Grimm are, scientifically speaking, fascinating animals… although it is still a contentious subject of debate on whether or not they can even be called animals at all. However, what was certain was that the lack of certainty just made them all the more fascinating especially given just how much about them was a mystery. Frankly, calling them a mystery was an understatement! It would be more accurate to call Grimm walking paradoxes!

For example, every known species of Grimm possessed some form of natural defenses like most other animals… Though most animals weren't walking around in armor made of some sort of bone-like material, the basic idea was the same. And while that similarity wasn't odd on paper it became strange and even contradictory when taken with the fact that Grimm had no natural enemies. They had no predators, they didn't bother any animals and animals didn't bother them.

Animals evolved defenses to ward off threats so how could the Grimm accomplish the same despite lacking any natural threats to spur evolution in that direction? Did Grimm even evolve?

It wasn't just armor, the Grimm were hunters possessing methods that varied wildly between species and spanned everything from the mundane to the near supernatural. But Grimm had no biological need for food, so why hunt at all and why only hunt people? On top of that, what research that could be done has suggested that Grimm didn't even have anything that resembled a digestive system! According to people who had been eaten and rescued and/or escaped there wasn't even stomach acid. As for the ones who couldn't be rescued and/or escaped… their bodies were never found, ever.

What research on that gruesome subject that could be done has suggested that the bodies just disappear. How it happens is unknown, but it has been hypothesized that those poor souls disintegrated just like a Grimm's corpse will.

And those were just a couple of examples about Grimm in general and how they seem to make a mockery of biology and physics. There was so much more that could be discussed, an entire library could be filled with just the literature discussing and theorizing how and why Grimm can sense negative emotions. Many more libraries could be filled with observations and theories around specific species of Grimm, and yet still so little is known about them as a whole.

Where do they come from? Why do they hate us? Why don't they have souls?

The Nevermore, such as the one Team PRAN was fighting, was a perfect example of just how frustrating the study of Grimm could be. The species starts just slightly larger than a regular raven and travels in swarms, and then they mature and become massive solitary creatures that can somehow harden and fire their feathers without the loss of flight! Bizarrely this abrupt and total transformation happens with no in-between state leading some to suggest that adult Nevermores are the product of the swarm merging together but none have ever witnessed such a thing happening.

Compared to that nonsense the fact that even juvenile Nevermores are too heavy to fly seems almost trite. Or for an example that was relevant to the correct situation; how an adult Nevermore could use their wings like an extra set of legs to fight while on the ground. However, if you were to ask Team PRAN right now, they would disagree on how trite both those details were.

"WHY IS THIS THING SO TOUGH!?" Nora politely asked the universe at large as her hammer bounced off the wings of the Nevermore while doing seemingly no damage. "I thought this thing hurt one of its wings, how is it still fighting?"

"That's actually a rather interesting topic of debate amongst scholars!" Pyrrha answered while ducking under a swipe. "The leading theory is that their bones are super dense, so perhaps its wing isn't that hurt?"

"But wouldn't that make them unable to fly?" Nora asked as she sidestepped a peck before trying and failing to crack the beak.

"True, but since when did Grimm care about what's possible or not?"

To the outside observer, the pair of Huntresses might seem rather foolish. After all, fights to the death were hardly the best environment for small talk especially when the enemy was a large soulless monster seeking the death and destruction of them followed closely by a town and its innocents. But this small talk wasn't being made for its own sake, it was part of a proven strategy for taking down large Grimm.

The strategy was simple, Pyrrha and Nora would serve as distractions by attacking the front of the Grimm while making noise to keep its attention. Meanwhile, Jaune and Ren who both had means to avoid being detected by Grimm would flank the Beast and strike at openings and weak spots.

There was just one tiny little problem.

Ren pointed his Stormflower pistols at the wings of the Nevermore and fired. Ideally, those bullets would penetrate the feathers and pierce the underlying bones weakening them. Since the Nevermore was using its wings to prop itself up and keep balance as it fought, damaging them would cause it to fall over… But the bullets couldn't cut through the feathers. Stormflower just didn't have the firepower to pull it off.

Jaune wasn't faring much better. While his sword could cut through a feather without much issue, cutting through multiple feathers layered on top of each other was a bit of a different beast. The fact that the Nevermore was constantly moving around made it exponentially harder to line up a perfect cut. He was getting nowhere fast.

