A/N:So it looks like some people interpreted the end of the last chapter as a foreboding cliffhanger that indicates Pyrrha's going to be in trouble when she wakes up. I apologize for the confusion, and that wasn't my intention. I'll just tell you right now that she's going to be fine after she comes out of surgery. Well, as fine as someone can be when they're paralyzed from the neck down. But at least she's not going to get worse.

As for this chapter? This chapter more than most has been a labor of love with several fantastic people on the Discord. From major section suggestions to correction of grammatical mistakes, I'm incredibly pleased with the final product of the process. Enjoy.

"Hello, and welcome to the evening report with Lisa Lavender. We are joined by a very special guest tonight: none other than the Autumn Maiden, Cinder Fall herself."

Roman's ears perked up from where he sat in the corner of his cell. The guards posted in the brig would often watch whatever stupid drivel was airing on the CCTS, but for once… for once he was interested in listening in. He didn't dare get up from his bed, though. Wouldn't want the idiots to think he actually cared. While his companion had the luxury of using her illusions to safely park herself by the video screen, audio would have to suffice for poor old Roman.

"Thank you for coming on to speak with us and share your thoughts on the troubles currently facing the four kingdoms."

"It is my absolute pleasure, Miss Lavender." Oh yes, that was definitely her, "After all the hardships they've endured, the people of Remnant deserve to know the truth."

"... Yes." The reporter acknowledged, "I think we can all agree that the truth has been a tricky thing to sort out, especially of late. Which is why we're so glad to have you here, Miss Fall. Getting multiple perspectives on current events is the first step towards building an informed opinion."

"Of course it is." Cinder affirmed. Roman silently chuckled, knowing well that his former boss wasn't agreeing with her host, merely playing with such a simple mind. "And I'm just dying to hear the other point of view."

Roman didn't need a video screen to feel the discomfort in the newsroom.

And yet, the reporter heroically pressed on, "Well, let's start with yours first. From what we've seen in the short time since you made your announcement, you've been hard at work trying to help the people of Vale."

"I fully intend to lend my aid and inspiration to citizens of all the Kingdoms." Cinder answered. Roman imagined she was likely crossing those gorgeous legs right now, which not only made her desirable, but redirected attention from her eyes which almost certainly betrayed her smug satisfaction, "But I think it's a universally accepted truth by now that the people of Vale are in dire straits. Even after almost two months, the so-called huntsmen have done almost nothing to remedy their suffering."

"The Grimm have kept the huntsmen busy-"

"Then why did it only take me two days to do what they have failed to accomplish in weeks: securing the wall?" Cinder accused, "Why are my agents the first to establish safe routes between outposts as they work to make the city habitable again?"

"I…"

Cinder sighed deeply. Her breathe oozed with sorrow. "I apologize. You've all looked up to the huntsmen for so long. So did I, in my youthful naivete. Even knowing what I know now, the pain is still sharp. When I watch those who have power to help the people they've sworn to protect choose instead not to use it to the fullest extent, and instead use that power to elevate only themselves? It makes me weep. But citizens of Vale no longer need to pin their hopes on the huntsmen. My contacts in Atlas tell me that the Kingdom's government is already planning a gesture of good faith and sending supplies and manpower to help us restore Vale to a state of safety, freedom, and prosperity."

"Gimme a fuckin' break…" One of the guards groaned, "Who the fuck does she think she's fooling?"

Roman smirked. They would learn soon enough.

The reporter seemed to have regained her composure. "That is very generous of them, but isn't Atlas concerned about the appearance of such an action? Some might see it as a hostile takeover of their homeland rather than a selfless act of assistance."

"Then I pity those people and their inability to set aside their prejudice to allow us to make their lives better." Cinder said, her tone slightly biting. "Every man, woman, and child on Remnant deserves to feel safe, deserves to be safe. I will not let the feelings of a close-minded minority stop me from uplifting the masses. In my mind, these agitators are only marginally better than the terrorists known as XCOM."

