Arthur Watts sat on his idle snowmobile a good distance away from Amity Coliseum in the mid-morning light. The man was bundled up in layers upon layers to help protect from the biting cold of Solitas, and he wore a black beanie over his freshly shaven head to make up for the lack of hair. Behind him, patches of Mantle were beginning to burn as grimm flew overheard and tore through the streets of the city. Dead ahead stood the circular structure he so desperately longed to approach, filled to the brim with opportunity. Unfortunately for him, the one woman he would listen to- the only one he would be forced to listen to if he dared disobey- had ordered him to stand down while she dealt with affairs elsewhere.

A gentle gurgling noise emanated from the floating, tendrilled orb beside Arthur that served as the man's only company out in the field of snow. The inside of the creature's dark globe-like head swirled with a red mist, the shapes inside writhing and twisting as though they could form an image at any moment. Arthur paid the grimm only his partial attention as he drew a small box from within his coat and cracked it open, revealing a line of cigars. With a tired sigh, he lifted one of the small sticks to his lips and produced a flip lighter from elsewhere within his coat. It took several attempts to strike the flame, but only one for a high-caliber bullet to fly straight into the metal casing and graze Arthur's hand. The second bullet speared straight through the floating grimm beside him, bursting the minion's head and causing its remains to crash down to the snow in a heap as dark ichor splattered across Arthur's jacket.

Another bullet narrowly missed the man's head as he ducked out of the way, allowing his cigar to fall down and tumble off the seat of his vehicle. A bright light was speeding his way accompanied by sporadic muzzle flashes, and Arthur wasted no time in drawing his own firearm in response as he began to accelerate in a wide turn. The man's custom silver revolver was wrapped in gold plating and filigree patterns, with a doubled set of concentric chambers holding a total of 20 armor-piercing rounds. Despite the increased capacity, he wasn't sure it would be enough to down his quarry, especially while shooting through curtains of flying snow.

General James Ironwood was speeding toward the technician on a snowmobile of his own, a murderous determination in his eyes and one hand gripping an overlarge magnum. Much to Arthur's confusion, James adjusted his stance to brace his feet upon the leather seat of the vehicle as he gave chase. The moment that Arthur was momentarily blinded by a spray of snow from his sharp turn, James launched himself into the air using his snowmobile's momentum. The General quickly drew his other pistol and depressed the trigger to summon up a purple burst of energy from the barrel. The exploding gravity dust shell rocketed him forward at even greater speed toward Arthur's snowmobile, and by the time the scientist noticed James' trajectory, it was too late to swerve. With another trigger squeeze, a jolt of propelling dust sent the larger man colliding into Arthur to knock him from his place atop the vehicle with a flying shoulder charge.

Arthur Watts' snowmobile continued to slide along the powdered ground as the two men tumbled into a tandem roll. James was the first to recover, getting to his feet as he fired another powerful slug for his fallen enemy. Arthur got his arm up just in time to raise a glittering holographic shield projected from a silver band around his forearm, catching the bullet within the barrier and letting it spin in suspended animation as he got to his feet and backed away.

"…taking… the fight to me, are you?" Arthur spat, breathless as he aimed his firearm in James' direction. The other man stared him down, his own primary pistol thrust outward. "Bold, as always… but foolish. Do you think you've found every bit of tampering I've done around the city? Do you think my death will bring you anything but additional hardship? Do you honestly believe I don't have a dead man's switch rigged to multiple things in Mantle? We've already won, James. You're delaying the inevitable, and your next move may sink the city in its entirety. Control yourself for your own sake, rather than indulging in your typical, pathetic warmongering nature!"

James' only response was another two bullets as he advanced on Arthur, narrowing his eyes all the while. To General James Ironwood, the optimal targets were obvious- people didn't just appear as their physical selves through his eyes. They appeared as a series of weaknesses. Splashes of red at connecting joints easily snapped. Orange patches in places of previous injury. A pallid green where someone might have a headache or sore muscle. Even before receiving his cybernetic enhancements and replacements, James had been gifted with the ability to analyze a target for any weakness, any potential flaw… and any strength. There was a set of rings on the fingers behind Arthur's shield that thrummed with a disconcerting energy that appeared to James as bands of neon purple. James decided then and there that removing them- or the attached fingers entirely- was to become priority one.

Quite suddenly, Arthur began to return fire as he clenched his ringed fingers in toward his palm. A subtle glow manifested behind his hologram shield, and James resorted to firing off more gravity-infused rounds to propel himself along the surface of the snow, floating lightly out of the way of the gunfire. The cacophony of bullets masked the noise approaching behind him until it was almost too late to react, but James picked up on the familiar approaching sound just in time to dive out of the way. Arthur's snowmobile rocketed through the area as though being magnetically pulled back toward him, passing through the area where James had been standing only moments ago at high speed. Just as quickly as it had appeared, the vehicle skidded to a stop right next to Arthur. The man mounted the snowmobile as he fired off a few last bullets for James. Without another word, he revved the throttle and began to speed toward Amity.

