Finally, the exams were over. No more stress, no more classes, no more teachers, no more lectures. A wave of relief swept over the entirety of Grail Academy, the hallways of the school had never been so calm before. Where there was once petty squabbles and panicked studying, now was students exchanging contact information and hugs before the winter break set in. Everyone, except for Esmerelda and her teammates. They all stood huddled around Nico’s locker while he maneuvered the lock on it. He had forgotten the combination years ago, but the paper clip he wiggled in the slot between the combination wheel and the locking mechanism was working just fine. A small click, and the lock popped off. “So, what’s the plan again?”

Esmerelda crossed her arms, a look of thinly veiled disgust crossing over her face as she watched her teammate hook the lock onto a belt loop on his pants. Something felt...different. She was about to speak, but trailed off as she pondered, looking around at the lockers and the passing students. “We...haven’t we done this before…?” She muttered. Nico gave her a strange look, questioning “What?”

The same wave of realization washed over himself and Bernard, and they straightened up. The three of them watched the sea of students part around them as they turned in confusion, like fish lost in the ocean. “...Have we?” Bernard wondered and looked to Esmerelda. She didn’t have an answer for him. Nico shook his head and scratched at his hair, frustrated. He squeezed his eyes shut while he tried to think and stammered, “W-wait. This isn’t...what’s going on?”

Esmerelda rubbed her temples, “Okay, what’s the last thing you two remember?”

“Uhm...we were on the quad, I think.” Nico grasped for the answer by tracing for clues in his memory. Bernard nodded, rubbing his chin silently. “That can’t be right…”

--------------------

Hari struggled with the controls on the old projector. The buttons stuck and the toggle never fully focused. One of the feet was broken so the machine always leaned to one side, so the image looked like a stretched diagonal square. After a few slaps to the side of the projector and a couple of tries at turning it off and on again, the inner fans sputtered and whirred, and Hari stepped back to flick the lights off. He left Yorick and Sable alone in the office, shutting the door. With the white window of projector light shining on the wall acting as their only light source, the two of them were wrapped in a blanket of darkness. Strangely, it made Yorick feel safer.

“I offered you a home here. Offered you training. Offered you purpose.” Sable’s face was a thin sliver of pale white within the cloak of tangled hair as she circled the loveseat, running her slender arms along the back. She spoke softly into Yorick’s ear, standing behind him with her hands slowly making their way to his shoulders. “I expect you to repay my generosity.” She sang to him like a siren, holding him in a gentle grip like that of a mother. Yorick’s cheeks were stained with droplets of cold sweat. He couldn’t understand why he was suddenly anxious, but he didn’t dare turn his head to look at Sable as she spoke. Don’t look at her. Look at the light. Look at the light, he told himself.

“You’re strong, Yorick. But you lack restraint. You need to learn control.” Tendrils of pitch black hair snaked themselves around the boy’s body, his arms and torso tied down to the seat. Yorick didn’t notice. The grip was barely tight enough to constrict the breathing of a fly.

A click. A soft tap of a button press. And a video flashed on the wall. It was a little boy, no older than two years, blowing out the candles to a birthday cake. He was struggling, his child-sized lungs provided only enough force to make the flames flicker. The room was dark, but his face and the faces of those around him were illuminated by the soft glow of the fire. He was laughing. A man with thick glasses reached around and helped him blow out the candles, and everyone clapped. A woman with mousy hair began to cut slices from the cake while the man lifted the boy out of his chair, and the child screamed in happiness.

Yorick shuttered. “H-how did you get this?” He wanted to face Sable, but his body refused to let him turn away from the video. Sable did not answer his question, and continued. “How old are you in this? Two? Three? Did you have your semblance at this point? Did your family know?” She asked, and quickly changed the screen instead of waiting for an answer.

It changed to photos of a crime scene. A car on the side of the road, flipped over, smoldering. Sheets on a soft patch of snow next to it. Another slide. A woman, matted hair, bloodied, half her face missing, her dress torn and burnt, parts of her exposed skin flaking off the bone. Another slide. A man, shattered glasses, covered in soot, soaked in blood, red blisters, right hand burnt to a crisp and disconnected from his arm. Another slide. Yellow police tape, a series of broken car parts, an organized pile of numbered evidence. A shiver crawled up Yorick’s spine. He shut his eyes. He was shaking, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails were making indents in his palms. He felt his gut growing hotter, bubbling. He was going to be sick. He held back tears.

