Weiss squared up, her fists raised in a defensive position and her feet carefully spaced apart. She circled her opponent, slowly, waiting for it to strike. Finally, the machine darted forward and threw a punch. Weiss moved her arms to block it, as she'd been taught, but it halted its attack at the last second. She didn't even see its other fist coming for her side. The blow was restrained—not powerful enough to do any damage, but it still hurt and sent her stumbling to the ground.
"End," said Jaune. The robot froze and returned to idling.
Weiss's nails dug into her palms as she lay there, propped up on one elbow. "What was that about?" she demanded.
"You focused your defense on one attack, leaving yourself open to another," Jaune told her.
"You never told me to expect that!"
"That wasn't the point. You're supposed to be learning to keep your stance right and protect against a hit."
"I am keeping my stance right," she said through gritted teeth. "If it hadn't—"
"If you had, you'd still be standing," he interrupted. "Sometimes you have to absorb a blow, but it shouldn't take you off your feet."
"I'm doing it exactly as you showed me!"
"You're starting off fine, but you lose your form when you start to circle. You have to focus on maintaining it."
"I'm trying!"
"You'll get it," Ruby encouraged from the sidelines. "Just keep practicing."
"Easy for you to say," Weiss muttered as she stood up and brushed herself off. Ruby had been progressing at an almost prodigious rate, though they'd only been training for a short while. It wouldn't take much longer for her to surpass Jaune. In his defense, paragons with active semblances have been shown to have faster muscle memory than most people, not that that was helping Weiss any. Ruby had also started with a few weeks of practice under her belt with her sister, someone with far more experience than Jaune.
"What's even the point of this?" Weiss asked, still angry. "Knowing how to block a punch isn't going to help against an attacker with a gun."
"You asked to learn how to defend yourself," said Jaune. "You have to know the basics to get to the more advanced stuff, like stopping that from happening again."
Weiss's fingers instinctively came up to touch the scar he had pointed to. He was right. She was being childish. She knew that, but was too frustrated to admit it. It wasn't like she'd expected to master hand-to-hand combat instantly, but after nearly three weeks, at least some sign of progress was to be expected.
"Try watching Ruby for a bit," Jaune suggested. "Study how she does it."
Weiss didn't respond right away. Her gaze lingered across the room, not focused on anything in particular. One of the monitors was visible from the corner of her eye—it displayed a message taking up the entire screen, reading, "22 Days Until Vytal Festival". She set her jaw and turned back toward the robot.
"No," she said. "I want to try again."
"Are you sure you don't want to take a break?" Ruby asked.
"I want to try again," Weiss repeated in a firm voice.
Hesitant, Jaune eventually gave in and said, "Repeat last action."
The machine returned to life and prepared to fight. It waited while Weiss carefully recreated her stance and readied her fists.
"Start," said Jaune. Both woman and robot began to move at the same time.
Twenty-two days. That's how long they had to stop Roman Torchwick.
The Vytal Festival is a week-long event held every two years by a different country, taking place in a rotating season. This year, it was being organized by Remnant during the fall. And Vale, being one of the largest and most diverse cities in the nation, got the honor of hosting the festivities. People from all over the world would be coming here to partake in activities, enjoy a myriad of different cuisines, and immerse themselves in numerous diverse cultures. Once upon a time, Weiss had been looking forward to it. Now she dreaded its arrival.
It all started about a week and a half ago, right after Torchwick's latest robbery—this time, he'd mixed things up and hit a museum, snagging a handful of valuable paintings. More people started to ask why someone this dangerous was still only being pursued by local law enforcement. Federal Investigations responded by saying if Torchwick wasn't apprehended by October 25th, then they'd step in and take over. The last day of the Vytal Festival was October 24th.
The fact that they were stalling at all was fishy—that they were stalling until that particular day was downright suspicious. Security for the festival was being handled by the military, so it wasn't like the event was keeping them busy until after it was over. In fairness, there could be any number of classified reasons behind that decision. But, to be safe, Weiss opted to do some digging. The first place she looked was on the Vytal Festival's website, where she eventually found a list of vendors, suppliers, and other associated businesses. Buried within that extensive list was none other than one Brunswick Farms, who was supposedly supplying food.
