A/N: Man, I suck at fight scenes, but I suppose I'll keep improving on it. So, we've reached the beginning of Volume 3, and we all know where this is going right? Probably not actually, since the dragon is gone, Cinder's plan might have to adapt a bit.

Here's another chapter, enjoy.

Oh, how painful it was... Ozpin's headache, that is. The contents of his mug did not ease his suffering at all, and the ever-spinning cog wheels atop the table of his office, the sunlight reflecting off his desk into his face, and the ever-increasing paperwork that mounted neatly into a pile near his table, only accentuated the pain.

It's been less than a week, nay! Less than 24 hours and the general of Atlas' Military, has been already busy pestering him about the event that transpired at Kyleneath's Restaurant. Endless requests and emails filled his inbox. All of them, are related to the Bloodfiend. All of them were sent by the General.

Each of them told the tale of a different worry the General had.

"Is he a Vampire?"

"Can he be trusted?"

"Is he involved with the recent White Fang incidents?"

"Is he related to her?"

"Is he manipulating us?"

"Does he feed off human blood?"

"Is he guilty of any crime?"

"Is he a threat to the upcoming Vytal Festival?"

"Does he take damage from sunlight?"

"Can he turn anyone into a Vampire?"

"Why did he know Bemaia?"

"Is he from another world?"

"Should someone like him be allowed inside Vale's borders?"

"How will the council respond to his presence?"

Just to name a few...

Though, the most predominant question of all was; "Why not deal with him now?" Ozpin sighed at the deplorable state of his ally. "You must have taken the whole ordeal as a threat." Not without cause, since yesterday's encounter, though enjoyable, only served as a warning to Ozpin's inner circle. The headmaster did not want to go further into this matter, but ignoring Ironwood's pleas for action would return to bite him one day.

So he applied the easiest solution.

He pulled out his scroll from one of the drawers, "Let's see..." He fidgets with the device for a few moments. "G... H... I..." He slowly swiped up, careful not to miss his target. "K... Only one contact starting with K, huh..." An oddity to be sure, especially for someone as influential and important as him. But he paid no mind to it and dialed the number. After a few seconds of nothing but dial-up sounds, Ozpin quickly opened a recording software on his desktop machine.

Suddenly, a response came through! "This is Kyleneath. Whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?" Ozpin took a deep breath and spoke. "Good morning Chef, this is Ozpin. How has your morning been?"

"Oh, it's been just perfect! I've hired a janitor, Pearl is her name, and well, with her helping around made me feel as though I've been standing my whole life and only now did I sit down... Why isn't anyone doing this?" Ozpin blinked. "Hiring a janitor?"

"Yes! Everything is so much easier now. She cleans the plates, the pots, the silverware, the floor, the windows, the tables, everything! You should try it sometime." Now this was quite humorous. Was this the man Ironwood feared? "Everyone's been doing it, Kyleneath, It's called outsourcing." Kyneath was silent for a moment but soon responded. "I see. Better late than never. Now, how can I help you, headmaster? Is it about the stir yesterday? If so, I apologize."

"Oh no, no need for that. Yesterday was amazing, though that is part of the reason why I called."

"Hmph... What is it then?"

"Before we begin, I will be recording this conversation. Do you allow it?"

"I don't see why not. Sure, I allow."

"Right," Ozpin said, strengthening his posture and starting the program he readied beforehand. "I will ask you a series of questions about yourself. Please, answer them truthfully." Kyleneath snickered for a moment. "All you wanted was an interview? Let's do it then." The headmaster made sure to write down every question and every answer on a personal notebook he kept under his desk, ready to begin. "What is a Bloodfiend?"

Without skipping a beat, Kyleneath answered. "In truth, the origin of my people is a mystery even for me, though the word 'Vampire' describes us fairly."

"So you are a Vampire, from the books of fiction?"

"Even if the term is somewhat pejorative and offensive, I do not mind it. However, there are some key differences in the behaviors of the common Vampire and the average Bloodfiend. For instance, a Vampire would burn under the sunlight. I have no such weaknesses."

"So a Vampire with no obvious downsides?"

"While the appetite for human blood exists, I satiate myself with Blood donations from some of the more... excentric, costumers. As an extra payment for the horrendous orders some of them ask for."

"Did you find a loophole in the laws for you to be able to demand blood as payment?"

"Not at all. These very same customers are usually dealing with illegal deeds anyways."

"And you do know that I am recording this, correct?"

"Yes. I simply do not feel to need to lie to your face."

