I do not own RWBY or Warhammer 40,000, only my original characters.

Return of Faith

Chapter Nineteen: Interrogation

Inquisitor Kress winced as a Black Lions Apothecary pulled another piece of glass out of his arm. The removal of the obsidian arrow itself had been a relatively simple procedure, but it had been quickly discovered that shards of the arrow remained embedded in his flesh and muscle tissue, broken off from the missile during the fight in the vault with the three interlopers.

Adrenaline had numbed the pain then, and the Apothecary, Brother Lanser if Kress was remembering it right, had made sure to inject him with painkillers even as he began to examine and operate on the Inquisitor. Brother Lanser was a skilled healer, wielding scalpel and syringe like his brothers would wield a blade, but he could only do so much with what he had on hand. Kress would need to undergo surgery if he wanted all the shards removed, and even then, there was likely going to be lasting nerve damage.

But Kress considered it a small price in exchange for the prize he now possessed.

His gaze turned to the girl who had brought them all here, wrapped in a thermal blanket and attended to by several of the Apothecary's medicae serfs. They had managed to extract her from the machine without Orbeck's aid, though the Tech-Priest was now eagerly examining the device and prepping it for transportation. She had been weak, however, unable to stand without assistance and upon returning to the surface, Kress had ordered a medicae to examine her, ignoring his own injuries as he did so.

It was only after the Black Lions Apothecary had assured him that she would be alright did the Inquisitor allow himself to be tended to.

She had not spoken since leaving the vault, taking in all that was going on around her with a mixture of shock, awe, and drowsiness. No doubt she was still trying to process everything going on around her, despite having some idea of it already, if her words from earlier were any indicator.

She would often turn to watch the Black Lions, either Lanser or the Battle-Brothers who stood guard around them, but right now, her gaze was fixed on the unconscious form of Kara.

The young psysker was resting on a medical cot just a few yards away, still and unresponsive, but alive. Kress was not sure what had happened to her to put her in this state, but he had to assume the former Headmaster of Beacon was responsible in some way. The man, if he truly was a man, had displayed powerful psychic abilities, far more powerful than the Semblances utilized by the Huntsmen of this planet. Sensing Kara's own psychic mind, the headmaster likely sought to eliminate her in order to tip the scales in his favor.

But if that was the case, why did he not go after Syrus as well, and why did he not kill her out right? Perhaps it was some sort of defensive reaction instead? Did he even realize what the two psykers were?

"Will she be alright?" The Singer asked, drawing Kress out of his contemplation. She was still looking at Kara.

"Yes," Kress answered after a moment. "Whatever your jailor did to her, I have confidence she will recover. The Emperor watches over His servants." A true and pious fact, but that did not mean the Emperor always intervened on His servants behalf. The Singer nodded, though she did not look completely convinced. "What is your name?"

She blinked and turned to look at Kress. "My name?"

He nodded, "yes, your name." He intended to sound reassuring, but his mask's voxcaster distorted his words, making them harsh and intimidating.

She hesitated for a moment, then answered, "Amber."

"Amber," Kress repeated with a nod. "My name is Oscar Kress. It is nice to finally meet you, after all this time."

"All this time…" she echoed; her voice distant as her eyes turn back to Kara. "I… remember a presence, reaching out to me when I slept. I was afraid so I hid, and the presence went away, but then it came back, and with another. When was that? How long did Ozpin have me in that thing?"

"I do not know," he admitted, seeing no reason to lie. "We only came across your world ten standard months ago, when our astropaths heard your Song in the Warp. Why were you in that device?"

Amber turned back to him, blinking slowly, a hand pressed against her temple. "I was… hurt. Ambushed on the road. A girl… she tried to take my…" She trailed off, closing her eyes, out of concentration to remember or a refusal to, Kress was not sure. Regardless, he could connect the dots. "It left me… not whole."

Kress resisted the impulse to furrow his brow. "How did she do it?"

The Inquisitor already had a hypothesis on how the girl had done it. She had clearly made a pact with agents of the Archenemy in order to feed on the souls of others. On any other world, such a deduction would have been laughable and cause for an investigation into his mental purity by his fellow inquisitors, but on Remnant, where the soul could be wielded like a shield against physical injury… it became far more believable.

He could only imagine the number of people she had robbed of their souls before her death in the vault, a death most assuredly deserved.

Amber shuddered as she recalled. "A beetle… a Grimm… it came out of a glove she wore and… and…" she went quiet again.

Kress was about to push her for more details when the crackle of static chimed in his ear. "Inquisitor," said a voice from the Inquisitor's micro-bead, "this is Sergeant Torne."

Torne had been one of the Inquisitorial Stormtroopers left in charge of the schola's skydocks. "Speak, Sergeant," Kress ordered. Amber gave him a look, perhaps not realizing that he was speaking to someone else. He waved it off.

"My Lord, Interrogator Yuria Lond has returned. She is flying in on a commandeered aircraft and will be landing at the skydocks soon. She has the General with her, my lord." The trooper reported.

