A/N: This one ended up running a bit longer than I was planning... but there was sorta-kinda a lot of stuff to unpack. So I unpacked it.

This is the last action chapter for the Atlas Arc. Next chapter is going to be the "cooldown" chapter that wraps things up, and then after that? Well, I'll have an A/N at the end to discuss what's next.

In the meantime, enjoy.

It took Strike Two less than a minute to dig in at the hangar entrance and prep a kill zone for any of the rampant Grimm that got the idea to escape. It only took a few minutes more before several soldiers from Strike Three had arrived with the bulk of captured civilians for extraction. It only took a few minutes after that before some of Merlot's armored abominations broke past Apollo's gang and tried to wreak havoc on the hangar crew.

Altinsoy's EXO soldiers were more than happy to put their heavy drills to good use.

Now, two of Strike Two's operatives kept the civilians safe in the center of the hangar while the rest of squad re-fortified their position. EXO soldiers with scavenged miniguns kept their weapons trained on the door and Engineers and Technicals had explosives and arm-mounted flamethrowers locked and loaded to back them up. Gremlin operators stood at the ready to deliver EMP pulses to any of Merlot's robots that tried to retake their position. Perhaps most importantly, a pair of operatives had taken up positions inside the main door to keep eyes on the hallway leading to the rest of the squad.

"Hangar secured, Threes," Altinsoy reported. "Sam and Nicho are keeping your escape route clear, so you're free to fall back as needed."

"Copy, Two-Actual," Apollo answered. "Fives are still on their way with the second round of survivors. About five to ten minutes out, depending on how much resistance they get. Elsa was adamant that Mac's gang swung around to pick up the Atlas troopers being held in one of the labs. We've been instructed to treat them as high-risk, but… Sarge has a point."

Altinsoy was in full agreement. Leaving people behind wasn't XCOM's style.

"Understood," the Lieutenant responded. "If you need support at your position, we can afford to dispatch two or three operatives. But maintaining control of the hangar is our primary objective."

"Of course. We've plugged the gap in our line and are holding for now, but I'll keep you advised if I need to take you up on that offer."

Altinsoy keyed her comm back to her squad's channel. "Sam, how are the Scorched Earth preparations coming?"

"Just about done, Actual," Samuelson answered. "Dust packages are all rigged up to my remote. Just doing some final checks with Nicho to make sure their positioning is optimized."

Good. The Engineering Corps may not have the raw martial prowess of the other Strike teams, but the Threes and Fives were going to be damn glad that they had XCOM's best defensive line backing them up.

"Volt."

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Send one of the recon Gremlins ahead to check the other hallways. Sam and Nicho are our eyes, but that doesn't mean we can't also be theirs."

"Ten-four."

Bullheads were on the way to ferry the civilians back to safety aboard XCOM's ship. All Altinsoy had to do was hold the line for those who were counting on her.

She swore on the memory of the fallen that she would not fail.

The Avenger's flight deck became a flurry of activity the moment Firebrand landed her Bullhead. The operatives inside helped Qrow get Annette and Winter out of the cargo hold, and a squad of orderlies descended upon them with surgical precision to take over and move Winter onto a waiting gurney.

"You too, Major," Dr. Vahlen said, gesturing to a second gurney.

"I don't need it. I'm-"

"Major," Vahlen cut in, "The battlefield is your realm of expertise, and the medical ward is mine. Get on the table."

Both Tygan and Annette stared at the Chief Scientist in shock while the rest of the receiving team busied themselves with strapping Winter in. After a few seconds, Annette nodded numbly and made her way towards the open stretcher. Vahlen smirked when the Major stumbled slightly, likely from fatigue, while attempting to climb onto the gurney.

"I have one condition, Doctor," Annette said. "Do not separate me from Winter. It is critical that I stay in close contact with her to keep the parasite quarantined."

Vahlen nodded, and her team began its swift retreat back to Medical. Tygan followed alongside his colleague as she walked next to Annette. He noticed Qrow tagging along several paces behind the stretchers.

"Should we-?"

"No."

He nodded. No point in letting the Major and Qrow know that the two doctors had only enjoyed a one-in-three success rate with the parasite extractions thus far. The only reason Vahlen didn't contest Annette's request was because they both knew that Winter needed every advantage possible to pull through. If Asaru's efforts were able to mitigate the destructive tendencies of the parasite during extraction, they couldn't afford to sever that connection.

Down the hallways they went. Everyone onboard the Avenger knew to keep the route from the flight deck to the Medical wing clear. Vahlen was already conducting her initial assessment of Annette's injuries while the orderlies wheeled the gurneys. Tygan followed Vahlen's lead and began a gross inspection of Winter's condition.

"Extensive lacerations and bruising," Vahlen noted, unbuckling the ruined armor to get a better look at the wounds beneath. "Your eyes are struggling to track, and your muscles are spasming erratically. It's amazing that you're still conscious, Major."

"Yeah, yeah," Annette mumbled. "Just make sure she lives, alright?"

Tygan wondered if Vahlen was going to counter with a reprimand and remind the Major that Weiss was one of her closest friends, so of course she would make sure Winter pulled through.

Instead, Vahlen merely looked at the table-bound woman and answered in a soft voice, "Annette Durand, I will do everything in my power to allow Weiss the opportunity to say hello to her sister tomorrow morning. Trust in my vigilance."

Annette offered a smile up to the doctor before closing her eyes and becoming silent.

Tygan was able to confirm that Winter's external injuries were minimal by the time the group reached its destination. Several contusions had formed from Annette's finishing strike, but nothing appeared to be broken, leaking, or failing. The doctor did note, however, the fading effects of the Grimm essence after it had manifested itself during her battle with the Major. Black veins criss-crossed under her neck, though they were faint. Sub-dermal calcification along her cheekbones, triceps, and forearms was likely the result of the essence providing body armoring during the engagement. Finally, a quick lift of her eyelid revealed red coloring of her iris.

From what he could tell from this examination, Winter's modifications were much more extensive than those of Merlot's mercenaries or the Atlas soldier from Avitus.

One of the orderlies rushed ahead to open the doors leading into Medical, and the team made a beeline for the surgery room.

"Qrow," Vahlen called behind her as she stepped through the doorway.

"I know," Qrow answered. "You don't need to tell me."

The hint of anguish in his voice spoke volumes. Tygan wished that he could allow the man to watch, but they both knew it was simply out of the question.

"Doctor," Vahlen said, "Contrary to how she is acting, Annette is in critical condition and requires immediate attention. I trust you can prep Winter while I get the Major in a stable condition?"

"Of course," Tygan answered. After three trial runs over the last thirty minutes, he was already becoming well-acquainted with the steps necessary to use Dr. Polendina's extractor.

The gurneys came to a stop, and the orderly team wasted no time in locking down the tables and pulling around prepared trays of tools, bottles, drugs, and other equipment. Tygan didn't even need to ask before Veskel had already stuck Winter with an IV line.

"Sedative cocktail is flowing," the orderly reported.

Tygan nodded. "Good. Let's get her intubated. The parasite is likely going to try to suffocate its host once it realizes that it's close to death."

"Yes, sir."

Veskel worked with another orderly to prep the oxygen while a third started to strip Winter out of her combat uniform.

"Oxygen's hooked up."

Tygan examined Winter's neck and quickly identified the parasite's insertion point. It was subtle, perhaps even impossible to spot unless one knew what to look for. But after examining several corpses, and after working on the three mercenaries brought in during Gatecrasher, Tygan had become rather good at spotting the unspottable.

He took a hypodermic and gently pressed the needle into Winter's skin about an inch above the insertion point. The chemical cocktail flowed from the needle, and Tygan could already feel Winter's skin stiffening as it reacted to the injection. Good. It appeared that he hadn't aimed too low and stuck the parasite instead.

"Hardening agent is taking," he confirmed. "Is the EKG in place?"

"Yes, sir. Her vitals are slightly erratic, but I'm not seeing any hallmarks yet that the parasite has flipped its kill switch."

That… was surprising.

I am doing what I can. The Grimm is aware of you, but it hasn't yet realized it is in danger. Please move quickly, Doctor.

Tygan almost jumped, but maintained his composure. Offering a mental thanks to Annette's friend, he focused once more on his work.

"Prep the biogel, please."

"Already on it, sir."

"And the extractor?"

"Warmed up and ready."

Good. It looked like everything was in place to begin.

"Doctor Vahlen?" Tygan called out.

"I need thirty more seconds," Vahlen answered. "Please begin without me."

Tygan didn't want to. He really didn't want to be the one solely responsible for the critical moments of this operation. But Asaru had given him the gift of time, and the Doctor wasn't about to flush that down the sink.

"Veskel," he said. "The extractor, please. Elsa is counting on our success, and I don't intend on letting her down.

Ilia moved like a woman possessed as she followed after the fight between Cinder and Blanche. Ciel and Ashton were right there with her, and the trio raced down the street to keep up with the Maidens overhead. As far as she knew, all the ADVENT huntsmen teams were tied up with XCOM's own huntsmen, leaving Ilia's group free to support the Downside's Maiden.

Regardless of how Lieutenant Kelly and Hogarth had intended for the Warsaw operation to play out, everything now hinged on the Maidens. If Cinder fell, ADVENT would make it their number one priority to recover her and retreat to safety. The Downsiders wouldn't follow, since their objective from the start was always to get ADVENT out. However, if Blanche fell, that would be a critical blow to the morale of the freedom fighters. A blow that Ilia wasn't sure they'd be able to recover from.

So she needed to make sure that didn't happen.