"Very well." Ozpin was quick to write it all down. Kyleneath was taking blood as payment for his food. Absolutely illegal. Though, Ozpin wondered if he should even pass that information down to the police or Ironwood. His mind kept returning to that night when he saw Kyleneath effortlessly lifting Bemaia from the ground and handling him like a child. To put into perspective, Ozpin had camera records of Bemaia massacring the White Fang with relative ease. And to make things worst, his student even said that the only way he was even able to defeat this Bloodfiend was through the use of an army of... What was it? Associate Fixers? The same level as him perhaps.

"Hello? Ozpin?" Kyleneath spoke, snapping the Headmaster back to the matter at hand. "I believe that you have some issues regarding Bemaia. Why is that?"

"He didn't tell you?"

"The relationship between me and his team is strictly business, and he wants to keep it that way."

"I see. Then I suppose there is no harm in talking about it, though take what I say with a grain of salt, this is my side of the story after all." Fair enough, Ozpin thought. "I used to run an Urban Nightmare Syndicate, and he was a Fixer tasked with dealing with it. While we did know each other from previous encounters such as my daughter's rejected desires to join his office, and a small competition between us in the presence of the City's best chefs, he never held a singular spec of contempt towards me and my family, even though my downfall was brought by his hands."

"I heard of the event. An army against you, was it?"

"Indeed. Though it was a close call, in the end, I was defeated. And since we Bloodfiends can't truly die, I lived to reach where I am today." Can't truly die? Where did Ozpin hear that one? Perhaps from his whole existence? This was truly terrible. One immortal he could barely deal with, now two? He had to keep calm, any wrong step and he now had a whole new problem to deal with. "He mentioned that the army consisted of Fixers. Is there truth to the statement?"

"Partially. An army consisting of Third Grade fixers, the 4th Section of the Liu Association's eastern branch, and the 5th Section of the Shi. The associations were there as support, and most of the muscle work came from the many third-grade fixer offices. His was at the forefront. About one hundred men and women fought there. There were eighty-five casualties and the rest were injured. My restaurant was destroyed, alongside my daughter who was caught in the crossfire."

Intriguing. Where is the 'Bloodfiends can't truly die' bit? Perhaps his daughter wasn't one of them? "I would offer my condolences, but I'm afraid you don't need them." There was no response. Ozpin didn't know how they feel. The loss of a daughter is something he understood all too well, but it doesn't justify the death of eighty-five people he didn't even know. But what was most concerning, was the fact he did not know how strong were each individual fixer during that massacre. That was a question he would have to ask Team PBFF. "I'll get off your back, just one last question; What are your intentions?"

"I am hurt, Headmaster. Just because you learned my past you now treat me as a potential enemy? Well, I suppose that's fair." The headmaster waited calmly for the answer. "While we competed against each other, Bemaia and I reached the conclusion, that we could not even be from the same universe. The accident that got me in this land, caught a lot more people, and yet, when I arrived, not a single person that suffered with me was present. That meant that there are a lot of dimensions, be they similar or completely different from mine or yours, I just so happened to land on this one. With that in mind, the Bemaia you have, might not even be the same Bemaia I fought, so it would be unfair to take that chance, though he seemed to know everything I spoke and even knew me personally. Now, all I want is to rest. To prosper without my past to hold me back."

Ozpin was satisfied for now. Though he needed to do some editing before sending the audio to Ironwood, that last part really ought to give him at least a moment to breathe. "That would be all Kyleneath, thank you for your time."

That was taken care of. But his duties were far, far from over.

Gazing at the digital clock on his desk, Ozpin sighed. '8:12 am' it read. "What's next?" The headmaster muttered to himself, scrolling through a sea of documents on his desktop computer.

Vytal festival logistics? Not his problem.

Trade routes compromised due to recent White Fang activity? SDC's problem.

Who was that mysterious figure that invaded the CCT Tower? Vale Police Department problem.

Rampant Dust Thievery cases? Already dealt with, Roman Torchwick is now in Ironwood's captivity and waiting for trial.

'The Queen has Pawns, I'll get more intel?' Not his-

Wait a second.

"Hmm." Ozpin paused for a moment, internalizing the message he'd just received. This was Qrow's message, a close associate of his, which meant one thing. "She's up to something..." Just at the start of the Vytal Festival too.

The safer alternative would be to cancel the whole event and see how things go from there, but that was also the most unreal alternative considering that the council of Vale would never cancel such an important event, especially with the recent loss of the White Fang and the capture of Torchwick. But the problem was that Ozpin simply didn't have any information about said pawns. Was the pawn a weapon? Was the pawn political information? Was the pawn an infiltrated agent? He didn't know, but he had faith in Qrow. 'Return to nest with wisdom.' Ozpin responded, stretching his arms. At the very least he should at least warn his inner circle about the message.

Now, where was he? Ah yes, his responsibilities.

At Team PBFF's dorm, things had been brewing up to be an uneventful evening.