"Very good," Kress said, pleased to hear her mission had been a success. That pleasure died quickly as he asked, "did she ask for her brother?" Kress had not meant to voice the question, but he needed to know.

"No, my lord," Torne said, and Kress felt small relief. He had ordered that no one tell her what had happened if asked, that grim responsibility rested on his shoulders alone. "However, she mentioned she had 'unexpected guests' with her."

"Did she elaborate on that?"

"No, my lord. She cut the link before I had a chance to ask what she meant." Kress was not surprised. Both twins had a fondness for vague and ominous statements like this, much to his annoyance. They loved to keep Kress guessing, along with everyone else. He just prayed these guests would be of some actual use to him.

"When she's landed, have the prisoner taken up to the Solaire and prepare him for interrogation," Kress instructed. "Then, escort Yuria and her 'guests' to the schola's medicae wing. I want to see them for myself."

"Yes, my lord," and the static cut out as the call ended.

Kress groaned as he stood up from where he sat. He had been forced to remove his power armor during his treatment and was clad only in an armored body-glove. The sleeve on his injured arm had been rolled up to allow the Apothecary better access to the wound and the limb was now held in medical sling to discourage movement and agitate the remaining shards of glass. Despite the painkillers in his system, he could still feel some of them, shifting in his muscles. A very uncanny sensation.

He looked at Amber, saw that questioning look in her eyes. "We will continue our talk later, Amber." He told her politely, "I am very keen to hear more about you. But first, duty calls."

~o0o~

Kress met Yuria and her 'guests' in the main office of Beacon's medicae overseer. He sat behind the overseer's desk, a functional yet elegant piece of craftsmanship, with two stormtroopers on either side of him. The room was modest but far from plain. Bookshelves took up the wall behind him, filled with traditional medical tomes as well as what he would consider more esoteric material. Small paintings and framed diplomas hung from the walls, and several different chairs were arrayed around the office space, with two finely upholstered chairs placed in front of the desk.

The overseer was still alive, according to reports, one of the few Beacon faculty members who had surrendered during the Black Lions' assault on the schola. The woman was tending to the wounded, both Imperial and Remnantian. She had said her 'Hippocratic oath' required her to aid anyone suffering from injury or sickness, regardless of who they were. Still, they kept a close eye on her.

Given that she was indisposed, as well as a prisoner of war, Kress had seen little issue with commandeering her office for his own use. Granted, he would have taken it anyway, as was his Inquisitorial right. He needed a small and intimate space to work his trade and the cramped and busy medical halls were ill suited for interrogation.

He had considered finding a better place for this meeting, the headmaster's office specifically. Its open view of Vale, burning and conquered, would help drive home the futility of resistance. But Kress was injured, and there were still several pockets of resistance scattered across the campus. The Inquisitor felt there was no reason to tempt fate any more today.

He had thought about dimming the lights or closing the window blinds to add an intimidating atmosphere to the whole thing but decided against it. It smacked of overcompensation and melodrama, and he was in no mood for such things. No, for this, his hooded form would be enough for intimidation, hiding his face from view within its shadowy confines with only the polished steel teeth of his stylized respirator showing.

They arrived several minutes after he had taken his seat, a polite trio of knocks against the door heralding their arrival. "Enter," He called out, letting the mechanical snarl work in his favor.

The door opened and Yuria Lond was the first to enter, smiling that calm but dangerous smile she seemed to always wear. The rest followed in her wake, and Inquisitor Oscar Kress immediately began to analyze and examine each and every one of the four humans Yuria had brought him.

The first was a man, late thirties to early forties in age with a fair but cruel face and orange hair. He was dressed in a white suit with a bowler hat and carried himself with confidence and poise. This was Roman Torchwick, the criminal mastermind that had been plaguing Vale for months until his sudden capture. His file painted him as resourceful, cunning, and ruthless, traits Kress admired, but they made no mention of him being a follower of the Imperial Creed, as the Aquila pendant hanging from his neck indicated.

The second was a woman, short of stature, age somewhere in the early to mid-twenties. Her hair was blend of pink, white and brown, a palate that was matched by her outfit and mismatched eyes. She smiled pleasantly, yet there was no warmth, and stayed close to Torchwick. A partner or family member perhaps? She looked at Kress, blinking, and her eyes switched color. A concerning sight.

The third was a young man, late teen years, blonde hair, average build. He wore a black hoodie with blue jeans, a stylized likeness of some long-eared creature emblazoned on the front of the hoodie. A native beast of Remnant? Of the four, he was the most openly afraid, shifting his gaze constantly between the two stormtroopers on either side of Kress before looking at the Inquisitor himself, who had yet to say anything, further rattling the boy.

