Author's note:

So, we passed 100 followers, and that's pretty cool. If you want some bells and whistles or something, I could probably do that, I'd just need some ideas or something.

Roman Torchwick sucked in a heavy breath as he piloted the Bullhead over the crash of the ship that had previously belonged to Cinder. He was ahead now, and had the advantage. If he could get to the city first, he could raise the alarm, and give Cinder as much resistance as possible.

He had to admit, stabbing her in the back was actually quite exciting. More than he had thought it would be. His heart was pumping hard in his chest, and an evil smile was spread across his face. He was being evil, perhaps, but it was a good evil. He was turning coat, but he was being much less evil in the process. It was for money, but that didn't change anything. He was being the good guy for once, and he was getting paid mountains to do it.

Neo moved around in the bulkhead behind him, and he glanced back to find her nimbly climbing into the copilot seat next to him. As she did this, Roman got a good look at her eyes, which seemed to convey a deep worry. He smiled at her, and said, "Aw, don't worry! I figure that we can just land this baby any old place, and go tell someone that Cinder is coming. I don't know if they'll listen to the crazy guy who landed a Bullhead in the middle of the street, but we may as well try our luck. You have any better ideas?"

Neo shook her head. There weren't many other options. The best that they could do otherwise was just to radio in what was coming. Though, now that she thought about it, doing both probably wasn't such a bad idea. She gently elbowed Roman's arm, and pointed to the small radio in the dashboard. Roman raised an eyebrow, and asked, "Really? I would think that they would want to know who it was, in which case I'd have to tell them, and get arrested as soon as we touch down. But, if you really think that it is a good idea, I guess I could do it."

Neo nodded. She would be able to keep Roman out of trouble as much as he needed, and the city would need as much forewarning as they could get about Cinder's little personal army that she was leading to their boarders. Roman shrugged, and said, "If you say so." In an almost sarcastic voice. Neo smiled, feeling his brain consider and approve the idea. It always felt good to know that Roman regarded her opinion with such special consideration as he did, because it reminded her that the two of them were closer than either was to anyone else. It was what she wanted, of course, to be close to him, and it was moments like that where she felt she had attained her goal.

Roman started to take the Bullhead down, making sure that all the lights were off. He also flicked the interior lights off, only the illuminated controls providing any kind of light. At the same time, Roman reached for the small headset that had been discarded earlier.

After managing to pull it on over his hat, he tapped it a few times to make sure that it was working, then started to fiddle with the controls of the radio. "Hello? Anyone there? I've got some pretty important stuff here to tell you…" He tried for a while to get a response, but the radio was silent for some time.

It wasn't before he took the Bullhead in large, sweeping, dangerous motions down towards the street. After he started doing this, a response came quickly, saying, "Unidentified aircraft, stop what you're doing immediately and provide identification!"

A smile came across his face, and he continued to make dangerous maneuvers, speaking as he did so. "I don't know, I don't really want you to know who I am. I will stop if you listen to me, though. So, I mean, it's your choice, really."

There was a pause of several seconds, and as Roman started to take a particularly steep dive, laughing out loud as he did so, the voice almost screamed , "Alright, stop! What do you want me to hear?"

Neo and roman both smiled, and he said, "Good, good. Now-" he pulled the Bullhead out of its dive, and began to explain the situation to the mysterious person"-there's a big force of people coming in from the southeast to attack you. I really doubt you'll be able to repel them, but you may as well try. You've got to get all of your military ready, and when you do, dig in as much as you can. Don't let them take this place easily. If they get the city, they get all of Menagerie. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

There was another long few seconds of silence, and Roman said in a threatening voice, "Am I going to have to crash this thing into a few buildings to get you people to respond, or do you want to just listen to the guy who's trying to save your sorry hides?"

Another few moments of silence passed, and then a different voice came over the radio. This one sounded much more authoritative, and louder than the last. Roman knew that whoever that man's commanding officer, or whatever they were, had been put on the line. A more gruff voice said, "Who is this enemy, and why are they attacking us?"

Roman rolled his eyes, sighed, and responded in a frustrated tone, "On, I don't know, the demons who want to take over the whole world? Look, just get your military ready! I'm here trying to do a public service, and you're just standing around like an idiot! What do I have to say to get you people ready? I have a bomb in the leader's house and office! I'm going to light all the orphanages in the city on fire! Just do something!"

There was about half a second more of silence, then the voice spoke again. "Land your craft, then we'll talk."

