//------------------------------// // The End of the Night (Rewritten) // Story: SAPR // by Scipio Smith //------------------------------// The End of the Night Pyrrha was coming increasingly to regret the fact that she had stayed in the ballroom after Sunset, Ruby, and the Rosepetals departed; judging by the uneasy look on his face, it seemed that Jaune was feeling the same way. Like everyone else – she could hardly have missed it – she had heard the crash as Rainbow Dash leapt down from the upper gallery to land in the middle of the dance floor, yelled for Penny, and then rushed out into the night. She had seen Ruby, Penny, Sunset, and Ciel follow Rainbow out, but she had not followed herself. She hadn't been asked for, Jaune hadn't been asked for, and Sunset and Ruby had seemed more curious as to what Rainbow was doing and why she was acting this way than they seemed to have been requested or required by her. Whatever was going on with Rainbow Dash of Team RSPT, Pyrrha had told herself that it was none of her business, and it had been easy to tell herself so, at first, once the immediate disturbance of Rainbow's entry and abrupt departure had subsided and the dancing had resumed. Jaune was here, his arms were around her, seeming to fit her body so perfectly as if they had been made for one another. They had the music and each other, and in his arms, she felt so comfortable and so wanted and so…so happy that it was easy to tell herself that Sunset and Ruby would soon return, that whatever had so bothered Rainbow was nothing that ought to bother Pyrrha, that everything was going to be alright, and they could continue to dance and talk untroubled. But then General Ironwood stalked out of the ballroom, grim-faced, his look as hard as the armour on one of his warships, and it got a little bit harder for Pyrrha to tell herself that. Jaune also began to look more troubled, and the fact that – contrary to what Pyrrha, at least, had expected – Sunset and Ruby did not swiftly return only added to the sense of unease that was building up like a dust charge in her gut. They weren't the only ones to have noticed that something was up. Yang was looking increasingly agitated, and Emerald and Mercury of Team CLEM – neither their team leader nor their fourth teammate had come to the dance tonight, as far as Pyrrha could see – were looking worried as well, although in their case, it was harder to understand. By this time, Pyrrha and Jaune had stopped dancing and were sitting at one of the tables that lined the eastern edge of the ballroom. "Do you think we should have gone with them?" Jaune asked. "They… they didn't ask for us," Pyrrha said, although even as she said it, she could tell how feeble it sounded in her ears. She frowned. "But, yes, I'm beginning to think so." Jaune looked as though he wished that she'd given him a different answer. "But… come on, we're in the middle of Beacon; how much trouble could they really have gotten into?" Pyrrha looked at him, and in that moment, she was sure that they were both thinking the same thing. "Yeah, we should go look for them," Jaune said as she started to rise from his seat. "I'm not sure that Professor Ozpin would approve of that," Blake murmured as she drifted over to their table. With a jerk of her head, she gestured to the headmaster standing by the doorway, a benign smile seeming to be fixed upon his face as he – by the looks of it – attempted to dissuade Yang from leaving the party early. Yang was gesticulating wildly with her arms, but so far, she hadn't just pushed past him and left anyway. Pyrrha pursed her lips together. "I'm sure that the professor has his reasons, even if they're not immediately clear to us." "Probably," Blake agreed. "Although that doesn’t mean that he has good reasons, necessarily." "What if they really are in trouble?” Jaune asked anxiously. Blake’s expression was pensive, her brow furrowed slightly. "I'm going to go to the bathroom," she murmured. She looked at Pyrrha. "Wait two minutes, then go in yourself and meet me outside the window." "Is it empty?" "Cinder’s teammate Emerald went in a little while ago," Blake said. "But that's the advantage of the ladies' room: solid doors." Their plans were interrupted by the tramp, tramp, tramp of marching feet upon stone, the thumping, stomping sound that preceded the arrival of a column of Atlesian troops led by what Pyrrha guessed to be a pair of specialists in blue flight suits with yellow flashes on their collars. The music stopped as the Atlesians entered the ballroom, and all the dancing ceased as well, as everyone on the floor – everyone in the room – went quiet and stared at the new arrivals as they strode in with weapons at the ready. Professor Ozpin seemed, if not nervous, then at the least none too pleased by this intrusion by the forces of Atlas. The genial smile was gone from his face, and he no longer leant upon his cane as he made his way over to one of the two specialists, a woman with red-amber hair in a wild, spiky cut like flames burning on top of her head. “May I ask what you intend by this show of force, specialist?” Professor Ozpin asked. “This is still a school, not an Atlesian military base.” The female specialist glanced at him. “Sir, what’s gone on here tonight should concern you just as much as it concerns us.” She raised her voice. “I’m looking for Emerald Sustrai and Mercury Black of Haven Academy’s Team Clementine. Emerald Sustral and Mercury Black, will someone please identify them?” A murmur ran through the students in the ballroom. “What’s this about?” Yang demanded. “What’s going on?” “If you’re name isn’t Emerald Sustrai or Mercury Black-” “Dammit, I want to know if my sister is okay!” Yang snapped. “Emerald and Mercury both went to the bathroom, a few minutes ago,” Blake said, getting up and stepping away from Pyrrha and Jaune’s table. “They haven’t come out.” The specialist glanced at Blake and might have recognised her; it was hard to tell if the nod she gave was simple acknowledgement or if it had any respect in it. “Soarin’, take the little boys’ room.” “Right,” the male specialist – Soarin’, one could only assume – acknowledged, and a pair of Atlesian soldiers split off from the main group behind each of the two specialists as they both produced their weapons: the woman carried what looked like some kind of flamethrower, judging by the bulging tank of fire dust at one end; the man carried a crimson tower shield and what Pyrrha at first took to be a sword before it transformed into an assault rifle in his hand. The students made way for them – encouraged by the professors, who all moved to in some way shield the students from anything that might be about to happen – as they approached the doors into the two bathrooms, which sat side by side at the far end of the room. They approached, waited outside the doors for a moment, nodded to one another, and then as one, they kicked in the doors and burst into the respective toilets. A moment later, they both