Here we go.


Cover Art: Kirire

Chapter 43


"Weiss Schnee…"

"Jaune Arc…"

The two regarded one another like titans on either side of a ruinous city, staring one another down and deciding if they should go for the eyes, the throat, or just rip out the other's heart and be done with it.

"If this were a problem in Beacon then Ozpin would have come here. And if there was yet another problem in Beacon then I'd have questions as to what the hell that parasite is doing in his school." Jaune strode past her to his desk, tore out his seat, and sat. He didn't offer Weiss a seat in what must have been a calculated power move. "You're lucky I'm here and not any of my sisters, or they'd have seen fit to capture you already."

Weiss sniffed. "I wouldn't be here if it were any of them, and I'd rather not have to waste my time in this pathetic little office at all if I can help it. Do you ever clean?" She dragged her finger over a shelf and tutted at the dust. "I don't know how you can live in such squalor."

"I apologise. We can't all hire servants off the back of the money we've made ruining people's lives."

Oooh, zinger. Blake mentally held up a "KO" sign over Weiss' head as the girl staggered back, furious. She collected herself – because there wasn't much she could say to that one – and stepped away from the shelf. "This is a waste of my time. Yours, too, for however small a value your hours are. I'm here to let you know that my sister intends to come and visit before the Vytal Festival."

"If this is another auction…"

"It's another auction."

"Bloody hell!" swore Jaune, and Blake groaned as well. Had the Schnee not learned from the last one? Of course not. They'd completely gotten away with it after all and made a tasty sum off the auction. It was ARC Corp who had to pick up the pieces. "When? What are they selling? Where?"

"I don't know when and where it is." Weiss shrugged her shoulders. "I cut myself off from the family and they've kept their business ventures away from me citing a respect for my wishes." Her eyes rolled as she said it. "They know I'd raise issue. The fact Winter told me at all… well, it's suspicious. Suspicious enough for me to think she knows I'd come and inform you."

"It's a trap, then," said Blake. "A trap for us."

Weiss didn't even try and deny it. "Most likely. But can you afford to ignore it?" She knew they couldn't, just as Blake knew she and Jaune would be there. "I said I don't know when and where, but those probably haven't been decided yet. I have an idea what it is. Which is odd. Winter and Willow never told me about the specifics before. They usually keep their auctions completely secret until the last minute to wow the guests. Another reason I think this one odd."

"What is it?" asked Jaune.

"They are calling it a cure. A cure for the affliction that is being an anomaly in the first place."

Jaune's nostrils flared. His gloved hands but into the wood of his desk, and there was a faint whisp of steam that rose from his cuffs. Blake moved without thought, around the desk and behind him, a single hand landing on his shoulder – it was red hot even through his jacket – and squeezing. He closed his eyes, released his grip, and let loose a heavy sigh.

"Is it real…?"

"I don't know." Weiss looked away, awkwardly. "I'm sorry."

Did she know? Maybe. It wouldn't have surprised Blake that every member of the Schnee family would know about every member of the Arc family; they were cousins in a sense, as well as being rivals, enemies, and quite likely to murder one another at the drop of a hat. It was in their best interests to be aware of ARC Corp members to avoid them, and Jaune's arms… well, they weren't that good a secret. Not to anyone who knew him.

A cure, though. A cure for being an anomaly. It's no wonder he'd react like that. If he could go back to being human then his family wouldn't be such bastards around him, and he'd be able to live a normal life. Well, as normal a life as anyone can have in ARC Corp.

The fact it was so perfectly placed to make Jaune shake to his core was all the more reason to think this a trap. The timing, too. They'd just started to dig into more humans-turned-anomaly, and now the SDC had a cure for it. Bullshit? Maybe. But maybe not. The SDC were obviously rich as anything, and they had plenty of anomalies to hand. It wasn't unfeasible that they'd be doing their own research. And really, why not have something else to sell? You could sell the disease that turned people into anomalies, and then the cure to turn them back.

"I've said my piece," said Weiss. "I should go."

"Before you do," said Blake, moving away from Jaune. "I need you to… uh… check your underwear."

A white eyebrow rose dangerously. "Excuse me?"

