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Cinder gave one final cry as she plunged the wicked dagger into the sacrifice's chest, seeing the light fade from their eyes, and their struggles against their bonds cease. Their body died as the dark crimson fluid poured from their chest, and spattered onto the floor in front of the portal. Their blood wasn't the only thing to leak out of their body, however. Their soul, the very thing that made them, was sucked away as well, slipping through the air like the blood flowed to the floor. Both substances were consumed by the glowing rip, and it was shortly after that more demons started to spill forth.

These beasts were not the spindly gargoyles that Cinder had been given before. These were larger, and more humanoid in shape and behavior. They were not missing the wings of their cousins though, and would be of great assistance in taking the nearby airship for their own. As they crawled from the portal, Cinder took the time to admire the bodies of her new servants. They were sleek, not ugly, but beautiful, and of course had a variety of horn-like protrusions on their heads and arms, the kind that she could easily see being used in battle. Each one was a foot taller than the average man, and carried itself with a kind of otherworldly grace. It was the kind of thing that couldn't quite be explained, only felt. When she compared the demons' movements to those of the humans around her, she found the latter almost robotic by comparison.

She was sure that their speed would match their grace, and that they would be indispensable in the battle to come. They would fly alongside their gargoyle cousins, and make the airship theirs, whether they had to seduce those aboard it or slaughter them.

It wasn't long after the summoning that Cinder started to assemble a force of those who she knew would take to combat best. Those who were most devout, willing to lay their lives down in an instant, and those who were strong, both physically and in aura. Some of them were given simple weapons, makeshift things that would be unlikely to do much on their own, kitchen knives and sharpened gardening implements. The village didn't have any resident Huntsmen or Huntresses, so they didn't have any access to higher-end weapons. Demons would be able to serve nicely, though.

Once the force was assembled, they were all gathered in the central square of the town, and met with the demons that would bear them up to their target. All of them shuffled with a kind of uneasy energy, as though they almost wanted to betray their mistress, but only in order to carry out her will. It was an odd sensation, and many of them wished that she would merely set them loose. Cinder did not do this, though. If things like this were to be enjoyed, every moment had to be savored. They didn't understand that, but such was why she was chosen by her lord. She would teach them even more then she already had.

The demons, for their part, seemed every bit an anxious as the people. They wanted to claim more souls, just the same as Cinder did, but they could hardly contain their urge. It was only Cinder's willpower alone that kept them on the ground, away from the airship above. There were about fifty human followers, and one hundred or so demons. Cinder thought about accompanying the relatively small force, but in the end decided that she would stay behind. It was not her place to spread her pleasure up there. Instead, she would stay back, and make sure that everything would go well from afar. It wouldn't be easy. She wanted to go, and show those people up there just how fantastic life could be, but the risk was too great. If she were injured, or worse, died, then the hope of more people knowing her wonderful ecstasy would become little more than a dream.

It was half an hour before she deemed to herself that their desire to grow and to spread had fermented long enough. When the invisible clock in her head hit its end, she walked to the large platform on one end of the square and cleared her throat loudly, announcing her presence. The sound wasn't much louder than the sounds around the square, but it held a certain ineffable quality that made it carry out to every ear. Conversations died on the tongues of those who spoke, and heads of humans and demons alike turned to gaze at her. It felt good to see all of the eyes, glimmering obediently, waiting for her word.

She spoke loud, but the velvety drawl in her voice never wavered for an instant. "My dear friends, the time has come for us to show the rest of this miserable world the heights of pleasure! Most people out there have never even imagined the things that you have felt these past few days! I think that that is one of the biggest travesties of all! So now, show them!" As she spoke, she started to believe the words. It was no longer just about control or power, it was now a righteous cause that she fought for. After all, it only took one look at the world to see how bleak and miserable it really was. And the cure for this horrible malady was now at the tips of her fingers. She couldn't simply keep it to herself.

A shout went up among her disciples, and they rushed to follow her command. The humans among them mounted the gargoyles, and the seducers spread their huge wings, pushing off the ground with powerful legs and taking to the sky with the same elegance that they did virtually everything else. The gargoyles took to the sky as well, carrying the humans on their thin backs.