emerged, looking disgruntled. “The window was open?” the woman asked. “Yeah,” Soarin’ said. “You?” “The same,” the woman growled. She tapped something in her ear. “General, this is Spitfire. Sustrai and Black aren’t here; they slipped out of the bathroom windows before we arrived. I had Misty and Fleetfoot covering the back, but they didn’t see anything; they must have cleared out before we were set up. We got here too late. Blitz too, sir? They must have known we were coming. Do you want us to do a sweep of the whole grounds? Roger that, sir. Oh, General, one more thing. I’ve got a lot of anxious people here; what should I tell them? Yes, sir, on the double.” The woman who had identified herself as Spitfire cleared her throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, tonight, the CCT tower here in Beacon was attacked by an individual named Cinder Fall,” – a shocked murmur ran through the ballroom, but Spitfire ignored it to continue speaking – “this individual was stopped before she could accomplish any serious damage but managed to evade Atlesian forces and is still at large. Her teammates have also fled before they could be questioned with regards to the extent of their knowledge and involvement.” Murmurs of shock and alarm ran through the crowd – Pyrrha knew from just a glance at Jaune that he had put it all together just as much as she had – but Spitfire didn’t give them a chance to finish. “General Ironwood requests that all students remain here under the protection of these guards while our forces conduct a thorough search of the campus for these fugitives.” “In this instance, I am inclined to agree with the General,” Professor Ozpin said, raising his voice until, like the clouds on an overcast day, it blanketed all the other voices in the ballroom. “Please, ladies and gentlemen, I urge you all to remain calm. I assure you that there is neither cause for alarm nor reason to panic. I apologise for the disruption to what had proven a most entertaining evening, but I promise you are all perfectly safe; I have little doubt that the fugitives have already fled the grounds, but just in case, you will all remain here until the all-clear is sounded, and your professors and I will join our Atlesian allies in standing guard until the school has been thoroughly investigated. Team leaders, please give the names of any of your teammates who are not here to Professor Goodwitch, who will go round them up and bring them back here so that everyone can be accounted for.” “Why should we just stay here?” Yang asked. “We can help! And what about Ruby? You still haven’t told me anything about where my sister is!” “I am sure that you would all be quite willing to assist the investigation at this time, Miss Xiao Long, but it would be imprudent of me to allow students to venture out into the night against an enemy who… might well turn out to be too much for you to handle,” Professor Ozpin said. “It is for the best that you all remain here.” “Not until I know that Ruby’s okay!” “Which one of you is Jaune Arc?” Spitfire demanded. Jaune looked a little uncertain as he got to his feet. “I-I’m Jaune Arc.” “Come with me,” Spitfire said. “We need your semblance.” “What?” Pyrrha asked. “Is someone hurt?” “Is it Ruby?” Yang asked. “No, it’s one of our people, but there is a little Vale kid up there too, I think,” Spitfire said. “Come with me, and you’ll see for yourself.” Rainbow Dash groaned. Her aura was taking a while to come back after it had been broken by Cinder, and even when it did come back, it wouldn’t fix all of these injuries right away. Which meant that she was just going to have to suffer through the pain for a while. There was nothing especially wrong with that – she could handle the pain – what she couldn’t do was handle it quietly. She groaned again, and Twilight let out a little yelp as though she was getting sympathy pains or something. Twilight was the closest to Rainbow Dash as they waited in the wrecked computer room. Penny, Ciel, and Ruby were all standing guard, but Twilight was just sort of lingering there, looking down at the floor and now making noises. Rainbow winced as she sat up a little straighter. “Twi? Are you okay? You told me that she didn’t hurt you, right?” She had thought that she’d been there in time to save Twilight from any real harm; she’d thought that Twi’s aura hadn’t broken. If she’d been wrong about that, if Twilight had gotten hurt… how was she going to live with it? How was she gonna explain it to everyone back home? “Rainbow Dash,” Twilight’s voice was soft and quiet and so pitiable it was mushing up Rainbow’s heart, not that she’d ever admit to that. “I’m sorry.” “'Sorry'?” Rainbow repeated uncomprehendingly. “Come on, Twilight, what do you have to be sorry about?” Twilight looked at her, and Rainbow saw that her eyes were filled with ears. “This is all my fault!” she wailed. “If I hadn’t been here, or if I’d been stronger, then you wouldn’t have had to come rescue me and-” “Hey,” Rainbow said, not unkindly but firmly enough to cut her off. With one hand, she gestured for Twilight to come closer. “Come here.” Twilight blinked. “Huh?” “Just... come here,” Rainbow said. She appreciated the way that nobody else in the room was looking at them; this was going to be hard enough without people staring at them. “It’ll only be for a second.” Twilight looked uncertain, nervous, a little on edge still, but nevertheless, she came closer, stepping around the debris that littered the floor and kneeling down upon that floor next to Rainbow Dash. “Does… does it hurt?” “A little,” Rainbow admitted. “Only for now, though.” “I’m sorry, I-” “Stop saying that,” Rainbow said. “My job – part of my job – is to keep you safe. And I did that tonight.” She wiped away Twi’s tears with one hand. “So what if I took a couple of hits doin’ it? You’re safe. That’s all that matters.” Twilight closed her eyes. “Don’t you ever get tired of having to take care of me?” “Never,” Rainbow said firmly. She put one hand on the back of Twilight’s head and nudged it so that their foreheads were touching. Rainbow closed her eyes too, for a moment. “That’s why it doesn’t matter if you don’t know how to fight someone like Cinder, because you’re my friend, and I will always be there to keep you safe.” 