No mental instability on my end this chapter – that's nice. I've been very relaxed last few days as no work due to easter holidays, so I've been finding it very easy and even relaxing to rite. Getting more sleep, more exercise, feeling in a better mood. It's making me consider moving toward quitting my job at the end of this year. We'll see, but I've just been in a much better place from a wellbeing pov when I'm not chained to a desk 9-5 stressing out managing a company as well as having to do my writing on the side.

Anyway, reminder, no update next week due to my week's rest.

Cover Art: Kirire

Chapter 50

It was funny how things came full circle.

Blake was sat in an all-too-familiar uniform with an all-too-familiar mask cradled between her hands. The grey pants and lighter vest of the White Fang was something she'd worn plenty of times before when she was younger, but she'd really thought she would be putting all that behind her. And yet here she was, on one of several APCs quietly rumbling their way through a forest to reach the drop-off point a solid distance away from the Schnee manor.

Jaune sat on her left, Pyrrha on her right, and the rest of them in the truck were agents and employees of ARC corp. It wasn't lost on her that Jaune was made to sit with the "help" rather than his family, but he probably preferred it this way. Blake also didn't miss the considering glances Pyrrha sent her and wondered whether the redhead now saw her as a potential threat to be dealt with. So be it. Blake certainly saw Saphron as one.

The vehicle slowed to a stop and the back doors hissed open. Twelve people in total stepped out onto a light dusting of snow, boots crunching through it. If she was glad for anything about her old uniform, it was the insulation. Her fancy suit wouldn't have done much to keep her warm this late at night in such harsh weather. People were already donning their masks, and she did so after a moment's hesitation.

It felt as though there should have been some transformation or unsettling weight when the mask fell into place, but there was none. It was a little cold, a little heavy, and a little uncomfortable. It's just a mask. I'm not falling back on old mistakes putting it on. I need to stop being so dramatic. They weren't even White Fang, nor terrorists. They were ARC Corp, and they had a job to do.

A job very similar to what the White Fang would want.

Ugh. Now I'm reaching.

"You're the perimeter crew," Jaune told the assembled agents. "Most of you will be keeping a good distance from the fighting and arresting anyone who tries to escape. They should be unarmed so just make them sit still. But remember – you're White Fang. No mention of ARC Corp, what we do, or why we're here. Stay calm and you will be fine. You're dealing with people here, not anomalies, so tonight should be easy."

For them. Her and Jaune would be delving deeper into the manor with Pyrrha, then rendezvousing with Coral. The four of them delved the vaults, labs, or whatever it was the SDC kept their anomalies in. It was decided Pyrrha would come along in case Winter holed herself down there. Apparently, she was that capable, and Saphron was positive she could hold her own. More like Saphron wanted Pyrrha there to put Jaune down if anything happened. Blake scowled at her out the corner of her mask.

They made their way forward slowly, occasionally glimpsing others in the woods. Eventually they came in sight of the manor, the tall building visible over a wall topped with spikes and dotted with cameras. Jaune's comm device buzzed and he whispered into it quietly, before bidding her and Pyrrha stay while he made the agents flank out and cover the entrances. Anyone fleeing would be doing so out the gates, so it wasn't like they had to form a whole circle with a dozen people. It was doubtful any servants or employees would be climbing the spiked walls, and it was honestly fine if they did. As long as they brought back news that the "White Fang" did all this, that was fine. It was more for their own safety as anyone running into the woods was at risk of dying to the Grimm.

"Excited?" asked Pyrrha.

"Not really." Blake eyed the redhead warily. "Are you?"

"A little, yes. We have no idea what anomalies are down there but there are bound to be a lot. We'll be putting a stop to them before they can fall into the wrong hands. Like this, we'll deal a huge blow against the anomalous."

"The anomalies don't want to be down there, you realise. They didn't ask to be kept as slaves and sold off. You're not thwarting their dastardly plans when it's human greed that led to this. They and the Schnee are not on the same side."