Like a murder of bizarrely shaped crows, the flock of roughly a hundred and fifty bodies started to approach the airship. Cinder watched with her own eyes for a time, standing still and gazing up at the sky. The airship had proved to be an oppressive influence, firing on any who tried to leave the town. This did make the puzzle of where Roman and Neo went slightly more interesting, but it was still something that she did not need to focus on. Instead, as the bodies started to fade into the distance, she made a small shift in her mind, closing her eyes. She reached out with her mind to one of the many smaller facets that had appeared in her head that represented her demonic minions and pulled its mind closer to hers. As she did this, a new world of sensory information became available. She could see through the demon's eyes, feel the cool air rushing over the demon's skin, and smell the very scent of those that the demon pursued.

It was difficult to not let herself get lost in the sudden sensation, but she kept herself together, and made good use of her new vision. The demon she had chosen was near the front of the flock, and its wings beat with a power that could not be matched by anything. It soared through the air, upwards, and Cinder knew its thoughts as it started to push itself through the air even faster.

There were flat portions on the exterior of the airship meant for people to walk on, catwalks to separate parts of the ship, but none of those were the demon's target. Its target was the glass of the bridge of the ship. Cinder knew that the glass had to be tremendously strong, but the confidence in the demon's mind made Cinder think that it would be no match for the speeding beast.

With the demon's superior eyes, she could see inside of the glass. In the bridge, people were just starting to see that things were amiss. They had had no warning that this was a capability of those that they had been directed to contain. Rousing into action as fast as was required to stop them was impossible, and the demon clashed into the clear viewport, a kind of predatory glee overtaking it. To kill or to corrupt, it didn't matter. So long as it was furthering its cause, the ravenous appetite of the pleasure-seeker would be sated.

Cinder allowed herself to lower into the sensations at the creature started to enact her will, and reached out to all of the demons that served her. If she could feel the wonder of multiple, why limit herself to just one?

Ozpin sucked in an uncharacteristically nervous breath as he awaited the verdict that the council of leaders had reached. They had been given the list, as well as time to deliberate the outcome. His only hope, one that he shared with Ironwood, he was sure, was that they would accept. It was the most amicable solution, and one that they desperately needed. He had seen what a demon could do to an innocent schoolgirl, seemingly incorruptible, and he knew that he couldn't let it happen to anyone else.

The presentation had gone well, there had been no errors and they had seemed to be in support of the whole thing, but there was no telling with politicians like them. He wasn't normally one for ticks, but his fingers tapped against his cane impatiently.

His eyes flicked up to Ironwood's face, displayed on the screen on Ozpin's desk. They had remained on an open communication channel since the presentation, and hadn't spoken much during it. There had been a few terse words at first, but then pregnant silence had settled in. There was nothing to say. They could only wait.

Ironwood's eyes rose to his screen, just like Ozpin's had, and the two simply stared at each other for a few moments before looking away again. Normally Ozpin would have said something about the man's fresh haircut, or his ever-sharp wardrobe, or perhaps ask him how his arm was feeling, but it was obviously not the time for that. Instead, Ozpin's eyes wandered his office until coming to rest on Naze. Or, at least, Naze's avatar. It was an odd thing to think about that one's actions could be forwarded in such a manner, but it wasn't too different from the androids used commonly throughout Remnant.

The body of a teenager simply sat in the chair across from him, as stiff as a board. It had not moved in quite some time, and it was growing increasingly difficult to imagine it moving at all. Naze had made it clear that he had other matters to attend to then to sit and wait in an office, and withdrawn his consciousness from the thing, simply leaving it in place. It could be taken as a gesture of trust, Ozpin supposed, but he would have preferred it greatly that he relocate it before vacating it.

What Naze had said that he would be working on, though, was far more important than Ozpin's momentary comfort. He was going to be overseeing final preparations of the generators that would give the living their best chance against their hellish foes, and he would be ensuring the teams that would exhume and resurrect the heroes of old would be functioning at their utmost peak. He had also made an offhand comment about Nora Valkyrie, but Ozpin had not had the chance to ask what he meant by it. Thinking of the girl again filled him with sorrow and regret. Right under his nose, something horrendous had happened, and he had done so little to stop it. So little to bring her back, as well. There were no available Huntsmen or Huntresses, but that was still no excuse. He should have gone himself to combat and subdue her, and bring both her and Lie Ren back. It was one more shame that he would bear forever.

