I have my stupid awards ceremony and speech coming up again soon (3rd October) and need to take a week off around it to prepare. I really thought the business would be closed before getting to it, but it appears not ffs.

As such, there will be no updates from Monday 30th to Sunday 6th October. Both to let me get some prep down before, and to have a chance to unwind after it's over. Thankfully this is the last time I'll ever have to do it.

This means no updates next week.

Cover Art: Kirire

Chapter 117

No one listened to Jaune at first.

Blake didn't blame them for it. ARC Corp had spent several lifetimes making sure the immediate response was disbelief, and Jaune's blunt talk of them being trapped between dimensions was dismissed as the ravings of a madman.

Curiously, Jaune didn't argue the accusations. He just smiled and told them that they knew where to find him if they wanted him. Then, he returned and sat next to her while the people in the carriage organised themselves to push through the many doorways ahead and demand answers from the train's driver.

"Why didn't you show them your arms?" she asked. "That might have convinced them."

"It would have been written off as a Semblance. There's no rush to win them over. Besides, time will prove my point."

And, on that front, Jaune was very much correct. An hour passed, and then another, and then a third and a fourth. The clocks were all working, including the ones on their scrolls, but there was no signal and no connection. Eventually, their batteries would drain and there would be no scrolls at all.

More time passed. Blake got up from her seat to stretch and walk around, if only to stop her muscles cramping into oblivion. Jaune joined her, the two of them walking up and down the cramped, almost claustrophobic interior of the train's carriage. Outside the windows, the tunnel wall continued to blur by, seemingly infinite.

It was a whole day before the passengers on their carriage returned. More than twenty-four hours, during which Blake napped every couple of hours from boredom. Why she hadn't thought to bring a suitcase full of reading material on this doomed ride, she didn't know.

When the passengers came back, their faces were haunted.

"Find anything?" asked Jaune, ever polite.

"The… The carriages go on forever," whispered a large and stocky young man. He wore a Beacon uniform and had short orange hair. Blake was fairly sure she'd seen him at some point in their mission at Beacon. "We must have walked for miles without ever finding the end of the train. Hundreds – no, thousands – of empty train carriages."

"They were all empty?" Jaune asked.

"No. There were a few other people from the other carriages. Some went with us, but they stopped at their seats again to tell everyone what we saw."

It was a woman who answered. She was putting on a brave face for her two daughters clutching tearfully to her legs, but the way her ears quivered gave her away. Blake placed her as a mouse or rat faunus, her small ears drooping out the sides of her hair.

Alongside them was an irate-looking businessman and a teenage girl with blue hair, a leather jacket and numerous tattoos up and down her arms and neck. She was smoking a cigarette, nervously flicking the stick from one side of her mouth to the other. Given they'd boarded the train late at night, there weren't so many people. That was probably for the best, if only to avoid panic.

"Right. So." Jaune clapped his hands together. "I take it you're prepared to listen to me now. Let's all take some seats."

This time, with defeat and fear in their eyes, they did so. Blake tuned out the explanation in favour of watching reactions; there was nothing he was saying that she didn't already know. The Beacon student looked the calmest of everyone there, but then he could defend himself. The mother looked the worst, while her children – each about ten years old – hadn't quite grasped what was happening just yet. They were spooked but clinging to her for answers and protection. The huntsman made sure to sit a healthy distance from them and eyed them suspiciously.

The businessman refused to sit and had taken to leaning with an arm on the back of Jaune's train seat to listen in. It didn't look like he was listening all that hard, no doubt lost in thought. The teenage girl took the seat next to the huntsman but didn't look happy about it. She puffed on her cigarette and listened to Jaune while leaning her cheek on the glass window.

"—you may have already noticed some things about the situation," Jaune continued. "First of all, has anyone grown hungry at all? Anyone?"

Everyone agreed they had not. Blake hadn't noticed it herself, but it was obvious now it was pointed out. They'd been here over twenty-four hours and had missed several meals. It made some twisted amount of sense that they wouldn't need food. If they were to be trapped here for however long they were, they'd starve otherwise.

"I expect we won't need to go through a lot of bodily functions, and I also don't think we're going to age. Time is essentially frozen for us, and it's entirely possible we're experiencing this without a second having passed in the normal world."

"That's good," quipped the businessman, "I have an important meeting tomorrow morning. Can't afford to miss it."