And finally, a young girl, a few years younger than the boy, with a slim but athletic build. She had black-brown hair and a matching ensemble of black and red, with a large, frilled dress and long flowing crimson hood. She also displayed nervousness, but it was tempered by awe as she clutched an Aquila pendant between her hands. Yet it was her eyes that truly caught the Inquisitor's attention.

They were silver. Not a shade of grey, but true silver, shining and gleaming like precious metal itself. It was not uncommon for Imperial nobility to have their eye color changed to more unnatural hues, and Remnant had shown itself to be technologically advanced enough that such a feat could be within their abilities to perform, but her eyes did not look to be artificially altered. They looked natural.

And there was only one world that Kress knew of that produced people with such vibrant and unique eye color.

Kress looked at Yuria, back in true form but still wearing the clothes of her latest persona. She leaned against the wall behind the quartet, relaxed. All four of them had had any weapons they might be carrying confiscated before entering the office, but the people of this world sported strange powers and Yuria would be ready to leap forward and kill any of them should they try to harm the Inquisitor.

Kress returned his focus to the four in question. "Have a seat," he said, gauging their reaction to his voice. There was surprise and curiosity, though that was always the case when someone first heard his voice, along with some wariness and fear, mainly from the young blonde. They did as he instructed, with Torchwick and his diminutive partner claiming the two nicer chairs already in front of the desk, while the blonde and silver-eyed girl both brought over a spare from around the office.

Once seated, Kress nodded. "Good. Now, would you mind telling me why a renowned thief, his accomplice, and two youths were being held prisoner on an Atlas warship?" His voice was professional and to the point, but carried a threatening edge to it that suggested lying would not end well.

"Being held prisoner, of course," Roman Torchwick replied with a sardonic grin, then shrugged. "Robbed some stores, killed some people, made asses out of the Vale Council. Fun stuff like that."

His small partner made a silent giggle, while the silver-eyed girl and blonde boy shot glares at the other two. The silver-eyed girl then looked back at Kress. "We believe in the God-Emperor," she told him quietly.

"And that warranted you being held aboard a military warship of an outside foreign power," Kress pressed, curious as to why a sovereign nation would allow another to operate so brazenly in its territory.

The blonde boy spoke next, though with clear hesitation, "they thought we could tell them where other cults were hiding, and if we knew about any outside the Kingdom."

"We don't," The girl added quickly, "and even if we did, we wouldn't tell them anyway!" There was conviction in her voice, and zeal.

Kress nodded in approval, then turned to Torchwick again, "and you, mister Torchwick? What was the reason you were held aboard that warship instead of in a Vale prison? Perhaps it relates to your dealings with the White Fang?"

If the man was surprised by Kress' knowledge of his activities, he did not show it, with his only reaction being to narrow his eyes. "Possibly," Torchwick answered.

"So yes," Kress replied, raising his head slightly so that they could all see the silver half-skull mask that covered his face. The silver-eyed girl and blonde boy recoiled at the sight, while the mute girl only blinked. Roman also seemed somewhat wrong footed by the Inquisitor's appearance. "Before coming here, did Yuria tell you who I was?" The question was for all of them, but he kept his focus on Torchwick.

"I heard her talk about an 'Inquisitor Kress'," the silver-eyed girl said. "That's you, right?"

"Indeed, it is," He answered, "I am Inquisitor Oscar Kress of the God-Emperor's Holy Inquisition. As an Inquisitor, it is my duty to root out corruption, depravity, and heresy wherever I find it and to protect His Imperium from all manner of threats, both within and without." He leveled them all with a look. "My word is the word of the Emperor Himself, and my authority second only to Him on Terra. As such, it is within my right to have this entire world and its populace destroyed should I decide it is beyond saving. Now, I ask you again," Kress paused to take in the dread and fear forming on their pale faces.

"Why were you being held on that warship?"

And they told him.

~o0o~

Ruby wasn't sure how much time had passed since the questioning began. Twenty minutes? Three hours? She couldn't tell, all she could do was sit there, listening to Torchwick spill the beans on everything. A part of her still couldn't believe how easily he'd given in to this man, this Inquisitor Kress, after just one threat, when General Ironwood and his soldiers had spent weeks trying to get him to talk.

Granted, she could not blame the thief. She could barely look the man in the eye, her gaze kept drifting to that creepy skull mask he wore. It was very well crafted, she had to admit, but that was the extent of her admiration for the mask. The thing just seemed so wrong, so evil looking, like he was trying to scare people with it, and the way it modulated his voice only furthered that suspicion.

And yet he claimed to be a servant of the Emperor, wielding power second only to God Himself. Why would a servant of the Master of Mankind want to instill fear in others? The Lectio Divinitatus did not mention any 'inquisitors' and the only place she'd ever seen or heard the word was in things like comics and movies.

But unlike the inquisitors shown in those comics and movies, Kress had actually gotten Torchwick to talk, and talk a lot. He told Kress everything: what he had been doing in Vale before this all started, who he hired his goons from before getting help from the White Fang, the number of Dust shops they hit, the amount of Dust they had taken, where they were storing it until it was moved out of Vale by his boss, leading the Grimm into the city, allowing himself to be taken in, and, the part that horrified Ruby, the Vytal Festival.