"Calavera! Polendina!" James called as he pressed two fingers to the device in his ear while kneeling in the snow and catching his breath. "He's headed straight for Amity! Be ready!"

"So, it's all going according to plan, then," came Maria's reply.

General James Ironwood holstered his other firearm and dusted off his jacket before walking the short distance to his snowmobile and mounting up.

"This part is," James confirmed. "Though it seems like it may be the only thing going right…"

For the first time in his life, Sun felt as though he might legitimately pass out from sheer adrenaline as his heart hammered in his chest. The faunus and his friends did their best to continue loading the two remaining evacuation ships alongside the volunteers and academy students. As he watched person after person file onto the aircraft before him, he couldn't help but look back to where Salem's body was slowly reforming and the coast guards were working to stave off the massive wave of grimm threatening to overtake the docks. Sun's entire body was trembling involuntarily as he helped a small family of three aboard the ship, and he nearly jumped out of his skin as Blake suddenly touched his shoulder.

"Sun, these two ships… they're full up," Blake said softly, looking almost as miserable as he did. "We need to go."

Sun looked out over the assembled crowd before him. Far in the back, people were fleeing from the docks at the direction of a few officials from the Atlas military force. Far more were too close to the ship to hear the orders to reroute, and staring at Sun and Blake expectantly as they waited to be queued onto one of the ships. He couldn't help but wonder how many had no idea that Salem was so close, or why the ship between the two still standing had exploded. The thought had him on the verge of hyperventilating, and his mouth felt dry as he tried to answer Blake. Finally, he managed to momentarily master his breathing and answer her.

"…yeah," Sun croaked. "Y-yeah, we need to… but all these people…"

Blake cupped her hands on Sun's cheeks, giving him a serious look.

"Don't," she warned as she shook her head. "Sun… just don't. I know. There's nothing we can do, and there are volunteers working to redirect people. They'll… they'll get as many as they can to safety. We did the best we could. You held off Salem and kept her occupied. Without that, we would've lost even more of these people than we will now. Our job is done for the moment. Focus on me. On us. You n-…"

"Need to be selfish," Sun interrupted with a sniff. "I.. remember. I just wish it didn't mean this."

"Are you ready?" Blake asked as Sun took one look back out over the crowd.

"I have to be," Sun answered as he stepped inside the hatch with Blake. "Where's Neptune?"

"He's safely on the other ship," Blake answered. "I'm so sorry, Sun…"

"Yeah," Sun acknowledged as the hatch closed and a member of the Atlas militia stepped in front of the door to a chorus of yelling citizens. "I feel like such an asshole… like we failed…"

"We'll find a way to get more people out," Blake reassured, though it was clear from her tone that she didn't quite believe her own words. "We'll… do something from up top in Atlas. Right now, I'm just glad you're safe. That we're both safe."

Sun nodded as Blake wrapped him in a tight embrace, which he returned. He could still feel his hands jittering as he closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her hair. It was exactly as he had remembered it- a blackberry scent from her Passione shampoo. The aroma brought back memories of Kuo Kuana, when things were simpler and stable. As the airship took off, Sun squeezed his eyes shut even tighter and tried to focus in on something, anything other than the present.

There they were, down in Ghira's armory. Sun stared in wonder at all of the collected artifacts as he received a brief tour, though the one he was most interested in was the retracting shoulder guard that the larger man wore everywhere he went. He had no idea at the time that he would inherit the piece of armor or matching belt buckle, but even so, he felt an odd sense of safety any time he saw it on Ghira's shoulder. It was as though the man's armor rendered him an invincible protector of the entire family, until he suddenly very much wasn't.

The thought of family floated through Sun's mind and lingered, permeating all of his thoughts. It was then he realized why the thought of seeing Ghira's pauldron in action for the first time had become his go-to memory when in need of comfort- it was when Ghira had explained that he had been calling the boy son.

Sun opened his eyes, finding them full of tears as he looked over Blake's head at the fear-stricken people packed into the cargo hold all around them. Seeing the multitude of others all thinking through their life decisions and wondering about the future proved too much, and so, Sun buried his face back into Blake's hair and squeezed her tighter.

"…we'll get through this," Blake said weakly, her own voice beginning to waver. "Somehow…"

"Yeah," Sun said, his voice barely audible as the ship continued to climb.

"I do want to know something, though," Blake admitted.

"Yeah…?"

"That scroll… the one you gave to Salem…" Blake began hesitantly. "Ironwood gave that to you?"

"Yeah," Sun answered, his voice sounding a bit hoarse. "Still got my old one, so I don't need to collect all your numbers again."

"…did you know that Ironwood had the ability to remotely detonate it? And… can he do that to everyone else's?"

Sun opened his eyes. The heavy sadness and guilt weighing him down was quickly and aggressively replaced by a very familiar, intense feeling of rage.

Author's Note:

Old plotlines resurfacing. Nothing's abandoned- just on hold for a bit, and likely to pop back up at the most inopportune times…

-RD