Glynda had popped into his office briefly to make sure that everything was alright, but he had made it clear through short responses and distracted attention that he was not in the mood for talking. It was truly a shame, he deeply enjoyed his discussions with the woman, but now was simply not the time. There was too much on the line. No one else seemed to be very aware of it, either. The media had not brought much attention to the demons, much to his surprise, and that was good, for a time. They would have to learn, though, and Ozpin had included in his presentation that all kingdoms should make a formal declaration of war on the new threat as soon as possible. It would bring to an end the "era of peace" that all leaders were so proud of, but it was a necessary step. If they didn't, then the scope of what was happening could be lost on the everyman.

He continued to sink deeper and deeper in his thoughts, fighting to keep them ordered and manageable, for what felt like an eternity. When finally a dull tone sounded, and a notification appeared on his screen, he gave it his full attention in a heartbeat. It was a textual message, and much shorter than he had expected, but it was nevertheless a godsend to break the tension. He opened it, and when he read the words, relief washed over him. "You're proposition has been reviewed and accepted. Coordination with Naze the Eternal will commence immediately. This council thanks you deeply for your contribution."

He looked over to the window where Ironwood's face was, and saw him reading the message in the same manner that he just had. When he looked back to Ozpin, he had a warm smile on his face, mirroring Ozpin's almost perfectly. "Well" Ozpin started "that is certainly a weight off my shoulders. I'm sure I couldn't have done it without you, James."

James gave a small chuckle and said "Perhaps, old friend, perhaps. But I wouldn't have trusted that undead without you, I'm sure." Ozpin didn't take issue with taking credit for that. It was probably true anyways. "It's a little early for celebration, though, don't you think? I mean, we are entering into wartime now."

Ozpin sighed, and nodded his head. "Yes, I am aware. It's a shame, really, but at least it is not between kingdoms." His slight glint of optimism was appreciated by Ironwood, who nodded, saying "At least there's that."

The two sat in silence for a few more moments, neither one sure of what to say. It seemed rude to simply hang up on the call, but this news gave them both plenty to do. After a few more seconds then were comfortable, Ironwood said "Well, it's been a pleasure catching up with you, Oz, but I'm afraid that this fills my schedule rather well for a while. We can chat again later, right?" Ozpin nodded, and said "Always, James."

The General nodded again. "Good, good. Give my regards to Glynda, would you? I'm sure she will be delighted to have them." Ozpin smiled at the final sarcastic remark, then bid his friend goodbye. As the call closed, and he was left in the slow grinding of the gears in his office, he contemplated what it really meant. They would be at war, no small prospect. Things were going to change, that was for certain, but in no way that he would be able to predict.

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw something move, and looked up to find the puppet of Naze looking at him, the same distant, slightly worrying intelligence shining through as always did when the thing was being used.

Ozpin decided that it would be best to share the news without delay. "The deal was accepted. You can start operations anytime."

Naze nodded, and said "I am aware." In the unreadable monotone that Ozpin had come to expect from statements that he made no effort in humanizing. Ozpin didn't let this deter him, though, and asked "Where will you begin? And how will you find the souls of those who have already faded?" He referred to the term "fading" like it was a well-known thing, and not a result of being told by the lich. It rose no special reaction, though, and Naze answered again in the monotonous way that he had. "There are enough teams to begin operations on every landmass simultaneously, and they should be finished rather quickly. All individuals are expected to have some delay between being risen and joining in their duties, though. Many relied on aura to fight, and must either adapt without it or relearn its use." There was a short pause, then he continued. "As for your second question, that is a matter of necromancy that you've no advanced understanding of. Suffice it to say that items or places where memory is strong of an individual are far easier to locate a spirit at." Ozpin nodded, and said "Ah, I see. Well, Yang's list was nothing if not comprehensive. I'm certain that you will have no trouble finding such things."

Naze nodded, and said "Yes, she did an excellent job. However, I do recall that there was one individual that she gave very little information about. She has not shared any further information with me since, and seems hesitant to do so. Perhaps you could inform me as to something I could use in this fashion?"

Ozpin took a few seconds to think about the question, then shook his head. "I would like to tell you about Summer, but I'm afraid that this is not my place. I must apologize, but if you want this information, and Miss Xiao Long refuses to tell you, my only suggestion would be to go to her daughter, Ruby. It seems that it should be her place to share that information."