With the power that the two Maidens wielded, Ilia almost expected them to float in mid-air, staring each other down before racing towards one another for epic clash after epic clash. Like something out of one of those action shows she used to watch as a child. They exuded so much raw force that they seemed as powerful, if not moreso, than the heroes and villains of fantasy.

Although they didn't fight like the super-powered warriors of Saturday mornings, Ilia actually found their flow of combat to be even more impressive. The two women never stopped moving, allowing each action or reaction to carry them forward towards their next strike. They moved so fast, Ilia wondered how they were able to keep up with each others' attacks and counterattacks. And yet, Blanche's calm, nigh-impenetrable defense was able to keep up with Cinder's raw, unbridled fury. They bounded off of building faces, and Blanche summoned ice pillars as makeshift platforms while Cinder expulsed fire from her palms to carry herself towards solid ground. Fire clashed against ice, and burning arrows zipped past icy shurikens.

The two elemental juggernauts danced across the streets like quicksilver, and it was all Ilia's team could do to keep up with them.

"There's an ADVENT squad setting up a nest at your two o'clock," a voice called out over comms.

It wasn't Hogarth, but one of the rooftop snipers. While Hogarth told them to lay low and avoid drawing attention to themselves, that still meant they could use their advantageous position to steal glances at the battlefield and provide intel to the fighters below.

"I see them," Ashton confirmed, gesturing up towards a rundown building with shattered wall on its south side. If Cinder kept herself and Blanche on their current trajectory through the streets, they'd come into clear view of the ADVENT team. Perfect for a surprise assault that could easily give Cinder the upper hand in their fight.

"Ciel."

"Yep."

Ilia raced towards the ADVENT nest, and her teammate gave the infiltrator a brief head start before sending a lightning bolt streaking overhead. The bolt slammed into the chest of the ADVENT Officer, and a trio of rifle shots ricocheted off of the stonework before a fourth finally struck one of the startled soldiers in the neck.

"You'll have to step up your game, Ash."

"Shush, you."

The soldiers yelled in surprise when Ilia finally reached their building and leapt up through the rubble.

"Contact! Contact!"

"ID on a huntress at our-kkkghughg!"

"Don't you dare touch Blanche!"

"We need backup!"

Ilia tore through the soldiers and crushed their hastily-assembled emplacement beyond recognition. She only had two left to neutralize when Ciel shouted over the comm, "Behind you!"

The danger sense in the back of Ilia's mind lit up almost as soon as she processed Ciel's warning, and she dove to the edge of the room just as a rocket streaked in from somewhere outside and engulfed the outpost in flames.

Over the ringing in her ears, Ilia could faintly hear Ashton saying something about locating the rocketeer, but she was still struggling to get her own bearings after getting rocked by the blast. Ilia instinctively shifted the colors of her skin to match the ashen grey of the smoke, and she suppressed the urge to cough and choke to avoid giving away her location in the room. Her ears picked up the sound of voices below.

"Not detecting any movement after the blast."

"Good. On my mark, breach and clear."

Shit.

"Mark."

Ilia launched herself towards the hole in the wall just as the door behind her was blown off its hinges. She leapt over the edge with bullets whizzing past her and ran to regroup with Ciel and Ashton. No point in sticking around after her objective was achieved. And besides-

CRASH

FWOOM

… she needed to keep her eye on the prize.

As if on cue, Blanche and Cinder came rocketing around the corner, with the former skating along a building wall while the latter gave chase like a guided rocket. The Fall Maiden's arrows of glass and flame clattered harmlessly off of Blanche's icy targe before the Downside Hero flung her shield at her foe, forcing Cinder to duck under the projectile. Blanche's simple counterattack shifted Cinder into a more reactive mode as the Winter Maiden pressed the chilly assault with gusts of snow and daggers of pure-blue ice.

For a shining moment, it looked to Ilia like Cinder's flame was flickering and dying as it fought to resist the cold. But a salvo of weapons fire below broke Blanche's momentum and gave Cinder a chance to swing the pendulum back in her favor.

"Ilia."

"We're on it," she confirmed.

Ashton's voice said into her ear, "Looks like it was coming from the same location as that rocketeer that tried to tag you."

Ilia desperately wanted to ask Ciel to throw lightning at Cinder to help even the odds, but she couldn't risk having the Fall Maiden's wrath focused on anyone other than Blanche. All they could do was try to keep the fight a one-on-one and hope that their Maiden's superior experience and skill allowed her to prevail.

"Huntsmen inbound on your nine o'clock."

"Don't worry about them!" Reese called out. "Leave it to us to keep them occupied."

Fire rained from the sky, and Ilia's heart stopped for a moment when she thought that Cinder had locked on to them. She breathed a small sigh of relief when she saw that it was merely collateral damage from a pillar of flame that she had launched at Blanche.

"Something about this doesn't seem right," Ciel muttered. "Cinder's been the Fall Maiden for how long? Surely Blanche should be able to wipe the floor with her."

"Blanche has been keeping her nature a secret down here below Atlas," Ashton pointed out. "And Cinder's been busy flexing her Maiden muscles ever since she revealed herself. She's been clocking in a lot of practice hours."

"That, and Blanche is trying to avoid needlessly destroying the Downside," Ilia added. "I doubt Cinder cares much about that."

An ice wall rose up in front of them, catching Ilia off-guard until the crystalline formation buckled under the explosive force of a rocket.

"And apparently she also needs to look out for us," Ciel commented sheepishly.

Unacceptable.

"This is Korea Squad. We're taking the risk to support the Winter Maiden."

"Korea, stand down."

"Negative, Hogarth. If we die, so be it. Perhaps it will help you in your hunt for the Sniper."

Several cracks echoed overhead, and Cinder flinched in response to being struck by one of the bullets. Rather than stop and wonder where the attack came from, Blanche capitalized on the opening and flung an array of shards at Cinder. More bullets fired at Blanche from below, and Ilia was able to hear the discharge of the ADVENT rifles this time.

"Faster," she urged.

A single, powerful report answered Korea Squad's salvo, and the comms confirmed Hogarth's fear.

"Sniper got Gol," one of the rooftop soldiers reported.

"Dammit, Korea."

"Make 'em pay, Hogarth."

Ilia's team rounded the next corner and saw a squad of ADVENT soldiers in the middle of the street, rifles pointed skyward at the Winter Maiden as she danced between buildings with Cinder. Ashton cycled his rifle and opened fire upon the soldiers while Ilia and Ciel dashed in for melee combat. The attack had an immediate effect of getting the soldiers to stop shooting at Blanche and forcing them to instead focus on their new assailants.

Ciel took the lead and projected a golden hard light shield to protect the two huntresses from oncoming fire while they closed to engage.

"I've got the heavy gunner on the left," Ilia said. "Gap in the body armor will make him an easy target."

"Understood."

The two huntresses split off, and Ilia juked out of the way of the gunner's stream of fire before sending out the tip of her blade lancing through his armor. The gunner cried out in pain and crumpled to the ground, and Ilia picked out another foe.

"Huntsmen!"

Ilia dipped behind an ADVENT soldier just in time to avoid an explosive blast of Dust coming from her left. She caught sight of four huntsmen jumping down from a nearby storefront and dashing in with weapons raised. Just as Ilia started formulating a plan to deal with the newcomers while juggling both the ADVENT soldiers and the Maiden fight above, more bullets rained in from up the street.

"Over here, assholes!"

As if guided by an unseen force, Ilia's attention (as well as everyone else's, it seemed) was drawn towards the voice of ABRN's rifleman while his team raced towards the fray.

Ilia sighed in relief, stabbing another soldier through the arm while Nadir and Reese provided covering fire for Arslan and Bolin to lock down the huntsmen team in melee.

"Keep moving!" Arslan shouted at Ilia and Ciel, "We've got this!"

Fire exploded a few feet away from Ilia, and this time she looked up to see Cinder's angry gaze upon her.

Shit.

Blanche fought to keep Cinder's attention, but now the Fall Maiden was using every chance she could get to wash the street in flames. Her own huntsmen had little trouble evading the burning sea, and it didn't seem to matter that her ADVENT soldiers were caught in the crossfire. For whatever reason, she was furious with the meddling of Ilia's team in her fight with Blanche.

A solid blow from an icy discus finally forced Cinder to stop playing games. Letting loose a primal snarl, the Fall Maiden leapt towards Blanche to deliver a strike with twin blades of molten glass, which she blocked with an icy kite shield. The elemental clash caused both weapons and shield to explode on impact, resulting in a shockwave of ice and glass shards that sent shrapnel across the battlefield.

"Ilia, watch your six!"

Ciel's warning came just in time for Ilia to move out of the way of the huntsman that slipped past Arslan.

"How dare you raise a sword against Lady Fall," the fighter growled, his sword clashing with Ilia's. "After everything she has done for us. For Remnant!"

"And for the people of the Downside?" Ilia spat, whipping around her blade to try and make contact with the huntsman's exposed skin, "Are they supposed to be grateful for ADVENT's brutality? For the disappearances?"

"Slanderous lies," the huntsman countered, swinging his hooked blade around to try and trap Ilia's weapon. "Lady Fall would never allow that."

"From an ex-cultist to one who's clearly still brainwashed," Ilia said, finally getting her sword to graze against the huntsman's arm, "wake up."

She activated the Lightning Dust in her hilt and sent an electrical surge arcing up her blade and through the huntsman's Aura. He cried out in shock, and Ilia took the opportunity to disengage and fall back behind ABRN's defensive line.

"We gotta go," Ashton said, catching up with his teammates. "The Maidens are on the move."

