Feeling a little better after yesterday. Ironically, going to work helped as it stopped me having much time to think about it. Such a lost weekend that I was looking forward to work on Monday to escape it all. Crazy.

And I'm glad people liked the idea of the SDC as Marshall, Carter and Dark. For those not familiar with SCP lore, don't worry as you don't need to know anything at all. You were able to understand the basics that the Schnee family have been selling anomalies for profit, and that's all you need to know. More of them will be revealed later of course as they're no small antagonists from ARC Corp's point of view.

Cover Art: Kirire

Chapter 7

Jaune's warning that the perpetrator would go to ground might as well have been a prophecy. After their near capture at Blake's hands, they'd not so much as let out a peep through the rest of the day. No new room invasions, no indecent encounters and no floating underwear was seen. Sadly, that didn't mean they could just go home. Miss Goodwitch had provided them a list of people who had been affected, their room numbers and times they would be free to interview. It was a long list. It was also a pointless list. They knew what they were dealing with, why and what had to be done, but their cover as Private Investigators all but necessitated they play the role anyway. Jaune didn't seem to mind. He wouldn't. She could just imagine him saying `boring work is good work; it means we're not under any suspicion` with a smile on his face.

The list had been split between them and Blake was exhausted both mentally and physically by the time she got through hers. It wasn't that anyone had been bad or obnoxious, more that it was the same questions over and over, the same boring story, and she had to pretend to take notes and ask questions. And be asked questions. The first ten times someone asked if they were going to catch the person she understood, but the next twenty? Of course they were going to try. What did people think they were here for? By the end of it she was ready to spit hairballs, and the fact she and Jaune were called to meet with the teachers after didn't help any.

"Well." Miss Goodwitch said, with such an air of disdain that Blake wondered if Adam hadn't been right to want to kill all humans. "You've had your day. I trust there has been some success on your parts, no? You did say you were the best after all."

"Glynda…" Ozpin began. "I'm sure Mr Arc and Miss Belladonna are doing their best."

"I'm sure they are. And I'm prepared to judge them on their results and nothing else. So, have you any?"

If she wasn't fully aware how bad a lie would blow up in her face, Blake might have done so. If only to wipe the smug grin off the woman's face and that satisfied, vindictive glint out her eyes.

"Actually." Jaune said. "I know the person responsible."

Jaws dropped. Blake wasn't ashamed to say her own was among them.

"W-What!?" Glynda gasped, then coughed and gathered herself. "I… I see. That is… quite the claim. And who is it?" she asked. "Tell us and we shall apprehend them ourselves. Assuming you have evidence of course."

"Oh, I have enough evidence to send them down for a long time. The problem is I don't know who it is."

One of the other teachers with green hair interjected. "But you just claimed to."

"I said I know the person." Jaune corrected. He crossed his arms, his gloved fingers coming to rest on the insides of his elbows. "The problem is that even if we know their face, we don't know their name. They obviously weren't prepared to stand around and answer Blake's questions."

Her what now-?

"Is this about the interloper Miss Belladonna chased through the halls?" the large – well, grossly overweight, but he hadn't been as much a bitch as Goodwitch, so Blake would give him the benefit of the doubt and assume there was muscle under there – said. "I heard how you were able to get a hold of them but the slippery soul found a way out."

"Y-Yes." Blake answered. "They'd been in Team YWRN's room. I was able to chase them for a bit but they slipped away."

"To think they were right there listening to us." Glynda said, her irritation aimed at another for once. "It's sickening to think one of our students would take such perverse pleasure in this that they'd stay around to watch our reaction. I'm appalled by it all. You say you were able to see the person then?"

"I was indeed." Jaune said.

"How? By all accounts, this person has an invisibility Semblance."

"I saw them with my own." Jaune smiled proudly, while Blake struggled to contain her shocked expression. "My Semblance is an ocular one that allows me to see through any attempts to conceal information or evidence. No matter how much something is hidden, I can see it." He tapped a gloved finger beneath his left eye for emphasis. "I've never had a chance to use it this way before, but I was able to see the person as clear as day once I activated it. I saw their face perfectly."

"That's why Ozpin hired you for this case!" Glynda said, gasping in realisation and, Blake noticed, a little shame. The woman's face flushed a dark red as she rounded on her employer. "Why did you not say this, Ozpin? I'd never have doubted them if I'd known his Semblance was a perfect counter for the one behind all this!"

The headmaster shrugged one shoulder. "I apologise, Glynda."

"It's my fault." Jaune said. "I wanted it kept a secret."

"Ah, to tempt the perpetrator into stepping into your vision." The green-haired teacher slammed a fist into his palm. "A very clever ploy. Had we been told in advance, there was always the chance our criminal might have been listening in. Then they would never have used their Semblance around you. Instead, you let it be known you were coming here, knowing we would have to announce it to the students and trusting that the person responsible for all of this would let curiosity get the better of them."

"I guess that does make sense." Glynda said. "I apologise for having doubted you before. What do you want done now then? Should we gather the whole school in the auditorium and let you go through them one by one?"