"Please check you're wearing the underwear you came here in. Anomalous materials in action."

"I don't see what-" Weiss peeked down and drew her skirt out. Her eyes bulged. "Ack! A-Ahhh! Ahhh! This aren't what I put on this morning!"

Jaune's forehead hit the desk.

"You can get changed in Jaune's room," said Blake. "Down there on the right."

"T-Thank you! I'll be right back!"

Weiss sprinted off.

Ruby's head popped up. "Wait. Jaune's room? Isn't that where I put Timothy?"

"AIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"SKREEEEE!"

"-EEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"-EEEEEEEEEEE!"

"-EEEEEEE!"

"Blake!" yelled Ruby, over the noise of two creatures screeching. "You did that on purpose."

"Yes," said Blake, smiling blissfully. "Yes I did."

An irate and embarrassed Weiss Schnee frog-walked out the door holding up a spare pair of Jaune's own suit pants that she'd seemingly stolen from his wardrobe without asking. Blake would have commented on that if not for the thought of how rumours would spread after people saw Weiss Schnee sneak back into Beacon wearing the pants of a man several sizes too large for her. It would be glorious.

/-/

"So," said Blake, sat on the corner of Jaune's desk once Timothy had been fed, Ruby had gone home, and everything had calmed down. "We both know this is a trap. Right? We're both aware of this fact."

"I'm aware of it."

"Good. Because I was worried you'd be so desperate at the thought of a cure for your situation that common sense would be overruled."

Jaune smiled faintly. Tiredly. "I am desperate and it was a close call, but paranoia wins out in the end. As it usually does." He leaned back in his chair, sighing as the chair creaked and adjusted to his weight. "I'd be lying if I said the mere idea of a cure doesn't have my heart racing. That's just the kind of cruel trick the Schnee like playing on people, though. The eight-ball was a lie and a trick, and this almost certainly is as well. There'll be some ironic twist."

"Maybe it's a gun and the cure is death."

"Yeah, I could see that. Bastards. It's going to be a problem, though. A claim like that, even if it's not real, is going to draw a lot of attention. The fact it's being held in Vale especially." He grimaced. "The Schnee know their business. As usual. An item like that would have few buyers in any of the other kingdoms. And that's mostly my fault…"

"What do you mean?"

"I'd best show you. Are you up for another night out?"

"Not really. San Valeo dragged my party spirit out into the street and executed it. I've nothing left in the tank."

Jaune blinked. "Yeah, me too. Fine. Tomorrow night then. Meet me here around nine. Casual clothes. We'll close up for the night. Skip tomorrow as well. Vale can keep itself standing for one day while we catch up on our sleep. Don't let the dreams devour your psyche."

Blake winced. "I wish you'd stop reminding me of that."

"Don't worry about it. There's nothing you can do to stop the dreams from taking you if they want you. No point panicking."

That really didn't help.

/-/

Wear casual, he said. Casual. Blake couldn't help but look to the heavens for help as she walked beside Jaune down the quieter parts of Vale. While she was in tight black pants, a cropped shirt and a white coat – quite stylish, if anyone asked – he'd simply put blue jeans on over his usual uniform. Literally. Jaune had blue jeans, a white shirt tucked into them, and then his usual black suit jacket over the top and his normal shoes. It was the laziest case of dressing down she'd ever seen.

"So, where are we headed?"

"Quiet place. Off the beaten path. It moves around every now and then as venues get switched." Jaune turned down an alleyway, and they walked past a few tossed aside trash cans, over-full binbags and the odd fox or cat scavenging in the trash. "It's a watering hole. Only really exists in Vale because of… well, me, I guess. Not that I made it or anything, but because I'm too soft to do anything about it. Or that's what my dad would say." He snorted suddenly. "Actually, no, dad would just punch me in the fact and tell me to step aside. Then he'd strip me of my position. Or maybe just kill me." Jaune stroked his chin. "I'm not sure which."

"Your damn family-"

"Oh." Jaune interrupted her. "One thing. I know this is technically against a lot of policies but… uh… don't start anything. Don't overreact. In fact, maybe don't act at all. Just do what I do and things should be okay."