Roman laughed out loud at this, and said, "Oh, that's rich! What do you think I am, stupid? Why don't you make use of those animal instincts you people are so proud of, and just trust me? I'll just be going if you don't, I tried my best to stop the whole "demonic invasion" thing, and nobody listened to me!"

Neo could tell that he wasn't getting as frustrated as he seemed, only trying his best to manipulate the man on the other end, but he was started to get irritated. She wanted to do something to help, but there was nothing that she could really contribute without a voice. She could read a lot on information from the man they were talking to just from his voice, but there was nothing that would really help them get their point across.

Roman seemed to be satisfied with the job he had done, though, and started to turn the Bullhead away from the city. There was no reason to stay if they wouldn't believe him, so it was the best thing to do. Better than being shot down by some missile, or landing and getting arrested. Of course, Roman's insults probably hadn't done them any favors. It might spur the man into action, but there were other ways that they could have pulled something like that off. She wasn't too harsh on him, though. The way he did things did have a certain kind of charm.

They had delivered their message, and they weren't going to stay and fight an outright battle against Cinder. They had no interest in dying. They would simply fly away from the city until they ran out of fuel, then perhaps continue to make their way on foot. They could turn back, and claim that they had been looking for things to soften up before Cinder got to them if she caught up, but both tended to doubt that would happen.

The voice started to shout at them through the radio again, but with one deft movement, Neo pummeled her knuckles into the device, making its casing crack, lights sputter, and a few sparks to fly from where its wirings had been undone. Roman jumped when she did this, fixing her with a frightened gaze and exclaiming, "What the-"

He saw Neo's playful smile, and shook his head, sighing heavily. "A little warning would be nice next time, my dear. I don't think that it would be good if you gave the driver a heart attack."

Neo still smiled, and looked back out the cockpit. It was fun to startle Roman, even in serious times. She didn't do it much, she knew that he didn't like it, but it brought them closer. And besides, there was still another reason that she had done it. The man's voice was annoying, and she would've rather made sure that he couldn't contact them again than simply turn the radio off. It wasn't like they were going to be in the Bullhead much longer anyways.

As they flew, in the distance behind them, she could see the forces of the demons starting to hit the city's outer limits. Roman couldn't, his eyes weren't good enough, but hers did it easily.

It was a good thing that they had left.

Cinder moved among her ranks like water running over razor blades. She could feel more pleasure around her than she had ever felt before, and it was a challenge to keep herself from simply charging into it without planning or reason. The part of her mind that hadn't been driven mad with pleasure, though, managed to hold herself back. She needed to let her minions go first, so that they would take the brunt of the damage. They would enjoy it. She would too, if she took any hits, but she was too fast for that. She didn't know when she had been able to react to bullets flying through the air, but they all seemed like they were simply moving through gelatin. In fact, everything seemed to have slowed a significant degree.

Sounds near her simply ran across her body, every ripple of the waves making a tingling sensation on her skin, and every screaming voice around her joining in a sweet chorus, no matter who the voices belonged to.

Citizens screamed as her followers fell upon them, and the screams turned to moans as her gift was shared. She could feel her powers growing even further as they gave themselves over, and some even joined in the attack that she was leading, wanting others to understand the sheer bliss that was only a short moment away. As much as she wanted to go about searching every home, and bringing every individual into the heights of ecstasy, there was no time for that. There was going to be resistance soon.

A few of her own, the recent converts from the airship, carried weapons, and fired on those they passed, but they always tried to score nonlethal shots. Incapacitated, these people were much easier to catch, and be shown the truth.

The demons that accompanied her were also just as zealous about it, working as quickly as they could to bring as many mortals as they could into their fold.

Chaos surrounded them. Buildings had started to burn, screaming and moaning filled the air, and Cinder had never felt so at home. This was where she belonged, in the midst of something like this. This was what the whole world would be like, once she and her master had their way. Nobody would have to ever restrain themselves again. If they wanted to do something, they would simply do it. A world of freedom.

The resistance that they had expected to encounter came in the form of Hunters. She could recognize the signs of their being used instantly. Bullheads soared in the sky, dropping their warriors out onto the streets below. Her charge covered many streets, going in every direction that there were people, and the Hunters didn't have the numbers to contain them. Cinder couldn't stop herself any longer, and charged to the front of the wave, leading it.

