Cradle was great. Cradle was necessary. Cradle would save humanity. He knew these things. That was why he repeated them over and over in his head, as he waited for Soma to finish chipping away at some rocks.

Nine hours. Nine hours they'd been trekking, across what could charitably be described as a wasteland, right in the middle of summer with not a cloud to be seen in the sky. Yes, he knew the importance of the job, and yes, he knew the helicopter would raise suspicions, but still, his legs hurt, his feet hurt, his ankles hurt, and he wanted to be lying down in the shade with a cold beer already.

Perhaps he might have found the work more tolerable if he was actually doing something interesting, but no. Science had never been his strong point at school, and two years fighting Aragami was not exactly a conventional education. Anything Soma tried to explain would be forgotten within the day. Thus, the only reason he was there was as manual labour, because apparently Soma needed all his lab for whatever he needed to find.

Speaking of Soma, the only other person within twenty miles had apparently finished chipping away at his rocks, having reduced a small handful into two small piles of dust. For the sixth time that day, he pointed a blowtorch at one of the piles, and for the sixth time that day an almost-interesting lilac tint crept into the flame. For the sixth time that day, the doctor stirred the second pile into some jar of fluid, and (after a good torching) for the sixth time that day the air started smelling like the back end of a fish market.

Soma seemed to be both satisfied and annoyed by the results, and took a cigarette to chew on. "Everyone on this planet is stupid."

"You remember that I was born here, right?"

Soma shrugged as he lit up. "Then you stopped being stupid later. The point is," he said, spreading his arms out for emphasis, "we've just spent the entire day walking over one single saltpetre field. There's enough minerals in the ground here to blow up any city twice over. And what have the local terrorist – sorry, 'civil rights' group done with it? Hot nothing. Your planet is stupid."

He wasn't going to argue – in hindsight, Dust, Aura and Semblances made clapping your hands if you believed a bit too easy. "Point taken. Still, all the better for us. Is starting phase two viable?

Soma took a long drag of his cigarette. "There's enough here for at least fifty years. Fenrir Mining Corporation is ready to start."

Beowolves resembled wolves in the same way that wolves resembled corgis. Hulking, snarling, six feet at the shoulder, they were more fairytale werewolves than anything natural. The lupine snout was there, yes, but next to the jagged spines, jagged claws, jagged fangs and coldly-empty eyes, it only served one purpose: to make them look all the more monstrous.

"Fire in the hole!"

I ducked slightly, but I needn't have bothered; Nora had enough sense to aim well above all our heads. In a graceful arc, a single grenade landed right among the Beowolf pack. The Grimm were mindless enough to not recognise the danger, but Ren and Pyrrha wisely retreated to a safe distant. I held out a few moments longer – keep them distracted, keep them close together – before ducking under another bestial swipe and deploying my shield.

The pack saw that I wasn't moving anymore, moved to exploit it, then the fuse hit zero.

The blast wave hit first. The mass of air slammed into my shield, pushing me back an inch or so, carrying with it a clinging cloud of dirt and debris. Then came the shrapnel. I didn't know what Nora put in those grenades, but a violent storm of shredded steel rained down on me, doing its best to turn me into fresh purée. Thankfully, I had a shield, but the Beowolves had no such protection, and with the shrapnel came the meaty thunks of blood, bone and broken beasts. But just as quickly as it begun, it was all over: the blast wave passed, the shrapnel flew by, and all that was left was a cloud of pink smoke and the howls of dying Grimm.

Beowolves were monsters, but they weren't the most threatening monsters. In addition to small-arms fire, medium-arms fire, large-arms fire, repeated stab wounds, singular stab wounds, decapitation, bisection and excessive blunt force trauma, we could add high explosives to the list of things that killed them.

"Jaune, you're bleeding."

Was I? I looked down to check myself. Arms fine, chest fine, guts fine, legs – ah. I hadn't fully shielded myself from the blast, and a stray piece of grenade casing had dug into my shin. Only about the size of a fingertip, it was minor enough that it wouldn't slow me down at all. If Pyrrha hadn't mentioned it, it would have healed (sweet, sweet Oracle cells) long before I'd ever have noticed it.

