"There can be no covenants between men and lions, wolves and lambs can never be of one mind, but hate each other through and through; therefore, there can be no understanding between me and you."

- Achilles


Blake leaned against the bottom of a large boulder near the clearing in the Emerald Forest that had quickly become the designated training area, and manually forced each one of her muscles to relax.

If she didn't, she'd cramp. This was the time she had to rest between sessions, and if she stayed stiff throughout it she'd just injure herself. It didn't matter that she was alone in the woods with Perseus, she told herself. If he'd wanted her dead… well, the Chairman of Vale had died of a heart attack, and she could too. The only thing he'd accomplish by waiting until they were alone in the woods during their scheduled training session to get rid of her was to ensure everyone that knew about their training — everyone he cared about — would know exactly what had happened.

So, with this in mind, Blake tried to relax.

She failed.

Why had she agreed to this, again? Ah, yes, because she'd given up escaping Perseus' wiles for her the moment they'd locked eyes. The moment he'd pitched his plan for one-on-one training sessions that morning and suggested Blake take part, she'd agreed — despite Yang's objections.

It was better to make life easier for him. He might not have been the corrupting force behind the White Fang like she'd thought, but like she'd said, he didn't need to drag her into the woods alone to make her disappear.

"I'm not going to force you to do anything, you know," Perseus broke the silence between them, leaning against the sloped rock directly next to her and reversing all of her attempts to manually relax as the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood on end.

Blake swallowed. Staying silent would be rude. She couldn't be rude. She had to say something.

"Why haven't you told my team about me?"

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Shut up! Her and her damn mouth were going to get her killed. Sooner rather than later, from the look of things.

Perseus' face contorted in confusion. "They already know, don't they?" he asked, and then snapped in realization before Blake could respond. "Ahh, they don't know you were in the White Fang. Was wondering why Yang never mentioned that but wouldn't stop going on about not forcing you back to your parents."

He continued before Blake could focus herself into non-existence. "I'd tell you you should tell them, but I'm not that much of a hypocrite. I won't tell them, though, you have my word. It's none of my business — as long as you don't hurt anyone on your team, that is."

Blake shook her head rapidly. "I won't."

He smiled. "I believe you."

Blake blinked. Really? It was that easy? Why? Did Yang's vouch really mean that much to him?

Blake was still reeling from the revelations of that particular conversation when Perseus pushed off the rockface and gestured for her to do the same, beginning their second bout of tutelage.

When Blake next came back to the rock she was sweaty and panting. The first hour had been teaching and demonstration, but the second had far more been practice, which meant Blake was stuck repeatedly attempting to strike at the weak points of Perseus.

Blake was used to striking at vital points, but that's not what he'd said she should go for. He'd told her to go for their weak points, vulnerable areas necessary to keep fighting that were more exposed than others, and in nearly all cases more vulnerable than vitals. After all, a set of armor was designed to protect your neck, head, and heart. Most fighting styles were designed to prioritize protecting those areas. Most people were especially reactive to defending with aura when it came to an attack on those parts of their body, as well.

Not as much when it came to the tendons in their wrists and ankles, it turned out.

For a moment Blake had been stupid enough to think he was teaching her to tear out her opponent's wrist instead of their jugular out of some sense of mercy or morality and thought about how odd it was for someone like Perseus to hold himself back in that way. He quickly explained that an injured enemy was not only one that couldn't fight anymore, but also one that had to be cared for; one that had to be protected, dragged back, and healed. A drain on resources. An injured enemy was better than a dead one, because an injured enemy was a liability to your remaining enemies.

That, Blake decided, was much more in character for the Mistrali crime lord.

But now she was suffering the consequences of trying such against Perseus for the last hour straight, and she was beat. She was pretty proud of her conditioning, but an hour of almost non-stop combat with a beast like Perseus was something else entirely.

Said beast was not suffering from the same issues, leaning against the rock casually with barely-strained breath.

"Have you called your parents?" he asked, and despite her state of exhaustion Blake recoiled quickly, nearly falling off the rock with how frantically she moved.

