The smell of incense rushed through her nose. The curtains, they were red as blood. The walls, the columns and even the floor oozed history and majesty. The dress of the servants was refined, the nobles even more so. The Emperor...he smiled at her. And her father...he...

Fire...

FIRE!

She awoke with a gasp.

Cheng Ming groaned as a piercing head-ache shot through her mind. It felt like someone had taken a ancient war drum and started pounding inside her head. Her eyes shot open and instead of waking up in a fine summer palace, she was inside her tent. Outside, men and women drilled relentlessly and the sound of the sea flew above the din. She sat up on her cot, the sensation of her legs moving pushing forward empty bottles onto the floor. She winced, the sound of the glass falling and rolling twice as intense.

So much for Imperial blood.

Her hand reached for the scroll on her tableside. Her face morphed in dismay as she saw how late she had woken up. The longer that she wasted time, the less lien she could make. Contracts have to be fulfilled, people beaten into submission. Her legs moved as she tried to stand.

Then, Ming yelped as her feet accidentally stepped on a nearby bottle and she slipped. She landed on the floor with a groan. And as if on cue, her scroll started playing that damnable triumphant music.

It was at this moment, the flaps of her tent opened and a elderly voice spoke. "Jun Wang, are you awake? There are visi-"

The voice stopped speaking as soon as the speaker saw Ming on the floor, her blanket on her back, and her cheeks redder than red.

"You saw nothing," Ming insisted, trying her best to look dignified despite the fact she didn't look like it. Her Minister and Lieutenant, Zhuge Hong chuckled, his robes fluttering as he walked up and collected the messy bottles on the carpeted floor. He paused, glancing at her scroll playing that hit Atlesian propaganda song. With how pumping it was to the psyche, it was becoming popular to listen by the troops...

Mercenaries, he corrected himself. With no Mistrali Empire left, they were all nothing more but mercenaries.

"I did not, Jun Wang," came his loyal reply as he went to clean up his Prince's tent. Ming groaned some more, her willpower forcing her raging headache to begone. It did not do as she wished however. Her ears perked as Hong finished packing up the bottles and took with him a wooden bowl. Ming rolled on her back, looking up at the roof of her tent then finally, her minister came into view still carrying a wooden bowl.

"Time to wake up," he said, holding the bowl. Muttering curses under her breath, the vaunted heir of Mistral stood up on shaky legs. She glanced at the bowl Hong held and saw it had water. Sighing, she splashed some to her face. And then some more.

Feeling refreshed, she took another breath of air as she made for the back of her tent to change. As she did, stripping behind a divider that gave her some privacy, she thought to what Hong had said earlier. "You said we had visitors?" she asked.

Hong had deposited the bowl back to where it was and nodded, looking outside. "Yes, my prince. It seems that they are interested in hiring our services."

Ming paused to consider what Hong was saying. They weren't camped inside Vale but rather inside a township on the outskirts of the city. They could have went and found a place to stay inside the city with little issue however, that meant expensive fees that she couldn't be arsed to pay. There was a fee on their weapons, their supplies, their breathing even.

"They must be desperate...or they are that impressed by us that they are willing to go out of their way here," Ming theorized. Really, an email or directing it towards their CCT Net webpage would have been more than enough. It wasn't the medieval ages anymore.

"By going here, our good visitors have placed value in meeting you. They are doing you honor, my Prince," Hong said.

'As they should,' Ming thought. As much as it stroked her ego, Ming had to admit that going outright to see her was intriguing.

"Where are these visitors now?" she asked.

"They are inside the village, buying drinks for the men," Hong revealed.

"We must see to them immediately!" Ming said hurriedly. She was going to miss free drinks!

The air felt choking, thick with tension, as two men glared at each other. The world did not matter, only them. At their side, the waitress spoke.

"Last one to pass out wins," she informed them. "In three..two...one!"

At that, Land and his Mistrali opponent reached for the mugs of beer nearby. They brought the tankards to their lips and soon, cool fresh beer poured down their throats. The tavern clapped and cheered, as the men battled it out.

"Drink! Drink! Drink!" they chanted. The first mug was finished. Then came the second one, then the third. With each mug finished, the wilder the tavern got.