"Let's talk about XCOM." Lisa said. "You seem to have a very strong opinion of a group that, by many accounts, was pivotal in saving countless lives during the Battle for Vale."

Oh, this should be good.

"Why don't I start with a question?" Cinder asked, "Is it really commendable to 'save countless lives' when countless more were lost to events that you were directly responsible for?"

"That is an incredible accusation. Do you have any evidence to support it?"

Roman could almost hear the grin spreading across Cinder's face as she said, "I'm glad you asked, Lisa. Because as it turns out, I do-"

The jail guards were not amused. "... the fuck?"

Roman could barely suppress a malicious giggle.

"... Or have you already forgotten about the file I displayed in my first message to Remnant? If you would be so kind as to lend me your scroll..."

This part of the plan was new to Roman, but he didn't doubt for a second that it had been concocted by the crazy bitch Cinder worked for. From what he'd heard, she loved working on a need-to-know basis, and given some of the stories that trickled down from those who met her? Roman really didn't mind not needing to know.

"Miss Lavender, you now hold in your hands the entirety of the XCOM data injected into Amity's systems. Believe me when I say that much of the contents is… disturbing."

"Indeed…" The reporter's voice was one of quiet shock, and Roman could only imagine what kind of scandalous 'evidence' she was scrolling through on her device right about now.

"Hey Volt, I don't think she's bluffing anymore…"

"You're right. Now she's fucking lying."

"So what are we going to do about it?"

"What can we do about it? We're stuck here until we get the engine issue sorted out. Just gotta hope that our covert operatives are out there fighting the good fight in XCOM's name so we don't have the entire fucking planet turned against us."

Oh, it was too late for that, fools, Roman mentally gloated. It wouldn't be long before every last one of these pathetic XCOM mongrels were hunted down and exterminated like the vermin they were! Roman hoped he'd be allowed a front row seat when that happened, of course.

On the screen, the reporter finished her brief skimming of the evidence and regained her voice. "Let's… let's shelve this topic for now, as it looks like I have some homework to do before I can faithfully report on it to our listeners."

"Of course. It is not my intention to bullrush you into saying something you don't believe on air. Take your time, do your due diligence, I am confident you will reach the same conclusions I did."

"Thank you. Do you have any comments on the bandits,raiders, and other criminal elements that are currently plaguing Vale? While the threat of the Grimm is a greater issue, these criminals are taking advantage of the weakened kingdom to advance their own selfish goals."

"It's despicable." Cinder said with enough venom to make Roman double-take, "These gangsters and thugs are parasites. They only drain society of value, causing chaos and fear, while offering nothing in return. I've heard rumors that XCOM has aligned themselves with one such cartel, and that only deepens my hatred for them."

"Ehhh, fuck you too, lady." One of the operatives called out, hocking a spitwad at the screen. As if that would do anything.

"And what of Roman Torchwick?" Lisa asked. Roman blinked. "Rumor has it that the infamous Valean criminal did some work with-"

"I'm going to stop you right there and point out that your comment hinges on a baseless rumor. Perhaps I wasn't clear: criminal elements who refuse to reform and work for the greater good have no place the world I envision. Roman Torchwick's exploits demonstrate that he is corrupt to the core, and I would throw him behind bars -where he belongs- the moment I got my hands on him."

Roman's skin began to crawl as the reporter started to wrap up the interview. The operatives looked away from the screen and slowly turned around to cast an amused glance at their prisoner.

"Looks like you've been sold out, Droog," one of his jailors called out. Roman hadn't the faintest idea what that name meant, but they'd called him that on multiple occasions now, "You still sure that a rescue is coming?"

For once in his life, Roman didn't have a witty comeback.

"It doesn't make sense."

Weiss looked up from her drink to see Winter staring at the wall. The two of them had once again decided to spend some time together in Winter's little hideout so that they might relieve some tension for an hour or two away from the fear of prying eyes.

"No matter how ruthless our father might be, murdering two men with little provocation and without due process is not how he operates," Winter said, her eyes intensely focused on the chipped stones before her."

