Giallo stood before his mother. She knelt down, waiting for him to approach. Unlike before, her clothes were neat and tidy and her long black hair was tied back in a bun. her blue eyes betrayed no emotion at all.

"Giallo, I am going to embrace you. Prepare yourself," she said.

Giallo nodded and wrapped his arms around her. Her arms closed around him and he was enveloped in her embrace. Giallo closed his eyes and felt himself relax. That was a mistake. He could feel the pressure on his ribs, enough to shatter them into powder. He immediately summoned his aura to save himself.

He felt the surge of power throughout his body, in every vein and fiber of muscle. It was the only way he could protect himself from his mother. Feeling, the resistance, Giallo's mother squeezed him even harder. Giallo bit down on his cheek to keep from screaming. This was how the two spent their time. Despite appearances, this was not a ritual born of malice, but one born of love.

Bianca Fiamma was born with an abnormal body. Since she was born she has had the strength of ten men. Her hands could easily destroy stone as if it were paper. Her fists were enough to slay man and Grimm alike even without the aid of Aura. In terms of raw physical strength she was one of the mightiest creatures on the planet, but while her strength was a blessing on the battlefield, it was a curse in every other part of her life. She couldn't embrace her parents, she had to restrain herself at all times lest she risk causing irreparable harm, she could never truly tell her husband how much she loved him. She couldn't even hold her own child in her arms without killing him.

Giallo grit his teeth as he felt his mother's vice like grip. The force pressing down on him felt like he was about to be torn in half. But, inside he was smiling. It was supped to be part of his training, but he thought of it as a reward. There was nothing he enjoyed more than being held by his mother.

After several seconds, his mother released Giallo from her embrace. Giallo fell to the ground and gasped for air. His aura flickered and sputtered, but it remained unbroken.

"Well done, our bond as parent and child has deepened."

As gently as she could, she slowly ran her fingers through Giallo's hair. this was the briefest indulgence he was allowed. he savored every second of it.

But like all things, this too was short lived. When Bianca made her declaration to forge her son into the ultimate weapon, she meant it. There was no time for things such as motherly affection. She merely allowed those brief moments of respite to keep Giallo's motivation from fading.

Bianca rose to her feet. "Now then, let us begin."

She raised her fists and charged at her son. Giallo narrowly avoided her fist as her punch sent a blast of wind past his head He couldn't afford to be hit. Even a glancing blow would tear right through his body, aura or not. He struck back, but his mother caught his fist. The tip of her finger brushed past his chin. It nearly broke his jaw. With a light shove, Giallo was driven into the ground.

"That is another failure," Bianca said. She pulled Giallo up onto his feet. "You must be stronger, for the world's evils will be merciless. It matters not that you are a child, or that I am your mother. If you mean to uphold the Lord's will, then you must be unbending."

"Yes, mother," Giallo replied.

Bianca suddenly fell to one knee, hacking and coughing into her hand. Giallo took a step towards her, but Bianca motioned for him to stop. She looked at the hand she had coughed into, and saw that it was wet with blood. With a scowl she clenched her fist once more.

"Let us continue," she said.

Giallo looked at his mother, her face covered in sweat, dark circles under her eyes, skin paler than a ghost and trembling like she was out in the cold.

"You're sick, mother. Must we do this now?" Giallo pleaded.

Bianca's shook her head. "I do not have much time left. I must engrave everything I know upon your body. All of my skills, all of my power will be yours. It must pain you so, to see me like this, but this is merely another trial the Lord has laid before you. you must overcome it. No more distractions. Fight me, my son."

The fight resumed. Bianca's fists were just as fast and strong as before, but her illness had robbed her of her stamina. after ten minutes of dodging and weaving around her attacks, her fists began to slow. A lesser fighter wouldn't have been able to see the difference, but Giallo was not ordinary.

Just as his mother's fist flew past his face, he countered with a strike of his own. his fist sailed into his mother's stomach, lifting her up off the ground as bile spilled from her mouth. She fell to the ground in a heap. Giallo stepped back, horrified at what he had done. He went to help up his mother but she pushed him away and slowly climbed to her feet.

"Do not insult me, my son," Bianca said, "I asked you to strike true, and that you did. Well done. I will reward you handsomely tonight. anything you wish."