“Your parents.” Sable grumbled, “Look at them.” Her freezing cold hands grabbed the sides of Yorick’s head, and straightened him to face the pictures. “You did that. You did that.” The words she said cut him like a knife, but her tone was gentle and passive the entire time. “You’re not just lethal. You’re a cancer. Spreading rapidly.” The slides changed again, to photos of a burning building. A school. One of the rooms completely collapsed and engulfed in smoke. “Everything around you succumbs to the infection. You have to control it.” Yorick’s eyes were watering and red, his breathing grew labored. It took everything he had not to start crying. Small wisps of smoke trailed from the corners of his mouth. “There is no cure for your type of malignancy. No permanent remedy. It’s an irrational anxiety surrounding a rational fear. But you can learn to live with it.”

Tears were streaming down his face. Yorick’s quiet weeping did nothing to waver Sable. She persisted. A photo of his parents, smiling and alive, shone down at him from the wall. He felt another knife in his gut, making him boil hotter. “This pain, it never leaves you. But you can survive it.” Another video, this one of his parents' wedding, the guests dancing and clapping and laughing. “A senseless tragedy. One with no closure, no justice. You know the feeling of that purgatory.”

Yorick nodded slowly and repeated her words, his voice shaky, “Senseless tragedy…” Sable loosened her hold on him, and let the video play out. “What other kind is there?” He asked. Sable stood up from her stooped position and whispered, almost sadly, “Necessary.”

“Was Buck necessary?” Yorick snapped, the smoke pouring from his nostrils. The images of the body washed over him again, and he tried to stand to face Sable. His restraints kept him down in the loveseat, but he squirmed. Was he angry? Was he scared? Yorick had no idea. But whatever he was feeling, it was something he had been burying deep down for a long time.

“You’re searching for conspiracy because the truth is far more painful,” Sable retorted.

“Is it conspiracy if it’s true?”

“You wouldn’t know.”

“Well, is it, then? Is it true?”

“I am not the enemy, Yorick. We will navigate the consequences together, but you are angry at the wrong person. I didn’t kill your parents. I didn’t send you away.” She pulled one of the slides out of the projector and showed him the small photo of police officers crowding around the car wreck. “Be angry at them. They wanted to control you, to make you submissive. They’re afraid of you. I’m not. I know you. I know your power, your strength.” She repeated again, “I am not the enemy.”

Yorick shoves the loveseat to the side, removing the barrier between the two of them. He was panicking. He was angry. He was panicking because of his anger. He had no idea where to direct his hate. “You do not want to lose me. I’m the only person willing to help you. I have been kind, have I not? I can be cruel as well. I will turn my back on you forever if I like. No more friends, no more home.” She placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him from shaking more. “Not all authority will disappoint you. Not all parents leave. But let me be very clear, this is your last chance. Your next words will define your future.”

The rage, pure, unfiltered, untainted, erupted inside him. His stomach felt like a grenade, and Sable just pulled the pin. The pain clawed its way through his body, up his throat, dancing on his tongue. Sable lifted her hand and watched a blue light fill the room, both sudden and slow. Yorick’s insides were on fire, like he was drinking hot magma, but on the outside he was cold. The fire was no longer inside him. It wasn’t even outside him. He was the flame. Sable began to smile, and Yorick sighed. He was tired. “...I’m thirsty.”

--------------------

Esmerelda’s head was spinning. She tried to calculate the math in her head, once, twice, three times. It just didn’t make sense. “We were...already here.” She muttered. Looking to Bernard, who was staring blankly at the wall of lockers in front of him, she attempted to apply some form of logic to the situation. “Try harder, think back. What’s the very last thing you remember happening?”

Nico guffawed, “I told you! We were on the quad, and then those…” He suddenly grew quiet as he lost his train of thought. But Bernard finished his sentence for him, announcing, “...Those people. The Hedge Witches.” The three of them nodded in unity. The story was becoming more clear. “And then there was an explosion, and…” Nico hit his fist on the side of his head, as if he was trying to shake the memory loose. When he mentioned the explosion, a figurative light bulb flashed on over Esmerelda, and she let out a gasp.

“The clocktower.”

The gods of Remnant have always faced strife. Whole pantheons have risen and collapsed. Worshippers have mourned their deities, and created new ones to replace them. But none had ever been as tangible as Sable. She was the priest and the god. The oracle and the angel. The messenger and the messiah. These thoughts tormented Clover as she calmly watched her city be torn asunder by grimm. Gazing over the scattering figures of civilians and monsters from the window of the governor’s office, she had no idea who to blame. Herself? Voshkie? Sable? Maybe all three of them deserved to pay penance for this. She didn’t know. But Voshkie was too frantic to worry about any of it now.

Voshkie wrung his hands nervously, staring into the fireplace as his maid threw file after file into the flames, destroying them. He watched the ends of the pages darken and curl inwards, the words printed on them slowly melting within the fire. He shook his head, “You said the clocktower would be stable. You said we’d be safe.”