"The boss had hacked into Beacon's computer systems," Torchwick had explained, "she had complete access, defenses, broadcasting capabilities, and match generation. Plan was to fix a few of the fights and use Emmy's Semblance to cause a panic, you know, make it look like a few of the brats went too far and draw in the Grimm. Then Neo here would spring me, I'd take out Atlas' fleet, and use the same program she used to hack Beacon to take control of all those tin soldiers and just make things all that more challenging for everyone."

He spoke about it like it was something to be proud of, or joke about. He was talking about plunging Vale into chaos, actively taking a role in its destruction and the massacre of its civilians, and he didn't seem fazed by it at all! And he called himself a follower of the Imperial Creed.

Ruby would have punched that smug, make-up caked face of his, if Kress hadn't piped in at that moment. "Who is Emmy? An accomplice of your benefactor?"

Roman made a 'so-so' motion with his hand. "Less accomplice and more lovesick kleptomaniac. Her name's Emerald Sustrai, she's got an illusion Semblance that lets her fuck with people's perceptions, make them see things that aren't there or not see things that are. I just call her Emmy because it annoys her."

"Emerald!?" Ruby and Jaune both gasped, earning a raised eyebrow from Roman and a look of curiosity from Kress.

"You know this person?" The Inquisitor prompted, and Ruby nodded.

"She came to Beacon with the students from Haven. I only talked to her a few times, but she was always nice whenever I saw her." Ruby looked down at her hands, then at Roman. "She was working with you?"

"Trust me, Red, neither of us were thrilled by the idea."

"Wait," spoke up Jaune for the first time, "if she was working with you, does that mean the others in her team were too?"

Before Torchwick could reply, the Inquisitor asked, "what did she look like, Miss Rose?"

Ruby looked up and blinked. "U-uh, well, she has short mint green hair, light brown skin and red eyes. She carries a pair of mechashift revolvers with falx style sickle blades that can be turned into kusarigama." Ruby thought for a moment then added, "oh, and her clothes followed a green, brown and white color scheme, well, I mean when she wasn't wearing the Haven uniform."

The man's eyes narrowed beneath his hood, and he looked at Jaune. "Did her teammates include a young man and woman? Did the young man have grey hair and eyes and possess bionic legs? Did the Woman have dark brown hair and amber eyes?"

All of them regarded the Inquisitor with surprise at his description of two of Emerald's teammates, even Neo seemed interested now. Jaune nodded his head, "y-yes. I mean, I don't know about any bionic legs, but that sounds Mercury and Cinder. Do you… know them?"

Rather than answering Jaune, the Inquisitor asked another question, of Torchwick. "Did your benefactor ever tell you what she was after, Mister Torchwick? Did she ever hint towards your purpose in her grand scheme? Or did you simply take the money she offered without question?"

Torchwick narrowed his eyes. "And if I did? You don't get to be where I am-"

"If I was where you were, Mister Torchwick, I would not be so stupid as to accept money from an unknown party without doing extensive research into who they were and what they wanted," Kress interrupted, sounding like a bored teacher correcting a student who had given the wrong answer. "You were kept in the dark because you were disposable to her, Mister Torchwick, meant to be used and discarded the moment your usefulness had come to an end. No doubt she planned for you to die following whatever disaster your actions aboard the Dauntless would have brought or kill you herself had you somehow survived."

The expressions on Torchwick and Neo's faces were… difficult to read. To Ruby, they seemed flabbergasted by the Inquisitor's statement, like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world to them that their boss would betray them after they played their part. To be honest, Ruby thought it was a bit much too. Sure, in comics and cartoons the big bad always turned on his underlings, but this was real life, that stuff didn't actually happen… right?

Torchwick recovered from the shock and looked like he was about to say something. Then he looked over at the two armored and armored soldiers on either side of the Inquisitor and leaned back in his seat, eyes narrowed. "That's a pretty interesting conclusion, Mister Kress," he said, putting exaggerated emphasis on the 'mister', "alright if I ask how you came to it?"

"Simple deduction from the evidence on hand," the Inquisitor told him, then in a much darker voice said, "and because I had the knowledge ripped from her mind before having her executed."

Ruby could have sworn the temperature in the room dropped at those words. Torchwick looked shocked and his face had gone pale. Neo was equally stunned by the revelation, though she did not seem as shaken by the news as her partner was. Ruby and Jaune were also surprised, but their confusion for Torchwick's reaction overrode it with curiosity.

"You… killed Cinder?" he asked, saying each word slowly. "Just like that?"

"Cinder!?" Ruby repeated, stunned. She had been the one Torchwick was working for!?