Jaune shook his head. "No. I'm worried that'll cause a panic and that could be dangerous in a school full of huntsmen with weapons and Semblances. They're bound to run once they realise we're onto them and surrounded by all those people? It's a recipe for disaster. I'd like a list of every student in the school. Names and faces is enough – no private information is required if you're worried about legality. I just want a list to look through so I can put a name to the face. I'll bring that to you tomorrow morning and we can confront and arrest them before lessons start."

"I can provide that." Glynda said. "I'll have it sent to your scroll. Sir," she said to Ozpin. "If I may be dismissed, I can get onto that now. It'll take an hour or two to print off the student records, then make sure there aren't any personal or private details on them."

"Of course, Glynda. I shall leave it to you." Ozpin nodded and the woman hurried away, no longer doubtful of them. "And you, Mr Arc. Is there anything else you require?"

"A room for Blake and I for the night."

Blake's stomach dropped. "We're staying here!?" she hissed. The last thing she wanted was to be sleeping here at night with a criminal pervert capable of sneaking around school nearby. "Jaune. Seriously!?"

"We can't exactly go back to the office if they'll follow us, can we?" he replied. His eyebrows rose meaningfully, and she realised his point. If the person came back to the Containments Office and saw the anomalies there, or heavens forbid Timothy, then it would be a security breach the likes of which could expose everything. Blake grimaced, and Jaune nodded, pleased she'd figured it out. Ozpin too, most likely. "Yeah, we'll need a room here. Just one for the both of us please. I don't mind where it is."

"We have plenty of spare rooms ready with the Vytal Festival upcoming," the green-haired teacher said. "I can have one prepared for them and ask the janitors to go over and clean it quickly."

"Please do, Bart. Mr Arc, Bartholomew Oobleck will come find you and connect your scrolls to the key once the room is readied. Until then, would you care for a game of chess in my office?"

"I'll pass." Jaune said tightly. "Blake and I will eat in the cafeteria."

/-/

Blake was in a sour mood by the time they reached the cafeteria and the worst part was that it was no one's fault. That was a shame since she'd have liked to glare at the one responsible, and Jaune wasn't it. He offered to fetch them a tray of food each while she got them a seat. An offer she was grateful for, if only so she could slam her elbows down on the wooden table and sulk.

It wasn't Jaune's fault they had to stay the night and he was right to decide so. The Containments Office was just too dangerous to let someone who was already abusing an anomaly into. There was more than just the globe and the camera there, and Timothy. Jaune had a few other anomalies that he kept locked up in cupboards and drawers, usually padlocked, but still easily accessed if you forced your way in. The person who had the anomaly and was doing this presumably knew they existed – how else would they be using theirs? – but if they were dangerous now, they'd only become more so with access to others. It just wasn't something they could risk.

Still, staying here with an invisible person preying on women wasn't what she'd call a good night. At least I won't be in a room on my own, she thought. It was a dark day when she had to be grateful for sharing a room with Jaune of all people, but she'd take what she could get. Heck, I'd take Timothy right now… Blake pictured the thing laying webs over her and her bed to `protect` her, and then it wrapping her up in a cocoon, and shivered. On second thoughts. No. I'll take the pervert.

"Heeeey there." The familiar voice came followed by a clink and a scrape as a body settled down on the bench to her left. The girl from earlier smelled of cheap deodorant and water, likely meaning she'd come from a set of public showers after an exercise class of some kind. Yang, she recalled, meeting the girl's wide smile with a polite one of her own. "Someone looks glum. Beacon isn't that bad, is it?"

"It's not." Blake noticed the duo sit opposite her. Ren and Nora. She looked for the fourth and breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't see them.

Ren noticed it. "Weiss told us she was busy with family stuff."

"Which basically means she is all snooty and doesn't want to deal with us." Yang said. "Daily occurrence. Usually because Nora starts bouncing around too much and Weiss can only handle so much `happiness` in a day before needing to go set fire to an orphanage."

"She isn't that bad." Ren said. "If you didn't constantly rile her up…"

"It's part of the friend making process."

"And it's working oh so well," the boy said with an amused smirk.

"Ass." Yang flicked a pea off her plate at him, which the boy dodged with a quick lurch to the left. "It's called breaking through her icy exterior. If Weiss is too busy getting angry at me, she'll stop being so closed off. Nothing breaks down barriers like a good explosion, an angry right and a fight. That's the theory anyway."

"Is that always how deal with people?" Blake asked.

"No. I can be cool when I want to be." The girl winked. "Especially to suave and sophisticated private investigators."

Suave? I was a useless ghost hunter to you this morning…

"Is it true!?" Nora blurted out suddenly. The way her hands were shaking and she was bouncing in her seat, it looked like it'd taken an immense force of will to not say it earlier. "Is it true you've already found the person who's been breaking into rooms!?"

All around them, the sound of knives and forks on plates dimmed. The click and clinking stopped, and heads turned - some subtly, others not so much - to listen in. Blake cringed and shrank down on herself, shoulders hunching up.