“I never promised anything,” Madehold snapped back at him, “that’s why my girls are here.” She turned to the three girls that had made themselves at home in the governor’s office. One had her feet up on his desk, the other sitting in his cushioned office chair, and the third with her arms folded and leaning on an abstract sculpture in the corner. “Yale will be back with the rest of them soon. What’s the plan?” One of the girls dressed in brown asked, playing with the desktop toys. Madehold looked back out the window to spot the gargantuan grimm lumbering forward from the collapsed barrier. “We tell them the truth. Everything, this time. Then, we gather my team. After that, damage control.” Voshkie’s voice quivered as he asked, “What does damage control mean?”

“Stop Sable. Save the world.”

--------------------------------

“You picked a fine time to come back!” Nico shouted, his knuckles turning white from how tight he held his fists in place at his sides. “What the hell!?”

Yale casually adjusted her headband, using the mirror on her bike to play with the bouncy curls in her afro. “Calm your tits, Rosé. Better late than never, right?” The titanic creeper galloped forward, letting out a roar that shook the whole street. Yale simply yelled back at it, “I’ll get to you in a second, bucko!” Nico kicked the back tire of the bike, making it totter and topple over. “Where the hell have you been!? What are you doing here!?”

“I’ll explain everything soon. Right now, we gotta deal with Tall, Dark and Gruesome.”

“You left us! You left ME! You didn’t even say goodbye! And NOW you want to explain!? You should have explained two YEARS ago!”

“Nico. Please, get on the bike.”

“NO! When did you even learn how to drive one of those!?”

“I’ll give you five lien to get on the bike and shut up for two minutes.”

“...Fine.” He picked up his bat and begrudgingly got on, snatching the money from Yale and stuffing it in his pocket before wrapping his arms around her waist. She revved the engine, looking back and him with a devilish smile. Kicking up dust under the wheels, they barrelled forward to the grimm.

Yale took his hands off her waist, and placed them onto the handles of the bike. “You steer. Hang on tight.” She unsheathed the swords from her belt, and as she threaded her fingers through the rings, the curved flat side of both the blades began to glow and buzz in a blue tone. They sped past the grimm by driving between its legs, and Yale slashed at the lower left ankle. The beast let out a pained roar and fell to its knee to relieve some of its weight, and the bike spun around for Yale to cut into the other leg. She took a chunk out of the grimm’s shin, and it collapsed to its knees. Yale connected her knuckles between the blades, and it combined into a large broadsword that she drove into the monster’s throat. Nico sprang from the bike with his bat, landing on its snout. Yale shouted at him from below, “Do your magnet-y thing, dude!”

“Shut up, I’m trying!” Nico exclaimed as he planted his hands on the center of the grimm’s head. He shut his eyes tight, focusing all his energy on bringing his semblance out into play. The surrounding streetlamps began to flicker, until the bulbs shattered one by one. The rusted poled holding the lamps aloft slowly bent, screeching in response to the unnatural movements that Nico was forcing them to make. All at once, the lamps plucked themselves out of the ground and flew forward like projectile arrows. They all plunged themselves into the creeper’s back, and it let out one final cry before disintegrating. Nico panted and tried to catch his breath, joining Yale once more. She gave him a worried look, and pointed to his nose. “You’re, uh...you’re bleeding.” Nico wiped his nose and looked at the red smear across his hand, coughing and getting back on the bike. The two of them drove off into the city, cleaning out any straggling grimm as they went.

-----------------------------------

A horn blared as the barge it belonged to eased into dock, just outside the borders of Mistral. Lolanthe tapped a pencil against a clipboard in her hand as she counted off each metal crate that the line of trucks brought onto the loading bay. Rettah clapped her hands in excitement, gazing at the ocean. “Ooh, this is going to be so much fun! I have the perfect swimsuit for this trip!”

Scarlet rolled his eyes and looked at the body of water in disgust, slinking backwards to the shore. “Ugh...I hate water. Please tell me we can at least stay below deck.” His protests were interrupted by Queenie slapping him on the back with a hearty laugh, “You are such a scaredy cat. It’s only for three days! Come on, look at Yorick,” She pointed to Yorick, who was doing his best to help load all the crates, but clearly failing as his weak frame grappled with the single box in his arms, “The poor guy definitely needs some sun. And so do you! A change of scenery will be good for us, come on.” Scarlet only hissed in response, tugging his hood over his head and pulling the strings tight until only his nose protruded from the small hole it made.