I leaned back on the bar counter, a glass of wine in my hand. Everything had started relatively friendly. With the faunus deal secured, I could go and do my thing by finding the one mercenary group that I could contract to do my evil corporate bidding. They called themselves Argyraspides or the Silver Shields on account of their predecessors carrying silver-plated shields. Despite the Greek motif, their leadership wasn't Greek at all but Chinese. The reviews they had were stellar if not for their high prices. I suppose they could do a big markup since most of them were formerly soldiers of Mistral. The average Silver Shield looked no older than thirty and each man had adapted to the changing times. Before, they would have looked no better than a carbon copy of Alexander the Great's soldiers but now, they only had the silver shield as a emblem. Each merc carried a variety of equipment that I was pretty sure their quartermaster hated.

At my side, Emerald sat quietly, munching on a sandwich I ordered for her. I had asked the little chocolate chip to stay in the airship we came here in but the little girl was adamant about not being far from me. When we had returned, she had ordered quite a lot of chicken cordon bleu that my bank had called me to ask about the constant orders. It was fine however. Little Emerald can eat whatever the fuck she wants.

"They're noisy," she muttered, looking far too cute for what could be a murderer in the making. She grumbled as I ruffled her head.

"Soldiers are," I said, sipping my wine. Ahead, Land was gaining speed and drinking way more than his opponent, a man that I was pretty sure a carbon copy of Zhang Fei. Beside him, his brothers were urging him on to outdrink the Mantlese Doppelsoldner. However, Land seemed to have liquor as blood and persevered while his opponent collapsed. The tavern cheered as Land stood up, yelled his praises to the God of Light, and drank the final mug. I snorted, putting my wine-glass on the counter, and clapped.

Little Emerald clapped with me as well albeit her claps were slow and unsure. The unconscious Mistrali was taken away by his sworn brothers and tended to. Land turned around, face red and breath reeking of alcohol, as he stumbled towards me.

"Howd'd I do?" He slurred.

"You didn't yell a slur, at least. Good job," I said, clapping.

"These Mistralis ain't bad, y'know? We should fight a war with them," he hiccupped as he stumbled onto the counter on shaky legs. He glanced down at Emerald, eyes lidded.

"You think I did good, girl?" he asked drunkenly. Emerald glanced towards me, hesitating. I gave her a nod. In reply, she looked up at him and nodded as well. A roaring laugh left his lips as he then ruffled her green head, earning protests from the child. I laughed, walking forward to pat her head as well, earning a pout from Emerald.

Then, the doors to the tavern opened and a voice proclaimed, "Here comes the scion of the God of Light!"

The mood turned, shifting from jovial to one of reverence. The Silver Shields all stood at attention and faced the doorway as a brown-haired woman entered, a smirk on her face. "At ease, you rotten toads!" she barked. The men raised their glasses at her then resumed drinking. Snorting, she turned her direction towards me.

"Emerald, stay here and take care of Land, will you?" I whispered to Emerald. Her eyes widened.

"...W-what?" she squeaked.

"Just make sure he doesn't wander off, okay?" I asked her. We both turned as we heard snoring. Land had fallen asleep against the bar counter, a smile on his lips.

"..Okay," Emerald muttered, clutching her sandwich.

"I ain't go nowhere without you and him, alright? Just watch over him like he's your sleepy grand-dad, aight? I trust you," I said, ruffling her hair. At that, a particular shine came to Emerald's eyes.

"Okay!" she repeated herself, a bit more confident now. I offered her one last smile before I pulled away and made for my target who was also walking over towards me as well.

Cheng Ming, the daughter of the Third Imperial Prince of Mistral. She was what was left of Mistral's Dynasty after most of the Imperial Family were killed when the populace rebelled against them or they died in the subsequent dynastic struggle. I knew of her mission which was to restore her family to Mistral and her band of fighters were those that still believed it could be done. At her side, her advisor followed, arms folded within his robes and his expression was of quiet confidence. I knew him as well, Zhuge Hong, a minister that stuck with her family thick and thin.

I would have to be careful of him.

I stopped walking however, choosing to stand next to a door. Inside, an empty room was made available for her and I to talk. She stopped before me, her arms crossed as she sized me up.