To avoid jumping to any baseless conclusions, Jaune agreed to take a bus ride down to Vacuo to investigate—it'd been a task to convince Ruby to stay behind. He'd waited for nightfall and broke into the business's main building, which hadn't had a lot of security—or much of anything, for that matter. He'd found an office where he managed to steal some financial records that were very indicative of money laundering, as well as evidence that the owner—a man named Bartleby—did not exist.
There still wasn't enough to definitively name Torchwick as the true owner of Brunswick Farms, but with the current stakes, they had no choice but to work off of the assumption that he was. The fact of the matter was that an illegal business had clearance to operate behind the scenes at an international gathering of hundreds of thousands of people. Worst-case scenario, they exploit that by smuggling in bombs and/or any number of other weapons. None of the possibilities were desirable. And if Weiss's fears were true, Torchwick or his boss had some manner of influence within Federal Investigations, who refused to start chasing him until after the festival was over. So he needed to be brought down before it began.
"I know, I know!" Weiss yelled from the floor. She had failed once again, but didn't want to hear her mistakes repeated.
"End," Jaune said to the robot. He then tried to give Weiss a hand up, but she swatted it away.
"I'm done for today," she said as she got to her feet on her own.
"Watch Ruby," Jaune suggested again. "She—"
"I said I'm done." Weiss stormed off and entered the living quarters, slamming the door behind her—or at least she tried to, but the door frame was padded, which muffled the effect. She sat down on the edge of her bed and took several moments to calm herself, then began to take off her hand wraps. She was halfway through the first one when she heard the door open and close again.
"I'm not in the mood, Ruby," Weiss said without looking up.
"I know how you feel, you know," Ruby said.
"You couldn't possibly."
"Yes, I do. I went through the same thing when I was just a girl."
Weiss paused and looked up at her—Ruby had seated herself on the bed opposite. Weiss said nothing.
"Yang's only the best fighter I know because she grew up learning it all from our dad," said Ruby. "He spent years traveling around the world, learning different styles of martial arts from different teachers before he met my mom and settled down. Yang grew up learning from him, and she mastered everything he taught her—Dad says she's better than him, now. He tried teaching me, too, but I never caught on. It was frustrating seeing how much better Yang was than me, so I eventually gave up. That was when I still thought it was just a hobby. I think the only reason I'm doing better now is because I realize how important it is—and I guess being older helps, too."
"Not for everyone, it would seem," Weiss said bitterly. "I just don't understand it. This comes so easily with my semblance."
Ruby frowned. "Your semblance?"
"Never mind," Weiss said quickly, her cheeks feeling warm. "Forget I said anything."
"What does your semblance have to do with fighting? I thought you just cured people."
Weiss sighed and mentally scolded herself. "Promise not to ridicule me."
"Why would I ridicule you?"
"Promise," Weiss ordered.
"Okay, I promise."
Weiss steeled herself, not used to willingly giving up embarrassing secrets. "My semblance isn't as simple as it seems. It's more . . . involved."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I don't just touch someone and instantly rid them of their ailments. I enter a mental landscape, and I have to fight the manifestations of whatever mental affliction or afflictions the person has."
"Really? Like with your fists? What do they look like?"
"With a sword. And they . . . they look like creatures called Grimm." Her blush deepened.
"Grimm?" Ruby looked momentarily puzzled, but then her eyes lit up. "Oh, like from Warriors of Grimm?"
"You've seen it?"
"I've seen every show. Well, not literally, but I've had a lot more free time to kill than most people."
"Oh, right," said Weiss. The fact that Ruby had chosen to spend her extra eight hours a day watching TV rather than doing anything productive didn't surprise her. Still, she felt relieved to hear that her friend liked the show, too.
"I didn't think you'd watch a show like that," said Ruby. "I figured you grew up watching operas and plays and other fancy pantsy things."
