Saturday afternoon, Nigel and Rock were in the school's gym training together. The two traded blows, though Nigel landed far more than Rock. Even after getting the basics down he still couldn't bridge the gulf between him and Nigel. All his strikes were deflected with ease, and all of his attempts to block Nigel's attacks ended with him flat on his back. Not that that discouraged him. In fact, it just made him more motivated. Nigel was his friend, his partner, but also a target. He'd overcome him, no matter what.

After a quick shower, the two went to join their other teammates in the school's common area. The room was filled with students hanging out and chatting. Some were huddled around the big tv in the center of the room arguing about what show to put on, others were curled up chairs burying their faces in a book or their scrolls.

When Rock and Nigel entered the room, they saw Giallo and Lucia sitting at a table. Giallo was pointing at a page in a book, while Lucia squinted his eyes like he was struggling to read it. Lucia lifted the book and turned it over before tossing it over his shoulder. Giallo scrambled from his seat to retrieve the book, angrily slapping Lucia on the head.

"What are you guys doing?" Rock asked, pulling up a chair.

Lucia rubbed at the lump slowly forming on his head. "Giallo is trying to induct me into his cult."

Giallo puffed up with anger. "It's not a cult! The Illuminated Path is a religious organization with members all across Remnant. Even now we work to spread the Lord's will and do his bidding."

Rock blinked. "I don't know, that sounds a lot like a cult."

Giallo shoved the book into Rock's arms. "Read that, then you'll understand. It has everything you need to know. The origins of our order, our mission, everything. One look at that and you'll want to join us too."

Rock thumbed through the book before setting it on the table. "Maybe another time. "

Lucia leaned back in his chair. "I don't know why he's so insistent, I can't read anyway."

"Wait, you can't read? Then how have you been doing the schoolwork?" Rock asked.

Lucia beamed. "Nigel does it for me."

"Why?"

"Because I'm just so cute."

Nigel squirmed under the withering looks his teammates gave him.

"What? He is cute. Besides, I felt bad for him. I wouldn't want him to get kicked out of school just because he couldn't do the work."

Rock punched Nigel on the arm.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Being a simp."

Lucia giggled. "Don't be so hard on him. He's not the first person to fall for my charms."

Rock shook his head. "We'll talk about that later. More importantly, I'm bored. What are you all going to do about it?"

"Well, I was going to go into the city tonight. There's a special midnight screening of the Devil Slayer movie that I wanted to go to."

Rock thought for a second. "I'm not real into anime, but fuck it. Let's all go. We've never really hung out as a team, have we?"

"But a midnight show? The buses don't run that late," Giallo said.

"That's not a problem," Nigel said. "We can just take my car."

Rock looked over at Nigel. "You have a car?"

"Yeah. Between the money I make teaching karate and a few side jobs I saved up enough to buy a car."

"Nigel, if you've had a car this entire time, then why the hell have we been walking everywhere?"

Nigel shrugged. "Exercise?"

Rock grabbed Nigel and ground his knuckles into the boy's head. "You asshole. I could have been cruising for bitches this entire time."

"Ow! You know, this is why our team dynamic is so dysfunctional. You can't just lash out in anger at every little thing."

"I'll lash out however I god damn want. next time don't keep that shit from me, got that?"

Nigel broke free from Rock's choke hold. He saw how many people were staring at him and put his head in his hands. It seemed public humiliation would be a constant in his life.

"Let's head out now," Rock said. "We can cruise through the city for a few hours, then we can hit the theater when the movie starts."

After agreeing on a plan, the four boys gathered their things and went to the hangar. They rode a bullhead down to the garage where the students kept their vehicles. As they went to Nigel's car, they passed by a yellow motorcycle cordoned off with black and yellow tape, with a large sign in front reading DO NOT TOUCH in big block letters.