"I told you I'm not going to force you into anything." Perseus raised his hands in surrender with faint amusement, tossing her the cold water bottle in his left hand. Despite herself, Blake caught it and drank greedily. "I'm not going to tell them. Hades, Kali doesn't even know that I know you. It's just a question."

Blake swallowed her last ice-cold mouthful of water, cautiously sliding back towards him on the rock, but not allowing herself to be as close to him as she had been in her distraction.

"No," she replied curtly, though not sharply. Not to Perseus — not even with this. "I left that life behind years ago. I don't have the right to go back now, even if I wanted to."

They sat in a nerve-wracking silence for a while, Perseus staring at the side of her head while Blake desperately pretended not to notice.

"Can I be honest with you?"

Blake tensed further.

That was a deceptive question. He was asking her permission to speak freely?

He was similar to Ozpin in that way, but… more. Like he considered himself so far above — no, beyond — the rest of them that the little power dynamics that people used day-to-day were inconsequential to him. When by all rights he could say or do quite literally anything he wanted to her, he sat there and patiently asked if had had her permission to speak his mind. Where a person in a lesser position of power would lord it over Blake and do as they pleased, Perseus was as outwardly courteous as if it were she who had power over him.

Blake knew better than to think it meant anything, though. That tone could flip on a switch — Goodwitch had found that out the hard way.

Ever conscious she was making him wait, she hesitantly nodded.

"You piss me off." Blake flinched harshly. "I haven't spoken to my mom in six… seven years?" he reached up to scratch his head, looking to the treeline in distant thought. "Your mom reminds me of mine, too. She's a good woman, with a strong heart. I'd kill for the chance to talk to mine again."

Blake winced. The turn of phrase wasn't quite as metaphorical coming from Perseus as it might have been from anyone else.

"My parents won't want to hear from me," Blake muttered when it was clear he expected her to respond.

Perseus laughed sharply, the thin veneer of pleasantry cracking for a moment. "As someone who apparently knows your parents better than you do, you're dead wrong. You're important to them — important enough that Sienna kept you around."

Blake stared at him with wide eyes. "Are you saying…"

"Sienna only kept you around to keep your parents off her back," he confirmed. "I'm sure it's the only reason she kept Adam around before I made it clear he was useful — she knew you were a package deal, but you were important enough to your parents that she put up with the person who would eventually usurp her."

Blake bit her lip, but he continued before she could muster up the courage to remind him that he was the one who had orchestrated the entire coup in the first place.

"I did the same."

The color fled from Blake's face.

"You're useful. Adam cares about you, and so do your parents. You're leverage over both of them — both Menagerie and the White Fang."

"I was," Blake glowered. That was the only reason he'd be telling her this — because she wasn't useful anymore. Maybe her parents cared about her at first, but it had been years. They have to have moved on, and anything she might've had with Adam was over and done with. Consciously or not, she'd freed herself of her use to Perseus. That was a good thing because it meant he didn't need her, but it was also a bad thing because it meant he didn't need her.

Blake swallowed, suddenly realizing exactly what kind of position she was in.

"You are," he corrected.

Blake scowled at him with narrowed eyes. "Whatever Adam might've felt for me, he doesn't care about me anymore."

"Just like your parents?" he challenged, and Blake shrank back, suddenly remembering who exactly she was speaking to. "You seem to overestimate how quickly people get over those they care about."

They sat there for several seconds silently, Blake staring a hole in the ground and Perseus frowning into the distance.

"Your parents care about you," he said eventually, shoving his hand into his pocket and coming out with a thin strip of folded paper. "Use it or don't, it's none of my business, but don't claim you never had the option." He flicked it to her, and she caught it hastily. On it was a ten digit number with a simple label scrawled underneath.

Kali Belladonna

"You did well today." he changed the subject suddenly. "It'll only be a few more sessions before we start seeing diminishing returns from this and you'll be ready for team trainings."

Blake nodded shortly.

"Now scram."

Ducking her head, Blake mumbled her thanks for the training and fled, picking her way through the trees on the way back to Beacon with instinctive grace.

She passed by Jaune on the way, lumbering his own way through the forest towards where Blake had come from. They shared a miniscule nod as they passed each other, Blake as exhausted as Jaune was nervous.