Still, it probably counted as one of those things to not-be-reckless about. Leaning down, I eased the twisted scrap out of my leg and tossed it into the undergrowth. "Thanks for the spot, Pyrrha. I'll be more careful next time."

My rather 'hand-wavy' response earned a concerned eyebrow from my partner, but before she could express it in words, Ren interjected with the same. "Was it strictly necessary to hold out that long before shielding yourself?"

Fair enough; standing out in the open next to a known explosive would be stupid for anyone. It made sense to explain some of my thoughts. "In the strictest sense, no, it wasn't necessary, but I thought it would be the most effective course of action."

Straightening back up, I turned to face my team more directly. "Consider this: we have – or had – a pack of Beowolves." I briefly poked a chunk of former Grimm. "We also have a grenade launcher." I gestured towards Nora's weapon – Magnhild, I think she called it. "But we're limited in the number of grenades we have, so it makes sense to maximise the damage each grenade causes. All with me so far?"

Nora seemed slightly disappointed that the mood had gone from 'explosions explosions' to 'tactics lecture number twenty-seven', while Pyrrha and Ren were concerned about where I was going with this, but they all nodded nonetheless. At that, I continued.

"To maximise that damage, we want all the bits of shrapnel flying from the explosion to embed in as many Grimm as possible. We definitely don't want bits and pieces flying off everywhere, so it's best if the pack is as tightly-packed as possible when the grenade explodes. Hence –"

Pyrrha finished it for me. "You engage the pack for as long as possible, keeping them tight and preventing them from spreading out."

"Exactly."

At that, my teammates' general concern for my continued existence became something more nuanced, more conflicted. They could see the logic there, calculated rather than blind, but it looked like they didn't agree with the premises behind that logic. Yes, it was calculated, but a calculated risk, and it risked enough that it still wasn't worth taking.

Honestly, with the benefit of hindsight, I actually agreed with them. "With all that said, I strongly suspect I'll never do that again."

That naturally brought a ripple of surprise, so I again moved to clarify. "I underestimated how potent our grenades were." I moved over to what remained of a Beowolf. It had been a good five meters from the blast centre, and its remains still looked like they came from the business end of a meat grinder. "Now I know that Nora can do this, it tells me two things: firstly, that we don't need the full impact of her grenades for them to do more than enough, and secondly, that I very, very much would prefer to not be on the receiving end of them. Hence –"

Pyrrha again finished it for me. "It's not worth it for you to take that risk again."

"Right. For what it's worth, I'm sorry for worrying you again."

My partner gave a small sigh. "Apology accepted. In the future, can you try explain these things to us before they happen?"

I winced slightly. "I'll try. I don't know how often I'll be able to do it – a lot of these things come to be by instinct, in the middle of the fight – but I'll try."

Another sigh, more tired and yet with a slight tinge of hope. "I suppose that's all I can ask for, but thank you for trying."

With that, a quiet fell over the clearing. We all took the moment to reflect. It bore repeating, Remnant wasn't Earth. Remnant had grasslands, forests, fluffy clouds and cerulean skies, all of which Earth had a distinct lack of. Even with the Grimm, Remnant still had hope, instead of just lingering desperation. It only made sense that my leadership style – my everything style – would have to change as well.

A quiet fell over the clearing.

Then, as always, it was broken by the baying of even more Grimm.

The cafeteria. A table. A sheet of paper.

Team bonding ideas:

Killing Grimm

Alcohol

I stared at the sheet for a few seconds, before crossing out what I'd written. I needed new ideas about how to make my team more functional, not rehashes of already-trodden ground. The question, obviously, was what.

Non-alcoholic beer

I entertained the thought for all of about two seconds, before crossing that out again. Even I wasn't desperate enough to count that as different. I needed something new. Something fresh. Something that normal people actually did.

My thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Team RWBY. More specifically, by Ruby taking a seat across from me, and then promptly letting her head crash down with a solid thunk.