Francisco hadn't been to a singular class, aside from Goodwitch's combat class, ever since he became a student at Beacon and was currently designing a weapon for his partner. Fred frowned at his partner who'd been scribbling on a piece of paper for the better part of an hour with little to no progress.

Bemaia and Penny were gone, probably trying to get themselves busy as the semester came to an end.

The reason for Francisco's struggle, however, was Fred's inability to pick a weapon. First, he wanted a scythe, since he used a scythe while working for L-Corp, unfortunetly his skills with it wouldn't translate considering that the EGO gave him those skills in the first place. A rapier? He never held one even once in his life, and though it was considered, the idea was quickly scrapped.

Currently, Francisco was quietly staring at a blank paper, his head empty for a long time now. The silence was broken when Fred spoke of his latest idea. "How about... Wires?" The bald librarian raised his eyebrow, unsure of what to make of this request. "So you don't know how to use a rapier but you want to use wires? Do you have even the slightest idea how dexterous you gotta be to use something like that effectively?"

Fred bobbed his head up and down, "Yep. My parents told me that the wing would one day fall and that I needed to be able to protect myself whenever that happened." Francisco stared at him blankly. "So... My father contracted a fixer to teach me to fight! Even though I had close to no augments, that fixer taught me to use those stigma titanium-enhanced razor-sharp wires that came out of a glove!"

Francisco frowned as struggled to even think about something that would be remotely close to a wired glove. "Right..." The request was not at all impossible, just extremely difficult to make by hand. "How did that work? The glove."

Fred put a finger against his chin and tilted his head to the right as he tried his best to remember. "Well... The glove had a sleek black leathery design so I didn't know how it worked... But the wires would come out of the end of each finger-well not the tip, but more like the nails... So five wires per hand. I controlled the wires' length with finger movements."

It was at least something that Francisco could try to work with... "Right... But is that the only thing you know how to use as a weapon?" Fred nodded his head. "Yes." Francisco momentarily lamented that he wouldn't forge a more standardized weapon for his partner, but his choice was his choice.

"There is almost nothing I can do to help you, I'm afraid." Fred blinked once. "What?" Francisco solemnly nodded his head. "See, Beacon has this big machine that forges whatever you put on it. It's really disappointing, but I must admit that it pretty much outclasses me in a few areas. Now that I don't gave my left arm It outclasses me in every area." Francisco looked down at the piece of paper. "I will, however, make a drawing with whatever dimensions and numbers you're gonna need... But It would be sub-optimal for me to forge it by hand." He spoke, frustrated with his disability.

Wordlessly, he began with his drawings. Starting from the beginning, The glove itself was the easy part. Eyeing the hands of his partner, Francisco could measure it perfectly without any assisting tools. "Smaller..." He muttered, examining Fred's hands. "There isn't much of a point in improving the base design of a glove, so I'll just have the glove be an actual glove and not some other thing." Fred nodded, and the bones of his weapon began to show. Next was the mechanical parts of the glove. How would it work? Well, Francisco struggled to come up with something for it. "Wires..." He muttered. 'Can't use motors, can't use hydraulics... Gravity? Too unreliable since you wouldn't be able to get the wires out with the hands up... Triggers, locks, and springs?' Indeed, why think of something complicated when the basics are more than capable of doing the job perfectly?

"Aight, so, the wire will be shot outwards with a spring system that will use small triggers inside the glove, you'll be able to use activate them with hand motions that I'm sure you'll figure out eventually." Now all that's left is the wiring... "I can't fit five, five meters of Wire inside a glove, so I'll add a small pouch where the wires gonna be stored. You decide how big and where you'll put the wire pouch."

Fred was left speechless by how fast and precisely his partner made the blueprints, not once did he ask a question about the weapon's functionality. "I'll add an Universal Dust whatever, because you only gain by adding it." With a minute of finishing touches, Francisco was done with the blueprint, though was not the tiniest bit pleased. "Here are the plans for the glove," He said, handing over the paper to Fred. "You'll notice that there's no material attached to it, that's because you'll choose whatever you'll want for it. Since no materials are the same, be aware of what you chose. Want plastic wires? Sure, go ahead and shit on top of your own weapon. And, I won't know what effects the dust might have on the wires, so go and test them out and tell me if you blow yourself up."

Fred, though a little skeptical, appreciated the work Francisco gave him. In truth, Fred knew that the reason that his partner hadn't put any materials was because he didn't know how to write their names. Oddly enough, the numbers were on-point with clockwork-like precision. "Go to the workshop and follow the instructions written on the machine," Francisco spoke, defeated, as he got up from the singular chair in the dorm and left. "I'm sure you'll figure it out on your own. I'm going for a walk." Fred paid no mind to Francisco's internal struggle and began researching in his scroll the ideal materials before heading for the workshop.