"This isn't working!" Jaune shouted frustratedly as his sword slid off of the feathers for the… he had lost count of how many attempts he had made and had no interest in trying to remember.

"Let's switch targets and go for the legs," Ren suggested before dashing towards the aforementioned legs.

It was a good suggestion, the legs weren't covered in feathers and thus should be easier to damage. But at the same time, the legs carried their own risks, many Huntsmen met their ends pinned under a heavy foot whose trajectory they miscalculated, and it wasn't their fault. Grimm became bigger, tougher, stronger, and smarter as they aged and while they never came close to approaching the realm of people, simple tricks were often more effective than most people give them credit for.

Jaune quickly learned that lesson when he carelessly ran up the nearest leg to take a swing at it, only for Grimm to take a sudden step toward him. He was able to swerve away and avoid being crushed… but he didn't avoid the talon.

The hooked claw of the Nevermore struck his right shoulder, his sword arm. With his armor all but destroyed and his Aura nonexistent there was nothing to protect the young man from the talon cutting through skin, muscle, sinew and a couple of ribs, and yet he was lucky. He was lucky since his shoulders, arm, and waist were still attached to the rest of his body, though he certainly didn't feel lucky.

Due to his unique condition, his sense of pain was dulled and the adrenaline coursing through his body helped to further dull it but he still screamed. The scream was mostly a reaction to the shock of being cut rather than actual pain… but if he survived, the pain would come. He'd heal, but he'd feel like shit and even after it was done it was all but certain that it would ach for a while.

But the Nevermore had no intention of letting him survive that long. It wasn't a sadist, it didn't care about inflicting pain or fear on its victims nor was it particularly vengeful. All it wanted was death, it wanted it quickly and efficiently for everyone including an annoyingly little knight who tried to nip at its wings and feet.

Jaune needed to run, every instinct in his brain was screaming at him to get up and run but it was hard. He was too busy holding his nearly severed shoulder against his body so that his regeneration could fix it and was more than a little worried about it healing wrong… not that it had in the past but there was a first time for everything.

A shadow overhead was the only warning he got before the Nevermore tried to crush him to death with a quick stamp.

Luckily Ren was quicker. He holstered his pistols and closed the distance to strike the descending leg with an Aura-enhanced shoulder strike knocking the limb aside and making the Grimm lose balance for the first time in that fight… but that just meant that now the whole thing was threatening to fall on them.

"RUN!" Ren shouted and Jaune didn't need to be told twice.

"This feels so weird!" The knight bemoaned as he held his shoulder in place. He could feel the flesh and bone mending and reconnecting itself and he did not like it.

"Jaune! Are you alright!" Pyrrha shouted but was unable to do anything but defend herself from the mad failing of a Nevermore trying in vain to keep its balance

"NO! I'm not alright!" Jaune answered just before the Nevermore finally fell and narrowly missed him as it hit the ground.

"This isn't working," Ren calmly shouted. "We need to try something different."

"Well, we're all open to suggestions!" Nora not so calmly shouted back.

Pyrrha felt everyone's gaze drifting towards her looking for an answer or even a suggestion. She was the leader after all, coming up with the plan was her job. But she had no answers… the Nevermore would soon stand up again and she didn't know whether they should try to attack or move back to avoid counterattack. Jaune's body was still in the middle of healing and just now she noticed that his sword was gone, most likely dropped when he was nearly bisected by that talon… Though it wouldn't have mattered even if he wasn't hurt and disarmed, Jaune and Ren haven't been able to deal any damage despite their efforts.

"We can't beat this thing," Pyrrha whispered.

"What did you just say?" Nora asked.

"We can't beat this thing," Pyrrha repeated even louder than before.

"Then what are we supposed to do?" Nora demanded. "People are counting on us!"

The Nevermore was starting to pick itself off of the ground and its eyes were focused on Team PRAN. They did not have time to be arguing but they also needed to be on the same page right now or they were going to lose. They needed to compromise.

"We can't!" Jaune shouted while standing himself up, his wound was nearly healed but the other effects of his Semblance were triggering. His voice was now deeper and rougher, his eyes were now a copper yellow, the color of his skin fading, his veins bulging and dark, he was noticeably taller, and there was something akin to a horn protruding from his head.

