Yo! Chapter 23!

I'm writing this as I wait for Act 2 of Arcane Season 2 to come out. It will do so in roughly an hour and a half. I am slightly excited. What a fantastic show. If you haven't watched it, do yourself a favor and check it out, I promise you'll enjoy it!

Start Chapter 23

Their landing is, in Jaune's eyes, suboptimal.

The smoke that's still rising from the wreckage of the bullhead they'd taken to get to Solitas – which is where they are right now, in the middle of a cold, snowy field of nothing – is likely to draw some kind of rescue party in. Their job is to not be there when that happens.

The real problem is that Jaune has been paired up with the man who is quickly becoming his least favorite person in all the world.

"So," Tyrian giggles as he walks just ahead of Jaune, then behind, then ahead again, constantly undulating. "This child we've been sent to fetch, you certainly seemed oddly bothered about it when you saw her."

Leave it to Tyrian to notice something that even Salem herself hadn't. Luckily, on that front, he at least has an excuse.

"Forgive me for not wanting to kidnap a child." He glares at Tyrian out of the corner of his eye. "I'm not quite as morally bankrupt as the rest of you seem to be."

Tyrian cackles at that, as if the fact that Jaune has gotten on him for his lack of morals is a hilarious thing. He laughs hard enough that he falls to his knees, and then into the snow below them, holding his stomach like the laughing is painful.

Jaune thinks that Tyrian must've been scientifically created in a lab somewhere to piss him off.

It's certainly working.

"Get up," He growls out, hauling Tyrian to his feet.

"Ah, ah, ah," Tyrian smirks. "Careful, Rusted Knight, you wouldn't want to upset me, would you? I could always tell my mistress that you're being unruly. I imagine she'd believe me over you, and punish your little… student appropriately."

So that's Tyrian's play, then? To be such an annoying asshole that Jaune messes up, and gets Cinder hurt? It fits with what he knows about the man, in all fairness.

Still, Jaune's been curious about something for a while now. He decides to just ask.

"You keep calling me that."

"Hm?"

"The Rusted Knight."

"Well, of course! Have you not seen your armor? It matches rather perfectly to the description of the Rusted Knight from 'The Girl Who Fell Through the World'. You're just missing the helmet to complete the look!"

"I'm surprised you've read it."

"Oh, I did a long time ago." Tyrian speaks, with his lips curled up. "When I was still me, truly."

"What happened?"

"Hm?"

"To make you… not you."

"Oh, well," Tyrian chuckles. "Perhaps I'll tell you later. For right now, you said yourself we have ground to cover, no?"

Jaune grunts out in acknowledgement, and the two of them do just that.

The problem, really, comes in when a bullhead passes over them. That's to be expected; they'd thought the smoke from their crashed bullhead would draw attention. But they'd not thought that the people in said bullhead would spot the two of them in their white coats, with white hoods, very much looking to not be seen.

Instead, the bullhead touches down fifty meters or so in front of them after doing a few circles overhead, and a few people get out of it.

Instantly, Tyrian is itching for a fight. Itching to just kill these people and be done with it.

Jaune isn't willing to allow that. These are good people; they'd stopped to help those in trouble, he's not going to let them be massacred for it.

"Hey, there!" One of the them calls out to Jaune and Tyrian. "You fellas alright!?"

"We'll manage," Jaune calls back, gesturing for Tyrian to stand down. The man sighs, as if not killing people pains him, but lets Jaune take the lead. "Controls suddenly dipped out on us midflight. We were trying to make it out to a settlement for a job in East Solitas."

"Ah, I getcha," The man approaching takes their appearances in. "What's with the arctic camo?"

"We were hired to track down a voracious killer out in the wilds just west of Oaresberg," Tyrian suddenly interjects, and Jaune's a bit unnerved at how… normal he can make himself sound when he wants to. The crazed tone is gone, and his speaking cadence itself is completely different. "Some bastard who'd been preying upon people in the dead of night. We were going to set up outside Oaresberg, and try to catch the culprit there."

"Really?" One of the men standing there grimaces. "I hadn't heard there was a villain like that near there; I've got family in Oaresberg."

"Only two victims so far. Both older men. Homeless, from what we hear."

Tyrian's making up a story on the spot, but Jaune's actually fairly impressed. It's a hard story to fact check, given that jobs like this are, traditionally, not communicated to the public, and instead told in confidence only to Hunters setting out to solve the problems themselves. A hardened killer taking people out in the middle of the night could breed panic, and panic is a dangerous thing to have building in a frontier town on Remnant, what with the Grimm a constant threat.

