacent room. "Leaving a keycard behind isn't his style. This was random slaughter without an objective. I doubt it was even him."

"…Scarlet," Sun spat as he fumbled his way toward the bathroom. He set his guns down on the countertop next to the sink and braced his hands on either side of the porcelain basin while trying to just focus on breathing. "I don't want to believe he'd do something like this…"

As if to answer, the reverberating roar of a large grimm echoed down the hallway outside of the open door. Cinnamon turned and met Sun's eyes through the darkness.

"No one's in here, and I don't see anything of value left. Even our dust stash is gone. We need to get out of here."

"We need to… sweep the building and evacuate any civilians…" Sun said between breaths as heavy footsteps began to move down the hall outside. "I'll be alright… we can't leave that thing here."

"Remember that my semblance is useless against grimm," Cinnamon pointed out as she aimed at the doorway. "And we're about to be fighting in a tight space. This isn't a good idea, Sun…"

"Yeah, well… I don't have many," Sun replied as she leaned away from the sink and grabbed his firearms. "If you want to run, then run, but I'm not just going to let this massacre keep going."

"Damn it…" Cinnamon cursed as Sun walked past her and toward the door.

"You want to switch sides? It isn't going to be easy," Sun said as he slid out into the hall and lifted his guns. "You…"

Scarlet David stood a mere twenty feet away, his hand resting on the side of a massive canine grimm whose frame occupied the majority of the hallway.

"…actually, I found it quite easy, with proper motivation…"

Elm was out of the transport craft before it had even landed, touching down heavily in the snow as she landed from nearly ten feet up. Hope had already arrived on the ground before her, and Jaune elected to wait for the vessel to touch down before stepping out of it. Hope and Elm had already mobilized by the time he began to walk. Neither he nor his more experienced ally had said anything during the ride, but Jaune felt the need to speak up as he jogged to reach Elm's side.

"…you okay?"

"What?" Elm asked as she gave the boy a quick glance over her shoulder before going back to focusing on the path ahead.

"There's a lot going on, a-"

"We've been over this," Elm reminded. "My feelings on things don't matter."

Jaune let out a sigh, drawing his sword as Elm unslung her hammer.

"…I thought the point of that conversation was to point out that they do ma-"

"We have orders," Elm snapped. "This discussion can wait, likely until after the coming war."

"…fine," Jaune relented. "But I don't agree. If your thoughts are preoccupied with everything going on, you won't be at your best. I'm just… looking out for you. As a friend, and an ally."

Elm exhaled heavily from her nose, but said nothing as she continued to follow Hope through the dimly-lit buildings of Rust.

"Briefcase located," Hope said mechanically as she made a sudden movement to change course. "Please, maintain a safe distance while I procure the payload."

"Be ready for anything," Elm said to Jaune as she fanned out to Hope's left. "There's no guarantee that this is legitimate."

"Maybe not, but I'd like to think we just caught a big break," Jaune replied as he moved to the right.

"We'll see," Elm answered as she took a knee and converted her hammer into its launcher configuration. "Still… optimism hasn't gotten us far."

Jaune traced the trajectory of the weapon, only to find exactly what he had feared- it was aimed directly at Hope's back.

"What are you doing?" Jaune asked. "There's no reason for that!"

"Not yet, there isn't," Elm agreed. "But I'd rather be ready."

"Remain clear," Hope said loudly as she entered the derelict home. "I will remain in the doorway while opening the package."

"Be safe!" Jaune called.

Elm sighed and closed her eyes for a moment.

"…why do you care so much about everyone around you?"

Jaune stiffened as he adjusted his grip upon the hilt of Crocea Mors.

"…that's a discussion we can have later. After the war."

Elm couldn't help but smirk as she watched Hope emerge from the home, briefcase in hand.

"Breaching," the android announced as she turned to face away from her companions and opened the case.

Elm looked down the scope of her weapon as the briefcase unfolded, revealing an arrangement of technical components and a small monitor within.

"…any ideas?" Jaune asked.

"Whatever it is, it has an interface," Elm observed. "Looks like some sort of portable terminal. I wouldn't be surprised if it can attach to a tower and hack it directly."

"Jaune Arc."

Jaune stiffened as Hope called his name, unsure what was about to happen.

"…yeah?"

"Please contact Dr. Polendina," Hope requested as she kept her attention upon the briefcase. "He gave me instructions to have someone alert him before I attempt anything of this nature. I plan to connect directly to the device to ascertain what it can do."

"On it," Jaune replied as he took out his scroll.

"Not a bad idea," Elm agreed as she, too, drew her scroll from her pocket. "Connect me to the call as well."

"Dialing," Jaune replied.

"Connecting with the device," Hope announced as a thick cable snaked from her wrist and toward a port within the briefcase. "Connected."

The monitor of the device flickered on immediately, revealing the face of Arthur Watts against a backdrop of darkened stone. Though his smirk was barely visible beneath his mustache, even Jaune and Elm could see the glint in his eyes from their positions.

"Good evening, Hope Polendina" the man began. "Let's get started, shall we?"

Author's Note:

Expect some big reveals coming soon… and not just in the context of who is and isn't being completely honest. We're rapidly approaching some big shifts in Mantle and Atlas, along with a war.

A real war.

One that doesn't resolve in 5 episodes and then have Salem being swept aside immediately.

No, I'm not bitter at all, why do you ask?

-RD