'To each of us falls a task,' that was what Rainbow believed, just like she’d told Yang and Blake; Rainbow didn’t know what Twilight’s task was yet, but she was sure it wasn’t to fight anybody. And if Rainbow’s task turned out to be just keeping Twi safe, well… that was okay by her. “You don’t need to apologise to me; I should be the one saying sorry. I wasn’t there for you when you needed me.” Twilight shook her head, pulling away. “No, you…” She trailed off, but then she smiled. “You were right in the nick of time, just like a hero should be.” Rainbow sniggered, and then winced when the sudden movement caused the pain in her side to flare up. The elevator arrived on their floor and opened with a ding sound that drew every eye. Ciel reacted on instinct, aiming Distant Thunder at the lift as the metal doors slid open. “At ease, Soleil,” General Ironwood said, looking supremely unconcerned about the ridiculously large gun being aimed at him as he strode out of the elevator and into the room that had briefly been a battlefield. “If our enemies do come back, they’ll have to get through Specialist Schnee this time.” Ciel lowered her weapon. “Sorry, sir. I suppose I am a little… on edge.” “Understandable, in the circumstances,” General Ironwood said as he clasped his hands behind his back and walked towards Rainbow Dash and Twilight. Rainbow tried to rise to her feet, gritting her teeth against the pain. “Sir-” “Don’t get up,” General Ironwood instructed. He looked down at Rainbow, and then at Twilight. His voice softened, his tone becoming kind and almost fatherly. “Twilight, are you alright? How are you feeling?” Twilight wiped her eyes with one hand. “I’m… kind of a little shook up, I suppose, but I’m fine, sir, thank you for asking.” “Are you sure?” Ironwood said. “I understand that she had you cornered for a while. I should have provided more security.” “Rainbow Dash arrived quickly enough, sir,” Twilight murmured. “And for that, you have my thanks, and that of Atlas,” General Ironwood said, with a look down at Rainbow Dash. “What about you, Dash? How are you feeling?” Rainbow groaned. “I’m not used to losing, sir, but I’ll live.” She smiled, though a wince of pain got out to ruin it a little. “My pride’s hurt worse than I am.” “If she’s what I’m afraid she is, then you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of,” General Ironwood muttered. Rainbow frowned. “Sir?” “Nothing,” General Ironwood said quickly. He pinched the space between his brows, seeming annoyed at himself. “You did well,” he told her. “You reacted swiftly and decisively, and you performed the first duty of any team leader: to protect your teammates. Yes, the enemy got away, but Twilight lived, and so did you; that’s what matters here, and that’s what makes tonight a victory.” He paused. “But the fact remains that this should never have happened.” “Permission to speak, sir?” Ciel asked. “Granted, Soleil.” “May I enquire as to the status of the criminals?” “Unfortunately, Cinder Fall and all her teammates have escaped or slipped away before we could get to them,” General Ironwood admitted. “We’re searching the campus, but if they’re smart, they’ll have left the school already.” “General, sir,” Twilight said, as she climbed to her feet. “I think Cinder probably wiped all the evidence, although I haven’t checked, but… before she arrived, my trace on the email that she sent just finished… one of the locations that it was routed through to conceal its origin was Draco.” Rainbow’s eyebrows rose. “The dragon continent? But there’s nothing there but grimm! Isn’t there?” “I thought so,” Twilight murmured. “But what if I’m wrong? What if we’re all wrong?” General Ironwood frowned. For a moment, he didn’t say anything at all; he looked as though he was thinking about something. “I believe you, regardless of whether the evidence is still there, and I’ll consider what you’ve told me. In the meantime, I know that you’ve been through a lot tonight, but are you able to work?” “Yes, I am,” Twilight said. “Twi, you don’t have to-” Rainbow began. “Yes, I do,” Twilight said firmly. “You got hurt tonight because I don’t know how to defend myself, because I wasn’t able to stand up to Cinder; you say that I’m not useless, well, okay, but then let me be useful. This is what I know how to do. What do you need, General?” “I want you to do a complete systems diagnostic,” General Ironwood said. “Check everything; Cinder doesn’t seem to have expected you to be here, which means that she came to the tower with other intentions, and I want to find out what those intentions were and how much progress she made with them. Check everything, everywhere, and remove anything dangerous that our guest might have left behind.” “Yes, sir,” Twilight said. She hesitated. “Although… I could use a fresh pair of glasses from my room.” “I’ll have someone bring them over,” Ironwood said. “I don’t want you leaving this room until I give the all-clear. I know I said it’s unlikely that they’re still on the grounds, but I don’t want to take any chances. For that reason, Ciel, Penny, I want you to remain here on guard.” “Yes, sir,” Ciel said. “General,” Penny said softly. “Why would Cinder want to do this? Wasn’t she supposed to be a student, one of us?” “She was never one of us,” Ciel muttered darkly. “Because she wasn’t from Atlas or because she wasn’t a huntress?” Ruby demanded. Ciel was silent for a moment. “Neither would appear to be the case, at present.” “It’s true that Cinder did play the part of a student, as did her teammates,” General Ironwood said. “But it appears likely that that was just a ruse, to gain entry into Beacon for… for some purpose that has yet to be determined.” “But why?” Penny asked again. “She was even friends with Sunset! She helped save Twilight and Ruby and everyone in the forest!” “Ingratiating herself as part of her cover, perhaps,” Ciel suggested. “But why would she betray us all like this now?” Penny demanded. “We don’t know yet, Penny,” Twilight said softly. “Like the General said, it’s yet to be determined.” “I wish that I could tell you more,” General Ironwood declared. “Really, Penny, I do, and that goes for all of you here. But for now, I have to ask you to trust me and stand guard until I tell you otherwise.” “What about me?” Ruby asked. “Miss Rose, you’re not under my command,” General Ironwood said, “but I would take it as a favour to me if you would stay also. Your teammates will be up shortly.” Ruby nodded. “You can rely on me, sir.” Her scroll began to buzz. Ruby laughed nervously. “That’s probably just my sister…” she murmured as she pulled out the scroll from behind her. “Ah! It’s Sunset!” Sunset could half see the tower from where she stood, in the shadow and the shade of the trees that stood in the Beacon courtyard, with the dirt around it scuffing her feet as she hid under the leaves from the moonlight that might otherwise have illuminated her presence and location. She didn’t want to be seen right now, not by anyone. Hence why she had skulked off after her fight with Cinder and hidden, sort of, in a place where she could see the tower but where she was pretty sure that nobody up in the tower could see her. She’d revealed herself to the Atlesian soldiers and huntsmen searching the grounds, because she wasn’t that stupid, but she didn’t want Ruby, Jaune, or Pyrrha or Team RSPT to see her. She didn’t want to see them because she hated them, all those interfering- Sunset shuddered. She didn’t want to see them because of stuff like that. She wasn’t sure that she could keep it all inside. She didn’t really want to call Ruby either, but she knew that if she didn’t do anything, then they’d probably come looking for her, and she certainly didn’t want