There was a loud crash as the box clattered to the ground out of Yorick’s hands, and he huffed in disappointment before hunching over to clean up his mess. One of the nails in the corner of the lid had loosened and rolled away. It took all of his strength to resist peering inside, and even then it wasn’t enough. Through the wooden slits, he could see more than a dozen tightly packaged bags of black, glittering powder. At an angle, it looked as though they were peppered with blue dust. He knew what it was. He had a very intimate relationship with this substance. Part of him wanted to run away, to tell somebody what was in the crate, to go back home to Atlas. But he stood frozen, squatting in front of the box, looking at its contents. Slowly, he lifted the crate and brought it to the loading bay of the barge. It must be a mistake. It was just dust, right? It had to be.

They all boarded the barge, and the recognizable potbelly of the floor manager jiggled as he laughed in conversation with the captain. The way he slid a busty envelope full of lien to the captain was so inconspicuous that one might even think the floor manager was doing a sleight-of-hand magic trick, the beige paper only being revealed for a second as it was transferred between hands. A similar hand movement was made when Scarlet slithered behind Yorick and yanked him up by his ponytail. He let out a yelp, but Scarlet shushed him, “You should learn this now,” he spoke through his teeth while his free hand wrapped the sharp wire of his Yo-Yo around Yorick’s hair, “Working with Sable means more fights. And more fights means you can’t keep locks like that, unless you wanna get your head cut off.” On the final word, he tugged the wire and sliced Yorick’s ponytail clean off his head, letting the clumps of hair fall to the ground. Yorick frantically grabbed at the back of his head to feel where his hair had been cut, and was wordless. He looked to Scarlet in shock, who only responded with “Less chance of you getting grabbed. Just trying to help you.” He shrugged and strolled onto the boat, leaving Yorick to trail solemnly behind him.

Rettah grabbed his hand, lacing her fingers between his and they walked on together. “He really is trying to help you, you know.” She looked at Scarlet, his hips and tail swaying as he sauntered below deck. Yorick shook his head, exasperated, “Yeah, but why does he have to be so mean about it?” They both shared a knowing look when they remembered just why Scarlet had a vendetta for Yorick.

“Oh...yeah.”

“Don’t take it too hard. Scarlet, he...he loved Buck. He was his whole world. He just needs more time than the rest of us to get over it.”

“All I want is to get on his good side, but I screwed over our whole relationship the moment I joined the team! Honestly, he has a right to bully me the way he does.”

“Eh...we all mourn in different ways. If you really want him to like you, just stay out of his way for a little while.”

“...Alright, I guess.”

------------------------------------

Esmerelda dug her claws into the crevices between the brick wall of the building, and used them to slide down. Ivan sliced through the last of the lingering grimm with his blades like a hibachi chef preparing a meal for their audience, separating the creature into neat chunks before it disintegrated. Just as they both landed on the pavement, Beau and Iris emerged from a side street and ran over. “We took care of the stragglers, but Nico, he ran off!” Beau breathed heavily as she spoke, hands on her knees while she panted. “Idiot wanted to play the hero again, and now we’re pretty sure he’s dino dookie.” Ivan laughed, and Esmerelda face palmed and gritted her teeth, hissing through her fingers, “We need to put a leash on that boy.”

Vert ushered the last of the civilians onto a shuttle bus and slid the doors shut, and Bernard slapped the side of the metallic hull of the vehicle with his hand to signal the driver to get moving. The engine sputtered and the bus sped away, but the sound did little to disguise the roar of another engine. Mechanical yet animalistic, a flash of neon blue streaked past the duo, and the speed caused Bernard’s coat tails to flip and wave in the wind. At first he assumed it was just another civilian who was escaping the city on a motorbike, but when he saw the tower of pink hair billowing on the seat of the bike, he looked to Vert. The goat faunus pointed to the shrinking bike in the distance, “Was that--”

“Yup.” Bernard nodded in annoyance.

Vert slowly pulled his accusatory finger back, “...We should probably go get the others, huh.”

“Yup.”

Chasing down their leaders and trying to herd their teams was hard enough, but as the stragglers of EBNY and BIVI raced after the motorbike towards the center of the city, a part of Bernard was beginning to regret trusting his partner to go off on his own. They did eventually catch up, though not as soon as they’d like. They could see the bike parked poorly on the steps of the City Hall, and Nico sitting next to it with his head tilted back as he plugged his nose with a tissue. He waved at the group, but his demeanor did nothing to slow Esmerelda’s furious stride. She stomped up the stairs, and without a second thought, drew her hand back and slapped Nico across the face. The sound of the slap made Bernard and BIVI visibly cringe, and Nico howled in pain. The force of the hit knocked the tissue out of his nose and a fresh trickle of blood spurted from his nostril. “Ow, shit!”

