"I'm hurting you to make you a better soldier in every way. To sharpen your wit. To intensify your effort. To keep you off balance, never sure what's going to happen next, so you always have to be ready for anything, ready to improvise, determined to win no matter what. I'm also making you miserable."

- Mazer Rackham

Percy leaned against the railing of the ship, the cold metal wire biting into his palms as he stared out at the endless expanse of waves. The crashing of the waves against the hull of the ship was a familiar rhythm, one that usually soothed him. But tonight, it did little.

Behind him, grunts of exertion and the soft whistling of a blade cutting through air interrupted the ocean's song. Percy turned to see Jaune practicing his sword forms on the bow of the ship, the dim light of the moon barely illuminating the deck enough for Percy to see him.

Percy watched for a few moments, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face. Jaune had come a long way, but he was still a far shot from his peers. His movements were clumsy and unsure, and his strikes alternated between not strong enough and overcommitted. Though, Percy granted, he was trying — the issue clearly wasn't a lack of effort. He was out here practicing in the middle of the night, after all.

Percy took the opportunity to speak up when Jaune paused to catch his breath. "You're leaning back too much," he called across the deck, his voice barely audible above the gentle lapping of the waves.

Jaune looked up, startled. "Huh?"

Percy shook his head, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Add 'oblivious of his surroundings' to things Jaune had to work on. "You're leaning too far back when you swing. You're using your shield to compensate, but it's affecting your momentum. You need to lean forward as you swing, use your bodyweight as leverage."

Jaune blinked, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I... I didn't realize."

"People rarely do, when they build up a habit. Here," He made his way over to the boy and unsheathed Riptide. "Like this." he swung.

Jaune awkwardly mimicked the movement, but didn't quite commit to it. Percy patiently corrected him, adjusting his posture and guiding his movements. It reminded him of being back at camp half-blood, teaching new campers how to fight.

Jaune did better, but stepped forward too much, leaving himself off balance and open to a counter. Percy had him repeat the swing until he was consistently striking with the right force.

"Thanks," Jaune said, scratching his head. He stared at the ship's deck, avoiding Percy's eyes. "It's hard to know what I'm doing wrong when I just do drills."

"It's not easy to see your own flaws and know how to correct them, especially as a beginner. That's why teachers exist." Percy paused, his gaze drifting towards the sleeping quarters. "Where's Pyrrha? Hasn't she been helping you?"

Jaune's face fell minutely. "She's asleep. I didn't want to wake her."

Percy hummed. He couldn't argue with that — especially with how torn up she'd been over Yang. She needed all the rest she could get.

Jaune wouldn't benefit from Percy training him much more than he would Pyrrha — she was more than capable of refining his skill when it came to the basics — but the insight of another swordsman should help him learn faster. Either way, if she wasn't around...

Well, he'd needed to clear his head anyway.

"Alright," Percy decided. "Let's spar."

Jaune's eyes widened in surprise, and, if Percy wasn't reading into it too much, excitement. "Really?"

Percy shrugged, moving opposite of the boy and hefting Riptide. "I could use the distraction."

Jaune nodded eagerly, but hesitated to lift his own sword and shield. Percy raised an eyebrow, patience waning.

"I want you to train me like you do Pyrrha," the boy told him. "Don't go easy on me."

Both of Percy's eyebrows shot up. "Oh?"

"I heard about the way you trained her," Jaune said, shifting uncomfortably. "Brutally — like you were fighting her for real. I know it's hard work, but it helped her improve quickly. After Beacon was attacked, I realized I… I need to be stronger. I need to be strong enough to protect my friends, to not be dead weight."

He lifted his sword and shield.

Percy shook his head, an amused smile on his lips. "Alright. I can train you for real — but know what you're getting into, and that there's no going back. Once I start, I won't be holding back again. You still sure?"

The blonde boy nodded. His eyes, normally filled with uncertainty, were steeled with determination.