Jaune had already set them up as Huntsman, and Tyrian had played along. Added onto that that as much as Jaune wishes it hadn't been the case, the homeless are often left out in both the literal and proverbial cold, and no one takes particularly good care of keeping track of them.

Tyrian's story, as false as it is, would be hard to find fault with.

At least this explains how he'd managed to sneak his way into Mantle back when they'd been holding that event for Robyn Hill.

He can, when he wants, put on the air of someone with sanity.

"Oh, that's good," The man sighs in relief. "Not that they're dead, to be clear, but that it wasn't either of my cousins."

"I understand." Tyrian sighs, shaking his head. "Unfortunately, I doubt we're going to be getting anywhere at all now. Our supplies went up with our bullhead. If I didn't know any better, I'd think someone had it out for us," Tyrian flashes his Faunus tail, before raising an eyebrow at the man who's come to pick them up, also a faunus. "Whatever reason could there be for that, I wonder?"

The other man hisses out in anger. "Those goddamned bastards in Atlas… they've always hated us, but they didn't used to be so obvious about it!"

Yet again, Tyrian has invented a story. And again, it's something that'll be difficult to actually test. After all, he's using the recent reports of higher faunus racism in Atlas as a piece of their cover story, but he's smart enough to do so to a faunus himself. But the officers of Atlas, even though the story is a fabrication, would deny such a tale even if it hadn't been. Thusly, there's no fact checking against what Tyrian is saying. The captain of the other bullhead now seems completely on their side, if he hadn't been before.

It's genius, as much as it's terrifying to know that Tyrian is this intelligent when he's got his mind set on something.

"Come on, we'll give you a lift back to Mantle. Least I can do."

"Uh, captain," One of the other men brings up sheepishly. "I don't mean to be rude, but… shouldn't we at least check 'em for ID at least?"

Jaune senses the smallest, most insignificant shift in Tyrian's body language. It's something that the others aren't privy to, but Jaune can tell.

Tyrian's going to kill them if Jaune doesn't prevent that from happening.

"That's fine," Jaune gets in the middle before anything can start. "My friend here's not licensed, but you can see mine."

He brings out his scroll – it's a model far too new to exist, but then, he's ostensibly a Huntsman from Atlas, so who would question them having the latest tech? – and pulls up his ID. There's no date on it, and so it still serves as confirmation that he is, in fact, a Huntsman.

And of Atlas, as well.

The captain smiles and nods at seeing it, before looking back at the man who'd questioned their validity. "That good enough for ya', Thomas?"

"Aye, sir," The younger man nods. "I wasn't tryin' to be rude or nothin', just–"

"You were just being careful." Jaune smiles. "We understand. And we appreciate you giving us a ride like this."

"Alright, come on board, you two. We don't have clearance to fly into Atlas, but we'll take you back to Mantle, and you guys can make your way up from there."

"Appreciate it, sir."

"Nah, least I can do for a couple of Huntsman out to keep people like us safe." The captain smiles back at them as they climb into the bullhead, and take seats near the back.

Jaune is sat next to Tyrian.

It's as unsurprising as it is unfortunate.

And yet, as the bullhead takes off, and they lift into the air, Jaune has a feeling that the sickness coursing through him isn't quite so much from travelling through the air.

/

Ruby's still sort of reeling by the time she gets back to her team's dorm room.

She'd found Yang.

She'd just… walked up to Ruby's door, alongside her mom, and Raven. They'd all seemed on good terms with one another, which had surprised Ruby a bit, but everything else had sort of gone out the window once she'd found Yang.

Obviously, she'd not been going by her real name, and she'd been lying pretty heavily while Ruby had been being interviewed by her mom. Gods, but it had hurt to have to lie to her, of all people. There are few people in the world that Ruby trusts explicitly, but Summer is most certainly one of them.

And yet she can't show that trust. Not really.

Because they're… well, in a way, they are wrong.

Their existences are wrong. The fact that they are here, present in this time, is wrong.

Wherever – or whenever – the heck 'this time' even is.

She's lost in her head when someone in her room calls out to her, and it takes her until the third call of "Ruby!" to turn her head, and see that Amber's been trying to get her attention.

"Bwuh?"

Excellent start, Ruby, excellent start.

"What was happening just now?" Amber asks. "Roman said that you got called away by Ozpin. I was in the bathroom."

"Oh." Ruby scratches at the back of her neck. "Uh… I… got vetted by some people Ozpin brought along, I think?"

"You think?"

"Okay, I got vetted by some people Ozpin brought."

