SAPR

by Scipio Smith

Stealth Sunset (New)

Stealth Sunset

Sunset looked up.

Beacon was as far off as honour from where she stood, perched on top of the Allbright Commission building, overlooking — partly, at least — Valish Military Headquarters, but she could still see the Emerald Tower; at least, she could now that it was starting to go dark, and the lights that gave the tower its name and its distinctive green glow were lit. They were, well, they were a beacon in the darkening sky, a sign that the school was still there, though Sunset wasn’t.

She was as far from Beacon as she was from … Ruby’s good graces, or Jaune’s, but she could see Beacon still, as the emerald lights came on.

She could see the Amity Arena too, if she looked that way. It was far off as well, as far away as Beacon, farther perhaps, if only by a little bit by virtue of its greater height. It was easier to see than Beacon in the day; while you might miss the top of a tall but comparatively narrow tower, there was no way that you could miss that great floating colosseum, but like the tower, it was illuminated as the darkness closed around it. And yet, there was still enough light — and moonlight — that Sunset could see not only the Amity Arena but also the Atlesian airships close by, and the Valish airship that was — Sunset thought, although her eyes might have been deceiving her into believing that a stationary vessel was moving slowly — trundling along in that direction.

And she could see something else too. She could see dark shapes flitting around the arena, much too far away to make out in any detail, but … dark shapes. Dark shapes, and green beams cutting through the sky.

Sunset stared. She stared although she couldn’t do anything, although she couldn’t see anything, although standing there on the roof of this building and just watching would neither give her more insight nor calm her fears, but nevertheless, she stared for a moment and then a moment more as her stomach knotted.

Is it the grimm? Has it started?

Are they attacking the Amity Arena?

Cinder hadn’t mentioned that part, she had only spoken generally of an attack on Vale, but Sunset supposed that the Amity Arena was in Vale, so … although there were no signs of a grimm attack anywhere else. No sirens had sounded, no grimm over Sunset’s own head, no sounds of massed gunfire coming from far off, just … silence. It was all quiet.

But she could see something around the Amity Colosseum, and she feared what it might be.

She clenched her left hand into a fist as she got out her scroll with her right. She checked the news, because that was all she could do at this point, so far from events, so far from influence, so far from any ability to act.

All she could do was look at her scroll and hope that it could tell her what was happening.

The grimm were attacking Amity. Pyrrha had just won the Vytal Tournament — oh! What news! What should-have-been wonderful news! What news that should have been a cause for joyous celebration! What news that had been rendered stale, flat, and unprofitable in Sunset’s sight by the fact that the grimm were attacking Amity Arena — when the grimm had suddenly attacked, a horde — no, be technical, a host of grimm; a horde was something different altogether — a host of flying grimm had risen up out of the Emerald Forest and assailed the arena. The Atlesians were trying to fight them off, but already…

Sunset swallowed. Already, some of them had entered the arena. They had been dealt with, but how many more might follow if the Atlesian defence did not hold?

Sunset wanted to howl in frustration. She wanted to howl at the broken moon like a dog, she wanted to scowl and growl and stamp her foot and tear at her fiery hair, this was so unfair! She threw her scroll down in frustration, letting it bounce across the roof to the edge of the building. So unfair!

Why did the grimm have to attack now? Why did they have to attack tonight, at this moment, in Pyrrha’s moment? In what should have been Pyrrha’s moment, anyway. This should have been her moment, her night, her victory, her glory, her chance. Her chance to … to celebrate, to be the Vytal Champion, to receive her mother’s heartfelt congratulations on having reached the pinnacle, to endure the acclaim of all Mistral, to be kissed by Jaune and congratulated by Penny and…

And hugged by Sunset. She ought to have been there. She ought to have been there for this. She ought to have been there to hug Pyrrha, to congratulate her … to fight off the grimm with her.

Amity Arena was under attack, her team, her friends were on Amity Arena, her team and her friends were under attack, and where, oh, where was Sunset?

Far off. Too far.

So unfair.

Sunset sank down to her knees, gloved hands upon her face, gradually moving upwards through her bangs and into her hair and pushing her ears backwards and down. She breathed in and out.

She breathed in again, more deeply this time.

I wonder, does Ciel feel better because she can pray? Does it feel wonderful to just take all your worries and offload them onto someone else’s shoulders with a few words? Does it void her out of all her troubles?

Probably not, but it must help a little bit, or why bother?

For myself … if I cannot find comfort, then I must find meaning.

Sunset rose to her feet and held out one hand; a green light enveloped the white glove as she summoned her scroll back into her hand — it didn’t look damaged, or at least, not severely — and snapped it shut.

She couldn’t help Pyrrha and the others up in Amity. She was too far away, and Amity too high in the air, and in any case, not everyone would want her help even if she was in a position to usefully offer it. At this point, Ruby would probably rather die than accept aid from Sunset. She couldn’t help them; she could only trust to their skill and to the capability of General Ironwood’s much-vaunted Atlesian pilots.

After all the boasting done on their behalf, Rainbow, I expect some results.

For herself … well … Sunset looked down upon the Military Headquarters. If she couldn’t help her friends, maybe she could at least help Vale.

Cinder had been right about the grimm attack — although … had she? The grimm weren’t attacking Vale, after all, only the Amity Arena. Sunset double-checked that quickly, though it meant opening her scroll back up again. Reports of a grimm attack on Amity, yes, Sunset could see that from here, if only vaguely. But nothing else. Nothing about the grimm attacking anywhere else in Vale, nothing about hordes throwing themselves against the Green Line. Now, admittedly, there hadn’t been any mention of the hordes beforehand, but a horde attacking was surely harder to ignore than a horde that was being quiescent and only exercising a vague menace by the mere fact of its presence.

And Sunset couldn’t hear the gunfire. Surely, if the grimm were attacking, then she would hear the cannons, the missiles, the explosions, the sheer mass of noise that would come from resisting the grimm; surely, she would see the Atlesian warships firing down into the grimm on the ground?