"I'm sure we all have places to be," Jaune agreed. It was important not to snap at anyone right now. Not when they needed calm. "Now, my assistant and I are experts in phenomena like this. The whole reason we're on this train is because we knew this would happen."

"And you didn't stop us boarding?" snapped the huntsman. "What the fuck is that?"

"Blame the city," Blake said, before they could all get angry. "The government knew about this and asked us to investigate. We wanted the place shut down while we did, but they refused. Said the people came out fine in the end."

"Fucking government," the teenage girl mumbled.

"Useless idiots in power as always," the businessman agreed. "They couldn't legislate their way out a paper bag. But you said everyone came off fine, right? That means we'll be okay. Right?"

They didn't know.

"Yes," Jaune lied, smiling softly. The mother relaxed, the children taking her cue and doing the same. "From all accounts, everyone who boards the train does come off the other end just fine. They don't remember anything, though. All these memories are likely to be forgotten. Which may be a good thing, all this considered."

The lot of them calmed down a lot at that, sagging and slumping in relief. The businessman even took a seat across the aisle, finally setting down the briefcase he'd been clutching at for comfort. "How long does it take?" asked the mother. "How many days? Or is it weeks?"

"We don't know. All we know is that we have to be patient and stay calm. This will end sooner or later, and we're not going to starve to death here." Jaune gave them a moment to collect their thoughts. "I'm going to go ahead a few carriages and give the same speech to as many people as will listen Blake will look after things here."

He left her in charge, and Blake forced herself to do just that. In his absence, she felt even more alone, especially so once she realised – with some shock – that her Slaved Anomaly, the book, was unable to speak to her. It was inert on her hip, and when she opened it up, she found only blank pages.

This was a place not even it could reach.

/-/

It took three days for Jaune to return.

In that time, she'd gotten to know the people of the carriage they claimed as their own. The huntsman was Cardin Winchester, a student of Beacon and a racist halfway out the closet. He put up with her, but grudgingly, and with bitten-back snarls whenever she asked him to do something. He did what she asked, though. The man was smart enough to know this was a situation where he had to put aside his feelings.

The mother was Meryl, her children, both girls, named Lily and River. They lived alone after their father and her husband had divorced her. Apparently, they'd boarded the train to take them to what would be their new home. The children still missed their father. Meryl spent most of her time keeping her own children entertained and preventing them from becoming burdens on the rest of them. It unfortunately made her more than a little useless when it came to helping. Blake tried her best not to hold it against them.

The businessman was Patrick, a mid-forties professional who was very proud of how far he'd gotten in life, all of which seemed to surround his work as a director in an advertising company he'd worked his way up from the bottom of. He didn't take well to Blake and Jaune's leadership, and most of it seemed to stem from the fact they were younger than he was. When he boasted of salary, and found out about hers, he became silent and bitter.

The last, the teenage girl, called herself Cross. It was an obviously fake name, but she refused to give any other and all Blake could get out of her was that she had run away from her family and didn't want to go back. The girl smoked heavily, and Blake worried what would happen when she ran out of cigarettes. Every movement from her was erratic and fidgety, and she didn't talk to anyone unless they talked to her first. Even then, she kept things short and clipped.

When Jaune finally did come back, he was missing his jacket and coat, leaving him in his white shirt and black gloves. His ruined arms could just about be seen through them, blackened for the most part but glowing a faint orange through the cracks. He garnered more than his fair share of strange looks.

"What happened?" asked Blake, coming over and speaking in a whisper. "What took you so long?"

"Not everyone was content to sit still and wait. Some had roamed ahead in search of the driver and refused to give up. I had to chase them down. Even then, I don't think I found all of them."

"And your jacket?"

"I tore it into strips and used them to write a clumsy message in case those people did come back. I would have painted on the walls if I had anything to work with." He smiled lopsidedly. "And I don't want to see what would happen if I cut myself to get some blood. If our bodies don't change to feel hunger, will they change to heal an open wound? Or would I bleed out endlessly?"

"Let's not find out."

"Agreed. How have things been?"

"Tense," she whispered. "Cross is running out of cigarettes and Patrick is running out of patience. Meryl is stuck trying to distract her kids permanently, and the only one of any use is Winchester – but he's a massive racist."

"Will that be an issue?"

"It would be normally, but I can't bring myself to care right now. He listens and helps. I'll put up with it."