"If by 'fancy pantsy' you mean 'dignified', I did. But those aren't the only things I did—I took other liberties when I could, only because I knew my father wouldn't approve."
Ruby gave a sly smile. "Really? No other reason? Not because it was fun?"
Weiss glared. "You promised not to ridicule me."
"I'm not! I'm really happy right now—it's like I'm seeing a whole new side of you."
"I knew I shouldn't have told you this."
"Oh, come on. This is a good thing! This makes me like you more. You're not the easiest person to relate to, you know."
"Don't you have a wealthy father as well?"
Ruby's eyes shifted. "Well, yeah—now. I didn't grow up in high society. But you were telling me about your semblance. So you actually go into people's minds and fight monsters from your favorite cartoon?"
Weiss eyed her dubiously, but consented to the change of subject nonetheless. "As ludicrous as it sounds, yes." She proceeded to describe the experience in detail, taking care not to miss the fact that none of it was actually real, despite it feeling very much so.
"That sounds like so much fun! You get to actually be a Warrior of Grimm."
"It . . . can be enjoyable at times," Weiss admitted, though that was a slight understatement. "But sometimes the ambiguity of it can be infuriating."
"For example?"
One immediately came to mind. Weiss bit her lip, feeling guilty over her own hypocrisy. She'd chastised Ruby for hiding her sister's views on vigilantism, but Weiss still hadn't told her everything that had happened during that unfortunate cab ride. Now was as good a time as any, she supposed.
"Like when I used my semblance on Torchwick," she said. "I didn't just watch the two memories and leave. Something unprecedented happened—two things unprecedented happened. There was a storm that destroyed my sword, and I was attacked by him, except he didn't have a face."
"No face? Like no nose, no mouth, no nothing?"
"Yes. I believe it was his mind defending itself against me. I heard his voice, too—coming from the sky, not his . . . avatar, or whatever you want to call it. The thing is, that was the first time I've ever used my semblance on someone who didn't consent to it. So I don't know if my semblance evolved again, or if it was always like that."
"Well . . . does it really matter? It doesn't seem to make much of a difference either way."
"Of course it matters! I need to know everything about my semblance—I loathe not being able to fully understand it."
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. That just seems like a pretty minor detail, to me."
Weiss rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't understand. Your semblance is simple. You disappear from one place and appear in another, slightly tired. Because of the stupid way my subconscious processes mine, it's riddled with enigmas. Like the fact that it can also now hurt people instead of healing them, and I haven't the remotest clue as to what extent."
"Wait, what? Your semblance can hurt people?"
Weiss looked at her, momentarily confused. She'd gotten so caught up in her own vexation that she'd forgotten to explain the most important part. She took a second to cool down, then told Ruby what had happened when she hit the faceless Torchwick.
"So, technically," said Ruby, "you can just touch someone and do damage to them?"
"That's what the evidence suggests," said Weiss.
Ruby appeared deep in thought. Weiss knew that look—she was coming up with a potentially reckless and dangerous idea again.
"It doesn't mean anything, though," Weiss said with the hope of putting an end to Ruby's train of thought. "I don't know how much harm I can do to someone, and therefore I can never use this new ability."
"But that's so powerful, though. It wouldn't even matter if you never learned to fight as good as Yang or Pyrrha—you could just go into someone's mind and do the fighting there."
"If I can't land a punch, how do you expect me to touch someone in order to use my semblance on them? But that's irrelevant, anyway. We're not discussing this. I'm not out to cause permanent brain damage or possibly even kill anyone—not even people like Torchwick."
"Yeah. No, you're right." Ruby looked disappointed. "But if you could control it so all you do is put the baddies to sleep or something, that'd be so handy. I could Blink us right on top of them and you could just instantly take them down. Or you could just sneak up behind them and avoid fighting entirely."
"Why are you talking like this would be more than a one-time thing?" Weiss asked, alarmed. "I still haven't even agreed to try to heal Neo."