Ilia nodded, panting as fatigue threatened to set in. "Right. I think ABRN should be alright. It's just the other huntsmen now that they have to worry about."

"Skittles, this is El-Tee."

Ilia winced at the nickname, but she clicked her comm anyways. "Go ahead, El-Tee."

"Circle back to Silver and Park. If ADVENT is going to keep trying to shoot Blanche down, then we need to be proactive and not reactive. We're setting up a nest, and we need your team to cover us."

"Understood," Ilia answered. "We're on our way."

Fuck. Shit. Fuckity shit.

Beagle's leg burned with every step he took, but he did his best to keep all of the whining and complaining internal so that he wouldn't draw unwanted attention.

"Keep moving," Blake said, grunting as she killed the mutated Beowolf with one final thrust of her sword.

"Easy for you to say," the Captain muttered. "You're not the one who took a claw to the leg."

Blake glanced at Beagle, but said nothing. Not that anything needed to be said. The worry on her face was clear enough. Right, no point in complaining and getting his partner worried for his sake. They had a job to do, and he was still able to move. They needed to get to it, and then get the hell out of dodge.

"More Grimm coming down the hallway up ahead," Nichole warned. "I recommend taking cover."

Because of course there'd be roadblocks thrown their way every minute. The infiltrators slipped behind some crates and waited for the danger to approach.

"Haven't found Merlot yet," Beagle whispered while they kept an eye on the hallway, "and you're sure you haven't seen him on any cams, kiddo?"

"Correct."

That didn't bode well. And neither did the hulking behemoth of a mutated Alpha Beowolf rounding the corner fifty meters away. If that thing caught wind of them, Blake was in for a nasty fight. Beagle wouldn't be able to help without alerting other enemies to their presence with his gunfire. Maybe if they just-

The monster staggered after a familiar bolt lodged itself into the creature's neck. A grapple line wrapped around its leg while the Beowolf was stunned, and the monster fell from having its legs yanked out from underneath it. A Reaper pair materialized behind their prey in an instant. The Viper wrapped both of the Beowolf's arms behind its back with her constrictive body while her partner brandished his wicked arm-mounted drill. The Beowolf barely let out a whimper when the Reaper plunged the device into the back of its neck, and the creature began to dissolve a few seconds later.

"Keep moving, friends," the Reaper said. Beagle was pretty sure that voice belonged to Alonso under the mask. "Our brothers and sisters are roaming the shadows of this desecrated ground, and we stand ready to aid you in your mission. Sserana and I will follow your lead."

Beagle gave a thumbs up, and he wordlessly carried on with Blake while the Reapers melded back into the darkness.

"Captain," Nichole said, "I have some… news."

"Good or bad?"

"Both."

Blake gave him a glance, and Beagle sighed. "Alright, let's hear it."

"I've been processing some of the data that we found in the security room. It was heavily encrypted, and I was being careful so as not to trigger any countermeasures that may have been hidden within. But I believe I know where Merlot may be hiding."

Well, that sounded good.

"It appears that he has multiple secure panic rooms hidden throughout the lab."

And that sounded really bad.

Nichole continued, "If we assume that Jadis was with him before she encountered Strike Three, that eliminates some of the possible locations and helps me narrow down where the mad doctor is hiding."

Thorough and professional. Beagle would have to give a recommendation to Bradford after this that Nichole be formally recognized for her work on the op.

"Then let's head for the nearest one and see what we can do."

Under Nichole's guidance, the team set off down the hallway towards the first saferoom. Beagle wasn't sure how they were going to crack it once they got there, but that was a problem for Beagle five minutes from now. Not much he could do at the moment without having a chance to case the security. One thing was for certain, though: Merlot wasn't getting out of here alive. Someway, somehow, XCOM was putting this guy down in the dirt.

Good thing his secret lab meant that Merlot was already six feet under.

An explosion rocked the base, pulling Beagle out of his thoughts and giving him a moment of panic as he wondered if his explosives had detonated prematurely. When the hallway behind him didn't erupt in hellish flames, however, the Captain realized that something else had caused the earthquake.

"Sorry, that was us," Mac called out. "Had a small horde of Grimm on our heels, so we uh… improvised."

Beagle rolled his eyes, though he almost choked when the lab's PA system sprang to life a few seconds later.

"I grow weary of these games, XCOM."

Beagle and Blake exchanged looks.

Merlot? Beagle mouthed.

Blake shrugged.

Who else could it be, though?

"You've inflicted a small fortune in property damage upon my lab and my robots, slaughtered without remorse the hard-working men and women of my security force, and are now engaged in theft and kidnapping of subjects that rightfully belong to myself and Atlas's military."

"That's certainly one way to put it," Beagle snorted.

"I had hoped that you would get bored of bumbling your way through my lab like an Ursa in a porcelain shop-"

Again with the damn idioms.

"… but it appears that, even after I left you some of my experiments as a means of encouraging you to leave more quickly, you have no intention of doing so. Which leaves me with no choice but to deploy a project that I was hoping to spend a few more years perfecting. So thank you, XCOM, for hindering the advance of science with your brutish antics. At least you will die knowing that, while this will undoubtedly be excruciating for you, my Grimm pets will be just fine."

Before Beagle and Blake could try to figure out what he meant by that, a quiet hissing reached their ears. Beagle looked around and saw a sickly mist rising up from ankle-high vents spread out along the walls.

"Are you shitting me?" he hissed, scrambling to find something to cover his mouth and nose. "This fucking maniac rigged his entire base with a goddamn toxin system?!"

"Are we sure Remnant has never heard of Valve? Or Portal?"

"We need to leave," Blake said, pulling up Nichole's map on her scroll to plot out an escape.

"Fuck that," Beagle shot back. "This guy ain't walking away alive."

Blake glared at him. "And neither are we if we stay here."

The comms lit up as the other teams reported the effects of Merlot's ace.

"Yeah, this dude isn't playing games anymore. Our Atlesian VIP's won't stop hacking up a lung."

"Hangar is getting hazed, too. The winds outside are helping clear away some of it, but the air is pretty stagnant by the door. We're starting to get a little dizzy out here."

Shit. Shit shit shit.

Blake coughing next to him made Beagle realize that she was right. He could want Merlot dead all he liked, but that wouldn't change the fact that they'd be pushing daisies first.

"This is Outrider. Neither my sister nor I appear to be suffering any effects from the toxin."

"Maybe it's snake toxin?"

"Are you serious right now, Four?"

Beagle glanced at Alonso, who kept an even gaze while he breathed in deep. No coughing.

"Yo, we're getting a little dizzy from the toxin like Two-Actual, but the Atlas soldiers are reacting way worse to it than we are."

"The faunus operatives in our team are looking pretty bad, but the rest of us are doing okay. Is this a Terran-Remnan thing?"

"Then how do you explain the Reapers?"

"… Aura," Beagle breathed, suddenly making the connection.

Blake's coughing got worse as more of the fumes continued to rise. "Beags, we gotta get out of here."

Beagle took a quick breath, wrinkled his nose at the pungent odor, and sighed. He could practically hear the violin of The Gael playing its gentle melody in his head.

"We're cut off, Blake," he said, glancing at his partner. "Grimm everywhere, this toxin forcing a rapid evac through a target-rich passage. This damn leg's slowing me down, kid. You know I'll never make it."

"Beags, what are you talking about?" Blake asked, coughing again. "We're getting out of here. But we have to go. Now."

"Negative, Sabretooth," he said, ripping off his dogtags and shoving them into Blake's chest, "You do."

That drew a sharp look from his partner.

"Alright, some of these guys are starting to cough up blood now. We're hauling ass as fast as we can."

"We're trying to jury rig some rebreather's out here in the hangar. Get them to us, and we can help keep them alive until the Bullheads arrive."

"Beagle," Blake said, her eyes watering as she struggled to keep them open, "I'm not leaving you to die in here." She choked again and added, "I'm not the old me anymore."

Beagle steeled his will and answered, "With all due respect, Belladonna? You don't have a fuckin' choice."

He nodded at Alonso, who made a signal with his hand behind Blake's back. A tongue shot out from the shadows, and Blake let out a surprised yelp as she was pulled back down the hall towards the waiting Sserana.

Beagle keyed his comm to their private channel.

"You run, Blake," he said as he continued down the hall towards the saferoom. "You run! Not out of fear, not out of cowardice, but because your ranking fucking officer made the damn call."

"Captain," Nichole whispered in his ear, "What are you doing?"

"You find No-Scope," he said, his stride becoming more assured with every step he took, "and when you do? You tell Ruby Rose that she's the best goddamn Captain I've ever met."

"Mac," Blake answered on the comms, and Beagle realized that she was breaking radio silence to tell MacAuley what he'd done. "Mac, Captain -hack- Captain Beagle is pushing -cough- onwards into the base. He's forcing me to -cough- retreat."

"What."

A Beowolf appeared further down the hallway.

Shit.

"Run, you fool!" He shouted, brandishing his rifle as he prepared to go loud. "Fly, you fool!"

Live your life, kid, he thought. You've damn well earned it.

"Beagle, what the FUCK is going on?"

A bolt appeared from the shadows and tore through the Beowolf's neck before Beagle could shoot it. Alonso appeared at his side.

"Sserana will take the Master Sergeant to safety," he said. "It is my honor to protect you on your mission."

Beagle raised an eyebrow. "You, uh… you know this is almost certainly going to be a one-way trip, right?"

"Beags, answer me goddammit."

"Of course," Alonso said, reloading his bolt caster. "But nobody deserves the indignity of dying alone."