Naze nodded, still somehow remaining monotone, saying "Very well." He stood from his chair, and bowed his head respectfully. "Then I believe our business is concluded. I wish you a good day, and luck in your pursuits in the coming conflict. The generators are being hauled out to their various destinations now as we speak." Ozpin smiled and stood, and said "Thank you. I will be sure to inform everyone that they are on the way."

The two bid each other farewell, and Naze walked into the elevator that lead from Ozpin's office. As the elevator took him back down to the ground floor, he spoke through his mind to Yang, telling her that he was going to speak with her sister. It was not something that he looked forward to doing, but if she wished to see her mother again, she was going to have to provide him the information he needed. A grave, a weapon, perhaps even a garment would be good enough. But, if Ruby could not provide these things, either because she was unable to share, or because such things didn't exist, then it was always an option to use to girl herself. An unpleasant experience, to be sure, but one that was necessary.

Yang affirmed that Ruby would be ready to talk once Naze reached them, and that she was, in fact, looking forward to it. It was a good thing, he supposed. He didn't enjoy talking with her, he didn't enjoy much of anything. At least, he tried not to. It was an emotion, and thus a weakness of his. Luckily, his emotion had started to fade as of late. It was the most positive thing that he could think of happening recently. But the emotion was still not totally gone, much to his ire. Small fragments of feelings could reside around for any amount of time, and sometimes grew back into full outbursts.

The doors slid open again, and the puppet started to walk nearly of its own accord. It only contained the smallest vestiges of his thoughts now. Instead, his focus was primarily on the things that were happening inside of his necropolis.

Azrile looked again down at the list of items that had to be checked before being shipped out. Divinity generators, and teams of ghouls with the task of retrieving the bodies of heroes where they could. People probably wouldn't be too happy about their ancestral resting places being torn up, but that was the way of war.

Bleached white fingers of bone thumbed through the list as he made sure everything was present. A few generators were behind schedule, but they would be finished within several minutes. A few undead craftsmen were putting the final touches on them, engraving runes and aligning enchantments as was needed. They were all careful to keep from activating the machines, though. To a creature of necromantic origin, divine power could be dangerous.

Aside from the few generators that still required work, the count came up exact, and he moved on to the retrieval teams. One hundred and twenty five teams, a nice, round number, each composing of ten Gravedigger zombies and a single necromancer. It wasn't quite what would be happening if the undead themselves were at war, but then again, it had been a long time since that happened. He still remembered the events freshly, though. The last time that they had participated in an all-out war, they had created teeming hordes of monstrosities, raiding entire cemeteries and collecting corpses from battle to fuel the offensive.

Those days were long past. Not simpler by any stretch of the imagination, those were days when the living were always outright hostile, and could not be negotiated with. Now that he thought about it, he had quite forgotten what it was like to be alive. He didn't regard the time he had spent with a beating heart with any kind of special feeling, so it was difficult to miss, but it was still puzzling for him to think about how the living had changed.

Even their souls had changed over time, becoming ridged and stubborn. Whether this was reflected in the way that they acted, he did not yet know. He didn't have enough experience interacting with them. It was difficult to imagine that humans could get any more stubborn.

When he had been alive, his soul was fluid. Not everyone was like that, of course, Not everyone was cut out for magic. But now it seemed that magic had left them entirely. Forgotten for thousands of years. Maybe they could relearn, maybe they couldn't. He supposed that Naze had considered this too, and still found it fit to try and teach them. Rather uncharacteristic, but there was probably a reason. He knew that Naze probably wanted to study the effects of magic being introduced. He didn't blame him, the concept was fascinating. But he wouldn't get that data if they were destroyed by demons.

He shook his head to himself. Whatever his master's reasons, he was sure that they would come to fruition. Whether in a matter of days, or centuries, they always seemed to come true.

The final touches on the remaining generators finished out, and he gave the signal to start moving them. Transport would be fast, and the living would have their generators by nightfall. The necromancers would also go to work, and start in on their jobs. Things were starting to pull together.

When Naze reached the dorm building, he glanced up to see Ruby looking out of her window at him before he entered. This might've been somewhat foreboding, if Ruby had not had her face pressed against the glass in a childish manner. On the way into the building, he passed Blake, Weiss, and Yang, all heading out. On the way past, Yang gave him a wink, indicating that she was doing this for the purpose of giving them some privacy. It was appreciated, because their presence would likely distract the girl.