Jaune walked toward the end of the alley and stopped. There was a metal barrier in the way – a fence that had long rusted over, with the doorway locked by thick chain and a padlock. On either side was brick walling. Jaune hummed and dithered around it, before he nodded, made a sound like everything suddenly made sense, and pressed his hand against the brick. The wall rippled like water and Jaune's hand and arm slowly sunk into it. He followed, taking a step into the mass with his eyes closed, and then being swallowed up by the wall entirely.

Blake stood in the empty alleyway. "What the fuck…"

A nearby cat hissed at her.

"Seriously? You couldn't have warned me or told me in advance what you were doing? What am I meant to do now?"

Follow, obviously. Blake groaned and slapped her face, then walked up to the piece of wall and placed her hand flat against it. The brick was cold. Solid. Wonderful. Just wonderful. Whatever Jaune had done wasn't working for her – probably because there was a trick to it. Blake pressed her fingers up and down looking for a loose brick, or a button, but couldn't find anything. A hand shot out suddenly, caught her wrist, and pulled. Blake yelped and instinctively tried to hold herself back, but Jaune pulled with all his might and she was launched at the solid brick wall.

And through, to crash into him.

"You looked like you were having trouble."

"You asshole!" snapped Blake, pushing off him and pounding his chest with a fist. "That was a solid brick wall! What if I smashed into it?"

"Eh, it's fine. Besides, it's not a wall at all. Look."

He pointed, and she turned, to see an open doorway behind them. No wall, just a perfectly normal view out into the alleyway. Not that she didn't know it was some trick or other. Blake glared back at him, and Jaune laughed.

"Okay. Okay. It's a mental thing. You have to know it's fake. You kinda knew because you saw me go through, but your eyes kept tricking by seeing a wall, and that stopped you fully accepting the truth. I put a stop to that. Come on, you weren't going to get hurt." He smiled awkwardly, and waved her further in. "That's the least of your surprises for the night. Come on. Follow me – and remember not to overreact. Or act. Just relax and do as I do."

To her absolute shock, Jaune pulled off his jacket and hung it among many others on a set of metal hooks off to the side. His white shirt beneath was pale enough that she could see his blackened arms underneath it, and the faint glowing of the fiery trails, like veins, didn't help. It rippled and moved, and faint whisps of steam rose up from it in places, while other bits of cloth had become sticky from moisture and stuck to his anomalous skin, burning lightly. He would have never shown that normally, and she wasn't sure what to think of him doing it now.

They walked together through the cloak room and into a wide open bar – a dinghy, run-down place with small round wooden tables and wooden stools, not unlike something out of an old cowboy movie. There was a long bar with stools before it, and people sat upon them, and a merrily playing jukebox in the corner sandwiched between two pinball machines and a one-armed bandit. A cloud of cigarette smoke hung in the air, primarily because there weren't any windows that she could see.

It wasn't like she looked too hard with everything else taking up her attention, though.

Anomalies.

All of them.

The man behind the bar had the head of a mosquito, and wings on his back that buzzed noisily. There was a puddle of ooze given vaguely human and female form draped over a table and seat, using her finger to slurp booze out of a bottle. At one of the pinball machines, a man with six arms – two human, two of a child, and two chitinous arms like a praying mantis, was wildly shaking and operating the triggers as a few others, equally bizarre, crowded around to watch.

"J-Jaune…?"

"Don't overreact," whispered Jaune, moving to the bar. He motioned for her to take a seat thankfully against the wall, while he took the other and cut her off. Blake was grateful for it. "Hey Allister! Got a moment?" shouted Jaune, waving to the mosquito? The man? Two eyes segmented by millions of little lines and hexagons turned their way, and Blake could see her face reflecting off many of them.

Despite the head and wings of an insect, he had the body of a man. Presumably, anyway. He was wearing a waistcoat, shirt, and trousers, and using his gloved hands to wipe a glass down, so she couldn't tell what he looked like under, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know. His proboscis quivered as he moved their way, vibrating loudly. Somehow, impossibly, he spoke with human words. It shouldn't have been feasible given he lacked a proper mouth.