Amber seems rather intrigued about that. "And you're still here."

"Yep." It takes her a second to realize what Amber had really been saying. "I told you; I'm not trying to hurt anybody."

"I…" Amber looks away, seeming caught. "I did believe you. It's just…"

"You don't have to apologize for being smart, Amber. Trusting me completely wouldn't have been all that good an idea."

Amber seems to agree, but not in a way where she doesn't still feel bad about it. Ruby moves to cheer her up, stepping close to her and opening her arms.

Amber rolls her eyes, but closes the distance between them and meets Ruby in the center for a hug.

It's that scene that Roman, seemingly having just finished taking a shower, exits out of the bathroom to see.

"So, uh, does someone wanna' fill me in on what's going on here, or?"

Ruby giggles. "It's nothing, really."

"Both myself and Ruby are objects of interest for the upper staff of Beacon Academy, to put it simply." Amber says, and Ruby's surprised Amber's even saying that much. "For that reason, Ozpin has had people keeping an eye on us especially."

"Oh, so that's why you just call him by his name?"

"I… yes. It is."

"Huh, neat."

That, it seems, is that.

"So, uh…" Roman scratches at his neck. "We're like… trapped in this building for another few days, right?"

"Until the end of the week, yes." Amber sighs. "Hawthorne's keeping us quarantined for some reason. You'd assume it's because we're unknowns that have training with weapons and the skill to use them, but then, Ozpin's reasoning should overwrite that; we're all Hunter's in training at Beacon. We're not going to go on a killing spree."

"I think he probably wants the extra time to go over the files of everyone who's arrived." Ruby says, and there are no real points to guessing who he might be vetting in particular.

"You mean he's checking the files of all the faunus students, right?"

Ruby nods her head, suddenly glad something like this hadn't been around when she'd been going through her first year with Blake. She'd have likely been pulled out of her room in the dead of night, and locked away, never to see any of them again.

"Yeah. If I had to guess, he's trying to see if any of them are connected with faunus rights organizations. Things like that."

Roman's eyes widen. "I hadn't even realized those existed."

Oh. They might not yet at this point. Ruby hadn't really considered the fact that the violent White Fang had been a relatively new phenomenon even as recently as their time in Atlas. If Blake as a child had been able to participate in protests from before they'd become aggressive…

Then yes, where they're at right now likely does predate the violent White Fang.

Time will tell whether or not they'll do even worse, now, in a world – or an Atlas, Ruby should perhaps say – that seems like it might treat them far more harshly.

"I've heard that there's an organization based in Menagerie that fights for Faunus Rights." Amber brings up. "The White… something. Fang, maybe? Anyways, they're a small activist group. Not many members. I think they might be coming here for the festival. At least, I heard a few guards talking about a protest scheduled for later this week."

"Are we going to be free by then?" Ruby asks, wanting to help out if she can.

"I don't think." Amber sighs. "And now that I think about it, that does sound like an awfully good reason to keep all other Kingdom's students under lock and key. Keep them under control during the protest, and prevent them from going down and showing support. Make it so that no one with training might be down there to physically stop the abuses that some might hurl at them."

Roman seems surprised at that. "Abuses? What do you mean?"

"I mean that the protestors aren't likely to be treated very kindly." Amber sighs. "Atlas was chief among the Kingdoms fighting against faunus rights during the initial revolution, providing the bulk of the manpower. They also continue to employ faunus in lower-paying positions than humans, and abuse those workers. I'm not saying that all of the people of Atlas are like that, to be clear. I'd imagine it's less than thirty percent of people that are seriously racist. But that's a much higher chunk of the population than you'd find anywhere else in the world. Thinking of things purely in terms of numbers, it's not so hard to picture a few people throwing rocks, perhaps, at the protestors, or even worse. There was an incident just after the faunus rights revolution where a former soldier from in the Atlesian corps shot and killed thirteen faunus factory workers."

It isn't a story that Ruby's ever heard, and that fact scares her. "Was this not well reported?"

Amber actually laughs. It is not a kind sound. "Of course, it wasn't. It was an SDC factory, and if you know anything about the SDC…"

"They wouldn't let reports of that kind of thing get out." Ruby mutters sadly.

"It was pretty widely reported in Menagerie, and you can find articles written about it from newspapers in faunus circles," Amber explains, "But those are hard to find outside of specially ordering them. Anyone who didn't specifically want to know didn't have the chance to learn about it."

"And a lot of people prefer keeping their heads buried in the sand to knowing the facts, regardless. Damn." Roman leans back against the wall behind him, running a hand down his face. "Shit's heavy."