As he walked up the stairs, heavy footsteps alerted him to the fact that Ruby was not able to contain herself, and was coming to meet him. He braced for the possible onslaught of words that would be flung at him, and as he rounded the corner, Ruby almost collided with him.

His reaction time was fast, as it usually was, and he stepped to the side in a fashion that would have simply allowed Ruby to go past him down the stairs. She tried to stop before this, digging her heels into the ground and throwing her arms out as she skidded towards the steps. She stopped, heels just on the edge, and teetered unsteadily, about to fall.

Naze reached out and took a fistful of her hood, noting briefly the rose peddles that followed behind her. She teetered for a moment more before Naze continued walking towards her room, pulling her with him for a short time to make sure that she was steadily upright. He hadn't said a word so far, and his silence continued as he walked. He had the distinct impression that Ruby would be the first to speak anyways.

This inclination proved to be correct, and Ruby opened her mouth to say "So you need to talk to me about Mom, right?" Naze nodded, letting go of her and saying "Yes, I require information that could aid me in finding her spirit."

She stumbled for a moment as the responsibility to propel herself returned to her, and she started to walk again. "Well that's good, because I really want to see her again!" Excitement was practically bursting from every pore of the girl's body, which was a stark contrast from the stiff, almost robotic movements. The two walked down the hallway towards her room, and she started to speak quickly the whole way, telling Naze a whole list of things that wouldn't actually help him at all. Included in the list were things like "She always told us super cool bedtime stories before tucking us in." and "Then, this one time, she let me hold the scythe!"

Naze found the volume of things that she said somewhat impressive, but was puzzled by them. He recalled Ruby saying that she didn't actually remember much about her mother. She had been too young when she disappeared to have any real memories of the woman. He voiced this to her, cutting her off abruptly, and saying "Weren't you little more than an infant at this point? How do you remember all this?"

When she heard his doubt, her face turned a shade of red, as if she was embarrassed to have been caught on such a thing. "Well…" she responded "I guess I don't really remember all this stuff, but it's all things that Yang told me about her. I guess that I've thought about them, and tried to picture them for so long that I kind of thought that they were real." Upon hearing this explanation, Naze nodded. False memories were common when one was told about something that happened to them.

They reached the door to her room, and Ruby waved her scroll past the lock, clicking it open and entering her sanctuary in a boisterous manner. Naze followed behind her, gazing around briefly at the décor. It was for the most part unchanged from the last time he had seen it. One or two more posters had appeared on the walls, and the beds that were stacked upon each other dangerously had moved by small increments. Ruby came to a stop when she reached the part of the room where the beds were located, and turned back to look at Naze again. "So, is what I told you good, or do you need to know more?"

What she had told him was a barrage of information almost totally useless for tracking her spirit down. He shook his head and said "No, I'm afraid I need more. Places or people important to her, or objects that she kept on her person. Things that she valued, or things that she might regret. Anything along those lines would be far more useful."

Ruby nodded, then looked down at the floor, taking a seat on the side of Yang's bed, thinking hard. "Let's see, things that she might regret…" After a few seconds, Ruby looked up again, a slightly sad look on her face, and said "Well, I guess that she might regret disappearing. Does that count?" Naze shook his head, replying "Not unless you know why she did it." Ruby's gaze went back to the floor, and she thought harder. "Well, our family lived on the island called Patch, so I guess that's important to her. Could her spirit have gone back after she…" Ruby paused, not wanting to say the word yet "…you know."

Naze shrugged his shoulders stiffly. "Perhaps. She could have done anything after dying, sometimes spirits are difficult to predict. What of items? Did she have anything that she was particularly close to?" Again Ruby bowed her head in thought, and this time seemed to come up with much more of a confident answer. "She always wore a cape, like the one I have. I think my Dad kept a few of them back at home. Other than those, she would be close to her weapon, but no one has that." Her voice tapered off as she finished staying the things that had come to her mind. She looked back up to Naze to see if he had reacted to them, but he had not. One more thing did come to her mind as she looked at Naze, and she said "Well, I guess she was also really close to us, if that counts. If you can use me to do it, I'd do anything you needed."