The corner of Percy's lip twitched upwards. Good.

"Lose the shield," Percy told him.

Jaune looked at him in befuddlement. "But... my shield is my defense." A moment later, he ducked his head. "Sorry, I shouldn't have questioned you."

Percy shook his head. "Don't feel bad for questioning instructions from anyone — it's not disrespect, it's curiosity. If you don't know why you're doing something, then you won't learn much. To answer your question, your shield is useful in a fight but you need to learn to use a sword without it first. Tonight, your sword and your feet are your only defense."

Jaune set his shield aside and raised his sword, his stance unrefined.

Percy wasted no time, launching into a series of slowed swings that Jaune barely managed to parry. Without his shield Jaune's movements were even clumsier, his defenses easily breached. Percy punished it, jabbing at the boy's throat and landing solidly.

Percy disengaged and waited patiently for him to stop coughing.

"You need to learn to use your sword to parry and deflect." Percy demonstrated a few basic parries.

Jaune tried to imitate him, but his movements were awkward and hesitant. He wasn't totally hopeless, but quite a step below what Percy was used to from Pyrrha, Yang, or even Ruby. He patiently corrected the blonde, guiding his arm and adjusting his grip.

They continued like that for the rest of the night, Percy pushing Jaune to — and past — his limits. By the time the first rays of dawn began to peek over the horizon, Jaune was exhausted, his muscles aching and his breath coming in ragged pants.

"That's enough for tonight," Percy announced, sheathing Riptide. "Get some rest."

Jaune nodded wearily, leaning heavily on his sword as he made his way back to the sleeping quarters.

Percy returned right to the railing he'd been at before, eyes slowly closing as he soaked in the feeling of the rising sun on his face.


Blake's eyes slowly opened, and the world swam back into focus. Panic clawed at her throat as she found herself unable to move. Making sure she was alone, she looked around to find herself bound to a tent pole by metal rope, the cold metal of notoriously durable Atlas military-grade cuffs biting into her wrists and ankles.

Outside, the muted glow of a campfire flickered through the tent's canvas, casting elongated shadows that danced and writhed like taunting specters. Snippets of conversation, muffled by the canvas, drifted in. Blake strained to make sense of the words, her heart pounding in her chest.

Her throat was parched, her stomach gnawing with hunger. Her muscles ached, her head throbbed, her vision swam in and out of focus, and every inch of her body screamed in protest against the hard floor and constricting cuffs. She tried to shift her position to find even a sliver of relief, but the cuffs and rope rendered her completely immobile.

Memories flooded her head, and she remembered where she was when she lost consciousness. Ilia… Adam… This was it, her worst nightmare. She was Adam's captive. And Yang! Where was Yang? She- she needed to find Yang!

A shadow fell across the tent flaps, and Blake froze, her breath held in her chest. Laughter echoed from the campfire outside and the shadow moved on, but the petrifying fear remained. Any one of those could be Adam — any one of them could spell her death.

From the far side of the tent, away from the fire light, she heard hushed voices. One familiar voice cut through the others, Ilia. Blake's blood ran cold as she strained to listen over the pounding in her head.

"Adam's dead," Ilia hissed. "He's gone."

Blake stifled a gasp.

"But the mission isn't," a gruff voice retorted. "We should deliver her to the Fennecs. They'll be able to use her."

Blake's mind raced. The Fennecs? The leaders of the extremist wing of the White Fang? A wave of nausea washed over her. They were even more ruthless than Adam — far more so. Where he saw violence as a means to an end, the Fennecs saw violence itself as the end. The Fennecs had never wanted equality — they wanted superiority.

Though, in hindsight, perhaps Adam and the Fennecs hadn't been so different after all.

"They would kill her," Ilia protested. "Adam wanted to keep her alive."

"What do you suggest we do then?" a third voice, calmer, chimed in.

Ilia was silent for a moment. "We could... hide her. Keep her safe until we figure out what to do — until the White Fang has been united under a single leader again."