I gave a sympathetic wince. Ruby showed it the most obviously, but none of her teammates were looking their best. Weiss and Blake had a ragged edge to them, a hint of bitter glowering under some heavy eyelids and mussed hair. Yang, meanwhile, looked fine on the surface, but twitched and twiddled in her seat, pointedly looking anywhere but at them. Anyone could make a sensible guess at filling the gaps.

"Not the best morning, I take it?"

"Treachery." Ruby rolled her head to face me. "It was treachery, Jaune. Accursed treachery, most dark and foul. First thing this morning, we were betrayed, by the one person we all thought we could trust."

"I already said I was sorry…"

"Your words ring hollow, Yang Xiao Long."

"I only overran by two minutes!"

"And yet you still used up all the hot water. Do you know how it feels, Yang? For cruel reality to drag you from your warm, cozy bed, to seek some respite with a relaxing soak, only to be blasted by the deepest freeze of Atlas? That was what you put me – no, what you put us through, Yang. Maybe you should feel it for yourself, Yang. Tomorrow morning. It's only fair, right?"

Ah, sibling bonding.

"Okay, okay! You can all go first tomorrow. Sheesh."

"Is she usually this…" It took me a moment to think of the right word. "This vindictive in the mornings?"

Yang sighed. "Only if she hasn't had cookies recently."

"Cookies. That reminds me." Ruby turned her attention to her white-haired teammate. "'Cookies are not a suitable breakfast food'. That was never the point. There was only one packet left in the vending machine, Weiss. Ten seconds. Ten seconds was all it would have taken, and all of this could have been avoided. But no. You had to drag me away, and when we came back, the cookies were gone. This is all on you, Weiss. You did this to me. You turned me into this."

"That's because they aren't an appropriate breakfast food, you dolt! You're training to be a huntress now, and that means you need –"

"I know what I need, and it involves chocolate chips!"

As Weiss and Ruby descended into bickering, I couldn't help but smile. Yes, they were arguing, but it felt good-natured, borne from trying to help each other rather than harm. Obviously things weren't perfectly smooth yet, but it looked like Team RWBY was sorting itself out.

Now, for my own team…

"What do you have there, Jaune?"

The last member of Team RWBY spoke up, and seeing no reason not to, I pushed my sheet towards the middle of the table. "Nothing much. Just thinking of team bonding activities."

Yang and Blake took a look at my brainstorming session, and Weiss and Ruby paused their bickering to take a glance as well. Pretty much simultaneously, four frowns crossed their faces. Not entirely surprising.

Ruby spoke up first. "This looks like something Uncle Qrow would come up with."

"I take it that's a bad thing?"

"I love him, but…"

"He's a middle-aged, alcoholic, eternal bachelor," Yang finished.

Probably not the best example to aspire to, then. "I figured. I am very open to suggestions."

Team RWBY looked at each other for a moment, before Yang spoke again. "Why not something easy that everyone can get involved in? Like some games or movies – we should totally have a movie night."

"Nice idea! As leader, I'm picking the movies."

"Hold on! Doubtless you'll just pick –"

Whilst Weiss and Ruby bickered again, I wrote down Movies? Games? on my list of ideas. "Any recommendations for games?"

"Eh." Yang shrugged. "Pick whatever you like, and what you're used to. It doesn't matter too much if you're just trying to relax."

It did when most of the games you knew involved copious amounts of alcohol and stupidity, but I held my tongue there. "Thanks for the advice. I'll think of something."

"No sweat. Hey, where is the rest of your team anyway?"

"They're in the showers. We had some early-morning training, and – look, they're here now."

Sure enough, Pyrrha, Ren, and Nora all sat down around us – somehow all looking distinctly less refreshed than before their shower. "What happened?" I asked.

Ren got straight to the point. "No hot water."

Ah. I turned my gaze to a certain Yang Xiao Long. Three members of Team RWBY, overhearing, turned their gaze to a certain Yang Xiao Long. Three members of Team JNPR, sensing the context, turned their attention to a certain Yang Xiao Long.

The girl in question did have the decency to look sheepish. "I'm sorry, okay?"

'Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.' A philosopher from Earth may or may not have said this; given the swarms of all-devouring monsters everywhere, verifying the accuracy of quotes was not exactly a priority. In any case, the underlying message was on point: looking back at past failures was always helpful for examples of things to not do. With the scope of Cradle as big as it was, learning from past mistakes was all the more necessary and relevant. Hence, there I was, in one of Beacon's lecture halls, listening to the first history class of the year.

All things considered, I suppose that I learned two main lessons from that class.

"… it is difficult to say when the legends of Remnant end and its history formally begins but most historians place the cutoff point at around the time of the founding of Vacuo not only do we have strong oral and literary traditions recounting the laying of its flagstones but those very same flagstones provide concrete evidence that the city is the oldest surviving settlement in the world however due to the passage of time and dubious record keeping featuring no lack of wild embellishments the exact age of the city is still hotly debated with estimates ranging from eight hundred to three thousand years though most estimates lie in the middle of that range at around the fifteen hundred mark …"

Number one: Beacon did not hire the best faculty.

Professor – correction, Doctor – Oobleck whizzed around like an overclocked machine, powered onwards by determination and coffee. He obviously knew and was passionate about his subject, but he spewed it off so quickly that trying to understand and process it was like trying to catch a waterfall in a thimble. I did try for about three minutes, but after a page of incomplete, inaccurate, illegible notes, an alternative strategy was clearly needed.

There was no way to make these notes half-decent, so I'd have to dig around in textbooks later. How could I make that revision process less painful? Well, by having clear markers to direct myself to the appropriate topics – yes, there were probably other methods, but the good Doctor had already started talking about the origin of Vale and I didn't have time for better.

Right, so clear markers for the overarching ideas, so write down the skeleton of everything he says and fill in the gaps later. Simple, right?

Well, Dr. Oobleck still talked so fast that even when only writing down the shell of his arguments, it was still almost-impossible to keep up. Actively thinking was still too slow, so it ended up being some pattern of subconscious scrawling, where my wrist wrote down an approximation of what drifted in one ear before it drifted out the other. As a result, my notes were still mostly inaccurate and mostly illegible, but they were at least complete.

So, that was lesson one. As for lesson two:

Thwep.

Cardin Winchester was an asshat.

In the seat in front of me was the boy from combat class. From my vantage-point, I could see everything: namely, that he wasn't even trying to pay attention, and he was instead directing that effort to annoy those who were.

Thwep.

In particular, he was balling up paper from his notepad and throwing it at the people in front of him. His main target seemed to be the rabbit-eared faunus directly in front of him, but everyone got at least a few hits; this naturally earned him a fair amount of annoyed frowns, but those just seemed to motivate him further.

Thwep.

And of course, Dr. Oobleck was too deep in his lecture to notice any of it, and the victims didn't think it important enough to raise a major complaint. Granted, it probably wasn't, but it didn't change the fact that Cardin Winchester was an asshat.

Thwep.

In the interests of being a good human being, it would be good to get him to stop.

Thwep.

Thwip.

When my paper missile tapped him on the head, Cardin immediately turned to face me, a cold glare on his face. "Arc. What do you want?"

Might as well get straight to the point. "People are trying to learn. Do you really have to disrupt them?"

Cardin rolled his eyes, in a 'not-another-goody-two-shoes' sort of way. "Really. Well, the way I see it, I'm just having a bit of harmless fun, and I don't feel like stopping any time soon. What's in it for me, then?"

Being a better person and not being seen as an ass by his classmates, for two, but given that he was the sort of person who would start throwing paper in the first place, those arguments would die before they reached his brain. What else to try – utilitarianism, maybe? "Because, if you're surrounded by a pack of Grimm, you don't want to be an enemy of the one person who might have your back?"

Cardin did briefly entertain the thought, glancing back at the students in front of him. I say glanced, because three seconds later he was leering back at me again. "Morons, like that animal down there? I'd take my chances."

Great – so not just an asshat, but a racist asshat to boot. "Look, at the very least –"

"Mister Arc, Mister Winchester, I am sure that whatever matters you have to discuss can wait until the end of the lesson can they not?"