"Indeed," Kress confirmed with a nod. "She possessed significant powers, I will admit, and I understand why you were afraid to cross her, but her arrogance was her own undoing, in the end. She assumed she was unique, one of a kind, a being capable of godlike feats that could overpower any foe that stood before her." He then leveled all four of them with a look that sent shivers down Ruby's neck. "She wasn't."

Those two words seemed to shake Torchwick even more than the news of his employer's death, who's identity Ruby was still processing. "You mean all this time; we were looking in the wrong place?" Ruby and her team had thought Roman was the mastermind behind all this. To learn that he was just one piece in it all, and that the real culprit had been right under their noses the whole time…

"We are done here." Kress said suddenly, breaking Ruby out of her ruminations. "I thank you for this enlightening conversation. My guards will escort you to the medicae so that any wounds you suffered may be treated."

"Wait, that's it?" Juane blurted out, and the Inquisitor raised an eyebrow.

"Of course. Were you expecting something different, Mister Arc?"

"Yes? No! I mean… I…" Jaune stammered over his words, face flushed at being called out. Ruby reached over and placed a hand on his arm to try and calm him. She heard Roman groan at the display but didn't give him much thought as it helped Jaune collect his thoughts. "I guess not. I guess I just thought we would have to do some crazy test or something," he shrugged. "Like they do in comics?"

"I am unfamiliar with these 'comics', but a trial would only be necessary if I believed you to be corrupted in body, mind, or spirit." Again, Ruby got a very ominous feeling from the way he talked. "But you harbor no such corruption and have answered my questions freely and honestly. Now, off with you. I have other pressing matters that I must address." His gaze fell on Yuria, but before Ruby could think to ask what he meant, the two soldiers stepped forward.

Not wanting to be manhandled like she had been on the Dauntless, Ruby stood up, pulling Jaune up with her, and headed for the door, showing she needed no coaxing. Roman and Neo followed after, though at a lazier pace.

"I would like to speak more with you later, Mister Torchwick," the Inquisitor said as Ruby opened the door. She looked back, and even though his face was covered by that skull mask, Ruby was sure he was smiling. "I will seek you out later. For now, rest."

"Sure…" Roman said, clearly suspicious, then just walking through the door and into the hallway. Ruby said a hasty 'goodbye' before following the thief and his partner, Jaune and the two guards right behind her.

"RUBY!"

Only to be suddenly engulfed in a backbreaking bearhug courtesy of her older sister.

~o0o~

Atop the highest tower of Beacon Academy, a standard bearing the chapter badge of the Black Lions flew proud. Planted there by assault marines in the wake of the Academy's fall, it further cemented the reality that Remnant would never again slip from the Imperium's grasp.

At the same time, the draconic titan Grimm was beheaded by the Freeblade Artoris and the Grimm hordes assaulting the city broke. Deprived of the guiding influence of the dragon, the beasts halted their advance, looking about in confusion as the human defenders mowed them down. It was only when the Atlesian warships began to crash into the horde that the Grimm fled, their murderous instincts urging them to retreat, for now.

In the years to come, it would become a commonly held belief that the planting of the standard was what drove the Grimm off, a divine act of marking Vale as the Emperor's city and blessing it with His protection.

With the Grimm threat subdued, Black Lions battle serfs moved in to support their masters in the pacification of the city. The Council's surrender had broken the spirits of most, but not all, and the few remaining pockets of resistance in Vale fought bitter, short, and ultimately futile last stands.

One such pocket was located upon the Beacon plateau, just outside the campus of the Academy. The bunker was a stout but solidly built piece of construction, unique upon Remnant as it prioritized practicality over aesthetic. It looked exactly as a bunker should look with thick walls, armor plating, and a heavily reinforced door that looked capable of withstanding a direct hit from a Leman Russ battle tank.

Survivors from the rout at the skydocks and civilians from the Amity Coliseum had taken sanctuary within its armored walls, hoping that the Imperial forces might ignore them in favor of more immediate threats. But such threats had now been dealt with, leaving only those inside the bunker as the last shred of resistance upon the Beacon plateau.

Black Lions Space Marines and Battle Sisters of the Order of Our Shrouded Lady stood outside the bunker, weapons ready. Standing tall over all present, the indomitable armored bulk of brother Aronthous Tarlon stood, panning the perimeter with his assault cannon.

When Captain Ando and his command squad arrived, the venerable dreadnought turned and raised his power fist in salute, its digits stalling and seizing due to damage sustained in battle.

"Hail, young Braedon," the ancient boomed, "The foe has been cornered, and now cowers within their little fortress." As he spoke, a sergeant of the 2nd Brotherhood approached alongside a sister superior. Both saluted him with the Sign of the Aquila, and Ando recognized the sergeant as Brother Vandrick. A dependable and dogmatic man, Vandrick followed the teachings of the Codex with the same zeal in which he followed the Lectitio Divinitatus.

"My captain," Vandrick began, "the last of the Schola's strength resides in the bunker. We have issued the order to surrender but have received no reply."

"Give the word, young Braedon," growled Tarlon, flexing his damaged fist, "And I shall wrench those doors open for you."