Her right fist clenched as she walked, the paper held within it crunching and folding.

For someone who claimed it was none of his business, Perseus certainly managed to make Blake's life complicated.


Pyrrha walked through Beacon's courtyard in a companionable silence with her team, a soft smile on her lips.

It was the Friday after they'd gotten back from the Forever Fall forest — a week after Percy had left — and Pyrrha was practically glowing. With their return from the field trip Jaune had finally agreed to let her train him again, and the rift that had existed between them finally seemed to have closed.

She smiled wider, watching her team leader walk them to the library, a single pace ahead of them.

Their classes weren't over for the day, but they had a free period before their next class and had decided to use the time to get some homework done. It didn't hurt that team RWBY also had the period free, and the library provided a convenient meeting point whenever they wanted to hang out.

It was as they were approaching the doors to the library that Ren nudged her, nodding over her shoulder. Pyrrha turned to find a girl approaching them with a cocky sway to her hips, her uniform matching Pyrrha's own but with the addition of a simple black beret on her head. Pyrrha watched as Jaune noticed the girl and observed her with a once over, eyes straying just a little longer around her swaying hips before moving jerkily away.

Instantly, Pyrrha found herself disliking the girl.

"Can we help you?" Jaune asked, pausing just outside the doors to the library.

"You can't, but she can." The new arrival pointed at Pyrrha.

Pyrrha blinked. "Me?"

The upstart grinned and nodded once.

Jaune frowned. "What do you want with Pyrrha?"

The new arrival — who it was becoming clear was an upper classmen — rolled her eyes. "Easy jealous boy, we'll just be a minute." she reached out to grab Pyrrha's arm and guide her away from her team.

Ren's hand was gripping her wrist before she could, positioning himself in front of her while Jaune did the same on her other side. Nora circled around Ren, cracking her knuckles with narrowed eyes and a small smile which betrayed how excited she was to have a new pair of legs to break.

"Don't speak to my team leader like that." Pyrrha's fists were clenched.

The cocky girl raised an eyebrow as their team squared off against her. "Woah, it's like that, huh?" she withdrew her hand, and Ren let it go easily. "Sorry, guess we got off on the wrong foot. I'm Coco," she introduced herself. "and don't worry hot stuff, I'm not here to steal your boyfriend." she winked at Pyrrha, whose face flushed with anger. "But I am just here to talk to Pyrrha here, and I'd like to do that alone if possible."

Nora looked to Ren for confirmation where Pyrrha's safety was involved, Ren looked like he wanted to interject, but looked to Jaune for a decision. Jaune looked to Pyrrha, who was already looking to Jaune. They flushed.

"Aww, adorable," Coco cooed. "Seriously though, I'm skipping a class to be here right now so it'd be great if we could get a move on."

Pyrrha sighed and waved off her team. "I'll be fine guys, go on ahead. I'll catch up, promise."

Jaune sent her a reassuring nod and patted her arm as he passed by to the library, while Ren locked eyes with her for a brief moment.

I'll be fine, she tried to say.

He nodded, jerking on his sleeve once to tell her he'd be close by, and then Pyrrha was alone.

"Interesting team," Coco quipped, leading them towards the side of the hall so they weren't blocking the doorway.

Pyrrha tried her best not to let her displeasure show. "What is it you wanted?"

"Right," Coco snapped, "I'm here for my teammate to ask about some stuff going on in your city."

Pyrrha frowned. Argus? It was definitely a settlement, not a city, though she supposed some people might not care too much to distinguish between the two.

"Your teammate?" Pyrrha asked, looking up and down the hallway quickly. "Why didn't they come themselves?"

Coco rolled her eyes. "Yats was all 'I don't want to bother Lady Nikos' and 'she has bigger things to worry about' and 'she probably has people bother her all the time'. He doesn't even know I'm here."

Pyrrha smothered a smile, her opinion of the girl rising slightly. Pyrrha hated that attitude. She was a person like anyone else, not some untouchable figure to revere.

"This is the first time anyone's approached me about Argus," she admitted.