"Good. What have you managed to do?"

It wasn't much. Given there was no discernible way out, they'd done what they could instead to make their train carriage a little more comfortable. Blake and Cardin had used knives to cut open the many seats and essentially skin them, peeling off the felt to form cloth and taking out the padding to make rudimentary pillows. They'd even sliced off the seats of the ones to the back and arranged them on the floor to form a rough mattress for each person. It wasn't great, but it was better than sleeping on a metal floor.

And while they didn't need to sleep, they still did. It was more akin to napping out of boredom or, importantly, to try and force their time to pass. Their bodies didn't grow any more tired or sleepy no matter how long they stayed awake. The little bit of normality was more of a comfort than anything.

The final thing they'd done was take spare clothes from Meryl's suitcases and use them to make curtains to hang over the windows. The interior was perpetually lit by gloomy lights, but seeing outside the windows and washing the tunnel walls whoosh on by had started to give people a headache. It was a shame they couldn't do anything to block out the infernal noise of it all.

"You've done well to do this much," Jaune said. "We might look to explore a little as well. As far as I can tell, everything that was on the train still is here, it's just that there's an infinite number of repeated carriages between us and the theoretical front of the train. I'm not even sure that and the driver exists in this dimension. Anyway, we might be able to find a food cart."

"But we don't need to eat."

"It'd mostly be for morale. Keep them… well… sane."

Blake looked back at their people. It had been about four days since this all began, and they were already looking on edge. They had been vague with them on how long this might take, mostly because they didn't know. The Fist Office had been in the Tunnel of Love for five years.

If they were jittery now, Blake dreaded to imagine what they'd be like in a year.

Someone was bound to crack.

/-/

It wasn't someone in their carriage.

It had been another two weeks or so that they'd been inside, and everyone's scrolls had finally run out of battery. There was nothing to do but talk and make idle games, though Cardin had cut strips from cloth and set the "brats" as he called them to writing out playing card numbers and pictures on them to fashion a set of playing cards. Blake suspected he'd done it to keep the kids' minds off the crushing monotony and fear.

The scream was sudden and piercing, making everyone freeze. Cardin, Jaune and Blake were the first on their feet, but Jaune pushed Cardin back. "Guard them!" he ordered. "Push back anything that comes through. Blake, with me!"

The two of them rushed into the carriage ahead. It wasn't empty, and they'd gotten to know a few of the people in it. Only a few. Many had decided to push on ahead in search of the driver and had declared they would do so forever if needs be. They'd accused everyone else of being idiots content to wait this out when they should be doing something about it. Blake and Jaune hadn't been able to convince them otherwise and, not wanting to start a fight, had let them go.

When they came into the carriage, they found a girl crying in the arms of another and two men standing in front of them looking the other way. "What happened?" Jaune asked, hurrying over. "What came through?"

"Nothing," spat one of the guys. Blake thought his name was Bill, or maybe William. "This was Rod's work, the fucking bastard!"

Blake glanced around and Rod, the construction worker who had been on the train to visit a girl he met online, was nowhere to be seen. Seeing the crying girl clutching one arm, Blake knelt and asked to see it. There was a cut in her bicep oozing blood. It wasn't all that deep but the area around it was badly bruised, as was the left side of her face. It looked like someone had hit her.

"Rod had been trying to chat up Stacey here for a while now," said one of the men. "But she wasn't interested. Told him that enough times, and we thought he'd gotten over it. He calmed down and stopped asking; started acting normal again. Then today, he suggested the two of them look ahead through some carriages to try and find some luggage he'd lost. We didn't think anything of it. Not the first time we've gone ahead to try and find some stuff."

"I assume that wasn't his plan."

"Course not. Bastard tried to force himself on Stacey. Grimm's luck she managed to wriggle free and run back screaming for help."

A rapist. He probably hadn't always been, but two and a half weeks on this train with only a small group of people around you had evidently pushed him to the breaking point. Blake suspected it wouldn't be the first instance of that. There'd been numerous loud arguments among their own carriage, but they'd thankfully not descended to violence yet.

Though that was more because Cardin was the one arguing with Patrick, and the grown man knew he wouldn't stand a chance against Cardin if he did get physical. Meryl was the same, simply taking Cardin's whispered insults and never responding since she knew it was pointless. Cross and Patrick had sniped as well, and the man had threatened to take her limited cigarettes away if she didn't shut up. In return, she'd threatened to bash his head out against a window.