The rougher of the two voices scoffed. "The Fennecs are the leaders of the White Fang. Anyone who doesn't acknowledge that is a traitor."

Blake's mind whirled as she tried to piece together the conversation. The White Fang was fractured after Adam's death, but what the situation was beyond that…

Before she could think any further, the tent flaps were thrown open, and a harsh light momentarily flooded the space. She quickly tried to fake sleep, but she had been caught off guard.

Sloppy.

"Look who's awake," a gravelly voice mocked. A heavy boot connected with Blake's ribs, sending a jolt of pain through her body.

She cried out in pain, her vision going black for several moments.

When Blake came to, she caught a brief glimpse of two men stood over her, both clad in the insignia of White Fang lieutenants. The man from before was nowhere to be seen, and Blake's abdomen was lit up with pain.

"Enough!" Ilia snapped. "Don't harm her."

"Do not tell me what to do, little chameleon," the larger one sneered at Ilia. "This rat was listening in on us."

Blake felt a sharp pain as another second strike hit her, the larger one's fist hitting her right on her nose. Her head snapped back, hitting the pole of the tent with a sharp crack.

Ilia's eyes flashed with anger, but she visibly bit her tongue. "The captive must remain alive to be useful."

"Bruce," the calmer voice interrupted. "We should set out now, to reach Menagerie as soon as possible."

The larger one grunted, and the lieutenants left the tent. Outside, Blake could hear them barking orders to their subordinates.

Ilia knelt beside Blake, unclasping a waterskin from her belt and pressing it to Blake's lips.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice filled with regret. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

Blake didn't respond, her body throbbing and her mind numb with pain.

Ilia slowly tilted the waterskin upwards, coaxing the warm water to trickle down Blake's throat.

The tent flap opened once more. "Ilia, pack up your tent," an unfamiliar voice called. "We need to get moving."

Ilia didn't respond, her gaze lingering on Blake for a moment before she turned and left the tent. Blake was alone again, her heart pounding with fear. She didn't know exactly what they had planned for her, but she knew it wouldn't be good.

She had to escape.


When Percy dragged himself out of bed the next night, he was surprised to hear the noise of metal ringing out against metal.

Surfacing from below deck, he paused to take in the scene. Instead of Jaune practicing by himself like Percy expected, the other kids — the blonde's team and half of RWBY — were with him. Pyrrha was engaging the other five in a spar, and holding her own. She did plenty of leaping, dodging, and ducking, but every so often she would find an opening and exploit it, chipping away at her friends.

Silently, Percy leaned against a nearby turret and watched.

It was much closer than Percy could say he expected it to be, but Pyrrha lost in the end, not managing to keep up with all five of them at once.

It was a good spar, but that was all it was — a spar. Practice.

Practice was great, but what they needed was experience.

"Good fight," he announced himself, joining the group. "I see you brought friends."

Five of the six jumped. Ren dipped his head respectfully.

"They want to train too!" the team's leader rushed to explain, leaping to his feet. "They feel the same way I do — we need to be as strong as possible next time something like Beacon happens. Whatever it takes."

Percy raised a hand to halt the boy's hasty explanation. "It's not a problem. In fact, if you're really committed to this then you can help each other as much as I can — maybe more."

He had all of their attention, but Pyrrha leaned forward eagerly, especially curious.

"We are committed," the blonde assured him. "All of us. Just tell us how, and we'll do it."

Percy looked over the group slowly, eyes briefly meeting Ren's.

"Alright," he agreed, ignoring the group's celebratory smiles. "Fight each other."

Six blank stares looked back at him.

"Thats it?" Weiss demanded, hands placed firmly on her hips. "Fight each other? We've been doing that since we first got to Beacon."

"No," Percy corrected patiently, "you've been sparring."

"What's the difference?" Ruby asked the question all six of them were thinking with various levels of impatience.