"Wonder who that belongs to," Nigel pondered. He knew that people got really protective over their bikes. It was usually the cause of him having to fight off a bunch of angry bikers. Sighing, he tried to remember where he parked his car. After more walking, he had the door unlocked and his teammates were piling in.

"Let me drive," Rock said, leaning on the side of the car.

"Do you even have a license?" Nigel asked.

"I know how to drive."

Nigel tossed Rock the keys. "Fine. If you crash you owe me a new car."

Rock got into the drivers seat and fired up the engine. He pulled out of the garage and went down the street, pulling onto the highway.

Rock mashed on the gas and sped down the road, laughing as the engine roared. Nigel curled up in his seat as Lucia stuck his head out the window and felt the wind blow on his face.

"Slow down, slow down!" Nigel shrieked. Rock laughed and went even faster, weaving through traffic and narrowly avoiding running down the cars in front of him. He turned on the radio and turned the volume up so loud the bass shook the car.

"Oh man, I love this song," Rock said. As he drove he felt his stomach rumbling. He had been so caught up in training that he forgot to eat lunch.
"Let's stop at the store first, I wanna pick up some snacks before the movie starts."

"Just buy snacks at the theater," Giallo said.

"Are you crazy? No way am I paying double for theater candy when I don't have to. None of you guys got out much, did you?"

"Nope," Lucia said. "Social maladjustment is our middle name."

Rock shook his head. He glanced into his rear view mirror and saw flashing lights. He changed lanes, right before a procession of police cars nearly ran him off the road. He saw nearly a dozen cars, and two large trucks with the Vale Police Department's logo on them. The screeching sirens told him that they were on their way to a crime in progress.

"Where do you think they're going?" Nigel asked.

Rock shrugged. "Who knows. All those guys it must be something serious."

"Follow them," Giallo said, an edge in his voice his other teammates had never heard before. There was a predatory gleam in his eye. Slowly, all of the teens got the same feeling: it was time for a fight.

Rock laughed. "You got it."

He pushed the pedal to the floor and sped off in pursuit of the police vehicles. He saw them exit the highway several miles down the road, the off ramp taking them into downtown Vale. They reached a tall building with a large group of police surrounding the entrance. Rock pulled over a fair distance away, and he and the others exited the car. When they reached the building, they knew right away that something was very wrong. The lobby looked like a bomb had gone off. There were deep craters in the walls and floor, body parts were strewn all over the ground, and there was a pungent smell of blood in the air.

Giallo ran up to a heavily armored police officer.

"What happened?"

The cop looked Giallo up and down. "Get out of here, kid. It's not safe here."

"I'm a huntsman, in training. Please, tell me what's going on."

The cop raised an eyebrow. "You're a huntsman? Alright, you didn't hear this from me, but there's White Fang in the building. Most of these guys are useless, they ain't even got their auras. We asked for backup from the Association, but we're still waiting on their response."

Without a word, Giallo rushed into the building.

"Come on!" he shouted at his teammates.

The others ran in after him. They ran up the stairs, it faster than taking the elevator.

"What exactly are we doing here?" Rock asked.

"Our jobs," Giallo replied. "There are people that need help and we're the only ones who can do that right now."

"Nigel, what can you tell us?"

Nigel closed his eyes and focused.

"Four of them, each on a different floor. They're strong, way strong." A small grin formed on his face.

"Alright," Giallo said. "This is your mission. Find the people responsible, and take them down."

Giallo sped off ahead of his teammates and went straight to the strongest power he felt. He went higher and higher, until he nearly reached the top floor. He dove through a door and sped down the hall. The tile floor shattered under his feet. He ran and ran until he found them. He saw the man standing over someone's body. Blood splattered his coat and dripped from the lance he held in his right hand. He wore a white mask shaped like a horse's head.

"Who the hell are you?" the man asked.

Giallo ran forward, his fist raised.

XxX

Lucia thought about following Giallo, but he instead decided to go his own way. He felt his heart pounding in his ears, and not due to the exercise. He was burning to kill, he needed it. It had been so long. He'd been a good boy so far, he earned a reward, right?