Pyrrha ignored her. Blake scoffed and watched Jaune return. He was gripping his sword tight. "Director Nicholas and Associate-Director Saphron are beginning their attack," he reported. "We're to wait for it to begin before entering. Mostly so I don't catch a bullet."

Blake nodded. And waited. It didn't sound-

An explosion cut through her thoughts, followed by a thick plume of black smoke and the staccato of gunfire. Immediately after, an alarm began blaring. It was more familiar to her than the others, many of whom tensed and looked about nervously. Jaune noticed and quickly waved his hand. "Stay calm. You're not entering combat. Remember, your job is to catch people leaving so they don't run into the forests and die to Grimm. You're in next to no danger."

Aside from the Grimm that might be drawn to investigate, but she wasn't about to point that out. The sounds of gunfire had already grown fainter and entered the building proper, which made sense. The SDC's security forces would be tasked with defending their hosts, not fighting a pitched battle outside in the snow. That was their cue as it meant little to no chance of pitched battle in the open areas where Jaune was most vulnerable. She and Pyrrha could cover him in the corridors.

Pyrrha moved. "Let's go."

She and Blake still covered him just in case, loping slowly – for huntresses – across the snow-coated lawns to the main entrance. There were some people already there, holding the entrance to catch escapees but also to wave them in.

Coral was among them, standing with her hands in her pockets and a large rifle slung over her back. Much more worrying were the numerous odd items strapped across her body, many of which made no sense unless you assumed they were anomalies. A book, a pencil case, a strange keyring with what looked like human fingers on it, and a plastic barcode scanner that wouldn't have been amiss at a supermarket checkout. The agents didn't look afraid, but that meant they were probably hers, and as such as insane as she was. Pyrrha kept a much healthier distance.

"Hello," greeted Coral. "Welcome to the Schnee manor. You've joined the tour part for the deepest and darkest depths of the manor. Please always keep your hands and legs inside of the vehicle."

Jaune ignored her joke. "What's the situation?"

"Our dear father and sister have split up and pushed into the main building proper. The security has fallen back to defend the Schnee family on the second and third floor, which is where the fighting is heaviest."

Holding staircases and elevated positions was just common sense, so Blake didn't blame them. It played into their hands here however, as their goal was to access the basements. She imagined most of the security wouldn't even know about those.

"How are we to find what we're looking for?" asked Pyrrha. "I doubt it's going to be neatly signposted."

"I have my ways."

/-/

Coral's "ways" involved a lot of heavy explosives, the floor, and an impromptu tunnel they created down into the basement level from the main hallway. The first hole they opened wen straight into a containment cell. There was a wooden bookshelf stood in the middle of a room, not moving. Coral quickly backed away and judged the position of the door for the next hole, and they blew their way down into a corridor that was brightly lit with fluorescent light.

The floor was metal, the walls solid concrete, and more metal doors locked off rooms on the right and left, each labelled with a code. Outside each was also a small container with a folder and documents pushed inside, representing the anomaly within. Coral snatched the one off the container they'd accidentally opened and browsed through it.

"The anomaly is the bookcase itself, not the books. It's… huh. Nothing too special here. It can store a theoretically infinite number of books, and you can get any you've stored by reaching into it and thinking of the book. That's convenient. Looks here like they've done quite a bit of testing to make sure it's harmless." She flipped a page and grimaced. "Quite a bit of testing. Oh dear. I don't think the Director is going to like this."

"What is it?" asked Jaune.

"Ahem. Test number 112. Subject: M. Stone. Subject was instructed to place hand and arm into shelf and think of his wife – Subject Rouge Anne. No result. Subject instructed to place hand and arm into shelf and think of his father (deceased 20 years prior). No result. Finally, subject was instructed to place hand and arm into shelf and think of Subject M. Stone (himself). Subject was sucked into the bookshelf with sharp scream cut off. When asked by subsequent subject for M. Stone, the bookshelf provided book made of human tissue and hair, with words written in blood detailing what is believed to be Subject M. Stone's life in the form of a biography. Recommendation: Anomaly is viable and valuable, especially in forms of interrogation. Of significant potential value to criminal elements or law-enforcement."