"We can't run," he repeated with a growl in his voice. The people of Autumn Hill could not be allowed to see him like this yet he was still intent on protecting them. "If we run then the town will be destroyed."

"Maybe we can force it to retreat?" Ren suggested hoping for a compromise.

"How? Jaune is hurt and without a weapon and your pistols aren't doing much. Who are we going to protect when we can't protect ourselves!?" Pyrrha shot back before finally noticing that the Nevermore was standing up.

Without a word, she switched her spear to rifle mode and tried to shoot the Nevermore in one of its eyes. She made that shot with the belief that it wasn't going to land, hurting the thing wasn't the goal. Her intention was purely to buy her team some time, a way to keep the Grimm on edge and cautious of them. A way to keep the thing from thinking that it could get a sneak attack on them… but despite that, the bullet flew true and pierced the red eye of the Nevermore.

The Beast cried out in pain and surprise before taking a few steps back. It wasn't afraid of them, Grimm didn't have emotions and pain didn't deter them, if it did then it would have left after the crash landing damaged its wing. But old enough Grimm did have a survival instinct and this Nevermore was old enough. It understood that it couldn't bring forth destruction if it was killed and now these insignificant sacks of skin have just proven that they could hurt it, maybe even kill it.

The wing was an unlucky coincidence and so was the eye but it didn't know that. What it did know was that this was the second time that they had managed to hurt it and that meant that this hunt was turning into a fight. That meant that it had to be cautious.

But that caution quickly proved to be a mistake.

Nora saw the Nevermore's hesitation and didn't understand the reason behind it. She didn't even try to understand why it was acting that way and that would quickly prove to be the correct choice. Because what she did know for sure was that there were still four grenades left in Magnild and right now the Grimm was wide open.

*BOOM*

That first grenade was aimed right at the Nevermore's face. The monster saw the bomb coming and tried to jerk its head out of the way but Nora was just a little too close and the Nevermore a little too slow. As a result, the only thing the Nevermore accomplished was having the grenade hit the side of its face, the side with the damaged eye, rather than the center. But that hardly mattered, the explosion made sure of that.

The blast destroyed the damaged eye and burned away some of the monster's neck feathers exposing the skin underneath. That unearthed spot would have been the perfect place for those Hunters to attack if it hadn't been out of their reach. But the true impact of that grenade wasn't in the damage that it caused. Its true value was in the mental shift that it triggered.

Watching that Grimm flinch, stumble, and cry out in pain ignited a fire inside Team PRAN. But it wasn't one of confidence or heroic willpower, it was one far closer to desperation. It was the realization that this was their last chance to turn this fight around or die and the reason that they understood this wasn't because of anything observable.

It was instinct that was guiding their actions right now. It was an instinct that had been forged piece by piece with every fight that they had been through so far. The sparring matches held by Glynda, the out-of-classroom spars, Professor Port's lessons, and all of the missions that they had gone on were serving their purpose at this moment which was to cultivate something that would help keep them alive.

Instinct.

Fights were quick brutal things that left very little time to consider what your next move should be and in many cases, it wasn't worth trying. Any distraction had the potential to be fatal so Huntsmen had to be able to fight without distraction. They had to be able to rely on their body instinctually to understand the situation and move accordingly. If you couldn't then you'd let opportunities to attack slip you by while leaving yourself open to anything even remotely unexpected. Worse still was that you'd be allowing your enemy to dictate the pace of the battle, just like how the Nevermore had until just this very moment.

Team PRAN's instinct was still raw and in need of refinement, but it wasn't wrong and right now it was screaming at them to attack before the Nevermore could regain its bearings. They needed to press the advantage now before it vanished along with any chance of survival and press they did.

Nora fired off another grenade, Ren unloaded his pistols trying to take out another eye, Pyyrha ran underneath the creature to grab Jaune's sword, and Jaune went looking for his sword and got to hacking the moment he found it … There was no real strategy, it was a mess. A complete and utter mess that under most circumstances would have gotten them all killed. A mad sloppy rush that could have only been the result of temporary lunacy.

But it worked.

The Nevermore used its only good wing to try and block the second grenade but that gave its attackers an opening to push harder and push they did.

Jaune, Ren, and Pyrrha all honed in on the same body part, a leg. By damaging that leg the Nevermore would struggle to stand, perhaps it wouldn't be able to. And though it might fall right on top of them, it was a risk worth taking to force the beast to retreat so it could fight another day… but the Nevermore wasn't just going to let them hack off one of its legs.