Later that night, Giallo had his head in his mother's lap as they cooked over an open fire. He felt the warmth from the flames, as well as his mother. The only place he found peace was in her arms.

Bianca stroked Giallo's hair, a proud smile on her face. "You are nearly there, my son. I believe you can become even mightier than I. I will forge you into the perfect warrior, in the name of our Lord."

"Yes, mother."

Giallo closed his eyes, sleep calling for him. "I love you, mama."

"I love you too, Giallo."

This was a memory Giallo held onto. It was an ordinary day of training with his mother. He enjoyed those days dearly. It hadn't hit him until years later how much she truly meant to him.

Six months later, Bianca would succumb to her illness and lose her life, leaving Giallo to complete his training alone.

He was eight years old.

Giallo awoke with a start, wondering why his head was hurting. He felt something wet on his face, and he realized that he had been crying. Sighing, he looked in his bag and pulled out a small, faded photograph. It was a picture of his mother, the only one he had left.

After a quick shower Giallo left the dorm. He knew that Nigel and Rock would spend the day doing whatever it was that they did. For a brief moment he considered spending the day with Lucia. That idea was quickly discarded.

Traveling through the campus, Giallo thought about what he should do. Free time was not something he was used to. For as long as he could remember, his time was filled with either training or fighting. He saw all the people around him but knew that he had no chance of socializing with them.

"What to do, what do do."

As he traveled, his mind went back to that Grimm he fought in the forest. It was the first time his fists had failed to kill something. That troubled him greatly.

"Am I getting weaker?" he asked himself.

He curled in one finger and felt a surge of power in his right arm.

5

He reared back and punched the air, unleashing a powerful gust of wind. It was at that moment he noticed how many women had chosen to wear skirts that day. The air was filled with shocked and embarrassed screams.

Giallo whistled nonchalantly and tried to walk away. He felt someone grab his shoulder and stiffened. Turning around, he saw Glynda glaring down at him, a vein pulsing in her temple.

"Mr Fiamma, would you like to join me in my office?"

XxX

After Glynda had finished yelling at him about things like "sexual harassment" and "hostile work environments", Giallo sat in a seat with his ears ringing. Glynda was a frightening woman when she got upset.

Glynda exhaled and sat at her desk. "That aside, how are you adjusting to life at Beacon? I understand that you lived alone these past few years."

Giallo shrugged. "I'm not used to sleeping on a bed, for one. The rooms feel so small. I'm used to looking up at the sky when I fall asleep."

Glynda smiled. "That is one of the few benefits of being a Hunter, being able to walk the land, feeling the ground beneath your feet, calling home wherever you choose to lay your head for the evening."

"What made you stop?"

"Someone asked me to use my skills for a greater cause, and I've always dreamed of being a teacher."

"You ever miss it?"

Glynda looked off into space. "I'd be lying if I said that I didn't, but I have grown to like my life at Beacon. I enjoy a nice, structured existence."

"That reminds me, another thing I'm not used to is being in charge of people. Bad enough you people made me leader, but you stuck me with three headcases. Why'd Ozpin even make me leader in the first place?"

"I admit, there are times where I don't understand that man's thought processes, but Professor Ozpin seldom chooses poorly. And in all seriousness, could you imagine any of your teammates in a leadership position?"

Giallo shook his head. "Lucia's as likely to turn on us as he is an enemy, Nigel's tough as nails but he's completely out of his mind, and Rock is just no good. It's gonna take some doing to whip him into shape."

Glynda chuckled softly. "Your team is a tad dysfunctional, but it's far from the worst I've seen in my time here. If you have the time, ask some of the other staff members about Team STRQ. That will help to put things into perspective. If there's nothing else, you are free to go. I'm sure you have better things to do on your day off than being lectured by me."

Giallo shrugged. "I don't really mind, Miss."

"In any case, I will see you on Monday, Giallo. And please remember what we talked about."

XxX

Lucia laid in his bed staring at the ceiling. He had been in his bed since Friday night, and now it was a Sunday afternoon. He had laid in his bed, watching the hours slowly while away.