"Jaune. My man. Hey. Ahah. Not here for any trouble, are we?" asked the half-insect, half-man, creature. "Everything has been above board. Just as you said it should be. No problems here. Has one of my boys been causing trouble?"

"Everything is fine, Allister. I'm just showing my new employee around. This is Blake. Blake, this is Allister. He's been operating in Vale for two years now."

The mosquito – Allister – relaxed a little, his wings humming louder now that he wasn't so tense. "That so? Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, little lady. The name's Allister. I run this little place – and I run it perfectly legally."

"If unofficially," added Jaune. "On all official terms this place does not exist – nor do the people inside. And I mean on official ARC Corp documentation. My family does not know about this place and we'd all prefer it stay that way."

"Oh, we sure as hell would! We're just trying to live our lives, you know? Or what's left of them. Don't harm no one. Not intentionally. Most of us just want to stay out of trouble. Don't run afoul of ARC Corp and don't cause Jaune here no trouble. Because if we did then he might be shipped out and one his… hah… less accepting siblings might be brought in. It'd be lights out for us all then."

"Can you get us both a beer?" asked Jaune. "We don't want to take up your time."

"Sure thing, man. On the house, eh? Ahah. Give me a mo."

The man shuffled off and spoke to a few others up and down the bar who had been giving them eyes. For all that Jaune apparently let them off with this, they were still nervous. It was clear ARC Corp wasn't exactly welcome here, and that Jaune didn't make himself a regular occurrence. Blake couldn't blame him that.

"They're all anomalies?" whispered Blake. "This whole bar?"

"More than just this bar," said Jaune, quietly. "As of right now, there are an estimated ninety-six sentient anomalies in Vale. Registered, anyway. Again, that's not official. I just have this deal with Allister. He and his crew are good at finding new anomalies that stumble into town, and they fill them in and tell them the rules."

"Rules set by you?"

"Exactly. Stay out of trouble, stay hidden, don't do anything to bring heat down on you. It's a bit of an informal deal, but it's beneficial. In my eyes, anyway. Everyone else would disagree. This way, though, they police their own. Allister and the regulars here know what will happen if ARC Corp finds out about this, so it's in their best interests to work with me. Sometimes they feed me intel, and other times they take care of problems before they become bigger problems."

"And they're humans turned anomalies?"

"No. There are a few like that, maybe eight or so, but most of them are natural anomalies. They're just sentient ones who are aware and capable enough to communicate with. Anomalies like that used to live in the wilderness and stay away from human eyes – the Grimm were good for preventing that – but it's inevitable some would be lured to the city. In Atlas, Mistral and Vacuo, they're rounded up and killed whenever that happens. ARC Corp has a zero-risk policy. I couldn't bring myself to do that." He shrugged helplessly. "Hence the reason I said this would be seen as me being soft."

More like being completely negligent. He was right to say his father might just kill him, because this could be seen as not so dissimilar to how the SDC acted with anomalies. It wouldn't surprise her if they feared Jaune becoming a new offshoot of the family working counter to their aims, at which point it really would be best to off him before he became a problem.

No wonder he'd waited this long to tell her. He had to be sure she'd be understanding.

"You're lucky this is me finding out…"

He grinned. "I know. You're more on my side of thinking. You'd be surprised how many people wouldn't be after nearly being eaten by a sentient house. Look at that new girl in Saphron's office. One bad anomaly and she's already gung-ho for eradicating them all."

True. Pyrrha's case was a little harsh however, on account of her having been trapped in an anomaly for five years. Blake wasn't sure if she'd be so forgiving if her first anomaly had been the Twilight City or something on that level. The Welcoming House had been terrifying, but she'd only been in there for a matter of hours.

Allister came back with their drinks, and Blake was more than a little hesitant about drinking anything served by a literal mosquito. Jaune didn't seem to care, however. He took the bottle and downed a mouthful. Allister leaned on the counter.

"Alright, Jaune. Spill. You wouldn't be coming here if it were just to show the new girl about. Something is up. You know we'll work with ya for what you've done. Is it one of ours? Is it about Ozpin? I've told you that we don't listen to what his little minion says. Comes around all too often as it is, and barely ever pays his tab."