Coco waved a hand at her, as if to say 'see?' to someone who wasn't there. "I told him you were just a student like everybody else, but noooo, Lady Nikos is too important to look at, much less talk to!"

Pyrrha couldn't suppress her smile this time, nor her small giggle. "What is it I can help you with?"

"Right, right." Coco waved, as if to dispel the previous topic. "Basically, he wanted to know if there was any news about the Rhodestown hearing. It's been weeks, and there's been nothing back from the city. Yats is starting to think they just ignored it."

Pyrrha frowned. "The Rhodestown hearing?"

Coco blinked. "You hadn't heard of it? Huh." she shrugged. "Guess it is a big city. Still, you don't know about it at all? Nothing?"

Pyrrha shook her head.

"Well." Coco deflated. "Not sure what to say. It's a big — or at least I thought it was big — corruption scandal in Argus. One of the local councils revoked a permit from a landowner to operate apartments there, and evicted all the tenants. The scandal is that the council there is supposedly in cahoots with another property owner, and revoked the permit so the residents had no choice but to go to him. Yats — my teammate — well, his mom got evicted and she's been sleeping in shelters. It looks like she's going to have to leave Argus entirely, and he's pretty worried about her."

Pyrrha frowned harshly. "Argus' council?"

Coco shook her head rapidly, waving her hands. "No no no, one of the local councils. I don't really know anything else, I thought you would've been involved, considering… well, nevermind." Coco laughed nervously.

Pyrrha pursed her lips. "I'll look into it." she promised.

Coco's smile was sincere, if a bit dim. "Yeah, thanks. Let me know if anything changes." she said, but the grimace she wore told Pyrrha she didn't think anything would.

"I will," Pyrrha told her, lips set into a thin line. "And thank you for letting me know."

Pyrrha promised herself she'd get to the bottom of whatever had happened — even if it wasn't corruption like Coco had said.

She couldn't think of a better topic for her meeting with Argus' chairman tonight.


"Nations are guided only by their own interests and have no obligation to other countries which do not conform to those interests."

Indira Gandhi

Percy glared at the stack of paperwork on the desk in front of him — his desk, he reminded himself, for all that he'd only used it a small handful of times it was technically his official desk in Mistral.

They were rebuilding Haven's campus on the first floor as a palace for him, for all that he'd been upset with the idea it had apparently been the king's palace before Haven, and taken over by the school when the monarchy was abolished and the school was founded at the same time. Now that it was all but destroyed, the council wanted to rebuild it as a royal palace once more.

Shiro had convinced him to go along with it as a national symbol of strength, which was a frustratingly good argument when much of what made the people safe from the Grimm was that they believed they were safe.

Heather had assured him she was fine with it, and Percy had made sure to donate the land he owned on the second floor as well as a large chunk of the third to the academy. He'd also made sure that Haven had more funding to rebuild than his new palace did — much more. He was forced to admit that building the palace wouldn't be a bad idea, but he'd be damned if they were doing anything more than digging out a foundation while the rest of the kingdom was still recovering from the war — or in the time just after recovery, when Percy would finally have a chance to invest his lien instead of pouring it into the military.

And so, operation 'make it take twenty years to complete the royal palace' was a go.

He shook his head, that was already taken care of. Much more ominous was what hadn't been taken care of. Percy nudged aside the stack of paperwork that he hadn't yet completed with a pencil, consigning it to the edge of his desk where it would remain ignored. Shiro would have to make do with what he'd completed so far, he had more important things to worry about.

Things like RWBY.

He'd spent the last week training them one-on-one, but when a fieldtrip came up that would take them north of Vale for a weekend, Percy had said his goodbyes and returned to Mistral. He'd been beginning to outstay his welcome, and decided to leave before drawing suspicion. For now, team JNPR was looking after them; that would have to be enough. He was bereft of many other options.

But it wasn't all dour. The week had been productive, and he was glad that just about all of them — them being both JNPR and RWBY — had progressed enough that team training could start when he returned.

He grimaced. Almost all of them.

But there wasn't anything he could do about that now. While he was away from them he could only plan for the future, and prepare himself to prepare them.