"These are children you seek to slaughter, Ancient One," snapped the Sister Superior, earning the dreadnought's attention as he rotated his chassis to face her.

"They are heretics! Traitors to the Emperor and the Imperium," Tarlon boomed. "The blood of our brothers stains their hands! We will show them no mercy!"

"That is not for you to decide, honored one," Ando cut in, then turned to the Sister Superior. Like all sisters in her order, her face was shrouded behind a mourning veil of white that hid her human features from sight. "Why do you defend these heathens, Sister…?"

"Sister Superior Amanda Yen, of the Order of Our Shrouded Lady, honored captain," the sister replies, once more making the Sign of the Aquila. "And I do not defend them. They have strayed from the Emperor's light, and must be punished, but many of them are students of this schola, mere children. They fought us out of self-defense, and because their instructors have deceived them into believing we are the enemy."

"All who turn from the Emperor's light are our enemies, sister," countered Vandrick, earning a hidden glare from the Battle Sister. "They should have known better than to go against His teachings, young or old. The heretic is worthy of nothing but death and contempt."

"Spare no traitor," rumbled Tarlon in approval.

"How can they turn from His teachings if they have never known them?" Yen replied. "You gave the order to surrender only minutes ago, Sergeant, yet act as if it has been hours. 'The strong must show the weak the way to His love, not scorn and punish them for their ignorance.'"

Ando knew the quote. "Benedictions of Saint Al Busaro," he said, "Volume twelve, chapter seventy-two."

Ecclesiarch Al Busaro was held in reverence nearly to the same level as the Nameless Saint herself on Evangela. His work was widely available across the entire subsector, with even the Black Lions' Librarium possessing a full collection of his work, all forty-three volumes of it. His benevolence and philosophy of education and mercy had made him beloved by the people of Evangela, and when he met his unjust end at the hands of an assassin during the Reign of Blood, the grieving populace canonized him as a Saint, a postmortem act of respect and defiance against the accursed Gouge Vandire.

Being such a merciful and forgiving man, many in the chapter did not agree with his teachings, for the greatly contradicted their own beliefs. Still, they held a grudging respect for the man, for openly defying the false Ecclesiarch when so many others meekly bowed their heads and obeyed the madman's demands.

However, Captain Ando could see merit in the passage. Though it galled him to admit it, the Sister Superior was correct. These were mostly children, cadets following the orders of their superiors. With time and proper guidance, they could come to see the errors of their ways and commit themselves to serving the Emperor.

Perhaps of more immediate concern however, it would show the people of Remnant that the God-Emperor's mercy was as plentiful as His wrath.

Ancient Tarlon growled, the noise an angry avalanche of static and metal. "Ignorance!? They knew full well that they committed heresy! Why do you protect those who have sided with the Hydra and slaughtered our Battle-Brothers!? WHY!?"

The dreadnought made to advance on the Sister Superior, but both Ando and Vandrick placed themselves in his path. "Calm yourself, Ancient One! She is not our foe!" Ando ordered, seeing from the corner of his eye, his command squad ready to leap to their captain's defense should he need it.

"Move, brothers!" Tarlon snarled, his power fist whirring and flexing. "Mordellus must be freed from the Hydra's clutches!"

"Mordellus is gone, Brother Tarlon," Ando said, voice calm but remorseful.

The entombed warrior's anger faded at that statement, and confusion colored the static of his words. "Mordellus… is gone?"

"It was destroyed four thousand years ago," Varnick said, his own uncertainty slipping into his voice. "Do you not remember?"

Tarlon was quiet for a long while. "… I do…" he said, stepping back from the Sister Superior. The sorrowful recollection that filled those two words stabbed into the hearts of all Black Lions present. It was so simple in its sincerity, so pure in its anguish, and Ando regretted the necessity of reminding the old warrior of that terrible time in the chapter's history.

Even Yen, an outsider to their brotherhood, could see the terrible sadness that now held sway over the once wrathful dreadnought, even if she was not fully aware of the context.

"I… apologize for my outburst, Sister Yen," Tarlon said, leaning his chassis forward in the approximation of a bow. "I thought I was… somewhere else…" He looked to Ando again. "I shall differ to your wisdom in this matter, Young Braedon."

Ando bowed his head to the ancient in gratitude and saw his command squad and everyone else who had been watching the standoff relax. "You honor me," he said. "And I understand your fury, brothers," he looked to Vandrick, "for I feel it too. I yearn to teach the unbelievers the error of their ways at the edge of my blade and through the barrel of my boltgun, but these are not heretics, who knowingly turned from the Emperor's light. They are frightened children, denied even knowing the love of the Emperor by their forebears. They must be given a chance to experience that love."

He left out that if they refused, they would be killed, because every Space Marine present already knew this. They would be given only one chance to accept the God-Emperor into their hearts or they would face the wrath of the Black Lions.