Heh. Fair enough.

Beagle keyed his comm to the public channel and gave MacAuley his answer.

"I'm finishing what we started, Mac," he said, "one way or another."

He nodded at Alonso, who answered by melding back into the shadows.

"One way or another…" he repeated to himself.

Now he just had to find Merlot and fulfill his promise.

Easy enough.

Jane Kelly had to admit, after spending the last hour with ADVENT's stun rod, she could see the appeal of melee combat. Even without the help of Captain Rose's Aura and training, or Major Durand's little ghost buddy, the Lieutenant felt like she was getting the hang of swinging around her shock stick in a manner that was, at the very least, pretty effective.

"More lancers inbound," one of the freedom fighters reported, peeking around the barricade before quickly ducking down again. "They're using suppressing fire to safely advance."

Jane gripped her sword and nodded. "Fall back to the second barricade. We'll pelt the lancers after they breach the first, and I'll mop up whatever gets through."

The fighters did as instructed and withdrew. The first barricade gave them cover from ADVENT's suppressing fire while they took up positions behind the second.

"Should we use the explosives, Lieutenant?"

"Negative," Jane answered, pulling her pistol off of her belt. "It would be a waste to use that on a lancer push when we can wait until a larger force tries to breach the barricade after they think it's safe. We can make do without them for now."

The first Lancer vaulted over the abandoned defenses before reeling back from a shot to the helmet, courtesy of Lieutenant Kelly. The rest of the push came moments later.

"Fire at will," she ordered, and the Downsiders were more than happy to oblige.

Of the six lancers that mounted the barricades, two were cut down in the first fusillade. Two more managed to reach the second barricade before succumbing to the hail of bullets. The last two managed to reach the defenders, their blades crackling with anticipation.

Jane lit up her own stun lance in response and crashed the weapon down into the closest lancer's neck. Of all the ADVENT soldiers Jane had fought so far with her melee weapon, the lancers were the most annoying. It made sense that their armor was shock-resistant, but it also made it more frustrating for Jane to deal with them.

The lancer cried out at the surprise attack, and Jane had to backstep and duck under a counterattack made by the soldier's compatriot. She took aim with her pistol and fired point-blank at the attacker to push him back before following up with an upward swing of her blade that connected with his chin. The lancer yowled in pain, and the force of the blow knocked the ADVENT soldier's helmet clean off his head. Jane's breath caught in her throat for half a second as she stared at her assailant's eyes.

His red, soulless eyes.

"Oh, fuck," she breathed.

A bullet ripped through the soldier's head, courtesy of one of the Lieutenant's allies, and the other lancer was put down shortly afterwards.

"Something got you spooked, El-Tee?"

Jane nodded at the dead soldier, black mist rising up from his now-empty eye sockets. The Downsiders took a moment to study the dead soldier before realization dawned on them and they backpedaled away from the abomination before them.

"Maidens protect us," one of them whispered.

Another dry heaved, then added, "how can ADVENT allow this?"

Jane reloaded her pistol. "Maybe only the highest levels of the organization are aware. Maybe the rank and file don't realize what has happened to them. Or maybe they're all just bastards who have sold their souls for power. The why doesn't matter much. But the what lets us know what we're facing. Regroup and hold this barricade. I need to check on the nest."

"Yes… yes ma'am."

Jane keyed her comm while she jogged back towards the central building that was serving as the Downside's makeshift Base of Operations, as well as their best chance at helping Blanche defeat Cinder.

"Hogarth, I don't know what the Doorkickers have discovered, but I just got visual confirmation that more ADVENT soldiers are being spliced with Grimm. Avitus wasn't an isolated incident."

"Shit."

A pair of guards snapped a salute to Jane as she stepped through the front door of the structure and headed for the stairs.

"How's our little friend?"

"Slippery. I'm getting closer, thanks to Korea's sacrifice, but the bastard knows his craft."

"So do you. We can't afford to let this guy control the battlefield. I won't ask you to give away your position until you've taken him out."

Hogarth didn't respond.

"Lieutenant!"

Jane turned around to see Ilia's team at the entrance to the building.

"Good to see you, Skittles," Jane said, hiding a smirk when Ilia bristled at the nickname. "Glad your team seems to be all in one piece."

Ashton cracked his neck and grinned. "Had a few bumpy moments, but your huntsmen teams sure know their stuff. Where do you need us?"

Jane pulled out her scroll and handed it to Ilia. "We've got ABRN and CFVY keeping ADVENT's huntsmen occupied, but their rank-and-file troops are trying to push in towards this facility. Can't let that happen."

"You need us to maintain a perimeter and assist the Downsiders as needed," Ciel surmised.

"Exactly. Keep yourselves mobile, keep ADVENT off-balance, and keep this location secure."

"Easy enough," Ilia said. "Anything else?"

"Negative. Good hunting."

The three snapped a salute and left as quickly as they came.

Jane turned back towards the stairs. It was time to check on the status of the nest.

As Ozpin stirred from his sleep, a voice cut through his mental haze and reminded him that he wasn't alone.

"So what now?"

Ozpin opened his eyes to see Ruby staring at him from across the dim lighting of the fire. Bags had begun to form under her eyes, though the silver remained alert and focused.

"You didn't wake me for my shift," Ozpin said. It wasn't an accusation, merely a statement of fact.

"Too many things going through my head," she answered with a shrug. "Do you honestly think I could have fallen asleep, even if I wanted to?"

A fair point.

"So what now?" Ozpin echoed.

Ruby nodded. "I'm guessing you didn't rescue me just for us to die out here. Salem's… testing took a lot of energy out of me, but I can probably fight for another day before I'm too weak to do anything. Not sure if there's much of anything out here that we can find to eat. Didn't see anything when I was carrying you into this cave."

"Moira kept me on a fairly tight leash," Ozpin answered. "Believe me, I tried to convince her to let me go exploring by being on my best behavior, but she kept me in that fortress from the moment we arrived after the disaster in Vale."

"Damn," Ruby sighed.

"I think you already know that the best course of action is to find a way out ourselves," Ozpin said, carefully getting to his feet. "Sitting here won't help us work towards that end, unfortunately."

"Guess it was too much to hope for that you'd have some super-secret ace up your sleeve that could easily get us back to civilization without much difficulty," Ruby said with a laugh. Then she frowned and added, "I heard Grimm activity all throughout the night. We're well-hidden in here, but the moment we step out…?"

"Then we'll need to move quickly," Ozpin said.

The two of them took stock of their situation. No serious injuries, and it seemed like the worst of the shock Ruby suffered from Moira's testing had subsided. They didn't have any food, which unfortunately put them on somewhat of a strict clock. Ozpin didn't plan on spending much more time in the Grimmlands if he could help it, though. And finally… they didn't have any weapons.

Well…

"Ruby," Ozpin said. The young huntress looked up at him curiously, and he gestured towards the dead, gnarled branch sitting near the firepit.

"You'll want to take that."

Ruby raised an eyebrow. "It's a stick."

"And I recall a pair of student huntsmen teams using baguettes, leeks, and stuffed turkeys to fight during their freshman year," Ozpin countered, thinking fondly back to the memory of RWBY and JNPR's food war.

"That…" A smile crossed Ruby's face. Good. "Okay, yeah, that happened. But play fighting with each other is a lot different than trying to fend off feral monsters in their home territory."

"Miss Valkyrie launched your sister through the roof with a watermelon."

Ruby giggled. "Oz, we need to be serious here. We can laugh about the stupid crap my team did after we're back on the Avenger."

"I am being serious, Ruby," Ozpin said. "Take the branch."

"And do what with it?" Ruby asked, though she did as she was asked and picked up the item. "Yeah, I can use my Aura to reinforce it so it won't shatter, but I use a scythe, not a staff."

She tossed the branch from one hand to the other and gave it a few swings. "I guess it'll work in a pinch, but if things get bad… it won't be the same as having Crescent Rose."

Ruby froze for a fraction of a second, and Ozpin guessed that she'd reminded herself once more that her weapon was gone. Destroyed.

Best to pull her out of that before she remembered what else was destroyed by Moira's hand.

"Just because it is a stick does not mean you are incapable of fashioning it into something more to your liking," Ozpin said. "Or did you forget that you're a Silver Eyed Warrior?"

That got Ruby's attention.

"I thought you said that it only gives me a burst of energy," she said.

"I said that it doesn't let you shoot lasers from your eyes," Ozpin answered. "But more than that, you have a gift that none of your ancestors had that will let you harness and grow proficient with your latent energy far more quickly than they ever could."

"And that is?"

Ozpin answered simply, "You have had psionic training."

Ruby hesitated for a moment, staring at the branch in her hand and mulling over Ozpin's words.

"The Silver Eyed Warriors come from Annette," Ruby recalled, "and they're borne out of her combined energy with Asaru…"

"A psionic being," Ozpin finished, smiling.

Ruby looked back up at Ozpin. "There's a reason why Annette and I are able to use both psionic and Auric energy. This is it, isn't it?"

Ozpin nodded. "As far as I can tell… yes. I've had the pleasure of knowing many of your ancestors, Ruby. Several were capable of achieving great things with their powers, but you? Not only have you formed a bond with the original ancestor, but she has trained you in the art in ways that her descendants could only dream of. And you have the spark of hope that gives you strength."

Ozpin moved to the mouth of the cave and took a minute to assess the situation outside. Ruby came up behind him, and Ozpin noticed she was still looking at the branch, apparently trying to divine the truth behind Ozpin's word's.