"You're the visitor making my men drunk, hm?" she said, her voice rich and full of life. I nodded.

"That would be me. They looked thirsty," I said graciously. Her expression went still for a second before it went back to gracious.

"It is well appreciated. Feeding the Emperor's Army is a gesture not forgotten," she said with a smirk. It took a bit of willpower for me not to snort.

"Now that we are here, might we discuss business?" I asked, gesturing inside.

"Of course," she nodded.

And so, we went in.

We sat across each other, my posture relaxed and unconcerned. Hers was dignified, strict. At her side, her advisor stood still and with his arms folded in.

"There is no need for introductions, I am aware enough of who you two are," I began, my eyes settling on them both.

Ming looked amused. "Oh? Do tell me of your homework, Alexander Wayland," she said with a smirk. It would seem she had done her homework too...or my name was just becoming common.

"You are the daughter of the Third Mistrali Prince, Ming Yi, before he was lost," I began, not mentioning how exactly her father died. The smirk on her face died as I mentioned that. The room felt heavy for a moment as sparks of purple electricity flashed.

"My Prince," Zhuge Hong said, stepping forward and placing a hand on her shoulder. That calmed her down, significantly.

"My apologies," she said with grit teeth. "Unpleasant memories."

"No offense intended," I said smoothly, fighting back the mild fear I was feeling. I had seen videos of her fighting and I had to admit I was not that confident in throwing hands with her.

"None taken," she said with a huff. "Continue," she bid me.

And so I did.

"You have formed the Silver Shields as a open banner to restore your family to the empty Mistrali throne. However, you lack money. Hence why you have charged high rates for your services." I said, my tone final.

"I do not need to be a genius like Hong there to know that Mistral is in chaos," she said, tapping her advisor on the shoulder. "Bandits, brigands, and thieves rule the continent while the city itself is run by the corrupt and the greedy. The city and the people deserve better."

Her eyes glistened with confidence. "They deserve me."

"Yet, you aren't in Mistral," I pointed out. She froze for a second then grinned.

"Contracts!" she boasted. "We're just here at the moment to rest. Soon enough, we'll be leaving for our next one!"

At her side, Hong's expression was quiet for a second before he nodded. "The strength of my lord is patience. We are resting now but our situation is perfectly tenable."

I admired their confidence if it wasn't for the fact they were both lying. Contracts for them have dried up. Vacuo had no big issues to deal with at the moment and while Mistral was a hot zone, no one was hiring them. And because no one was hiring them, their finances weren't secure either. The way that her men, literal war veterans, brightened up when I offered to buy them food and drink all but told me they weren't in the clear. The way their eyes glinted in the light all but told me they were aware of that too. But they couldn't say it out loud to me lest they weaken their position.

"Oh?" I feigned. "Since you have contracts up next then I suppose you are too busy for me to hire?"

Her reaction was immediate. "Oh? I did not say that!" she said, leaning in and slapping the table. "Come on, Wayland. What do you have for me?"

I smiled. "I want to hire your company, on a long term basis."

Ming sat back down, her lip curling in a frown as she realized she'd be made. She crossed her arm. "How long term?"

I nodded. "You see, my company is going to expand onto to heavy weapons soon. Very heavy weapons. However, Atlas prohibits the selling of such things unless it is going to the military or to a licensed group. My company already has security forces but their permit is only for civilian purposes. It will take too long to get them up to speed but you? Your company is already licensed."

Ming looked thoughtful, turning towards her advisor. "Hong? What do you think?"

The advisor turned to me. "You are aware of our rates, Mister Wayland?"

Expensive, I was well ware. "I think we can argue for a discount," I said.

A long barking laugh left Ming's lips. "A discount? Ahahaha!" she guffawed, utterly amused as if I said an amazing joke. She shook her head, looking back at me

"We aren't a public market to haggle, Wayland," Ming tutted at me. "If this is how you want in, no deal."

I took a breath. Fucking arrogant nobility. No wonder people hated their ass. I leaned in, glancing to her. "With all due respect, you are in no position to argue either. I have seen the state of your troops. They were hungry when I arrived. You were also nestled in a outskirt village than in Vale proper despite being certified."