Mostly, that was preparing to train them further. While what he'd already given them was just for a week and a half and could come off as more sporadic, to really take them under his wing like he intended he'd need to sit them down and actually talk to them; to make sure they understood exactly what being trained by him entailed, and what would be expected of them. Not that he'd take no for an answer — the stakes were far too high to — but whatever the circumstances, they needed to have an understanding.

He'd let them come up with their own reasons as to why he was training them. The ones with a lower opinion of him — cough Blake cough — would assume he was using them somehow, and those with a higher opinion might be a bit confused why he was training them, but would eventually jump to their own conclusions.

Another lesson he'd learned since coming here, and one that had come from Jacques at that. Don't reveal your intentions; the ones who believe you would have come to the same conclusion on their own, and the ones who don't would inevitably reach their own conclusions whether you told them or not. If you let everyone come to their own conclusions, then everyone's belief aligned with their worldview, and nobody believed you a liar.

Percy thought that could be flawed — sometimes you needed to try to convince someone to shift their worldview — but when that wasn't an option it was solid advice. It worked well here. What they believed didn't matter to him, so long as they went along with it.

Pulling a different — smaller — stack of papers in front of him, Percy began to hastily reread his notes. Writing in Ancient Greek was both incredibly convenient for him, and also meant there was no risk of someone stumbling upon his notes and finding out about RWBY somehow.

Plans and ideas for how to prepare RWBY — and JNPR beside them — filled the pages. Phases of training, different areas to prepare them in, how to get them as good as possible as fast as possible without risking accidentally killing them. How to get them experience as fast as possible without putting them in real danger.

He knew now he couldn't keep them from danger, but there was a large difference between keeping them from danger and actively throwing them into it.

Quickly finishing his read through, he double checked the time.

Pulling out his scroll, Percy pulled up his contacts list and tapped one of the favorited ones at the top, only listening to a single ring before it was picked up and Winter's face was displayed across his scroll. Percy quickly flicked it to the terminal on his desk before shoving his scroll back into his pocket.

"Winter," he greeted with a quick smile.

"Percy," she greeted back, returning his smile. "It's good to see you."

Percy nodded his agreement. When they'd last parted it hadn't been on the worst of terms, but it had been tense. He pursed his lips. Unfortunately, this call was unlikely to be much different.

"I was planning on calling to ask for your help with a training program," Percy began, sending a document through their call, "but I just got word that we've captured one of your agents working in Mistral."

The accusation was clear. Percy eyed one of the bundles of papers on his desk that he had gotten to, the report from military intelligence — much less expansive than the Malachites and focused nearly entirely on counter-intelligence — about having caught an agent of the Atlesian Intelligence Agency mid-operation, attempting to infiltrate the military base inside Mistral. Unless she'd been framed somehow, the proof was hard to refute.

"I see," Winter's smile had dropped, but her tone wasn't overly brusque, just neutral. "Are you informing me to negotiate the return of my operative, or was there something else you wanted to talk about?"

Percy blinked, leaning back slightly in his seat. She admitted it just like that? No denials, no excuses, no justifications?

He frowned. "I was expecting an explanation more than anything."

Winter shrugged. "It was an intelligence operative, working on behalf of my intelligence agency, not on my specific orders but with my blessing." she smiled teasingly. "Off the record, of course. Officially, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Percy scowled. "Do you think this is a joke? You were spying on me, Winter."

Winter blinked and reclined, her amusement quickly fading. She tilted her head in confusion. "Do you think I don't know you're doing the same ten times over in Atlas? Percy, you've been spying on me since I took office."

Percy's eyes narrowed. "That's different."

Winter's head tilted a bit further in a way Percy might have admitted was endearing in any less serious a situation. "How's that?"

Percy closed his eyes and pinched his nose with a deep sigh. He didn't want to have to play games of power dynamics — not with Winter.

"Don't make me do this," he pleaded tiredly, opening his eyes and looking back to the terminal. "Can we not fight? I don't want every time we talk to be like this."

Winter sighed and imperceptibly sagged in her own seat, which for her was the equivalent of slouching onto her desk. "Percy, we're friends and our nations are allies, but Atlas comes first. I'll do whatever is necessary for its continued wellbeing."