Naze looked back at her, deadpan, before saying "Is that all?" Ruby looked back at him with a hesitant expression, and replied "Well… not really, I guess. There is one more place, but I don't know if she would have known about it before going. There is a kind of grave on Patch, I used to go there a lot, and I always felt like I was closer to her there than anywhere else." Thoughts of the many times that she had curled up by the thing, crying, came to her mind, and she found her mood quite dampened. It was odd, because she knew that she was helping to bring her mother back, but she was still sad. "If you want to check that, though, there are a lot of Grimm in the area. I was able to deal with it when I was younger, so you should have no problem, but still, you know, be careful."

Naze nodded again, and told her "I think that you have helped quite a bit. And if Patch or that grave is investigated, it will be likely that your presence be requested as well. Sometimes spirits linger around loved ones."

He had acquired the information that he had come for, and turned towards the door to leave. "Thank you Ruby, but now I must take my leave." Before his first step had even been completed, something warm wrapped around the puppet's waist, and he looked down to find Ruby's arms. She was hugging him tightly, and seemed to be more at peace then she had previously. Naze stood still. He recalled the last time she had done something like this, and took the same action he had then. With slow but strong movements, he peeled the girl off of him, and set her at a distance away from himself. "Ah, yes, a hug. Thank you. Goodbye."

Some part of his mind that managed appearing to be human told him that he was being rude by simply leaving, but the rest of his mind didn't care. He had better things to do then to comfort a teenager about the loss of her mother. He opened the door, and crossed it to his own room, opening the door and closing it behind him, ensuring that it was locked properly.

Pyrrha looked to her right out of the corner of her eye, spying the limp form of Nora in the corner of the room. She didn't want her friend to wake up again, as that would cue Neo to engage in another merciless beating. She had only seen it once, but according to Jaune there had been two other occasions where something similar had happened. She had been unconscious for those events though, and only awakened within the last ten minutes.

It was an odd thing to wake to, Jaune playing cards with Roman and Neo, two nefarious criminals, but she had started to do the same, so she didn't have much room to talk on the matter. The four of them were simply waiting for Nora to be picked up. In the far corner of the room, Ren was slumped against the wall, eyes barely open and chest rising and falling rhythmically with his breath. She looked over at Ren again over her shoulder.

She was worried. Nora had done something to him, she was sure. It wasn't just the drug that she seemed to give off, this was something different. Ren wasn't right. He was missing something. She had checked him over for wounds the best she could, even after being told that both Neo and Jaune had already done the same, and found nothing. There was no physical injury that would make him act like this, so it had to be something worse. The whole thing filled her with a feeling of dread, especially because she couldn't do anything about it. Taking Ren to a hospital wasn't an option, because it would require that she leave Jaune alone with Roman and Neo. He had essentially been so while she was unconscious, but there was still no way that she was going to leave him.

Her head pounded painfully, as it had been doing off and on since she woke up. She was sure that Nora had given her at least a concussion, and she knew that she probably needed medical attention as well. She couldn't do anything about it, though, so she figured that she might as well play cards.

The game was not going well. She was on a team with Jaune, playing against the other two. No matter what they did, it always seemed that they lost. She couldn't tell if they were cheating or not, she had never really played cards before, but she couldn't see any obvious trickery. That would be the main goal of cheating, though, so she gave up trying to see if they were. If anyone were to be good at something like that, it would likely be these two. Jaune was better at the game then she had thought he would be. Apparently he had played games like this with his sisters all the time. It showed, too, as he was able to win just a few of their games. After a while, Nora had started to grumble again, stirring slightly in her chains. Everyone knew that this was a precursor to her waking up. Neo put her cards down, careful to keep the others from seeing them, and walked over to Nora's side, taking her parasol in her hands, ready to club Nora over the head.

She waited like this, and Pyrrha looked away. She knew that Neo was waiting for Nora to come into full consciousness. She didn't know why she did this, but it was probably because she enjoyed beating her. She didn't need to speak, the smile that spread across her face slowly as she waited was telling enough. Nora gave a few weak pulls against the chains that enwrapped her, and trying to speak past the rag that was stuffed in her mouth. The rag was a piece of fabric that had been ripped off of one of the blankets she had used in her little nest, and was nothing short of vile. Grime had accumulated on it, and Pyrrha was sure that either Roman or Neo had chosen the scrap because it was so filthy.