“That’s for leaving your team behind.” Esmerelda stomped down on the toe of Nico’s boot, grinding her heel down and making him howl even more. Nico held his foot, tears welling up in his eyes.

“And that’s for riding without a helmet.”

---------------------------------

Clover pulled the reins on her horse. The white spots that speckled her steed made him look like a gingersnap cookie, hense his name. His red mane was cut low long ago, to keep his hairs from tangling with the leather straps of the various harnesses that laced across his sturdy body. The horse slowed from a gallop to a trot, and finally to a stop, at which point Clover pulled the helmet of her intricate silver suit of armor and held it at her side. Her, and three others, all riding similar horses and wearing similar suits of armor, watched the doors of the church expectantly. One of them immediately pulled a sunhat over his head once the apparently vile helmet was removed, while another pulled her hair out of the intricate ponytail that was hidden under her headpiece. The one closest to Clover, to her right, began wedging a toothpick into his gums, and all four of them sat patiently.

Steadily, the tall wood doors of the church creaked open, spreading like the thighs of a virgin to its noble saviors, with the beautiful stained glass windows forcing the sunlight to shift through their panes. Sable, a younger complexion adorning her face, stood in the opening of the structure, arms outstretched to her blonde sweetheart. Clover placed a kiss on Sable’s lips after she dismounted her horse and sprinted up the chapel’s stairs, but the moment was short-lived when the two of them were standing in the shadow of a familiar matriarch, whose midnight black hair fell over the shoulders of her blouse. Curio ushered her four knights into the holy ground of a god she did not believe in.

-------------------------------------

Recognizable lines of age decorated Clover’s current face as she held her usual stance of staring out the office window. She looked over her shoulder to the group of 4, 8, 11 armed children standing in front of her with an array of angry and confused expressions. Something snapped inside her. The part of her heart that still beat with the hot blood of a huntress told her, enough with the lies. She watched the ice cubes rattle against the inside of the glass of rub she was holding, before deciding to pour the alcohol into a potted plant next to the governor’s desk. Of course, the tubby anatomy of the governor himself could do nothing to stop the muscular headmaster of the school from doing so, no matter how much he protested under his breath as he stood by the fireplace. Madehold looked over her students, her ranks, her army.

It wasn’t any noise that stirred Yorick from his slumber, but rather the lack thereof. He had dozed off in the truck as Sable’s organization drove to Calicem’s border, his head softly vibrating against the window. But when that soothing shaking stopped, his eyes snapped open. “Why are we stopped…?” He yawned and rubbed his eyes, looking to Rettah for an answer. She was staring out the window at a series of headlights blocking the truck’s paths. “Do you think they’re police?”

Yorick shook his head. “No...they would need more time to get here.”

“Well, who else knows about us?”

“Nobody, besides my old team.” He sighed, and a ping of realization hit him. He and Rettah shared the same expression. “You don’t think…”

Before they could respond, an orchestra of sound soared from the engines of the assailants. Queenie patted Yorick on the shoulder, speaking softly, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. Stay in the truck, don’t let them see you.” With that, she hopped out of the vehicle with her hands up, and moved slowly to what she could now see were a row of motorcycles.

“We don’t want any trouble” she started, and suddenly they were upon her. A figure, whose face was hidden under a blue bike helmet, dashed and quickly grappled her, pinning Queenie’s arms behind her head with the end of a blade against her throat. Queenie didn’t even see the swords hanging in sheathes from the attacker’s belt, but the moment the cold metal grazed her skin, she halted her breathing. A distorted, deep voice came from under the helmet, shouting towards the line of trucks. “Nobody moves, or I paint the road with her.” Following this threat, another biker dismounted and stepped forward, their orange helmet emitting a similar vocal distortion to their speech. “Come out, witch. We know you’re in there.”

Inside the truck, Rettah held a tight grip on Yorick’s shirt as she watched the hostage situation. “How the hell do they know about Sable!?” Scarlet growled, pushing his way to the front of the truck to peer out the window. “They’re bluffing, they have to be.”

Surprisingly, the door of the truck ahead of them swung open, and Sable stepped down. She wore a heavy parka, thick enough to hide her face and cover enough of her body that people wouldn’t find the lack of color to her skin suspicious. Strands of black hair writhed within the darkness of the hood, and she smiled at the four bikers. “What can I do for you, my dears?”

The biker with the blue helmet shouted, “You can turn the fuck around and go right back where you came from, for starters!” The biker in orange held up their hand to silence their partner, and spoke in a calmer tone, “You know Madehold will only find you and bring you back herself if you don’t. This doesn’t have to be hard. Only if you make it.”