He was bored. He was so very bored. He wasn't used to this, order, structure. He was used to feeling the ground beneath his feet, traveling from one deadly duel to the next without a care in the world. He missed it, the smell of blood, the feeling of flesh yielding to his fists, the screams of his enemies. He missed the exhilaration of bullets whizzing past his head, blades piercing his skin, the clubs and fists bruising his flesh.

It would be so easy to find someone in the school and fight them. They'd defend themselves, and give him the fight of his life. But he made a promise not to hurt the students, and he intended to keep it. But he could feel the urge gnawing at him, like insects crawling beneath his skin. Everything he wanted was within reach, but he couldn't grasp it. It was torture he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy.

His ears started ringing. He shut his hands over his ears but the sound still rang inside his brain. His body grew hot. He started panting. The heat grew unbearable. He was burning up.

Delirious, he fell out of his bed and stumbled over to the nightstand. He opened a drawer and grabbed a small knife that belonged to Rock. He pressed the blade's tip against his chest, and slowly pushed it inside of him. It was a shallow wound, not even enough to really call it a wound, but it helped all the same.

He sighed with relief. The noises stopped along with the burning feeling. He fell to the floor, all energy having left his body.

He didn't know how much longer he could take this. He needed to kill someone, anyone. He could only hold himself back for so long.

He had to let it out before he did something he would regret.

XxX

Rock walked through the empty theater. He wasn't used to it being this quiet. Normally it'd be filled with students watching a fight or listening to a lecture, but it was the weekend so there was no one around.

Rock scanned the room until he found what he was looking for. It was a large screen with the symbol of the Huntsman Association displayed on it. Rock pressed a finger against the screen and a list of possible jobs appeared. As a student, he could take on an assignment for money, but none of the jobs he saw looked appealing.

He looked and saw that the jobs could be sorted by type.

"So I should be able to see open bounties," he said to himself.

"And why do you wish to see that?" a voice asked.

Rock turned and saw Professor Alder. The elderly teacher was leaning on a cane and yawning.

Rock went back to the board. "Hey, gramps. I was just looking for someone."

Professor Alder raised an eyebrow. "Gramps? Well, I suppose this is as good a time as any to teach you about missions. The Association receives requests from all across Remnant. Sometimes we're asked to escort civilians through hostile territory, or clear Grimm out of an area, as well as finding and rescuing missing people. As you mentioned, there are missions that require us to apprehend fugitives."

Alder pressed a button on the screen and a list of open bounties appeared. Each one had a letter next to their name.

"The grade is used to determine the level of difficulty. D Grade is about the level of a student. Those are your bail jumpers, your common thugs, those types. On the other end you have A Grade. Those have been determined by the Association to be incredibly dangerous. A Rank fugitives would require at least one veteran Hunter to defeat."

Rock thought for a moment. "The person I'm looking for is definitely A Rank."

Alder scrolled to the top of the list. Rock saw her immediately. Her hair and eyes were identical to his own. Looking at her eyes, there was nothing there. No joy, no kindness, no compassion. It was clear that she deserved to be an A Ranked criminal.

Rock ground his teeth. "Yeah, that's her."

"Do you know that woman?"

"She's my mom."

Alder paused for a moment. "I see."

"Yeah. You know, I heard all these stories about her growing up, and a lot of it sounded like bullshit, but looking at her now, I can tell they're all true. She's exactly what people say she is."

Rock sighed and walked away. "Thanks for the lesson, gramps. See you in class."

Alder looked at the bounty list again. He hated how many of these people he recognized. There were people who he fought alongside many years ago, people who had made names for themselves as Huntsmen before falling astray, and even some he recognized as former students.

Unbidden, his thoughts went to his current student, Rock. He could see the great potential that boy held, but he was still far from where he needed to be. People who experienced both the light and dark were the hardest to handle.

But ensuring that he stayed on the right path was part of Alder's job as a teacher.

XxX

The man walked into the bar. He'd had a long, hard day of work and he felt like unwinding for a bit. Walking in he could see that it was a run down place filled with smoke and people that looked to be of ill repute. It was just how he liked it. This was the outer edge of the city, even beyond the wall. If there was anywhere he'd be able to get some peace and quiet it would be here

The man walked up to the counter and took a seat. The barman looked him up and down before reaching for a glass.

"What're you havin'?" he asked.

"Whatever's good."