"Are you testing me, Atlesian?" Ming growled, her eyes narrowing as purple electricity crackled. I returned her glare.

"Ask yourself. Can you really afford to say no to me, right now?" I challenged, staring back.

The room felt heavy, like rain was going to come. But it did not as Ming forced herself to calm. "...Tell me what your discount is."

There we go. "No markups. I will be paying you the same industry standard with the others. To make up for this, you and your men will be granted access to current and future R&I arms. Furthermore, you will be made a subsidiary of the company. Your existing structures will remain in place. There will be changes in the way you fight however."

"And how big will this change be?" Hong inquired, his eyes calculating. I glanced up at him.

"Cosmetic and the way you fight. I have a extensive list of arms I am going to be putting up and your current styles are incompatible to it," I said, noting their haphazard gear. I ain't going to deal with that shit.

At that, Ming became thoughtful. "Give me a second to think about it with my advisor," she requested.

"Do as you like," I said, standing up. "I will be outside."

And outside I went, closing the door behind me. I noticed immediately however that the tavern had gotten quiet, each patron all glued to the television by the bar counter. I raised an eyebrow, wondering what could be so important that veterans would stop what they were doing to watch the news. I walked forward, pushing past through. My ears perked as the newscaster's voice spoke.

"This just in, there is a fire going on in the SDC Courrières Mine in North Solitas! We are receiving live footage of the incident from our ground correspondent, Walters!"

The screen changed as the camera revealed smoke rising from a distant mountain. The smoke was thick, black and sparks were flying about. Bullheads both military and with SDC markings flew here and there evacuating people. The reporter, he was trying to speak but his words were cut as a blinding flash of light consumed the screen.

She was ushered to corporate immediately. As soon as the news had hit, the gangly men in suits had arrived to take her and the Academy had far more important things to do than stop them.

Winter Schnee glanced out, her face impassive as she watched the protesters standing outside the SDC HQ, placards in hands and impassioned shouts leaving their lips before rows of riot-police watching them. Across from her, an SDC representative watched the crowds as well and shook her head. "These people a protesting for nothing. Rescue efforts are going underway," she proclaimed.

The Schnee Heiress, for now, turned her attention towards the floozie her father had sent to take her. "Their families are trapped in that mine," Winter said plainly.

"You won't find mine there, Miss. We aren't animals," replied the rep, snickering. Winter fought the urge to grimace at floozy's apathetic comment. She could go and talk her down but she was again her father's creature. An attack on them was attack on him.

"Right..." Winter left it at that to look again outside. She had access to information that this middle-manager didn't. Courrières was one of their many mines under their control. It had been owned by them for a while. Initially, it was among the safest of their mines but the quality had slipped downhill through the years...much like the SDC. She shook her head and prepared herself. The riot police had taken a step aside and allowed their car to enter the SDC courtyard.

Time to put on a brave face.

The flashing of cameras and microphones being shoved her direction was what greeted her as soon as she stepped out. Journalists and protestors alike made their presence known.

"Miss Schnee, what is the SDC's plan to rescue the miners?"

"Miss Schnee! Miss Schnee! What are your comments to this disaster?"

"Schnee Murderer!"

"Please! My brother's in there! Please, for the love of the Gods, rescue them!"

The middle-manager quickly stepped in between her and the crowd yelling at them. Winter's heels clicked as she made her way into the SDC, behind her chaos. The last thing she heard before she entered the maw of HQ were countless Atlesian airships and bullheads prowling the skies towards the direction of Courrières. The lobby was in chaos, multiple employees walking here and there bearing papers and such. In a corner, a few were watching a screen where live footage was broadcasted from the site. Winter paused to watch as well.

Cries of horror left people's lips as the screen flashed as a bright flash engulfed the screen. Winter near bit her lip, her hands balling into a fist as the newscaster called out to the ground crew in a panic. She forced herself to look away, face up, as she made her way for the elevator to the top floor, where her father and the board awaited.

She stepped in, alone, and released a sigh she had no idea she was holding. This was becoming a fiasco that she'd find hilarious if it wasn't for all the people that would lose something from this disaster. Well...her father was always someone that had a plan for something. Despite his faults, he had that at least. The elevator stopped and its doors opened with a ding. Winter stepped out and found herself in a long hallway. A front desk bearing the SDC logo was all that stood between her and the boardroom.