A third grenade struck the Nevermore's face forcing it to take a step back and forcing the trio to give chase.

Once they caught up they began their bloody work once again. Jaune took a swing with his sword, Ren followed using both pistols to deliver two cuts to the same spot Jaune struck, and Pyrrha altered between her sword and shield to further deepen the gash that was forming on the leg. It wasn't easy but they were able to break through the skin to start working on the bone.

As for Nora, she didn't fire the fourth and final grenade at the Nevermore. Instead, she pointed Magnhild at the ground, leaped, and then fired using the explosion to launch herself into the air high above the Nevermore's head. Once she was at the apex of her leap she switched the grenade launcher to hammer form and raised it over her head to swing with all of her might.

While the others destroyed the Nevermore's leg, she would strike its head with the force of a Meteor, hopefully killing the monster.

But the Nevermore saw what she was doing and instinctively knew that it would not survive that hit. It needed to stop her and do it now. So leaped after her fully intent on swallowing her whole right in front of her team and would have succeeded… in another world.

But in this world, the damage that Jaune, Ren, and Pyrrha had inflicted on that leg bone managed to pass a critical threshold. So when the Nevermore put the weight of its body on its back legs, one of them snapped in half. Thus instead of leaping into the air, the monster fell back down onto the earth… and landed right on top of the trip pinning them under the weight of its body.

And as for Nora, she kept falling. Originally she had planned to use the moment she struck the Nevermore's head to help break her fall but now that head was on the ground. Now there was going to be nothing to help slow her down and buy her precious moments to brace herself for a rough landing… She would kill the Nevermore trapping her friends beneath it but what after that, what then?

She would have to figure that out later: *Crunch*

Manghild crushed the Nevermore's skull with a satisfying crunch but Nora couldn't enjoy it. She landed badly and now her Aura was broken and her body was aching and it wasn't just her. The Nevermore had fallen on top of the rest of her team and it would take a few minutes for the body to dissipate… this was too close. None of them had made it out unscathed, none of them were in any condition to keep fighting.

Then Nora heard a roar belonging to one last group of Grimm. One that had been attracted not by the town but by their desperate struggle against the Nevermore. Many Huntsmen had lost their lives after winning desperate fights that left them unable to fight off scavengers looking for an easy kill and these final Grimm were headed straight for Team PRAN fully intent on adding to that terrible statistic.

Nora could hear them coming. Already she could see their black fur in the rapidly diminishing distance. She pulled herself up, grabbed Magnhild, glanced at the dissipating body of the Nevermore with her Teammates still underneath it, and then did something that she hadn't done in over a decade.

She prayed. She prayed to a god who had never answered her prayers even once in her life. But right now, there was no one else she could look to for help.

Heathcliff was hesitating and he wasn't ashamed to admit it. The only thing separating him from the Whitebay's home was a mere door, a door where a gunman had hidden behind and opened fire on the posse that Brandy had put together… A door that the gunman could still be hiding behind along with who knows who else. The Whitebays were a big family and they made it clear that they were willing to fight, only a fool wouldn't hesitate.

"What's the plan, detective?" The lanky man asked.

"Well…," Heathcliff paused. "I'm sorry but I never got your name."

"Henry Slik."

"Well, Henry. If we try to break in like Brandy did, well dat will probably git us shot and I'm not keen on dat. So I thinks dat the best way to go bout dis through diplomacy."

"Makes sense. But if that doesn't work?"

"Then you best stay behind me. My Aura protects me so I'll protect you. Meanwhile, you can try and talk to em. Dis town hasn't been good to them but they at least know you, meanwhile, I'm jus a stranger dat got one of their own arrested."

"Okay… what do I tell them?"

"Jus be honest, they know why we're ere so there's no point in trying to hide it. Instead, try to make em see why we gotta do dis."

Henry closed his eyes and mulled it over for a few seconds before clearing his throat and getting behind Heathcliff before addressing whoever might be on the other side of that door. "Look, things are rough and I'm not going to pretend that my family and I haven't been accomplices in it. I'm sorry, I was a fool. We all were and we treated you wrong."

There was no response.

Henry kept going, "I get that you don't want anything to do with us and that's fair, especially after what Brandy tried to pull… But we need to clear things up. We need Erik, I get that it's awful but nothing will get better unless we clear things up."