The barman filled the glass and handed it to the man. "So, what's your story?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You look like a man that's got a story to tell. People like that come here all the time. Sometimes it's Huntsmen, other times it's bangers or pushers. I even get a few lawmen in here from time to time, and every single one chomping at the bit to tell me all about themselves. So what about you?"

"You'll forgive me if I don't go baring my soul to a total stranger, I hope."

"Fair enough. You got a name at least?"

The man took a long drink. "Gin."

"Much obliged, Gin. You just sit back and take a load off."

Gin relaxed and enjoyed his drink. He closed his eyes and listened to the low murmur of conversation. But a different sound overpowered all the others. Slowly, the door to the bar opened and a group of men walked in. the men walked up to the bar and surrounded Gin. One leaned over and placed a hand on Gin's shoulder.

"You boys need something?" Gin asked.

"Man you know what the fuck this is," one man responded. "Took out six'a my guys yesterday. You must be from outta town, else you'd know better than to fuck with the Black Knuckles. Boss put a hundred large on your head. If you knew what was good for you you'd already be outta here."

Gin glanced at the pistol the man had tucked in his waistband. He turned and went back to his drink. "You've saved me a bit of trouble, actually. I was asked to kill that boss of yours. Just tell me where to find him and I'll be out of your hair."

The man reached for the gun. "That ain't how this is gonna play."

Gin sighed. "Boy, if you pull out that gun I'll kill you. Then I'm gonna kill your friends for being with you, and then I'm gonna have to kill every living thing in this place for being witnesses. I've had a long day, so I'd rather not have to waste time that could be spent drinking."

The room went arctic in an instant. The patrons suddenly stopped talking. All eyes were on Gin and the men threatening him. If the lights in the bar worked properly, they would have seen the way Gin's jaw tightened, or the wooden bar cracking beneath his fingers.

"Now hold on," the barman protested. "There's no need for any kind of violence."

The man with the gun laughed. "Ain't no other way around this shit right here."

Gin pushed his chair out and stood in front of the man threatening him.

"Fine, guess I'm not gonna convince you otherwise. Go ahead, pull it. You get one chance, but that's all you get."

The man had his hand on the gun's handle. Sweat poured down his face. He drew the gun and raised it high, but before the man holding it could twitch against the trigger the back of Gin's fist sailed across the man's jaw and sent his head spinning a full one-eighty degrees. The man stood there frozen in shock for a moment before falling to the ground in a heap. Not missing a beat he buried his fist in the next man's chest. Gin's fist shone with a white light and his victim was blown into a wall. He slowly slid to the floor, leaving behind a trail of blood, a fist sized hole where his heart used to be. Gin kicked the next man on his knee, sending him screaming to the floor. He raised his foot and crushed the man's rib cage.

Gin looked at the last man standing. The man dropped his gun and ran for the door. He made it to the doorknob before he felt a gust of wind on his back. Gin had sliced at the air with the flat of his hand, and in the next moment the other man's head fell off of his shoulders and rolled on the ground. The look on his face showed that he hadn't even realized what happened.

Gin looked at the scattered corpses. "Shit, guess I can forget about finding their boss." His eyes went to the remaining patrons, huddled up and cowering in the corner. They were afraid, terrified. That much fear from that many people meant Grimm, and that wouldn't do at all. They had to go.

"I just wanted to relax."

When Gin was finished, he sat back in his seat and poured another drink. He raised the glass to his lips, but stopped when he heard his scroll ringing. He looked and saw that it was an unknown number.

"Who is this?"

The voice on the other end laughed. "Man, you are difficult to get a hold of. This is Gin, right?"

"How did you get this number?"

"Don't worry about that. I've got a proposition for you. I'm working on a little project, and I could use your expertise. I've seen the work you've left all over Vale, you're exactly the kind of guy I need on this"

"You need muscle, you mean?"

"I need a killer, and you're the best around. I'm not asking you to work for free, of course. I'm willing to pay you handsomely for your services."

"Never had a need for money. If you need some people dead just make sure they're worth killing."

"That's what I like to hear. Meet me at the abandoned warehouse by the harbor, we can discuss the... particulars."

"Here, there, makes no difference to me. All I wanna know is who I'm working for."

"You can call me Roman, Roman Torchwick. I'm looking forward to seeing you in person, Gin."