"Bradford -well… my Bradford- never greenlit a program to try and unlock the Auras of other operatives in XCOM," she finally said, her voice quieter now that they'd left the cave. "He did mention that if the war made Terran huntsmen a… necessity, he'd start with other psi operatives. Since they have a stronger willpower and all that. Do you think it would actually work?"

Sunlight tried to penetrate the hazy atmosphere surrounding Moira's lair. At the very least, it told Ozpin that they'd rested in the cave until daylight. Evading the Grimm might be easier now than if they'd moved at night, at least. But Ruby was right. He could hear them everywhere.

Perhaps if they moved far enough away from the corruption of Moira's stronghold, her search parties would become sparse enough to allow Ozpin to slow down. But the first couple of hours were going to be hellish. He was still weakened from the extreme strain he'd put on his semblance, so it would be almost entirely up to Ruby to defend them.

"It might," Ozpin answered, "though I don't know how potent the psi-huntsmen would be. Your psionic abilities were helped along both by your bloodline and, I believe, an Ethereal rummaging around in your head. Annette's Auric abilities were helped along by her bond with Asaru. The other psi operatives, unfortunately, wouldn't have either of those unique advantages to lean on as they grappled with their newfound power source."

The sounds of Grimm howling overhead caused the pair to hunker down until the danger had passed.

"They might become competent after a few years of training," Ozpin finished, "but I don't think XCOM can afford to wait that long for results."

Ruby breathed in deep, paused, and then let it out slowly. "Alright. No point in putting it off any longer. Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," Ozpin affirmed. This was going to be difficult. Almost impossible.

Unless…?

No. No point in pinning survival on passing hopes and what-ifs.

"Go."

The two of them took off at a brisk pace. The lack of supplies meant that nothing was weighing them down as they moved, and the pair kept their eyes open for any signs of danger headed their way.

"Ursa at two o'clock," Ruby muttered, veering Ozpin towards the left to evade the threat. He hadn't seen them, and he hadn't heard them, so Ozpin wondered how-

… Ah. Right.

"Keep your mind focused on the singular purpose of getting out of here," he said quietly as they marched. "They are counting on you to make it through. You must succeed."

He wasn't going to insult Ruby by going through the entire thought exercise a second time, but she nodded at the reminder of how important it was for her to focus on doing this for others and not merely herself.

"Beowolf dead ahead. Just one."

Ozpin said nothing. He'd given Ruby all of the resources and information he could about her power. She now needed to draw it out herself and wield it. He watched her hands faintly glimmer with silver energy, and he watched as the light flowed into the twists and crevices of the knotted branch.

The Beowolf came into view in a small glade, standing up on its hind legs and turning around to see what was approaching from the other end of the clearing. Ruby held her branch like a bayonet and dashed towards the monster, spearing it through its midsection before the thing even had a chance to howl.

"Easy enough," she muttered once Ozpin had caught up with her.

The two of them pressed forward, keeping under the cover of the gnarled trees and poisoned bushes to avoid being sighted by the winged Grimm scouting from the skies. Ruby used her superior senses to lead them away from larger search parties, only engaging in combat if she happened to encounter a single foe that she could kill with an opening strike.

They maintained their cadence for half an hour until Ruby's luck ran out.

"Several groups are converging," she said. "We can't backtrack, either. Do… do you think Salem has been pin-pointing our location based on my kills?"

Ozpin nodded. "It's probable. But we didn't really have a choice."

"Oz… I don't know how well I can fight multiple contacts with this branch. A quick bayonet charge is one thing, but prolonged spear fighting…?"

"Then don't fight with a spear," Ozpin answered.

Ruby glanced back at him.

"You've already figured out how to pour your will into the branch to reinforce and sharpen it," Ozpin explained. "Now add a little more to shape that energy into something you can better use. The branch is a focus. An instrument of your will. So tell it what you want."

The crashing, clashing sounds of lumbering Grimm echoed from up ahead. Time for Ruby's trial by fire.

The first of the monsters burrowed up from beneath the ground about ten paces away. The young huntress let out a yell, dashed at the Creep, and lashed out with her branch. Energy crackled at the end of the weapon, and Ozpin could just barely make out the beginnings of a shimmering blade emerging from the tip before Ruby swept it across the creature's chest.

An excellent start.

Ruby whipped around, weapon held with both hands and at the ready. A trio of Beowolves sprinted into view, and Captain Rose raced to meet them. Ozpin could see more clearly now the psionic blade slowly emerging from the branch, and he watched Ruby will more of herself into the weapon to grow it further. She slit the throat of the first monster with the psychic spear, dipped under a swipe from the second, and stabbed the third straight through the gut.

When she ripped the weapon back out from the Beowolf's abdomen, the crackling blade looked a little larger. And a little curved.

A Griffon swooped in from above, and Ruby rolled out of the way of its raking claws before coming up and stabbing a second Creep through its bony face plate. Her force blade flared as it sunk through the calcified armor, and the monster squealed in pain before dissolving into mist. Ruby returned her attention to the Griffon coming back around for a second attack, this time sliding underneath the monster when it swooped in low to strike. Her raised weapon cut along the belly of the beast from its neck right down to its tail, sending the crippled monster crashing into a pair of Ursa that had just arrived to enter the fray.

"Leave us alone!" Ruby shouted, fury in her eyes.

And yet, more of the monsters poured in.

Ozpin helped where he could, though he didn't have the strength to use his semblance or to deliver any Aura-infused attacks. However, Ruby learned that she could leave an enemy close to death and move on to the next while trusting Ozpin to deliver the coup de grace.

As Ruby fought more with her weapon, resonated more with her weapon, it continued to grow to suit her needs. The psionic blade emerging from the tip, crackling like lightning, had curved now into the familiar form of a war scythe. Shimmering energy continued to flow over the length of the branch, encasing it in a hardened barrier that allowed Ruby to block and attack without shattering the wood.

She whirled the weapon overhead, striking out at the Grimm that came close. Now that the Silver Eyed Warrior had found her groove, the monsters fell by the dozens. But more kept coming.

They couldn't keep this up forever. Ozpin could see it in Ruby's form. She fought valiantly, and with a drive that shone bright like a beacon of hope, but her mortal body showed signs of fatigue. All Moira needed to do was keep throwing more Grimm at them, keep them mired here, until Ruby's energy ran out.

Just as he started to think about how they could get out of this situation alive, the battlefield hummed with a new energy. One that Ozpin was familiar with.

"Ruby," he said, a red and black portal opening behind him. "Get in."

Crack.

Ping.

Hogarth didn't bother ducking at the sound. If he could hear it, that means it missed and was therefore no longer his concern. In fact, it meant that his previous feint had successfully baited a shot out of the other marksman. Through the scope of his rifle, he zeroed in on where the shot had come from to find…

Nothing.

Fuck.

Perhaps his foe had something similar to Hogarth's chameleon skin?

"Any luck?"

"Negative," Hogarth sighed. He wanted to give the Lieutenant better news, but…

"How's Blanche?"

Hogarth glanced towards the explosive battle that was slowly consuming the Downside, street by street, with its fire and ice.

"Our maiden is starting to falter," Hogarth warned. "She's easily keeping up with Cinder, but she has the disadvantage of trying to keep the collateral down to a minimum. It's taking a toll on her."

Jane swore. "Alright, well the nest is ready to go. Just need to lure them over this way somehow."

"Allow us to draw her in."

"Korea, no," Hogarth growled.

"We are not afraid of the sniper," the rooftop marksman answered. "If we die in the service of Blanche and our home, then we die for a worthy cause. Besides, he's busy trying to hunt you down, is he not?"

Hogarth popped off a shot at the sniper's hideout and dove for the floor a split second before his nemesis answered. The bastard had a bead on his position now. He needed to relocate before he could attempt to re-engage.

"I can't keep the heat off of you for at least a couple of minutes. Not to mention that you'll have Cinder's attention the moment you target her. You shoot, you die."

"So be it. Lieutenant, is your team ready?"

"We are."

"Then we shall begin. Blanche needs us."

Hogarth was already moving through the shadows of the Downside towards his next post. He growled at the sound of the first crack that indicated the Korea team had begun their gambit. This was the second time they had ignored his order to stand down. Granted, the only reason he'd done so was to avoid their deaths. But if they themselves were not concerned with such a thing? This was the only fight that mattered for the Downside. Hogarth did not need to 'conserve' troops for another. And while he would never throw away soldiers for a small gain, he would not stop them from doing what they thought was right.

For who was he to decide what was more important for them?

It didn't take long for a second crack to answer.

"Saryn is down. We have the sniper's attention."

"And Cinder's."

"Blanche is moving to intercept her, but Cinder really didn't like being shot at."

"Nice work, Korea."

"We aren't done yet."

The grapple latched onto an iron railing with a quiet clink, and Hogarth zipped up to regain his height advantage and assess the situation from the safety of his concealed position. Sure enough, Cinder was racing down one of the main streets towards were Saryn had been positioned. Blanche was in hot pursuit, but evidently the insult of being sniped was too much for Cinder.

"Target is coming into view… now. Taking the shot."

Another crack rang out, and it was answered in kind.

"Tavos is gone."

"Korea, you have her attention, and she's moving towards the nest. We can take it from here. You've done enough."

"Negative. We have to get her closer."

Hogarth found the supplies he'd left for himself days earlier and re-loaded his rifle. The sniper was focused on Korea, so he shouldn't have trouble taking him down now. Despite how much he hated the fact that Korea squad was inviting certain death with each pull of the trigger, Hogarth had to respect their cool professionalism in the face of their demise.

"One more course-correction should get her moving directly into range of the nest," one of the marksmen stated. "Lining up the shot in three… two…"

Crack.