"You wouldn't be general if not for me, Winter," he pointed out with a frown, upset that this discussion even needed to be had.

"That's true," she agreed with a nod, straightening. "I wouldn't be General of Atlas if not for you, but you also would not be in charge of Mistral if not for me."

Percy winced.

Winter deflated. "We agreed to be partners, Percy, and it's worked out for both of us. Partnerships are about compromise, and I've done everything you've asked of me."

"We aren't equal," he said sharply. "Mistral is in a much stronger position than Atlas and we both know it."

"Our nations are far from equal," Winter granted, once again on guard. "And perhaps our alliance is not on equal terms, but we are equals in our partnership. If you disagree, please correct me," she invited, unflinching even in her obviously weaker position. Percy couldn't help but recall how that steel is much of why he liked her in the first place, and why he'd known she would perform as Atlas' General.

Percy remained silent. Were they equals? They'd never said as much, but then they'd never really hashed it out in the first place. Just an agreement to work together — that by supporting each other they'd both end up better off. He supposed that taken by itself that did make them equals, but Percy had made similar deals with people all over the world he called his subordinates. Rarely did he actually make anyone admit subservience. Adam, when Percy had given him the White Fang, and the Asturias', when they'd tried to brainwash him.

But the others? Junior, Roman, the politicians of Mantle and Vale, and Mantle's businesses? Sienna, before her removal, even much of Mistral, up until the battle with Atlas. They were just partners — partners where Percy held all the cards.

But they were different from Winter. Winter didn't balk under the clear overwhelming difference in leverage. She was made of sturdier stuff than Junior and Roman — sturdier stuff than anyone else in her position.

"It's your choice," Winter eventually said, once the silence had dragged on for well over a minute. "As you said, you have the position of power in this relationship. You can have a partner, or another puppet. Don't take my words as a threat; as a puppet, I'll do what's best for Atlas, which at the moment is to obey your whim. But if you do wish us to be partners, it's a two-way arrangement. I would expect us to be loyal to each other as we have been, but I will not be your subordinate."

Percy cursed internally. Just a couple months ago she'd held his life in her hands, and he owed her his life as much as she owed him her power. She was right — he owed her his loyalty as a partner and as a friend as much as she did him. That was what loyalty was. She had saved his life along with that of a hundred million others, and Percy owed it to her to remember that.

He'd promised himself that he'd break the trend of betraying those he owed his loyalty to — was this where he started, or would he break his word to himself so soon? It was the same position he'd been in every other time. If not for Winter's actions he wouldn't have been alive to tear her down.

Except it was different, because every other time he'd been at this crossroads there was never really another option. He had to betray Jacques, or everything he'd worked towards would be as good as gone. He had to… subvert Alex because otherwise the nobility would work against him. He had to remove Ozpin's allies in Ironwood and Lionheart because they'd both come for him first.

Here, there was an option. Winter was agreeing to work with him — she was offering her cooperation, just not her subservience. When had that become a dealbreaker? When had his need for control — not just to accomplish his objective — become important enough to sacrifice his closest friend?

It hadn't. He wouldn't let it.

"We are," Percy decided eventually. "We're equals."

"I'm glad to hear it." Winter took his decision in stride, softening slightly. "As for the spying, is it really that much of an issue?"

Percy rested his head in his left hand and closed his eyes, waving his other hand tiredly. "It's not. It was the sign of disloyalty that I was upset about. But you're right, I'd be a hypocrite to be upset about that."

Winter pursed her lips, an uncharacteristically emotive expression from her for such a serious meeting. "We should meet in person," she suggested. "Our last meeting was a little… tense. It would be nice to reconnect after that, and this conversation isn't exactly relaxed either."

Percy smiled slightly into his hand at the small joke, listening to Winter echo his earlier thoughts.

"I agree." Percy sat up sluggishly, pulling his face from his hand. "Unfortunately, I can't leave Mistral. I've been away for too long recently, and I really can't afford another trip so soon."

"I could visit you there," she offered, and Percy perked up. "My workload has calmed significantly."

