The rusted, abandoned warehouses of Vale's industrial district were often used as a hideout for the criminally inclined. If they wanted to lay low, the slow churn of the docks and cawing seagulls provided a relaxing backdrop as they waited for any heat to die down. Most people spent years moving from building to building, treating the docks as their home. Others opted to spend as little time as possible in these places.

"Why are we stuck in this shithole, anyway?" Sturm complained. The aging horse faunus barely tolerated sleeping in tents in the woods, but being forced to sleep on a wooden pallet in a warehouse with a leaky roof wore down his patience completely. He wanted something more dignified, befitting a man of his station.

"Because Adam wants us on standby in the city, and his orders are absolute," Cinnabar replied, thumbing through her book. She kept a cool facade, but the impatient flapping of her large, red moth wings revealed her growing frustration with her living arrangements. "You knew what you signed up for. If you want to walk into a hotel and have the police and Hunters called on you, feel free."

Sturm snorted angrily. "Don't talk back to me, whelp. This is beneath me, beneath all of us. How do they expect us to fight in these conditions?"

"Much as I hate to admit it, I agree with Sturm," Homura said. The young grasshopper faunus looked up at the hole in the roof. He stepped out of the way before bird droppings fell onto his head, grimacing when he saw the splatter on his shoes. "This is abhorrent. I didn't want to come to Vale to begin with. I wanted to stay in Mistral."

"We all know why you wanted to stay in Mistral. 'Oh Lady Sienna, mi amado, let us become one in our journey of justicia." The old man let out a dry laugh and took a swig from his flask.

Homura coughed, his face turning red. "I joined the White Fang to enact justice on behalf of our people. Romantic aspirations never factored in. However, if Lady Sienna were to reward me for my efforts, I wouldn't complain."

Duardo cackled. "You think she'll let you spend the night with her? Maybe that's why that Adam boy is such a hard worker. I bet Sienna's got a grip like a pitón."

"Getting back to the point," Sturm interjected, "I won't be able to operate at full capacity if I throw out my back from sleeping on piles of wood. We need a change of scenery."

Homura pumped his fist. "Finally, we can leave this dump. So, where are we going? I've always liked those big houses the rich folk live in."

Sturm rolled his eyes. "Yes, four Faunus living in a mansion and none of them are servants, that won't raise any suspicion at all. Why don't we save time and just turn ourselves in to the police now?"

"Let's find a little shack in the slums," the old man said. "They won't look twice at any faunus there."

Homura sighed. "No way, I'm not trading one run down hovel for another."

Cinnabar closed her book. "I've got it. I'll let you know when it's done. Have one of the grunts bring a car, and put a cleaning crew on standby."

XxX

Cinnabar looked around the area. It was a quiet suburb, with a few people milling about outside. A place like this people mostly kept to themselves, which suited her down to the ground. The last thing she needed was a nosy neighbor getting curious.

She crept down the street until she found what she was looking for. It was a modestly sized house with a single car in the driveway. That would work. She got out of the car and checked over her disguise, a gray pantsuit and a pair of black sunglasses. Her wings were folded up flat against her back. She looked like a city official, but more importantly she looked like a human. She walked up to the front door and rang the bell. The man who answered looked aged, out of shape, clearly not a hunter. Perfect.

"Can I help you?" the man asked.

Cinnabar cleared her throat. "Hello, I'm from the Vale Census Bureau and I'm conducting a survey of the neighborhood. May I come in?"

The man smiled and waved her inside. "Please, come in."

Cinnabar stepped into the living room and took a quick look around. The first thing she noticed was a woman sitting on the couch with her face in a newspaper.

The woman looked up and smiled. "Oh, hello. I wasn't expecting any company. Would you like some tea?"

Cinnabar shook her head. "I appreciate it, but no thank you. I'm here on business. I just have a few questions and I'll be on my way."

"What would you like to ask?" the man said.

"How many people live in this house?"

"Just me and my wife."

"No children?"

The man brushed the back of his head. "None living with us. All our children live by themselves. One moved to Mistral and the other went off to Atlas. We keep in contact, but they haven't visited in years."

