Ilia was no stranger to hidden warehouses, their pungent smells, or usual state of chaotic disorganization. Even so, she had never seen one in quite so much disarray as that of Aurora's Cradle. The workspace was massive, comparable to one of the hangars beneath Atlas Academy, and almost the entirety of the floor was discolored in odd splotches and occupied by something or other. Engines, chains, computer terminals, piles of dust crystals, tools, bits and pieces of stolen Atlesian tech of all sorts, and the occasional magazine were scattered about the space haphazardly. There was no rhyme or reason to the placement of the objects… or the covers of the magazines, for that matter. Ilia wasn't particularly surprised to see that there were a few issues of porn amongst the weapons catalogs and vehicle digests, but she still found it amusing.

Somehow, she had a feeling she already knew without asking which magazines belonged to Moss, and which belonged to the man she was looking for in order to make an introduction.

Said introduction was far more difficult than Ilia anticipated it to be- she had searched nearly the entirety of the makeshift machine shop before finding someone at all… and when she did, he was in a place she had already checked. The notion that her target was actively hiding from her did cross her mind, but she dismissed it rather quickly as bad luck and circumstance. After all, it would be rather unlikely and somewhat childish for anyone who had such an important position in Aurora's Cradle to be antisocial enough to try to hide from visitors.

Or at least, that's what Ilia thought.

As she made her second sweep around the warehouse, Ilia finally caught sight of a figure crouched next to a rather large, almost cube-shaped machine of some sort. The man was quite tall, even squatting, and was clearly a faunus… though unlike any other Ilia had seen before. Despite the near freezing temperatures of Solitas and the lack of heat in the warehouse save for a single thermal bar running the length of the building down the middle, the man was completely shirtless. In place of any sort of protective garment, his back, chest, and most of his arms were covered in a fine, almost glossy coat of brilliant white fur of a very different texture from the hair upon his head, though they shared coloration. Ilia couldn't quite place what animal had lent him such silky fur at a glance, but made a mental note to ask if they ever had some downtime together.

"…hey. Are you Shiv?"

The meticulously groomed man let out a sigh as though he had been tasked with something incredibly laborious as he rose to his full height. He stood just as tall as General Ironwood, though far leaner and less muscular. As he turned to face Ilia, she had to force herself not to react to his rather surprising countenance. The man had a narrow face and conventionally attractive features… save for the raised, jagged scar over his permanently closed left eye. Whatever had happened to him, the wound gave off the suggestion that it hadn't been surgical or pleasant, and it stood in stark contrast to the rest of his face. His remaining eye had an iris of piercing gold, and his snowy hair hung in slightly curved strands down to his neck to frame his face almost perfectly. If not for the fact that he was an outlaw and the scar, he could easily have made it as a model… especially with the practiced look of sheer contempt upon his face and haughty attitude the moment he began speaking.

"…if you're someone of import to our organization, you should be able to figure that out on your own," he began. "And if you're not, or you're someone that Alice sent my way as a joke simply to irritate me… then yes, I am he. What exactly do you want?"

"I'm Ilia Amitola, an… I guess escapee from Mantle, at this point," the girl replied. She considered offering Shiv a hand, but she could already tell that it wouldn't be taken, or might even be batted away. In either case, she didn't particularly want to deal with the look of disgust she expected Shiv to make if she made the attempt, and so, she didn't bother. "Alice did send me, indirectly. She wants my band of people to meet the major players of the Cradle, and your name has been dropped a few times."

"…you're Ilia Amitola from the White Fang, not Mantle," Shiv said matter-of-factly as he looked her over. "How… unpleasant."

"How do you…" Ilia began, only to decide rather quickly that not only did it no longer matter, but she definitely wouldn't be getting a straight answer. "…listen. My time with the Fang is over."

"Is it?" Shiv questioned with a slight tilt of his head, sounding rather bored as he turned back to the massive machine. "I was unaware that one could be 'over' the White Fang."

"Well, now you're aware," Ilia said with a bit more bite to her tone than she intended. Shiv had already managed to get under her skin… and the scar over his eye was an unpleasant reminder of an individual she tried not to think about anymore if at all possible. "Anyway. I can see that you're some kind of mechanic, or engineer, or whatever word you want to use for it that's grandiose enough for you. Moss mentioned that the two of you built the central pole powering the… illusion generator?"

Shiv spared a glance over his shoulder, and much to Ilia's surprise, wore a genuine smirk.

"…I can live with 'engineer,' I suppose. Moss says many things, but that, he's correct about. The device doesn't have a specific name, but you're correct on its function, at least. Do you need something built or modified? Otherwise, I see little reason for us to talk. I've got work to do, and you've got… whatever it is that you came here for to deal with. So long as you've been truthful thus far, I see no reason for us to find each other interesting beyond potential business. Out with it, or get out."

Ilia hiked a brow as Shiv picked up a tool she didn't recognize and began making adjustments to the object in front of himself. Try as she might, she couldn't figure out exactly what he meant… and that notion only served to frustrate her further.

"Not as of right now, no. I just… I think I'm now somehow the leader of the group that made it here, so it seemed like a good idea to make the rounds and get to know this place so I can help out and see what we have to work with. That's all."