Crack.

"Beskyl is down."

"It worked. I hope you're ready, Lieutenant."

But Hogarth wasn't watching. Through his scope, he'd finally found his prize. Or at least, the shadow of his prize. He could see the rifle, he could see the outline of the figure, could see a cloak, but couldn't see the target's face. Either way, he couldn't afford to waste time worrying about that.

Crack.

The figure recoiled, and Hogarth saw faint, shattering glow that he recognized as an Aura fizzling out before the rifle whipped around and sighted on his position. Hogarth reflexively ducked for cover, but not before he felt a bullet dig into his shoulder.

"Sniper is an Aura user," Hogarth confirmed through gritted teeth, stripping his armor off to assess the wound. "Likely has a semblance of some kind that is enhancing his accuracy."

"Makes sense."

"Cinder is almost at the target! All teams, prep for opening salvo."

"Huntsmen teams are holding," Ilia reported. "You won't have any interference when Cinder makes her pass."

Bullet was in deep. That'll be a bitch and a half for Vahlen to get out. Time to relocate again.

"Ice Bursters on my mark. Hold…"

Not even worth the risk of stealing a peek to see how the Lieutenant's plan panned out.

"Hold..."

The only question that remained was which location should he use next? There was one close by, but was it far enough away to avoid getting instantly spotted by his nemesis? Or should he use the one that was several blocks over?

"Hold…"

It would put him out of the fight for a bit, but Kelly's assault should keep things progressing in his absence.

"Fire."

Hogarth didn't need to see the fusillade. He could feel the sheer volume of Ice Dust the Downsiders were dumping into the main thoroughfare. He wouldn't be surprised if the entirety of the slums could feel the reverberation from the ambush.

"Success," the Lieutenant confirmed. "All units, fire at will."

The distraction provided by the assault would hopefully be enough for Hogarth to evade the sniper hunting him. If the marksman had any allegiance to Cinder, he would be focusing on trying to eliminate the slummers currently shooting at her. And with so many targets…

"Taking hits! Blanche is trying to block the flames, but…"

"Still under sniper fire, too."

The Lieutenant didn't call on Hogarth to help, but he made the calculated decision to risk setting up again sooner (and closer to his previous spot) than he would have liked. It only took a quick glance to assess the situation. The Downsider HQ building was lit up like a Christmas Tree, with a hail of bullets streaming out from at least half of the windows while a barrage of flame from the Fall Maiden answered in kind.

Rather than capitalizing on the distraction offered by the Downsiders to punish Cinder, Blanche was instead directing the bulk of her efforts towards protecting the shooters in the HQ building from the Fall Maiden's counterattack. Ice shields formed on windows moment before they were incinerated by fireballs, and gusts of chilling wind re-directed gouts of flame.

Playing defense was smart. Where ADVENT had failed to set up an ambush to take down Blanche, the Downsiders had succeeded against Cinder. All Blanche had to do was wait for her allies to whittle down her foe.

There.

It wasn't quite the tell-tale shatter that Hogarth had seen from other huntsmen, but the flash of red across Cinder's frame indicated that some portion of her power had finally given out.

Blanche flung Cinder to the roof of a nearby building and held a hand up to cease the nest's onslaught. The Winter Maiden's back was facing Hogarth, so he couldn't see what she was saying to her adversary, but he could very clearly see Cinder's eyes narrow, and saw the word never cross her lips just before a telltale crack echoed across the slums.

Hogarth's breath caught in his throat at the sight of Blanche staggering back from the sniper's assault. Worse her energy shattered in the exact same manner that Cinder's had moments prior. In the blink of an eye, Cinder shoved her hand into Blanche's gut. The exposed forearm, Hogarth could see, was wreathed in a black, sinewy shell.

"BLANCHE, NO!"

He had a choice. With that last shot, Hogarth could find the sniper and take him out. The huntsman's Aura was shattered, so the shot would surely be fatal. But what price would the Downside suffer for that victory? A dead Maiden meant that ADVENT wins.

He could instead shoot Cinder, vulnerable as she attempted to execute Blanche, and try to save the Winter Maiden. But he would be giving away his position, just as his nemesis had done to give Cinder an opening. He knew that the marksman would not be forgiving.

Was it really a choice?

"Goodbye, Ilia," he whispered.

Hogarth pulled the trigger.

He watched Cinder reel back, blood erupting from her neck.

He watched Blanche fall to the floor of the rooftop, her chest rising and falling in time with her pained, rapid breath.

He closed his eyes, and lowered his rifle.

He did not hear the bullet that he knew was coming.

Pain.

So much pain assaulted her senses. Whether they were scars from recent combat, or something trying to tear her apart from within, she didn't know. But the pain occupied the lion's share of her attention because it was so staggering.

Confusion.

Where was she? How did she get here? Where even was 'here?' What happened before she lost consciousness? Why couldn't she move? Why couldn't she see? And what were those voices she could barely make out through the foggy haze of her fatigue?

"… -aking up."

"Shi-… -ore sedatives…"

"Her vitals ar-…"

"More sedativ-"

It finally hit her that whoever those voices were, they were talking about her. And they were trying to restrain her. That was enough for a third emotion to break through and overpower the first two.

Hatred.

"… -ulse is rising!"

"Keep her restrai…"

"… -ausing damage to-"

These people dare keep her down? They dare assume that they know what is best for her? They don't know anything. None of them had been in her shoes, lived her life, so why should they get to decide her fate? Perhaps she should decide their fate, then? Decide which of them live and die? It would only be fair, after all.

And besides, killing them would be a good warm-up to shake off whatever was keeping her paralyzed.

Stop.

She froze at the intrusion. She hadn't processed the command in the same way as she did the other voices in the room, but the thought appeared within her mind all the same.

Free yourself of the hatred. This is not you.

Indignation. How could this voice possibly declare such a thing? She hated those people for treating her like a patient. Like a lab rat. They were going to cut her up and destroy her, unless she destroyed them firs-

Calm your mind, and recognize that the hateful emotions you feel are not coming from within. They are being forced upon you.

"… -trange readings…"

"… -ionic activty?"

"It must be Asa-…"

Could the voice be right? She hated these people for controlling her (trying to control her), and she was starting to hate the voice for saying that she was wrong, but its presence felt like a cool salve for the turmoil in her psyche. Maybe there was some truth to it…?

No. No.

The voice was wrong. Her hatred was absolutely justified. She could not stay here, and the actions of these people could not go unpunished.

Listen to yourself. You are doubting the hatred, wondering why it must be so. Something else is trying to make you feel this way.

Get out. Get out get out get out.

I will not abandon you. Just as she didn't.

She felt a flood of energy wash over her, just as soothing as before. However, something within her lashed out in response to the gentle comfort.

NO!

"…-ing another spike…"

"… need to move faste-…"

No, this was not right.

It… wasn't right. Right? Why was she taking advice from a voice that came from nowhere? Just because it felt nice?

The voice was trying to deceive her. It was trying to lull her into a false sense of security so that the others could safely cut her up. It needed to die with the rest of them.

But what if it was right?

No, it was wrong.

But what if it wasn't?

You are in turmoil, but you are not at war with yourself. It senses its impending doom, and it is trying to keep a hold on you to fight destiny. It is trying to take you down with it. Fight.

That last word. That last word had a different energy thrust into it than the rest. The moment she felt the word in her mind, she also felt a strange, alien sensation. Like she was breaking through the surface of a pool to take a fresh, much-needed breath.

But the pool was trying to keep her beneath the surface.

STOP!

… No. No, she didn't feel like stopping. For so long, she'd been underwater, and she didn't even realize it. But this voice? This voice was helping her breathe.

NO! WRONG! TRAITOR!

No. As the war in her mind wore on, she was becoming increasingly certain that this was right.

"… -arting to stabilize…"

"Good. Prepare for extrac-…"

"… -arasite is damag-…"

"… -en we must hurry."

Be strong. You have so many people giving their all to help you. We are here for you, but ultimately you must be the one to take the leap of faith and help yourself. Let go of the hatred.

She… could do that.

The part of her saying that this was wrong (or rather… what she used to think was a part of her) continued to fight belligerently, trying to convince her that these people didn't deserve pity or mercy. But she knew better now. With the veil lifted, she felt repulsed that this hatred had been forced upon her. That she'd been a murderous puppet on strings.

If anything, this puppeteer is what deserved her hate. But she couldn't bring herself to conjure up the energy. The voice wanted her to let go. And that is exactly what she would do.

"Vitals are getting stronger…"

"Good."

"She is gaining consciousness. Should we increase the sedatives?"

"No. Any more could be toxic. We have to extract now."

"Understood."

See how they are working to help you? The final act will be difficult, but you can do it. Help us help you, and you will live another day to see those you love, under the power of your own determination.

Yes. Yes, she could do this. The belligerence had become almost a background noise now as she finally managed to open her eyes. A team of medical personnel stared back at her.

"Doctor, she is awake."

One of the people leaned in close and gazed directly into her eyes while a bright light blinded her.

"Eyes are dilated and unresponsive," the masked woman said. "Stay calm, Winter. We're going to get you through this."

We are with you.

NO!

She shivered as the belligerence bucked once more, realizing that it was at the edge of extinction.

"Doctor, we have to hurry," another said from outside her vision. "As it stands, we risk losing the patient if we don't begin the removal procedure immediately."

"Then let us begin."

Another masked individual stepped up next to her, hefting a sturdy device as he gazed with an intense focus at her.

"Prepping for platysmal intrusion."