Jaune swore. Pyrrha growled and looked back at the door.

Blake just felt cold. Test 112 suggested a lot of testing, and that was probably the case for every anomaly here. Human testing. No. Faunus testing. It was so obvious. The SDC always offered work for faunus and there were a suspicious number of cave-ins and Grimm attacks taking out the dust mines. The White Fang had always believed it was the SDC cutting corners on safety but knowing that dust didn't come from mines at all made it clear that wasn't the case. The faunus workers weren't being killed in industrial accidents. They were being thrown at anomalies to see how safe they were. Or how safe they weren't.

"I know what you're thinking but it's relatively harmless and quite useful," said Coral. "As long as you're not stupid enough to think of yourself, this could be an ideal way for ARC Corp to store information we can't afford to get out. Think of all the uses!"

"It preys on humans!" snapped Pyrrha.

"It isn't preying on anyone. Humans are forcing others into it. It's not the same."

"You-"

"Stop," said Jaune, stepping between them. His face was cold. "We're not here for this, nor to discuss it. The final decision will rest with the Director. Our job is to locate All Becomes Dust and secure it, and to make sure they can't unleash any actively dangerous anomalies."

Coral drew and released a breath. "Yes. You're right. We need to find the control room."

The three of them trekked down the corridors in silence, but that was only because they were all too distracted. While all the cells were locked tight, many had glass windows looking inside. Some were reinforced with bars, but not all, signalling less dangerous – or just less mobile – anomalies within.

Blake caught sight of a single high-heeled boot on a pedestal with a "do not touch" sign hanging underneath it. There was a television set that was blaring out static in one room despite the power cord quite obviously hanging on the wall nearby not plugged in. There was a door with a warning sign on and earmuffs on pegs beside it, and within flitted a tiny yellow bird inside a wire cage. It spotted them and smashed into the metal cage, rocking the entire thing, and threatening to topple it off the table it was balanced on. Blake ducked her head and kept going.

Eventually, they reached an "employees only" door. Blake had to shake her head at the sign, and the implied suggestion there might be random visitors down here. Jaune tried it and rattled the handle. It didn't open. He then slammed his shoulder into it, but the door was quite heavily reinforced, likely to keep those inside safe in the event of a containment breach.

"Here," said Coral. "Let me." Kneeling, she brought out the keyring with human fingers that Blake had seen earlier and pressed one of them against the lock. The finger creaked, moving, and then squished itself into the lock in a disgusting fashion. It turned, unlocking it with a click, and then turned to ash. Coral brought the keyring back and counted the remaining fingers. "Only five left. It's a shame but this is worth it."

Pyrrha looked alarmed but also interested. "Can it be… restocked…?"

"No. I've tried offering it the fingers of dead bodies. Even tried offering my own." She chuckled. "It's useful, no? Do you want it?"

"No."

"Hah. Liar." Coral hooked it back on her belt alongside the other anomalies. "The Secrets Office knows the value of the anomalous. And it's not always in destroying them. Let's have a look what the SDC have to offer, shall we?"

The room was remarkably mundane, even office-like. There were desks and computers, screens, and chairs and even a coffee machine balanced on a table with several cups underneath it. Coral walked over to the main control panel, which reminded Blake of one of those DJ sets with hundreds of little buttons to push and dials to slide up and down. Above it was three screens, but in the corner of each was a small number to represent the rooms the screens were looking at.

Coral flicked through a few, flashing over cells that were uniform in shape and design. Each had an object in the centre. A two-litre bottle of soda, a child's colouring book, a set of silver cutlery, the bookshelf from earlier, an entire sports car in red with flames up the sides that seemed to be moving and flickering in real time. There were a lot. Coral sped up the flicking to the point that they couldn't make out details, just to see how many there were.

"There has to be over a hundred here," said Blake. "How do they have this many without being caught? Where are they finding them all?"