"I know that. I'm just . . . talking for fun, here. Like what if you could go invisible, like Blake? No one would see you coming, and they'd be asleep before they knew you were there. I don't think the tech exists to mimic Blake's semblance yet, though."
"Of course it exists," Weiss said without thinking. "The STC patented it years ago. But that's beside the point—"
Ruby's eyes lit up. "Really? I've never heard about that."
"Obviously not. The STC didn't exactly shout about their contracts for the military."
"I didn't know the STC was developing for the military."
Weiss gave her a flat look that said, "Really?"
"Oh, right," Ruby said with a slight blush. "So how does it work? Obviously, it can't make you completely invisible, right? It'd have to use some kind of really advanced reflective panels or something like that."
"I don't know. I wasn't as informed with the family business as you might think. And I don't have a clue how any of the technology works. I had access to the company database and heard things around the manor during breaks from school, but that's about it."
"Oh. Where would those prototypes be now that the STC is gone?"
"Why?" Weiss asked suspiciously.
"I'm just . . . curious."
Weiss had to consider whether she wanted to humor the question, then proceeded to wonder whether she even knew the answer. After the STC dissolved, the board members and shareholders who hadn't been convicted for white-collar crimes had scrambled to scoop up as many assets as they could. But things got complicated with Weiss's father—the majority shareholder—being in prison, which resulted in a lot of the asset distribution getting stonewalled by pretty much everyone involved. That was still the case even a year later. As a result of that, a number of STC warehouses and laboratories remain filled with tech and resources that no one has legal access to. A fair amount of those are probably located in Vale, thanks to Weiss's father not hesitating to take advantage of the drop in real estate prices caused by Salem's assault. So, in reality, the tech Ruby was curious about could be stored in one of the several workerless STC warehouses located in . . . this very city.
Weiss abruptly stood, the gears in her head spinning. A thought had just occurred to her. An enlightening possibility if true, but a troubling one. No, surely the government had already seized anything dangerous the STC had been working on. But what exactly qualified as dangerous?
"Weiss?" said Ruby, concerned. "What's wrong?"
"'My base of operations,'" Weiss quoted beneath her breath. "That confirms that he has one main base of operations."
"Who, Torchwick?"
"The County Clerk's office had an STC security system, yet he was able to completely bypass it and erase well-protected data. He's always able to shut off the security cameras as soon as he's finished taunting them. If his targets also . . ."
"What are you talking about?" said Ruby, who sounded completely bemused, but Weiss ignored her.
"There's gotta be . . ." Weiss's momentum came to a halt. The STC database had been purged a while ago, and unfortunately, she only knew one person who might have saved the data she needed.
"Weiss," Ruby said. "What is going on?"
Those piercing silver eyes shook Weiss out of her distraction. She blinked a few times, surprised to find her friend standing directly in front of her and gripping her shoulders, as if she were about to literally shake her.
"I . . ." Weiss bit her tongue. "I need to call my brother."
"Huh?"
"I believe Torchwick could be hiding out in an abandoned STC facility," Weiss said as she took a step back from the girl, whose hands fell back down to her sides. "And I think Whitley is the only one who can confirm it."
"STC facility? That's . . . wait . . . what?" Ruby sounded even more confused, if that was possible.
Weiss grabbed her scroll off of the trunk where she'd left it, then set out of the room with a purposeful stride. She barely registered Ruby hot on her heels and Jaune running drills by himself in the corner. Her attention was on the computer on the back wall, her hands taking control of the keyboard and mouse before she'd even stopped walking.
"Form: optimal," the robot said behind her. "Speed: acceptable. Reaction time: needs improvement. Footwork: needs improvement. Suggested action: practice exercises 12b, 12c, 3c, and 3f."
"End," Jaune said as he approached the two women. "What's going on?"
"I . . . wish I could tell you," said Ruby. "Something big, I guess."
