Joanna led them to a small, crooked side-street that seemed unsure if it wanted to run uphill or down. Two broken heaters left it nearly impassable. Weiss did her best to make passage easier for the Huntress and her still squirming burden by crossing the ice with glyphs, but they were still all shivering and out of breath by the time they came to the door of a small two-story building.

It looked almost painfully average for this part of Mantle—weather-dulled paint flaking off the bricks, lower windows barred and upper ones boarded up where the glass had broken. The only sign of anything more going on inside was a small emblem of a bird spreading its wings painted next to the door. How appropriate, Weiss thought, and wondered if Joanna would be offended if she burst out laughing.

Yang went to open the door. It took a moment, and a firm shove, before it gave with a sharp crack and a squeal that made Blake cringe. They stood back to let Joanna haul the man over the threshold by the collar. She released him then, though she stood firmly in the way of his only escape route. Inside was what looked a bit like a receptionist's office, though it was clear no one had used the desk in ages—it was buried in so much paperwork that it looked like it had withstood a heavy snowfall, and there was a cheap plastic table set up near the middle of the room. A teenaged girl, probably a couple of years younger than Ruby, glanced up at them as they walked in.

"Hi Jo!" she said, not even a little bit put off by Joanna's obviously unwilling passenger. "Robyn's just—"

"In here!" someone called out from the next room.

"C'mon," said Joanna. Weiss was a bit taken aback—she hadn't expected to be allowed to walk right up to her father's political rival without so much as checking her rapier at the door.

"Don't we need clearance or something?"

Joanna snorted. "This isn't the military, kid. It's a public building. Anybody can walk in whenever." She glared at the man, who'd started sidling towards the door. "As long as they remember we aren't easy targets."

"I didn't know anything about that!" he protested.

Weiss wanted to ask what exactly he didn't know anything about, but Joanna was already opening the door. Inside was a tiny and shriveled-looking old man whose head was dwarfed by his bat ears. When he spoke the words came out dry and wispy, and so quiet that she had to strain to catch them. "I'm sorry to drop this on you. I know you're busy with the campaign, but I was out late when I saw it—"

"Not a problem," the woman across from him promised. She glanced up at the sound of the door opening. It was a little odd, since they looked nothing alike—but when her eyes fixed on them, curious and calculating without ever seeming cold, Weiss was reminded of Ruby. "Joanna! Who'd you find? And where's Fiona?"

"Putting up a sign," said Joanna. She gripped the back of the man's coat and deposited him in the middle of the room. "Someone thought it would be a good idea to steal the generator out of another heater."

"What?" Robyn Hill—or at least, Weiss had no idea who else she might be—stood up so quickly that she almost knocked over her chair. "Why?"

He folded his arms and scowled. Maybe he was trying to look menacing, but it came off as more petulant than anything else. "I was trying to make a point. People around here need to remember how much they depend on Atlas' technology, and the real citizens that work hard to keep this city running!"

The old man let out a hoarse cackle that turned into a hacking cough. "Blane," he wheezed, "you work in sorting. Talk to me about ingrates once you've mined enough Dust to power a city block."

Robyn pinched the bridge of her nose. "Sorting is important too, Cas."

"A child could do it! Children did! I've seen boys work harder than that man with their voices still cracking!"

"Which is bad," Robyn reminded him. "Child labor is a bad thing that shouldn't happen."

He waved that off as irrelevant to his point. "And what in the damn hell are you talking about, the technology of Atlas? Some of them you broke have been around longer than that floating rock, boy!"

"What?" Ruby blurted, appalled.

"Not literally," Joanna said, and deposited Blane into a chair. "But they're older than you, and they've never been very reliable. Which is something we've been trying to get fixed." She glared at him.

He scowled back. "What do you want? You can't hold me here."

Robyn heaved a sigh and leaned on the table. "Let's not pretend we're stupid, alright? Jacques hasn't shut up about how much technology Mantle gets out of our partnership since last month's strike. He's not subtle, you're not subtle, and I'm really not subtle. So why don't you just say the quiet part out loud?" She extended a hand. "Let me know why I spent the past two weeks putting up warning signs so that people around here wouldn't break any more bones."

His eyes narrowed. He grabbed the offered hand and spat, "Because you and your people are in bed with the White Fang, and you all deserve to freeze in the tundra."

Their linked hands glowed green. "We're not," she said, the green light of her semblance bringing out frown lines around her mouth. "I don't condone arson."

Blane snatched his hand away. "Right," he scoffed. "Like I'm going to trust your semblance."

She grimaced. "Yeah... didn't think so. Joanna, mind dropping him off at the precinct? Your authorization still works, right?"

"Last I checked."

"Check again before you go. I don't want to give him the chance to do this again, but we can't give them an excuse to hold you."

Joanna nodded once, grabbed Blane, and started towards the door.

"Hey!" he shouted. "Hey! You said I wouldn't go to the cops if I came with you!"