Sable chuckled at that. First quietly, but it slowly grew into a raucous cackle. She threw her head back in laughter, wiping a tear away from her eye once she calmed down. “Ah, I’m afraid I can’t do that. Do you know how long I’ve been trapped in that cesspool of a city, scavenging and surviving?” As she spoke, she pulled her hood down and began strolling closer and closer to the group. The two that were still on their bikes reached towards their waists for concealed weapons. “You see, my friends and I have been working on this little project of ours for a very, very long time. And now that the barrier’s down, well...it’s time for us to share it with the rest of Remnant.” A black tendril whipped out and caught the orange biker in the throat, strangling them and lifting them off the ground. They gagged, and the blue team member let go of Queenie to slice down the branch of hair with their swords to free them. This only gave Queenie the opportunity to incapacitate them, planting an explosive card on the back of their helmet and smirking as they were knocked unconscious by the blast, their helmet now shattered to pieces. “Oh, Queenie, how sweet of you!” Sable smiled to the girl, petting her head. “Go back to the truck, honey. I can take care of the rest, it’s no trouble.”

Queenie vacated the area as the other three mystery bikers stepped forward. The orange figure unfolded a staff with an ignition point at the end, and the two in back both pulled long intricate chains from their belts. They stood ready to fight, but they were no match. A swirl of tentacles shot from Sable, hacking and slashing like a massive blender, until all the assailants were unconscious and dangling from nearby tree branches. She brushed the dust off her hands and crawled back into the passenger seat of the truck. “Well then, that takes care of that. Shall we continue?” The pack of trucks pushed forward, wrecking all four of the motorbikes that stood in their way.

--------------------------

“So, what do we do now?” Nico called out to his brawling teammates from the bleachers of the training hall. As Esmerelda flung herself into the air to dodge Bernard’s whip, she could see through the skylight that the sun was once more beginning to set. She landed gracefully on her feet, like a cat, and placed a hand on her hip. “I don’t know, but it’s almost nightfall again, which means the clocktower will reset the day soon.”

Bernard grumbled and wrapped his weapon around his forearm, inspecting some of the fraying portions of metal. “Does this mean we never actually went to that bar in the first place?” Both Esmerelda and Nico stared at him, confused. “I...I guess not. Haha, hey! That’s great! Now I’m not on the biker gang’s shit-list!” Nico clapped in joy, propping his feet against the back of a bleacher seat. Esmerelda only pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, hissing, “Well, I’m not as content to relive the same day for all eternity, darling.” She began to pick her nails angrily, continuing, “What does Madehold expect us to do? Fix it for her!? It’s like the only things adults are good at are lying to us and making us take care of their problems.”

Bernard put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, and Nico proceeded to start playing around with his bat, balancing it on his nose like a seal. “Why don’t we just let her take care of it, then? It’s a city problem, not a student problem.” Esmerelda then snapped her fingers to get Nico’s attention, and as he lost his concentration, the bat toppled over and clocked him in the forehead. “Have you forgotten that we LIVE in the city? Calicem’s barriers are down, which means anyone can get out. And by anyone, I mean Sable, and Yorick. Not to mention, anyone can get in too. Or, anything.” Nico rubbed the sore spot on his forehead that was beginning to bruise, and exclaimed, “Oh please, grimm are the last thing I’m worried about! Everyone in Calicem is too high, drunk, or stupid to get emotional enough to draw them. They’re goddamn zombies!”

Just as he finished his sentence, a distant screech erupted from the far end of the city. First one, then dozens. Bernard and Esmerelda both frowned at him, and Nico rushed to grab his weapon as he defended himself, shouting “Hey, that wasn’t my fault! Don’t look at me like that!”

The three of them rushed out of the training hall, sprinting across the quad and spotting BRVI bursting out of the dorm hall, weapons at the ready. They grouped together, following the sounds of anguish to its source: A group of Creep grimm herding around a building’s storefront, clambering up the walls and snapping their teeth at the people cowering inside through the window glass. Six on the building, and many more stalking through the streets, large and small. The hunters immediately got to work, hacking away at the monsters until the storefront was cleared. Bernard and Vert ushered the civilians out the back door, and Esmerelda pointed at the leftover Creeps scaling the side of the building. “Ivan and I can take care of the stragglers. Beau, Iris, Nico, you three follow their trail and find out where they’re coming from. Bernard and Vert are on civilian duty.” Beau was about to protest when she realized that she and her team were being bossed about by someone who wasn’t their leader, but the steadfastness in Esmerelda’s tone told her that it would be better to do as she said. Beau, Iris, and Nico ran in the direction that the first wave of grimm had come from.

