"So here's what's going to happen." Roman Torchwick shifted gears and pulled out onto the road. "We're just gonna go for a little drive, and we're gonna talk."

"What do you want with us?" Ruby asked. If she was afraid, she was hiding it very well.

Torchwick gave a confused look through the rear-view mirror. "Didn't I just answer that? I swear I just answered that. Weren't you listening? Cruising and chatting, girls—we're cruising and chatting."

"And then . . . what? You're just gonna let us go?" said Ruby.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On what you know, and whether you do anything stupid."

Weiss wasn't hiding her fear. Her eyes were wide, her heart was pounding, and she was surprised to look down and find herself clutching Ruby's hand so tightly she might break it. Weiss loosened her hold—even though the girl showed no signs of pain—but didn't let go. After being pinned against a wall at knife-point and staring down the barrels of several guns, merely being in a car with the most notorious criminal in Vale should be less terrifying by comparison—it wasn't.

"Get us out of here!" Weiss hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

"Not yet," Ruby muttered.

"What?" Weiss was incredulous, but didn't dare to look directly at her.

Ruby raised her voice and directed it toward the front seat. "Where are you taking us?"

"Nowhere," Torchwick answered. "Not exactly in my best interest to show you how to get to my base of operations when you can just teleport to freedom at any moment. So I'm just going to circle around the block for a while."

"How do you know about that?" Ruby sounded surprised.

A smile appeared on Torchwick's face. "Haven't you figured it out yet? Junior's on my payroll. Now shut up. Not to sound cliché, but I'm supposed to be asking the questions."

"How did you find us?" Weiss asked, her voice surprisingly steady.

There was a pause before he replied. "Alright, I'm gonna allow you just that one, Snow White, because I relish the chance to boast. Honestly, I was about sixty-five percent sure it was you two at the club before you reacted to my 'teleport' comment. Oops. Thanks for clearing that up for me."

Weiss's heart sank.

"Those freaky twins of Junior's—god, they creep me out," Torchwick continued, "they mentioned one of you claimed to have a sister for a cop. That really narrowed down the search. And Junior happens to have had dealings with a number of female cops, so I figured I'd start there. Did some digging, found out which of those pigs had sisters, and then it was just a matter of waiting and watching my handful of candidates. Until finally, I get a call that you, Miss Rose, were seen meeting up with someone who matches the description of the other woman at the club. So I stole a cab, moseyed on down here, and waited. Not bad detective work, if I do say so myself."

Neither of them stated whether they agreed.

"So here's the situation," said Torchwick. "Junior meets a lot of people and gets asked a lot of questions. I told him, 'Anyone asks about me, I wanna know about it.' Then I said, 'Anyone so much as mentions my boss, they don't leave the building. I need to meet them pronto.' And you two just so happened to describe her to a T, right before that meddling asshole in the armor showed up and made my life a lot more difficult. So the question I have for you is, who the hell are you and what do you want with her?"

"Your boss?" Weiss said, acting confused. "There's little guarantee that we're even talking about the same person. There are plenty of tall, pale-haired women in Vale."

"Ah. That would certainly make this a lot easier. But the thing is, you also asked about Bole Maze—a buffoon that she pawned off on me. Now tell me that's a coincidence."

Weiss tried, but she couldn't come up with a decent lie fast enough. Ruby's silence suggested that she was having the same issue.

"That's what I thought," said Torchwick. "You didn't exactly leave much up to the imagination. Now, one more time—who the hell are you, and what do you want with her?"

Weiss glanced helplessly at Ruby but was disappointed to find that she didn't appear to have any bright ideas either. They were backed into a corner, and the only way out was with Ruby's semblance. But though Weiss was still holding her hand, the silver-eyed girl was evidently fine with staying right where they were.

"Can one of you answer the damn question?" the criminal said after a silence. "I'm a busy man, I have places to be."

"We don't know!" said Ruby, her tone convincingly desperate. "We have no idea who she is or what she's doing. Neither of us have even seen her face."

"Then tell me why you're asking seedy club owners about her."

"We were looking for Bole Maze," Weiss fibbed, her mind working at a mile a minute to come up with something believable. "He . . . harassed me a couple of years ago, on multiple occasions. He made advances on me, and then got aggressive when I rejected him. And on the last occasion, he got . . . handsy. I'm not sure what he would have done if that woman—I only saw the back of her—hadn't called him off. I reported him to the police, but they never did anything, so I tried to forget about it.