Weiss pulled up the list of Torchwick's past robberies on one monitor and a map service on another. She typed "STC" into it, but it only yielded a few locations within Vale. Her fist clenched. There were definitely more that weren't showing up, but her father likely hadn't registered them under the company name—probably for some clever legal loophole or tax evasion purposes. So that effectively ruled out the slim possibility that she might not have to hold a conversation with her estranged sibling after all. But if you can't avoid something, then delay it for as long as possible.
"I think Torchwick could be using STC technology in order to bypass STC technology," Weiss explained. She began to type as she talked, trying to find info on the security of every location the crime boss had hit so far, starting with the most recent. "It would explain his unheard-of number of successful robberies. If my family's tech is the only thing protecting each of his targets, and he has a way to disable it, then there's no way he could ever be caught in the act."
"How would he even get something like that?" Jaune asked.
"He'd steal it, probably," said Ruby. "I mean, that's what he does best, isn't it?"
"His earliest robbery—bar the ones from Vacuo—took place after the STC dissolved," said Weiss. "A lot of STC facilities have remained without workers since then, but they still haven't been emptied. Torchwick could have broken into one of them and gotten what he needed, and he might also have made a base out of it."
"Where's your proof?" said Jaune.
"I'm trying to find it."
"Hmm," Ruby pondered. "That . . . would sort of make sense. I mean, it'd be a better place than any old abandoned building. That way, no one can just randomly stumble into it. And he'd have his own security system ready to go, if he's good enough to get past it himself to override it."
A few minutes later, Weiss's search wasn't panning out for her. She hadn't really expected it to. A part of her was glad that it wasn't that easy to find what she was looking for—it meant it would be just as difficult for people like Torchwick. But it was still annoying. It would take some time and digging to confirm her theory, and probably wouldn't be possible without more classified intel.
Weiss stepped away from the computer and picked her scroll back up from the desk. The other two were still watching her expectantly. To not keep them waiting, she ripped the bandaid off and finally dialed her brother. The device began to ring. Her heart rate picked up as the seconds dragged by. Then, when she was convinced it'd go to voicemail, he answered.
"Sister," Whitley greeted, his voice the very definition of formality. "To what do I owe this surprise?"
"Hello, Whitley. I . . ." Weiss bit her tongue. "I need a favor."
There was a short silence, then a sigh. "Of course. What other reason could you have to contact your dear brother?"
"Don't pretend that you haven't also been avoiding me."
"That's valid," he conceded. "So what's this favor you mean to ask of me, then? As fortune has it, I'm already back in Atlas."
Weiss hadn't expected that. "You are?"
"Indeed. Only temporarily, however. I'll be departing once more after the Vytal Festival."
"Can't be bothered to stick around for too long, I take it."
He hesitated. "We both have to adapt to the circumstances in our own ways."
Weiss didn't say anything right away. "Have you been to see Mother yet?"
"Of course. Why do you think I came to Atlas instead of directly to Vale?"
"How is she?"
His reply was delayed. "The same."
"Right." Weiss hadn't expected any other answer.
"What's the favor?"
She swallowed and pushed the image of her mother's face out of her mind. "I need access to STC archives."
Weiss could almost see his brow raise ever so slightly, the rest of his expression remaining in a well-practiced poker face. "They've been expunged."
"That's why I'm calling you."
"You think that I have backups."
"Don't play games with me. We may never have been close, but I still know you."
Whitley took his time deliberating his response. "Say I did hypothetically have these documents—how do you plan to retrieve them from me? Last I heard, you were still living in Vale."
"Email?" Weiss suggested halfheartedly.
"Don't make me laugh."
"Look, I'm not a computer genius like you. Do an . . . encryption, or whatever." Weiss glared at Ruby's reaction to her ignorance.
"You disappoint me, dear Sister. Nevertheless, I am willing—under the assumption that this is a quid pro quo—to aide you."
"What do you want?"
"Nothing, at the moment. But should a need arise . . ."
"Fine, I get it. I'll owe you. So can you send me the files, then?"
"No. I can clone them onto an external hard drive, but you will need to collect it in-person."
"What? Why?"
"It's the only secure method. I will not send this data through the internet—this is non-negotiable."