He felt a presence, and ran towards it. He could already smell the blood in the air and taste the metal on his tongue. He followed a trail of blood into a room. His eyes went wide as he saw the bodies strewn across the room. The stink of blood and death filled him with nostalgic feelings. He was right back in his element. He scanned the room, and found his target. It was a woman standing in the middle of the pile chatting into a scroll. Her large wings flapped lazily as she talked. She faced away from Lucia, unaware that she was being watched.

Lucia went still. His breathing slowed. He waited for the perfect moment. His body went tense, like a spring being pressed down. He exploded forward with blinding speed, striking at the woman. The woman dodged the blow, causing Lucia's fist to shatter her scroll instead of her skull like he intended.

The woman tossed aside the remains of her broken scroll and pulled out her weapons. She raised the pair of curved blades in front of her, preparing to attack.

Lucia let out a sigh. "Why did it have to be a woman? I can't enjoy myself like this."

Though he couldn't tell because of the mask, he knew the woman was glaring at him. The blades flew at him with a flash. The first he dodged before it cut into his neck. The second sailed harmlessly past his leg. Lucia ran forward, but tripped and fell. He looked and saw a chain wrapped around his ankle. He grabbed at it, trying to break it, but was suddenly lifted off the ground as the woman yanked on the chain and tossed him over her shoulder, slamming him into the ground. Lucia coughed and tried to get his bearings. His eyes widened as he saw another blade speeding towards his head. Lashing out, he caught the blade in his hand and felt it cut into his palm. He would have taken the time to savor the feeling, but there were more pressing matters at the moment. He hurriedly freed his leg from the chain and sprang to his feet.

He took a second to take stock of his surroundings. He was in the middle of a series of wooden partitions, surrounded by strange contraptions and devices he'd never seen before. He reached out and grabbed a metal rectangle and hefted it in his hand. It was decently heavy, it'd make for as good projectile. Looking around some more, he saw all kinds of things he could throw, like more metal parts and writing utensils. He stepped forward and his foot squished on something soft. He looked down and saw a dead woman, her eyes wide open but not staring at anything. Her long blonde hair went down her back. An idea formed in Lucia's head, one that he hadn't had since he was a child.

His face split into a grin. "I can work with this"

Cinnabar looked around, trying to find the boy. She couldn't find a trace of him, like he had disappeared. The office was strewn with debris and corpses, the boy seemed to blend in. the faunus woman took a step into the office. She tried to find a trace of the boy, but found nothing. But, a closer look at one of the bodies told her something was off. One of the bodies was missing a head.

Cinnabar heard something whistling through the air. She dodged seconds before something flew right into her eye. She turned and saw an object embedded into the brick wall behind her. It was a pen, an ordinary writing utensil. More things came flying, even faster than before. Cinnabar deflected the projectiles, grimacing as the tremors traveled up her arms. It was nothing but ordinary objects; a pencil sharpener, a paperweight, a hole punch, but the force combined with the boy's aura made each one a lethal weapon. Deflecting each one was like blocking a cannonball. Cinnabar felt the numbness creeping up her arms, but they just kept coming and coming.

The barraged stopped, leaving Cinnabar out of breath and lacking the strength to even lift her arms.

She heard the rapid pattering of footsteps. The boy ran in like a blur swinging something in his hand like a flail. She could see the attack coming, an object flying directly at her head, but she was too slow to avoid it. She could only watch as the flail crashed right into her. Her mask shattered, along with her nose. Cinnabar went flying back, landing with a thud. She tried to blink the stars out of her eyes and hoped the room would stop spinning long enough for her to fight back. She looked up and saw the boy standing over her smiling. In his right hand was his weapon; a woman's head, her long blonde hair tangled in his fist.