"It's not about either of those things. It's about the SDC. They're setting up another auction in Vale."

"Again?" Allister reared back. "Crazy that anyone would go to those, but we're not crazy. You know that. Everyone here knows about who they are and what they do; hell, they'd sell us if they get a hold of us. What makes you think we'd be interested?"

"Because this time they're claiming they have a cure for being an anomaly." Jaune kept his voice low, and for good reason. There were already anomalies listening in and they didn't need this to get out. Allister leaned in as well and snorted under his breath. And somehow through a proboscis.

"Cure? Bullshit. There ain't no cure for what isn't a disease."

"I know that," said Jaune. "You know that. How many desperate anomalies won't think it's worth the chance, though? A chance to be human."

"Shit…"

"We think it's a trap. Specifically, a trap for me." He flexed one arm. "You know why. Now, ARC Corp doesn't have much choice but to spring that trap. As you know." He waited for Allister's slow nod. "And when that happens, well, things might get dangerous. And loud. This isn't a threat or anything, but you know that if there are any other anomalies there and this has any risk of going public, that I'll have to kill them. That goes double if this news brings my family."

"You think it will?"

"A cure for an anomaly, fake or not, is something ARC Corp would be interested in."

"To cure you?"

Jaune snorted. "I wish. They'd want to study it and see if it couldn't be replicated into a weapon to be used on all anomalies. Maybe to cure them, but it'd be just as useful to ARC Corp if it could target and kill anomalies as well."

"Fucking hell," swore Allister. "No wonder you're looking so stressed. Alright, so, you need me to warn people off this, am I right? Make it clear they shouldn't be drawn to this kind of offer. I can do that. The Schnee will have to advertise this somewhere and I guess we're the target audience. I can't promise it'll stop everyone going. There will be some that are desperate, or who think they know better than an old bug like me."

"I'm not asking for miracles, Allister. Only that you try. I'll deal with those that ignore you. I'll have to deal with them. Just be sure you warn those that will listen that this is a lie. It always is. You never get what you think you've got with the Schnee. Their whole schtick is monkey-paw promises and backhanded curses."

"I'll spread the news." Allister looked over their shoulders suddenly. "Oh geez. And I just sorted this place out, too. Please don't cause a ruckus."

Blake glanced back to see a short girl enter the bar. A very short girl. Her hair was an odd three shades of colour, and she had pale skin and mismatched eyes. Aside from that, however, she was perfectly normal. The girl caught her looking, smiled brightly, and waved one hand. Blake waved back even as she said to Jaune, "Isn't that the girl that hangs out with Roman Torchwick?"

"Hmm? Oh, Neo. Yeah, it- she's fine. Registered."

"She's an anomaly?"

"Sort of. Kind of a part of an anomaly."

Blake looked back as the girl skipped over to another seat at the bar and pointed at a bottle on the shelf. Allister hurried to fulfil her order.

"A part? Like a hive mind?"

"More like a body part. Think of her as more of an extremity if you will." As he was talking, the girl turned to them again, as if she could hear every word, and smiled. "Like a finger, though in this case more of a tentacle. It-She's sort of an unintended consequence of my amnesty program here in Vale. Heard about it and came to join up wanting to experience what life as a human is like. Most others here just lived here before, or wanted to try and have some semblance of a normal life, but Neo's situation is more… deliberate. Neo heard about this and decided it would be a good way for her to fulfil her goals."

"And those goals are?"

"Curiosity for the most part. Roman doesn't know. Obviously. Some anomalies want to live normal lives; others want to survive; then there are some who have other desires. Knowledge, experience, entertainment."

"Isn't she afraid of ARC Corp?"

Jaune laughed. It was a very stilted sound.

"Not going to answer that?"

"I don't think you want the answer. Ah, fuck me. I'd best go make sure she doesn't get curious about the auction. Damn it. Back me up – but don't say anything unless addressed." Jaune pushed off the seat and picked up his bottle, approaching the girl slowly. Very slowly. The kind of slow that let her have plenty of warning of their approach.