Pain shot through her body as the man jabbed the device into her neck.

SEE?!

Be calm. Be strong. We will get through this.

Something screamed within her, and she wasn't sure if it was the belligerence or her own emotions that were expressing shock and anger. The pain continued for seconds that felt like an eternity.

"I've managed to identify the connection," the man continued. "Preparing to make final incision."

NO NO NO NO NO NO

"The readings are getting erratic again, Doctor."

"Of course they are. These parasites don't take kindly to being removed."

"We have no choice," the woman doctor said. "She is lost if we don't do it."

And we do not intend to let you be lost. Persevere. For your sake, and hers.

As she fought against the belligerence, the man stuck her neck once more. The rage within her boiled up to a tipping point, and she struggled against her restraints. The hatred, screaming to break through, filled her focus so that all she could think about was the pain and her desire to make it stop.

CALM.

The voice. Gods, she didn't know what would happen if she didn't have the voice to guide her. The belligerence subsided just enough for her to catch her breath. The man jerked away, and then suddenly-

… Silence.

The belligerence was gone. Completely gone.

A bright light flashed in her face again, and she blinked in surprise.

"Pupillary response normal," the woman said before glancing at a datapad in her hand. "Vitals are stabilizing. Procedure complete."

The man collapsed into a chair, sighing in relief. The woman removed her mask and smiled.

"It's over, Winter. You're going to be okay."

Well done.

"God-fucking-dammit Beags, what the fuck are you doing? Get your ass out to the hangar right now, or so help me, I will-"

Beagle sighed (which turned into a cough, thanks to the toxic air) as he clicked his comm piece off of the public channel.

Mac was raging, understandably so, but even he had to realize that this was the correct move. The only move. XCOM had one shot to kill Merlot before he realized he had a target on his back and went dark. Salem almost certainly had a vested interest in keeping him alive, and so she'd probably move him to a location where she could keep a closer eye on him as he pumped out more of his Grimm abominations. And if he was able to fine-tune this Aura toxin…

No. XCOM had this opportunity because Jacques Schnee was a clever bastard. They weren't going to get it again. And they couldn't be sure that leaving now and detonating the explosives Shadow Team had deployed would reach the panic room. Merlot could play dead, wait for the heat to get off of him, and then quietly leave when nobody was looking. Atlas wouldn't allow XCOM to stick around and scour the ruins to confirm the kill. From their perspective, XCOM's destruction of the lab would be an unequivocal act of terror against a civilian working for the betterment of the kingdom. If they didn't have confirmation of Doctor Dickbag leaving in pieces right here and now, then they couldn't be certain that it would ever happen.

And that was unacceptable.

"Do you have a plan?" Alonso asked him.

"I do," the Captain answered, "though it's a pretty shitty one."

The two of them heard the sounds of more Grimm approaching from the intersection ahead, and Beagle activated his armor's cloak while Alonso both melded into the shadows and extended them to further conceal his partner. A small swarm of miniature Death Stalkers accompanied a lumbering, mutated Ursa as they hunted for the scent of fear.

They wouldn't find any in this hallway.

Beagle carefully unslung his pack of explosives while they waited. Shame that he didn't have time to finish tossing presents throughout the rest of the lab, but where he was going? Merlot didn't need to know that he was packing more heat than a rifle.

"It is better than no plan at all," Alonso said, resuming their conversation once the danger had passed. "What do you have in mind?"

Beagle suppressed another cough. While the toxin wasn't killing him, it smelled absolutely foul. His eyes watered as he struggled to keep them open in the hazy fog.

He wiped the tears from his eyes, pulled a couple of explosives from his bag, answered, "It's a gambit that relies on this Merlot asswipe being as cocky and full of himself as I think he is. If he sees someone walking up to his door that's supposed to be dead because of his poison trap and all of the Grimm wandering around, he's going to want to figure out why. Professional pride and all that."

One, two, three, four… they fit so neatly underneath his combat armor. He also took a moment to stuff spare rifle magazines on top of the small explosive bricks.

"Interesting. And then what? You'll be disarmed -perhaps literally- before even getting close to Merlot."

Beagle shrugged, digging an object out of one of his pockets to hand to Alonso. "Well if I'm going to be armless, I'll probably need someone else holding onto this."

The Reaper took the item, studied it, and nodded. "I see. You are a bold one, Captain. It has been an honor working alongside you."

"Yeah well, maybe you'll wanna stow that honor until after the plan works," Beagle snorted, ditching the bag containing the last of his explosives as he and Alonso resumed their march. "While it seems like The Curse has run out, there's no telling if it's willing to fuck me over with one last hurrah before leaving for good."

"Do you have a specific moment when you would like me to detonate the explosives?"

"Do your best to wait until Merlot is as close to me as possible, obviously," Beagle answered. "But other than that? Hmmm… I wouldn't mind having the opportunity to give the bastard one last one-liner before I go."

"You do have a flair for the dramatic," Alonso agreed. "I will do my best to honor your request, on one condition."

"Oh?"

"Your one-liner? Make it a good one."

Hah.

"Yeah, I can do that."

Click.

"Beagle, I swear to fuck, you better not be ignoring me!"

The Captain sighed. He'd forgotten that Mac had modified his comm piece a few months back for remote operation.

"Beags. Man, don't do this to me," Mac pleaded. "You don't have to do this."

"You and I both know that's not true," Beagle answered softly.

"It's not time yet, goddammit!"

"It is."

"FUCK."

Nichole spoke into Beagle's ear, "You're almost there, Captain. I recommend greater caution as you continue your approach."

Beagle shook his head. "Nah. I need to get Merlot's attention. Gonna need to go loud one last time."

"That… makes sense," Nichole answered.

"I've got one last instruction for you, kiddo," Beagle said. "Once I've got Merlot's attention… remember that security hub we broke into? Use the distraction to download anything and everything you can from there. Beam it over to the Pyrrhamobile so that it can be taken back to the Avenger…"

"… and then withdraw myself to the buggy as well," Nichole guessed.

"Always knew you were a smart one," Beagle said with a grin.

"I will miss you, Captain."

"Me too, kid," Beagle sighed. "That's why I made sure you've got a ship full of good people to keep you going."

"Goodbye, Beagle."

Beagle toggled his comm so that it would transmit, but not receive.

"You told your friend that it is time," Alonso noted. "What does that mean?"

"She's... waiting for me," Beagle answered, taking a moment to choose his words. "Has been for… almost two years now."

The Reaper stared at Beagle from behind his mask.

"I am sure she will be happy to see you," he finally said. "You have honored her plenty in the time since."

Beagle nodded, then let out a steadying breath. "That's the hope. Shall we?"

"Know that I will be you every step of the way, Captain. To deliver you to her."

Beagle stepped into the middle of the hallway and trained his rifle down its length. A lone Beowolf lumbered into view, and Beagle steeled himself.

"OI. WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING, YA MANGY FUCK?"

The monster snapped its head in the direction of the noise half a second before Beagle ripped into it with his rifle.

"YOU LIKE THAT? YOU PIECE OF SHIT? STAY DOWN, OR THERE'LL BE MORE WHERE THAT CAME FROM. WHO ELSE WANTS A PIECE?"

The lab's PA crackled to life.

"Oh? What have we here? A little rodent still scurrying around in my maze?"

Another group of Grimm rounded the corner, and Beags muttered, "This one's for you, Mac."

His rifle chattered as The Captain put down one beast after another, all the while screaming from the top of his lungs.

"COME OUT YE BLACK AND TANS. COME OUT AND FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN."

Alonso stayed hidden in the shadows while Beagle put on his performance. None of the Grimm were hardened, thankfully enough. Perhaps The Curse truly had abandoned him. That, more than anything else, told Beagle that it really was time.

"SHOW YOUR WIFE HOW YOU WON MEDALS DOWN IN FLANDERS. TELL HER HOW THE IRA MADE YOU RUN LIKE HELL AWAY. FROM THE GREEN AND LOVELY LANES OF KILLASHANDRA."

A bone splinter came whistling down the hallway and tore into Beagle's leg. He hissed at the pain, but grinned.

"COME TELL US HOW YOU SLEW THEM POOR ARABS TWO BY TWO. LIKE THE ZULUS THEY HAD SPEARS AND BOWS AND ARROWS."

He slapped a fresh magazine into his rifle as the Grimm closed the gap to their target. At the same time, though, he was closing the gap towards his.

"I don't know what you're trying to accomplish, little rat, but I'm also concerned why you aren't dead. An error that I intend to correct."

Beagle was glad that he already had a grin on his face from the fight, because he wasn't sure he would have been able to hide it upon hearing Merlot's words.

"HOW YOU BRAVELY FACED EACH ONE WITH YOUR 16-POUNDER GUN, AND YOU FRIGHTENED THEM POOR NATIVES TO THEIR MARROW."

More bone splinters struck the Captain, evidence that the Grimm were recovering from the surprise one-man offensive. Beagle's underslung bayonet deployed with a smooth SHHHHNK, and he ripped through the first Beowolf that got within striking distance.

Though not before it ripped through him, first.

Beagle cried out in pain, with Merlot laughing in the background as the Grimm started to overrun him.

"Don't worry, rat," Merlot assured him, "I want you alive. I feel like my research will be more… edifying… if I'm able to open your chest and root around inside while your heart still beats."

"Come out -cough- ye black and tans…" Beagle struggled, his eyes growing bleary as the monsters overwhelmed him, "come out and -guh- fight me like a man-"

One final swipe to his head was enough to knock Beagle out cold.

"… Rat…"

Beagle's everything hurt.