"It very much is." Amber sighs. "The unfortunate truth of the matter as well is that people in Atlas genuinely are, for the most part, well meaning. But they're being propagandized against the faunus every day without even knowing it in the news cycle, which does everything it can to demonize efforts to play for further faunus rights for the sake of SDC profits. After all, the faunus totally have everything they could ever want, what with their subpar working conditions in Atlas, and an island that is eighty-percent desert to go back to if they don't like them."

Ruby has known, of course, that Amber is a rather pessimistic person simply from being on a team with her for the last eight or so months, but…

"You… seem oddly affected by this stuff."

She sighs. "My grandfather was a faunus. Or, well, the man my grandmother remarried. I learned all about these things because my mother was raised in a household that actually cared. So yes, I am, for a human, oddly affected by this stuff." Amber shrugs. "Frankly, I think everyone else should be a bit more affected by it, but hey, who am I to know anything at all?"

Ruby gets the feeling this isn't the first time Amber's tried to tell people this. And that the previous people she'd told probably either hadn't believed her, or had pretended to care without actually doing anything about it.

Which…

Does give Ruby an idea.

"Well… would you want to go to that rally?"

Amber shrugs. "I would, but we're trapped here, aren't we?"

"Well… How about we sneak out?"

"Huh?"

"You want to go, right?"

"Yes, but–" She grimaces. "That's against Hawthorne's policy."

"Ah, Hawthorne, schmawthorne." Ruby waves a hand in indication of how much she cares about the man; which is not at all. "We'll get out, attend the rally, and be back before anyone notices a thing."

"Uh, not to be a party pooper," Roman brings up, "can't we get kicked out of the tournament for this?"

Oh. Yeah.

They probably could.

And even if Ruby has found Yang, there's still Weiss, Blake, and Jaune to find. Being on TV would be a great way of doing that. She doesn't really want to give that up.

But this is important to Amber. And frankly, knowing the crap that the faunus went through way back when, Ruby wants to be there too!

So…

"Eh, we won't get caught." She gives the same dismissive gesture she'd used for Hawthorne. "Like I said, in and out, super easy."

"You seem awfully confident in that." Roman raises an eyebrow.

Of course, Ruby's confident. After all, she has so many successes in this field. Like when they'd gone to the docks… and blown them up. Or when they'd gone to that White Fang rally… and caused an incident that had cost millions in lien in damages to Vale's highway system. Or when they'd gone after the White Fang in Mountain Glenn… and gotten the tar kicked out of them and nearly let Vale get invaded.

…That's really not even all of them, is it?

Huh.

Maybe Ruby should be less confident?

…

…Nah!

It'll be fine! Seventh – or eighth, she's not counting – time's the charm!

/

It's the dead of night when Blake snaps awake, her eyes instantly scanning her surroundings to get an idea of the scenario she's in.

She's in unfamiliar territory, what with her and the other 15 or so faunus that had come with them all shacking up together in a rundown hotel in the slums of Mantle. It's owned by a corroborator of the White Fang, or, if not that, then whatever it is the organization that will one day be called the White Fang is called now. He'd graciously loaned them a few rooms to stay in for the next few days, before and after the rally.

And yet, Blake doesn't focus on the stains on the ceiling above her, or the cockroaches that can she can see skittering along the wall to her left.

No, she focuses in on the sound of activity below her.

It's not entirely odd for a hotel of all places to see business well into the night. Hell, it shouldn't even be anything to worthy of note.

But then, Blake considers herself to be a rather paranoid person. Or at least, that's what she tells herself as she pushes herself out of bed, and rises to her feet.

In all actuality, she simply has a bad feeling.

She grabs Gambol Shroud from off of the dresser beside her, as well as her fashioned mask from out of the drawer, and dons both. Then, she pushes her way out into the hallway.

Her footsteps are silent; trained to be that way from years and years in the White Fang. She presses her ear to the wall beside her, seeing if she might be able to pick up on any voices coming from below.

She doesn't hear anything expressly, which is also odd. If someone had entered into the hotel to check in, they would be talking with a receptionist. Or, well, in this case, they'd be talking to the owner, given that this place, like most faunus-run businesses on Solitas, is far too poor to actually have any employees.

She can still hear movement below. Is it impossible that a customer had simply come in and was now looking around for someone to serve them? No.

Is it unlikely? Moreso than some form of foul play?

In Blake's eyes, yes, it is.