Things were tense and it hadn't even been a month.

"You're welcome to come to our carriage if you need to," Jaune offered. "And make sure to shout if Rod comes back. I'd suggest not going off alone for the next few days in case something happens. He might be lurking around looking for another chance."

Rod never did come back.

/-/

Two months later, Patrick decided he was done waiting.

"Enough is enough!" he roared, yanking off his suit jacket and tossing it on his seat. "I'm sick of being stuck here with you all. I'm getting off this train!"

"And how the hell do you expect to manage that?" asked Cardin. He was keeping himself and his mind occupied by doing push-ups, and keeping the kids occupied by letting them sit on his back as he did. He was still a racist prick, but he kept his muttered insults and comments to the adult faunus in the train. "Enough have tried to reach the driver. This train goes on forever."

"The train might but the tunnel won't! We've been here a few months. If I have to walk back for a few months, I'll do it, but I'll reach where we started eventually. Don't worry, I'll send help."

"You're going to jump off the train?" Meryl cried. "Are you mad?"

"Let him," said Cross. The girl had become increasingly waspish of late, ever since her cigarettes ran out. "Let the fat fuck smear himself on the tracks. Not like we'll miss him."

"What would I care to be missed by some worthless drug addict like you anyway?" Patrick pushed past Jaune, who made a token effort to stop him. "Out my way. I'm done with your advice. You so-called specialists would have us sit here for an eternity. Don't you see this will never end?"

"It'll end," Jaune promised. "No one has gone missing yet. You might die if you jump off a moving train."

"Better death than this eternal limbo. Besides, if I die then I'll wake up coming off with my memories wiped. At least I won't have to put up with you helpless morons."

He moved to the space between their carriage and the next and pressed his hand on the button for the door. Everyone had crowded behind to watch him. When the door opened, wind whipped at the straggly hair on his bald head.

"That's the difference between us!" he shouted against the wind. "I'm a man who isn't afraid to do what needs to be done. You kids nowadays always want to sit back and wait for good things to happen to you. It's no wonder society is going down the toilet with you taking over. I'm not going to—"

The tunnel moved. It reached in with a black tentacle and wrapped around Patrick's stomach. The man had a second to gasp before he was whipped out the train with a strangled cry.

There was a sickening crunch and a spray of blood splashing inside.

Jaune raced forward and slapped the button, closing the door with a hiss. When he turned back, everyone was pale.

"No one speaks of this!" he hissed. "Do you hear me? No one speaks of it! If the other carriages find out, there'll be panic!"

No one disagreed.

/-/

A year later, Stacey and the other woman from the carriage ahead, Lauren, asked to move into theirs. No one refused them. It turned out that William and Harry had decided to go ahead alone in search of the driver. They accepted it was a pointless pilgrimage but said they had little better to do with their time and lives here and would rather have a goal to work towards than sit still and be driven insane.

Blake didn't fault them that.

The two fit in well enough, bringing with them things scavenged from their own train carriage and not causing any fuss. By that point, the kids were happy to have more people to talk to, and Meryl to have some other women she could ask to help with them. Cross was hardly one to care, the jumpy girl still having not gotten over her addiction despite being without cigarettes for over a year.

Blake suspected the same time-warping shenanigans that kept them alive and not needing food were also keeping her from working the withdrawal out her system. It simply wasn't going away, and her body would crave nicotine forever.

Three months later, they faced their first bout of violence.

It had almost slipped her mind that someone had tried to force themselves on Stacey so long ago. In hindsight, it was irresponsible of them, but it had been over a year since they saw another person's face, so the memory of Rod faded. But he had remained, and he snuck into their carriage one night, keeping his head low and moving like he belonged.

No one kept watch, no one had ever needed to, and people napped when they felt like it. Jaune and Blake had been asleep, and Meryl had been awake taking care of her children. Rod had walked in and approached the sleeping forms of the girls at the back, settling himself down onto Stacey and holding a hand over her mouth.

It was Lauren's scream that startled them all awake. Blake lunged up, scrambling off her resting spot as Lauren screamed a second time, falling away with blood spilling from her neck. Rod had one hand on Stacey's face and the other grasping a knife, and the woman was weeping against his fingers.