"Wake up, Rat…"

His head was throbbing with the biggest migraine he could remember having in his life. His limbs felt dead and unable to move, though his knees were on fire.

"Do not test my patience, Rat."

And the moment he opened his eyes? Blinding light.

"Ah," the voice said, coming into clearer focus, "that's better."

Beagle recognized that voice. Despite the lack of a PA system to distort it, the clinical cruelty in every word still echoed in the Captain's ears, clear as day.

Something hard struck him in the side of the head, and Beagle was sent sprawling across the floor. He groaned loudly as he struggled to get back on his knees.

"Not so loud and obnoxious anymore, is he?" a voice asked as though it were filtered through a gas mask. "Just another piece of trash littering your floor, Doctor."

Despite wreaking havoc on Beagle's ability to bring his senses into focus, the kick did help him shake off the fatigue of being knocked out cold moments ago. He had all of his limbs, and he was still wearing his armor, which meant that Merlot's goons were dumb enough to not strip him down before dragging him in front of Merlot.

Amazing. If the guards had discovered even one of the explosives Beagle had hidden in his armor, there's no way they would have let him sit here still wearing it. Either they didn't frisk him at all, or they fell for his decoy mags. Hook, line, and sinker.

There was no denying it now: The Curse was definitely gone.

"Fuck…" he muttered, attempting to add just a tint of dramatic flair to his voice, "What's happening?"

"We're trying to 'face you like a man,' scum," the masked figure answered, amusement in his voice. "But I see no man before me. Just a pathetic little-"

"That's quite enough," Merlot cut it. "The Rat is our guest. The least we can do is treat him with the dignity he deserves and answer his question."

The voice sounded like it was coming from directly above him. Shit, this was almost too easy. Then again, the cost was already going to be as steep as Beagle could make it, so maybe this was Fate giving him a little kickback for his efforts.

Through squinted eyes, Beagle looked up to see Merlot staring down at him. Impeccable lab coat, white hair, aged skin, a critical scowl on his face, and… did he seriously have a cybernetic eye and a robo-arm?

Beagle wasn't sure if he should refer to his captor as Dr. Claw or Locutus of Borg.

"You survived my gas," the scientist said. "While I am willing to concede that it is still in an experimental stage, the potency of the toxin was never an issue. So what is happening now is that you are going to die in here, Rat. For the sake of scientific progress."

"Color me honored," Beagle answered.

"Ah, yes," Merlot said, rolling his eyes. "Stoic humor. I hear your kind is famous for it."

He walked away, lab coat billowing behind him, and Beagle could see one of Merlot's men roll a cart up to the scientist. The sound of small metal objects quietly clinking together echoed through the room as it approached.

"What I don't understand is why," Merlot continued. "Some way, somehow, you are resistant to my toxin. But rather than scurry back to your Avenger and keep your advantage a secret, you announce it by making a ruckus in my lab as you try to fight your way towards me. And since you apparently knew where I was, you must have known that I was in a highly-secure room."

He picked up a wicked looking tool and turned it over in his hands before finishing, "What were you possibly hoping to accomplish with a rifle?"

Beagle shrugged. "I prefer to make my plans as I go. One step at a time, and all that. Step one was to find you and try to shoot you. Step two was to improvise if that didn't work."

Merlot stared at him. "How does XCOM get anything meaningful accomplished with absolute idiots like you running around?"

"I ask myself that every day, honestly."

"Really, though. Your methods are so… brutish," Merlot said. "You could have infiltrated my base, tried to sabotage my efforts without me even knowing you were here. Installed surveillance equipment that would let you keep tabs on my progress. That could have been absolutely crippling if done correctly. You do realize that, right?"

Beagle said nothing.

"But no," Merlot continued, finally settling on a tool and approaching Beagle once more. "You choose to come in through the front door, guns blazing as you lay waste to everything you see."

The masked guards grabbed Beagle's arms and pulled them taut. Merlot loomed over him, cutter in hand.

"What I want to know, before you're in too much pain to formulate a simple thought, is why. Why do barbarians like you think you can change the world? Why do you choose to struggle against darkness itself? You cannot win against the march of inevitability. This is an inconsequential blip in my efforts to achieve greatness. You have accomplished nothing here today."

One of the guards grabbed Beagle by the head and pulled back, forcing the Captain to look up into the scientist's glowing eye.

"So what was even the point?"

Beagle scowled at Merlot.

"Because fuck you, that's why."

Click.

"Mac, we gotta move."

No. No no no no. This wasn't right. This was all kinds of fucked up. Yeah, Beags was a big boy who could make his own decisions. The fact that he was a Captain meant that Bradford trusted him to make his own decisions. But this one?

"Mac."

The Bullhead's engines were hot. All the other Strike Teams and rescuees had dusted off minutes ago. Strike Five was sitting tight on the last airship waiting to make a beeline for the Avenger. They were all waiting on him. And yet…

"Beags," he croaked into his comm. "Beags, say something."

He tried to remotely hack Beagle's comm again. The hack worked, and his ear was flooded with the sound of gunfire and the dumbest goddamn Aussie daring Merlot to come out and fight him.

"Mac."

MacAuley sighed. Beagle was still fighting. He didn't need MacAuley yet. The engineer climbed aboard the Bullhead and put a hand on the pilot's shoulder.

"We're not getting out of here until I say so," he said. "Beags is making sure this base is getting leveled, and he's making extra sure that the asshole who runs it is going down with the ship. We're not leaving until he's done."

The pilot glanced back at MacAuley. "What's that got to do with us?"

Mac pulled the auxiliary detonator out of his pocket. The pilot's eyes grew wide.

"… Ah."

"Be ready to boogie the moment you start to feel the floor shake," MacAuley warned.

Just has he finished giving his orders to the pilot, the gunfire stopped. Mac's blood turned to ice.

Oh, fuck.

"Be calm, and hold fast," a voice said on the comms as Mac was mentally preparing himself to blow the lab. He recognized it as Alonso. "The Captain is not done yet."

MacAuley said nothing, but waited. The cargo hold was dead silent as everyone looked on. From Beagle's active commlink, Mac heard everything. He heard the Grimm disperse. He heard the soldiers grab his Captain. He heard them laughing as they dragged Beagle into the lab. He heard Merlot demand they pat him down. He heard them comment on all the ammunition Beagle was packing. He heard them toss his rifle aside. He heard them kick their prisoner awake. He heard the conversation between Beagle and Merlot.

And then finally…

"Because fuck you, that's why."

He knew. He knew that was the exact moment Beagle was expecting him to push the button. He flipped the safety cap off of the detonator, hesitated for half a heart-beat.

This was his friend he was about to bury. Could he really-

Rumble.

His eyes grew wide as he felt the ground shake.

The pilot didn't need any confirmation that it was time to get the hell out of dodge. MacAuley stared at the unused detonator in his hand while the airship rose up and shot out of the hangar. Behind them, the Bullhead's occupants could feel the chain reaction of all the explosives, carefully placed by Shadow Team, tear the lab apart.

The airship's hold was quiet. Nobody cheered at the destruction of Merlot's work. Nobody celebrated the victory of a successful op. The pilot simply radioed back to the Avenger to confirm that they were en route with all of Strike Five onboard.

And MacAuley couldn't tear his eyes away from the detonator in his hands.

A/N: So, uh... yeah. That's a thing. If you'd like to know about the inspiration behind Beagle's final talk with Blake, I'll be posting it on the Discord server. It's something that Beaglerush himself created, actually, and I couldn't think of a more fitting end to his character's story.

So what's after Atlas? Well, the end of RU is after Atlas. But before you start panicking, please read the next sentence. RU is ending after Atlas because this story has grown into something that is a helluva lot larger than I had originally anticipated. I didn't realize how much story I wanted to tell, I guess. So rather than cram everything into one, uncomfortably large story, I'm choosing to use Atlas as a good stopping point for RU and splitting off the rest of REMCOM's tale into a third installment. Using Atlas as the break point works rather well, I think, because the ramifications of the finale are going to be (I hope) rather pivotal in the fight between XCOM and ADVENT. Remnant's landscape is going to change, and I'm looking forward to how that's going to play out for the story.

And related to that, here comes the bit of unfortunate news. After the end of RU, I will be taking a year off before I start up the third story. Part of this is, quite simply, to take a break. I've been at this for three and a half years, compared to RWBY Within's one. I've taken multi-month hiatuses here and there, but I've been mostly 'on' during that time. I need to rest. Actually rest, as opposed to waiting three months between finishing RW and starting to write for RU. My wife misses me. I haven't played a game on Steam through to completion in a long time, and my backlog is starting to give me dirty looks. Furthermore, I've promised, like, three or four people that I'd start to read their works and give them feedback. My excuse thus far for why I haven't yet is that I've had to devote all of my time to the Atlas arc. They've been incredibly patient while they wait, and I don't want to make them wait any longer.

But beyond that, I also want to spend time planning. I tried to do that before starting RU, but I ended up falling back into my old habit of just shooting from the hip. After I've had some time to recharge, I want to plot out my course for the next story, have some semblance of a structure to it, and get feedback from my team on Discord. Because holy shit, I have a team now, and I want to make the most of their willingness to help while I try to plan out the final installment of the REMCOM story to make sure that it's something I can really be proud of.

So I will absolutely be around on the Discord server while I'm taking a year off. I'll probably spend more time on the RPGCOM server (perhaps to keep practicing and improving my writing in a casual setting), and I will eventually be working with the server's Recon team to start charting a course through to the end of the story.

For now, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you'll enjoy the one that follows.

Cheers,

Doc