Of course Dr. Oobleck would notice me talking after not noticing Cardin being an ass. "Apologies, sir. It can wait."

"Excellent. Excellent." The doctor took a long sip of his coffee. "Glad to see that you are back on board with us, Mr. Arc. Now, to return to the topic at hand perhaps the biggest issue with the earliest settlement of Vale was its position in an area of few dust deposits which severely limited the peoples' capabilities to defend themselves as such many would-be trailblazers left the settlement in hopes of finding richer deposits …"

And with that, we went back to scrawling inaccurate, illegible notes. Well, I did at least. Cardin just went back to being an asshat.

The dorm was quiet.

Against the wall, sat on his bed, Ren had a book open in his lap, reading in silence. Nora was lying on her own bed, scroll open to some nature documentary, its audio being the only ambience in the room. At his desk Jaune too was on his scroll, face buried into another corner of the student handbook as he filled out yet another form for whatever. And finally, Pyrrha sat at her desk, Miló disassembled before her, cleaning out the dust and dirt from the morning's excursions.

It was not a good quiet.

Three days. Three days ago, the room had been alive. Perhaps not lively or vibrant, but they had been talking and laughing with each other. Now, though? It felt as if everyone wanted the room to be filled with something, but no-one was quite sure what. Not quite alive, not quite dead, a sort of suspended animation – that was the best way she could put the feeling.

She put Miló down again, and turned her attention back to the room. Her teammates, apparently, had had the same idea, and she met their eyes. One by one, three pairs of eyes flicked towards their leader. Some silent words were passed: they were in agreement. Yes, while Jaune did still have a somewhat-unsettling lack of self-preservation, he was at least trying to bridge the gap, and it was right for them to try as well.

As Jaune's partner, Pyrrha felt it her responsibility to reach out first. "So, Jau-"

Further words were cut off by a heavy thunk, as the student in question slapped his scroll down onto his desk. Standing up, he turned to face them. "Right, paperwork's done. Anyone got any ideas for the evening?"

Once again, three pairs of eyes met each other. This time, nothing was communicated. Jaune was taking the lead, and nothing was planned on their ends. "I think we're all free, Jaune. What's on your mind?"

"Great. Hold on a moment, I'll be right back." Jaune promptly left the room without further explanation.

Before the ensuing silence could become oppressive, Nora spoke up. "So… does anyone want to guess what Jauney's got planned?"

"He asked if we were free," Ren replied. "It would involve us – I assume some sort of team activity."

"Well, yeah, even I figured that out Renny, but what? What does Jauney like doing? We know he can fight Grimm, and that he might like a drink, but then what? Are we gonna pin a tail on a Beowulf? What about a throwing a wild party? Can you even buy beer on campus?"

"Unlikely, unlikely, and only from upperclassmen that should know better."

"Aww. Now I mentioned it, I wanna see what pinning a tail on a Beowulf is like. 'Course, you've have to catch it first so you can get the tail off – maybe an Ursa would be more fun instead…"

Even as she let Nora's… Nora-ness wash over her, Pyrrha couldn't help but let a smile cross her face. Two friends, comfortable-enough with each other to talk about everything, anything and nothing. Exactly what she had always wanted.

Had she been naïve in thinking that Jaune could be that person for her? Almost certainly. She'd been so taken by the treating-her-normally aspect, that she'd failed to notice… well, literally anything else. Jaune could have kicked puppies for fun and she wouldn't have noticed. Now, her leader certainly wasn't that sort of person, but her initial image had nonetheless had many holes, and she didn't quite know how to reevaluate her approach.

Speaking of her leader, Jaune was already back. "Right. We still hardly know each other, so it's time for more Team Bonding." The capitalisation hung in the air, as Jaune dug out a pack of cards. "As the one card game that I know how to play, I am proposing that we play Go Fish."

She looked to Nora. Nora looked to Ren. Ren looked back to her. They were all in agreement. They all shook their heads.