She didn’t. She could only see the grimm attacking the Amity Arena.

Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that Cinder was lying, as much as it would have been a relief to dismiss a lot more of what had come out of Cinder’s mouth last night — Celestia, had it only been last night? It felt like another year already — since, after all, whoever was running the show now could have changed their plans in the face of Cinder’s capture. And a full scale grimm assault might yet come, just not yet.

Which gave Sunset time, because if Cinder wasn’t lying, then there was a good chance there was a Siren down there, and Sunset needed to find her and deal with her if she could.

She had not dispelled the spell that she had cast earlier to muffle her hearing; she had decided that she wouldn’t use it until she was closer to the Siren; until then, she might appreciate the use of her ears — to, for example, hear people talking about a Siren. It was a risk; if the Siren got the drop on her, then she might use her powers on Sunset before Sunset could react, but it was a calculated risk, and one that Sunset hoped to mitigate by her other spell that rendered her beneath notice.

You couldn’t ambush someone you didn’t notice was there, after all.

Sunset checked that Soteria was tightly strapped across her back. She shrugged Sol Invictus off her shoulder, holding it by the barrel in her right hand.

If she could find the Siren quickly enough, then maybe … maybe … it would probably not be enough to stop the grimm attack, but she could perhaps stop the Valish? Perhaps. She would do something. She hoped it would do something.

She had to hope that, for it was all she could do.

Sunset walked to the edge of the room, looking down over the Military Headquarters. Her decision to go in was vindicated ever more by the preparations that she observed to deal with the grimm attack on the Amity Colosseum.

There were no preparations. To which you could perhaps say that there was that ship nearby, and that there was nothing that ground troops could do, and this, that, and the other thing, but the fact remained that there were grimm in the skies over Beacon, and hordes more grimm — and Sunset was using that word quite correctly in this instance — and nobody in the heart of the Valish Defence Forces seemed to be concerned. Nobody was mustering, nobody was rushing here or there to direct the defence, the only thing that anyone at all seemed to be prepared to defend was their own headquarters, with the barricades that they had set up and the tanks they had brought in, and a fat lot of good that was going to be to anyone at Amity or anywhere else. It was hard to be sure because of its sloth, but Sunset thought that the battleship bought from the Mistralians was heading this way too, not going to join the fighting around the arena but moving to park itself over Valish Headquarters.

If Sunset had been feeling charitable, she might have thought that the plan was to make the headquarters a place that people could flee to in the worst case scenario.

If she had been feeling less charitable, and hadn’t known better, she might have suspected self-interest at work on the part of General Blackthorn; he was making sure that he was protected first and foremost.

But Sunset did know better, and what she knew or suspected did not make her inclined to charity, so she believed — or feared, at least — that this was all in preparation for something nastier to come.

Or at the least, as a means of ensuring that nobody could get close enough to stop what was about to happen.

Nobody but a magical unicorn who could bypass all those defences and then move about without being noticed.

Wish me luck, everyone.

Sunset teleported.

It was a good thing that she’d already cast the spell to divert attention off her, because otherwise, her appearing in the middle of the courtyard with a loud crack and a flash of green light might have rather drawn attention to herself.

Thankfully, for all that she just appeared in the middle of the courtyard, that was not the case. Nobody seemed to bat an eye. The few people — a mixture of uniformed officers and civilians in suits — kept on moving as though she wasn’t there at all, though Sunset made sure to scramble out of their way before any of them walked into her.

Sunset felt very fortunate that this place had a courtyard so that she could see where she was teleporting.

She looked around her surroundings; the courtyard looked much the same as it had looked from above when she’d been studying it, but now that she was actually inside, she could see that it was surrounded on all four sides by colonnades, where flat and featureless concrete columns created shadowy areas before the actual building itself. Guards in green, with black berets and white cockades sticking out of their cap badges, stood in the shadows of the colonnade, but none of them marked Sunset.

There were four doors, glass doors, each one — judging by the woman in the grey suit that Sunset saw entering one of them — requiring an ID card to enter, which was held up to a scanner on the grey concrete wall.

It was fortunate for Sunset that the doors were glass; otherwise, she would have been forced to try and tailgate someone; as it was, she crept across the courtyard — yes, she was concealing herself with a magic spell, but that was no reason to make as much noise as a herd of elephants when she could try and be quiet instead — towards western door, chosen at random because, unfortunately, she had no real idea what the inside of this building was like. She stepped lightly past the guards, who didn’t notice; they remained standing before the concrete columns, their boxy Valish rifles at the ready for anyone who was less well-concealed than Sunset.

Sunset — after first making sure that there was no one coming up behind her, because this spell had its limits, and somebody physically colliding with her was one of them — pressed her face up against the glass of the door and looked inside. There was another guard inside and another glass door, set into a glass wall, with a scanning device that looked more sophisticated than just ‘hold up your ID badge or your scroll to get in’ mounted beside the door. It looked like a retinal scanner to her. Well, with another glass door — thank goodness for that particular aesthetic — that wouldn’t be much of a problem for her either, although she couldn’t see much of what lay beyond that second door.

Still, the fact that there was another layer of security meant that … well, it might mean that the whole building was this secure, or it might mean that this was the especially secure part of it.

Either way, she had to go in somewhere.

Sunset teleported twice, the first carrying her beyond the first door and into the antechamber and then past the second door and into … a corridor. A corridor leading somewhere, but Sunset didn’t know where.

Because she didn’t know where she was going.

Step one then: find a map, or some schematics, or something that would tell her where she was and where she needed to go. Once she had the layout of the place in her head, then she could have a guess at where she might find the Siren. Sunset believed that if the Siren was here, then she would be close to the centre of events, with General Blackthorn, where she could influence him to direct the battle to come. If she could find the heart of this building, then she could find the Siren.