"Mine!" he shouted. "She is mine! She belongs to me—"

A metal pole pried from one of the dismantled seats struck the side of his head. Cardin was a huntsman-in-training, and his muscles weren't for show. The blow was so powerful that it cracked Rod's head open and spilled blood and brain matter across the floor. The man was dead before he knew it.

Blake and Jaune rushed to Lauren, the friend who was wheezing blood all over the floor. They tried to pull her over onto her back so they could see the wound but by then it was already too late. The woman was so pale and so afraid, and the shock worked quickly. Her lips trembled as her final breath slipped out of her, and then she lay still.

That brought forth a new problem for the bodies didn't decompose or rot, which spared them the risk of disease but not the sight and smell. Everyone silently agreed they wouldn't be thrown off the train to whatever awaited them out there, so Jaune, Cardin and Blake worked to carry them into a carriage several back, out the way in what they'd come to call "the infinite" and left them there, covered with some fabric sheets.

The sudden violent death cast a pall over the carriage, reminding them that any one of them could be driven to madness. Two weeks later, Cross disappeared, saying she was going out to look for cigarettes and never returning. Blake didn't know if she had ended her own life or if she was just travelling forever, determined to find what she needed or die trying.

A year later, or so it felt, Cardin proposed to Meryl. There was at least a twenty-year age gap between them and yet time felt so meaningless. He'd been more a father for Lily and River than any for the last few years. The faunus woman accepted with tears in her eyes, and the two had taken to sleeping together with their children between them.

It was… Blake wasn't sure. Time grew harder to measure. It was at least a few months after Meryl and Cardin that she cornered Jaune on a scouting trip for any of the other passengers and pushed him into one of the train's toilet stalls. Their coupling was hectic, Jaune trying to argue she didn't want this, but Blake needing it – needing something.

It was like the missing men had said, if you didn't have something to distract you in this nightmare, you'd be driven mad. It might have been a "last man on Remnant" scenario but she couldn't think of anyone else it might be. Since then, they slept together, and yet it always frustrated her that Jaune couldn't hold her with his bare arms and hands. There was always the cold distance of his shirt and gloves between them.

Some time after that, another year at least, they found their first glimpse of "civilisation" forming on the train. It had been at least five years now, maybe more, and people had started to accept this was their life. This eternal torment. Civilisation came in the form of a short man with painted skin and strange piercings. He cartwheeled and boasted of the "Carnal Casino", a gathering of likeminded men and women several hundred carriages down that had taken over a number of their own and formed some bizarre, hedonistic government.

He handed them fliers stitched on fabric from the train seats that spoke of gambling and fun, and told them the casino would accept anything as collateral. Food, items, promises, people. He looked to Lily and River, forcing Cardin to draw them behind him, and commented that the casino would accept them wagering their children if they wished.

The man was invited to leave immediately after that.

After that, someone always kept guard. Cardin fashioned himself a mace by bending metal around a pipe and started teaching his children how to wield small knives. Blake and Jaune took their fair share as well, though no one from the casino bothered them again for several months.

Blake spooned against Jaune with her arms wrapped around his stomach. He could never do the same to her without hurting her. They were mostly naked. Aside from his shirt.

"It's familiar, isn't it?" he said. Despite it being so long, neither of them had changed in appearance. Jaune felt older, however. Maybe it was their personalities subtly changing.

"What is?" she asked.

"The way things are going on the train. People forming their own groups, and now a hedonistic casino. Doesn't it remind you of something?" It didn't, and she said as much. Jaune continued. "It's like what happened in the Twilight City."

"Oh…"

That was a comparison she wasn't happy he'd shared. Now that the connection was made, she couldn't ignore it. The people there had been driven mad by immortality as well, although theirs had come with repeated death and reincarnation to speed the process up.

They'd fallen to strange cults and cliques as well, from the strange biker gangs who cooked and ate their fellows, to the orchestra made of people bring tortured over and over again. Blake wondered how long it would take for the people in here to descend to that level.

"I really wish you hadn't said that," she whispered into his neck. "How long has it been?"

"I don't know. The Fist Office said their ordeal lasted five years."

"This has been longer."

"Maybe it's because there are more people trapped here."

"Maybe it's because there is no end. Maybe this is an eternity."

"Don't say that," he hissed, gripping her hand with his gloved one. "This will end eventually. The people come out the tunnel."