Weiss had learned to recognize when her sister's thoughts were on a roll, and so she quietly sipped the wine from her glass while Winter tried to parse her next words.

"I've said this before, but … there has been a growing sense of unease and paranoia whenever I spend any extended period of time at Schnee Manor." She broke her gaze away from the wall and glanced over at Weiss, "More than usual, I mean. It's... why I come here more often to escape the discomfort. Tell me I'm not crazy."

"No," Weiss quietly said. "I've noticed the same thing."

Sure, a lot of the security detail at the mansion seemed on edge, but that was always the case, given her father's expectations for something felt different. Off. Perhaps the ordered execution of the two XCOM 'spies' had been a step too far for the staff. Perhaps everyone was starting to wonder if the power, wealth, and responsibility of the SDC was finally starting to erode Jacques Schnee's grip on reality.

Apparently Weiss's train of thought was riding parallel to her sister's.

"The moment Cinder finished her speech, Father apparently ordered my companions captured and had them dragged into the waiting room so he and Whitley could watch me squirm. He wanted to see where my loyalties lie," Weiss said dejectly.

"Remind yourself that faunus die every year from the near-slave labor they endure in the quarries." Winter said, her eyes returning to the wall, "You may be wondering why he would inflict such cruelty upon his own daughter, but think of how he runs his business. When has Father ever shown actual remorse for the lives lost during mining accidents? He'll say a few things on a vetted interview for PR damage control, act like he's taking steps to stop the problem from happening again, but then he replaces the dead workers and everything is business as usual the next day."

Weiss took a sip from her glass and rose from where she sat to join her sister at the wall. "You're right, of course. It just caught me off-guard. It's… been so long since I've been home that I forgot that the only thing he cares about -that he has ever cared about- is money and power."

"So why kill them?" Winter repeated, circling back around to their original conversation, "It doesn't serve either of those two goals."

Weiss pondered, then shrugged. "Maybe he sees ADVENT as an opportunity. If Cinder really is able to back up her claims, then I'm sure Father made some inroads by executing 'those traitors' without question."

"It's a gamble," Winter somberly declared.

It was true. Backing one side of a dispute from the outset was in arguably a gamble, and Weiss knew her father hated to gamble. And yet, despite their candid conversation about Jacque's (lack of) moral scruples, even she couldn't see him knowingly siding with true evil in exchange for a little more power.

"It doesn't make sense…" She muttered, almost without realizing it.

Winter snorted and took a swig from her own glass, "That's what I'm saying."

The two stood in silence, leaning against the table as they stared at wall. While she was sure that Winter was still spinning her wheels trying to square the circle of their father's actions, Weiss reflected on her relationship with her sister. She'd looked up to Winter for as long as she could remember. It felt like she'd spent more effort trying to please Winter than she did Father. And while both would express disappointment in Weiss, it felt deserved when Winter gave it. Jacques would be disappointed whenever Weiss could't meet his standards, whether she was capable of it or not. With Winter, though... she would only express her dissatisfaction when she knew that Weiss could do better.

So Weiss always pushed herself to prove that Winter's trust in her skills wasn't misplaced. Sure, she put on a show for her father that her efforts were meant to "live up to the Schnee name" or whatever, but what really mattered more to her was earning a smile of approval from Winter. Her sister's demand for improvement wasn't borne out of a selfish need to reflect well on the family, but a desire to watch Weiss improve for her own sake. It was after this revelation that Weiss realized she truly loved her sister, and that somehow in her stern way, her sister loved her back.

After her time in XCOM's brutal war, Weiss's insecurities about her own skills had all but vanished. Surviving a planetary struggle for survival and coming out of it a hero tended to have that effect. And yet, despite knowing that the huntress she was today was leagues beyond the Weiss Schnee that first stepped foot on Beacon's grounds, she still felt a deep-seated urge to do right by Winter. The fact that Weiss Schnee, Heiress of the Schnee Dust Company was now Weiss Schnee, Master Sergeant of XCOM only proved that Winter saw more in Weiss than Weiss had seen in herself.