If not … perhaps she could capture General Blackthorn and force him to tell her where the Siren was.

We’ll save that for a last resort, but I won’t dismiss the idea.

Sunset looked around. She was hoping for a map on the wall of this grey corridor, but there wasn’t one; the walls were bare, in the same way that the lights were dim; everything seemed to have been done to make this place seem as grim and forbidding as possible; it was like a horror game. She half expected a monster to walk around the corner.

There was a heavy thud, like the footsteps of something very large.

And then another, and then another, thudding steps coming from somewhere nearby, coming from the corridor that, Sunset could see even in this lack of light, intersected with her own.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Coming closer and closer, much too heavy sounding to be even the largest of men.

Sunset had no idea what it was; she didn’t really want to wait around and find out if it her spell would work on … whatever it was; she thought it might be a robot of some kind — some Starhead Industries robotic gorilla maybe — and she was reasonably certain that her spell would be completely ineffective against it.

So she would have to hide. She couldn’t go sideways — this was a one-way corridor — but there were doors ahead on either side of her. Sunset ran down the corridor; she was the only person who could hear her own feet squeaking and slapping on the tiles. She reached the first door — door 1WA according to the sign — and looked through the window to see that it was an office, with rows of desks set up with monitors, keyboards, mice, and not much else.

It would do, as the sound of whatever was making that noise got closer and closer.

Sunset threw open the door and hurled herself inside — she couldn’t teleport everywhere, not if she wanted to have some magic left to confront the Siren — crouching down by the wall, beneath the window, as she listened to the sound get closer.

“Who opened the door?”

“What are you asking me for? I’m sitting right here.”

“I know, but someone opened it.”

“I don’t see anyone.”

Sunset prodded the door closed with one foot.

“Huh. Maybe there’s something wrong with the hinge. I’ll raise a maintenance ticket.”

“That’ll be dealt with next month, then.”

“They fixed the leak in the ceiling the same day I reported it.”

“We’ll see.”

Sunset waited, listening. She could hear the thudding sound grow closer and grow closer … and then nothing. A momentary silence, broken only by the sound of fingers tapping upon keys here in this office.

Sunset wasn’t sure what it was out there, but she could imagine it — and it was a lot of things in her mind, including a grimm, however unlikely that might be — waiting, looking around.

Then she heard the thud again, and again, and this time, it was moving away from her, doing its rounds.

Watchdogs, of whatever kind. Something to bear in mind. I can’t assume that I have the absolute free run of this place just because of my magic.

Sunset rose to her feet. The office in which she stood was half-empty, or more than half actually. Maybe everyone was working from home? Maybe they’d all been sent home because their boss was planning to start a war.

But of the people who were still here — a mixture of men in shirts and ties and women in blouses and skirts or trouser suits — it was weird how calm they were. There were grimm attacking the Amity Arena, the Valish Defence Force might be about to start a fight with the Atlesian forces, there were hordes of grimm camped outside of Vale, and here these people were, just sitting at their desks, typing away like it was any other day.

They didn’t look scared or exhilarated; they were almost blank-faced, staring ahead of them, not looking at one another.

It was weird, and ever so slightly unsettling. Sunset was glad of the coffee cups that she could see on a couple of people’s desks; it showed that they were still somewhat alive.

“Do you think it’s started yet?”

“Soon. Those Atlesian scum will get what’s coming to them.”

Were you this charming before the Siren got her voice in your ears? Sunset wondered.

“I wish I could get out there and do my part.”

“We all have a part to play.”

“But I’d like to see their faces as we take back what’s ours.”

You’re not even likely to see the bullet that kills you, Sunset thought as she stalked around the room, wishing that she didn’t have to listen to all of this. She wouldn’t have to listen to it for very long, if luck was on her side, but just listening to it at all was making her ears ache. She would dearly like to know if these people were this stupid before they heard the Siren song or not; did they really think that they were going to win this fight? Did they think that this was going to end well for Vale? Didn’t they realise that they should be doing everything they could to stop this, not looking longingly forward to its beginning? Didn’t they have any sense at all?

No, because they’re under the malign influence of a magical creature.

Sunset moved around the edges of the room, heading towards the back of the room where there was one guy working on his own, with no one sitting on either side of him, and no one sitting behind him either.

Perfect.

Sunset crept up behind him and pointed her finger at the back of his neck like a gun. The burst of magic that leapt from her fingertip was exceedingly mild — she didn’t want to blow his head off, after all — but it was enough to make him jerk like a charge had just been run through his body, before he lolled forward.

Sunset grabbed him by the head before it could slam down into his keyboard so that his coworkers noticed, and pulled him back so that he was leaning against his chair, his head thrown back.

Sunset rolled the chair backwards and out of the way before she leaned Sol Invictus against the desk and bent down over the — open, importantly, and not password-protected — terminal.

She grabbed the mouse with one hand and ran it this way and that, looking for something that looked promising. She needed to find a map, a floor plan, something…

She noticed that on the top of the man’s ScheeSoft TeamWork app was a row of options: notebook, files, calendar … desk booking.

That might be no good, but it’s worth checking out, Sunset thought as she clicked on the icon.

She was confronted with a list of floors and different teams: Procurement, Human Resources, Data Governance, Third-Party Management, Non-Military Strategic Planning, Strategic Planning, Intelligence and Analysis. That one was in red, which Sunset thought indicated which team these bored-looking office drones were on. That would explain the security on the door to get into the corridor.

If she had a look around here, then maybe she could find the Valish battle plans.

No. She needed to focus on the Siren. That’s what she was here for. If she were to indulge her inner Rainbow Dash or Blake for a second, then there was no battle plan the Valish Defence Force could come up with that General Ironwood couldn’t defeat with the sheer power of the egotism and exceptionalism of his students, but perhaps only she could take on the Siren.