Beacon was strangely quiet for an average noon, but that didn't bother Francisco not in the tiniest bit. Fall was upon Vale, and with it, the vegetation that was once colored with vibrant green, now began to turn orange, ever so slowly. The wind blew away the dead leaves from the trees, scattering them randomly through Academy grounds. Aimlessly walking through the academy grounds, the librarian reminisced about his current life.

Was this what he wanted? Stuck in a different world with no way or want to get back 'home'. Three known faces, and currently avoided by those he once tried to befriend. He's been lower in life, but it didn't mean he needed to like it. Francisco himself didn't believe Beacon served much of a purpose. I mean, just arm a few guys, give them money, and get rid of the Grimm threatening your property, how hard can that be? Heroes? That is for children without responsibilities. For him, he was still in Beacon only because of the debt he had with Ozpin. Don't get him wrong, Ozpin was probably the best boss he's ever had, but the idea that the headmaster wanted to make heroes? Now that was something Francisco couldn't stand. How can one call themselves a hero? The only one Francisco knew that was considered a hero by many was Kali, someone he was lucky to even meet, let alone fight with and against her. And even then, Kali was a very flawed individual with her own issues that wouldn't befit Remnant's heroes. 'Does a hero earn the title of Red Mist by leaving but a mist of blood in the place of her enemies? Sounds a bit un-hero-like to me.' He thought.

Truth is, a hero is the one who will stand against what the masses are too afraid to stand against. And even then, a few years passes and suddenly the one whom everyone considered to be a hero now became a 'villain' or whatever that was supposed to mean as well. Team RWBY's desires to become a hero, their ideals of what a hero should be, a white knight pure of heart, were flawed in Francisco's eyes. Does such a white knight even exist? Humans aren't like that at all, and he's seen it first-handed. Still, his boss demanded him to act like a hero. An impossibility for his mind, but something he'd have to deal with.

Then there was the other problem that bothered him endlessly. The eyes and mouth on his left cheek. Back in Lobotomy, it was fine, the thing didn't talk back and he was somewhat respected for earning such a gift from that... 'Thing'. Here, he's seen as nothing but an abomination. What's worse is that the thing had managed to spread to his missing arm, and that was enough to scare the higher-ups, so now Ironwood put a metal gauntlet that effectively made his useless stump an actual hindrance with its absurd weight and how it dangled limply with his movements. He couldn't even take the damn thing off to clean his arm. But it at least served to hide Mimicry's ugly nature.

To make his life even worse, there was the case of the machines. His only true wish was to do what he was taught, forging and following orders, Francisco knew that it was what he wanted and he knew that was also what would bring him happiness. But, there was a constant whispering on the back of his head. 'What if'. What if someone made a machine to do his job for him, what would he do then? That was already happening. The machine at the workshop already made the weapon in but a few hours without any minor mistakes. He was already replaced. Now even his team leader was a machine. Fred knew it, Bemaia did too, yet they seem to be unbothered by its presence. "How?" He couldn't wrap his head around it. "They are both smarter than me, so why am I the only one who can see it..." Penny took the place that, quite literally, anyone could have taken. And yet, a thing was placed in a managerial role. Francisco remembered well what happened last time a machine was in control. He shuddered at the thought.

"Should I go to a psychiatrist...?" His pride denied him such necessity. "No. This is my problem." Francisco took a deep breath to clear his mind.

In front of him sat a towering stone statue that depicted two individuals proudly standing on top of a generic Creature of Grimm, the tallest figure held its sword up high, signifying its determination. Francisco frowned when he looked down on the statue's base, where a pedestal stood with the monument's significance and history carved into its metal plate. Shamefully, he could not read it. However, It didn't take away the fact that he could still try and his own significance to it.

'Are those supposed heroes?' He asked himself, with no exact answer, he went with the obvious and decided that the two figures were considered heroes by the public. Were these the heroes Ozpin needed? The ones Francisco is allegedly on his way to become? Someone who would bask in the light of victory, while proudly shouting of the many threats he has dealt with? No, that wasn't it. Francisco noted that the figure's hand was raised upwards, however, its wielder was making no attempt at appearing to be higher than the sword, perhaps going as far as to say that he-

"What the fuck am I doing?" Francisco cursed himself, turning around and walking away from the statue. 'This isn't like me.' He told himself, "I look like one of those freaks of the ring..." In his internal ramblings, he found himself not too far from the cafeteria. His stomach rumbled with excitement as he smelled lunch. "No need to sit on an empty stomach, right?"

The cafeteria was, for the most part, empty. Most of the first years were off on their mandatory missions or simply enjoying their break. Those included, but weren't limited to, Team JNPR, they went on a mission in a village in Mistral and are expected to return in a few days, Team RWBY is on break, but most of them left academy grounds either to visit their families or to take a break from the same scenery every day.