She creeps down the stairs, taking them slowly, refusing to make a sound. If this is what she thinks it is, then she can't afford to screw up. There's the smallest whisper, then, before Blake hears the sound of a liquid being poured out onto the ground.

For her, that's enough.

Where she'd been going slowly before, she breaks into a sprint now. The people below it will hear her, but not quickly enough to do anything about it if she's right.

She hears them hurriedly whisper something about a half second before she rounds the final corner, and Blake begins to take in the scene before her.

There are four men, all wearing ski masks, holding containers of a vague fluid. Judging by the fact that they're pouring it all over the floor of the hotel, Blake has a feeling she knows exactly what it is.

Something flammable.

She is moving a moment later.

Whoever it is these people are, they're not trained. Barely fifteen seconds have passed by the time Blake has taken out all four of them. Three of them she's knocked unconscious, but the unlucky fourth is still awake.

"Where's the owner?" Blake questions first, because she's yet to see the man so far.

"W-We knocked him out, he's in the supply closet!" The man grunts out in pain as Blake bends his arm a touch too far.

"Alright. Who hired you?"

"W-What the fuck are you talking about!?"

"I'm asking who hired you to burn this place down." Blake doesn't mince words. She's not feeling particularly merciful at the moment, given that her parents, and both of her students are sleeping without a care in the world in their rooms above her. If she'd not woken up, all of them could have very well been killed in such an attack. "You'll answer me."

"No one hired us! We're just… just doin' this shit f-for kicks, y'know, just for–

Blake slams the man's face down into the gasoline-covered tile more than hard enough to shatter his nose.

She has a feeling she doesn't need to repeat herself.

"W-We don't know!" He spits blood out of his mouth onto the floor, panting out in fear. "Some suits came down and gave us the job, but we don't know nothin' more than that, alright!?"

Now that Blake doesn't doubt. Anyone looking to hire someone to essentially commit mass murder would be an idiot to give either a name or a face to the people they'd hired. Likely, they'd gotten nothing more than a payment, and a threat that if they didn't do what they'd been paid to do, they'd be the ones suffering from it.

But forgive Blake if she's not exactly feeling sorry for the bastards.

It's easy, in moments like these, to understand exactly how Adam had ended up as he had. Blake can't deny that the temptation exists for her to bash this man's face in a little more, or perhaps to bend his arm just slightly further. She can't deny that this world doesn't feel like it has it out for them.

But she's supposed to be better than that. She'd promised herself she would be when she'd run away from the White Fang in the first place.

So, she sighs wearily, before chopping the side of her palm against the back of the man's neck, and knocking him out cold.

She stands, and makes her way over to the supply closet.

She finds the owner of the hotel beaten, and battered, but alive. He's conscious, but with duct tape covering his mouth.

"This may hurt." She tells him curtly, and before he can wonder what she means, she's ripped it off his lips.

"Gah!" He flinches. "Warn a guy, would'ya!?"

"It would've been worse if I'd told you to brace yourself." She puts the duct tape away, just in case it has fingerprints of any collaborators on it. She'll be bringing these people to the police, as much good as that will likely do. "What happened?"

"If you mean with them, I don't even know. Only one guy came in at first. Thought he was just a customer, y'know? But he walked up to the desk, asked me if the 'item on the ground' was mine, and when I went to check, he batted me over the head. I feel like a bit of an idiot now, falling for that."

It's not the man's fault that he'd had faith in another person to not beat him over the head with a blunt object. Unfortunately, he'll likely carry the trauma of what's happened tonight for the rest of his life.

"Nothing else about them? No names?"

"Nah, I was out. Didn't wake up til I heard 'em screamin', I guess that was you?"

"It was. Did you tell anyone that we were staying here? Anyone at all?"

"No, no. Course not. I ain't stupid." The owner groans. "I mean, you always hear it's getting worse, but to have something like this happen? Man, fuck. What is Mantle comin' to these days?"

Blake doesn't quite know either.

And that scares her.

Still, if he'd not told anyone, and the men who'd tried to burn this hotel down had been hired by 'suits', then…

Blake can't quite be sure who it is that's hired these people…

But she thinks she has a pretty good guess.

End Chapter 23

Alright, that was Chapter 23! Things are heating up here in Atlas. Well, actually, they've stayed the same temperature, but they were threatening to heat up quite a bit there for a moment.

Anyhow, I actually had a question for you guys this week; Would you want to see a Discord Server for this story? I had a few requests for such on both FF and AO3, so I thought I'd gauge to see whether or not there's any interest in that. Leave a review or comment about that if you care!

That's all from me! See you all next week!

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