She turned her attention to the floors that were available — and, more importantly, those that were not. It seemed that this guy, whoever he was, had access to the floor below this one, but not to the ones further down; they were greyed out, unavailable. There were three floors underground, below floor minus one, and they were all above his proverbial paygrade — or his actual paygrade.

Her search was narrowing.

So everything important is underground, huh? That was somewhat counterintuitive to her — power should be high up, in the air, literally set above and apart from the common herd — but she supposed it made sense as a protection from air attack.

And if everything important is underground, then maybe the most important things are the furthest underground. Unfortunately, the desk booking system wasn’t a lot of help in working that out.

She typed ‘floor plan’ into the search bar. There were no results. Sunset scowled. She supposed that she could always just go down to those forbidden floors and take a look around until she found what she was looking for, but she’d rather not if she could avoid it.

She thought. There had to be some way of getting some confirmation.

She typed ‘General Blackthorn’ into the search bar.

The first result was a round-robin message sent today.

In view of the impending commencement of Operation Strikeback, all small arms lockers will be opened by the Master at Arms from 1600 hours today (October 18^th). In the event of an Atlesian assault, all personnel are reminded that they have a responsibility to arm themselves and participate in the defence, regardless of whether they are military or civilian. We’re all Valish, and we all signed up to do our part to defend this kingdom. If there are no weapons available in the lockers, take a weapon from a dead Atlesian. If there are no dead Atlesians, improvise a weapon from whatever you can find and kill an Atlesian. No excuses for cowardice or malingering will be tolerated.

General Blackthorn expects that everyone will do their duty.

Vale will rise from the ashes!

Captain Jasmine Cahill, Royal Fusiliers

Aide de Camp to General Blackthorn

Sub Level 3

Sunset smiled. I think we might have a winner. Thank you, Captain Cahill.

Just to be sure, she typed ‘Sub Level 3’ into the search bar.

Apologies to all colleagues, but the dining hall on the ground floor is closed for the next two weeks for refurbishment. Alternative facilities can be found on Level 2 East, Level 1 North, Level 3 West, and Sub Level 1. Staff are reminded that Sub Levels 2 and 3, including the dining hall, are off limits to unauthorised personnel.

Yeah. Yeah, I definitely think we’ve got a winner there. Sub Level 3 it is.

Now I just need to get down there.

She still didn’t have a map, but once she made it down to the bottom floor, then hopefully, it would be a relatively simple matter of finding her way around.

There might even be signs.

Sunset left the man lolled in his chair and crept back to the door out of the room. She waited, listening for the heavy, thudding footsteps of whatever it was that she had heard before.

Nothing. Nothing but the tap, tap, tap of keys on the keyboard.

Sunset opened the door and slipped out.

“Seriously, what is up with that door?”

Sunset darted down the corridor, her equine ears pricked up for any sound, but she didn’t hear any heavy footsteps, nor did she see anything that looked capable of making them, only men and women, some soldiers, some not, and not very many of either of them.

There was an elevator at the end of the corridor, and very luckily for her, a soldier — an officer, judging by the pips on his shoulders — was going inside.

Sunset pelted down the corridor the last few steps, just managing to squeeze in after and alongside the man before the lift door closed behind him.

He pushed the button for Sub Level Two; Sunset wanted the floor after that, but she didn’t push that button; if this officer had his wits about him, then he might find it strange, the button for the next floor down just pushing itself. She would wait until he got out, and then she would go down the last floor on her own.

Assuming that nobody else got in while he was down there.

She shuffled to the back of the lift and kept silent, watching the officer as the lift began to descend.

Down into the bowels of Remnant.

Sunset supposed that they would be protected from bombs or missiles here; the Atlesians would have to root them out, descending down underground to fight the Valish — having first fought all of the people who had taken up arms for the glory of Vale, grabbing guns out of the open lockers or … what? Attacking the Atlesians with scissors and staplers if the Atlesians came?

Sunset would wonder what they were thinking, but she had a feeling that she could answer that: the Siren was thinking that the more bloodshed, the better.

After all, they did like to start fights.

The elevator reached Sub Level Two. Sunset held her breath a little, hoping that nobody would want to get in and go to a different floor.

The door opened. Sunset cursed mentally as she saw someone else waiting outside, another officer, with a crown on their shoulder instead of pips.

“Evening, Torrens,” he said jovially.

“Evening, sir,” Torrens said, not saluting for some reason; maybe it was because he wasn’t wearing a hat.

“Here to join the planning session?” the other officer asked. He chuckled. “I don’t think there’s much need for a ground plan. These northerners don’t have the stomach for a street fight, no.” He shook his head. “Too much time spent in the air with their head in the clouds, no guts, Torrens, no steel! They’re like bullies, Torrens; punch ‘em on the nose once, and they’ll show what they’re really made of.”

“Yes, sir,” Torrens said. “Excuse me, sir.”

The senior officer got out of the way, allowing Torrens to step out of the lift. Sunset couldn’t help but roll her eyes as the other man — heavyset, with piggy eyes hidden behind his round spectacles — got in.

Fortunately, he pushed the button for Sub Level Three.

Sunset gripped the barrel of Sol Invictus tightly with both hands as she felt a fluttering in her stomach. If she was right, then it would not be long now.

Not long until … she didn’t actually have a lot of solo combat experience. On her own, she had fought Adam twice — Twilight didn’t count in the first instance, and Blake had only shown up later. In neither instance had she done terribly well, although she had done better the second time around. Nevertheless, her record on her own, without any support, was not a brilliant one.

In fact, one might call it rather troubling.

And this was no ordinary opponent that she’d come up against.

No, but she isn’t Adam either. Not a warrior, not a huntress, not someone trained to fight and kill. A creature of magic, and I have magic of my own at my command.

I can do this. I don’t need Pyrrha or Blake or Rainbow Dash to help me, to back me up, I can do this.