Cinnabar nodded. "I see. Do you have any guests staying with you or on the way?"

The woman shook her head. "Oh no. we keep to ourselves nowadays."

Cinnabar jotted down a note. "Thank you. You've given me some valuable information."

"Is there anything else you'd like to ask?" the woman questioned.

"No, that isn't necessary. I have more than enough," Cinnabar replied.

Cinnabar set the clipboard down. She reached into her coat and pulled out a metal baton. She pressed a button on the side and a curved blade sprang out and locked into position. She dashed forward and stabbed the blade into the man's neck. There were a brief seconds of stunned silence before she pulled the blade out. The man clamped down on the wound, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. The other woman didn't even have time to scream before Cinnabar grabbed her by the hair and dragged the blade across her throat. She fell to the ground, letting out soft choking sounds.

Cinnabar looked at the two dead bodies on the floor. Part of her wondered who they were, what kind of life they lead. But another part of her didn't care at all. They were in the way, so they had to go.

Cinnabar pulled out her scroll and dialed a number. "It's done. Just two. I'll send you the address."

In minutes the house was filled with the noise of machines as they cleaned the blood from the carpet and furniture. Two cleaners were wrapping the bodies in plastic while the others looted the house. Once they were finished they covered the bodies in a tarp and carried them out to the car.

"Dump the car in the harbor, take a bus back to the city," Cinnabar ordered.

The nearest cleaner nodded. "At once. Glory to the White Fang."

Cinnabar exhaled and called her teammates. By the time they arrived she had just taken a shower and was watching the other members squabble over sleeping arrangements.

"I want the bed," Sturm said.

Homura pointed at the couch. "You can sleep there. I want the bed."

Duardo was in the kitchen looting around the fridge. He grabbed two beers and broke the tops off, emptying both into his mouth at the same time. He wipe his mouth and belched loudly. "I just wanna sleep with Cinnabar."

Cinnabar cleared her throat. "I did the work, so I get the bed. They've got a spare mattress in the basement, so one of you figure out who gets it. The last one gets the couch. Duardo, you can sleep outside for all I care. If you need me, I'll be taking a nap."

Cinnabar turned and went to the bedroom. She flopped down onto the bed and sighed happily. She flapped her wings, feeling the tension leaving her body. She drifted off to sleep, the two murders already a distant memory.

XxX

The lights of the city faded into the background as the car sped down the street. The driver had one hand on the wheel and a cigarette in his mouth, leaning back in his seat as the wind blew over him. The passenger was a bundle of nerves, constantly looking out for what he thought were police hot on their trail. The low rumble of the engine was drowned out by the radio, and the driver's singing.

Yeah, I got shooters but I'm duckin' shooters
Pop 'em up, they hit the homie sister, guess we both the loser
Po-Po pull me over with a half a kilo and a Ruger
I can't move the same, I gotta readjust how I maneuver

"Will you turn that off?" the passenger asked. He was jumpy, which was understandable. Two faunus riding in a stolen car was usually the start of a very tasteless joke. The two dead bodies in the trunk were just an added bonus. He was always the meticulous one. He made sure to check for any broken lights, expired tags or out of date papers. He didn't want to give the police any excuse to pull them over.

The driver on the other hand couldn't care less, recklessly speeding and weaving through traffic. Rolling his eyes, he turned up the radio and sang even louder.

I reminisce that feeling when I think about it
A million in the bank, I used to dream about it
No heat up in the whip, I used to sleep up out it
Up in the morning whippin' cocaina 'bout it, yeah, yeah
I got bags, ho, is you fuckin' with me? Yeah, yeah
Time to blast, ho, is you fuckin' with me? Yeah, yeah
Let that yayo dry on the table, droppin' fat slabs
Porsche Spyder look like a spaceship, they like, "Goddamn"

The passenger turned off the radio. "Take this seriously."

The driver rolled his eyes. "Take what seriously? We take the car to the docks, dump it in the water, and then we go kick our feet up. I've done this a dozen times. Back in Mistral we were dumping bodies every week."