Lucia dropped the head. He crept up to the woman, watching her trying to crawl away with a mild sense of amusement. He crouched down beside her, and slowly, gently wrapped his hands around the woman's throat. He watched as the woman's eyes went wide with panic. She thrashed and kicked, but Lucia's grip only tightened. He let out a soft laugh as he watched the lights in her eyes go dim.

Then he suddenly let go, his hands burning like they were on fire. He began to cough. His insides boiled, his skin burned. It was the kind of agony that made one wish for the sweet release of death.

Cinnabar dragged herself to her feet, sucking in air. She watched the boy writhe in pain. That was the closest she had come to dying in a long time, but her poison had pulled her out of a bind once again.

But the more she looked the more she thought something was wrong. Most people would be knocked out after a dose that large, but this boy was still conscious, still writhing on the ground, and from the looks of it he was getting stronger. His dark green aura grew larger by the second, until is completely engulfed his body. She watched the boy drag himself to his feet, a wide smile on his face.

"This poison of yours, it's agonizing, but it isn't fatal. That means I win."

Cinnabar felt a chill. This boy was clearly on his last legs, but he spoke with complete confidence.

The boy let out a soft chuckle. "You must be confused, so I'll tell you a secret. My semblance makes me stronger as my pain increases. Using that poison of yours against me will be the last mistake you ever make."

The boy shot forward like a rocket, too fast for Cinnabar to follow. He drew back his fist and buried it in her stomach. It felt like her insides were being twisted up. The blow shattered her aura like glass. The boy followed up with a simple chop to her neck, but with his aura and semblance active that one blow was enough to separate her head from her body.

Lucia shuddered as he felt a sense of release that he hadn't felt in a long time. He fell on his back, his chest heaving as a sense of euphoria washed over him. For a brief moment, he was in absolute bliss.

Then, just as quickly, the moment faded, leaving only that familiar emptiness.

XxX

Nigel stepped aside before the metal heel tore through his head. The attack left a crater in the floor when it landed, sending dust and debris in every direction. The young boy rushed forward, but bent back as he closed in, a spike of ice narrowly avoiding his head. He smiled. This man was strong. His technique combined with his weapon made him a formidable opponent. Nigel heard a metallic whirring, followed by something locking into place. The man's feet were suddenly engulfed in flames. Nigel blocked and parried the flurry of kicks the man unleashed. He grimaced as the flames singed his hands.

Nigel attacked, but the man spun past his fist and delivered a crushing kick to his chest. Nigel fell onto his back, wheezing as pain tore through him. Wincing through the pain, he rolled out of the way before the man's burning boot crashed through his head.

Nigel sprang up to his feet and took a stance. He and the man stared each other down. The air was thick with anticipation. The bomb fell, and the two rushed at each other. Their fists were like lightning, but Nigel was slightly faster. Bit by bit, he broke down the man's defenses, until an opportunity presented itself.

Nigel narrowly avoided a fist in his face and buried his fist in the man's stomach. The man reeled from the blow. Nigel followed it up by driving his elbow into the back of the man's head. The blow landed with a loud crack, and the man hit the floor. Nigel stomped at the man's head, but his foot was caught in his opponent's grasp. He suddenly felt a sharp pain in his foot and shook his leg free. Nigel couldn't help but grin, even in this situation, the man still tried to break his ankle. He was a tenacious fighter.

The man slowly rose to his feet. He shook the stars from his eyes and prepared to attack. He looked at the boy in front of him, burned and bleeding and smiling like he was having the time of his life. Of course, he was enjoying himself too.

It was time to end this. He switched out the dust in his boots, and his feet crackled with electricity. He hopped on his feet. Once, twice, three times. After the third, he shot forward like a bolt.

Nigel narrowly avoided the attack, numbness creeping through his body. The man kept flying through the air, but instead of hitting the ground he seemed to jump off of the air, building more and more speed with every jump. The man suddenly jumped at Nigel, landing feet first in the boy's chest. It felt like a bomb went off. The impact shattered the windows in the hall and caused the lights to flicker.