Francisco knew no one else aside from those two teams, so he couldn't tell who was missing and for what purpose. Searching the immense cafeteria Francisco's eyes fell on a familiar trio, though it made little sense in his mind to see them together. Hastily grabbing a food tray and waiting for whatever the employers served due to his lack of arms, the bald librarian approached the trio.

"Ey." Penny, the first to respond energetically greeted him. Each word that escaped her mouth went in one ear and out the other, none were heard by Francisco. The other two, Bemaia and Weiss, were currently discussing something he didn't understand at first since the conversation has been going on for at least a few minutes.

"Can you help me with your partner over there?" The heiress spoke with a pleading look on her face. Francisco faced his partner, Bemaia, who was thrilled and amused with the girl's pleas. "So, she wants me to be her cook." Francisco then looked back at Weiss, still bemused that someone would ever deny the option of working for the SDC. "Care to tell me why?" Francisco asked as Bemaia slapped his own forehead at the sheer stupidity of his fellow librarian. "Are you serious? You don't-" Weiss stammered her speech, incredulous. "This... Person who you call your partner has just gone toe to toe with the best chef on the face of the planet," She spoke, her eyes filled with both rage and amazement. "Of course I want him to work for me!" Francisco was somewhat confused since he couldn't exactly see where was the problem, that didn't stop him from enjoying the cafeteria food, however. "And I already reassured him that the payment would be on par with his skills!"

Francisco raised his spoon with his right hand, finished gulping down broccoli and spinach, and pointed it at Bemaia. "Don't we have a contract with the Headmaster?" Bemaia nodded. "We do, and she wants me to work for her after I'm done with Beacon." Francisco nodded in understanding. It meant that Bemaia would get a stable source of income for the foreseeable future.

"Personally, It's a really good deal," Bemaia started to explain his point of view. "I mean, I would get paid to live in a big mansion without expanses, on top of living with a..." Bemaia paused for a second, pulling Francisco close as he pulled out his scroll. Looking closer at it, Francisco saw the image of an older woman with white hair bearing an expression of desolation, almost as if she wasn't even there, mentally speaking. Surely rejected. Francisco couldn't read what was written in the image, but it read 'The Wife of Jacques Schnee, the most powerful woman in Atlas.' It was taken from an equal-rights activists paper. Bemaia didn't seem to care about the text though, and simply zoomed in on the older woman. "Beauty..." Bemaia spoke in a lower voice, making sure that only Francisco heard that part. "But!" He broke the hug and returned to his usual self. "I'd say it's more lucrative for both myself and Viggiattore if I denied," He bluntly put it, as he caressed his singular wing.

"If I took your deal I'd be confined to the walls of the Schnee family, being forever known as the 'Schnee's chef' or something like that." Francisco nonchalantly kept eating his lunch. "While that doesn't seem half bad, I'd prefer to build my own restaurant, with my own brand, my own name, my own infamy. Kyleneath can confirm my skills are the real deal and so can I about his. So if he didn't take this deal with your family and people would end up fighting over who would eat his food, then neither will I." Weiss gritted her teeth, as she stared hatefully at him. "Think I can work for you if this 'hero' business fails?" Bemaia didn't even spare Francisco a single glance. "I only employ those who can read, thank you for your time." Francisco shrugged, somewhat bummed that he already failed the job interview for a restaurant that didn't even exist yet. "Shit." He said saddened, as he continued to eat from his tray.

Weiss sat there dejected, watching as Francisco ate silently as Penny shifted and moved uncomfortably in her seat, eyes darting back and forth between Francisco and the floor. "However, with the Vytal festival coming up, I am looking for potential... Financial... Partners..." Bemaia spoke, pulling Weiss' attention back to him. "You have my attention." She said. Bemaia grinned. "See, I plan on opening a small food stand for the festival, but I need some initial funding in order to get it going, quality guaranteed."

The heiress stared at him but didn't say a thing. "If only someone would be generous enough to... Help me in these trying times?" Bemaia said, resting his hand on his forehead as he tilted his body backward and began to slowly descend behind the table. Weiss didn't care much for the act though. "If someone did lend me their help, I would be... Extremely grateful."

Weiss tilted her head. It was obvious what he wanted her to do, and what was worse is that his acting was horrible. "Care to get to the point?" Bemaia rose back to his chair with a serious expression. "I need money to build a food stand. Can you-"

However, from the other side of the silent cafeteria, came a man storming towards the group, interrupting their conversation. "Hey! Can you two lower the volume a bit? Everything you say echoes when there are so few people..." The four but Penny glared at the newcomer. "Oh. It's you." The person spat with venom in his voice, his gaze falling on Bemaia.