A team of four hunters was what was dropped in front of them, and she smiled when she saw them. They looked so scared, and so hopeless. They didn't even know that they would soon be begging for her gift. They all had projectile weapons, Cinder didn't care in all of the excitement, and fired at her without reservation. As she had noted before, their bullets were slow, sliding through the air around her, easy to dodge. She made whatever adjustments she had to in order to get her body through the field unharmed, ducking, turning, and jumping her way towards them.

Once she came within a close distance, two of the Hunters lashed out with melee weapons. One was some kind of long, thick blade, and the other appeared to be some form of cudgel, a large, heavy orb of dust at the end.

In spite of the years of training that they had no doubt undergone, Cinder found them easy to maneuver around. The first was the man with the blade. He struck out in a horizontal strike, meaning to bisect her, but it was easy to duck under, and take a step closer. The next attack came from the wielder of the cudgel. He tried to make use of the fact that she had just dodged to score an easy and crushing strike. The length of metal, about arm's length, came rocketing down towards her, but she wasn't off balance form the first dodge. She used the motion of rising back up from the duck to fling herself up, off of the ground, and past the cudgel. The other two Huntsmen took the opportunity to fire at her while she was vulnerable, and their teammates were not in the way, but it did about as much good as it had before. Cinder made use of the opportunity to start to turn them.

Her motions in the air looked like some form of dance, and it was easy to tuck herself around the bullets. She could tell that her twisting and turning was starting to disarm them. They were so easy to turn, but she didn't think less of them. She was the most beautiful thing that they had ever seen, how could they not give themselves over?

They were Hunters, though, and their resolve was strong. They were able to resist bowing their knees immediately, and kept fighting. She would have to try harder. She started to fall back towards the earth, and angled herself to hit on her feet. She did, barely making a sound as she did so, and made a sweeping step towards one of the men. He was taken aback, pulling his sword back close to him, and meaning to make another panicked slash at her.

He didn't expect it, though, when she quickly draped herself around his neck, and pushed his head forward so that their lips touched. The man gave a violent spasm, fighting to get her off, but as Cinder held him there, his struggles stopped, and his eyes rolled up in his head. She could feel his who body go limp, and she held him up in her strong arms. His friends were all too stunned to do anything, and when she took her lips away, she whispered in his ear, "Who do you serve?"

He blinked several times in rapid succession, coming back to himself. "I…" he stammered out words like he wasn't sure how to talk. "I don't… I'm a Hunt-" his explanation was cut off as Cinder again pushed him into her lips. Again, his body weakened, but this time his partners weren't going to simply marvel at the oddity any longer. All three sprang to help him, the man with the cudgel putting his hands on both their shoulders, and the other two raising firearms, ready to fire as soon as they got the chance.

They wouldn't get that chance, though. Cinder was too strong to detach from the man, and, even if she were overpowered, the man was not making a clear attempt to stay with her. Again, she pulled away and whispered softly, "Who do you serve?"

There was a pained look on his face, he was obviously trying to stay in control. The signals his body gave him, though, and the chemicals in his brain all made it impossible. His defense fell, and he shuddered as he was flooded with Cinder's gift. "I serve you."

It was barely loud enough to hear over the din around them, but Cinder smiled. She could tell that her followers, mortal and demon alike, had caught up with her. The other three had been totally distracted by her, and had neglected to keep the growing horde at bay.

Cinder felt something as their faces changed, but it wasn't the ecstasy that she expected. As fear erupted in the men, Cinder took time to study their expressions, the way their eyes dilated, and the way their hearts beat faster. There was something odd now. She had always enjoyed the looks of slipping into mindless pleasure, but now there was a feeling of gain from fear, as well. It wasn't the same, though. It wasn't from her lord, it was from somewhere else.

The men nearly disappeared under the flood of cultists and demons, and Cinder quickly saw them lose their mind, just like everyone else. Still, though, there was something different about fear. Could she gain pleasure from that, too?

The curious feeling wouldn't go away, and started to feel like a pressure on her thoughts. It was doing something, stopping her from feeling the excitement she so heavily needed.

Figuring that this was important, she took the opportunity to experiment. If there was a problem with the attack, she would hear about it. However, they had already reached a point of critical mass where it seemed that nothing could stop them. Regardless of whether Cinder was contributing her powers or not, they would take the city. It was for that reason that she felt comfortable breaking off, and exploring this new feeling.

She wove her way through the passing bodies of humans and demons alike, before coming to a stop outside of a large alleyway. Several of her people had already gone down this way, but she wanted to find someone who was not yet touched by her gift, and see what fear did to them. She had used fear in her life before the coming of her lord, but those days were like a dark haze. She could hardly recall a thing.