The passenger sighed. "How much longer do we have to do this, anyway? All I've done since I joined the White Fang was clean up crime scenes, dump bodies, and deliver messages."

The driver laughed. "Thought you'd be a revolutionary, fighting on the front lines like Sienna or Adam, huh?"

"I just thought it'd be a little more glamorous."

"Look, kid, this gang is a job like any other. You gotta prove yourself to the bosses, and if they like you, you get moved up. Lemme ask you something, you ever killed anyone before?"

"No, never."

The driver took a drag on his cigarette. "I did, once, and that's when I knew that I didn't want to get promoted. I've been in this group since Belladonna was running things, but it's different now. All that picket lines and sign holding shit is in the past. Way it is now, you gotta be willing to do whatever it takes. You think the guys in Murcielago got to where they are because they're good at delivering messages? No, they're where they are cause they proved that they're willing to do what needs to be done. Shit, they just killed two people for a place to sleep. Not like they even needed to. All the faunus in this city one of 'em would've given them a place to stay. Me? I'm fine where I'm at, and you should be too."

the remainder of the drive was spent in silence. They pulled into the harbor and stopped before the docks. After getting out the car, the two pushed it into the water and watched it sink.

"You wanna say a few words?" the older man asked.

The younger man shook his head. "No, not really."

The driver clapped the other man on the back. "Figures. Well, that's a job done. How about we hit up Peaches tonight? I'll pay."

XxX

The shrill ringing of her scroll woke Cinnabar up from her nap. She blindly groped around for it, feeling it with her fingers.

"Hello?"

"I have a job for you."

The voice on the other end woke her up immediately.

"Brother Adam! What are your orders?"

"Do you recall the First Bank of Vale? We had petitioned them in the past to… reconsider their lending habits towards faunus, but they still haven't acquiesced to our demands. I want you and your team to provide a more persuasive message."

"As you wish. Are we taking prisoners?"

"No prisoners, no hostages. Make sure they feel it."

"As you wish, Brother Adam."

Cinnabar ended the call. She turned over and slapped Duardo awake.

"Get up, old man. It's time to go to work."

Duardo yawned and got out of bed. He reached over and grabbed a bottle near the bed, but frowned when he saw that it was empty.

"Can we get some cervezason the way?"

Once everyone was ready, they piled into a car and drove into the city. The bright lights of the skyscrapers formed a beacon that lit their path downtown. Once they arrived at their destination they stood outside the entrance to the bank. It was an hour before closing time, and the lobby was filled with employees and waiting customers.

Duardo emptied a bottle and tossed it aside. "How you wanna handle this, amigos?"

Cinnabar looked up towards the top of the building. The lights in the offices were still on.

"Homura and I will start at the top, you and Sturm start at the bottom. We'll meet up after we're done."

Cinnabar grabbed Homura and flew into the air. As she rose into the sky she spotted her target, the bank's manager. She floated outside the window and dropped Homura. His feet landed on the air as if it were solid ground. His legs bulged and he rocketed through the window with a loud boom.

Cinnabar sighed and floated in behind him.

"I want to go back to bed," she complained.

The manager was on his knees begging for mercy, tears streaming down his face. Homura had already left, leaving the job to her. She let out a sigh and grabbed her weapon.

She knelt down before him and grasped him by the chin.

"Please," the man begged, tears streaming down his face and a nose full of snot, "please let me go. I'll do whatever you want, I swear. I can pay you if you want money. I'll do anything."

Cinnabar shook her head. "You had multiple opportunities to change your mind, but you refused. Everything that happens tonight is on your head. I hope your replacement can be more reasonable."

She jammed the blade into the man's neck and watched him feebly paw at it, trying in vain to save his life. She pulled it out and watched the blood spill out. She turned around and saw a group of security guards streaming into the room. Narrowly avoiding a barrage of gunfire, she jumped back out the window. She glided around the building's exterior before finding another way in. She dove through a window and landed in a large office. The room was full of cubicles and she could hear the clacking of keys. The noise slowly died down as the employees raised their heads to see what had caused that noise. They looked at this Faunus woman, blades in her hands and her uniform streaked with blood and felt a deep sense of dread.