Standing here with Winter, as a fellow huntress who earned enough trust to be allowed into her private sanctuary, meant more to Weiss than Winter probably realized.

"Weiss?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm… concerned about Ironwood's plan."

Evidently, Winter had grown tired of trying to decipher the mysteries of Father Dearest. Weiss didn't blame Winter for her misgivings. The two of them knew, however, that not only was it important to get some insight into Merlot's operations, but backing out now would look suspicious.

"Anything I can do to help?"

Winter sighed, "I… this sounds stupid. Perhaps I'm being paranoid about everything, but I wonder if it would be prudent to have some… contingency plans in place before I go through with the operation."

"That sounds like a wise idea." Weiss answered. It was also something Weiss had experience with, thanks to her work with the covert operatives. Perhaps it was time to formally introduce Winter to Atlas's other surviving member of XCOM.

Blake flexed her arm nervously. Around her swirled the bright colors and musical sounds of Menagerie's best market, but her eyes were unhappily glued to the gloved fingers she cautiously flexed.

"What's wrong, tall, dark, and sexy?" Yang playfully asked. When Blake didn't answer immediately, Yang tried again more gently. " … Blake?"

"It feels … off,' Blake admitted. She still couldn't take her eyes off her sleeved right arm. "I know it's mechanically identical to the one before…" She didn't finish the sentence, though she did turn to Yang. Her eyes shifted nervously up to her partner's face before she hunched her shoulders and peered back down again in guilt. She tried not to think about Adam, but the distracting nature of the arm served as a reminder of why Yang needed to lend it to her in the first place. Even worse was when that train of thought caused Blake to dwell on all the time lost when she shunned her parents only to devote herself to someone she eventually had to slay herself.

"I get it," Yang said with the rare tenderness she'd come to reserve for Blake. "It's not the same. Heh, it's funny that we've grown so attached to specific metal limbs, am I right? But … like I said before, I think it'll help your mom and dad deal with it, you know?" Yang gently emphasized her point by lifting her right arm, which was hidden by her jacket. She wiggled the gloved fingers, which if someone looked closely were slimmer than what was normal for humans.

Blake nodded. She couldn't bring her eyes up to look at her partner, but she knew Yang was right.. Her partner approached her on the last night of the (thankfully uneventful) boat ride to Menagerie and made the offer to lend Blake the arm. Vahlen had rigged up an Atlesian Knight's arm as a crude interim replacement, but Yang pointed out that Blake's parents might be a little less shocked by the news if they first laid eyes on a daughter that wasn't rocking a Terminator aesthetic.

"C'mon, it'll be fine." Yang said, sensing her partner's unease, "I mean, sure you haven't seen your parents in a long time-"

"Years." Blake corrected.

Yang shrugged, "So what? You think that they'll take one look at you and tell you to get lost?"

Blake's words came out as a near-unintelligible mumble, "I don't know…"

A pair of hands grabbed Blake firmly by the shoulders, and she looked up to see Yang staring intensely at her. Blake could count on one hand the number of times she'd seen that look, and it startled her slightly to see Yang wearing it now.

"Blake Belladonna." Yang said, "You are an amazing fighter, amazing woman, amazing friend, and -I assume- an amazing daughter. If your parents are anything like you, then I know that they feel the same way."

"But I ran away from home!" Blake argued, "All I left them was a note! I left them for Adam!"

Yang raised an eyebrow, "Do you think they'll hold that against you? Or do you think they'll be happy that you made the right choice and decided to come back home?"

The two partners stared at each other for a while, with Blake still firmly stuck in Yang's grasp. Eventually, Blake sighed and offered a slight smile, "I'm glad you've got my back."

"Always."

The two continued their way down the path towards the house of Belladonna. The sandy beaches and stone tiles of the harbor market gave way to a dirt path and tall grass gently bowing to the island's light breeze as Blake led Yang towards the residential district of the coastal town. The living accommodations they passed by varied wildly, from stilted houses to dingy shacks to one or two impressive manors. Regardless of status or wealth, each building carried the artistic flair that Blake knew was a core value of the proud faunus of Menagerie.