Again, there was no response but this time Heathcliff channeled Aura into his ears to try and figure out what was going on. But he heard nothing, nothing at all. I don't need a gut feeling to know that something weird is going on here.

"Heathcliff sir, I think we need to get closer."

"I think so too. Stick close to me and stay low."

Together they took one step and then together they paused, then they took another and another and another. It was a slow process but a necessary one to avoid coming off as hostile to whoever might be behind that door. And if it turned out that no one was there, that was fine. It was better to be safe than sorry.

Soon enough they reached the door and they paused again before Henry said, "We're going to open up and let ourselves in, please don't shoot us."

Heathcliff pulled the door open and found no one there besides an old man on the floor clutching a shotgun… the man was dead and there was a strong floral scent in the air.

"That's Roger! He's Erik's grandpa," Henry remarked before getting a closer look. "He must have been the guy who shot at Brandy."

"And it looks like Brandy managed to git him wit the return fire. Damn shame, he could ave helped clear a few things up."

"Where's the rest of the family?"

"Don't know. Stay close, dis place might ave traps."

The home Whitebays was dimly lit and it wasn't clear whether they were the ones who had done it or if the town had done it to them, either could be true. But even with the lack of light, it was clear that this home was well cared for, everything was in order and everything was clear as far as they could tell and there was a lovely smell in the air.

"Where's the light switch?" Henry asked before taking a step into the dark before being pulled back by Heathcliff. "And why does this place smell like scented candles?"

Heathcliff pulled Henry back and stood between him and the door, "Wat if someone is hiding?" He then sent Aura into his eyes and ears and began his search. He didn't know what he was looking for but he'd know when he found it, or at least he hoped he would.

As for what he saw, If he was to describe the living room in a single word he would have used; quaint and he would have meant it in the best possible way. The floor and walls were made of what appeared to be wood, or rather it would be more accurate to say that it had wooden paneling to cover up the industrial concrete. All together it created the feeling of a log cabin, a nice warm pleasant underground log cabin with knitted blankets and pillows. Interestingly, the wood that made up the wall and floor seemed to be the same type of wood that made the furniture along with many of the buildings that he had seen in town. They must have all gotten the wood from the same place.

But there was also something here that he noticed wasn't that common around town; candles. Specifically, it was scented candles of all kinds.

The presence of the candles wasn't strange, every building ever built probably had a couple of candles either for smell or for an emergency. But the Whitebays took it further, much much further than most people would have. There were so many candles here that Heathcliff wondered to himself if this was their primary means of seeing in the dark. Or maybe they just really like the smell of candles, though I doubt that. Nobody takes it this far.

"Can you see a light switch?" Henry asked.

Heathcliff glanced around the walls and spotted a light switch by the doorway, his guts were telling him not to bother. "There's one right by the doorway."

"I see it." Henry carefully stepped around the body and flicked the switches but no light came. He then tried a few more times and even gave the wall a soft wack before giving up. "Is the switch broken?"

"I think the Whitebays don't ave electricity."

"What? But the other dwellings have… oh, someone cut their electricity," Henry hated the thought of the town doing that to someone but, reality didn't care about his feelings on the matter.

"Yeah and judging by all the candles, it's been a while." I don't see any melted wax, they are really trying their best to take care of this place.

"Candles? Well, that explains the smell." Henry walked back to Heathcliff.

"Yeah, they must be using them to make up for the lack o' electricity."

"All that smoke can't be too healthy, I wonder how they are ventilating it."

Henry's innocent question made something click together in Heathcliff's head, there was something weird here or rather what wasn't here was incredibly odd. Where are the Whitebays? If they were hiding in ambush then wouldn't they have attacked already? Wouldn't we have heard something by now? Did they… leave? But when could they have done it and how did they do it without anyone noticing?

"I don't think anyone is ere." Heathcliff finally said before adding. "I'm gonna use my scroll's flashlight function, stay behind me jus in case I'm wrong and someone tries taking a potshot at us."

To both his surprise and relief, nobody did. He was painting the biggest possible target on himself with his scroll but nobody took the shot and it was starting to look like his suspicions were correct. But if they're not here, then where are they?