Her legs carried her without resistance through the streets, hunting for a place not yet spoiled. Almost every door was knocked off its hinges the further back she looked, despite most not taking the time to go in, but she wanted to find those who had seen what would happen to them. It was necessary, as they would be the most fearful.

It took several minutes of searching, but she did eventually find a house that looked suitable. More importantly, she spied a woman looking down at her through a top story window. The girl quickly ducked out of the way, but it was too late. Cinder had seen her target.

She set about entering the house immediately. All doors and windows were locked, but it was easy to simply smash her way through and climb in. As she pulled herself through, several pointed pieces of glass tried to push their way through her skin. They couldn't, though. She let herself down to the ground, as quietly as a mouse, and started to creep across the first floor. She could hear the frantic breathing of someone up stairs, presumably the woman that she had seen before, and started to look for a way up. Following the sound, it didn't take long to find a stairway leading up, which she climbed on all fours, not making a peep of sound. The breathing was starting to quiet now, and Cinder could tell that she woman had thought she had left. This was not the case, though, as she would soon find out.

Cinder felt good doing this. Not in the usual, mind shattering way that she normally felt good, but in a more subdued, clever way. It was a nice change of pace, as little sense as that made. Instead of drowning in her own pleasure, she was now in control of it. It was odd, how different she could feel. She had been submerged in a frenzy of ecstasy for a long time, and couldn't have ever imagined leaving it. Yet, here she was, crouching in the darkness like a predator waiting to pounce.

She could feel her muscles coiled, but they didn't feel the same as they had before, where they tingled with warmth, wanting to be released. Instead, they felt cold, waiting for the right moment to expend their energy. Cinder knew this was a change from what she had gotten used to, but she also found herself rather enjoying it.

She crept slowly towards the door, still able to hear the breathing through it. There would be a wonderful payoff at the end of all this, she was sure.

As she got nearer to the door, she straightened up, still being careful to not make any sound. She turned the doorknob slowly, smiling as she found it not locked. Perhaps the door didn't have a lock. It didn't matter, though. She stepped into the room,

The girl screamed, and as Cinder entered the dark bedroom, she scrambled as best she could away, unfortunately for her, she tripped over some small object on the ground, and hit the floor with a heavy thud, air being forced from her lungs. Cinder didn't make any sudden movements towards her, instead opting to walk slowly towards her, the smile spreading across her face. She could see perfectly in the dark, so the woman's expression of sheer terror was clear as day to her.

It was delicious. Clearly, this woman wasn't going to face only death, but something that she dreaded much worse. From her window she had seen people in the streets do terrible things, unable to control or sate their most primal desires. And she was going to join them, she knew it.

She scrambled away from Cinder as best she could, arms and legs failing to find a solid hold from which she could get to her feet. Instead, she was forced to continue pushing herself along the floor. Cinder continued to approach her, making sure that her shape was visible in the light coming in from the window. The woman started to plead with her as she tried to back up, shouting, "No, please, stay back! I don't want that! Just leave me alone!"

Tears were starting to stream down her face, and Cinder could hear her panicked breathing start to be obstructed by mucus in her nose. The poor thing didn't know what wonderful things awaited her. Cinder wasn't going to give it to her immediately, though. She still had experiments to do.

With one deft motion almost too fast for the eye to see, she took one lunging step towards her, and wrapped a hand around her throat, lifting her off the ground. Her begging and pleading had degraded to simple sobbing now, unable to form any kind of coherent sentence. Cinder took a few steps through the room and towards the window, then came to a stop in front of it.

The glass was fairly thin, about what she had expected, and didn't see, to have much in the way of dirt or grime clinging to its surface. It seemed quite clean, all things considered. With one forceful motion, she shoved the woman through, her back shattering the glass, sending small shards to explode on the street below. Her legs were scraped on the way through by pieces that had not had the mercy to leave the window frame completely. Her shoulders suffered similar injuries, and she now hung out of the building suspended over the street by only Cinder's arm.

She made a few more sputtering attempts to speak, and did her best to claw at Cinder's hand. Cinder didn't let her grip slip, though. She studied the woman's face carefully, watching the sheer terror and fear take hold over her. It wasn't unlike pleasure, really. There was no way that they woman could control it, and it dominated everything that she felt. Cinder found that there was an energy to be found in this, different than what she found in her other senses. She liked it.