"So what are the operatives up to?" Yang asked, "I was sorta-kinda side-tracked by all the sights and sounds." Yang gave her a bright, cheesy grin when Blake glowered at her. "Oh, c'mon! You might be used to it because it's home, but the harbor is to die for! Can you blame me 'cuz I didn't really pay attention to what you were telling them?"

Blake rolled her eyes as they walked past the last couple of houses on the way to their destination. The density of palm trees had increased as they moved further inland, and shade felt nice compared to the hot sun beating down on the island. "I told them to take the afternoon to casually explore and get a general sense of the settlement. Coco did a good job dressing them up as tourists, and gave them some lien to go shopping for some… articles to supplement her growing fashion operation onboard the Avenger."

"It helps to have a well-connected friends with deep pockets, huh," Yang quipped with a cheeky grin.

"With Weiss in Atlas, I admit I was concerned," Blake quietly said. "I'm pleasantly surprised Coco had no problem filling that role, though I suspect it helped that she got an expanded wardrobe out of the deal."

"You can't argue with results," Yang said gleefully. "And look at our styling upgrades!"

Even Blake and Yang got to enjoy the benefits of Coco's artistry. When she saw Blake walking around with the Atlesian Knight's arm, she dragged the two huntresses into the Avenger's newly-established "Dressing & Photography" room to determine suitable additions to their outfits that would help conceal the robotic nature of their arms. She settled on a long-sleeved white jacket for Blake that hung open on the front and had coattails that fell down to her ankles. For Yang, she selected a combination of a biker jacket and gloves that were both long enough to cover the limbs and light enough to not feel out-of-place in a tropical town.

"Makes sense to give the guys some downtime." Yang agreed, "It's not every day you get to play tourist in a sweet island town. They should at least have one day to enjoy themselves before getting down to business. Especially since we're already jumping on that."

The duo reached the front of the big house, which meant that Blake had run out of time to mentally delay what came next. She stared at the heavy door knocker for a few seconds, let out a steadying breath, and used the giant ring to gently tap the wood frame.

Yang let out a low whistle while Blake stepped back to wait for someone to answer.

"Think your parents will like me?"

"So long as you don't make an idiot of yourself? Probably."

"So don't be like Sun?"

"Yeah… don't be like Sun," Blake deadpanned.

After a few tense moments of waiting, the door cracked open and Blake instantly recognized the face of her mother peering through the opening to see who could be showing up at her doorstep. Kali Belladonna's eyes grew wide when she realized who had decided to pay her a visit. She breathed her daughter's name before rushing out to crush her in a hug.

Blake caught the the familiar scent of her mother's favorite perfume, and it unlocked a deep, almost primal memory that Blake had nearly forgotten. Finally, it hit her that she was home.

"... Hi, mom."

Kali didn't answer, except to squeeze her daughter even tighter. A few moments later, however…

"It feels like you're wearing armor under your clothes." Her mother commented, stepping back to size up her daughter. Joy warred with confusion on her mother's face., "Are you all right?"

Blake nodded, trying to force a smile, "I'm fine, mom. We, uh… have a lot to talk about, though."

"I'll say." Kali said. A glance out the corner of her eye reminded Kali that Blake didn't come alone, and she turned to look at Yang with an apologetic grin, "I'm so sorry! Where are my manners? I'm Kali Belladonna. And you are…?"

"Yang Xiao Long." Yang answered, offering her hand for a shake. Kali brushed it aside and pulled her into a hug.

"A handshake is far too formal for the young lady that brought my baby back to me." Kali said, she let go and gestured for her two guests to follow her inside. Yang gave Blake a thumbs-up as they stepped through the doorway after Kali. It didn't escape Blake's notice that her partner used the 'Terminator hand' for the gesture.

"Your father is out at a meeting right now." Kali said as she led them through the spacious foyer and into a cozy waiting room, "But I'm sure he's going to be ecstatic when he sees you. Both of you." She added, glancing back at Yang. The two huntresses took a seat when Kali gestured to a small sofa. Blake watched her mother stop for a moment to simply stare at her guests with a blissful smile.