that. So, as she looked up at the tower from her sort-of hiding place, Sunset took out her scroll with trembling hands and selected Ruby from her address book. She called voice-only, so that she didn’t have to see Ruby’s face and feel… whatever it was that Cinder felt about her. “Sunset!” Ruby cried, her voice emerging loudly from out of the scroll. “Are you okay?” “Yeah,” Sunset lied. “Yeah, I’m fine.” “Where are you?” “It doesn’t matter.” “What do you mean 'it doesn’t matter'? You just-” “I said it doesn’t matter, which means that it shouldn’t concern you!” Sunset snapped. She scowled, at herself. “I’m sorry, Ruby, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to… I’m just a little… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” “Sunset…are you sure you’re okay?” Ruby asked, her voice suffused with concern. “I told you I was fine.” “I know,” Ruby replied. “But you don’t sound it.” “I…” Sunset hesitated. “I’m just a little high strung after… you know.” Ruby was quiet for a moment. “She got away, didn’t she?” Sunset made a noise that was not quite a word. “I couldn’t stop her.” “Well, neither did we, so don’t beat yourself up about it,” Ruby said. “Twilight’s safe, and she’s checking out the computers now, and at least we know that she’s a bad guy now, so everyone will be looking for her, so it’s not like she got away clean or anything.” Ruby paused. “You liked her, didn’t you?” Or was it seeing my reflection in the mirror that I liked? “She… Ruby, is it okay if I say that I don’t want to talk about this right now?” “I guess,” Ruby said. “Just… you know that you can talk to me, right? I’m sure that you can talk to all of us, but, if you want to, you can talk to me.” Sunset couldn’t help but smile, if only for a moment. “Yeah, I know. Listen, do you know where Jaune and Pyrrha are?” She shuddered at the unexpected venom which she put into Pyrrha’s name. She hated her. Of all the warriors loved by the gods, I hate her the most. No. No, I don’t; that’s Cinder. She hates Pyrrha, not me. I don’t hate her… that’s why I can’t risk being around her right now. Cinder’s emotions boiled like an angry sea inside of Sunset’s soul. Thinking about the things – the people – that made Cinder mad was enough to get Sunset mad in turn; it didn’t matter that Sunset knew Pyrrha better than Cinder ever would, it didn’t matter that Sunset understood all the things that Cinder had so angrily misconstrued about who and what Pyrrha was, it didn’t matter that Pyrrha was one of Sunset’s best friends; right now, just thinking about her was starting to make Sunset furious. She didn’t know what she’d say, what she’d do if she saw her. She had to stay away until she could get a grip on this. “No,” Ruby said. “But I think they’re on their way up here. They’re going to want to know that you’re okay.” “Tell them I’m fine,” Sunset said. “But tell them… tell them I won’t be coming home tonight.” Ruby was silent for a moment. “Sunset, where are you? What’s going on?” “Nothing,” Sunset insisted. “I’ve just… facing Cinder… I’ve got some stuff to think about. Things to sort through in my head. So… don’t worry when I’m not back tonight. Tell them that, will you?” “Sure,” Ruby said softly. “Sunset… if something’s wrong, you know we’re all here for you, right?” “Yeah,” Sunset said quickly. “Yeah, I know. Goodnight, Ruby. I’ll see you around.” She snapped the scroll shut and put it away. We’re all here for you. But I don’t know if I can be here for you right now. I don’t know how safe it is for me to be around you all right now. I don’t know when I’m going to get a grip on this. It was the sort of thing that she might have spoken to Twilight about – Princess Twilight was someone about whom Cinder had no opinion to interfere with Sunset’s own attitudes – except that the journal was up in her room, and she couldn’t go back to get it without risking running into somebody that she didn’t want to see. So much hatred, so much contempt, so much venom in everything that she thought about everyone. She hated Pyrrha, she despised Jaune, she wanted Ruby dead, but – for whatever it might be worth – it wasn’t as personal as her desire to accomplish Pyrrha’s destruction was. Blake was vermin in her eyes. Rainbow Dash was a blustering oaf who deserved to see her world burn before her eyes before she died, and Cinder’s general contempt was only heightened by the sense that she had been responsible for tonight’s failure. She wanted Twilight to burn. Yang’s smile had infuriated her, Nora’s laughter made her want to rip the girl’s tongue out of her throat, Weiss was emblematic of everything that she reviled about the world. Sunset herself… Sunset was the only one that Cinder didn’t either dislike or hold in contempt. That was the worst thing of all, to be honest. Sunset could have stood to know that her enemy didn’t like her very much, but instead… instead, she liked her. She had actually liked her. That hadn’t been a lie. Cinder’s own emotions confirmed it. She’d thought that they could be friends, for a while, until Cinder had to kill her… because they were so alike. What am I going to do? Sunset sighed and ran one hand through her hair as she looked up at the uncaring moon above her. Won’t someone please tell me what I should do? The sky was cloudless, and Cinder could see the moon hanging above her without interruption. The moon and all the stars as well. They shone bright above, uncaring of Cinder’s plight, heedless of the fact that she had been exposed for the serpent she was, forced to fly from Beacon a wanted fugitive. She had loved the sight of them once, but now… now she found them cold and cruel, the witnesses of her failure. Failure. Yes, she had failed. It was a bitter draught, made all the more bitter because it was so novel to her. Cinder Fall was not used to failure. Failure, defeat, flight, these were things that happened to someone else, to a different girl, younger and more foolish in every respect. The girl into whose heart Sunset had seen, the girl whose past had been laid bare to her. I am not she, and she is not me. What Sunset saw was the past of someone dead, the last echoes of a ghost. That girl burned to death in the fire, just the same as Philonoe and Lady Kommenos. I am not her, and she is not me. I am Cinder Fall, and I do not fail. And yet she had failed. It was the first time. Even her prior setback had been at least a partial success, but this… this had been an unmitigated disaster. They knew who she was, and she and her followers had had to fly from Beacon one step ahead of the Atlesian forces; while it was not guaranteed that they would discover the virus she had planted in the CCT, Cinder would not bet against the fact, which meant that they could not rely on turning the strength of Atlas against them. When the blow fell, they would find all the guns of Atlas waiting and ready to oppose them. Meddling daughters of the north. Self-righteous self-appointed defenders of the world. Of all the warriors at Beacon, Cinder detested