"Nora." Ren said softly. "I expect that was meant to remain a secret."

"Oops."

"Yeah." Jaune said, arriving with a tray balanced on each hand. "Oops." He stopped to look around, boldly staring at each person looking back until they started to talk and go back to their own meals. It was much too late to stop the news spreading sadly. "Making friends, Blake?" he asked, sitting down. The tray he set before her featured a potato split open with butter and rich tuna flakes, for which her eyes lit up. "You're the team from before, right?"

"Yep!" Nora giggled. "Is it true, though?"

Jaune sighed. "Not much point hiding it now, is there? Yes, I've found the one responsible. However, I need to narrow their face down to match a name as I'm not from Beacon and don't know who anyone is."

"Need any help?" Yang offered. "I'd be down to tell you who it is if you describe them."

"I'd rather not risk me describing it wrong and then someone's reputation being destroyed."

"Ah." The girl leaned back. "Yeah, that's fair. Guess it'd be bad to accuse the wrong person. As long as they're caught tomorrow, then." Her scowl deepened. "When we were cleaning up, we found some our stuff missing."

Blake felt ill. "Your underwear?"

"Not only that." Ren said with an annoyed huff. "I'd lost dust and Weiss lost some lien she left out. This person isn't above helping themselves to whatever is on offer. We took your advice by the way. Weiss' suitcase has a passcode lock and we've stored our important belongings inside."

Wise. An old four-digit suitcase wouldn't prove much protection, but this person would struggle to get into that while people were around and it was better than nothing. Blake cut into her potato, humming happily as butter and fish juices ran out of it and mixed. It was as delicious as it looked and she hummed happily. Not blueberry muffin good, but close.

"So, what's it like at your office?" Yang asked Jaune while Blake ate. "Asking as a concerned elder sister."

"Our office is completely normal."

"Yeah? And what will Ruby be doing on her work experience there?"

"Totally normal things," he said evasively. "Obviously."

"P-Paperwork." Blake coughed as she offered a more believable excuse. She really needed to teach Jaune how to lie at some point. "S-She'll be doing paperwork. Case reports, filing, answering the phone. That kind of thing."

"Ah. Secretary stuff?"

"Yes."

"I mean, that sounds normal. I'm just… ahh." Yang slumped. "Whatever happened to Ruby wanting to be like her cool, big sister? Where did I go wrong?"

"Maybe you stopped being cool." Nora said.

"What!? I'm cool! I'm still cool. Right, Ren?"

"Obviously not as cool as these two," he replied. Yang looked stunned, pained and horrified, all in one go. "Don't worry, Yang, I'm sure someone out there thinks you're still cool. Impressionable young children, maybe?"

Yang turned a desperate eye on Blake. "You think I'm cool. Right?"

Caught, fish to mouth, Blake made an unintelligible sound and shrugged. "Mrbl?"

Apparently, that wasn't the response she wanted, and the blonde wilted like a flower dying without sunlight. When Nora reached over to pet Yang's arm and comment how "it'll be okay; you're just growing old and uncool, it happens", she whined and planted her face down on the table. Blake rolled her eyes.

"Don't give up." Jaune said suddenly. "You can still win Ruby over and convince her to become a Huntress like you."

Yang peeked out from the side of her position, face down. "Yeah?"

"I believe in you."

You just want Ruby out of the Containments Office so Ozpin doesn't become even more obnoxious, Blake thought. Alas, poor Yang didn't understand the politics she was being dragged into and cheered up.

"Yeah, you're right. I'll show her I'm cool. I'll show her being a Huntress is way cooler than being some stupid ghost hunter."

"Private Investigator!" Blake said quickly.

"I mean, we do moonlight as-" Jaune began, only to yelp as Blake drove her foot so deeply into his calf that his eyes watered. "I-I mean, yeah, private investigators. Definitely that and nothing else."

"Mr Arc. Miss Belladonna." The voice came from the man approaching, tall and with green hair. Oobleck, she thought his name had been. "I've prepared the rooms you'll both be using," he announced happily. "If you'd like to come with me after your meal, I can show you to them and key your scrolls into the locking system."

/-/

The room was functionally identical to the many dorms she'd seen that day. Four beds, even with just the two of them here, one window, some cupboards, drawers and an en-suite bathroom with a spacious shower. Blake would have liked to make use of that, if not for the fact an invisible stalker was around. Quite frankly, she'd be staying in her suit until they were far away from Beacon, and no one was going to convince her otherwise. If she started to stink, it'd just be a valuable repellent. Hopefully. There was no telling how utterly depraved this individual was.

"The lock can only be accessed via yourselves and Ozpin." Oobleck explained. "We've taken steps to ensure there won't be any other way in."

"Does the janitor not have a key?"

"Normally, they would, but we instructed them to wipe this room's from their systems. If we need to override it for any reason and Ozpin loses his, we'll have to remove the door."