Bemaia on the other hand, didn't seem to remember who this random dude was. "Um..." Bemaia looked at him again. Ginger, is bigger than the average male... Again, he knew that he met a person with such characteristics, but didn't know who he was. Thankfully, Weiss would remind him of the identity of this man. "It's Cardin..." She spoke with a lower tone and directed unfriendliness, however, Bemaia did remember the name, and with it, the individual it represented. "What do you mean by 'It's you'? Rather rude you know?" Bemaia spoke, the eyes from his wing stared at the man. His stare was filled with pity for the man as his instincts told him that some capo would appear from behind him and take Cardin's head. He's seen it more than once with some less-than-savory individuals that thought they could waltz in and get drunk in a restaurant protected by the Thumb, and he definitely could see it happening right now. Francisco on the other hand, remained unphased as he continued eating.

Cardin's eyebrow twitched at the comment. "Rude? You were the ones shouting for the world to hear!"

Weiss was neither impressed nor amused, her arms crossing hearing him talk. "Just pretend he's a dog begging for food and let's continue." Bemaia nodded in agreement, but before they could return to their business talk, Cardin spoke again. "Didn't know you blue-blooded folk had a thing for freaks." Weiss tensed. Her body going stiff from the simple implication that she had anything for the likes of Bemaia, not even a blush appeared on her face. Her expression turned sour, as she turned to him. And right before she could escalate things, Bemaia was quicker, standing between her and Cardin with an unreadable expression. "Now, now. That's no way of talking with my business associate, is it?"

Cardin took a step back, surprised that Bemaia, who stood a head lower than him, decided to confront him. "Now, this is amusing! You, Bemaia, standing up for Schnee! What a joke." Bemaia rose an eyebrow at his spontaneous ire towards the two of them. "By chance, do you have a thing against me?" Bemaia asked ingeniously. "Wow! Where do I begin? Perhaps the fact that you and your team cheated to get into Beacon? The girl not included, though she gives me the creeps." In turn, Penny waved her hand at Cardin, who ignored her.

The librarian remained confused. "...Elaborate?" The librarian asked, confused at Cardin's accusation. "Seriously...?" Cardin could almost laugh. "You and your freak of a friend didn't do jack to get here! No iniciation, No nothin'! You just appeared one day, fought two rigged fights and here you are today! I bet you didn't even make a written test." Francisco made sure to confirm that suspicion with a proud smile on his face. "He's right, you know? I didn't even know that there was a written test."

Bemaia on the other hand could only pintch the bridge of his nose. This was probably due to Pyrrha's forfeit in Francisco's fight. Though it didn't really count to Bemaia since his fight was fair and square. "We did do an initiation though?" Cardin did not seem to be phased. "You tell me, that you and your friend, who nobody hasn't even heard of, come about and make the untouchable champion forfeit? You gotta agree that it's very suspicious."

Still, Bemaia didn't seem convinced of his own supposed crime. "I mean, you say that, but it proves nothing." However, Cardin's ammunition against him was still plentiful. "Don't even get me started at that five-eyed freak tendency to skip all classes but combat. I couldn't make this shit up even if I tried!" Bemaia scoffed at the accusation, even if it was entirely true. "There are two kinds of problems, ours and yours. That's our problem." Bemaia responded on behalf of his partner who was still eating lunch.

"I beg to differ! If we're both on the battleship one day and me and my team has to rely on yours, and you fucks can't fight and don't even know what is going on around us! Then that would be our problem, don't you think?!" Cardin was rapidly losing his cool, and Bemaia's answer was as simple as the question. "Nah."

Weiss silently watched as the two threw daggers at each other, amused. "This is better than Nora's arguments with Yang."

Carding was quietly gritting his teeth. "The fuck do you mean 'Nah' huh?! Do you think this is a joke? Even Jaune can understand how serious this is! The dude is trying his best, but I can't say the same about you three." However, Bemaia remained unphased at the rude, but entirely correct, remarks Cardin threw at him. "So, what do you want?" He asked the tall ginger with the most relaxed expression one's body could muster. "I didn't have this intention at first, but why not? I want a fight." He said, and just as quickly, Bemaia nodded his head, accepting the challenge. "Alright."

Cardin grinned at his response. "The training grounds are usually free at noon, get your shit and meet me there in fifteen minutes." Before the librarian could accept the terms of the duel, Cardin already stormed off.

The walk towards the armory to get his weapons was somewhat awkward, being followed by Francisco, Penny, and Weiss. Penny didn't need to get her weapons, they were always with her, "Combat Ready" and she would say. Francisco went to get his Downpour just in case someone wanted to challenge him like Cardin did Bemaia, and Weiss went to get her Myrtenaster so she could interrupt the duel if anything went south. Most of Cardin's duels did.