Cinnabar looked around. "I'm sorry, but none of you are making it out alive."

XxX

Sturm watched Cinnabar fly off. He turned his attention towards the lobby. He gripped his lance and pointed it straight ahead. He got into position, power coursing through his body. His body crackled with energy, a surging power that was unleashed in a single charge. The impact was like a bomb went off. Everything in his path was destroyed. He reduced the wall he ran though to rubble. The people in his way became a fine mist. The ground he walked on was pulverized beneath his feet. He laughed as he saw the other humans cowering in fear. He thrust his lance into the nearest one and watched them go limp.

"I know none of you can hear me, but I need to say this. This isn't about money, or anything like that. This is about you humans paying the price for your actions towards the Faunus people."

His face twisted into a grin beneath his mask as he wiped the blood from his lance. "But, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying myself."

Duardo yawned as he walked past the scene of carnage. "So dramatic. Come on, let's get this over with."

The two men went to a nearby elevator. After a short ride up, the doors slid open to reveal a row of armed guards wielding swords and rifles.

"I think we're on the wrong floor, ese," Duardo remarked.

The hall exploded in gunfire. Duardo leapt forward, catching a guard by the face and slamming them into the ground. The other guards grabbed their swords and moved in to attack. The first guard swung at Duardo's neck. The blade seemed to slide off of him, leaving the man unharmed. Suddenly, blood spurted from the guards neck as a large wound began to open up. He bled out in seconds, unable to even comprehend his own defeat. The other security guards looked at their fallen ally and balked. They realized too late that none of them could defeat the enemy before them.

Duardo rushed forward with his arm extended, catching one of the guards and taking them to the ground. His heavy boot came down hard on the man's neck with a sickening snap.

He dashed behind another guard and caught them in a headlock. The guard fought and thrashed, but Duardo's limbs were like iron. The old man watched, waiting for a reaction. None came. He sighed and squeezed until he felt the guard's neck break. He let the body drop to the floor and picked up the dead guard's rifle. Too late, the other guards turned to run. In their hands, the bullets from their guns wouldn't even pierce Duardo's skin. In his hands, the aura infused bullets ripped through the guards' armor like it was made of paper. They were trained to fight robbers and thugs, not Huntsmen. One by one, they fell to the ground, their bodies riddled with holes.

Sweating, laughing, and covered with blood, Duardo ran down the hall to find his next target.

"Come out, anyone who wants to challenge El Colmillo!"

Sturm shook his head and closed the elevator doors. He rode to a higher floor, itching to spill more human blood.

XxX

Homura drove the heel of his foot into a guard with enough force to split the man's helmet and skull in half. Before the first man even hit the ground he was in front of a second, burying his fist in the man's chest and punching right through the man's armor. The remaining guards all surrounded him, rearing to attack. He stomped the ground, activating the dust in his boots. Large spikes of ice jutted from the ground, impaling all the men around him.

Homura took a deep breath, taking in the pungent scent of blood and gunpowder. It was the smell of victory.

Homura pulled out his scroll and dialed Cinnabar.

"I'm done here," he said. He looked out a window and could see flashing police lights. They'd attracted a crowd. "The police are here, we should go before the Huntsmen arrive."

"You're right. I'm done here, just stay there and I'll come-"

The line suddenly went dead. The last thing Homura heard was the sound of something breaking and static. That made him pause. Had the huntsmen already arrived? He ran down the hall to find Cinnabar.

When he reached the end of the hall he skidded to a stop. Someone was standing in his way. A lone boy, trembling like he was out in the cold. The boy's hair covered most of his face, but he looked straight ahead. He didn't seem to notice the carnage surrounding him, only looking directly at Homura.

"Who are you?" Homura demanded.

The boy didn't answer. He raised his fists in a fighting stance, a large grin breaking out across his face.