"The goal," he said plainly. "When you spar, your goal is to win." he reached into his pocket, grabbing Riptide and twirling it absently between his fingers as he met each of their eyes. "Like a game. You count up scores, and forget them the moment you're done. Maybe you catch a mistake, maybe you don't. Maybe you repeat it, maybe you don't. The difference is a tally on an imaginary scoreboard, if that. When you fight…" he paused, making sure to meet each of their eyes individually. "Your goal is to survive."

Anaklusmos was swinging before they could blink, a blur through the air. Ren barely managed to avoid his opening swing, only suffering a small cut on his upper arm. The group scattered, reactions varying from readying their weapons to staring in confusion.

He sprinted to one of the latter group and swung, halting Anaklusmos a centimeter from Weiss' neck. "You're dead. Next time, the blade won't stop."

Percy left the frozen girl behind to engage Nora, but by now the others had gotten their act together and her hammer's pommel met Anaklusmos. He didn't hold back his strength like normal, but did rotate his blade to avoid slicing her hammer clean in half. The force alone still sent her stumbling, but he was forced to raise his sword to block a javelin from Pyrrha.

"There are no buzzers in a fight," Percy lectured while he fought. "No out of bounds, no stopping if somebody gets hurt, no rules." he grunted, taking a kick from Ren on his forearm while he blocked Ruby's scythe with Anaklusmos. "If there's something you can do to win, you do it."

To punctuate his point, he spat in Ruby's eye. She flinched harshly and backpedaled wildly, which Percy quickly took advantage of.

"Dead," he announced, holding the tip of his blade against her throat. If he'd known the state of her aura, he'd have followed through.

"If someone wants to kill you, they'll do anything they can to accomplish that goal. Don't make it as easy as spitting at you."

CR-TH-S-C-U-U-CR-RE-NCH-NK-EECH!

A cacophony of indiscernible, incredibly loud noise erupted from every direction. His only clue as to what had happened was the metal fence running along the edge of the ship rapidly moving towards him.

He leaped above the first wave of fence, slicing a hole through the metal wiring of the second just as a third hit him from behind. He ripped himself free of it once he hit the ground, only to be instantly encased, the guard rail from all around the ship crushing him beneath its weight and slowly encasing him one layer at a time until it was too much for even him to break through with strength alone.

Being slowly encased alive gave him time to think — and to understand what had happened. Pyrrha had used her semblance to rip the guard rails off of the entire — or at least much of — the ship, and encase him with them, damaging the ship and endangering the sailor's lives in the process. She had caused all that damage that would need to be repaired, just to win.

Percy's smile threatened to split his face.

The metal was crushing him, levying an uncomfortable amount of pressure and threatening to break him altogether with enough metal. He had to get out of this, and quickly, but how? Sea, or sky?

Choices, choices.

Finally making up his mind, Percy chose both.

A bolt of lightning tore through the sky, hitting the pile of metal and scrambling its magnetic alignment, momentarily breaking Pyrrha's hold on its polarity. The short-term problem dealt with, there was still too much metal for him to break through himself, whether it was crushing him or not.

With his mortal body, at least.

Water rushed over the sides of the deck, encasing him and each of his remaining opponents, but leaving Ruby and Weiss to stare in disbelief at the growing whirlpool quickly forming on the ship's deck.

He would need a lot of force to free himself, so he used a lot of water. Within seconds they were hundreds of feet in the air, a tornado of water encircling them and tearing at his metal prison one layer at a time. He made sure to let each of them breathe every now and then — he wasn't actually trying to kill them, after all, and he felt he had made his point.

Once free, he returned the water back to the ocean and set them all down gently.

"Well done, Pyr," Percy grinned, tousling the girl's sopping wet hair. "That's the first time someone's made me use powers in a practice fight since I was your age."

She responded by bending over and hacking her lungs out, wheezing for air alongside her teammates. Percy shot Weiss and Ruby a wink from where they looked on in amazed horror.