"The company's dead, Whitley. What's the worst that could happen if someone else manages to get hold of this?"
"I don't know, but I don't care to find out. And you need to cease thinking like that. Just because we've suffered a lot already doesn't mean they can't do worse to us still. Someone attacked us. They got Father arrested, toppled the company, and tore our family apart."
"Yeah, I know who—Father."
"You misunderstand. I won't deny Father's crimes, but neither will I deny his cunning. The only conceivable way he could've been caught is if someone exposed him."
"He doesn't exactly have a shortage of enemies."
"Precisely. And I refuse to risk giving them any further opportunities to strike at our family name. So I'll say it once more—this data will remain secure."
Weiss grew suspicious. "You almost sound like you're planning something."
"I've not questioned the motives behind your request—I'd like to ask that you return that courtesy."
She chewed the inside of her cheek. "Fine. But I can't leave Vale."
Jaune opened his mouth, but Weiss held up a finger to keep him quiet.
"My ticket to Vale is dated a week before the festival, if you can wait that long," said Whitley.
"I can't."
"That's unfortunate. I believe that puts us at something of an impasse."
"I can send someone else." Weiss looked at Jaune. "A friend."
He blinked, momentarily stunned by the label, before giving her a nod of assent.
"A friend, you say?" Whitley sounded doubtful. "I don't treasure the idea of handing this outside of the family."
Weiss huffed. "Look at Father, Whitley. He only ever cared about himself and how deep he could make his own pockets. Blood isn't a good way to measure trust."
"So how much do you place in this friend of yours, then?" Whitley asked after a silence.
"Enough. That drive is just as safe in his hands as it is in mine—safer, even."
"Fine. Inform me when he arrives in Atlas, and we can arrange a meeting."
"Okay."
"And don't think I'll be forgetting about that IOU."
Weiss rolled her eyes. "Of course."
"Farewell, Sister."
"Whitley?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
After a pause, he hung up.
Progress was stunted without those files, which meant the end of the night couldn't come soon enough. Jaune agreed to catch the first plane to Atlas the following morning, Ruby generously paying for his ticket. He returned that same afternoon, having collected the hard drive without incident, and they were able to start the real work at last. There was a lot to sift through, so it still took a while.
The first thing they did was examine the inventories of every STC location in Vale, then deduced which of them were worth watching. Any number of things could have been left off the books, so it was impossible to decisively say whether each location had once held whatever it was that gave Torchwick his advantage. But there were plenty they were able to rule out, leaving a select handful for Jaune to place spy cameras around. Then it was just a matter of keeping an eye on the feed as they continued digging.
The following days provided a considerable contrast to the past month. Before, the hours went by slowly, spent grasping at straws and following loose leads, only occasionally coming across something valuable. Training had taken place every few days without a set schedule—Weiss only bothered when Jaune was around to help her, as she made little enough progress with a human touch and knew soloing the machine would be a waste of time. Ruby put a lot of work into creating her "superhero suit", repurposing parts of Jaune's old armor with his permission. Recreation sometimes took the form of board games that Ruby had Jaune retrieve from her apartment. It was a good way to break up the long stretches of tedium, but Weiss mostly preferred reading ebooks on her scroll instead. Life had been boring, but at least it was peaceful. Following Weiss's call to her brother, the only applicable word was "frantic".
They began training daily. Free time was reduced to a minimum. Ruby stopped using her semblance altogether so that someone would be able to have their eyes on the cameras at all times, though she'd only chosen to sleep less than half the time already. The majority of their available minutes were dedicated to crunching away at trying to find the evidence they needed, always within sight of the monitors. All the while, the countdown kept getting smaller.
They were on the right track—they knew that. The data that Whitley provided contained enough to prove Weiss's hypothesis, but it'd taken a great effort to find it. In some way, shape, or form, Schnee technology was being used to protect every building that Torchwick had robbed in Vale. Only some had full, official STC security systems. Others used ones from different companies that incorporated STC components—that'd been the trickiest bit to uncover. The rest were protected by rather young companies invested in by former STC shareholders—the hard drive had been no help in revealing that part, but they still got there in the end.