It ought to be safe then. Blake let out a relieved sigh. The window was an entry point, but there was nothing to suggest the person could phase through solid objects, so as long as they locked it, it'd be fine. The intruder would need to shatter or cut the glass to get inside, and that'd be heard. "Thank you," she said to the man.

"No. Thank you. It does my heart good to know this will be done by tomorrow. I'm not normally one who resorts to anger, but I dare say I'll be at the forefront of wanting the one responsible locked up for a long time." Oobleck stepped back and bowed his head politely before leaving with a polite, "Good evening and a goodnight to you both."

Once the door clicked shut, Blake sighed. "What's with saying you had-"

"Now I go through this list and find the one we're after." Jaune said loudly and clearly. He had a huge wad of pages bound together by metal in a plastic binder-folder and was flicking slowly through them. "It might take a while, Blake. I'll have to identify the criminal in the school. The elephant in the room as it were."

Sucking in the question on the tip of her tongue, Blake's eyes widened. "Ah," she said, sounding much less certain and suddenly far more annoyed. Damn it, Jaune, she could have used an earlier warning than this. "And then we arrest them tomorrow?"

"Yes." Jaune slowly turned another page. "They've already lost. It's only a matter of time now. I dare say they'll go down for a long time for this. They may not have touched anyone inappropriately as far as we know, but the sheer amount of sexual assault cases, not to mention theft of property, will mean a good ten to twenty years. It'll be the end of the time in Beacon. That's for sure."

"Jaune."

Blake sighed angrily.

"Yes?"

"I absolutely despise you."

His lips curled up at the edges. "Yeah. That's fair."

"I'm going to go wash my face," she said as she headed for the bathroom. "You don't mind if I absolutely refuse to sleep tonight, do you?"

"I won't be sleeping either," he said. "Too risky."

Oh good – so Jaune was only prepared to completely fall asleep around potentially murderous spider anomalies. Good to know. To be fair, even she knew a person was more dangerous than an animal. Animals only killed when hungry or threatened, whereas people could be psychopaths. Letting herself into the restroom, she quickly eyed the corners and scowled. Nothing that could be seen.

I hate this. I thought I'd be used to dealing with anomalies by now, but at least I could see the house tyring to eat me alive. This is so much worse.

There were movies out there like this, horror mostly, and they often involved a person – quite often a woman because apparently fuck their chances of ever surviving a horror movie unmolested – looking into a mirror, then washing their face and looking back up to see someone stood there. Blake eyed the mirror as if it was responsible for all that, growling under her breath.

Turning the tap on, she wet her hands from a distance, then backed up so she was back to the wall and brought her wet hands up to rub against her face. First one hand on the left side, then one on the right, keeping at least one eye open just in case. No way in hell was she going to lower her face down toward the sink, bending over, when she knew what was going on here. She might as well crawl face first into a washing machine, stick her ass out and start crying for her `big brother` to come help. Yeah, I'm onto you, you creep. You're not getting a show out of me.

Washing one's face with one's hands wasn't that easy sadly, but she had time. Twelve hours until morning at least. It wasn't even eight yet. As such, she continued to splash her hands and then her face, all the while keeping her guard up, all the time with her ears twitching to the door, listening to Jaune flip pages one after another, grunt and occasionally say "not these ones" or "where are you". It was stupid, but it was a comfort to know someone else was there and aware.

Turning off the tap, Blake again avoided the accursed mirror and reached for the towel hanging from the rack. As she did, it slid and dropped to the floor, the end pulling out the thin metal hoop it had been resting over, to puff lightly onto the tiles as gravity took its cruel toll.

Blake's heart skipped a beat. Her nostrils flared. She let out a short, rapid breath and turned quickly, but not too quickly, wiped her hands on her black suit trousers and made her way to the door. All the while, she fought the urge to break into a sprint. The door was right there. All she had to do was reach it, open it and close it. Blake's hand trembled as she reached for the handle.

Fluffy pink cotton suddenly wrapped itself around her face, casting her in darkness.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Blake screamed.

She screamed because it was all she could do, and even then, it was choked off suddenly by the towel tightening around her throat. Her hands flew up to fight it, legs kicking out as her oxygen was cut off.

"BLAKE!"

The door slammed open – Jaune, bless him – sprinting through with an angry roar. He took in the scene, her leaning back, choking with a towel wrapped around her throat, and charged. Charged her! Jaune slammed into Blake's body in a tackle, picking her up and driving her back.

Not just her. Blake felt her back connect with something and felt the horrible sensation of being trapped between two men. Jaune kept pushing, driving forward and slamming them back against the back wall of the bathroom. Blake didn't connect, but something – someone – else did. There was a loud "Gah!" and Blake felt her body be cushioned, and then Jaune was pulling away, rushing back with her bent over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Looking up, she could see someone struggling with the shower curtain.

