Dreamy tones of dated soft-rock floated through the sleeping corridors of Cyrreine Mall. They echoed upon the tiled ground and glass storefronts, joining the footsteps of a lone figure. A man. Tall and clean cut, beanie and black jacket covering his robust figure both reading "Security." He stopped at the intersection between a corridor and the two lane road around the center's inner perimeter, taking a minute to glance past the burger joint to one side, and high-end clothing store on his other.

Under the streetlights, all was still. The man stepped back from the curb and found a bench. A spot to rest, if even for a couple minutes.

No sooner than his back met the uncomfortable black steel, a flash of red and sharp ping from his Holoband. He jolted to attention, pecking at the display to bring up a map of the shopping center. That jewelry store again. Tucked away behind an escalator in the Northeast corner, nearest the garage.

The pounding of the guard's boots settled as he approached with a dust baton in one hand, flashlight in the other. As his light washed over the nook, he saw no hint of movement. The door was shut tight, and the glass was undisturbed.

"Security!" the guard announced. "Who's there?"

No answer but the mall's music. Always playing.

Swiping away the alert with an unreadable expression, and easing his rigid shoulders, the guard returned to his rounds.

A gangly shadow slinked out from around a corner cloaked in blackness. It raised its arm.

A low, hardly noticeable hum burst into a wail of vibrato. As the guard turned on his heels and grasped at his baton once more, a flash lit the night.

"Hello, and welcome to Port Cyrreine International Airport. We hope you enjoyed your flight."

Home.

The bustle of Port Cyrreine International felt like Caspian's plunge into the sea after a week in the relaxed world of Lago Del Sol. A light rain streamed down the domed glass roof of the atrium, soaking in the rainbow of lights from the blurred skyscrapers beyond it. Underneath, droves of travelers weaved between each other in chaotic order, pulling suitcases and luggage carts behind themselves. Every now and then within the crowd Caspian would spot hues of black, white and purple in sharp geometry on a collared shirt or blouse- the certain mark of a Frontline Biomedical Android.

The airport's name disappeared from the ring of hard-light displays floating over the crowd with a flash of blue. A hush fell over them, and for a few seconds, the stream of people seemed to slow. The displays stretched down until the news station's premier anchors appeared on them, next to the image of police poking around the front of a few businesses. The neat, measured and modern storefronts looked familiar somehow.

"Authorities continue to investigate Friday night's homicide," the silent screen's subtitles read. "This is the fourth murder in just two weeks, and authorities suspect a link to the previous three killings. Residents are encouraged to stay inside after dark."

"Fourth?" Caspian reflected.

"Yeah..." Ichigo mumbled into the screen that flashed just before his eyes. "Looks like there was another yesterday morning." He blinked, and his eyes went wide as the lenses that aided them. "No way!"

"What? What's up?"

Ichigo looked up from his Holoband. "It happened at Cyrreine Mall..."

"Wait, the one like... right next to campus?" Rowan checked.

"There is only one Cyrreine Mall," Snow pointed out.

The screen transitioned with dramatic flair to a podium underneath the spotlights that twinkled in the champion's eyes as he held a gaudy golden belt far too large to be practical. He raised it above his head, veins bulging from biceps thicker than his neck. "Stardom. Injury. Addiction. Tonight at seven, Port Cyrreine News Network explores Duncan Castor's turbulent cage fighting career and attempts to answer the question: where is he now?"

The screen finally lost Caspian's attention, and he turned to something that actually mattered: Rowan, Ichigo, and Snow. "We need to meet and discuss our next steps as soon as possible. I'm calling Moka right now. This can't happen again."

The string of murders in Port Cyrreine had locked the doors of Sentinel Academy. The campus attracted visitors from across Vale, and as many students stayed on campus year-round, libraries, food courts, and common areas would stay open on any typical Summer. Blue Square and the Crossroads were all but deserted, surrounded by blackened windows and barred doors. Sentinel Academy felt like a ghost town.

As soon as Caspian, Rowan, Ichigo, and Snow came into view of Cedar Hall's entrance, Moka's tail flipped up and she greeted them with an eager, almost exaggerated wave. "Hey! How was the trip?"