Pyrrha the most, that vain and foolish princess, but as a group, there was none that drew her ire more than the daughters of the north who walked so proud, who talked so bold, who thought that they could go wither they would, do what they would, order all things as they would without reference to anyone but themselves. They thought themselves so powerful and, in their power, so secure. But Cinder meant to show them what true power looked like and how their technological prowess of which they were so proud paled by comparison. But how? Yes, how? How was she to proceed now? How was she to explain this setback to her mistress? I am not without advantages, even now. She still had the White Fang force massing under Adam’s command; she still had all the dust that Torchwick had acquired for her; the anvil may have been shattered, but the hammer remained intact. But what good was a hammer without an anvil? It could shatter glass, but it would no more than dent steel. I must be an alchemist then, and turn steel into glass that it may be broken. As she began to consider how that might be accomplished, Cinder felt a smile spread across her face. Yes. Yes, that was a way, if Salem would permit it. The resources existed to have it so. Yes, that would do. This was not the end. She was not yet defeated. Her scroll went off. Cinder wondered if she should, perhaps, have gotten rid of it; she had thought it untraceable, thanks to the efforts of Doctor Watts, but evidently, it was not so. Twilight Sparkle had found a way to breach his many layers of security, even if it had taken her the processing power of the CCT to do it. Yes, she should certainly dispose of this, but it was a good thing that she had waited until after she had had this conversation. Not that was glad to see that Sweetie Drops was calling – in fact, Cinder rolled her eyes at the identity of her caller – but she supposed she ought to answer. There was some slim chance that the idiot had something worth hearing. Nevertheless, Cinder didn’t bother to keep the irritation out of her voice as she answered. “What?” she demanded. “Did they make you?” Bon Bon asked, hissing anxiously into her scroll. “Everyone’s saying that you attacked the CCT! Did they make you?” The call was voice only, but Cinder almost wished that Bon Bon could see the look of seething disgust, teeth clenched, eyes smouldering, upon her face. “The operation was not as successful as might have been hoped for.” “Don’t give me that crap-” “Watch your tongue,” Cinder growled. “I am still the appointed leader of this operation. You are tasked with serving and obeying me.” “Appointed by who?” Bon Bon demanded. “Wait, never mind, I don’t want to know. Where are you?” “That’s not something you need to know, any more than you need to know whom I serve,” Cinder informed her sharply. “I need to know where you are so that I can join you!” “No,” Cinder said coldly. “You don’t.” “I do, what if they-” “If they even suspected your involvement with me, you wouldn’t be at liberty to make this call,” Cinder told her. “Your cover is blown, the mission is done, you need to extract me-” “DO NOT TELL ME WHAT I NEED TO DO!” Cinder roared into her scroll. “I DO NOT TAKE INSTRUCTION FROM YOU, YOU STUPID INCOMPETENT DEADWEIGHT! YOU HAVE BEEN PRACTICALLY USELESS TO ME SINCE YOU ARRIVED AT BEACON!” She took a deep breath, mastering herself. “But you have an opportunity to redeem yourself and serve me better from now on. Let me clear up what seems to be your misconception: this mission is not over. I am not finished. Certainly, I am not defeated. This is a setback, but one from which I will recover and rise in glory greater than my enemies can imagine. You are, once more, my eyes at Beacon. So you will go to Twilight Sparkle and her friends and tell her that her near death has given you a new perspective on things, you will apologise for all your quarrels, and you will beg their forgiveness. They, being… such performatively good people, will accept your apology and welcome you with open arms. And you will tell me everything. And you’d better make a better job of this than you did the last time I set you a similar task…” Cinder trailed off; she considered pointing out that if Sweetie Drops didn’t do a better job of it this time, then she, Cinder, might not be able to guarantee the safety of her teammates… but in her present state, such a threat might seem ridiculous and could weaken her position rather than strengthening it. “Or somebody will find out that we are connected. Do you understand?” Bon Bon was silent on the other end of the scroll for a moment. “Yes,” she said tersely. “Good,” Cinder said sharply. “I’ll be disposing of this device soon; I will contact you again at my discretion. Make sure you have something to report when I do.” Bon Bon sighed. “Yes, Cinder.” Bon Bon hung up and threw the scroll down onto the bathroom floor where she proceeded to flip Cinder off with both hands. She then proceeded to bury her face in both hands. How did I get myself into this? She had wanted to change the world. She had looked with envy at Rainbow Dash and Twilight Sparkle – General Ironwood’s protégé, the genius prodigy – she had seen the way that their accomplishments, their promise, their status, drew others to them like two lights guiding ships into harbour. She had envied that. She had wanted that for herself. She might have done better to admit that she simply didn’t have the talent for it and made her peace with something more ordinary. Instead… instead, she had gorged on the flattery of Doctor Watts, little suspecting there would be a moment when the bill came due. “Who is he?” “That hardly matters, does it? After all, he won’t be with us for much longer.” Bon Bon got up off the toilet and stood in front of the sink, running the hot water over her hands. It was scalding hot, but it did nothing to wash the blood off, no matter how hard she scrubbed at them. To Cinder, she was an incompetent fool, but to everyone else if the truth came out, she would be a criminal. A murderer. At best, a pathetic object of pity. She would not suffer that. She didn’t want Lyra to see her that way. There was a knock on the door. “Bon Bon?” Lyra asked. “Are you okay in there?” No, Lyra, I’m not okay. I’m trapped in the iron maiden of my bad choices. Things were spiralling way out of control. What was going to happen now? She had no idea; she just knew that she wasn’t going to be getting out of this any time soon. “Bon Bon?” Lyra called again. Bon Bon turned and scooped up her scroll off the floor as she walked towards the door. She opened it with an apologetic smile. “Sorry,” she said. “Do you want to use the bathroom?” “Are you okay?” Lyra repeated. Bon Bon sighed. “No,” she admitted. “I can’t… I can’t believe this. A traitor, living among us.” “You mean another one?” Sky asked from the back of the room. “I think…” Bon Bon hesitated, but if she was to fulfil Cinder’s new instructions then burying the hatchet with Blake would be a