Jaune darted out the bathroom, tossed Blake unceremoniously onto the closest bed and shoved his hands back into the door, grasped the handle and slammed it shut, then braced himself pulling to keep it closed as someone impacted the other side and began fighting him to open it. Blake, having landed on the bed and currently in the process of ripping the towel from her neck and gasping for air, reached desperately for her scroll. They had the creep! Now all they had to do was call Ozpin and-

Ka-chunk!

The bathroom door was made of wood. This was probably not a big deal for most people, since the door was on the inside of the room and was only meant to protect one's privacy. Most people trusted their teams. It did, however, make it somewhat flimsy, especially to an invisible object of some sharp nature crunching trough and nearly cutting through Jaune's shoulder. The tell-tale crunch and crack of wood splintering told her it was more than just an arm being punched through.

"He's armed!" she yelled.

"I can tell!" Jaune shouted back. "Shit!"

He had to let go. Lacking aura, and with nothing to protect him, Jaune was one swing away from being decapitated. He jumped back, and it probably saved his life because the door splintered further down where Jaune's head had been, a new hole opening. The weapon, likely a sword but not guaranteed, was drawn back and the door was yanked inwards.

Blake was ready and already had the bedsheets flinging through the air to wrap around whomever it was. It would have been nice if they'd trapped them and that was the end of it, but the person already had a weapon out, and she wasn't surprised at all when the white sheets were cut through, ripping open down the middle. They still draped over the person, giving the faint outline of a human body and what was a longish weapon - three to four feet, straight, bladed. The invisible person pushed their way out of it as Jaune dove not for his own sword, but for a square, white packet. He landed, rolled and hurled the thing back with all the force he could muster.

The sword swished through the air and cut it in two, causing it to explode into a mist of fine white powder that spread out to cover almost half the room. Flour. Jaune had a packet of flour from the kitchens! As the person hacked and coughed, and as Blake covered her nose from the grainy smoke, she saw the powder stick to the person, coating them.

Then disappear.

Damn it! The plan had been good, but an anomaly that made a person and their weapon disappear was obviously doing the same for things like clothing and anything that stuck to them. Still, the floor was coated in white, and she could see where the person was by the areas that weren't covered. Gambol Shroud came up, safety clicking off, and Blake unloaded with a snarl, not even bothering to worry whether the person had aura up or not.

The shots impacted and sparked off something. They did have aura – more was the pity. It didn't stop her unloading an entire clip into them, each shot driving the invisible person back with grunt after grunt. Jaune followed up with another bag of flour, all but useless in her opinion, until she noticed that it did cling to the person at least a little before disappearing, and that it probably clung to them anyway. Invisible or not, it was uncomfortable and likely stinging their eyes.

The empty splotches that were the footsteps of the person suddenly dashed left, toward the window. Blake knew their plan even before the glass shattered, and she was on her way, shoes clacking on the floor as she darted after him.

"Second floor!" Jaune warned hysterically. "Second floor!"

"It's fine!"

Blake's foot caught the will and she was out and airborne, vaguely hearing Jaune shout "I don't have aura!" behind her. Oh. Right. It wasn't fine for him. There wasn't much time to despair her choice, however. The grass below impacted and her eyes widened at the splotches of white that splattered down onto it. Even before she landed, aura reinforcing her legs, she could see white footsteps painting away. Of course! Even if the flour was invisible on the person, once it fell or was shaken off, it wouldn't be the same. They were leaving a clear trail for her to follow.

And she followed it. Danger or no, no one – no one – ambushed her in a bathroom and lived. Blake Belladonna was many things; daughter, ex-girlfriend, terrorist and paranormal investigator to name a few. One thing she was not was a first victim in a horror movie cliché. If this monster wanted a piece of her, she'd give him one. He could get off on her fist breaking his nose.

Her breaths echoed in her ears as she chased the person across the lawns and out. Windows had opened, people drawn by the noise, and there were still some students out training. One girl with brown hair and sunglasses turned to look at Blake, only to be suddenly wrenched sideways and thrown in Blake's path against her will. The girl cried out, more shocked than hurt, curling up as Blake vaulted her and ran past the panicking rabbit faunus and her two male teammates who ran to the first's aid.

"Invisibility Semblance!" Blake shouted, as much to give an excuse for ARC Corp as to warn them of the danger. Jaune would probably want the excuses prepping early. "Invisibility Semblance! Everyone get out the way!"

The information spread. Credit to them, this was a school for huntsmen and huntresses and they didn't fly into a panic. The girl's team dragged her to her feet and out the immediate danger zone, others backed up, and more than a few drew weapons. They didn't intervene but they made clear their intention to defend themselves. Blake chased the white footprints onto a running track, where they suddenly stopped and stretched. A smear appeared on the floor ahead of her, a white streak as if the person was dragging one foot back or skidding to a stop.

Blake yanked her head back, bending almost double. Her black hair flapped forward, more than a few strands being caught. Movies would have had it that the sharp edge would cut strands. It didn't. It caught them and yanked them painfully from her scalp. Hissing, she drove Gambol Shroud under it and forward, stabbing to where the person was. The blade hit something and grated – aura, most likely. Rather than attack again, she brought her blade up in the direction the weapon had gone, catching the return and gasping at the pain that ran down her arm.