Nora's eyes flicked open slowly, and locked on Pyrrha for a few seconds as if pleading for her to help, before Neo brought her parasol down on top of her head, producing a resounding, hollow cracking sound. Nora hadn't had time to really come back into consciousness, so she drifted back off easily. However, Neo had hit her hard enough again to put another small indentation in her skull. The previous ones had healed, but it always looked like the new one was going to be serious. Pyrrha heard the sound, heard the chain go slack again, and looked back at her friend. She was indeed unconscious again, a single line of saliva running down the side of her mouth and onto the floor.

Pyrrha looked away again as Neo walked back over to her cards on the ground, picking them up and resuming the play. Pyrrha could hardly believe that she was simply going back to the game after that, but she had done it once already.

Jaune looked sick, but other than that, the game continued as if nothing had happened. This only happened for a few minutes though, before Neo's head perked up like a dog's towards the stairs, and all attention in the room went to listening.

The sound of footsteps on the floor below was faint at first, but gradually grew louder as the source of them approached, first across the floor, then up the stairs. All of them stood, getting ready to fight if they had to. They didn't know who or what this was going to be, but they would be ready. The head of the person came up through the stairs, and an old, rotting gaze met with them as the corpse stopped walking, eyeing them suspiciously before saying in a throaty growl of a voice "Yes, yes, I'm very dangerous." Sarcasm seemed to be heavy in the thing's voice, but they couldn't be sure. They still couldn't see the rest of its body, and didn't know whether it was armed or not. Its undead nature, however, made it clear that this was the pickup that they had been waiting for.

The person walked up the rest of the steps, and revealed the rest of its figure. It was clad in dark black armor, but didn't appear to have any kind of weapon on it. This strands of tangled hair hung down off of its head, and it looked like it had been left out in the sun and heat for a few days. Dry and tight skin covered the thing's head, but that was all the flesh that they could see. The rest was covered in the thick metal that they used for armor.

The best assumption that any of them could make, based on what they could see, was that it was a male that they were talking to. The man walked up, passing them without comment, and came to Nora's side. Once he reached her, he looked her over for a moment, examining the bonds that Nora had been placed in, then bending over and tugging experimentally on the series of steel rods that had replaced Neo's parasol. He was apparently satisfied with the arrangement, and in one swift motion, swung Nora over his shoulder and started to walk back towards the stairs. As he went, he spoke over his shoulder to Pyrrha and Jaune, saying in a rather dismissive tone for the situation "Your end of the deal is done. Go back to whatever it is you people do. My Lord will do what he can with the girl, and you will be informed of the options." He switched who he was talking to, and said "And you other two know what you must do now. You'll be kept in frequent contact with my Lord."

Pyrrha and Jaune looked at each other, surprised, and Jaune followed after the undead, saying "Wait! Wait, you're just going to take her like that?" The undead stopped, turning on its armored heel on the stairs, a difficult maneuver to pull off while on stairs while wearing heavy armor, and looked at Jaune with a blank expression. "What do you want, to say goodbye? She would have to be awake, and nothing good would happen when she is. This is the best way to do this. You will be informed as to options for her treatment before they are carried out. Now, the sooner I get her back, the better the process will be for everyone. Good day."

With that, the undead turned again and continued to walk out. Jaune watched him go, wanting to do something, but helpless. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to not simply let Nora be taken away, but that was all he could do. It was all that would help her.

A hand touched his shoulder, and he looked back to find Pyrrha giving him the same look that she always did when she was feeling his pain. She hated to see him hurt, and he hated to see her hurt by him. He looked down at the ground, trying to think of something that he could say. He stammered out the beginnings of a few apologies, but none of them got further than the first word. She must've understood what he was trying to say, though, because she wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him close, speaking softly as she did so. "It's alright Jaune. She's going to be helped. Just let her go, and she can get fixed. I know it's hard, but it's what we have to do. We have to get Nora back, and we have to get Ren back."

Jaune put his face in her shoulder, and tried to calm himself down. He needed to focus on something, and the next thing that he knew had to be done was getting Ren to a hospital. He stayed in Pyrrha's arms for a few moments, savoring the feeling, then pushed himself gently away. "You're right. We have to keep moving on. Let's get Ren…" He gestured towards the door, but found his thoughts interrupted by the overwhelming question of what he would do after that. They had abandoned Beacon, and didn't know if they could go back. And what if Ren was beyond help? Or if Nora had no hope of coming back?