"Yeah, I figured." Jaune took a seat, looking almost relieved that his suggestion had been shot down. "I am very open to other suggestions."

"What other card games do you know?" Ren spoke up.

"Nothing safe or sober. Why do think I suggested Go Fish?"

Ren took a moment to process that – and part of her did want to chuckle – but eventually, he did come up with a course of action. "I'm going to go to the library and pick out a board game for the four of us. Does that sound reasonable?"

"Go for it. I didn't even know the library had board games."

"Ooh, let me come! I want to see if they have that cool monster game!"

With a quick glance in her direction (and a nod back in confirmation), Ren and Nora headed off, leaving her and her partner.

And the quiet.

Again, it was not a good quiet. Again, it loomed over the room, not quite choking but certainly not welcome. Again, it felt like it ought to be filled – wanted to be filled – but she just didn't know how.

Still, she felt she had to try.

"So, Jaune –"

"Do you think –"

And her partner had had the exact same thought she had. She gestured, to let him speak first.

"Do you think that was too forced?"

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The whole team cohesion thing. I'm not blind. I can tell things aren't the best right now. I'm trying to help with that. But do you think that getting us to sit down and play games would actually help?"

"Well…" She let herself trail off into her thoughts. Obviously, it had been forced – but too forced? She was sure that the whole team wanted a better rapport, and somebody had to light the spark. "I agree with the idea behind it, and it definitely comes from the right place."

"I'm sensing a 'but' there."

And there definitely was. "Was Go Fish really the best idea you could come up with?"

Jaune shrugged. "I'm really out of practice on anything else. Plus, it's a classic. Care for a game while we wait?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I think I'm okay for now." Still, she did feel a slight smile crossing her face.

"That's fine. You had a question yourself?"

She had. She opened her mouth, ready to ask – and then stopped. She had been planning to ask just a simple 'How are you', something easy, more to fill the silence than anything else. But simple as it was, it was also bland. A bland question to get a bland answer, with nothing flowing from there.

Had it been a minute earlier, she might have accepted that as a starting point. But now? Jaune had provided that starting point. He'd opened up, and just going back to pleasantries felt like ignoring that. Whatever she asked, she wanted it to be more substantial?

"Are you okay, Pyrrha?"

She shook her head clear. "I'm fine. Just thinking of the best way of phrasing the question." Fortunately, she did have some more to ask. Something that had been… not worrying her, but niggling at the back of her mind for a few days. "Back when we played Two Truths and a Lie. Why didn't you want us to just say which one was which straight away?"

"Oh, that? It's to help keep a bit of mystery. Sure, we could just tell everything and have that be the end, but this way? You want to find it out. You want to get to know your teammates better, to unravel the truth. So instead of just being a one and done for team bondung, it carries on for at least a bit longer. Or that was the idea, anyway."

Huh. "That's… surprisingly insightful." Now they'd brought it up, she couldn't help but think back to the questions from that evening. How much beer did Jaune drink? Had Ren actually meditated under a waterfall? Was Nora secretly a sleeper agent for Big Waffle? None of those were exactly important questions, but now they'd been brought up again, she knew they would gnaw in the back of mind.

She supposed she could get started right now. "So, Jaune, did you manage to take out a sleuth of Ursai with nothing but a can opener?"

In response, Jaune shot her a distinctly flat, unimpressed looked. "I was just talking about how I wanted to keep some of the mystery.

"Yes, you did." To encourage team bonding – but wasn't that what they were doing now? "But you already know about my taste in pizza. Isn't it fair that I get to know something back?"

Jaune continued to hold his stare.

She just held it right back.

Eventually, he was the one who broke it off. "Fine. That one with the Ursai and can opener was true."

So it hadn't been a bluff. "How does that even work, anyway?"

"Anything is a can opener if you try hard enough."

…

Really. That was his explanation?

She waited a moment longer, to see if anything else was forthcoming, but no. That was it. A complete non-answer, that addressed nothing and just raised more issues. Completely unhelpful, completely useless, and yet… from what she'd seen of her partner and leader, it was exactly the sort of thing he would say. It felt completely right for him.