"So good!" Rowan beamed. "I mean, we go every year so I know what to expect, but it didn't disappoint!"

Snow nodded, and the corners of her lips tucked upward in the beginnings of a smile. "It was enjoyable."

Caspian unzipped the side of his aged leather satchel. "And, they had a gift shop there, so..." He held a mug out to the faunus. Glossy black, with a lineart panorama of Lago Del Sol's canyon walls etched across its entirety in amber. It was by far the least kitschy mug in the gift shop, and he figured if she didn't like its looks, it would at least have some practical use anyway.

"You got this for me?" she asked, cradling it in both hands.

"I thought you might like it." He closed his bag back up, and took to fiddling with the zipper. "If you don't, that's fine..."

"No no, I love it!" Moka assured. She looked over the simple gift- no more than ten lien- with a content smile. "Thank you! I've never been to Vacuo before. So if I have a mug from there, and I use it all the time, it's like I've been there but not really, right?"

Caspian gave a ginger, tentative nod as he attempted to take in her reasoning. "Uh... yeah. Makes sense." He nodded again. This one more firm, decisive. "Anyway, we should get down to business as soon as we can. Round Table?"

"Ooh, actually..." Moka grimaced. "The Roots is only open for a couple hours around dinner time right now. The school's taking this whole thing pretty serious."

"Man, I was so ready to have an actual Round Table meeting," Rowan bemoaned. "We're not even the Knights of the Round Table without it..."

Moka mumbled something under her breath as her face seized with an intent look and her eyes flitted across the group. A grin washed over her, and her composure made a complete overhaul in half a second. "Crimes!"

"Huh?"

"That is the reason we're meeting," Snow commented.

"No, it's like a team name!" Moka pointed to Caspian, Rowan, Ichigo, herself, then Snow, in turn. "C-R-I-M-S!" She looked to the team with her fists pumped up proudly at her sides before losing the pose and moving onto her next topic. "Anyway, there's a table in my dorm's common area. No one else is here for the Summer, so no one will interrupt us there!"

After an elevator ride and a couple turns down Moka's fourth floor hallway, Team CRIMS arrived at their meeting room. A couple of mugs left coffee-stain rings on the cheap plastic folding table, and a pile of binders and textbooks sat to one side of a futon next to it. One pillow matching its worn out blue fabric was unceremoniously discarded against the opposite wall, and another hung halfway off one of the table's seats. What little filled up the room was a bit of a mess, but it would do.

"Usually I'd start this with some announcement to kick off the meeting, but it's serious this time. Let's get into it," Caspian declared. "I've jotted down a few things we know about the case. We're up to four victims so far. All killed at their workplace in the early morning. Either way, they were killed by a single bullet to the head, and dragged somewhere they'd be found. It's like the killer's displaying them."

"It's that last part that really creeps me out," Moka commented. "And he's hitting public buildings. I'm afraid a hospital's going to be next..."

"That in itself seems like a motive of... some kind," Ichigo pondered.

"What would the motive be, then?" Rowan questioned.

Ichigo's glasses shifted as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I... don't know," he admitted. "It's like he's making a statement of some kind. Or just wants to make a name for himself maybe?"

Snow was silent.

"There's something else about these murders that strikes me as odd," Caspian continued. "They were all killed at their workplaces. Time of death estimates only vary a bit from case to case, they're all between midnight and four in the morning. The latest one makes sense. It was a nighttime security guard. And maybe the airport worker too. But the first couple murders were in a high-end department store and some IT company's corporate building. Not even just the murderer, no one should have been inside that time of night."

Moka tilted her head, and looked as if she had some trouble understanding. "Weird..."

"That, and there was no sign of a break-in in any of the cases."

"So the doors were unlocked?" Rowan guessed.

"Or the killer was already inside when they closed."

"He's hiding in places until night falls, killing one employee who's still there for some reason, then leaving before anyone else sees him?" Rowan summarized.

"As far as we know, yes. But whether he's hiding or just coming in through an unlocked door, there has to be security footage of him." Caspian looked to Ichigo, grabbing his attention over the top of his laptop's screen. "Do you think you could get your hands on it?"