Percy dried the four with a thought, the water pouring out of their lungs in unison.

"Great. Now split into pairs — someone that isn't your partner — and fight each other. But, while I do respect the effort, please don't damage the ship anymore if you can help it," he told the weary group while JNPR caught their breath.

They sluggishly split into pairs, walking off to find their own spaces to fight on the moonlit deck.

"Nope," Percy grabbed Jaune by his hoodie. "You're mine." He turned to Ruby. "Go fight Pyrrha — Weiss could use the help."

Percy pretended not to see Ruby and Jaune's eyes meet before she nodded her agreement and ran off to fight Pyrrha.

Jaune waited curiously, but Percy let her get out of earshot before he began explaining. "They're learning that way because nobody else here can teach them how they messed up better than themselves," he explained.

The boy nodded, but sagged imperceptibly. "But I'm different, right?"

Percy nodded. "But not just for the reason you think. Sure, you have more work to do than all of them, but you also have an advantage that none of them do."

That peaked his interest. "What is it?"

Percy grinned. "None of the others have someone who knows how to use their weapon better than they do." he span Riptide.

After a deep breath, the blonde readied his own sword. Percy studied his stance, the position of his feet, his grip, and his eyes.

A flicker of a smile ghosted across Percy's face.

Better.

Not perfect, but better.

Percy would make something of him yet.


Yang's eyes fluttered open, and she groaned. Her head throbbed, and her body ached. She tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness forced her back down.

"Easy there," a gentle voice cautioned. Yang blinked, her vision blurry as she tried to focus on the figure kneeling beside her. It was a woman, her face hidden beneath a dark cloak, with what little of it that could have been seen concealed behind a black cloth. She held a waterskin, offering it to Yang.

Yang accepted it gratefully, taking several large gulps of the cool water. The liquid soothed her parched throat and helped to clear her head.

"Where... where am I?" she croaked, looking around. She was in a dimly lit cave, the walls adorned with strange symbols and markings.

"You're safe," the woman assured her, her voice soft and familiar like a childhood blanket. "My name is Samara. You were brought here by Raven."

"Raven?" Yang's brow furrowed. She was fairly sure she didn't know a Raven, so why did the name sound so familiar?

Samara hesitated for a moment. "She's... an old friend of mine, and apparently someone who cares about you."

Yang struggled to sit up again, this time managing to do so with only a slight wobble. "Cares about me? Why would she bring me here?"

Samara offered her a bowl of steaming stew, the aroma of spices and herbs filling the air. "I don't know," she admitted. "Raven has ever been an enigmatic one, even when I knew her many years ago."

"Is Blake here?" Yang asked with a start, looking around once again. "My partner, I mean. Black hair, yellow eyes?"

"She is not," Samara told her. "You're the only one who arrived."

Yang's confusion deepened. "Why was I brought here and not Blake?"

Samara shook her head. "I can't say I know for sure, but I suspect Raven had her reasons. Perhaps you should tell me what happened."

Yang accepted the bowl, the warmth of the stew comforting in the cool cave. As she ate, she recounted the events at Beacon. The attack, the chaos, the fight with Ilia, thinking she would die and then... waking up here.

"I have to get back there," Yang declared, setting the empty bowl aside. "I have to find Blake."

Samara gently placed a hand on Yang's arm, stopping her. "You should rest. You're not in any condition to fight."

"But Blake-" Yang began to protest.

"You need to rest. We can leave tomorrow morning."

Yang's eyes widened. "Morning? No, I have to leave now!"

Samara's hood shifted towards the cave entrance. Though it wasn't visible, the distant sound of wind whistling was audible. "We can't," she said simply. "There's a sandstorm."

Yang stared at the woman in disbelief. "A sandstorm? Where are we?"

"Vacuo," Samara answered. "We're in Vacuo."


Percy stepped off the ship onto the docks of Mistral with Pyrrha and Saturn in tow to find a small group of senior officers and Shiro waiting for him.