"But then I saw him again a couple of months ago. He behaved exactly the same, though he didn't seem to remember me. This time I talked to her sister—" Weiss pointed at Ruby "—but she said they couldn't do anything without evidence. I'd hoped if I could find him again and get his actions on video, it'd be enough to press charges. We didn't have much luck, so we went to Junior and asked about him and the woman. And that's as far as we got."

As soon as she finished, Weiss held her breath. Ruby gave her hand a squeeze. Seconds passed, during which Torchwick gave a few glances at her through the mirror. It was impossible to tell what he thought of her story.

"See, this is why I hate cops," Torchwick finally said. Weiss sighed in relief. "Well, one of the reasons, at least. Justice is an illusion that seldom serves the people who actually need it. But, with that said, Bole's dead. Had to have that loose end killed weeks ago."

"He's . . . dead?"

"Feel free to thank me."

Weiss pretended to be shocked by this "news" as Ruby just looked quietly thoughtful. The girl freed her hand from Weiss's and rested her head in it, repeatedly tapping her finger against her cranium as she continued to stare up at the driver's seat.

"Don't sound too grateful," Torchwick said sardonically. "I only gave you what you were after."

"I didn't want him dead!" said Weiss. "I wanted him arrested!"

"Hmm." He was quiet as they came up to a large intersection, stopping when the light turned red. "Here's the deal, ladies—I don't want to kill you. But if I have to, then I have to. And as an accomplished liar, I have to give you props on that one—I actually still think it's possible you're telling the truth. But that's irrelevant."

Weiss looked over at Ruby, who'd begun kicking her foot. The girl was still tapping her skull, apparently deep in thought, but her eyes were wide and moving between Weiss and Torchwick.

"I need to know that you're not a threat," Torchwick continued. "You two look innocent enough, but I know firsthand that looks can be deceiving. So I'm afraid that—"

As Weiss continued to stare at Ruby, it clicked. She allowed herself a moment of trepidation, then realized that she had nothing to lose. Her previous hopes that he might let them go peacefully were gone. So, she did as Ruby wanted and lunged forward, thrusting her hand through the open window that divided the front of the cab from the back. Weiss grabbed the side of the criminal's head and closed her eyes.

"What the—?" Torchwick started.

Then she entered his mind.


The first thing Weiss noticed was the thunder, and then the raindrops pelting her skin. As she drew her rapier, unsure what mental illnesses someone as nefarious as Roman Torchwick could be harboring, she realized she wasn't in the Emerald Forest. She was in Forever Fall, like the time she'd failed to cure Jaune Arc. She didn't know what to make of that.

Weiss took a few steps, looking around for a memory. She couldn't immediately see any, and worried whether she even would. The storm was unprecedented—what else could be different?

A pungent scent filled the air, similar to chlorine, and then the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood on end. She looked down at her silver weapon just as a metallic taste entered her mouth. Quickly, she dropped it and dove to the side. A moment later, a deafening bang shook the forest. Weiss pushed herself to her feet and turned around. She could hear nothing but ringing, but saw a blackened spot where she'd just been standing, as well as the shattered remains of her sword.

For a time, she just stood there, dumbfounded, while her hearing slowly came back to her. She'd never been caught defenseless in a mindscape before. If a Grimm attacked, there was no way to kill it. She could only hope that Torchwick was somehow completely sane.

When the ringing had lessened enough that she could hear the downpour once again, she set off. It was unclear how accurate the rules of lightning would be here—the current hadn't traveled to her through the ground, after all. But she was here for information, and she wouldn't find it by cowering away from the storm.

She tried to process these new developments, to theorize what they meant, but it was hard to do that and stay focused at the same time. Not being entirely alert in uncertain conditions such as these could be catastrophic.

She soon found what she was looking for, only a couple of minutes after she'd begun walking. Suspended in midair near a sapling was a window. Weiss hurriedly approached it and stared through the glass. She saw through Torchwick's eyes into what looked like an empty stable. Kneeling before him was a man on his knees, his hands bound behind his back and his face bruised. His gaze darted around, fearful, searching fruitlessly for an escape.

"Your gun, Neo," Torchwick ordered, excitement in his voice. He held his hand out to the right, and someone placed a pistol in it, but his gaze never left his prey. "I've waited a long time for this, Perry."