Bemaia swiftly put on his Reliquit Custodian, giving it a few swings to test its condition. "Feels... Different." Francisco nodded. "It should. You did quite the number on it last time you used it, so I had to change things a bit," He began, unsheathing his Downpour and tapping against the bicep of Reliquit Custodian. "I decided to keep the power output the same, even though we had a few problems with public infrastructure, had to increase the weight a bit due to change of material, but it's even sturdier, and since its heavier, the thing you're trying to hit will have an even worse time." Bemaia nodded.

To him, nothing but the texture of the gauntlet changed, the weight was almost unnoticeable because of the gravity dust working to lessen the burden. After loading up a few different vials of Dust, his hands reached for the Honestus Finis, only for a comment coming from behind to make him reconsider bringing the gun. "Gonna shoot the guy from a distance? Like a pussy?"

Bemaia clenched his hand into a fist. "Aight, bet." He spoke, glaring at his partner. "It's up to you to decide if you're a pussy or a penis. Which one will it be I wonder?" Francisco taunted, as Bemaia took the hand cannon and holstered it.

Weiss looked at the duo with disgust. "What are you two even talking about?!" Bemaia shrugged as Francisco sheathed Downpour, both with completely serious expressions of seriousness. "You wouldn't get it." The bald librarian spoke. "Obviously not." Weiss said with an annoyed look on her face. "What do I get If I don't use the gun?"

Francisco hummed for a second, as the group exited the armory. "I'll be the janitor at your food stand if you win without using the gun." Bemaia shook his head at the proposition. "You were already going to be the janitor regardless of bet or not." Francisco didn't know of that piece of information but nodded anyways. "Hm. Well..." The bald librarian thought for a few seconds, as they made their way to the training grounds. "I'll get to it when I get to it." Bemaia exhaled at the complete idiocy of his partner.

Once inside the training grounds, Cardin stood in the center of the arena, resting his weight on his great mace, fully armored. Bemaia was still in his uniform, only with Reliquit Custodian atop it.

He whistled at the sight of someone using armor. "How long has it been since I've seen someone using actual plate armor?" Cardin's plate was nothing special, but was also nothing to scoff at. The plain gray painting made it hard to discern the metal from just a glance, but the golden eagle Aquila on his chest plate screamed pompousness. However, he was not completely secure under said armor. Gaps between plates were blatant, there was one for each moving joint for his arms and legs, made purposefully to counter rabid animals and beasts that wouldn't be intelligent enough to discern where and weren't to strike, but functionally useless against a competent fighter. Bemaia deemed himself to be a competent fighter.

"You ready?" Cardin said, spitting on the ground next to him. Bemaia's eyes twitched at the sight of him spitting. "Weiss, can you count us down?" The librarian said, unholstering Honestus Finis. Cardin's team was nowhere to be seen. There were just the five of them on the dueling grounds. "We'll use the normal rules for sparing, the same that will be used at the vytal festival, is it fine with you two?" Bemaia nodded alongside Cardin. "Very well. Let's start the unnecessary fight." She said, sighing in contempt.

"On the count of three. Three..." Bemaia spared one last glance at his gun, before deciding on his next action.

"Two..." Nonchalantly, Bemaia threw the gun toward his teammates, Francisco was quick enough to catch it before falling to the ground, with an amused expression. "Ladies and Gentlemen! He is a certified man!" Francisco shouted to nobody.

"One..." Cardin readied his stance, incredulous that his opponent would be as bold as to give him an edge in the fight. "I'll make you regret this!" Cardin shouted as Bemaia put his left hand behind his back and his right foot forward, Reliquit Custodian already powered up with a yellow Dust vial already loaded up.

"Begin!" Weiss said, starting an eight-minute counter on her scroll.

Though Cardin was the slower one between the two, Bemaia chose to stand his ground and wait for him to run his way over. Raising his massive mace above his head, Cardin took his sweet time charging a powerful overhead. Instead of dodging out of the way, Bemaia simply activated the Dust charge inside of his gauntlet, as it began crackling with electricity. Only, Cardin didn't feel dissuaded from attacking him, and with immense force, the mace came down into Bemaia's open hand, ready to catch it.

The librarian's knees bent against the force of the ginger, but Bemaia managed to catch the mace with his right hand the electricity from the Dust conducted itself to the metal mace. Bemaia smirked, it all went almost according to plan, however, Cardin did not feel any shock. Upon close inspection, the handle of the mace was completely insulated with some material Bemaia had neither the time nor the mind to tell.

With a well-placed kick right on the chest of the Librarian, Bemaia was sent rolling backward, his Aura tanking the blow successfully. An empty vial ejected itself from Reliquit Custodian as Cardin regained his balance and once again pressed forward toward Bemaia. 'He's smarter than he looks.' He thought to himself, loading a white Vial this time.