"Welcome back," Shiro greeted, "I'll fill you in on the way."

Percy nodded, falling into step beside Shiro as they made their way towards the military base nestled into the mountain, squads of soldiers clearing the path for them ahead. Pyrrha and the officers followed silently.

"The White Fang is our most pressing issue," Shiro began, his voice barely audible above the din of the bustling dockyard. "They've fractured into several cells following the death of Adam Taurus, each with their own agenda. Intel on each of them individually is... spotty, at best."

Percy's brow furrowed. "How fractured?"

"Each kingdom has at least one cell," Shiro explained. "The one in Mistral has pledged loyalty to you, but the others..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "They range in ideology, but most of their leaders are just power-hungry opportunists."

"And Menagerie?" Percy asked, his voice sharp.

"The largest cell is there," Shiro confirmed. "They're maintaining a facade of cooperation, but it's a thinly veiled occupation. Their strength has dwindled following the unpopular attack of Vale, but Menagerie has no military and they could overrun the island at any moment."

Percy's jaw tightened. "How are the Belladonnas?"

"They're safe, for now," Shiro assured him, "but they're essentially hostages. The White Fang is keeping up appearances, but they could storm their manor whenever they want."

Percy's grip on the table tightened, followed by the dull creak of bending metal. "What about Blake and Yang?"

"We received intel that Blake Belladonna is being transported to Menagerie," Shiro told him. "By ship. We have the charter number and are actively tracking the ship's location. If they stay on schedule, they should be passing Mistral's southwest coast in roughly two days. We have yet to hear anything about Yang Xiao-Long, though she is much less conspicuous. We do know Belladonna is their only prisoner, however, so if she was also taken hostage then they're not being kept together."

Percy didn't react to the news, but internally he was pleased that even one of them had been found. Even though White Fang captivity was not the best possible outcome, at least she was alive. He really needed to visit the Malachites in person to thank them sometime. Assuming the intel was correct, they were proving themselves invaluable — again.

They reached the main entrance to the military base, a massive steel door set into the mountainside. As they passed through the security checkpoint, Percy's mind raced, considering his options.

They made their way to the command room in silence, a vast chamber filled with digital maps, screens, and bustling officers. A hush fell over the room as Percy strode to the head of the large oval table, Shiro and the other officers taking their positions around him.

"First, the Mistral cell," Percy began, his voice echoing through the room, "Dissolve it. Recruit anyone willing into the military, split them up, and scatter them to the winds. I want no trace of the White Fang left when we're done."

He turned to the Rear Admiral. "Saturn, prepare our ships — all of them. We leave tomorrow."

"Aye, sir." Saturn nodded curtly, his face grim. He spun on his heel and promptly exited.

Percy turned back to Shiro. "I need the best unit we have. A small strike force to extract Blake, and I need them in position before her ship passes the coast."

Shiro nodded and shot a quick glance to an officer on the other side of the table, who quickly left.

Percy turned to Pyrrha. "Your team, Ruby, and Weiss will be joining the strike force. You'll be rescuing Blake with me — it's time to get some real experience."

Pyrrha's eyes widened, but she nodded firmly. "I'll tell them."

Percy turned back to Shiro as Pyrrha hurried out of the room. "Ready a division for the liberation and occupation of Menagerie. We don't have marines, do we?"

Shiro stared at him blankly. "Marines?"

Percy waved it off. "Ignore me. Another thing for my to do list. Prepare our best equipped infantry division — they'll be setting off tomorrow."

Shiro nodded, his eyes scanning the map. "That won't be a problem."

"Good," Percy let out a long breath, some of the tension leaving his frame. "How's Vacuo?"

"Vacuo is stable," Shiro reported, "but the White Fang there have gone underground. They're causing some trouble, but not much more than bandits. The Asturias' haven't been able to find them in the desert. We think they're using old bases from the civil war that were kept internal to the White Fang — we have a list of locations we can give the Asturias', if you'd like."