He smiled. "I'd like that. Speaking of which, how are things going on your end?"

The riots, they both knew he meant.

"I had to be a bit heavier handed than I'd have preferred," Winter admitted. "But the problem is thoroughly dealt with here. It's gotten much worse in Mantle, but I have no way to fix that. Unfortunately, to keep subversive elements out of the city, trade with Mantle has had to be reduced, and what does come through is strictly monitored."

Percy shoved aside the frown that threatened to come forth. It would be ideal for Atlas and Mantle to stay with a healthy amount of free trade and migration, considering how many people had once commuted between the two, or who had family in both cities. But that wasn't Winter's fault — she'd dealt with the disorder, and it was Mantle's failure that they couldn't do the same.

"I'm glad to hear things are going well on your end," he said, making a mental note to check in on Mantle soon. He'd heard similar unrest was occurring in Vale, but he'd been distracted with RWBY — not that he regretted it, they were the priority, but he still needed to deal with Mantle when he could.

Speaking of RWBY, he had meant to give Winter an update on how her sister was doing. He decided to save that for the end of their conversation — it was bound to end things on a high note.

"Now," Winter began, apparently reading his mind with a small smile. "Why don't we get started on that training program you mentioned?"

Percy shot her a thankful smile.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea."


Pyrrha's frown continued to deepen as she read through articles on her scroll.

There were only a few — only a couple local news sites had touched the scandal in one of Argus' districts — but they painted a poor picture, as did the single video of a journalist reporting on the situation.

A waterfront landlord's permit was revoked, and the property had been seized to be turned into a local government building.

Apparently the reason for the permit being revoked was that the project was too big for the area, but according to the reporter they'd just approved a much larger housing project nearby.

The owner of the larger project owned a lot of property in the area, and supposedly was loaning money to businesses that the council members owned. In fact, the chairman of the local council was staying in a building the larger businessman owned, and the reporter claimed there were accusations that the chairman was paying below market rent.

Pyrrha kept a heavy dose of doubt in the back of her mind — she was only seeing one side of the story, and Shiro had engraved into her that she should never only get one perspective, and she should remain objective when making an important decision, no matter what it was.

However, she struggled to hold onto that objectivity when the reporter was shown attending a meeting of the local council. He was the only one in the room other than them despite it being open to the public, but was blown off completely, the council ignoring the multitude questions he asked.

But, Pyrrha still clung onto a sliver of doubt. Facts could be distorted, videos could be edited. She shouldn't jump to conclusions.

Jumping as a call request came up, Pyrrha checked the time before accepting.

"Lady Nikos!" The face of Argus' chairman popped up on her screen wearing a pleasant smile.

Pyrrha smiled back. Despite refusing to call her anything other than what formality demanded, the chairman of Argus was a good person — nice, understanding, and patient. That might have just been because Pyrrha was technically his boss, but Pyrrha was pretty sure they both knew she couldn't fire him.

Well, she could, but it would be a disaster she wouldn't be able to handle, and she had no reason to in the first place.

"Hello Mr. Philips." she returned his smile.

The meeting continued as it normally did, the chairman running her through various events and changes throughout Argus, most of which had to do with any laws the council was debating or had passed that week. He took her through the arguments of both sides, and his own opinion on it — which almost always sided with one side over the other.

During a lull in their conversation when Pyrrha would normally excuse herself and end the meeting, Pyrrha brought it up.

"Have you heard anything about the scandal with the Rhodestown council?" Pyrrha asked as confidently as she could, studying the chairman's reaction.

He nodded seriously. "I've heard of it, my lady. What is it you'd like to know?"

Pyrrha sighed in relief. For a moment, she feared the chairman would just dismiss her concerns.

"If it's true," Pyrrha said simply. "Or if the settlement is doing anything to look into it."

The chairman grimaced sympathetically. "Unfortunately, even if the allegations against the local council are true, there's nothing technically illegal about what they're doing. While it's obviously not a good thing if it is true, it's out of the government's hands — it's in the media's court to try to make sure they're not re-elected."

Pyrrha frowned, recalling how little press attention the scandal had been getting on the net.