"I said we wouldn't talk to them about you throwing a bomb at my teammate," Joanna reminded him. "Don't worry, I'm sure they'll be real understanding when you explain how you sabotaged the heating grid out of civic responsibility." She dragged him out the door, which creaked closed behind them.

"The sad thing is, she's probably not wrong," said a completely unfamiliar voice.

All of them whirled around. Weiss' wings snapped out instinctively and knocked a stack of books off a nearby shelf, and Blake had Gambol Shroud halfway out of the sheath before they all registered that the new voice belonged to another Huntress, who was leaning casually against the doorframe without any weapon drawn.

"What—when did you—" Weiss spluttered. Then she paused, eyes narrowing as she got a better look at her face. "Do I know you?"

"Yep." She smirked. "It'll come to you in a minute."

It did—and it felt rather like falling down a set of stairs, one impact after another. First came the memory of a Huntress hurling a bench through one of the windows at City Hall. But she'd looked familiar then, too. Probably because she had the same cobalt hair and gold eyes as Doctor Marigold. And beyond that, there was the vague impression of a hunched figure standing stiffly in the corner at one of father's galas, chatting with Winter and making a younger Weiss furiously jealous.

"Oh!" she blurted. "Oh, you're the—um—"

"I like the term family disappointment, personally."

Weiss winced. "I'm sorry, I don't remember your name."

"You really shouldn't be. And it's May." She glanced at Robyn. "Fiona's home, by the way. She just texted."

"Good." Robyn ran a hand through her hair. "Fuck. I was hoping you were wrong about the sabotage idea."

"I was wrong about it being the military."

Rubbing her temples with both hands, Robyn turned to look at them. "Thank you all, by the way. I'd love to have an actual chat once we're out of crisis mode. But it's almost curfew and I need to bother a few people in Atlas, make sure this gets dealt with properly—"

"Alright, alright!" Cas said, chuckling and heading towards the door. "I know when I'm not wanted!"

"Come back tomorrow!" Robyn called after him. "We still need to talk about getting you a job with us!"

"Don't you start on that again! I can work just fine, I don't need any of your damn charity!"

"It comes with night hours!"

He glared at her, one ear flat and the other twitching with grudging interest. "Good night," he said testily, and slammed the door.

"One day," she sighed.

"So, um..." Ruby shifted reluctantly from foot to foot. "We won't be around for that long. We're leaving tomorrow, and we'll be back later but only for a day or two, so..."

Robyn nodded, looking a touch disappointed. "Well, you know where to find us."

"Do you have a hotel?" asked May, though she was already halfway absorbed looking at something Robyn was scribbling down.

Yang nodded. "Booked a couple rooms on the CCT before we flew out."

"Alright. Take care of yourselves, and come by any time if you want to help out again!"

Weiss swallowed a twinge of guilt. But Robyn had been right—they didn't have long before curfew. So they shuffled out into the deepening dusk, walking quickly, eager to reach the hotel and get inside where it was warm. Even with the heaters clunking along on either side of the street, the rain under their feet turned into a thin slush. Weiss had to squint against the wind that picked up.

The old man walked a ways ahead of them. He was so thickly bundled into his coat that all she could see of his profile were the twin lumps of his pointed ears under his hood—but even from thirty feet away, she could tell he was shivering. They caught up to him quickly. Yang was already struggling out of her jacket.

"Don't even think about it! I've hiked through open tundra on colder days than this."

Yang paused. "Okay, but... I have aura to keep me warm. It's really no trouble."

His eyes narrowed. They were all that was visible of his small, pointed face—he'd wrapped it in a threadbare scarf to ward off the rain. "What is it with young people these days? Do I look like I'm about to keel over to you?!" He glared fiercely at Yang for about half a second before he had to double over and cough. Weiss grabbed his arm instinctively, steadying him before he could tip over.

"Don't look at me like that," he grumbled.

She looked away. "My grandfather had Dust lung. That's all."

"Hm." Cas gave her arm a small pat, then left his hand there. "I meant to ask. You're the spitting image. Apart from the wings, ha!"

"Wait, you knew him?"

"Why do you think I'm making Robyn pry me out of those mines with a crowbar?" He gave a creaky chuckle. "They have to pay me twice what everyone else is making down there, to honor the contract I started with. There was, what, twenty of us? Didn't have equipment worth a damn, either. Time was the light we were sharing went out, and I had to lead the whole sorry lot of 'em back to the surface."

Blake's ears pinned back. "Sorry, but... I don't think I understand. You're old enough to retire, aren't you? Why not take a less strenuous job? One that wouldn't impact your health so much?"

"Hnn." His soured expression was so exaggerated, Weiss could see it through his scarf. "This is what I mean. Everywhere I turn there's some fresh-faced do-gooder trying to get me to quit! Sienna "we've got to get out of the mines" this, Robyn "come be my receptionist" that! What, am I going to catch Dust lung twice? Mind your business!"

The question bubbled up like bile. "What's it like?" Weiss blurted, before she could stop herself. "Working in the mines?"