She spoke to the woman, trying to get her to feel as much fear as possible. "What will it be? Do you want to join, or do you want to splatter?" The woman's crying intensified, and her legs started to swing in an attempt to get back in through the window. Cinder smirked, looking at the feeble attempts, and said, "What, you wish to join me? It's that, or the pavement."

Another round of wet blubbering came from her, and Cinder started to draw her closer. She had her fun, now it was time to give the gift to the girl.

She pulled her close, and gave her a loving smile. "Don't worry. It will be fine. You'll love what you'll become." She pulled the girl in the window, dragging her across the glass again, and started her corrupting work.

When she left the house, she knew the woman would wake up devoted completely to her. She had gotten the same "special treatment" that all of her close followers got. There was nothing she could do but beg Cinder not to leave.

On the way out, something spoke out of the darkness, making her jump. "A shame, what you've done. Could've been so much more, but…" there was a pause, and Cinder turned to face the direction of the voice. "…you gave yourself up to such a petty being. Disappointing, really, wasted potential."

Cinder's eyes searched for the source of the voice, but she was only able to find a peculiar spot of darkness, far too dark to see though like she could everywhere else. It was by the door, situated in a corner, small enough that she would have missed it if she had not heard anything. She took a few steps towards it, and raised an eyebrow, trying to discern anything she could about it.

The thing continued to speak after the pause, and its bizarre speech, seemingly composed of hundreds of whispering voices. "You could've left her to wallow in that fear, never escaping the misery of tonight. None would have found her. She would have starved herself to death, a sweet end indeed."

Cinder narrowed her eyes, not trusting the mysterious being. "I give these people more pleasure than they could ever imagine. They love me for it. I spread the most wonderful thing that can exist."

There was a snort, like a thousand people at once, and the voice continued, "You delude them. You show them things that are not true, and drug them into submission. A cowardly thing to do, and I know all about cowardice."

The voice kindled some memory within Cinder. It wasn't something that she had heard exactly, but as it spoke, it had seemed to surround her, then to come from within her own mind. It hit her very suddenly what it reminded her of, and instantly she responded to it. "Master, is that you? You sound-"

The voices interrupted her, saying angrily, "I am not that addled hermaphroditic beast you serve! That creature hasn't even told you who I am, has it?" Cinder didn't want this thing speaking ill of her master, but she could feel the power within the whispers. She didn't answer, and the voices all gave small, echoing chuckles. "Of course it hasn't. I wouldn't expect so. Allow me to provide some disambiguation for your foolish, destroyed brain."

The darkness moved towards her, but she could still not see a single thing through it. As it drew closer, the warmth seemed to drain from the air around her, and she felt the pleasure that resulted from the carnal acts start to drain away. Its absence smashed into her like a hammer blow to the face, and she fell to her knees, gagging at how the smoke-filled air tasted.

The voices spoke again, now in taunting tones. "Do you see what you are when the veil is lifted? How truly weak and pathetic you are?" She tried to pull herself to her feet, but her legs, as strong as they were, wouldn't respond. Without the smoke smelling as sweet as it had before, her body went into revolt. She felt like her lungs were trying to jump out of her body. In a similar vein, the sounds outside that had been a deafening chorus before now raked across her head like shards of metal. She was certain that her ears were bleeding.

Something else was starting to creep into her mind as her thoughts slowly remembered how to function without the pleasure. What was this thing? And why could it do this? "You serve the master of pleasure, yet you dabble in my domain. I find your lord disdainful, but you could be of use to me. In the same way that you serve pleasure, I am fear. Now, mortal, will you champion my cause as well as Cramus?" The mention of her master's name snapped her attention to the thing before her, even though the pain. If it was a powerful demon, like it claimed, than it could be a rival of her master's.

She shook her head, retching as she did so, and choked out the words, "Never! I'll spread…" the smoke seemed to bear down upon her "…my master to all!"

With the final word of her exclamation, the spot of darkness disappeared, and what she had learned as her world returned to her. The smoke again tasted sweet in her mouth, and her lungs seemed to welcome more with enthusiasm. She stood, still shaking from being depraved of the glorious sensations she had become accustomed to. They returned in full force however, and it wasn't long before she was shaking for a very different reason.

After recovering, she made her way out of the house, and rejoined the attack.

Everything felt good again, but still, there was something wrong. Where before she had not a care in the world, she now felt herself anxious. Small noises made her jump, and she started to expect enemies to present themselves and attack her. Why she felt this, she couldn't say, but she also could not stop thinking about how horrible it had been to be torn away from her master's gift, even for just a few seconds. She never wanted it to happen again, and swore to herself that she would not let it. This made her feel slightly better, and she started to focus more on the attack.