"Yup. Depending on how secure they are though, it might take a few days." He pursed his lips and began mumbling to himself. "...Or, I could try getting into the police department archives, see if they have it. Could probably get some more spicy intel that way too..."

"That's our next move, then. I leave for Mistral Monday morning. When I'm back, we'll go over the footage, see if we can find anything out of the ordinary."

"I still think this is a bad idea," Snow asserted. "Besides. If the police already have CCTV footage, we won't make any progress by looking over the same evidence. There's no point."

"Even if they have the same evidence, I want to get a visual on the guy. See who we're dealing with," Caspian insisted.

"Imagine if we do get our hands on the security cam footage, and see something the cops didn't!" Rowan added. "Everyone will know about the group of Sentinel kids who found the killer police couldn't even identify!"

"That's not what this is about," Caspian reminded. Still, there was something acutely tempting about the pride and recognition that would come in finding the phantom haunting Port Cyrreine. He imagined it- the one who got into Sentinel by saving countless from a Grimm attack, and drove a ship set to explode away from the bridge before it detonated, catching a serial killer over Summer break. That would get people talking.

Lazula vastly preferred the balmy Summer air of coastal Vale to Vacuo's insufferable heat. She didn't mind being back home at all, really. Vacation was fun for the first few days, sure. And she had a lot of good memories from the park. But every year by about day three, the heat, nights spent in stuffy tents, and clouds of mosquitoes outlived their welcome.

Lazula and Lilly traded one beach park for another, on the edge of a rich suburb North of the city. To the left of the path, a gentle green slope dotted with picnic blankets. To the right, a steep bluff overlooking the ocean, crisscrossed by stairs and switchbacks. Every couple minutes, a jogger would pass the two by. Keeping fit. Training. Lazula remembered she hadn't touched Aegis and Impetus since the Red Claw's attack, and though she still kept in shape by keeping up with her runs- or swims, on vacation- she knew she must be getting out of practice.

"Can we rest a bit?" Lilly asked, nodding ahead to a bench just off the trail, facing away toward the water

Lazula agreed. They had been on the path for some time, but she still had energy to spare. Not everyone worked out for hours a day, though. Besides, the ocean splayed out in glorious blue all the way to the horizon. She might as well get a good look at it.

"Hey, Lazula?" Lilly prodded. "I've been meaning to ask you something."

Her tone didn't give much away, but still. Something about her phrasing, something about the way her gaze couldn't quite meet hers, or that her fingers had worked themselves into a fidgeting tangle let her know something was coming. Something she'd rather not discuss.

"...What is it?"

"Well... it feels as if something has been bothering you recently. Ever since the Red Claw... you know," she replied. "I... don't know many details about what happened on the bridge, but if there's anything you want to talk about..."

"I'm fine."

"Lazula, we've been friends our entire lives. You can tell me anything."

Lazula stiffened. "I said, I'm fine," she repeated, an edge growing in her voice. "And if you're going to ask any more questions, I'm leaving."

"I'm just... worried about you."

Lazula stood. With nothing but a flash of a glance at Lilly, she cut through the freshly trimmed, unnaturally green grass and returned to the trail.

Their nearest neighbor was the next bench over. Just out of earshot, but near enough to watch. He took a break from ruffling his dog's fur to cock his head over his shoulder with a goading smirk. "Bad date?"

Lilly's mouth hung open, the beginnings of any number of responses on the tip of her tongue. She closed it with a weak lip, and hung her head beneath her shoulders.

Lazula's glare cut through anyone who got in her way. Couples, bikers, joggers- even their dogs gave Lazula a wide berth as she left. Worry. Worry. The Indomitable Girl. Undefeated. Undefeatable. That's who she was. That's still who she was. She didn't need anyone to worry about her.

She'd have to get used to the voices. Get used to the night terrors. Get used to the image of that burned-out van, and the Beithyr's wheezing laughter tormenting her long after its death. Lilly worried about her. Her friends were probably talking already. She claimed she was fine, but if she didn't start acting fine, strangers would be next. Then the media.

The last thing she wanted was all of Remnant knowing The Indomitable Girl was currently in the process of losing her damn mind.