"They're inside waiting for you, Miss Schnee," the receptionist said. Winter nodded and rounded the receptionist. Her heels clacked against the red carpet floor, the side walls bearing images of the SDC's past. The first mine they owned, the biggest yield they had and so much more pieces of history. She stopped before a particular one, that of her grandfather triumphantly raising a pick as he led miners forward through the snow. If anything, Winter was thankful that he was no longer alive to see what was happening to his company and his family.

He would be heartbroken.

Shaking her head from reminiscing, Winter resumed her path the boardroom. Two suit-clad men with dark sunglasses appeared out of nowhere. They silently opened the doors for her to enter and she did. She had expected a boardroom in the midst of discussion, plotting rescue lines and aid to be given to their workers. But such a thing was only possible in her grandfather's day. No, the board was in chaos.

"What are we going to do? If the public finds out that Courrières was in neglect, they'll demand the Council to investigate the mine! We'll be investigated!"

"We're taking a dip in the stock market!"

"I had a personal stake in Courrières? How am I going to get my money back?"

Winter resisted the urge and it took all effort not to sneer at this disgusting...she paused her thoughts. To think that she shared the same air as these creatures made her want to jump out. "Father," Winter announced. "I have arrived."

Her father who had been quiet and content to let the board panic among themselves glanced up. "Quiet," he ordered. And just like that, the board members paused their bickering to pause, faces unsure, before they went back to sit on their seats.

"Now that my Heir is here, we can begin," Jacques continued, subtly telling her to sit down. She did so, in the one free seat closest to him.

Seated, Jacques glanced up. "How did the fire start?"

"W-well," one of the board members adjusted his glasses. "We are still unsure. We need to investigate the ruins first before we know. But...it's most likely that mishandling with the dust sparked the match."

"Stupid animals. What's so hard about being careful?" a man commented, earning snickers from the others.

"Quiet," Jacques again ordered, glaring at the men. They then tried to make themselves as small as possible. Ignoring them, Jacques turned to Winter. "What do you recommend we do, Winter?"

She paused to think, the other leaning in to hear. "Do we have schematics for how the Courrières is dug?"

Jacques nodded and clicked on a button, allowing a model of Courrières to appear at their table. WInter turned to it, thinking some more. "It is safe to assume that the explosion has collapsed sections of the mine. I...I am quite sure that the miners trapped there are either dead or the rescue will be-"

"There will be no rescue," Jacques interrupted.

Winter paused. "No...rescue?"

He leaned in, pointing at the tunnels. "Winter, look at how the tunnels of Courrières are dug. The pitheads may be interconnected by underground galleries but that will only increase the debris that no doubt have blocked places. Trying to rescue the miners will not only be a waste of time but a needless expense, not when we simply hire new workers by the dozen."

Inwardly, Winter trembled. That was...she...

"No rescue," Jacques said with finality as he leaned backwards.

"Y-yes," she stammered, forcing the bile back in her throat as she continued on, trying to hide the shaking inside her core. "Until we have live feed again, I do not know what can be salvaged. We...should wait until the fires have safely died down to not risk more of our staff. "

She finished and leant back, looking right as rain.

"I agree," Jacques nodded as he turned his attention back to the board. "Members of the board, I have heard your concerns and I assure you, the SDC will not suffer from this. Firstly, our stock will take a dip at the stock market but such is natural in the face of this disaster. Tomorrow morning, it will stabilize as soon as the heat dies down. It will stabilize more as soon as we can re-assure the public that Dust supplies will flow. The Dust that we have withheld, we will release it bit by bit. By doing that, we can still ensure a flow of supply while justifying its cost. Secondly, the mine itself is insured hence the SDC doesn't have to fear bankruptcy."

He leant forward, eyes narrow. "Thirdly, there will be an official inquiry to this. A natural consequence from how public this disaster is but do you think the Council will really delve deep to expose us when they themselves have shares in this company and when the Kingdom relies on us for Dust?"