Seeing that it was safe, Henry also turned on the flashlight on his scroll but he also walked up to a nearby candle and lit it with a match. He then picked up the candle and watched the flame, a few seconds passed before he explained why. "All these candles would create a lot of smoke, they would need some way to ventilate it all. They must have modified this place somehow."

"You sound so sure about it. I take it dat modifications aren't too uncommon round ere?"

"It's more than common, it's almost a tradition around here. But it's also sort of a big problem, sometimes folks get a little careless and hit something they weren't supposed to. My mom once got in trouble for trying to make a secret mushroom garden in her kitchen." Henry said while carefully following Heathcliff and slowly waving the candle around to see if the flame would react to anything.

"And how was she going to do dat?" Heathcliff found and peeked inside the kitchen, there was no one there and nothing noteworthy besides a cute little table in the corner. He then checked the cabinets and fridge, there was no food either. Did they run out of food or did they take it somewhere?

"She dug a hole through the broom closet, got a bit carried away, and ended up a little too close to the plumbing."

"What!? Are you telling me that she jus took a shovel and started whacking the back 'o the closet?"

"Yeah, it takes a bit of effort but anyone can do it with enough time and elbow grease. It's' why it's a big problem, too many people dig in the wrong direction and end up breaching a vent or in rare cases even reaching the sewage tunnel."

A picture was starting to form in Heathcliff's head but it was too soon to jump to any conclusions, "Alright… So wat if there was a family that had years to dig and no one cared to check in on 'em. How far could they git?"

Henry stared at the flame on the candle, the flame was flickering as though a gentle breeze was flowing past it. In his mind he followed that breeze to its origin, it was coming from the kitchen and he felt in his bones that it wasn't a coincidence. "A family like the Whitebays could probably dig a tunnel anywhere they wanted. They had the time and every reason to want to leave this place. By the way, there's a small breeze coming from the direction of the kitchen."

Heathcliff glanced at the kitchen up ahead, it wasn't remarkable but he did notice a broom closet. "So hypothetically speaking, what if yer mom hadn't been caught? Wat if she dug right past the plumbing and made it into the sewage tunnel, wat would ave happened?"

"I don't know sir, I don't know… but I get the feeling that we'll be getting a chance to ask Whitebay's real soon," Henry said as he moved the candle around keeping a close eye on where the flame flicked and where it didn't. Right now, it was leading him to the broom closet but there was something else there, something in the breeze.

"There's a smell coming from this closet, it's not much but it's bad. That must be what the scented candles are for!" Henry said with complete certainty.

"Then stand behind me," Heathcliff said before lightly touching the handle with the back of his hand, before pulling back when he felt a jolt of electricity go through his body. "OUCH!"

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, it jus took me off guard, that's all. But more importantly, dis is where they went. Why else would they trap dis door." Heathcliff said as he raised a leg to kick the door down.

"What if someone is waiting on the other side with a gun?"

"If there was, then they would ave shot after I shouted," He then kicked the door with enough force that the hinges broke as it flew backward into the closet… If there had been someone there then the flying door would have surely taken care of them.

But just like he had predicted, there wasn't anyone there. What was there was a battery pack on the floor that had until recently been wired up to where the door handle used to be, it was what shocked him… And there was also a tunnel. The mouth of the tunnel was located in the very back of the closet, it was narrow and lit with scented slow burning candles hanging from the ceiling to try and mask the smell. It was impossible to tell where the tunnel led to without venturing further inside but they had a few guesses.

So venture inside they did, and they did so carefully. There were few places better suited for traps than a narrow tunnel. Low visibility, lack of space, the only movement options were forward or back, and a well-placed explosive would collapse the whole thing down, turning the narrow tunnel into a cramped tomb within seconds. And given how the town had treated this family, Heathcliff had to imagine that there was something nasty hidden and he didn't blame them.

To his surprise, they didn't stumble into any trap. Whether it was because the Whitebays had no interest or simply lacked the opportunity for anything beyond the battery was irrelevant. The result was the same and it was a result he was grateful for… what he wasn't grateful for was the smell. It started small, suppressed by the scented candles. But as they reached the end of the tunnel and got closer to the source of the smell, the less the candles could do to mask the fetid smell of raw sewage.

But the smell was nothing compared to what they found at the end of the tunnel; an old grumpy woman with a shotgun.

"Fuck you!" She shouted before unleashing a blast aimed right at Heathcliff's face.