"Money speaks," said Coral. "Between reporting something to us and having us deal with it or reporting it to the SDC for them to deal with and pay you, I expect the answer is obvious."

"But the general public don't know about anomalies."

"The governments do. As corrupt as they are, you can bet your behind they'll slide a few reports the SDC's way for some change. Both us and the SDC keep them secret, so it's not like they're putting themselves in danger. The money must be good." Coral tapped the table. "Let's hope the SDC kept detailed records. That'll be fun. And-oh. Oh dear." Coral sighed again. "The Director is going to be even unhappier at this."

"What is-?" Blake leaned in. "No. No way!"

People.

People in cells.

Faunus.

"Are they anomalous?" asked Pyrrha.

"I can't tell from here," said Coral, "but I'm going to go with no. They're already using test subjects and they'll need to be kept somewhere."

"We'll know for sure when we find them," said Jaune. "The anomalies thus far have all had record sheets detailing the tests outside. If these are prisoners kept for testing, then they'll have similar documentation."

"We have to help them!" hissed Blake.

"We will." Jaune grabbed her arm and held on just in case she was about to go chasing after them. "But releasing them now when there's an active battle upstairs won't help them. I know it's hard to believe, but they're safe. For now."

Blake seethed but nodded. He was right, and as horrible as it was, they could last an hour or two longer in those cells. She forced herself to sit, still shaking, so Jaune would let go of her. This was so much worse than she'd imagined. It was almost enough to make her think that maybe the White Fang had been right. What if Adam had been right too? They never found out what was on that train. A dust shipment, they said. Was it really that? What if it had been anomalies destined for testing?

Or… no…

What if it had been prisoners to be used as test subjects? What if she and Adam had intended to blow up faunus…?

"This is going to be a mess," said Pyrrha. "They're going to come out telling everyone what they've seen. How are we going to keep them quiet about anomalies? There are too many of them. Even assuming none of them know what the anomalous is, they'll talk about the SDC keeping them prisoner, and then everyone will want the SDC investigated."

She had better not be suggesting it would be best for them all to die. Blake opened her mouth to say that but then stopped herself. Her emotions were high, and she was looking for a fight. No one had suggested killing them and Pyrrha's question was a valid one.

"We'll work something out," said Jaune. "Keep looking, Coral. We need All Becomes Dust. If we can even tell what it is when we see it."

"That's the problem," said Coral, flicking through more cameras. "Looks like there are ten rooms of faunus here. Two to a room. Twenty in total. There are more empty rooms. They must have finished with some live tests before we arrived. The cameras are looping now. This is all of them I can access from here." She stood and let the terminal go. "We'll need to look on foot."

"Let me check on the fight first," said Jaune. He moved a small distance away to make the call. "Jaune here. We've located the lab and the control terminal but haven't yet found the priority anomaly. What is the situation up there?"

Still hot by the sounds of the gunfire, but Blake waited for the person he'd called to finish responding.

"What of the Schnee members? Have they all been located? You have Willow and Jacques!? Ah, no. Okay. Pinned down. I see. Do we have eyes on Winter Schnee?" Jaune's face blossomed into a smile. "We have eyes? Please confirm. Winter Schnee is accounted for?" A quick response. "Excellent. We'll commence on foot and search the facility. Jaune out."

He hung up and turned to them with a pleased smile. "Winter, Willow, and Jacques are accounted for. They haven't been caught yet and they're holing up their security and fighting back, but we have visual confirmation that they're all up there. Whitley Schnee has been captured alive. We're safe to search this place without fear of interference."

"Finally, some good news," said Pyrrha. "One of us should stay here to make sure no one comes down and tries to unleash the anomalies. I suggest myself. I'm more capable of fighting off any enemies that might arrive."

Coral chuckled. "Are you sure you trust me with access to All Becomes Dust?"

"To be frank? No. I do not trust you. Associate-Director Saphron does, however, and I have my instructions."

"So cold," said Coral. "So cruel. I am not sure I should trust you with my darling little brother either, but needs must. Come, Jaune, let us explore."