I can take these soldiers, and then it’s just a question of magic.

And yet, the fluttering in her stomach persisted, no matter how tightly she gripped the barrel of her gun.

The elevator descended. It made more of a noise than the one at Beacon; it looked dirtier as well; Sunset wondered how well maintained it was.

She wondered if she should have taken the stairs.

The door opened. Sunset let the officer get out first, then followed him before the doors shut on her. The hallway into which she stepped looked even darker than the corridors upstairs, as though it was policy that the Headquarters should get darker, more foreboding, the further down into the ground one got. There were barely any lights on at all, and those that were on had dead flies in the casings, their mouldering bodies little dark shapes against the white lights, like the grimm that swooped and dived around the Amity Arena, as seen from Sunset’s distant vantage point.

She found herself a little glad that the lights were off; she didn’t want to see too much that reminded her of what her friends were going through out there.

And a good thing too, because most of the lights were off, and most of the corridors were dark, and Sunset came very close to needing her night vision spell.

As it was, she could just about see where she was going and avoid people — or follow them.

There were no signs, but most of the people that Sunset saw — they were all soldiers down here, all wearing the green VDF uniforms, not a single civilian to be seen — were heading in one direction, where they were not standing on guard. So Sunset followed them and hoped that they weren’t headed for the cafeteria.

They were not headed for the cafeteria. They were coming in and out of a command centre, an underground command centre where people stared at monitors and worked at computers and observed and … well, commanded.

General Blackthorn stood in the centre of things, issuing orders, watching monitors. And at his side stood a girl, or someone who looked like a girl, at any rate; Sunset guessed that she was far older than she looked, for she was almost certainly the Siren. She gave General Blackthorn his orders, this girl with the blue hair — a lighter blue, with deeper streaks running all through it — worn in that long ponytail, the girl with the purple shirt and the high boots and the spiked bracelets on her wrists. Either this was Take Your Daughter to Work Day, or else she was the Siren. She was the one that Sunset had come here for.

And behind her stood Cinder Fall.

Sunset stared at her. Cinder, here? Cinder was here, Cinder was … Cinder?

But she was taken—

Oh. Right. Of course.

On the one hand, she felt like an idiot for not seeing this sooner, but on the other hand, why? Cinder would never serve the Siren: Cinder felt usurped, Cinder felt betrayed, Cinder had given them information … hadn’t she? Yes, some of it had been false — the stuff about Amber — but if Cinder had been lying all along, waiting for her brainwashed friends in the Valish Defence Force to get her out of her jam, then why tell them about the Siren or that the Valish military had been corrupted? Why tell them anything at all?

Why, for that matter, launch a forlorn assault on Amber that had never stood much more than a fool’s chance of success? Why not simply wait and get on with her plan?

Cinder’s actions made no sense except from the perspective of, well, they didn’t make a huge amount of sense from any angle, but from the perspective of someone with a finely honed sense of the dramatic and a deep cultural and personal attachment to The Mistraliad, Sunset could see why they might choose to go out in a blaze of glory, making a doomed charge like the Mistralians charging down the hill to try and rescue Juturna. Or Pyrrha, charging in all her wrath to try and kill Juturna, no matter how many foes stood in her way.

But it only made any sense at all if Cinder had felt betrayed, if she had seen her whole world crumble around her, if she felt as though she had nothing left to lose.

Otherwise, why risk it? It wasn’t a trick to get her interrogated so that she could plant false intelligence; not only might she have actually died — if it had been Ruby closest to her instead of Pyrrha, then Cinder would be dead by now — but she had told them the truth about the Valish military! And the Siren! The proof was right there!

But if she had been speaking from the heart to Sunset and Pyrrha, if she felt ill-used and cast aside and in no mood to keep confidences, then…

Then the Siren has gotten to her.

That was … that was horrible. A horrible thought, a terrible thought, a dread thought; it was the only thought, the only thing that made sense, yet it was a thought and thing from which Sunset’s mind revolted. Cinder, brainwashed? Cinder, made a slave to the will of another? Cinder, not herself, Cinder a tool, Cinder a puppet, Cinder … Cinder no longer, just a dog to be ordered about: go thither, come hither, bite them. Kill them.

After what Cinder had been through, after what she had suffered at the hands of Phoebe, this would be the last thing that she would want to endure.

And Cinder … Cinder’s designs had been wicked sometimes, her victims often undeserving, her plans … worth preventing, and yet, she had, even while acting under Salem’s orders, nevertheless been herself. Gloriously, unabashedly, fearlessly herself. Though her cause be the worst cause for which anyone had ever fought for, nevertheless, Cinder had fought for it like a lion though four kingdoms and the power of Atlas stood against her. By her own will, she had done all that, however wrong or misguided it had been; by her own will, which had blazed like fire.

Now, that fire was tamed, that will subverted, suborned, bent to another’s will, and that … better Cinder had died last night, at Pyrrha’s hands, better to have cut her throat on the ground, better to have let Ruby slit her stem to stern with Crescent Rose, even that would have been preferable to see her like this, made a slave.

A slave against whom Sunset would have to fight, before she could come to grips with the Siren.

Now had Sunset cause for flutterings in the stomach. To fight Cinder? Alone? To fight Cinder without any of her friends with her, nothing but her own wits and her own power, against Cinder? Cinder and a Siren?

How was she going to do this? Could she do this?

I’ve come a long way to just go.

And Professor Ozpin asked me to take care of this. I promised that I would try. That I’d try, not that I’d run away because I’m scared of Cinder.

And, hey, maybe if Cinder kills me, then Ruby will think better of me and take back some of her harsh words.

If I am going to do this, I should probably start by muffling my ears.

But before she could — just before she could; the spell was on Sunset’s fingertips — Sunset’s ears pricked up as she heard the Siren begin to sniff the air.

She sniffed like a hound, standing on her tiptoes as though it were bringing her closer to the scent.