"They had me dead to rights, man," said the captive. "They offered me a deal—I had no choice!"

Torchwick cocked the gun, which caused his victim to flinch. "But you did have a choice. That's what really pisses me off. You could've chosen not to rob the damn store. We already had the fucking jewelry!"

"I'm sorry!"

"I lost five years because of you!" Torchwick kicked him in the gut, making Perry cry out and keel over onto his side. "I'd say it's too late for sorry, but there was never a time for it in the first place."

He clicked the safety off and aimed the gun, his finger on the trigger. Perry clenched his eyes shut, waiting for the bullet to come. But seconds passed, and it never did. Torchwick suddenly lowered the barrel toward the ground and took a few steps closer to his victim.

"In movies, this is usually a mistake," he said, "but I'm going to take the opportunity to monologue. I think I've earned that much, don't you?"

Perry didn't respond.

Torchwick sighed. "We could've built an empire, Perry. We could've filled a lake with lien and sailed a fleet of yachts over it. I've never been a big believer in destiny, but that was mine. You took it from me. That first robbery was supposed to be the first of many. We executed it flawlessly, but you couldn't wait one measly little week until we fenced off the goods. And because of that, you're going to be drowning at the bottom of that lake.

"Oh, yes, there's still going to be a lake. There won't be any yachts, and it's going to be a lot smaller than initially planned—more of a large pond, really—you know what? Fuck this metaphor; it sounded better in my head. I'm just going to speak normally. Since my time in a cell, I've learned that some things are important enough to make sacrifices for. I wanted to be a multi-billionaire, an inspiration to every kid who swipes a candy bar from a grocery store and falls in love with the thrill.

"Now, though, I'll have to settle for a few hundred million. One big heist, the wealthiest bank in all of Vacuo—its contents are mine for the taking, then I retire. You could've been right there with me and the rest of my loyal henchmen. You could've died a wealthy man, Perry. Instead, you'll die in the dirt like the rat you are."

He aimed the gun. Weiss looked away and covered her ears.

"Thanks for staying so quiet through all this," said Torchwick. "You always were a good listener."

"Wait, I—!"

Bang!

Torchwick allowed a few seconds of resonating silence, then said, "How was that? Dramatic enough?"

Weiss turned back around, but the window was gone.


The rain came down harder, and the thunder clapped more frequently. It felt like the weather itself was telling her that she wasn't welcome. She wondered whether it was worth it to continue. At any moment, she could be struck by lightning, or a Grimm could attack—likely a Geist, if any, based on what she'd learned about Torchwick so far. That'd wear her down in the real world, which wouldn't help her chances of fleeing to safety.

"Leave," Torchwick's voice suddenly echoed all around her, faint. Then again, louder. "Leave!"

Weiss stopped in her tracks, then actually decided to heed his warning. But before she could, another memory caught her eye. She hesitated, standing indecisive for several seconds, and ultimately ran straight for it.

Torchwick was walking down a windowless hallway toward a heavy metal door. Weiss could hear at least two more sets of footsteps following along behind him. When he reached the end, he punched 592333 into the keypad—Weiss instinctively committed the code to memory. The door slid open into the wall.

The room was clearly a holding cell, but an unconventional one. It was a lot bigger than normal—about the size of an average living room. Other than the expected toilet and cot in two corners, there was also a shower, and the rest of the space was dedicated to exercise equipment. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all covered in white plates with red light shining through the cracks. Weiss recognized the technology from images she'd seen online—it was a semblance inhibiting chamber. Even the STC hadn't had access to that.

Stranger yet, though, was the cell's occupant. Based on all of that, you'd expect a huge, robust paragon with a powerful semblance. Instead, it was a teenage girl. At least a couple years shy of adulthood, she stood erect with her back against the far wall, her arms crossed behind her. Her brown hair had been unevenly cut close to the scalp, and she was barefoot, wearing only a tank top and cheap, loose-fitting pants. She was short, even for her age and she looked healthy, but no fitter than average. The unique thing about her was her eyes. Besides the fact that one was brown while the other was pink, they both conveyed a palpable fear, but also a strange coldness. It was like she was imagining a hundred different ways to kill the man staring at her, but believed that doing so would be the worst thing possible.

"Wait outside," Torchwick ordered his men.