/-/

It was a fifty-fifty on whether the direction those chose would take them deeper into the facility or back to the exit, and Jaune's decision to go the opposite way they'd come from proved the right one. As he expected, they walked through blast doors heavier than those before, and suddenly there were no windows into the containment cells. No weak points. Signs warned against all entry, against eye contact, against touching, against existing within a room.

The knowledge of all that was bought with blood, she realised. They'd tested each one of the anomalies. Not even for some great reason or because "sacrifices were necessary" but because they wanted to know which could and couldn't be sold off. It was for profit. The richest company in the world needed more.

Or maybe it was for the fun of it all, as Jaune had long suspected. They were rich enough already, so perhaps this was just the curiosity of the wealthy. Or, given what they knew now, it might all have been in pursuit of the same power Jaune had. Maybe this was all to try and figure out how to safely mimic the transformation.

All these lives lost so a few rich and powerful people can be even stronger.

Blake wished she could say that surprised her, but it really didn't. The majority had suffered for the minority for what must have been hundreds of years now. Those in power wanted more, and those without had too much to worry about to care for this. As long as you weren't the ones being thrown to the monsters, you'd accept it.

If it meant cheaper dust, then what did anything else matter?

As long as people's comfortable lives weren't upset too much, they'd accept anything. She knew this because they'd gladly accepted the idea of unsafe faunus labour. It was the same throughout history. Why pay more for clothing when you could have it made in a sweatshop? Why spend more than you had to on a bar of chocolate when you could have it bought from poor farmers in the remotest parts of the world who would part with it for a pittance? It's not me, it's not my fault, I'm not the one who decides. It was always the same excuses.

The populace would scream and cry bloody murder if they knew the truth of what the SDC were doing here, but they'd also secretly wish they never knew, and that it could go back to how it had always been, if the alternative was to raise the price of dust.

"You're off the cameras now," reported Pyrrha. "Looks like you're headed in the right direction. What do you see?"

"More closed-off rooms and cells," said Jaune. "More warning signs. It looks like this area is off-limits to most, but it's still maintained."

There was muffled noise from nearby rooms. Banging and voices. Coral walked over and took the documents from the holder by the door and then brought them back. She flicked through them and said, "They're not anomalies. It's as I thought – they're faunus taken from mining camps. It looks like some of them have already been through a few tests already. That's going to be difficult to explain away."

"Maybe they'll take jobs with us. It'd make things easier." He touched his scroll. "Did you hear that, Pyrrha? We've found the holding pens for the test subjects. The documents here suggest they're perfectly normal."

"Curious that they'd keep them so deep in the facility when it would be easier to hold them close to the entrance. Does the corridor continue?"

Jaune looked. "One last door at the end." The final door was in the centre of the corridor and was surrounded by warning signs. Do not enter, no entry permitted, no unauthorised access and more. "It's not something they want anyone going inside. I've got a feeling All Becomes Dust is in there."

"Are you going to enter…?"

"Of course," chirped Coral. "Our job is to secure All Becomes Dust. That isn't going to happen if you don't at least get visual on it…" Coral's voice was teasing, childish, as if she were trapping them in a word game. They all knew she was right. She reached for the door and pushed the button, opening it with a whoosh.

Jaune clicked his scroll onto video and held it out as the door opened. To their surprise, the interior was unlike the other containment cells. It wasn't even manufactured at all. Instead, the floor gave way to solid rock, the walls too, and they found themselves before a tunnel carved out of tone leading under the manor. There were lights on the walls, but they were hung by black wires and trailed along connecting back to the door. Little lanterns draped unevenly on both sides of the tunnel like a spelunker might have left behind.

The air was warm. Unusually warm, like hot breath, but the walls weren't organic. The first thing Blake did was draw her weapon and try to work it into the wall to test for flesh and blood under stone. It didn't bleed or make noise however, and the rock felt cool to the touch. It was the air that was warm from something breathing deeper within.