She couldn't help but laugh.

"Did I say something weird?"

"Don't worry, Jaune. You're fine." He was fine. With that, it felt like a fog had been lifted from her shoulders.

Jaune Arc wasn't normal, but then again, neither was Pyrrha Nikos. While she had been naïve in thinking they would immediately be sworn companions, the starting point was simple: treat him exactly how she wanted to be treated, exactly like any other person.

Chaos reigned. Gunfire echoed. Screams flew. Bodies flew.

A nightmare stalked the warehouse.

No-one had predicted it. Nobody could have predicted it. The meeting had begun like any other, debriefs done and new plans being made, when he – no, it – had sauntered in, nary a care in the world.

"Hey, guys. How's it going?"

They'd scoffed at its naïveté. A single individual, walking into an obviously-shady meeting, unarmed and unarmoured? An idiot to the core. With jeers and sneers, they'd drawn their guns in a show of force, enough to drive any reasonable person away.

In response, it pulled out its claw.

He shuddered. Oh, how they had been the naïve ones. He'd only caught a glimpse of it, but even that was enough to tell him that it was wrong. Gnarled, overgrown, the colour of burnt carrion, five razored talons sprouted from a ridged mass that might have passed for a hand. Those talons seemed to twitch and writhe with minds of their own, like puppeteers rather than puppets, sending shuddering convulsions up what could barely be called a wrist. It was scarcely animal, let alone human. No, there was only one word which sprung to mind.

And, as if reading their minds, their Nightmare pounced.

His would-be vanguard was out in seconds. The monster did not just look the part, it moved and struck like one too. It jerked and twisted from step to step, always and yet never changing direction, juddering out the path of every bullet sent its way. With a single swipe of that demonic claw, the toughest enforcer he knew was sent flying headfirst through a crate.

With that, anarchy descended.

Chaos reigned. Gunfire echoed. Screams flew. Bodies flew.

A nightmare stood in front of him.

From a distance, it had looked human, and up close, the resemblance was more unerring. Hair, eyes, face, arms, torso, legs, feet, other hand – everything about it spoke of humanity, barring that nightmarish, grim claw. It was as if some abyssal horror had stolen a victim's skin, leaving its claw exposed as a cold mockery of the human form. As if to further pervert the essence of man, it opened its maw and forced out an approximation of words.

"Sorry about your guys. They should be fine – I don't think I hit them too hard – but you should get a doctor in case."

And now it falsified compassion for those it had so brutally crushed? Was there any low it would not stoop to? In response, he raised his pistol and aimed at centre mass. He knew he couldn't fire, though. All the strength had long left his fingers, all redirected to keep him standing for a moment longer. The gun was just one last bluff, a tiny hope to drive the nightmare to an end.

"Woah, there." The bluff was called immediately. The monster pushed the gun back down, and he was powerless to resist. "No need for any of that. You're the leader here, right? I'm pretty sure there's a way we can end this without any more violence. What do you say?"

A smile crossed its face, in a look that might have appeared inviting on anything but a demon made flesh. He was in no position to say no, though. With fear itself staring him down, all he could do was nod.

"Great! I'm Lindow Amamiya, and from now on, we're going to do things a little differently around here."

WITH STRANGE AEONS EVEN DEATH MAY DIE

So yeah, this story isn't quite dead. Of course, that does beg the question as to why this update took almost five years, to which I can only say that real life (university, starting and quitting a doctorate, finding a real job, and actually doing that job) all got in the way, and I generally lost interest in writing. Still, this chapter was lying half-finished on my PC, and I had some free time now, so I figured that I'd actually knuckle down and finish it.

To comment on the actual chapter, I don't have too much to say. A few scenes to hint at what the rest of the God Eater cast is up to, and some more scenes to develop/establish character relationships. Hopefully, everyone still feels in character.

Is anyone going to read this? Does anyone still care about the Goc Eater franchise? Is the next update going to take less than five years? Who knows? I certainly don't. I will say that I have the key beats of the story planned out (I did when I started writing it), and we'll see if I have to will to actually write it all out.