Varnick spoke first, "but how will we do this?" He did a poor job of hiding his disapproval at the declaration, but Ando knew he would obey regardless. He was a Black Lion after all.

"Simple, Brother Sergeant," Ando said. "We knock."

~o0o~

"One of them is coming up to the main door," said the student manning the screens that showed frontal exterior of the bunker. "He looks important."

"'Looks important?'" Repeated a student standing in front of the blast doors. "The hell does that mean?"

"It means he looks important! He's got fancier looking armor and a big ass cape. That doesn't scream 'important person' to you?"

"Enough," Weiss snapped at both of them, but kept her eyes on the blast doors. "What is he doing?"

When the invaders' presence was learned, every Huntsman student who could still fight rushed to the main doors, ready to repel any attack that might come. There weren't many though. Most of the students in the bunker were wounded, and about half of the ones that weren't had been too panicked to call for their weapons before the doors sealed. In total, there were only twenty-seven students, armed and fit enough to face the invaders.

Weiss stood at the front, Myrtenaster held out and ready, her form and posture perfect. Blake was beside her, as was NPR and Penny, the latter of whom still had that strange smile on her face, the one she seemed to almost always have, though now it looked far more forced.

"Nothing… okay, he stopped! He's right in front of the blast door," the student at the screens said. Weiss had not asked him his name. "He's raising his hand… He's-"

Knock, Knock, Knock.

Everyone looked at the blast doors in bewildered silence, some of them half expecting the knocking to be followed up by the doors exploding open, or a massive blade to pierce through the metal. Though utterly ridiculous, they would have fit in with recent events, and were far more believable than what had to be a high-ranking officer of the invaders knocking on the door like he was about to ask his neighbor for some spare fire Dust for his oven.

For a few seconds, no one moved or said anything. Then, the student at the control console pressed a button, and spoke. "Uh… hello?"

His greeting broke the spell that had taken hold over everyone. Weiss rushed over to the control station, Blake and NPR following behind her. The student had his thumb on the activation key for the bunker's outside speakers.

Weiss glared daggers at him, and he pulled his thumb off the button with such speed, she'd have thought it burned him. "What the hell are you thinking!?" She hissed, stomping forward as the other student backed away, hands raised.

"What was I supposed to do?" he asked, sincere in his cluelessness. "They already know we are here, and they aren't shooting the door open, so… I thought…" His words trailed off under Weiss' glare.

"He's looking up at the camera," Blake said, and Weiss turned. The faunus girl and NPR were looking at the camera screen, observing the invader that stood just outside. The boy had been right; the armor this one wore was much more elaborate than what the others wore, and an ash gray cape was draped over his oversized pauldrons, clasped in place by a roaring black lion's head. The blue eye lenses of his helmet stared back up at them, and Weiss could not help but feel like he was seeing through the camera itself.

"What should we do?" asked Nora, and Blake looked at Weiss. The heiress was incredibly tempted to just do nothing. A part of her wanted to just pretend nothing had happened and wait for the inevitable explosion as the invaders breached the bunker. But another part of her, one much louder and more sensible, told her that this was their chance to get out of this alive.

Weiss held down the speaker button, "There is a call button on the console to your right. Press down on it and we will be able to hear you."

"Weiss, what are yo-" Blake began, but a look from the heiress cowed her. The invader followed her instructions, moving over to the console and, after a moment of searching, found and pressed down on the call button.

"I am Captain Braedon Ando of the Black Lions Third Brotherhood," came a voice, inhumanly deep and tainted with static. "To whom do I speak?"

He spoke… eloquently, like a knight from the old fairytales and fantasy dramas. It was not what Weiss had been expecting him to sound like and it made her hesitate for a moment before replying. "You speak to Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Dust Company and Huntress-in-training of Beacon Academy."

She kept her voice calm and controlled, silently thanking her father (a thing she rarely ever did) for the many lessons in speechcraft he had her attend.

"Well met, Weiss Schnee, heiress of the Schnee Dust Company," the invader, Captain Ando, replied.

"Why are you here?" The question burst from her lips before she even realized she had asked it.

"Vale is taken, Weiss Schnee," The captain said, "this city is now under the control of my chapter, as are the other capital cities of your world. There is no point in resisting anymore. Lay down your weapons, and you will be shown mercy."

She almost blurted out that that wasn't what she meant. She meant why they were here, in Vale, killing people and shattering a near century long peace. She wanted to know what they hoped to achieve with all this wanton slaughter and chaos. Instead, she said, "You killed our classmates and teachers. Cut them down without hesitation. What's stopping you from doing the same to us the moment we open these doors?"

"I offer you my word, as a warrior of the God-Emperor of Mankind, no harm shall befall you should you surrender." Ando replied. He spoke with such certainty, like he had already secured their surrender.

It angered Weiss. She was a Huntress-in-training, and heiress to the largest Dust manufacturer and distributor on the planet! Who was this man to talk down to her in this way? "You may have taken Vale, but the other Kingdoms won't stand for this! Atlas will-"

"Atlas is gone."