It was going well. Over half the city had been taken, and there was no sign that any Hunters, Huntresses, or army was going to stop them. People had started to flee the city, but Cinder let them go. Without the transit the city offered, very few would be able to leave Menagerie, and those who didn't would know her gift. Then they would have enough strength to challenge the foul creatures of the undead.

The mere thought made her shudder again. If becoming how she had been before meeting her master was as horrible as it had been, than imagining the vacuum of feelings they had was physically disturbing. How anyone could do something so terrible to themselves, she could not fathom.

Her attentions returned fully to the conquest, the giving of the greatest mercy she could give. Many thousands were freed from their bleak existence, saved from the monotony that the horrible world they lived in tried to force upon them. Buildings burned, things happened in the streets, and pleasure reigned. It wasn't long before everything fell to anarchy, people simply doing what they needed to too feel good.

Cinder looked around, reviling in what they had done. What she had done. Huntsmen had been converted to their side, and would lend their aid in the battle against Naze. She saw many mighty warriors among them, and knew that they would do well. An eagerness started to boil within her about fighting them, and she started to lose patience. She wanted to fight them now, not to wait and plan. The small, rational part of her brain, however, insisted that they take all of Menagerie first. It was begrudgingly that she complied.

Three in the morning was generally a bad time to wake up, but Pyrrha didn't have much in the way of other choices. Her bladder was protesting about the strain it was under, and she had to oblige it. Groggily, she carefully extracted herself from Jaune's still sleeping arms, and got to her feet. Her balance was unsteady, and she found herself groggier than she had expected, but she was still able to make her way to the bathroom. The thing that did give her trouble though, was her eye patch. She nearly stumbled on a few things that she passed on the way, and she could feel an itching sensation beneath the cool metal.

Once she closed the door behind her, she flicked the light on, and turned to the mirror. She didn't look good. She looked about as tired as she felt, and had several smudges on her face. Her hair was somewhat wild, but still in the general style that it had been yesterday, pulled behind her head in a ponytail.

With some hesitance, she reached up to her face, and removed the eye patch. She didn't like doing this, it made her uncomfortable, but it was certainly not as bad as doing it in front of Jaune. Every time she did that, she could practically feel the guilt radiating off of him. And Nora now had to be taken into consideration as well. She had expressed great sorrow at what she'd done, but Pyrrha wished that she wouldn't. What happened wasn't her fault, and she needed to accept that. It was the demon who had corrupted her.

The bronze piece of metal came away, and instantly a different smell filled the air. It wasn't foul, as if the wound was infected, but simply fleshy, and unpleasant. Pyrrha wondered if it was only to her that the smell was evident, or if someone else would pick up on it too. She tended to her more immediate needs before tending to the eye, then, when she was done, took several tissues and wet them down. Next, leaning forwards towards the mirror, she started to gingerly clean the area.

It wasn't hard to do at all, but there was something very strange about things being so close to her eye that she couldn't see. After she had completed this, she picked up the eye patch and gave it an equally thorough washing. When she was done, she put it back on, and took a step back, looking at herself in the mirror as best she could.

Perhaps a little worse for wear, but not too bad, considering the things that had happened recently. She even managed to smile a little when she thought about the larger picture of things that had happened. They had gotten Nora back. They had done it. The team was back together! Nora was heavily depressed, and Ren was comatose, but it took steps, not leaps, to get where one was going. She knew that Jaune would be down on himself about things not returning to normal immediately, but if she were totally honest with herself, things would probably never return to normal. There had been a few times when Nora had genuinely frightened Pyrrha when they talked. She knew that Nora didn't mean to, and she knew that she would probably be careful to keep it from happening in the future, but that didn't change the fact that it had happened.

But that didn't mean that they should simply give up on their efforts to restore the team. That meant that they had to fight harder. Everything that they had done so far had led up to this, and this would lead to something else. They couldn't simply let all of it go to waste.

She didn't know if Jaune would agree or not, though. She was worried about him, maybe more than anyone else. Whereas Nora had gone very insane very quickly, Jaune was simply spiraling into a depression. That was something that she couldn't stand. If it were to get too bad, and he were to do something drastic, she didn't know what she would do. She would never be the same, that much was certain.

She tried to push the thoughts from her mind, and instead think about something a little happier. While it took her a while to think of something, she decided that she would watch TV until someone else woke up who she could talk to.