Nigel laid flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn't move, he could barely breathe. He could feel broken ribs scraping against his flesh. His nose was full of the smell of burned skin. The ringing in his ears told him his eardrums had burst. He hadn't been this badly beaten in his life.

"Is this enough?" he asked. He looked up and saw Brooke standing over him, her long, auburn hair falling around her face. Her cold, blue eyes had not a single trace of pity.

"Get up," she spat.

"Haven't I done enough for you? Aren't we even?"

"As long as you're still breathing we'll never be even. You got me killed, remember?"

"It wasn't my fault!" Nigel shouted, coughing up blood and bile as tears streamed down his face.

"Yes it was. I died because you were weak, and a coward. You'll fight, and fight, and fight until I say you can stop. Not a moment sooner. Now get up."

The man paled as he watched the boy talk to himself. But then the boy stumbled onto his feet. Even looking as ragged as he did, the boy's stance was flawless and firm.

The man took to the air once more, bouncing around on the air as if it were solid ground. He rocketed at Nigel like a living laser. There was another explosion, and when the smoke cleared the man was laid out clutching at his chest, his breath coming out in shallow wheezes. Nigel stood with his fist extended, smoke coming off of his hands and the skin stripped from his fingers.

Nigel looked at the man and sighed. "You're probably wondering what just happened. I know someone else who's speedy like you, but the problem with you speedy guys is that you all attack in a straight line. It doesn't matter how fast you are if I know you're coming. All I did was use your speed against you."

Nigel walked up to the man and watched him slowly clamber to his feet. His body trembled as he tried to take a stance.

Nigel felt a small pang of sympathy. "You've never been hit like that before, have you? You're really weak."

Nigel kicked the side of the man's leg. He heard something pop, and the man lost his balance. Nigel grabbed the man's shirt and with his free hand slammed his palm right onto the man's ear. The sound shook the entire hallway. The man fell to his knees and vomited. His aura shattered into pieces like glass.

"This is just a theory, but to bounce around like that you'd need an extraordinary sense of balance. I just destroyed your semicircular canals. You won't even be able to stand up now."

Nigel stood over him and raised his hand. His fingers were straight like a knife. Without a word, he thrust his hand into the man's chest. He felt the pulsing of his heart grow weaker and weaker, until it stopped.

Nigel withdrew his hand and wiped the blood clean. He thought for a moment, and let out a long sigh.

"That was so lame."

XxX

Rock couldn't make heads or tails of what he was seeing. He had ran out into a hallway when he bumped into an old man. The old man wasn't dressed like any White Fang Rock had seen in the news. He wore what looked like a wrestling outfit with bright, shiny pants and high laced boots, complete with a leather mask instead of the porcelain ones the normal militants wore. Rock could tell by the red markings on the mask that this man was high up in the organization, but the more he observed him the less plausible it seemed.

The man was old, not as old as Professor Alder, but old. His hair was mostly gray, with only a few flecks of brown left. More perplexingly, he didn't really carry himself like a fighter. He was slouched over and swaying back and forth. He was relaxed, too relaxed. In fact…

"Are you drunk?" Rock asked, indignant.

The old man belched loudly. "Maybe. You got a drink?"

Rock sighed. "God damn it. Everyone else is probably off fighting some bad-ass, and I get stuck beating on some old wino. What the hell?"

The old man shrugged. "I didn't want to be here either, ese. I'd rather be at home asleep. I'm getting old, I can't be staying up this late."

Rock shook his head. "fuck it. Let's just get this over with."

"Ok," the old man responded.

The next thing Rock knew there was an arm wrapped around his neck and a knee buried in his gut. The blow had him seeing stars and sent a burning pain throughout his midsection. Not finished, the old man moved behind Rock and wrapped his arms around the boy's waist and slammed him with a fierce suplex. Rock's head hit the floor with enough force to shatter the tiles.