“The grimm sure did pick a good time to attack, when everyone else is away on winter break.” Ivan stated sarcastically, wedging the ends of his blades into the cracks of the brick and beginning the climb. Esmerelda rolled her eyes, “I’m taking the stairs.” She made her way up the stairwell inside, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of dejá vu from when she was in the same situation, chasing Yorick at the hotel. That was the last time she saw him. The thought made her push further, until she kicked the door to the roof open and was met with a trio of Creeps, who spun around at her sound and hissed, claws bared. Esmerelda bared her claws as well, and lunged for the closest creature’s throat. Her nails sunk deep into it’s skin, breaking the scaly exterior and holding the grimm in a headlock. “IVAN!” She called, and her impromptu partner flung himself over the ledge of the roof and landed on the Creep’s back, taking the opportunity to sever its head inches from where Esmerelda’s hands were. The grimm’s headless body stumbled about for a bit before finally collapsing. This, of course, did not make the other Creeps very happy, and they screeched at them.

Meanwhile, as Bernard and Vert did their best to direct the foot traffic away from danger, Nico led the charge towards the source of the attack. “Stay on your toes!” Beau shouted to him, but Nico just ignored her and kept on running, ducking to avoid a passing grimm’s claw. He danced around the creatures, unknowingly leaving Beau and Iris to clean up his mess. It was only when he heard Iris yelling that Nico slid to a stop. He spun around, adrenaline pumping through him, and Iris called out to him, “Hey, Nico!” She thrusted her fist into the air and formed horns with her index and pinky finger, a gesture that Nico copied with zealousness and a smile. He continued his pursuit alone, building up more and more speed with each step he took. Soon, he was out of earshot of his friends, and it fell eerily quiet. The sound of Creeps could only be heard in the distance. Nico slowed to a walking pace, making sure to keep his bat ready just in case. He walked down the empty streets, feeling something familiar about the scene. Then he saw it, the bar they went to the other day. Or, maybe it would be this day? He wasn’t sure how the whole thing worked, and he wasn’t going to bother figuring it out.

“This is the edge of the city…” He muttered to himself, “...The barrier must be around here somewhere.” That was when he heard it. Boom. Boom. Boom. At first he thought it was someone’s bass-boosted car radio blasting muffled music, but the beats were too off. Boom. Boom. Boom. It was getting closer. He couldn’t tell from what direction it was coming from. He quickly flipped the switch on his weapon and brandished his bow staff, backing away slowly. “Whatever’s out there, I’m warning you! Don’t mess with me, I’ve got the power of heavy metal on my side!”

A gust of warm air suddenly hit the back of Nico’s neck, ruffling his mohawk. He froze. He could hear a soft growling rumbling from something’s gut. Slowly, he turned, and Nico’s face was now mere inches away from the gaping maw of a gigantic prehistoric Creep grimm. Just one of its teeth was as big as his head, and the only reason it wasn’t towering over the other buildings in the area was because it was hunched down, eye to eye with a scrawny pink haired weasel of a boy.

----------------------

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

----------------------

Birds scattered from their treetops. Civilians rushing from the scene turned their heads. The loudest, highest pitched scream anyone on team EBN or BRVI had ever heard erupted from Nico’s direction. Esmerelda facepalmed, and Ivan nudged her shoulder, “I think your little buddy found where the grimm are coming from, heheh.” She slapped the nuisance upside his head and leapt off the roof. Springing back and forth, from one window ledge to the other, until she landed on the ground gracefully like a cat on her feet right next to Bernard. “Let’s go.”

------------------------

“Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit-” Nico huffed his words breathlessly as he ran for his life, the monster’s giant feet missing him by centimeters every step it took. “Okay, big guy! I’m sorry! I didn’t know this was your turf, I totally understand! You need some privacy, get yourself some me-time! I get it! Let me just get out of your hair, I’ll be on my way, you’ll never hear from me again! I promise!” He didn’t exactly know why he was trying to negotiate with the creature, and when he realized how stupid this really was, Nico halted abruptly. “Ah shit...I’m gonna have to fight that thing, aren’t I?” He looked over his shoulder anxiously, and watched the grimm get closer. “...Alright, let’s get this over with.” He took a fighting stance with his bat raised, his eyes shut tight to avoid looking at the beast. “If I die, at least I’ll go out in a blaze of glory.”

But he didn’t die. He waited, and waited, yet there was no sharp pain to signify that the gigantic Creep’s teeth had begun the process of crushing his skull. Confused, he opened one eye cautiously, and saw that the grimm was somehow getting farther away now. “Huh?” It took a moment for him to process the situation. He was now sitting in the arms of a masked figure, resting in their lap as they sped away on a worn motorbike. The person’s helmet was scratched and cracked, the blue paint beginning to flake off. The vehicle squealed as it turned on the rear wheel, stopping once some distance was made between the grimm and themselves. Nico got to his feet and immediately pointed his bat in the figure’s face. The person reached up to push his weapon away, but spikes suddenly judded from the end, and they pulled their hand back. “Who the hell are you, and why did you help me back there?” Nico interrogated with a furrowed brow.