She left the room again, making sure to turn the light off before she opened the door, and walked into the main hospital room. Nora, Jaune, and Ren were all just as she had left them, not having moved the slightest inch. She took the remote from the stand next to Ren, and sat down in one of the larger chairs before flicking the TV on.

The thing that she saw when the TV came on made her jaw drop, and she soul be filled with dread. A late night newscast, with poor signal and even worse visuals, was telling about some kind of attack on Menagerie. It was all too much for her. Her eyes started to water, but she couldn't look away from the screen. Pictures of the city burning, and horrible, horrible things happening to the people on the street. She wanted to turn it off. It was lucky that the sound was muted, else everyone else in the room would have been awoken by the roar of terror.

With her mouth agape, she started to sweat as she stared at the screen. Here she had been, thinking about the bigger picture. All the effort it had taken to reclaim Nora, and now there was a whole city lost to the things that had taken her. What it would take to bring that place back, she couldn't imagine. She suddenly she felt like she was going to be sick.

Naze looked into his orb of control, observing the destruction of the city through the many eyes of the shades, most of whom had been forced away. Demons were one of the few things that could harm shades, having the ability to consume souls. As such, Naze had ordered they all retreat to a safe distance before he lost any of them. Now they hovered, only able to observe the loss of a city.

If the world required evidence that the demons were dangerous, this would serve very well as a warning.

He looked through the part of his mind that linked him to all of her servants, searching for heroes that might already be in Menagerie. There weren't many. As it turned out, most of the Faunus heroes throughout history weren't remembered very well. A few, from the White Fang, and others from the Great War, but a comparatively smaller number than anywhere else. It wasn't his concern, though. Perhaps those who would've defended the city could be used to retake it. He didn't have issue with that.

None were in the city itself, though, so this hardly mattered anyways. He was in the midst of thinking of what could be gained from this situation when something occurred to him. He had a demon subject in his possession, and could be taking the opportunity to study if it could tell what was going on. He had been too focused on a small avenue of action.

He was sure that his researchers had not overlooked the opportunity, though. He started to make his way to their lair, looking forward to hearing what was going on with the demon Tiny. It was a strange one, not seeming to have been birthed by any greater demon, instead drawing strength from souls it fed on. That could grant it a unique independence, and it would surely have some knowledge of all the demons who were trying to make Remnant their playground.

When he reached the darkened area, he did indeed find that his warlocks were interacting with Tiny. It was not, however, in the way that he had expected. Tiny was in the midst of what appeared to be some sort of fit, its body expanding and contracting violently. It looked like the thing was about to explode.

Naze could feel the demonic power in the air, permeating even through the shield that separated the demon and the undead. Whatever was happening obviously was beyond their current understanding. The warlocks were not working to do anything with the demon, but only to contain it. Without their fortifying the bonds, whatever was happening could threaten to break out of the rune. Something else was clear, too, now that Naze was in the room. The demon, whatever it was doing, had somehow cut the room off from the communication they normally used. With the warlocks having to focus almost entirely on containment, and the area being saturated in demonic power, it was exceedingly difficult for them to contact their master.

Now that he was present, though, he lent his power to the strengthening of the barrier, and stepped towards the circle, bringing his hands up. As if waiting for this to happen, Tiny's body was torn apart, and a screech that would have burst a mortal's eardrums echoed through the chamber. In Tiny's place was left a roaring, twisting, reality-warping portal. Naze instantly recognized the demonic portal, and was about to order the rift smothered when thousands of small, distinct whispers said, "Wait, lich. I've come to deal, not to attack."

Naze let the command slip from his throat, and instead inquired, "With whom am I to deal?"

He did not let his guard over the shield break. He knew that doing so would likely lead to the demon pouring out whatever forces it had out into his ziggurat. Demons were crafty, and they could use any number of lies to their advantage.

The many voices responded, "I am Timor, my good lich, and I think I have a special respect for you." There was a short pause, and then it continued, "May I come in?"

Naze could tell just from the way the thing spoke that it was at least trying to appear a powerful demon. He could also tell that this "Timor" was not the same demon that Cinder served. Naze gave a small nod towards the portal, indicating the affirmative, and in response, there was a discordant, "Good."

The portal started to stretch, and tendrils of shadow started to work their way out. They steamed, the air around them sizzling on contact with the air. They burned away gradually, but also seemed to be pulling something out. The warlocks around him started to react to what was emerging, but Naze could still see nothing beyond the tendrils. The reactions that emerged from his warlocks seemed to indicate fear, but they only lasted for a brief moment before they managed to get themselves back under control.