"What's wrong?" General Blackthorn asked her.

"I don't…" the Siren murmured in a high-pitched voice, not quite so high as Ruby’s voice, but higher than Sunset had expected nonetheless. She looked … in the direction of the corner around which Sunset lurked.

Sunset held breath. Could the Siren sense her? Could she pierce Sunset’s magic, could she notice her in spite of Sunset’s magic telling her to look away, to turn her attentions somewhere else? Was it Sunset’s very magic itself — Equestrian magic, nourishing to a Siren — that the Siren sensed. Had Sunset outed herself with her spell of concealment?

"Cinder," the Siren said, "will you be a sweetheart and go check that out for me?" She pointed down the corridor in Sunset’s direction. "I think there might be someone hiding down there, listening."

Sunset swallowed. It seemed that the choice of whether and how to begin this battle had been made for her.

She rose to her feet. Her left hand glowed with magic as Sunset gathered her power.

"At once, Mistress," Cinder said quietly.

Mistress. She makes you call her Mistress?

Cinder, I am so sorry.

Sunset was no longer looking around the corner; she was standing behind it, waiting. She could hear footsteps, light footsteps approaching, Cinder’s footsteps coming towards her.

Sunset would begin with a burst of magic at point black range, so close that Cinder couldn’t block it; then she would shoot her while she was on the ground, and then … then, she would try and keep Cinder at a distance, using telekinesis to guide both gun and sword while she sought to get at the Siren.

Assuming that Cinder could see her. It might be that the spell would work on Cinder, and only the Siren was aware of her.

Cinder rounded the corridor. In one hand, she bore a black sword, which managed to glisten even in the little light down here. It looked hungry, like a shark or a wolf that had not fed.

Around Cinder’s neck, she wore an atrocious collar, her black choker in its elegant simplicity gone and replaced by a chunky collar, with beastly brutish spikes and a padlock on the front of all things, sweet Celestia! To see Cinder reduced to such a state … Sunset wished that she could spare more regret for Cinder, that her own situation would allow her the regret to spare.

As things stood, she was a little more concerned with the fact that Cinder was staring right at her.

Sunset felt seen. She would bet anything, anything that she owned in the world, even Soteria or her magic book, anything that Cinder could see her; she felt seen.

Yet, Cinder said nothing. Did nothing. She just stared at her.

“Cinder?” Sunset whispered.

Cinder’s lips twisted in a scowl.

“Cinder?” Sunset repeated. “Can you hear me in there?”

Cinder stared at her, lips scowling, teeth almost bared, looking at Sunset as though she, Cinder, were the lion and Sunset were the lamb, as though she wanted to rip out Sunset’s throat.

She twitched her eye in Sunset’s direction. Or rather … was that a wink? Was she winking at Sunset?

"Cinder?" the Siren called.

Cinder turned away from Sunset to look at she who held her captive. "There is nothing here, Mistress. Nothing and no one."

"Okay, I don't know where that came from then," the Siren muttered.

Sunset breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” she whispered, for this was proof that Cinder’s will was not wholly overthrown, that there was some part of her that was yet Cinder; now, if only Sunset could persuade her to—

"You know,” the Siren said, “Councillor Emerald has been squawking at you once already; you might want to send someone over to shut him up before he causes any problems."

Sunset’s breath caught in her throat. Councillor Emerald? Shut up Councillor Emerald? They were going to—

"Of course," Blackthorn said. "I'll have him taken care of."

No. No, no, no, no, no! Yes, Sunset had promised that she would take care of the Siren, and she would! She would come back here, and she would deal with her and with Cinder if she had to — if she could not save Cinder, that was. But Sunset was, or wished to be, a saver rather than a destroyer. She was more comfortable saving than destroying, and while there was something to be said for stepping out of your comfort zone, there was also a great deal to be said for saving people’s lives.

Especially when that life happened to belong to the First Councillor of Vale. And a father too. Father to a son who had already lost his mother, poor mite.

And he was just about to get things moving with Former Councillor Aris to boot. No, no, Sunset could not let Councillor Emerald die.

Certainly, she wasn’t going to hang around here and pick a fight with Cinder and the Siren while the Councillor was in danger.

“I will come back for you,” Sunset said to Cinder. “I promise.”

Cinder didn’t reply. Sunset supposed that she couldn’t reply, not with the Siren so close, and in any case, she didn’t have time to wait for a response. She turned away and ran.

She ran back the way that she had come; she ran for the elevator, pounding at the button with one hand before she decided to take a risk and teleport somewhere that she couldn’t see: up to the office where she had been before, where she had knocked that one guy out and left everyone wondering about the door.

The guy was still out cold. No one had noticed. They were still working away, and would probably still be working away until the moment came to take up arms from the small arms lockers.

Sunset teleported twice more, once past the first door, once past the second and into the courtyard, and finally back up onto the roof of the Allbright Commission where she’d started from.

She felt … better now, strangely. She knew what she had to do: protect someone, save someone. Save Councillor Emerald for his son, for the woman who cared about him, for Vale which needed a leader now more than ever.

So much easier than hunting a monster to destroy them.

Sunset looked towards the Amity Colosseum once more, to where the Valish ship was taking fire from an Atlesian cruiser.

It’s started then.

Besides that, she could still see the grimm flocking around the arena, locked in battle with the Atlesian pilots.

Be safe, everyone.

Sunset descended via the fire escape, her boots clattering on the metal steps as she took them two at a time, three at a time, leaping some sections to drop onto the landings with heavy bangs; she ran and ran down the length of the building, teleporting short distances, trying to balance haste with preserving the magic that she would surely have need of.

Her bike was waiting for her at the bottom of the fire escape. Sunset pulled on her helmet, dropping the visor down over her face, and slung Sol Invictus over her shoulder as she leapt onto her trusty motorcycle and revved it up.