BANG*

The buckshot hit the Huntsman right in the face as he shielded Henry from the attack. His Aura held, but it could only handle so many shots like that so the pair retreated back into the tunnel. And fortunately for them, she had no interest in following.

"Ma'am we are not gonna harm you or yer family!" Heathcliff shouted while planning out what to do just in case she couldn't be talked down to. I can't use the gun, even a stun round could kill her. I might have to just grab her.

Henry also tried to help, "He's telling the truth, Tulip! We're not here to hurt you."

"That voice… Henry? Is that you?" Her voice softened just a little but she remained on edge. "You were always so nice to my grandson Erik."

"Yes! We're here to help Erik!"

"Then come on out and let me get a good look at you!"

Henry tried to step forward but Heathcliff held him back, "We'd loved to ma'am but could you first put down that gun? It makes us nervous, especially since you tried to shoot us earlier."

"Well, that's the point of a gun, honey. It's for shooting people who break into your home and kill your husband and don't try to pretend that you sons of bitches didn't kill him. The fact that you're here is proof that my husband is dead and I swear to the brothers that I will not let you kill the rest of my family." Her voice was sweet and absolutely dripping with malice and grim finality. She wasn't afraid to die, her only fear was that she might not buy enough time for her family before dying.

"We didn't kill him!" Henry protested. "Brandy did and we were trying to stop him.

"Brandy? Hmm, I always knew that two-faced bastard was dangerous. He was always too clever and ambitious, he was a goddamned snake."

"We agree on that, which is why he's not here! Mr. Heathcliff arrested him, Brandy is going to face justice. We're on your side!"

*BANG*

"DO YOU THINK I'M GODDAMNED STUPID!?" Tulip shouted before firing again and ranting between every single shot.

*BANG*

"Y'ALL ARRESTED MY GRANDSON AND YOU HAVE THE BALLS TO SAY THAT YOU'RE ON MY SIDE!?"

*BANG*

"BULLSHIT! HORSESHIT! GOOSESHIT! AND ALL OTHER KINDS OF ANAL EXCREMENTS!"

*click* *click* *click*

Tulip was so angry that it took her three trigger pulls to realize that she needed to reload. She was so angry that she accidentally dropped the shells onto the floor as she tried to reload the gun. But she wasn't so angry that she didn't notice that Heathcliff had stepped out of the tunnel and was standing there with his gun hanging off to the side while his empty hands were in the air.

"Hi, I think we got off on the wrong foot," Heathcliff said while trying to look as nonthreatening as possible.

She eyed his gun as she changed her grip so she was now holding the shotgun like a club. "Are you going to shoot me?"

"No. Even if you attack me I won't shoot, I don't wanna give you a heart attack via electric stun rounds." Heathcliff took a cautious step towards her, he didn't want to hurt her. He didn't want to hurt anyone more than absolutely necessary but at the same time, he was channeling Aura into his leg so he could cross the distance and overpower her if he must.

"Well that's real sweet of you honey, but I've shat out tougher shits than you."

Heathcliff didn't respond, he was too busy thinking about how he could restrain her without hurting her. It wasn't going to be easy, he grabbed her too roughly then he could accidentally break one of her bones. If he pushed her to the ground then she could get hurt and the fact that they were in a sewage tunnel meant that any injury could get infected and pushing her into the sewage was just wrong on so many levels.

"Please, don't make me do dis Ma'am."

"You're the one making me do this, young man."

Heathcliff sighed and lowered his hands, "Fine… then I guess I can be yer bad guy."

He came at her fast, much faster than most people would have been able to handle but she had been ready. She swung that shotgun as hard as she could and struck the man right in the ribs… but his Aura blocked the damage.

"Fuck," She muttered to herself before trying to pull her makeshift club back to swing again but Heathcliff wouldn't let her. He took hold of the gun and just held on to it, his grip was so strong that it might as well have been an iron clasp.

"Now can we tal-!?"

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF HER!" A new but familiar voice screamed out and was quickly followed by rapid heavy footsteps.

Heathcliff turned to face this newcomer but all he saw was a fist about to collide against his face. The shock of the blow made him lose his grip on the shotgun and the force behind the punch knocked him right off of his feet, sending him tumbling to the floor.

"Are you alright grandma?!" The new voice asked.

"I'm fine Erik, but you weren't supposed to come."

"How could I stay away after hearing all of that shouting and gunshots?"