Allister saw them as well. "Ah, boss. I was just finishing up explaining the situation. Do you-? Ah, I'll make myself scarce." He waved a hand when the girl offered some lien. "Oh, no, no, no. You drink here for free. You know that! Ahah. I'll leave you to it."

"Neo," greeted Jaune. He stood a few feet away as the girl shifted to sit cross-legged. Her feet didn't even reach the floor. One pink eye closed as the other, brown, regarded him. She smiled and picked up her bottle, holding it out. Jaune touched his own to it, and then gestured for Blake to do the same. All three drank.

"I thought I'd come ask in person that you not attend the auction," said Jaune once they were done. "It's our belief the cure is a trick designed to lure me there, and that things will get violent. There's a very real chance ARC Corp might be involved in a fuller setting if things get too bad, and I don't want you dragged into that."

The girl cocked her head to the side and smiled teasingly. There was no fear there.

"I'd probably be killed if the truth got out," said Jaune. "And then Allister would be found and killed and the bar would be shut down." He nodded to the patrons, while Neo simply tap-tapped her fingernails on her bottle. "And there's a very real chance they'll go through my records and hunt down Roman and kill-"

Blake blinked the dark spots from her eyes and took in the ceiling above them. The lights buzzed, and ceiling fans whirred slowly. There was a coppery smell and she brought her hand up to wipe at her nose. It came away bloody.

Someone groaned beside her and she looked over in time to see Jaune, face creased in pain, push himself up from the floor. He'd been on his back like her. There were other groans too, from patrons at the bar as they struggled back onto seating, clutched at tables, and looked over in worry. Allister dragged himself up the bar with an agitated buzz to his wings.

"W-What was that?" asked Blake.

Her head was pounding.

"A-A mistake," groaned Jaune. "That's what it was. Right, Neo?"

The girl rolled her eyes and waved her hand, but did nod. Had she done this? How-? Blake's vision swam as she pulled a chair over and dragged herself up into it. Jaune did the same, no longer steady on his own feet.

"I wasn't making a threat toward Roman. He's a good- well, he's a guy. And you know I've done my best to keep him safe. He's not my enemy. But he does know more than he should, and you know how ARC Corp are. So, I'm asking you Neo – begging you – to stay away from that auction. And keep Roman away as well. Not that I think he'll want to go anywhere near it. Will you do that? Please? For his sake, if not mine."

Neo rolled her eyes, sighed, and then nodded. The action seemed to pain her.

Jaune breathed out, relieved. "Thank you. I'll not take up any more of your night. Blake, let's go."

They busied their way out the bar and back into the alleyway, where Jaune brought out a handkerchief to dab the blood away from his nose. It hadn't been long in there, yet Blake found she couldn't guess at the time. Her scroll said it had been over an hour, but not unless time worked different in there. She'd have said fifteen minutes tops.

"Do I want to ask what kind of anomaly she is that you'd beg her not to show?"

"A powerful one. Let's leave it at that."

"At least she has a good disguise. You'd think she's just a normal girl with odd hair. Well, a normal mute girl."

Jaune shoved his hands into his pockets. "Neo isn't mute."

"What? She can talk? Then why didn't she?"

"Neo did talk. We just couldn't comprehend the words. Not all languages are safe for human ears to hear, and some are too large for our brains to process. The reasons it doesn't talk is because a whole load of dead people wouldn't do much to sate its curiosity."

"What is she?"

"I wish you'd stop calling it a she," said Jaune. "But I suppose it's safer for you to think of it that way. Let's just say that not all anomalies are made equal, and that some are so powerful they can imprint their demands upon the world and make them reality. Neo – or that thing you saw in there – is more like an imaginary figure made real, serving as a host for but a thousandth of a mind far more colossal."

"That… makes no sense…"

"That's for the best. The last time I tried to fully comprehend it, it went and showed me a glimpse of its real form." Jaune started walking, but not without a parting shot. "I was in a coma for two weeks."


Neo…?

Or Neolathotep?

You don't want to see the real Neo. The real Neo is not something the human mind can comprehend. Poor Roman has no idea how lucky/unlucky he is.


Next Chapter: 27th February

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