"Boss?" one said nervously.

"You heard me."

He took a single step into the room, and that was all Weiss could see of that memory, for she suddenly heard snapping twigs and crunching leaves behind her. She whipped around and reached for her hip, having momentarily forgotten the fate of her rapier. She prepared to run, but was stunned by what was approaching her. It wasn't a Grimm—it was Torchwick, dressed as he was in the real world but unarmed, and he had no face.

"Leave!" Torchwick's voice echoed from the sky once more, louder than ever.

The faceless Torchwick reached Weiss and threw a punch. She barely raised her arms in time to block it, but the force sent her stumbling back. She should've collided with the window, but it had evidently disappeared. He attacked again, striking with one fist after another. Weiss backed away from the first two, then rolled under the third, winding up behind him. She aimed a blow at his back, and it struck true. At the same instant, the ground began to shake, which gave her pause. That might actually damage him.

As Torchwick's avatar turned around, Weiss dropped to her knees. She closed her eyes, the last thing she saw being his foot coming for her face. It never connected. When she opened her eyes again, she was back in the cab.

"—hell? Agh!" The real Torchwick swatted her hand away and clutched his temple, his face scrunched up like he was suffering from a spontaneous ice cream headache. "Oh, that was a mistake," he groaned through his teeth.

Ruby suddenly gripped Weiss's arm. A moment later, Weiss felt a tug in her gut, and then she was falling on her rear outside the vehicle.

"Come on!" Ruby instantly pulled her to her feet and started tugging her away.

Weiss ran with her and didn't look back. She saw that they were going deeper into an alleyway, another street visible at the far end. It didn't sound like anyone was chasing them, but she wanted to get as far away from that man as possible.

They'd only been running for a few seconds when a gust of wind rushed past them, immediately followed by a woman appearing in their path. They skidded to a halt, and Weiss instantly recognized her as the girl from the memory, except older. She looked to be in her mid-twenties now, still standing no higher than five feet tall. Her hair had grown out below her shoulders; she'd dyed the right half pink and left the rest brown. She was dressed quite fashionably, complete with a pair of gun holsters at her hips and a pink parasol resting on her shoulder. Her heterochromatic eyes didn't look the slightest bit fearful, this time—there was only anger.

"Who are you?" Ruby asked. "What do you want?"

The woman said nothing. She took a slow step forward and closed her umbrella. She twisted the end of the handle and pulled, separating from it a long, thin sword. She took another step forward, having all the poise of a cat about to pounce on its prey. Weiss and Ruby began to retreat backward without taking their eyes off her. Then the woman raised her sword and pointed it at them, holding the umbrella part down at her side like a sheath.

"Whoever you are, I'm sure we can talk about this," Weiss said, her voice shaky.

The woman raised an eyebrow and tilted her head. Then she opened her mouth, wide enough for them to see that she had no tongue. She closed it and smiled at the looks of horror on their faces, then began to advance, faster now.

"Okay . . ." said Ruby. "So that's a no on the talking, then."

Weiss was about to turn and run back the way they came, but then a noise caused them all to halt. Something was coming toward them, something with loud, metal footsteps. Weiss chanced a look behind her and saw none other than the Protector of Vale sprinting to their rescue at great speed. When the vigilante reached them, they effortlessly leaped over their heads and landed between them and the tongueless woman, shield raised and sword drawn.

The woman's glare deepened, and for a moment, she just stood there. Then she sped away in a quick blur and a burst of wind, gone in a second. The hero relaxed their pose and looked around, but it didn't seem like she was coming back. Then they stared up at the rooftop above them and took a stance, one Weiss had seen once before on the day she'd gotten her scar.

"Wait!" Weiss said hurriedly. "Who are you?"

The Protector hesitated, but said nothing.

"This is the third time you've saved me," said Weiss.

"And the second time you've saved me!" Ruby added.

"Why are you following me?" Weiss asked.

Their sigh sounded strange through the voice modulator, but it was unmistakable. The Protector sheathed their sword and turned to face them. Slowly, as if they were waiting for something to stop them, the vigilante raised their hands up to their head. They pressed something, and the helmet came loose, allowing them to take it off.

Weiss gasped.


A/N: Credit to my beta readers: I Write Big, 0neWhoWanders, and Bardothren. They're great writers who are a huge help with making this story as good as it can be.