Within moments, she was speeding down the road.

The streets were clear, for obvious reasons; everyone had been watching the Vytal Tournament, and while in ordinary circumstances, Sunset guessed that a lot of people would have spilled out into the streets to celebrate and join the general revelry by now, the fact that immediately after the tournament was over, the grimm had started to attack was — Sunset guessed, and thought her guess borne out by the silence of the streets — keeping people indoors. Even the pubs she passed were silent, with only light spilling out of them and little sound. Sunset could picture people in her mind’s eye, huddled around the television sets, watching the news, wondering what it might mean, consumed with fear.

How the grimm beyond the walls must be salivating with anticipation.

But the streets were clear, meaning that Sunset’s path was unobstructed. She had come this way before, after a certain point; she knew where she was going. She’d been here before, after all.

She reached the street of the First Councillor’s residence. There was a green truck parked out there, and for a moment, Sunset was afraid that she was already too late. But no, as she came up, she could see one man — their officer, she thought — unlocking the door, while the rest of his soldiers dismounted from the back of the truck.

Sunset skidded to a halt, throwing one foot out to slow the movement of her bike as she twisted it around. The tires screeched on the tarmac.

Sunset dropped her spell. Everyone could notice her now.

And notice her they did as she hit their sergeant with a bolt of magic that lifted him up and hurled him twelve feet backwards down the street.

Some of the soldiers shouted in alarm, and most of them started shooting at her, or tried to, but magic leapt from Sunset’s fingertips, beams of magic flying out in all directions even as she — indulging, a little bit, but they were shooting at her — teleported from spot to spot — six feet in this direction, eight feet in that one, onto the top of their truck — to throw their aims off. She used telekinesis to wrench the guns out of their hands and throw them aside.

And green beams of magic leapt from her fingertips to strike the soldiers down, leaving them sprawled out across the street, completely out of it.

Sunset leapt down off the roof of the truck as she heard someone from inside — the officer, she could only suppose — calling out to his men, demanding to know what was going on.

Before Sunset could go in, the officer came out, or at least came out far enough that Sunset could see him.

He had a gun, but Sunset tore it from his hand with a touch of her telekinesis.

Then she put him down with a bolt of magic.

Councillor Emerald stared at her as she stepped through the open doorway.

Sunset raised her visor. "Good evening, First Councillor," she said. "I hope I'm not too late."

Councillor Emerald looked down at the unconscious officer on the floor. "Good evening, Miss Shimmer," he said. "I think you may be in the nick of time."

Sunset ventured a smile as she took off her helmet. “I’m glad to hear it, First Councillor. I wouldn’t have refused being earlier, but … I’m glad to find you well. And your son?”

“Bramble is upstairs, asleep I hope,” Councillor Emerald said softly. “So long as the gunfire didn’t wake him. There were soldiers outside, I take it?”

“There still are, just not in any state to trouble anyone,” Sunset replied.

“I see,” Councillor Emerald said softly. He paused for a moment. “How did you know? To come here, I mean?”

“I…” Sunset hesitated for a moment, “I have been in Valish Headquarters, Councillor. I overheard them talking about … shutting you up.”

“God of Animals,” Councillor Emerald muttered, putting up one hand as he leaned against the wall. “So it’s true. Blackthorn did order this.”

“It’s—” Sunset stopped, aware that simply saying that it wasn’t his fault would likely cut little ice. “Councillor, what I’m about to tell you may seem unbelievable, but it’s the truth: General Blackthorn’s mind has been overthrown by a magical creature that thrives on conflict; she is directing him to fight against the Atlesians; he wouldn’t be doing this if he were in his right mind.”

Councillor Emerald was silent for a moment. “A magical creature?”

“Called a Siren, yes.”

Councillor Emerald stared at her. “Now, why would you think that I wouldn’t believe that, Miss Shimmer?”

“I know what it sounds like,” Sunset declared, “but you’ve known General Blackthorn for some time, haven't you? Is this the behaviour that you would expect from him?”

“No,” Councillor Emerald replied. “No, it isn’t.” He frowned. “You say that you were at Military Headquarters?”

“Yes, Councillor.”

“Doing what?”

“Looking for the Siren, Councillor,” Sunset said softly.

“And did you find her?”

“I … thought it was better to come here and save you, Councillor,” Sunset said, even more quietly.

“And if you hadn’t?” Councillor Emerald asked, equally quietly. “Could you have stopped this?”

“Councillor, it’s one thing to say that I should have chosen to sacrifice the few for the sake of the many,” Sunset replied. “It’s another thing to say that I should sacrifice the few or the many or the one to destroy one of my enemies. That … I won’t apologise for the choice I made. Vale needs you, so does Bramble, and Former Councillor Aris … wants you, at least. I made my choice, and I stand by it.”

Councillor Emerald hesitated for a second, and then nodded. “That is fair enough, Miss Shimmer. And I can’t say that I’m not grateful. But now I’m afraid that I must ask you to accompany me back to the Military Headquarters. Magical creature or not, I need to do what I can to stop this before it gets out of hand.”

Sunset’s eyebrows rose. “Councillor, I’ve been to the Military Headquarters: they’ve got barricades set up outside, troops, tanks; I don’t think they want visitors.”

“And yet you’ve been there,” Councillor Emerald pointed out.

“I have … certain skills that you don’t,” Sunset replied. “Especially if you mean to do more than sneak around; if you want to stop the fighting, that will mean confronting … it will be dangerous.”

“If it wasn’t dangerous, Miss Shimmer, I wouldn’t need your protection,” Councillor Emerald pointed out.

“That is … Councillor, I’m not sure who will listen to you. As I said, their wills are not their own.”