"Give them the intel," Percy agreed. "Let them handle it. How about Mantle?"

Shiro's face darkened. "As far as White Fang presence goes, they've been completely eliminated, but the Grimm ran amok there while the city fought itself following the incident in Vale. We don't have an accurate casualty estimate, but it's a lot — in the millions, without a doubt. I'd recommend you get more details from Winter directly, all my information is second-hand."

Percy leaned against the table, feeling like the air had just been pulled from his lungs. "I… I didn't realize it was that bad."

"Atlas is helping," Shiro offered halfheartedly. "At the very least, more casualties should be limited."

"It just doesn't make sense, there had to be more Grimm than when Mantle rebelled, but that was a war, and it should have thinned the Grimm population in the area. How were there more Grimm?"

Shiro shrugged, "Grimm have always been one of the last great mysteries. We don't know how they work. I agree this is pretty counter-intuitive, but who knows. I'm sure it makes sense to the Grimm."

Percy frowned. He wasn't so convinced this was entirely accidental. If Salem had something to do with it, as he suspected… she had made an enemy. The question was, how did he confirm his suspicions one way or the other?

"And Vale?"

"Not good," Shiro admitted. "We've lost most of our political and media support. Even Junior says he'll have to tread lightly, anti-Mistrali sentiment is high. The acting headmistress of Beacon managed to negotiate a ceasefire between the police and Junior due to their help during the defense of Vale, but otherwise they'd be cracking down hard."

Percy's eyes narrowed. Goodwitch? Interesting. He supposed he owed her one.

"And Ozpin?"

Shiro hesitated. "You hadn't heard? He's... gone."

Percy grimaced. He'd almost forgotten Shiro didn't know about Ozma or Salem — he didn't know they were looking for Ozma's newest reincarnation. Neither did anyone else in the room, for that matter. He was being careless.

"Have the Spiders keep an eye out for Qrow Branwen," Percy ordered instead. "I want to know where he is and what he's doing until I say otherwise."

Shiro nodded. "I'll pass it along."

"Anything else?"

"Not unless you have something for me," Shiro shook his head. "There's domestic updates, but none of them are especially time sensitive. To make a long story short, things are going well."

"You'll have to catch me up on it another time," Percy agreed. "Right now, I need to go get our extraction team ready."

Percy was jumpy as he followed an officer to where the squad would be, eager to rescue Blake. All he could think about was his little cousin Nico, who he hadn't seen since… well, since he fell.

Nico had been taken captive by the giants and nearly starved to death to the point he'd looked more dead than alive by the time they managed to free him. And Blake… he had never made the comparison before, but she reminded him of Nico. Like a frightened cat, at times — standoffish, hiding behind a veneer of indifference to mask their vulnerability. Not that he had known Blake that well, but now that he was making the comparison it seemed as clear as day.

He wouldn't let her end up like Nico. For Ruby and the other's sake, of course — it's not like he cared about her himself, after all. He was just taking back a bargaining chip for Menagerie, he told himself. Plus, the intel could be wrong, Yang could be with her.

So then why did the scene of Blake strung up, bleeding, black, and blue, keep flashing through his mind every time he closed his eyes?

Hang on, Blake. We're coming for you.


Hope you all enjoyed! Curse you ffnet for removing my formatting and making me manually readd it. Given the inconsistency of updates from ffnet, please do follow me on ao3 or my discord. While I'm not leaving any time soon, who knows what will break on this thing next.

And a very sincere thank you to my pat rons for your support in motivating me to stave off my skyblock addiction so I can write. Because of you, we're officially back on the 2 chapters a month schedule. Speaking of which now that we are back on a regular schedule, pat rons are back to getting chapters one full update ahead. All 3 links are on my profile.

Lastly, thanks for your reviews! Always happy to read them, even (and sometimes especially) constructive criticism or just general thoughts.

Hope you all have a great weekend!

Next Chapter September 15