After that, though, she was on her own.

The first swing had been obvious, the return even more so, but now she was suddenly faced with an invisible enemy with an invisible weapon and the reality of it dawned. She had no idea where the next attack would come from. Blake pushed her weapon into a universal guard, centre body, only to lurch sideways as something struck under her ribs from the left. The sharp blade impacted aura and didn't cut through, but the suddenness of it and the lack of any preparation time winded her all the same.

The weapon's to the left. Block that way?

Gambol Shroud shifted in case of a follow up. A fist caught her jaw instead. Skin on skin – no gauntlets or gloves. Blake staggered back and ducked an expected sweep for her neck, only to be thrown sideways when her enemy predicted it and swept a foot low, catching her cheek and knocking her onto all fours. The desperate roll she threw herself into saved her from a downward swing that cast up a cloud of dust.

She'd underestimated how hard it was to fight someone she couldn't see. It wasn't that they were good and she bad, only that she couldn't defend. Even knowing where an attack came from, there was an instinctive tensing of the muscles in a normal fight that helped you take the impact. It was the tightening of your abs when someone punched you or the closing of your eyes to protect them. There was nothing here. Every blow she took was devastating, and even the blows she parried rocked her arms painfully.

I need to get the anomaly off him! If he loses his invisibility, he's outnumbered a hundred to one!

What, though? What was it? Clothing? Item? Jewellery? Weapon? Anomalies didn't make sense and didn't have to. It could have been an amulet around the person's neck or it could just as easily be a parrot on his shoulder or his shoelaces! There was no way she could just luck out and grab it.

"Blake!"

Jaune had made it. Finally. He came sprinting, likely having run all the way downstairs and outside, and he had his sword in hand. Not drawn, the weapon was still in its scabbard, but he carried it by the middle. He also had no aura.

"Stay back!" she shouted. "He's armed and dangerous!"

"I'm armed too!"

And not dangerous, she wanted to scream, but Jaune dashed out onto the track and swung his sword – swung it like a baseball bat. Blake didn't know if she should scream in horror or just scream at him in general. Predictably, his sword-bat struck something metal, likely the other person's sword. Jaune hadn't exactly been subtle in his attack. The weapon was swiftly pulled out of Jaune's hands entirely, where it floated oddly in the air.

Not, for some reason, invisible.

Blake thought that odd for a second but wasn't left much more time as Jaune's sword was hurled at her, forcing her to catch it. That left him defenceless.

"Jaune! No!"

"Whoah!" Jaune lurched back suddenly, dodging the invisible weapon. He then skipped back again, another striking hitting the running track. "Ah. Hup." Jaune did another quick hop and a skip back, reached under his coat and hurled another, smaller packet at the assailant. This one exploded like the flour, but instead of flour the contents sparkled red and blue in the air.

Dust. Refined, manufactured dust.

The sparkling dots that formed Remnant's energy and fuel clung to the figure and this time didn't vanish. It was subtle, a shimmering that looked like glitter more than anything, but it remained visible and outlined both the person and the weapon – a sword as she expected. The person swung it at Jaune's face, but this time he saw it and ducked under, then stepped forward and drove his palm up and into the bottom of the man's weapon, driving up on the pommel. To Blake's surprise, the huntsman's weapon was knocked clean out his hand and sent flipping into the air, winking into existence as a straight-edged sword.

Jaune then thrust forward with his other hand, slamming his palm into the person's chest. There was an odd sound like a ringing bell, hollow and echoing, and a… not a flash of light, but an inversion of it, like light being sucked out the air around them. The invisible figure gasped, but if Jaune thought himself a martial arts master capable of launching the foe away with a palm strike, he was proven wrong very quickly. The figure decked Jaune in the face and sent him spiralling down into the grass.

It didn't matter, though. Jaune had done his part. Blake could see the person and she could see something else, too. The weapon had been in their right hand, but there was something else in the left; something that the glittering dust had stuck to and outlined. She didn't have a complete picture of what it was because the dust only clung to the edge that had faced Jaune when he threw the packet of dust, but it was blocky, square, and not something the person had swung even once as a weapon. Odd for them to carry it but carry it they did, which rang all the alarm bells in her head.

Got you!

While the person ran for their weapon, Blake charged them. As she did, she felt an odd sensation – as if she were growing lighter and faster. Something white glimmered beneath her feet for a second, twirling under her. It was gone as soon as it appeared, but she felt the difference and reached the enemy long before he could catch his weapon. Her foot caught his stomach, her weapon coiling around his left arm, the ribbon tightening and pulling taut.

Such was the momentum from her unnaturally accelerated charge that she drove all the air out the person. The last time, they'd used the anomaly to escape her. Not this time. With their left arm trapped, Blake drove the blade of Gambol Shroud right down into their wrist with all her might, expecting to break their grip and release the anomaly.