He shook his head, voice cold and logical. "No, they will go and demand us some minor concessions to make it look like they did something then in a few weeks, this will all be forgotten by the public and we all can resume our lives. This disaster is a setback, yes, but look at the facts now. We remain yet a multi-billion lien industry, Remnant looks to us to power their homes, their cars, their needs. We are untouchable, ladies and gentlemen."

"The Council will surely summon us and question us, sir." A member asked.

"And I will be there to answer. I assure you, I have them at the ready." Jacques said confidently.

"But what about the faunus?" a board member asked. The elephant in the room had to be addressed.

Jacques Schnee leaned in, eyes cold. "What about them?" He then scoffed. "The ones in our official lists will be paid their dues, publicly. That way, we can avoid being accused of inaction."

The same board member pressed forward. "But...we had more employees there, sir. Not on the lists. Will those workers and their families be paid too?"

Under the sterile light of the board room, Jacques Schnee raised an eyebrow. "What workers?"

Winter Schnee listened to this.

And then she made her choice.

Whatever goodness that was inside her father had long since died out, replaced by snake wearing his skin and whose only purpose in life was greed and avarice.

By tomorrow morning, she was out.

Damn her father.

Damn these cretins that had the gall to call themselves 'elites'

The seas were calm, the wind flowing through the water. But soon, the waves splashed as a ship coursed forward. And from it, screams of horror left its cabins.

"By the brother gods! No! NO! NOOOO!"

Cries rang throughout the cabin as a bright light engulfed the screen then...nothing. Silence fell among the crew of the Sunflower as the watched the newscaster frantically call out for the ground crew but, there was nothing. Others sobbed, hugging one another. Some watched quietly, frozen in place. That was until a man stood up, expression in quiet fury.

"In front of all these witnesses, I swear on the Gods, I shall not rest until the Schnee Dust Company pays for this injustice!" John Brown proclaimed, eyes blazing in zeal. His cry was taken up by the others who turned to him. They did not care he was human, only that he was going to do something about it. Sienna, to her surprised, found herself being lifted up too.

A new voice however, joined in.

"No, we will not."

Eyes turned to see Kali standing by, her eyes red with tears, her makeup in ruins, and her cheeks puffed from weeping. But, she held her head high as she walked into the cabin.

"Kali. You have seen what has happened," John Brown argued. "We all know how that blasted company treats the faunus, slaves in all but name. Something must be done!"

Kali stepped up, looking up at him. Her expression was set. "And there will be, properly, by talking with the SDC and with Atlas."

John Brown raised his hands up in frustration. "Talk! Talk, Kali! I am eternally tired of hearing that word: talk. It is nothing but the word of cowardice! Talk will not save the choking faunus bereft of light and warmth!"

Sienna felt her heart lift at that. Atlas and the SDC had never listened to them despite their petitions, their talks and pleas. They needed...more. Kali looked pained but still, she trudged on. "What do you intend to do then? Take men and attack the first SDC facility you see?"

Horror went to her face as Brown nodded. "Perhaps. If that is what it takes for justice then it shall be done."

"This will not win us, Brown," Kali said quickly, unyielding. "We won our freedom through blood but slavery was ended by paper, Menagerie was gained through negotiation!"

She took a breath, forcing herself to calm. Nothing was going to be gained by shouting. They needed to talk. "Brown, Sienna. Come with me to my cabin, please."

Brown wordlessly walked forward, his expression stern. Sienna followed shortly. They left amidst murmurs and unsure looks between the rest of the crew. Arriving at Kali's cabin, the Chiefess of Menagerie sat back on her chair, the only mark of luxury in a spartan cabin. SIenna stood next to her, quiet, as Brown stood strong and unabashed.

"Kali," Brown began, his eyes still blazing. "This cannot go on forever. Action must be needed to enshrine true equality between humanity and the faunus. Do you think that the corporate man and the fat councillor will treat your people as equals without the threat of blade?"

"And usher in violence?" Kali snapped, her patience nearing its end. "Brown, the violence that you so desire, I understand it. I feel it. But this will scare humanity, the kingdoms will look to us as the violent beasts they portray my people to be and re-arm! I will not allow my people to be martyrs no longer!"