“Chill out, man. We’re cool.” The figure with the helmet raised their hands to surrender, their voice was disfigured through the helmet’s malfunctioning filter. “Yeesh, it gets so hot under this thing. I’m just gonna take it off, okay?” Nico stepped backwards and warned them, “Slowly. You make any moves, it’s bye-bye to your motor skills. And I don’t mean the bike.”

The figure nodded, and slowly lifted the helmet off. Nico’s eyes widened. He dropped the bat, and it clattered and rolled across the pavement. He almost stumbled and fell backwards from tripping on it.

“I saw something else, you know.” As the trio snuck down the corridor, Nico whispered to the group, “I think it was a dream. But it felt...real, like a memory.” Both Esmerelda and Bernard shushed him, but he continued nonetheless. “I was this pale lady, with black hair, and-“ they shushed him again, this time with their fingers over their mouths. “-And I was in a pool. And something-“ Finally, when Esmerelda had enough, she spun around and hissed at him, “And something grabbed you, right? We all saw it. Now HUSH, before you get us caught!” She tried the door handle to Madehold’s office, and to her surprise, it was unlocked. She slipped inside and began rummaging through the filing cabinets.

Bernard pat Nico on the back sympathetically, and the boy picked his teeth with a finger nail. “I don’t get it. It has to mean something, right? They’ve gotta be connected.” Esmerelda’s hands wrapped around a pile of beige folders and pulled them out of their respective drawer, throwing them onto the floor as she searched for anything important. “You can ask questions later. Right now, we have to find where our headmaster has run off to.” Bernard stopped over and helped her search through the schedules of classes and events, until he pulled out a promising sheet of paper marked up with pen. The smudged ink was in Madehold’s handwriting, it seemed to be a list. “Transfer student tour, city hall meeting, lunch with Reed...ah, here it is! She’s at the city hall!” Esmerelda exclaimed.

“Why would she need to go there?” Bernard wondered, handing the schedule to their team leader. “Hell if I know, but at least we have a location.” Esmerelda folded the sheet and tucked it in her coat, and Nico interrupted their celebration. “And just how do you expect to get in to that meeting?” He questioned, “Get on Bernie’s shoulders and put on a trench coat?” The two boys looked at eachother, and Bernard shrugged, adding “It could work.” Esmerelda shook her head and strutted to the entrance of the room, “Oh, no. I have a much better idea. Nico, are those fake IDs still in your locker?”

--------------------

Scarlet had been hiding out in the greenhouse for a few days now, all in an attempt to avoid contact with the murderer who was supposed to be his new team member. His anger had shapeshifted over time, his hatred had malformed into physical sickness. So, here he sat, surrounded by ferns and flowers, meditating. Cross legged on the ground, he found peace for a short time in counting his breaths, and inhaling the smell of Buck’s scarf wrapped around him.

A small gust of wind blew the greenhouse door open, and its slamming against the wall startled Scarlet out of his trance. His gaze fell on a potted blue flower resting on a shelf across from him, a larkspur, a single stem with a handful of blue bell pedals prouting from its leaves. Scarlet felt something twist inside him, the longer he watched the flower, the tighter his insides constricted. He couldn’t understand why, why it hurt so much to look at this weed. It never bothered him before, why now? Then, his mind flashed back. The rooftop of the hotel. The night wind blowing, wafting the smoke off of Buck’s body and carrying it away. The gravel under his feet crunching. Rettah’s shaky hand holding his. The silk bow around Yorick’s neck, waving in the wind. The blue shine of the center pendant that glinted in the light of the hotel sign. That blue. That cold, empty, heavy blue, that made him feel like he was drowning, like it was stealing his breath, his life. The same shade as Yorick’s eyes, his sad, pitiful eyes that pleaded for forgiveness and penance for an unforgivable atrocity. That gods-awful fucking blue.

Without restraint, Scarlet whipped his yo-yo and shattered the pot. He stood, slowly, gripping the wires of his weapons, and flicked his wrists. Fueled by momentum and grief, he tore through the greenhouse and destroyed every plant in his path. He knew it wouldn’t bring Buck back, but it sure did feel good. As the weapons wound back into place and locked under his sleeves, Scarlet turned to see Queenie staring at him from the doorway. She looked him over, arms crossed, with an unimpressed expression on her face. He panted angrily and growled, “What!?”

“Lolanthe and Butch are back from the mission. We’re moving out.”

“Goddamnit...when?”

“Tomorrow.”