necessity. Rainbow wouldn’t give her a second look until she did. “I think it’s time that we admitted that we were too hard on Blake. After all, it wasn’t Blake who attacked the CCT tonight. In fact… I’m starting to wonder if the release of that stuff about Blake wasn’t a smokescreen, a deliberate attempt to make everyone look at Blake with suspicion to draw attention away from… the real enemies.” “Maybe,” Sky allowed. “But that Haven girl, I’m sure I’ve seen her hanging around with Sunset a lot; how do we know they’re not all in on it together?” “'All'?” Dove asked. “How do we define 'all'? Are you suggesting that Ruby Rose is a traitor to humanity?” Sky hesitated. “Just because she seems nice-” “I will not pretend to know her well, but I think I know her a little better than you,” Dove declared, “and I think I know her well enough to say that she possesses the heart of a true huntress, and while I cannot say the same for Sunset Shimmer, she loves her teammates well. I cannot think she would betray them, and I cannot think that they would betray all that Beacon stands for.” “Nor would Dash or Twilight,” Bon Bon said. “Frankly, all things considered, it’s going to be a while before I start pointing fingers again.” Lyra nodded. “I wonder why they did it, those Haven students. I mean, most of them were human, weren’t they? So they couldn’t be White Fang. Do you think they were grimm cultists?” “Aren’t they just a bunch of crazies?” Sky asked. Lyra turned around to look at him. “But what if they weren’t?” “We can’t know the answer,” Bon Bon said. “And, with luck, we never will, because we’ll never see them again.” If only that were true. Cinder heard the doors out onto the balcony creak behind her. A slight gesture of her head, a swift glance behind her, told her that it was Emerald standing in the doorway. “Is there something I can help you with, Emerald?” Emerald folded her arms and looked down at the balcony boards beneath her feet. “Mercury and Lightning, they… they want to know what happens now?” Cinder smirked. “Mercury and Lightning. But not you?” Emerald shifted uncomfortably. “I… I know you have a plan to turn this around.” Cinder chuckled. “Such trust.” Emerald hesitated. “Cinder, are… are you okay?” “Are you concerned about my wellbeing, Emerald?” Cinder asked, amusement in her voice. “It’s just that, after tonight… I mean, I know that it hasn’t gone the way you would have wanted,” Emerald murmured. “How… how do you…?” Cinder heard Emerald’s footsteps on the wooden boards as she approached. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Emerald’s hand reaching out for hers. “It’s okay to-” Cinder jerked away before Emerald could touch her. “Stop,” she commanded, her voice cold and hard. “Do not presume that I am so discomfited by this that I require your pity or your comfort.” “'Pity'?” Emerald repeated, taking a step backwards, away from Cinder. “No, that’s not-” “Then what?” Cinder demanded. “Do you think me weak? Do you think me lost?” “No.” “Then what?” Cinder snapped. Emerald looked away. “I just… I just wanted you to know that it’s okay.” “'Okay'?” Cinder repeated, a bitter laugh rising from her throat. “'Okay'? Our cover has been exposed, my virus stands under threat of discovery, the eyes of the Emerald Tower see as clearly as they ever did, and all the strength of the North remains arrayed against us; all of my plans for this night have been undone; how then, is this okay, you stupid girl?” She raised her hand, and Emerald cowered before the blow. “Please,” she whimpered, covering her face with her arms. Cinder paused, her hand seeming to stick in the air as though it were crystallised. 'Please,' the foolish little girl had begged. 'Please don’t, please stop, please don’t hurt me. ' And Phoebe had paid no heed to all her pleading. Slowly, Cinder lowered her hand. “I… I am sorry, Emerald,” she murmured. She did not really know where this sudden impulse towards mercy had come from, but she felt it nonetheless: the urge to be better, to be lordly and generous, to be a gentlemare… what an odd word, she knew not where it had come from. “Forgive me. I… I am out of sorts tonight.” Emerald lowered her arms and once more looked on Cinder’s face. “That… that’s fine, Cinder; that was all I was trying to say. It… it’s fine if you’re not fine. After the night you’ve had, no one would blame you.” “I am not sure Mercury or Lightning will be so forgiving,” Cinder murmured. “But I will speak to them and raise their spirits, ere I make account for this night to my mistress. Where are they?” “In the dining room,” Emerald said. “Um, Cinder?” “Something else?” Emerald swallowed. “Our… our hosts, they… there’s a girl; they’ve got her… she’s tied up.” “These people are disciples of the dark,” Cinder informed her. “They worship the dark powers that manifest as Creatures of Grimm; some such merely hope to be spared death at the hands of those powers, while others covet such power for themselves. Did you imagine that the worship of darkness was done without deeds of darkness?” Emerald whispered. “What will they do to her?” “Sacrifice her, most likely,” Cinder replied, “to the Ideal of the Grimm.” Emerald winced. “You disapprove?” Cinder asked. “I… who is she?” Emerald asked quietly. “A child of the streets, probably,” Cinder said. “A nobody.” The house in which they had taken refuge was a large one, considering its place out beyond the Red Line, in the more vulnerable part of Vale. Most families with the means to afford such a house would have found shelter on the right side of the walls, but this family had chosen to establish themselves here, in the danger zone, where for the most part, only Vale’s poorer residents were to be found. Of course, these parts of Vale were less well policed, and more to the point, there were a lot of people here whom no one would miss. “So was I, before I met you,” Emerald murmured. “We are the guests here, Emerald,” Cinder reminded her. “It is not for us to dictate the behaviour of our hosts. Besides, if we were to let her go, she might bring the authorities down upon us. Speaking of which.” She squeezed her scroll in her hand, crushing the device into a twisted, ruined, useless mass. “Come,” she declared. “Let us go.” Emerald fell in behind her as Cinder strode off the balcony and into the dark and shadowy house; most of the lights were off, but Cinder could find her way easily enough; she could see as well in darkness as any faunus could, one of the many advantages that she had acquired as a result of the joining. She had been purged of many of her human weaknesses. And of course, it had given her a way into this house, this sanctuary for the night. She was all that their hosts hoped to become. Said hosts met her as she was descending the staircase, the two of them standing side by side, the husband looking proud and the wife apprehensive. They had even put on their best clothes for her, as if she were some sort of civic dignitary coming for tea. They were fools, as all such cultists