These thoughts didn't echo through his head in a peaceful or manageable manner, but scraped against the inside of his skull like they were trying to get out. A stabbing pain shot through his brain, and he cringed under its suddenness. Pyrrha noticed, he knew that she did, but there was nothing that he could do about it.

He walked back up to the floor where Nora had been before, and he picked up Ren in his arms, walking past Roman and Neo without saying a word. As he picked Ren off of the ground Roman walked up behind him and said "Well kid, it's been fun, and I really feel like I got to know you better, but we've got to go. You know, adult business to take care of."

Jaune straightened up, and turned to face Roman. The look that he gave the man was one that he was usually careful to hide from everyone. For just a second, all of the pain that he was feeling shone clearly on his face. Roman and Neo both saw it, and while Neo didn't seem surprised, Roman was slightly taken aback. He didn't say anything, though, and turned back to Neo starting to talk to her again.

Jaune carried Ren back down, and set off with Pyrrha towards the nearest hospital. The whole way, Jaune felt his thoughts spiraling further and further out of control. There was nothing he could do about it, so he simply let it happen. Perhaps, somewhere in the spiraling madness, he would find a purpose.

As the two of them walked, Pyrrha wished that she could do something for her friend. Jaune was obviously suffering, but she couldn't do anything about it. She had offered to carry Ren herself, but Jaune insisted on doing it himself. She had dropped trying to convince him after he had snapped at her, telling her to simply mind her own issues. He had apologized immediately after, but it still hurt. She didn't want to do it, but perhaps the best thing that she could do was leave him alone.

She looked around as they walked, and her eyes fell on the televisions in a shop window. A red ribbon flashed across the top of the screen, and from the distance that she was at, she could just make out the words "MAJOR NEWS ALERT" in white lettering across it. She looked hard, trying to tell anything else about the report, but all other lettering was too small.

She looked to Jaune and said "Look, I wonder what happened." She pointed at the screen and hoped that this would snap Jaune out of the fog he was stuck in. He only glanced at the screen before nodding and turning his head back to the way he was walking. "Yeah." The solitary word was his only response.

Pyrrha sighed, and said "I'm going to check it out." She started to walk away, hoping that Jaune would call out to her, or do something to indicate that he hadn't been broken, but he didn't. Instead, she found herself in front of the window, peering in at the screen.

The glass between the television and her muffled the sound from the thing to a point where it was impossible to make out any of what the reporter was saying. Luckily enough, however, the subtitles were on, and scrolling lazily across the bottom of the screen as the woman spoke. Pyrrha read with great interest, and soon found out what the cause of the urgent report was.

"Later today, the leaders of Remnant are scheduled to make a major announcement. No word yet as to what it is going to concern, but speculations rage about what it could be. Most seem to believe that it is going to concern those who have been in the news frequently already, the undead. But, again, there is no confirmation of this. Tune in at eight to see live coverage of the event, we're sure that you won't want to miss it.

Pyrrha narrowed her eyes at the screen, thinking of what it could be. The undead seemed a likely topic, but there had to be other things, too. It could be something having to do with the White Fang, or Grimm, or any number of other topics. Deep down, though, she knew that the speculation was probably right. There was nothing else quite as pressing as the undead on the average everyday citizen. They still knew little about their deceased neighbors, where they came from, how old they were, it would be easy to be suspicious of them for someone who was more than a little cautious.

Pyrrha herself didn't really trust them too much. She did trust Yang, but she didn't know if Yang was given whole truths. And Naze seemed manipulative enough to do anything, so long as it benefited him.

She let out a sigh. And she was working for him, too. He had said that she could quit at any time, and she believed him, but she didn't know what would happen after that. Would her soul be left alone? That was another thing that she didn't like. There was something wrong with dragging a soul back from the dead. It was unnatural, and deprived them of rest that they should have had.

And now Nora was in his hands. Pyrrha felt a creeping dread at the fringes of her mind, now. What if he did something to her? What if she wasn't the same as she had been before?

Pyrrha turned, and started to walk back to Jaune, who was now some distance away. She almost wished that she hadn't gone to look at the television. Now she simply felt much worse then she had before.