Weiss stopped, eyes glued to the screen, to Captain Ando as he stared up at her from the other side of the blast door. Her friends were wide-eyed and slack-jawed, struck dumb by the statement, just as Weiss was.

"W-what?"

"Atlas has been destroyed," Ando answered. "What remains of the Kingdom is being cleansed by my brothers of the Ninth and First Brotherhoods. Mistral and Vacuo have also fallen to our might. There will be no one coming to retake this city."

Weiss' head swam. Atlas was gone? No. That… that couldn't be possible. They possessed the greatest military on Remnant! Their technology was second to none, and the city defense shield could weather any attack, manmade or Grimm. It had to be a lie. A way to break their spirits… it had to be…

But then why had the fleet above Vale not repelled the invaders? Where were the soldiers and war machines of Atlas? Surely, General Ironwood would have mustered a counter offensive against these 'Black Lions' by now. So why hadn't he? He couldn't be dead. He was the greatest military leader in Atlas, in all of Remnant, and he was a Huntsman Academy headmaster! He couldn't have been brought low by these… these… barbarians.

Barbarians, she reminded herself, who had overwhelmed seasoned Huntresses and Huntsmen at the Beacon skydocks with brute strength and firepower. Barbarians who had taken Vale and forced its surrender. Barbarians who could kill her and everyone in this bunker if they wanted to.

She stepped back, suddenly feeling dizzy. Blake caught her. She turned, and the faunus regarded her with an expression the heiress did not recognize. The others were looking at her too, their faces masks of stunned horror and shock. None seemed able to voice what they felt at the moment, not even chatty Nora or Penny, the latter of whom, a fellow Atlesian, was just standing there. Her eyes were staring off into nothing, as her mind was unable to process this terrible revelation. Weiss could not blame her.

"It… It's a trick." Blake said, breaking the silence. "A lie. He's trying to scare us into opening the door. Atlas can't be gone."

"You don't know that" Ren said, and Blake regarded him with a look that could kill, but he brushed it off with ease. "He's offering us mercy. We have to think about the civilians down there."

"Think about how they should die, you mean," the faunus hissed. "Because it seems to me like we only have two options: die fast here or die slow out there."

"Now you suddenly care about these people?" chimed Nora, "didn't you want to leave them behind and run?"

"Weiss Schnee," The voice of Captain Ando cut through the growing argument, uncaring and unaware of the turmoil his words had brought them. "This is your last chance. Surrender, and you may live to learn the glory of the Emperor's embrace. Resist, and you and all who stand with you will die here, damned and forgotten. Make your choice."

"Friend Weiss…" Penny's voice was quiet, and meek, a far cry from the innocent cheerfulness that had almost been sickening in its sincerity. She looked at Weiss, her expression off, like she could not understand what she was feeling. "Please…" she opened her mouth to say more, but nothing came out. She looked down at her hands, confusion and sorrow taking hold, though no tears left her eyes.

Weiss looked out at the others, at Blake, Pyrrha, Ren, Nora and the others, those whose names she didn't know. They were all staring at her, waiting to see what she did. All of them of them held weapons, but none seemed willing to raise them against her. She had taken charge in this disaster, helped organize the survivors as best she could, and had been the one to formally address their enemy.

Only now did she realize that she had become the leader of this wayward band of civilians and Huntsmen-in-training, and now, they were trusting her to make the right choice. She suddenly felt weighed down. Had this been what Ruby experienced when she was still team leader? Had this been the thing she had strived for and felt cheated out of when the school year began?

It was not what she had expected.

The unlock button for the blast doors stared up at her from the console, red and obvious against the white keys of the control pad. Her eyes then shifted to the call button, their only current means to communicate with the captain.

What felt like an eternity passed for the heiress as she stared at the console, thinking over her choices, their outcomes, their consequences, the risks and rewards. It lasted only a minute, but that moment would stay with the heiress for the rest of her life, no matter how long or short it would end up being.

Then, Weiss made her choice.

~o0o~

Author's Note: WOOOOO! DONE! MAN! This took way longer than it should have honestly. I've been trying to maintain a schedule of writing once every day for at least an hour or more if inspiration hits me. It's been really effective so far and helped me get this out way faster than I expected. Relatively anyway. Would have been sooner, but I also recently started work on rough drafts for an original fantasy novel I have been bouncing around in my head since high school. Got 3 and a half rough draft chapters down before I realized I should also try finishing Return of Faith.

This was a fun chapter though. Never did an interrogation scene like this before, probably could have been better but I think I was able to get across a real inquisitor vibe from Oscar in this. Also, unrelated, I find it hilarious how long it took people to realize Artoris was a reference. Everyone in the Inquisitor's retinue is, including the inquisitor himself. But yeah, we are one chapter closer to the end.

As always, please fav, follow, and review! Thank you!

DeadRich18 Out!