“A creature, yes,” Councillor Emerald said. “That part I’m happy to leave to you — monster hunting is what you’ve been learning, after all — but if Blackthorn and the others aren’t thinking clearly, then it is all the more important that someone should be there to take command once they emerge from … being controlled. They might not be in any state to think clearly.” He took a step towards her. “I’ve no doubt that there will be danger, Miss Shimmer,, but nevertheless … I owe Vale this. As you say, I am the First Councillor of Vale, and if Vale does need me, then she needs me to act, not hide or sit in this house waiting for news. I need to do something.”

“I know that feeling well enough, Councillor,” Sunset admitted. “Very well. We’ll go together.”

“At once, if you don’t mind,” Councillor Emerald said. “I’m ready. I was on my way out when this gentleman … yes, as I say, I’m ready.”

Sunset’s brow furrowed. “You don’t want to say goodbye to—”

“Why would I want to say goodbye to Bramble?” Councillor Emerald. “I’ll be back before he wakes up.”

Sunset found herself smiling. “Alright, Councillor, let’s go. We’ll take my bike; there’s room for two.”

“Very well, Miss Shimmer,” Councillor Emerald said. “I doubt we’ve a moment to lose.”

Comments

[AngelicTitan]

The first Sunset-centric chapter in a while, and what a chapter it was! I love how the crumbles of Sunset’s spells on the first chapters are being brought back here to showcase how versatile she can be, and her inner monologue about how she never really was able to win a battle without support, and now she is without it at the most important of times makes everything feels much more real now.
I like how she feels so much for Cinder and seems to immediately wants to save her but her duty of a protector that she self-proposed to herself after the Breach makes her take a detour; it seems Emerald and Sunset will invade the Valish HQ and will more than likely cross paths with Winter and her squad; that will be a hell of a duo to see. I am just excited to see a true battle between Sunset and Cinder and see Sonata suffer Justice. I am still a little apprehensive about where and how Ruby will fit into all of this and who will find her, after all, the most important person for the Fall is still unaccounted for and her betrayal a mystery: Amber.
Waiting anxiously for next chapter!

[Stet709]

Seems Cinder is resisting Sonata's control quite well. I wonder if it's like jedi mind tricks, it works well on the weak-minded, but those with strong mind and will can resist.

And now Sunset has a more immediate objective: protect Councilor Emerald.

Though I have to wonder, couldn't Sunset have just said the Siren was a girl with a powerful mind-controlling semblance? I doubt Professor Ozpin would approve Sunset revealing that the Siren was magical, despite him trusting her.

[AngelicTitan]

11841242
She could, but I think Sunset is a little tired of having so much secrets and Sonata is more of a “Equestrian Secret” than a Remnant one, so Sunset has more jurisdiction there than Ozpin. She seems to have gained a bit of trust with Emerald, and seems to not want to maintain secrets with him considering how keeping one ended up with her alone and with no support.

[Mastermind4892]

I have little more to say other than outstanding work, Sunset! You're stepping up just as much as Rainbow Dash is, your fellow Team Leader! Forget mere medals, the Council and all of Vale will owe you a debt after this for stopping Blackthorn.

That inversion of the Want-It-Need-It spell is proving absolutely invaluable! As horrible as all the other details of the night will be, Princess Twilight will want to know everything about Sunset's little innovation!

[Kiue Jin]

So Cinder isn't as under the thrall of Sonata as Sonata believes her to be... but when the assault on Sonata begins, I doubt Cinder will be able to resist the command to fight the Ace Ops.

I actually believe that the reason Cinder can resist on Sunset's behalf is because Cinder... doesn't hate Sunset. In fact, I believe she might love her to some degree. Anyone else however is fair game.

[Luviere]

A few things to say about this chapter.

1. Boy am i glad to have a Sunset chapter after a while. Sunset is such a sweetheart.
2. While Cinder can resist Sonata's control to some degree, how was she able to see Sunset? I'm pretty sure Sonata managed to sense something because of her ability to sense magic like Sunset has, but Cinder, while having magic of her own, shouldn't be able to see Sunset. First, it's because Cinder's magic is more focused on battle then anything else, and second because Equestrian magic and Remnant magic are quite different, similar enough for Sunset to make use of it but much too different for a native of Remnant to sense it. It made for a pretty cute moment, especially the wink. Maybe a Cin-Set ship in the future? who knows? Aaah I'm just kidding. Unless?
3. Counselor Emerald is actually a nice guy. He has the best interest of the people and the kingdom at heart, after Ozpin told him how many lives Sunset saved in that mission with Starlight and Trixie, he didn't dismissed it, he actually saw that he was wrong and admitted that he was a fool and let his emotions got the best of him, then he apologized to Sunset. Like, he's a good guy. Props to him for being the leader that Vale needs.
4. This is more of a thought then anything else but, shouldn't Ironwood make use of the Androids and Robots he has? Shouldn't some of them already be deployed in Vale just in case? The police are having a hard time because there are no reinforcements. Shouldn't he already know of this and deploy some of his robots?

[AngelicTitan]

11841836
1. Me too, Sunset is always a highlight, and I hope we now have her onto the main chapters as well as the rest of the POVs.
2. I think you’re misreading the spell that Sunset is using; it isn’t a true Invisibility spell in which she becomes invisible, it’s more of a concealing of perception than making Sunset invisible, if you know that there’s is someone there, you can detect them, and Cinder was looking specifically for Sunset so she wouldn’t be affected by the spell, as it only works when people aren’t actively aware of Sunset’s presence. Cinder has much sharper senses than the rest of the Valish Military so she would notice Sunset much easier than them. Yeah, I Ship Cinder and Sunset as well! But Cinder needs first to atone for her actions before she can be together with Sunset...
3. Councilor Emerald kinda grew on me after his disastrous introduction, he started to become a lot more likable when he isn’t trying to get Sunset killed, lol.
4. I think it’s more of the problem that the Robots wouldn’t be able to differentiate between the Police and the Military and it could accidentally kill someone that isn’t being controlled by Sonata, so it’s not a really good idea to deploy them.