Still not done, the old man flipped over Rock while still holding on to the boy. He leapt into the air and slammed Rock into the ground a second time. The old man jumped up and struck a pose, like he was playing for an audience that wasn't there.

Rock's vision swam as he futily tried to defend himself. The pain was disorienting, and all he could do was watch as the man's boot came crashing down onto his face. The cracks in the floor grew even larger as Rock's body shook with every stomp.

Rock rolled out of the way before the boot fell on his face again. He stumbled to his feet, shaking his head to stop the dizziness.

"Thanks for the wake up call," he said, spitting out a glob of blood.

His fists flew out with a snap, but every punch was dodged with ease. The old man wasn't even trying to dodge, he just seemed to fall out of the way.

The old man yawned. "You're putting me to sleep, niño. Need to try harder than that."

Rock felt a flash of anger. He lashed out more, but still none of his blows hit the mark.

The old man suddenly stopped moving. Seeing an easy target, Rock struck again. His blow hit home, striking the man's stomach. But nothing happened. The old man looked like he didn't even take any damage. Rock suddenly felt a stabbing pain in his right hand. He suddenly couldn't move his fingers.

The old doubled over with laughter. "Break your hand, niño? Sorry about that, my semblance is a bit special. A weak little punch like that isn't enough to kill me."

Rock panicked. He attacked again with a wild, unfocused punch.

The old man caught Rock's fist in his hand. Shaking his head, he kicked Rock's feet out from under him and sent him to the floor. He could feel his arm locking up as the old man caught him in an arm-bar. He was trapped, the man's legs pinning him to the ground. Rock felt a vague sense of panic.

What do I do? I could use my aura to keep my arm intact. No, that would just tire me out faster. He won't just break my arm, he'll rip it off. Think! How can I get out of this?

He bit back a scream as his arm was bent to its limit. The precious few seconds he had left were ticking away. He racked his brain trying to find a solution, but none came. As the pain flooded his brain, his thoughts ceased.

He felt his power coursing through him, traveling from his core and flowing into his right arm. He clenched his broken fist and attacked the nearest target; the man's leg. His fist made contact, and he heard the sound of something snapping and a howl of pain. Rock's arm was free. He sprang up and saw the old man on the ground, a white bone sticking out of his leg. Rock looked at his fist, now even more mangled than it was before. But it didn't hurt, he just felt a sense of elation.

The old man hopped to his feet, putting his weight on his good leg. His face was beaded with sweat, but that cocky grin he had was still there.

"That was pretty good. Been a long time since someone actually hurt me. You'd go far in the ring, ever thought about going pro?"

"No thanks," Rock replied. "I don't do good with crowds."

Rock prepared to strike again, calling upon that same feeling as before. He felt the power twisting as it flowed into his hand. His fist sailed home, aiming for the old man's heart. But, for some reason, his fist traveled lower, burying itself in his stomach. The force of the blow sent the old man flying down the hallway. Rock fell to his knees, drained. After catching his breath, he went to check on his opponent.

The old man was in a heap, but alive, his chest rising and falling with every shallow breath.

"Not bad, nino," he said, coughing.

Rock sighed with relief. He turned to rejoin his teammates, but stopped. A thought came over him, one that wouldn't leave him be.

"Old man, when you grabbed me the first time, you could've just thrown me out the window. Why didn't you?"

The old man chuckled. "Would've been a boring fight. Gotta make it good for the audience."

The old man lost consciousness shortly after.

Rock suddenly heard a deep rumbling noise. The lights flickered as dust fell from the ceiling. Feeling a sense of dread, Rock ran up the stairs. He ran and ran until he found his teammate. Giallo was standing in front of a body, blood dripping from his fists. The body had hit the wall with enough force to form a crater. His body and the wall behind him were splattered with blood, and a closer look showed that half of the man's head was missing.

Rock stared at the scene of carnage slack jawed.

"Holy shit, dude. What happened?"

"I hit him," Giallo replied. "He wasn't much, only took one punch."