were, if they thought that a few black masses muttered before an altar or some discrete murders would protect them from the wrath of the grimm, but they were useful fools to her, at present. Or at least… they had been. “You servants have been fed and watered, apostle,” the man declared. “They await your presence in the dining room.” “Good,” Cinder said. “I thank you both for your hospitality. Rest assured, your good services will not go unrewarded.” “Your good graces are all that we require, apostle,” declared the wife. “Your presence is a sign that we are not forgotten by the darkness,” the husband said. “We would be honoured, apostle, if you would join us tonight for mass and partake with us in the body and the blood.” Cinder felt Emerald tense up. Why? The sacrifice these useful idiots had acquired was no part of their company. Why should she care about the fate of one she did not know? And, what with Cinder and the rest having taken refuge here, it really was better that she die with all her knowledge. “I am afraid there will be no mass tonight,” Cinder said. “I require your shrine for my own private communion.” The husband looked surprised to hear it, but he said. “O-of course. As you wish.” “And I require a scroll of you,” Cinder said. “My own has become… unusable.” “You may take mine, and gladly,” the wife promised. “Good,” Cinder said. “Furthermore, my companions and I will also be taking your vehicle in the morning; we have a long journey before us and canot afford to rely on our feet.” “Everything that we have is at your disposal, blessed one,” the wife declared. “I am delighted to hear it, and so is that great darkness which we all serve,” Cinder told them, in a tone as soothing as her lies. She smiled thinly. “Your services will not be forgotten, I guarantee,” she promised, to they whose names she had already forgotten. Or should it be that she had never bothered to remember. Nevertheless, the empty words seemed to gratify the two of them, and they left her in peace at that point to continue her way into the dining room, where Mercury and Lightning Dust were waiting for her. Lightning had her feet up on the table, staining the fancy dining cloth; Mercury was gnawing on a chicken leg. “I see that you’ve changed out of your suit,” Cinder observed, noting that Mercury was back in his combat attire. “You’re welcome that he had something to change into,” Lightning said. It was she who had brought their weapons and their gear away from Beacon when they had been forced to flee at such short notice. “Thank you, Lightning, for doing your job,” Cinder said sharply. Lightning smirked. “It’s as well somebody did their job properly tonight, huh?” Cinder sucked in a sharp intake of breath and reminded herself that this was not the moment to start murdering her own minions. “Tonight is a setback, true,” she said, “but one from which we will recover.” Mercury swallowed. “How?” “Our goals remain the same,” Cinder declared. “Our ultimate objective remains the same. We will obtain the crown and the powers of the Fall Maiden-” “For you?” Lightning asked. “For me,” Cinder confirmed. “And for my mistress.” “Right,” Lightning murmured. Cinder stared into her eyes. The powers of a Maiden were, as the name suggested, only for women. That meant that Mercury could get no ideas above his station, as it were, and Emerald… Cinder had no suspicions regarding Emerald’s loyalty, but Lightning Dust… if any of her group were to betray her, it would be Lightning Dust. She had already seen it once; upon the road, there had been a moment when Lightning had been tempted to administer the coup de grâce herself. For now, her understanding that Cinder was the stronger of the two of them outweighed her greed and lust for power, but if that balance should shift… If it came to blows, Cinder was prepared and confident in the inevitable outcome. For the moment, however, Lightning was more valuable to her alive than dead. “Once again,” Mercury said. “How?” “Cinder has a plan,” Emerald insisted. “Cinder’s plan is why we’re in this mess!” Mercury snapped. “This isn’t just a minor setback-” “All setbacks are minor, provided they do not alter the outcome,” Cinder declared. “And the confusion of the night may have blinded you all to the fact that we have lost very little and still have much. Not least our lives, our strength, and ourselves.” Lightning snorted. “Are you going to tell us that when we work together we can do anything?” Cinder chuckled. “And why not? Are we not strong? Are we not resolved? Are we not fierce and fire-hardened by adversity?” She looked around the room. The thief, the butcher, the bandit. “Have we not known the cruelty of the world? Have we not been named outcast and unclean by it, banished from the society of these corrupt and iniquitous kingdoms, condemned to lead lives less than beasts, for even animals are fed and cared for and even pampered by those who are set over them? “We have been less than that; we have had no one to care for us, no one to rely on but ourselves, and has it not made us strong?! We have that strength, still. Yes, our enemies are numerous, their skills are considerable, and their power is great, but they have not known the chill winds that we have endured. What do they know of hardship, those spoiled children up at Beacon, those Atlesians in love with their own ingenuity, these men of Vale grown soft in their complacency? They have not felt what we have felt, have not endured as we have endured; they are soft, and the fires which hardened us shall consume them when we visit the flames upon them and upon this whole wretched kingdom of Vale! “We shall do as I always intended that we should do: spread discord, set friend against friend, make old enemies of new allies, set all the swords of men against one another and then…” She smiled. “And then unleash my mistress’ creatures to devour them all. And we shall do it because we have been strengthened by adversity. We have been cast out, accounted worthless, ground down beneath the boot of the world’s callousness, but it is because we have been counted worthless that we have the strength to overthrow great empires, topple the towers of the high, and cast the lords of men down from their lofty seats!” She looked at them, and she could see her words striking home. Lightning and Mercury might affect a cynicism about the world, a carelessness to its doings, but if that had truly been so, she never would have reached out to them. They were of use to her because, in some way, they thought as she did. They, like her, desired to show the world how foolish it had been to cast them from its midst. “Stay with me,” she urged. “Trust in me. And together, I vow that great things will yet lie before us.” “We’re with you, Cinder,” Emerald vowed. “All the way.” Lightning nodded. “Let’s burn this place to the ground.” Mercury grinned. “I’ve come this far, I guess. No sense backing out now.” “Indeed,” Cinder said. “Lightning, did you retrieve the Seer?” “Yes, and