"Eh? It's dark and cramped and stinks like hell. Better than up here by far. Worse than those first years after the war, just like everything else. I'd say it's worse than before the war, but then my old pa would claw himself out of the grave just to box my ears."

"How can it be worse?" Ruby asked, sounding disturbed.

Another wheezy chuckle. "What do you think? Back then I was a young dreamer about to set the world right with a bit of elbow grease. Now I'm the old man surrounded by young dreamers, waiting for the world to disappoint 'em."

A lump the size of a fist lodged itself in Weiss' throat. "Is this about the election?"

"That and more, engel." He gave her arm another pat. "Well, this is me—"

Weiss had already stopped walking. She stood there, stunned, wondering if she'd imagined it. He gave her an odd look, then tutted and began to shuffle his way up the stoop of an old but well-tended apartment complex. "I bet you'd have handled yourself well down there," he said over his shoulder. "If that's what you were wondering. It's in your blood, Schnee!"

Her mind, already reeling from hearing someone use the old Mantle dialect her grandfather had spoken, lurched and stumbled. She wondered when was the last time someone had said her name like that, as if it was something to be proud of. Certainly she'd never heard another faunus treat it with anything but the disdain it had earned. And always there was that distance. Some respected her too little to call her a Schnee, and others respected her too much.

She didn't have time to think about it. Couldn't even tell which of her friends collided with her first. "I'm okay," she said, which was odd because her face was wet. "We should—we should probably go check in at the hotel."

It wasn't far, at least. They still had about fifteen minutes to spare before the curfew by the time they walked inside. Ruby took the lead on their way to the receptionist at the front desk, since their rooms were in her name. The lobby was otherwise deserted, except for a porter that had paused halfway through loading a luggage cart into an elevator to stare at them.

"Hi," Ruby said cheerfully. "Ruby Rose, we booked our rooms over the CCT?"

The receptionist paled and gave his tie an anxious tug. "Oh. Well. Um."

Yang raised an eyebrow. "We'd like our keys, please?"

He swallowed a few times. Glanced at Blake, then the ceiling, then Weiss, then his terminal. "Um."

"There's a sign," the porter said lamely, and pointed. Just beside the clock on the far wall was a small plaque with the outline of a dog's head on it, crossed out with a large red letter X. Weiss' feathers stood on end.

"We already have a room booked," she snapped. "And there was nothing about this on your CCT site, by the way."

Blake's eyes narrowed as she nodded. "The least you could do is give us some warning that this place isn't worth our time."

"We're not supposed to put the sign outside," said the porter. "With the fires and all."

"This is ridiculous!" Her wings snapped out, and the receptionist flinched.

"We, uh, we can give you a full refund—"

Yang's eyes flashed red. "We don't need a refund, we need the rooms we paid for!"

Ruby leaned over the desk. "Please, it's almost curfew. We don't have time to find somewhere else right now. Couldn't you just look the other way? You wouldn't have to tell your boss or anything."

He shook his head miserably.

"Fine." Weiss turned on her heel. She didn't want to look at him anymore. "Let's just get our money back and go."

In minutes they were back out in the cold, huddling together while Ruby searched on her scroll. "The closest one that says it's faunus friendly on the website is twenty blocks from here," she said, shoulders slumping. "There's no way we'll get there in time."

So, with no other leads, they retraced their steps to a familiar apartment complex. Weiss couldn't find a buzzer anywhere, and she didn't know which apartment Cas lived in anyway, so she just knocked on the front door. It opened a moment later, to a teenaged boy with a bushy striped tail blinking at them in confusion. "Uh, hi?"

"Hello. Is Cas here?"

He squinted at them a moment. "Are you trying to crash here for curfew?"

"Yeah," Ruby admitted, with something between a grin and a wince. "Sorry. We had a hotel room, but..."

The boy snorted. Then he disappeared for a while, and came back with a groggy-looking Cas. Before long they were climbing a set of steep stairs that squealed under their feet, while curious faces poked out from every door. A few handed them blankets or pillows, so that by the time they were up in the old man's living room they had enough bedding to be quite comfortable even on his ancient and crumbling sofa. It went so smoothly that Weiss was certain other people had crashed here like this before. Probably many times.

Weiss curled up in the pile her team formed from the sofa to the floor, comfortably warm in the nest of blankets, and closed her eyes. Sleep didn't come. She tossed and turned, thinking of broken heaters, of father's dire warnings about the city below, Pietro's hole-in-the-wall clinic, and a shivering old man.

"Mm?" Yang stirred, blinked one eye open, and kissed her forehead.

"It'll be okay," said Blake. "It's just one night, and we can go home in the morning."

"No." Stunned silence fell.

Weiss sat bolt upright, fists clenching. "No," she repeated, surprising no one more than herself with the conviction in her voice. "This is my home too. I'm not letting him take it without a fight."

It was too dark to see much—but she could make out Ruby's grin just fine. "You know," she whispered conspiratorially, "I've been kinda hoping you'd say that."