Cardin approached with violent intent as Bemaia once again kept his feet light, backstepping the first horizontal swing. Taking advantage of the momentum created by his own failed swing, Cardin spun in place in an attempt to deliver another one, this time transforming his horizontal momentum into a diagonal one. Unfortunately, Bemaia had already seen that same trick before and muscle memory took control, sidestepping the heavy mace as it slammed on the ground, but instead of retaliating, Bemaia raised his right foot as the mace hit the floor and stomped it, nailing it to the ground, as a weak left hook hit Cardin straight in the chin, though the ginger remained unphased.

Struggling to lift his mace from the floor, Cardin felt another weak punch hit his right cheek once again, and upon noticing Bemaia reeling back his Reliquit Custodian for a devastating blow, Cardin made the wise choice to let go of his mace entirely, as he dove backward in an attempt to dodge the punch.

Bemaia wasn't in a better position either, when Cardin let go of his mace, the force keeping it steady was gone, so Bemaia stumbled for a second as his right foot struggled to find balance on the floor. Getting up from the floor, Cardin was quick to get to his feet, so he stopped for a moment to consider his options.

While the ginger remained weaponless, Bemaia punched the mace with his Reliquit Custodian, activating the Dust inside, and leaving the mace not only stuck to the ground but also encased in a thick layer of ice. Cardin gritted his teeth as he understood that his mace was completely out of the game for now, so instead he reached for his back pocket and took a few Dust Crystals, and gripped them hard.

Bemaia, seeing that he was in the advantage, dashed towards the ginger who seemed ready to engage in hand-to-hand combat, but not before putting in a Cyan Vial in his power arm. It's a shame that he didn't have the strength of a power arm. Bemaia threw the first punch, a quick one with his left hand that was quickly parried away by superior dexterity shown by Cardin, but the second one thrown with his right hand was too much for the ginger to handle, hitting his square in the face, making him stumble backward, his Aura handling the blow. Another left punch caught by Cardin's superior strength, and another right hook that he managed to barely sidestep.

Getting frustrated with this fight, Cardin blocked the next right hook thrown by Bemaia with his hand full of Dust Crystals instead. In an explosion of multicolored bright lights and clouds, both combatants were knocked backward with absurd force.

As Bemaia rolled through the ground, he noticed his left arm and leg completely covered with a mixture of ice, rock, and stone, rendering them both useless, though not at all damaged due to Aura. Cardin wasn't in a much better shape either, he took most of the damage out of the two, his right side being shrouded in flames and lightning, his Aura did hold and no significant damage was dealt aside from the numbness and tingling sensation.

Effectively stuck in place, flexed his left arm and legs in a futile attempt to break free from the snare, but it was no use.

As Cardin approached slowly due to the wind being knocked out of him by the explosion, Bemaia attempted to peel off the shell in his arm and leg with his Reliquit Custodian. However, before the battle could continue, Weiss shouted from the top of her lungs, "Stop! Your Aura is at Red Cardin! The Bemaia's winner."

Cardin hesitated slightly before coming to a stop. "Fine. You win." Bemaia did not expect him to give in so passively after all that he threw around earlier. "You're smart, if you hadn't taken away my weapon, that gauntlet of yours would have been history by now." Bemaia managed to break off the shell, massaging his arm. "No shit. I've felt the first blow, no way I could take another." Cardin scoffed at that. "You're a madman, blowing us both up." But the ginger paid no mind to the librarian, and simply activated the Fire Dust inside his frozen weapon via the unfrozen trigger at the very tip of the handle, heating it up.

"So, you're the real deal..." He said to the librarian, "That was mostly luck, however. I'm pretty confident my team could beat yours. Get in the Vytal Festival and find out." Cardin finished, taking his weapon and leaving defeatedly the arena.

"Keep talking, we'll see who beats who." Bemaia said out of Cardin's earshot and went back to his team and Weiss, as things appeared to be getting pretty heated with Francisco and Penny on the sidelines.

"Huh? Who are you?"

"Cinder? You aren't allowed to be here at this time young lady."

"My relationship with the General is between me and him, now leave befo-"

"..."

"Yes, that would be rather... Interesting."

"Indeed. The general doesn't understand that he can't shackle science."

"The Festival? No, the Remembrance Machine will not be used."

"You want it to be used? In what manner?"

"..."

"You realize that I can call down the might of the entire Atlas military upon you for saying that, correct?"

"..."

"I hate to admit it, but you speak of truth. The uses for my magnum opus would be... Recreational at best due to Ironwood."

"..."

"Its limits? Well... That remains to be seen."

"Fine, you win. I will lend you some help."

"..."

"His worst nightmares..."

"Tomorrow I will run some tests, be there, and I'll show you what true horror is."