you’re welcome to it,” Lightning said, picking up a black sack off the floor and dumping it on the table. “It gives me the creeps.” “Is it awake?” Cinder asked. “I hope not,” Lightning muttered. Cinder carried the sack into the shrine, a dark-enshrouded chamber where a grey beowolf carved of stone snarled above a wooden altar carved with lurid, monstrous images. It all had rather a performative air about it, children playing at darkness and evil. Of course, their play was not without its teeth, as shown by the victim of whom Emerald was so concerned, but all the same… a secret place of worship, human sacrifice, offerings to some nebulous idea of darkness and destruction… and then, the next day, you went to work and bought a cup of coffee on the way to the office and made sympathetic noises when your colleagues complained about the commute. None of this worship, this faith, required them to change in any other way the way in which they lived their lives. They made sacrifices, but they did not make sacrifices; none were required of them by the absent focus of their worship. How unlike the truth behind the myths, who asked much, yes, but who promised much and delivered much in turn. Although there was no true power in it, nevertheless, Cinder laid the sack upon the altar and took a step backwards from it. She opened the bag, and the seer emerged. It had no eyes; it appeared at first glance to be some sort of sphere of glass – either coloured dark or filled with some murky opaque liquid – standing upon legs fashioned after teeth. But the crusting in places of plates of bone betrayed the truth of it, and as Cinder waited, a golden light began to shine out of the dark depths, and the seer rose into the air as fleshy tentacles tipped with points of bleached white bone descended from the base of it. Nothing yet was visible but the light; nevertheless, as the grimm hovered in the air, Cinder could feel herself being watched, weighed, and judged. She dropped to one knee. “Mistress.” Cinder’s head was bowed, so she did not see the face of Salem appear within the seer, but she did hear her mistress’ voice echoing out from the creature and into the cellar, caressing her with a maternal gentleness. “Cinder,” Salem said. “I gather that you have some ill news to bring me.” Cinder took a breath. “How much do you know, mistress?” “Whether I know everything or nothing should be of no concern to you,” Salem replied. “Tell me all, regardless.” Salem, she was sure, would know if she lied, and so she said, “I have been… defeated, Mistress.” How bitter that word was to say. “At first, everything went according to plan; I easily despatched the guards Ironwood had set around the tower. However…” “Go on,” Salem urged. “I had not known that there would be someone else in the tower besides the guards,” Cinder said. “One of Ironwood’s pet protégés. She has broken the encryptions used to protect the message I had sent regarding Blake Belladonna’s past and identified me as the source. She… she may also know that the signal bounced through Draco.” “I see,” Salem murmured, her tone inscrutable. “Is there a reason you did not simply kill her and let her take her knowledge to the grave?” “I tried,” Cinder said. “That was my first move after inserting the virus into the CCT. But she summoned an ally to protect her, and although I was victorious in battle, more of their comrades arrived, and I… I was forced to retreat.” “You mean to flee,” Salem corrected her. “I cannot imagine that you are still at Beacon.” “No,” Cinder confessed. “My followers and I were forced to abandon the school and evade the Atlesian forces. We have taken refuge-” “Where you have fled to is irrelevant, so long as you are safe,” Salem said. “Are you safe, Cinder?” “We are, Mistress,” Cinder said. “For now, at least.” There was a moment of silence, broken by Salem’s sighing. “Oh, Cinder. I confess that I am… disappointed.” Cinder closed her eyes, flinching away from the word. “I… I am sorry.” “'Sorry' hardly makes up for such complete incompetence,” the lugubrious voice of Doctor Watts emerged from out of the seer. “You have been exposed; my virus will soon follow-” “That is not certain,” Cinder insisted. “But it is likely,” Watts insisted. “Why, you have even put our own location in jeopardy.” “That was not my doing,” Cinder replied, her voice sharpening. Doctor Watts was not Salem, and she would not be spoken too in such a fashion by a mere equal. “You’re the one whose encryptions could be broken by a child!” “And you are one who insisted on using them in such a petty fashion,” Watts said, contemptuously. “Was it worth it, for all that it has cost us?” “Don’t be so gloomy, Arthur,” Salem said, her voice even and calm. “As yet, it has cost us little or nothing.” “But ma’am, if James-” “Ozpin is already well aware of where to find me, if he wishes to do so,” Salem declared, causing Cinder to wonder if that fact was as new to Watts as it was to her. “And Ozpin knows that even if he mustered every huntsman in Remnant, he would not have the strength to reach me here. This land belongs wholly to the grimm… and to me. Our enemy is too well aware of this to trouble us in our own home again.” Again? Cinder kept her expression neutral, with just a hint of contrition. It would do no good if Salem believed that she sought to pry into secrets that were not hers. “You are right, of course, ma’am,” Watts said. “But nevertheless, the fact remains that Cinder’s incompetence has put all of our efforts in Vale in grave jeopardy.” Cinder growled. “Mistress, I assure you that I will do and deliver all that I have promised you. Vale will fall, Ozpin will die, the relic will be yours, and I will become your Fall Maiden.” “Your confidence is admirable,” Salem said. “But how do you propose to accomplish all of this with your cover at Beacon blown and your true loyalties revealed?” “At first light, I will join the White Fang forces mustering to the southeast, and accelerate the timetable of our assault,” Cinder said. “There is no point in waiting until the Vytal Festival now.” “Do you still believe that such an attack can succeed?” Watts demanded. “I believe that it will give me what I need, a new means to spread discord between the defenders of Vale,” Cinder declared. “To which end, Mistress, I request the services of the Sirens to help spread anger and uncertainty.” Salem was silent for a moment. “For now, you may have one single Siren, the one who calls herself Sonata. The other two shall remain here as hostages for her continued obedience. That may change later, but for now… proceed with the rest of your plans.” “Thank you, Mistress, I will.” “You have been confounded tonight,” Salem said. “But even I have endured failures in the course of my life. What matters is not that you have failed, but how you respond to that failure. Pick yourself up, understand why you were defeated, and in that knowledge, grow stronger.” “Yes, Mistress,” Cinder replied. “I guarantee, I shall not fail you again.”