"How is that legal?" she asked. "If the allegations are true, I mean."

"There are laws preventing corruption," the chairman explained, "but they're not perfect; there are loopholes. Loans from one business to another business which two people happen to have ownership in isn't damning, and living in a property owned by someone definitely isn't. In order to win such a case, it'd take a full prosecution, which means months or years to collect evidence by which time they might not even be in office anymore. One of the tenants could press charges if they'd like, but even after all that the case would still be up in the air."

Pyrrha pursed her lips. "Isn't there anyone we could have look into it, at least?"

The chairman smiled sympathetically. "I can have one of the settlement's prosecutors look into it for you, if you'd like — some surface-level investigation, at least, though nothing that would hold up in court. They would likely be your best bet."

Pyrrha smiled widely. "That would be wonderful."


Blake flicked from article to article in the library, all about the same subject.

The faunus riots.

Things had been getting better — things were better — before Blake had left the White Fang. Now, the peace that had come between the races was rapidly deteriorating.

And Blake knew who was to blame.

With the advantage of hindsight, Blake could admit that Adam had always been crueler than necessary — a bit more violent than would help, a bit more ruthless than was really needed.

But he'd always fought for the right thing — even if it played into Perseus' hands, everything they'd done had always helped faunus, or helped to tear down their enemies. It was the same reason why despite fearing him immensely, Blake didn't detest Perseus. She'd not been his biggest fan when she thought he was corrupting the White Fang into a more violent, ruthless force, but after seeing a bit more of the picture she'd been forced to admit that might have been Adam more than him. And even if he was the one causing their less than savory actions, his plans for them had always included helping faunus, so when it turned out Adam was the one who had been responsible… well, it hurt, but Blake could accept it, because it was ultimately for the good of the faunus people.

She couldn't accept provoking violence at a faunus union protest as helping the faunus.

She was the only one he'd made aware of that little excursion, that part of the mission. The rest of the squad sent had been there to ensure that if things did become violent then the faunus workers weren't defenseless.

Blake and Adam, meanwhile, were busy making sure it would.

Adam's ally had some sort of semblance or illusion technology that would make it look like faunus had struck first meant that the humans would strike first. He'd tried explaining it to her — that this was the only way to stop the White Fang from dying a slow death, that they didn't have a choice, that his hand had been forced.

Blake had refused to hear it.

Faunus were dead because of him — faunus which would have survived otherwise. Faunus — people — which would have lived the rest of their lives in peace.

Scrolling through another article listing a death toll at a rally, Blake's nails bit into her palm and began slowly bleeding away aura.

As far as she knew, she was the only one Adam had told. Whether it was out of some misled belief she'd vindicate him or understand, or whether he thought she'd find out anyway it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that she had the chance to make things right where nobody else did.

She had the responsibility.

She'd run away instead of confronting Adam. Oh, she knew how that would go — she would never win, his grip on the organization was absolute. But maybe she'd have sparked some doubt somewhere, in someone. Maybe she'd have been able to expose what he was doing in Vale, Mantle, and Atlas — maybe she'd have been able to get word out to enough people to draw attention to the mysterious circumstances of all the protests that had gone violent.

But she hadn't. She'd ran away like a coward.

But now she was free, and she could do something.

And she would do something. She'd been too distracted with the impending threat of Perseus for far too long, and even after she began to accept that he wouldn't be kidnapping her she was very aware that the White Fang was his. Blake couldn't do so much as look at them the wrong way while he was hovering over her shoulder.

But now the crime lord was away, and the Blake would play.

She bit her lip, noting down another address, another police officer taken into custody after suddenly turning violent.

Perseus had said he'd be coming early for the Vytal Festival, which meant that at most she had a couple of months to do something. She was on the clock.

Clicking the terminal closed, Blake stood and left the library. She couldn't afford to wait.

She had to act now.


Hey everyone, hope you enjoyed.

Nothin to say, other than last chapter I have pre-written to where I can post without editing 0_0, lots of irl stuff goin on. I'm good busy, but still really busy.

Hopefully won't need to go 2 chaps a month soon. I'll let you know if I do, but I'll try n beat it.

Next Chapter June 10