The moment the words came out of Ilia's mouth, she realized what was about to happen, and she regretted ever saying them.

"You think you're the leader?"

"I am the leader," Ilia asserted, struggling to maintain her composure. "I just didn't expect to stumble into the role. That's what I meant. The others look to me for advice, and I make the calls, now."

"Congratulations," Shiv said without any enthusiasm as he remained focused upon his work.

"Thank you," Ilia nearly growled, folding her arms across her chest as her frustration steadily rose.

"Your offer to actually help, though… that does set you apart from most," Shiv pointed out. "So many simply want a free ride, be it through shelter, protection, or resources. Others who find refuge here simply want a tour of the pretty, complicated machines and an explanation of them that a grade-school student could understand. If you're not here to waste my time, then what skills can you offer?"

Ilia opened her mouth and almost opened with 'while I was in the White Fang,' but caught herself and closed it. With a steadying breath, she tried to shake off her annoyance with the man and settled for just giving him a nod of affirmation instead.

"…I'm good with tech. Computers, explosives, most weapons systems, really. If you're building something for defense, or… hopefully, offense as things heat up, I can lend a hand. You know what's going on, right? Salem? That whole situation?"

"I know, yes," Shiv confirmed as he twirled a wrench between his fingers. "I specialize in 'engineering,' apparently, as well as being responsible for acquiring and distributing information from and to those who need it."

"Well, that explains…" Ilia started, only to pivot. "…the mashup of parts down here. Most of this is Atlesian tech, but I don't recognize some of the rest of it. You must be some kind of networking broker, I guess?"

"…that's a way of putting it. I know the right people, and the right people know what I'm capable of. Few arms need to be twisted if you make it clear that doing so would be painful to the fearful," Shiv boasted.

"Seems like you're doing something right," Ilia praised, beginning to get a feel for how to butter up the other faunus. "That's a key role for a hidden location like this."

"It is," Shiv agreed as he moved over to a nearby terminal. "Nothing can get done if we are under threat of discovery."

Suddenly, a loud, sing-song call echoed through the warehouse from the far end, causing Shiv to sneer.

"Honey, I'm home!"

"Eugh," the faunus said as he continued typing furiously. "So much for being productive today. First you, now him…"

"You two don't get along?" Ilia asked with a smirk, filing the information away for later.

"We…" Shiv started before letting out a huff that caused his furry chest to rise and fall. "…he's a talented, committed worker and integral cog in the machine that is Aurora's Cradle. He's also a loud, perverted idiot that insists upon being as obnoxious as possible and making friends with everyone to the point of being a detriment to productivity. There's no need to bring guests who simply want to leer at things into the workshop."

"Ooooh," Ilia mocked while wiggling her fingers at Shiv. "Not friends. They're spooky."

Shiv rolled his remaining eye as Moss and Emerald came into view from behind a large, free-standing rack of jumbled machine parts. Moss offered a mischievous grin and spread his arms wide while approaching, and Ilia noticed a drastic shift in Shiv's attitude to a state of annoyance far beyond any he had shown previously.

"Hey Pumpkin."

"Do not call me that," the faunus seethed, refusing to make eye contact. He did, however, spare a glance to Ilia and then the unfamiliar thief trailing along behind his coworker. "They'll get the wrong idea. No, we are not entangled, romantically or physically. Who are you, and what are you doing here? Another of this one's group?"

"Emerald Sustrai," the huntress answered as she stopped next to Ilia. "And yeah, I'm with her. You must be Shiv."

"…Alice must have faith in this crowd, if they all know who I am," Shiv resigned as he maintained a laser focus on the screen before him. "That, or you're having trouble keeping your mouth shut as usual."

"Little of Column A, little of Column B," Moss admitted with a back and forth rocking motion of his natural hand. "Did you find th-"

"That amount of force would have been incredibly dangerous, and I have returned the drain on the electrical dust back to its original value," Shiv said icily as he finally looked over to Moss with a narrowed eye. "Were you just hoping I wouldn't notice before test firing? Do you think me an idiot, after all these years of constructing things like this together?"

"The first one," Moss answered. "Though sometimes…"

"What are you building, anyway?" Ilia asked. "Based on the vague description, I'm guessing some kind of dust-fueled railgun?"

"It has a dust-powered railgun," Shiv let on as he pressed the Enter key, resulting in a line of code compiling onscreen. "It's an autonomous combat system designed to mirror and surpass the piloted Atlesian Paladin. This is simply the core of the mech, not the whole thing."

"An autonomous super-Paladin standing that high?" Emerald asked, sounding wary. "For what? Defense of the Cradle? Does someone know you're here?"

"For a client," Moss answered as he moved to lean against the giant cube. "It was a commission job, and this is the first prototype."

"And that client is…?" Ilia asked, trying to lead them on. "World's gone to hell, and whoever you were building it for, it doesn't matter anymore. We need to use it to fight Salem and her forces. Spill."

Shiv and Moss exchanged a look, and the faunus was the first to speak.

"…if we're breaking confidentiality, it's going to be on you, not me."

"Pussy," Moss accused. "He said his name was Arthur Digna. The guy working event security for Robyn Hill's election campaign…"

Author's Note:

Next week- Vale.

-RD