During all of this Henry had remained in the tunnel watching from a safe distance. He had done that because Heathcliff had asked him to do so for his safety and he agreed because he didn't want to get shot. Besides, there really wasn't much he could do… until now.

"Erik? Is that you?" Henry asked as stepped out of the tunnel to buy time for Heathcliff to get up. "How come you look like that?"

"This is my Semblance… what are you doing here?"

"Brandy told me to come, he was planning on using you and your family to boost his career. But not anymore, Heathcliff stopped him."

"That doesn't tell me why you're still here."

Heathcliff stood up and answered, "Because I still ave questions and I think you guys ave the answers I'm looking fer. Come on, isn't it time that people heard yer side of the story?"

"Don't listen to him, Erik!" Tulip said as she clung to her grandson from the front, as though she was trying to shield him. "We don't owe them or this town anything! They don't deserve our time, breath, or even our shit."

"She's right," Heathcliff conceded. "You don't owe this town anything… But is this how you want the story to end? This town has gotten to write the history book on this issue without any consideration for yer point of view. Dat's fucked up."

Erik silently stared at the detective and Henry for what felt like hours but in reality wasn't even a minute. He was staring into their eyes, searching the windows of their souls for any falsehood, and found none. They were telling the truth and when he accepted that he turned off his Semblance allowing his body to return to normal… he then took a deep breath and held it as he turned his search into himself to figure out his feelings, and he found it.

"I… don't… care," the words felt strange, and yet the more Erik thought about it the more right it felt. "I don't care."

"What do you mean you don't care? Henry asked, utterly shocked. "They're going to make you and your family out to be monsters! How can you not care!?"

Tulip laughed bitterly, "They've already done that! The history book has already been written, published, and taught to kids for generations! The Whitebays are the villains of Autumn Hills and that's that… But we're not gonna stick around and put up with it anymore."

Heathcliff sighed in resignation and acceptance, "You've been planning this fer a long time. At least tell me why you aven't done this earlier, surely you could have."

Erik answered, "Some of us believed that the town could be better, that the past could remain in the past… Do you know why my family busted me out of prison?"

"Let me guess, it was Brandy?"

"Yes, but it wasn't just him. Brandy's plan to make me and my family into monsters he could slay only worked because the town still suspects us of being monsters. Do you understand? The only thing Brandy did was say what they were already thinking and put into action what they already wanted to do… the badge just made it official."

Heathcliff felt sick, "Brandy was going to make an example of you no matter what and your family busted you out before he could."

"That's right." Erik's voice was sad but resolute, "We've given this town more than enough chances to change but it refuses to. It's a toxic relationship, and the only way out is to leave."

Heathcliff didn't reply back, what could he even say? Yes, Erik was a suspect on the run but his actions were hardly egregious given the circumstances and there was no reason to believe that he'd be given a fair trial even if he hadn't run… So if justice wasn't possible here, what was? He could arrest Brandy but what about Erik?

Henry on the other hand had his mind cleared of doubts, "Can I help pack?"

Erik shrugged, "Why not? Besides, I'm pretty sure that you two have a lot of questions. I can't promise answers but at least you can hear our side of the story."

Author's Notes: Sorry that this one came so late but a lot of bullshit happened last month including me needing to take my computer for repair… though if that hadn't happened the chapter would have still been late. The reason was that I once again treated my self-imposed deadline as an absolute rather than an ideal, so I decided to post this chapter late on purpose.

But my plan was to be only a few days late, however, the computer problems turned that into nearly a month.

As for the chapter itself, there was a lot that I wanted to do but just couldn't fit in naturally. In hindsight trying to split each chapter between Team PRAN and Team RWBY was a mistake or rather it became a mistake as the arc continued. As it went on I should have dedicated a chapter or two to one side before switching to the other and so that's what I'm going to do… The next chapter will hopefully end the Team PRAN side of things allowing me to focus on RWBY afterward.

Also, a part of me wishes that it was PRAN going after Erik but I had no idea how to justify that in-universe. But there will be plenty of time in the future for our heroes to face moral conundrums.

One last thing, that little exposition on the nature of Grimm was something that I went back and forth on whether to include it or not. I ultimately chose to leave it in because understanding the nature of the Grimm is something that will become more important as the story progresses. So I decided to plant the seeds now to give them a chance to grow.

Until next time, thanks for reading!