"What if the people who come out are the lucky ones? What if there's a version of us that already came out? They flipped the coin and won. We lost, and we get to stay here for all eternity until we're driven mad or consumed by the monster outside."

Jaune's other hand came to clutch at hers. "Don't give in," he whispered, begged. "Please, Blake. I need you here."

"Hah." She smiled into his neck. "I'm not ending it all. Don't worry, I'm not that far gone. I'm not like Cross."

"There's a chance she's still alive."

"I doubt it. Years tortured by an addiction that will never go away. I saw the way she clawed at her own veins with her fingernails. It was driving her mad. I think, by now, she will have thrown herself outside."

The familiar clacking of the wheels on the tracks lulled them to sleep.

/-/

It had been at least ten years and probably more.

Lily and River spoke and acted like adults trapped in the bodies of children, their maturity outstripping their physical ages. Cardin spoke like an old man. Stacey had taken her life a few years before, slinking away to the funeral carriage where Lauren lay and taking a spot by her, pulling a cloth over her own face before she ended herself.

Every few months, someone from the Carnal Casino would come and hand them a flier, but the messenger hadn't been seen for a whole year now. Blake wondered if the casino had erupted into violence and fallen. Sometimes, she wondered if everyone else on this damn train wasn't already dead, either killed by other passengers, the beast outside, or dead by their own hands.

And then a new messenger came.

He was a topless man with red lines down his back and chest, welts upon his skin, and worse yet, clumsy words scarred into his body by a sharp knife. One of his eyes had been torn out and he carried with him a knife that he used to mark his own arm. The man had mutilated himself.

"What have you done to yourself, old man?" Cardin demanded. "Have you been driven mad?"

"Mad?" the man whispered. "No. I have seen the truth – we all have. The Church of the Holy Being, in the city of New Vale, calls out for all to come worship He Who Waits Outside. I come with our invitation to you and all to join the great sacrifice!"

Cardin readied his weapon. "I think you should leave."

The one-eyed man pointed at them. "You shall be taken to be sacrificed to Him, so that we might sate his hunger and reach the end of our journey." The man stabbed himself in the hand and cast his blood onto the faces of Lily and River. The children did not flinch. "You have been marked for sacrifice! Our priests shall come! Make yourself ready to meet He Who Waits Outside."

Cardin snarled and, without mercy, pulped the man's head with one swing of his mace. The body fell, blood and gore spilling out. Blake winced, but Jaune didn't call Cardin out on it. Even if the old man in a young body had gone a little crazy, he was still less crazy than the others out there.

"They want to feed us to the monster, dad." said River, oddly calm coming from a ten-year-old girl.

Cardin huffed. "Good luck to them. I'm a huntsman."

"It won't stop them trying," Lily added, kicking her foot through the dead man's blood. "He was stabbing himself on the way here. Probably left a trail for their priests to follow. I don't want to be eaten by what got… whatever his name was."

"Patrick," Blake helpfully said.

"Yeah. Him. I'd rather go out like Stacey."

"No one will be dying here," Meryl said, sharply. She came over to pull Lily away, and then placed a hand on Cardin's chest. "Your father isn't going to let some crazy zealots hurt you. Is he?"

"He most certainly is not," Cardin rumbled, pulling her against his chest. He glanced over his wife to Jaune and Blake. "And you? I assume you don't want this thing being fed either. Are you going to help us?"

"Of course." Jaune said it like it was obvious. "Our priority is staying alive until we can fight this beast head on. If it wants to be fed, that means it's hungry. We'd rather it grows hungry enough to show itself."

And try to eat them all. They all knew what he meant, but they were all too messed up to care. After decades in this place, there wasn't a one of them afraid to die. Only people who were afraid to keep living as others died. If their journey had ended now and they all got off the train, Blake wasn't sure any of them could fit back into normal life. Darkly, she realised she couldn't even remember life.

She could vaguely remember her parents, but their faces were blurry. Similarly she could remember Tom. No, Tim. Timothy, their pet spider. And Ruby. Ruby had been in love with Jaune, hadn't she? It didn't make Blake feel guilty to think it, because while she might have stolen Jaune away from her, Ruby was luckier to not be here.

"We'll fortify this carriage and prepare for their attack," Jaune said. "Gather weapons. This is likely to get bloody."

Next Chapter: 7th October (2 weeks)

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