After a few seconds, the tentacles gave a harder pull, and something was pried from the bowels of the portal. Naze wasn't sure what to make of the thing. It appeared to shift features, being a general humanoid shape, with countless faces writhing across its form. It seemed to resemble certain people in all its changing, but only ever for the briefest of moments. First it was Ruby, a wide smile on her face, than it was Brazen, charred skin hanging off his body. It changed again and again, and Naze got the distinct feeling that it was searching for a certain form.

The thing spoke again, and Naze observed countless faces turning over in its skin, speaking as they did so, "Now then, down to business. I made an offer to the halfwit Cramus's champion, and she refused my generous offer. I'm sure you know how the game between us lords works, yes?"

Naze gave a small shrug and replied, "To some degree. I know you compete for power, but that is the rough extent."

All the faces along Timor's body smiled, and it said, "Ah, I see. Well, without giving too much away, both I and that horrid wretch have found this world of Remnant, and he wants to take a more active role in taking it. The fool doesn't realize the value it has not. Warriors are naturally tempered here, and have unique recourses available to them. I would prefer to simply draw on the world, taking those here or there who might be fit to serve me, and otherwise not intervene. Cramus, on the other hand, has different plans."

The first thing that Naze asked was not about their great game, nor how he knew he could trust the demon, but, "He?"

Timor's multitude of faces gave a series of chuckles, and then said, "Male, female, androgynous, hermaphrodite, it matters not. Those aren't the most of its choices, either. Now, as I said, I would like to keep this world in a relatively unchanged state. Or, if Cramus is going to her its way, I want at least a portion for myself. I was denied, however, and now I don't want that fool to have any on it. She may have a head start, but I know you have been foiling her plans. So, I would propose a deal: you repel this scum, and I will help you in your quest for knowledge."

If Naze had eyebrows to raise, he would've done so. There were many questions now, but the foremost one was the one he asked first. "How do I know that you will not take Cramus's place, and do the same thing?"

The millions of faces all scoffed at once, and the demon replied, "Because Remnant is already afraid. The very civilization is built upon fear. Fear of the Grimm, fear of each other…" as it spoke, the demon started to take more definite forms, now figures from his past. People who had lived in his village, and those who had learned necromancy with him. "…Fear is a powerful thing, but you should never cause too much. Besides, Cramus is already losing, and that's why it's making such a desperate attempt. He won't lose, of course, he just doesn't want to concede. She never does."

It paused for a few seconds, like thinking of something else to say, then said, "And, before you ask, I actually like you undead folks. Sure, you usually can't feel fear, but you're great at causing it." The demon offered a wink, which, with millions of eyes, looked more like a spasm. "So that's why I've come to you. In a way, you've always worked for me. You just didn't know it. Even with your recent efforts to be accepted, people still fear you. And they'll never stop. But fear and acceptance are very far apart, and have little to do with one-another."

Naze said, "I can understand that. Will you aid me in driving this incursion from the world, or is it to only be a reward?"

Timor smiled again, and answered, "I'll give you whatever you need to accomplish your goal, then you get your reward at the end. You know the trick to that, though, I'm sure." Naze did. It was the kind of deal where demons made a charge for all the help they gave, or gave help in the form of tricks, overall doing damage to those who used them. He wouldn't be asking for anything.

The barrier holding the demon was starting to weaken, and the warlocks were starting to buckle under their efforts. He had to get rid of the demon soon.

But that didn't mean that he would answer the question rashly, as was likely the demon's intent. The demon proposed rewarding something that he was already planning on doing, which was suspicious, but it also seemed to have some affinity for him. That affinity could be a fabrication, or it could be genuine, there was no way to know. But, there was the option of simply backing out, seeing as nothing had been, or could be corrupted in the ziggurat, given their precautions.

The barrier started to audibly strain, a high pitched ringing sound, and Naze nodded. "Yes, I'll see what can be done. Now, be gone from my home."

The demon laughed, and in the blink of an eye, dashed back into its portal, which was squeezed shut by the pressure of the reality that surrounded it without the power from the demon. Naze wasn't sure, as it had happened too quickly for even him to see, but he thought that the final form the demon had taken was that of him, in his life, when he had turned to drunkenness to try and kill himself. If the demon was one of fear, that was certainly a form that would rouse such an emotion from him, if he were unstable, as he had been after waking. Luckily, it seemed that the demon had missed that window by a few weeks.