It was released alright – though the person kept hold of it in a way. Their hand clung on, while their severed wrist flopped down on the track and their body – suddenly becoming visible – fell back, face pale and eyes and mouth open wide. The person screamed, collapsing on their back clinging their severed arm to their chest. They'd run out of aura. How-? No, it didn't matter. Ignoring the person, Blake leapt for the anomaly.

The bleeding hand was clinging onto the handle of what appeared to be a small briefcase. Little, only about a foot tall by a foot wide, almost more the size of a lunchbox, but leather with bronze clips making it a little too fancy for that. Blake reached for it, only to freeze an inch away. If it made her invisible in front of all these witnesses, that'd be bad. Thinking quickly, she tore off her suit jacket and threw that on top, bundling it up inside and picking it up without touching it. Thankfully, that was enough to stop it working on her.

"Good job." Jaune panted as he jogged over. She had a feeling he was complimenting her as much, or even more, for realising she shouldn't touch it as he was for disarming the assailant. His cheek was bruised, but he didn't look upset about it. "Keep that hidden," he whispered. "Remember, this is their Semblance. Nothing more."

"Got it."

"What is going on here!?"

The teachers came running, no doubt drawn by the gunfire, fighting, shattering glass or any one of a hundred other things. Of course they came too late to be of use. Miss Goodwitch and Mr Oobleck looked toward the downed person, but Ozpin – Ozpin looked directly at the bundled cloth in Blake's arms. It was such a focused and intense expression on the man's face that she felt uncomfortable and hugged it closer to her chest. His eyes rose to meet hers, then flicked away. Blake let out a sharp breath as the spell was broken.

"This is the one responsible for breaking into the rooms and stealing women's underwear." Jaune said proudly, and loudly. He was determined to sell the story quickly before any unfortunate rumours could crop up. Unfortunate rumours like the truth. "Using their invisibility Semblance, they were able to go about undetected. We lured him to us and Blake caught him." He slapped a hand on the back of her white shirt, rocking Blake on her feet. "You're welcome."

Jaune's declaration was so ballsy and brass that some in the crowd of students clapped. The teachers did not, though they didn't look too angry either. Glynda and Ozpin approached the injured student, still dressed in a Beacon uniform, and stood on either side of him. Oobleck and Port were quick to usher the other students away, while Blake and Jaune approached.

"Well?" Jaune asked. "Recognise him."

"No." Glynda said, confused. "I don't… Ozpin…?"

"I don't believe I've ever seen the…" he hesitated. "Boy? Girl? I've never seen them."

/-/

Weiss Schnee allowed herself to be ushered away with the other students, sparing one last glance for the teachers huddled around the person, with those two from ARC Corp brazenly standing nearby. Her eyes narrowed on the bundle in the girl's arms, but she looked away. It wasn't theirs now. The sales records had come in. An item capable of hiding one's presence and identity had been sold, much to Weiss' dismay, and to someone in Vale no less. Klein had found the records at no small risk to his own safety if mother or Winter ever found out. The records were clear, the sale present, but the name of the buyer had been blurred out.

Not, she knew, by anyone within the Schnee family. The name had once been written clear as day, but the ink had become smudged, the name faded, and no amount of staring at the photo Klein had taken would ever reveal it.

"I did my part," Weiss muttered, turning away. The girl wouldn't have made it in time without her. "It's not my business. I'm here to become a Huntress, nothing more. Have a free one this time, Arc. The next will cost you."

/-/

Blake stared through the one-way mirror at the… person sat in the padded cell. They sat in the centre, dressed in orange, untied and on their knees, staring blankly at the closest wall. There was no emotion on the person's face. At least, she didn't think there was. The face was… difficult to look at.

"So," Blake said. "Who is it?"

"No one." Jaune said immediately.

"What do you mean?"

"He – she? It? – is no one." He shook his head as if to clear his own thoughts, and the frown that appeared on his face looked frustrated. "Ozpin and Glynda can't find any record of the person. No one in Beacon can recognise them. I can't even tell what gender they are. Can you tell me what their hair colour is?"

Blake stared. "Do they even have hair?"

"I've no idea."

Blake looked, and her eyes saw, but no matter how hard she tried her mind could not perceive anything. It was like trying to stay upright on a frozen lake. She knew the information was there, knew it was in her head, but no matter how hard she tried to focus on it, it just couldn't be done. Her feet would slip, skating away along with her attention until she started noticing how orange their jumpsuit was, or the regulation code on their back – inmate 61405. Blake tried to drag her eyes back to the face only for them to slide over again. It wasn't like she didn't know a person was there. She could see their hands, body and neck, but the face… The face might as well have not existed.

"It should have been as easy as taking register and seeing who's missing." Jaune said. "But Ozpin can't find anyone that is. There should also be a team of three that's suddenly missing a member, or an empty bed or too many belongings in one room, but there isn't. Or if there is, no one can notice it, not even the team that doesn't have a fourth member. The same for all the missing belongings. The school records show no one absent, the school database shows no one missing. If we could find their parents and ask them who their child was, I've a feeling they'd tell us they don't have one. That they never had one."