So one thing was clear—Torchwick had a pattern. He'd found a vulnerability in Schnee tech and a way to exploit it. Unfortunately, there was still nothing to suggest that he was hiding out in any STC facilities. Not a soul had entered or left any of the potential candidates for as long as they'd watched. They could predict how he'd choose his next target, but still didn't know how to find him.
Then, one very early morning, Weiss and Jaune were woken by some excited yelling.
"It's him! I saw him! Weiss! Jaune! It was him!"
For five seconds, Weiss's groggy mind could be nothing but peeved until the meaning of the words caught up with her. She clumsily unburied herself from her duvet and sprang out of bed. Jaune, wearing a messy head of hair and the same clothes he'd had on the night before, was already standing at the computer by the time Weiss hurried through the door he'd left open. She took her place next to Ruby, who pointed at one of the camera feeds. It watched a warehouse that had been owned by an STC subsidiary, which was also now defunct. Weiss spotted a vehicle in the parking lot that had heretofore always remained vacant, but no other sign of life. It was an expensive luxury car painted pure white with gold accents. It had been left running with the headlights turned off.
"He went inside just a second ago," Ruby said. "He was alone and didn't look like he had any trouble with the lock."
"You're sure it was him?" said Jaune.
"Hat, cane, orange hair—couldn't have been anyone else."
"Where is this?" Weiss asked.
Ruby pulled up a list of addresses, each with a number corresponding to one of the spy cameras on the other monitors. Ruby typed one into a maps tool without having to look at the keyboard.
"That's . . . Hey, this is only a couple blocks away from Blake's place," she said.
Weiss pursed her lips. Irony. Ruby wanted her sister away from their apartment so that Torchwick wouldn't know where she lived, so she sent her to stay within walking distance of said crime boss's secret lair—if that's what this building was. It was a bit strange how they'd not seen him anywhere near it up until now. Perhaps he'd just gotten back from a vacation or something.
"So . . . what happens now?" Weiss asked.
"We watch him, scout the area, and come up with a plan," said Jaune.
"Yeah!" Ruby said enthusiastically. "Then we take him down, once and for all."
Weiss's heart began to beat faster as she continued to watch the still camera feed. This was really happening. It was no longer this far off thing that may or may not happen. No one more capable was coming to take the burden from them. Ruby and Jaune were going to dive headfirst into danger, with or without Weiss, and nothing could prevent that.
One of the bay doors on the warehouse opened and a man walked out of it. There was no mistaking him. Torchwick stood to the side and waved his hand, signaling the car to change gears and cross the threshold. He followed it back inside, and the door slowly began to close behind him. Before it shut completely, they were able to catch a glimpse of the driver's heeled knee-high boots as she exited the vehicle.
"Weiss," Ruby said after a few seconds.
Weiss met her eyes.
"You're going to have to make your choice now," said Ruby. "We can't form a plan until we know whether you're in or out."
Weiss looked away. "I know."
A silence dragged on. Before either of them decided to comment further, Jaune suddenly dug his scroll out of his pocket, the screen alight. He stared at it a moment before tapping a button and bringing the device up to his ear.
"Hey, Saph," he said. "What? Yeah, I'm fine . . . What news?" There was a pause, then all the blood drained from his face. "What? No. No, that's . . ." He grew silent. The person he was talking to continued frantically chattering away as his arm fell limply to his side.
"Jaune? What's wrong? What happened?" Ruby asked.
He said nothing, staring blankly at the wall behind her.
"Jaune?" Ruby said, more worried than before. "Jaune!"
He finally looked down at her, then swallowed. His lips parted, but his voice was lost to him.
Weiss stepped up to the computer and opened a new tab on a web browser. She searched for the latest news, then let out an involuntary gasp at what she found.
"Oh," was all Ruby could think to say.
The first article was titled, Impostor Protector of Vale Unmasked at Last. It was accompanied by a picture of Jaune in the suit with his helmet off.
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.