"I don't think the Schnee manor being built here was random chance," said Jaune. "It looks like they found the anomaly first and built the manor on top of it. That suggests it might be too big to move. Or too dangerous," he added, drawing a breath and stepping into the tunnel. If he was content to risk her life then Blake was content to let him, and she gladly brought up the rear. The tunnel grew brighter as they travelled down it, and there were signs of cutting in the rock to suggest the tunnel had been excavated out and made wider over time.

Some of them had clearly been cut by machinery, but the tunnel didn't feel like it was wide enough to fit any through. Was there another entrance? It might make sense for there to be an access to take dust in and out, because however this anomaly created it, it was clearly creating tens of thousands of tonnes of it a year, and that wasn't going to be carried out by hand.

"Movement ahead," warned Jaune. The tunnel opened with little warning, expanding out in every direction, up and down included, until they were stood at the precipice of a steep drop down into a circular basin. The walls had been carved away all around them, and steel girders had been set up to keep the ceiling and walls stable. Forklifts and smaller trucks were dotted about the bottom, and in the centre was a huge mound of sparkling dust, almost like a pyramid. It sloped upward, up and up, to the centre of the cavern some twenty metres off the ground where, in the air, the anomaly floated.

All Becomes Dust was… improbable. Impossible.

It almost looked like a Grimm for its black mass, but it clearly wasn't. It was like a squid, or a plant, or… an insect? Something else entirely? There was a central mass of smoky black ink that was indistinct and uneven, shimmering and morphing so that it never had a defined edge. From that darkness came ten long tendrils like arms or tentacles, some of which hung limp but others – four, at least – swishing about with incredible laziness, like they were swimming through water. Each of those tentacles ended in a long, finned leaf-like structure that glowed a beautiful shade of gold, with rippling patterns of yellow and orange behind it.

The very air around its core distorted and warped like a mirage in a desert. It twisted and pooled in non-Euclidian shapes, and they were shapes, she realised. Little shimmering flashes of gold light played in them and created images and symbols she couldn't understand, but which were clearly attempts to communicate with them. Brazenly, she looked to Jaune, wondering perhaps unfairly if his anomalous nature had granted him unnatural understanding. It clearly had not because he looked caught between awe and disgust.

"It's beautiful," whispered Coral, unknowingly echoing Blake's own thoughts.

"This is the source of all dust," said Pyrrha. "It… It looks like it could be. The way it moves and shines." One of the tentacles reached out for them and they leapt back. It clearly had reacted to their presence. "I don't like it. We should kill it."

"Take away dust and all of Remnant collapses." said Blake.

"But to rely on it is no better! This… This thing. It's not right. It's not normal."

"It's not creating dust," added Jaune, not really finishing Pyrrha's statement but pointing out something equally important. "Look at it. It's reaching out to us and moving but there's no dust coming out of it right now. Why? Does it need instructing? Is that why it's trying to talk to us?"

"Perhaps it needs fuel of its own," said Coral. "The name is all BECOMES dust. That implies that it was not dust before. I have a feeling I know the answer."

Blake had a feeling she knew it too, and why those cells were located close to here. She felt sick.

An emergency call cut through that as Nicholas Arc's voice replaced Coral's. "Winter Schnee has injected an unknown substance into herself and is transforming! I repeat, Winter Schnee is transforming! All active agents and ARC Corp members evacuate the building now! We have no idea what she will be capable of!"

The cave and the walls trembled and cracked. Above them, the world seemed to shatter as thick roots of solid white bit down through the ground nearby them. Coral wobbled and almost fell in, but Blake caught her. It didn't matter anyway because the tunnel behind them was pierced through by white roots, and the ceiling above began to fall.

"Down!" shouted Jaune. "But don't let the anomaly touch you!"

As one, they leapt and hit the cave's edge, skidding down the rockface toward the mountain of dust and the strange floating anomaly above it, which Blake could feel observing their every step. Its long tendrils reached out as though to welcome them, as if to beckon them, with the promise that with a single touch, all would become dust.

If Winter didn't get to them first.

Next Chapter: 1st May

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