"No one." Blake said. "They've become no one."

"Those who abuse anomalies rarely understand the cost. He – they – wanted to use this one to go unnoticed so they could make Beacon their playground. Well, they've got their wish. No one can ever notice them now. The anomaly didn't hide them; it slowly stole who they were. Took away the one thing that everyone, no matter how rich or poor, has. An identity. An existence. If he'd been allowed to keep using it, I think he'd have vanished entirely. His physical form stolen as well as his, and everyone else's, memories of him. He'd have simply ceased to be. In a way, that would be a mercy compared to now. At least then he wouldn't feel anything. Now? He's no one – nothing – and that includes to himself." He frowned. "Or herself."

"That's sad…"

"It is." Jaune sighed. "The anomaly will have to be locked away."

"Shouldn't we destroy it?"

"Containments Office, Blake."

"I know, but… this isn't like the Guardian Weaver, is it? This is ridiculously dangerous. If someone gets hold of it or steals it from us…" It wasn't worth thinking about. "I think it would be safer to destroy it."

"It absolutely would, and my father would certainly agree with you, but if we destroy this one for what other people might do to it, then why don't we destroy the globe? The camera? Timothy? They can all be dangerous if they're driven to it, right? Where do we draw the line?" Jaune stared at her. "Should we destroy every anomaly just because it's scary? This one is dangerous in the wrong hands, but it's not sapient. It didn't ask to be used this way. Is it right or fair to kill it?"

"I… I guess not…" She didn't like it, but he had a point. If they were going to destroy it for being used like this, they should destroy every anomaly, and then they wouldn't be the Containments Office. Blake looked back to the briefcase – which was now ironically resting inside a larger, metal briefcase. It was open, the black leather settled among purple velvet cushioning. "What shall we call it?"

"I was thinking of something poetic like Nothing because that's what it brings a person down to, but then that would confuse any ARC Corp employees who need to deal with it later." It might even convince them there was nothing to worry about, and that'd be a nasty surprise for the poor person to open it. "We'll call it The Blank Slate."

"It fits." Blake said, with a sad look back at the cell.

"There's more." Jaune brought out a magnifying glass that she trusted was not anomalous. He leaned over, angled it and then motioned for her to take a look. "See anything down under the handle? Imprinted into the leather."

Blake looked. There was a spot that was pressed in, darker than black somehow, and she realised it was that way because it had been burned, or branded, into the leather. Likely by a hot poker or stamp. Taking the glass from Jaune's hand, she peered as close as she could without touching it. "Is that the Schnee snowflake?"

"Yes." Jaune said. "Yes, it is." He took the magnifying glass back, closed the larger, protective briefcase and clipped it shut. He gave the wheels a good spin to mix the code before picking it up. "Let's get back to the office and make sure Ruby hasn't fed the mailman to Timothy or aged herself two years with the camera. We'll deal with this later."

Blake nodded and walked after him, only too happy to be out the mental asylum with the doors clicking shut behind them. In the cell behind them, no one stared blankly at the padded walls.

And tried desperately to recall a time when they were someone.

Oof. So, who was it? It was no one. Simple as. You'll never be told which student it was because that student no longer exists, though you can piece together who it was not by measuring their presence in this and future chapters. Also, I'm going to trust it was super obvious to most but I know it won't be to all, so I will explain it here.

No, Jaune does not have an ocular Semblance. It was a lie he told (that both Blake and Ozpin realised was bogus) because Jaune figured out that the person would likely be in that room listening to them right then and there, because they would want to hear what the investigators looking for them would report to the teachers. Jaune put on the act, and Blake realised and trusted him enough to stay quiet on it, so that the person would feel panicked and be forced to act to try and get rid of them before Jaune could go through the student records and find who it was. That's also why it was allowed to conveniently "leak" to the students and how Nora knew. The rumour was allowed to spread.

Why was this not explained in story? Well, why would they explain it? It would have been really cliché and silly for Jaune to go "Ahah! Now that my plan has worked, I shall explain how my plan worked!" like some Scooby-Doo character. That's fine in children's cartoons but this is fiction and Jaune isn't going to explain something that doesn't need to be explained. I honestly reckon most people reading figured it out themselves before reaching this point anyway. Can't have a Semblance without aura, so Jaune couldn't have had a Semblance.

ALSO! Surprise – surprise, but there was a second anomaly in this and the last chapter. If you put together some facts revealed here (that clash with what happened last chapter) you might be able to figure out what the anomalous item in question is – though you won't yet know what it does, as it wasn't being used. Don't worry if you can't figure it out. It's not integral to plot or anything; it's just a fun little easter egg. Well, actually, there were three anomalous items in total, but one of them is fairly obvious and will be revealed later if you haven't noticed it already, but there's also a "more" secret one. Actually, there were four. Man, the more I think, the more I realise how many there are – but half of them are Reality Class anyway. You know what, screw it. There were quite a few. Have fun.

Next Chapter: 30th May

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