The zealot and the idealist glared at each other. Sienna understood both. It was true, very much so, that through institution and talk, a peaceful dialogue could happen. But what if the other side refused to listen? Sienna was well aware of the SDC's terrible practices regarding its faunus workers. Paid very little, housed in cheap work camps made with the lowest bidder, abuse both physical and emotional, company men forcing their workers to purchase useless company scrip. It was honestly laughable how comically evil the SDC was being towards her people, the sort of stuff Sienna thought only cartoon villains would do.

But this wasn't a cartoon. The abuse was very much real.

"What do you plan to do, then?" Brown pressed, crossing his arms.

Kali's ears twitched. "I have spoken with Ghira via scroll. He wishes to organize Remnant's biggest strike from Vacuo to Mistral, North to South. All faunus will refuse to work until the Kingdoms force into law protections for faunus workers."

Sienna ran the numbers in her head. Her people accounted for the most dangerous work such as mining, forestry, and other stuff deemed dangerous by most folk. If they did the strike then it would hit the one place the Kingdom's cared the most, their wallets. It would hit the Kingdom's hard but still...it would not make the SDC accountable. The countless faunus dead buried or choking, they needed justice.

They needed retribution.

Brown still looked unsatisfied. "And let those responsible for this sad disaster go free?"

"We will demand that SDC be held accountable too through a fair trial," Kali sighed. She looked worse for wear, the stress of the situation making her age a little bit more. "The rule of law will win us, not violence. If we let violence continue, Brown, then what is the use of laws? Of civilization?"

"Such laws, Kali, are only useful when they will be enforced freely and without the taint of sin," Brown spat. He rounded forward, looking directly into her eyes. "Do you truly believe that the SDC will pay...for this?"

Kali had no reply.

At that, Brown shook his head. "Out of my respect for your wishes and that of your husband, I will not attack the SDC. Not now, at least. You wish to fight the SDC in the courts, do so. Your people and mine need my help in Mistral. They will get it."

His stare turned hard. "However and should my business there conclude and the Atlesians refuse to bring the guilty to responsibility...then I, John Brown, shall."

With that, he turned on his heels and made his way out of her cabin. As he left, Sienna turned to Kali and found her looking at the floor, clutching at her dress. "No more martyrs, ever again."

Sienna had looked at Kali and her husband as leaders, as mentors. But seeing this...she couldn't help but balk at the sight.

John Brown was right.

Action was needed.

And the Belladonnas and those that supported them needed to understand that. If not...then perhaps the Faunus needed someone to give them that.

She left Kali to weep by herself, walking after Brown. "Human!" she called out to him.

The man stopped, turning around. "Miss Khan?"

"Where are you going?" she asked, looking up.

"Mistral, Miss Khan. The Branwens have to be dealt with first. Far too many have been taken by them," Brown said, shaking his head. He raised an eyebrow. "Why, has Madam Belladonna sent you to stop me?"

Sienna shook her head. "No. I want to come with you."

Despite him being a human, Sienna felt she could trust John Brown. The man was consistent in his fight for her people's freedom. Any human willing to take up arms for the welfare of the faunus and bled for them was alright in her books. Besides, he clearly had the good idea that force was going to be needed. She had attended far too many rallies and protests for the faunus only for it to achieve...nothing. The idea was there but she needed more. The human was clearly crazy but who was she to turn to for new instruction?

"I thought you had to go to Atlas?" Brown pointed out. Sienna resisted the urge to growl. A part of her whispered that going to Atlas was just a waste of time since the objective of her visit had already blown up, literally. Sienna paused to think. She could still go and get there, organize the local White Fang Chapters towards her ideas but...she didn't exactly have the same respect and gravitas the Belladonnas had. Weak as they were, they had credentials.

She needed those too.

She had been riding their coat-tails for far too long.

But there was public exposure to be found in Atlas at the very moment. No, she was well aware how this was going to end.

"No, when the Sunflower docks in Anima, I am getting off the boat with you," Sienna decided. Besides, fighting the Branwen tribe would give her the necessary prestige.

"Very well then," John Brown nodded. He then smiled, a rather sick thing considering how elderly he looked. "Welcome to my League, Miss Khan."

"League?" Sienna asked with a raised eyebrow.

"My militia of faunus and human volunteers," explained the old man. "The League of Gileadites."

A/N: Taken from my QQ and SB

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