After a moment of pleasant silence, Kali turned around and moved towards the door. "I'm going to put on a kettle for some tea." she called over her shoulder as she left the room, "It will only be a moment."

Before Blake could even let out a sigh of relief, Kali poked her head back into the room and looked at Yang, "Would you be a dear and make sure she doesn't go anywhere?"

"Mom!"

Yang offered a salute as Blake stared in shock at the empty doorway. It only took Yang a few moments to break the silence.

"I like her."

Blake rolled her eyes and finally allowed herself breathe and take stock of the situation. An elbow found its way into her ribs, and Blake looked over to see her partner smiling back at her.

"So far so good?" Yang asked.

"Yeah… so far so good." Blake admitted, "I'm just worried about when my dad gets home."

"Pffft, I'm not worried. You've got me and your mom now. Us ladies'll stick together." Yang looked up and smirked, "Right Mrs. Belladonna?"

"Absolutely!" Kali answered as she sat down on the couch across from her guests, "If I hear one rude word out of my husband's mouth…"

"I definitely like her." Yang said.

Kali jumped in, clearly eager for the conversation to begin, "So I know we have a lot to talk about, Blake, but I have to ask first: the armor. You said you're okay, and I believe you, but I felt the same thing on Yang." Kali's eyes were gentle, but the look she gave Blake brooked no refusal. "You need to come clean with your mother, my dear."

Blake felt her ears droop as she exchanged a look with Yang. Might as well get the worst news out of the way.

"We… well, I got injured during a fight almost a year ago. Really badly, actually." Her heart twinged when she saw the fear spread across her mother's face, "I was telling you the truth when I said I'm fine, mom. Because I am. Now. But when it happened… the only way to save me was to… uh... "

Blake hesitated, floundering for words that could possibly ease the blow for her mother. She tried to just out and say it, but the words got caught in her throat. When her hesitation lasted for more than a beat, Yang took it upon herself to help out, "To surgically remove her limbs."

Kali's face grew pale, "B-but your arms when you hugged me… they felt… normal."

Blake felt a gentle shove on her back, and she glanced over to see Yang giving her a pointed look before she got the hint to get up and relocate to her mother's couch.

"They're prosthetics, mom." Blake explained as Kali wrapped her arms protectively around her daughter, "Really convincing ones, which makes it easier to not stand out in public. But they are definitely robotic."

A few tears ran down Kali's face as she held her baby girl. It only took a few seconds before something clicked in her mind, however, and she looked up. "Then… Yang…" She cast a pained glance at the other huntress, and the anguish grew on her face once more when Yang nodded, "You…?"

"If you're thinking I got injured like Blake did," Yang said, dusting off her pants as she stood up to join Kali on the couch, "Then no."

"But…?"

Yang silenced her host with a comforting hand on Kali's, "Blake is my partner, Miss Belladonna. I once told her that, while I had no idea what that means to her, to me it meant I had no intention of letting her go through such a life-changing transformation without having someone be there to shoulder the burden with her."

With a tug, Yang pulled off one of her leather gloves to reveal the metallic sheen of the Atlesian Knight limb she wore. "And I wasn't about to trust that to somebody else."

The room fell silent as Blake and Yang gave Kali some time to process everything. Yang excused herself to check on the water so that mother and daughter could be alone for a minute.

The two of them spent that minute in silence, and Blake watched as a slideshow of expressions crossed over her mother's face while her brain worked overtime to process all the information and the ramifications they entailed. Confusion, anger, horror, pity, relief, sadness, rage… Blake could almost imagine herself going with Kali Belladonna on her journey of grief and doubt as she tried to imagine what unspeakable suffering her daughter had to go through, and how she was helpless to ease the pain.

It reminded Blake of when she watched Yang and Tai go through the same thing.

"I just thought of something," Kali whispered, her eyebrows furrowed as she finally broke her silence, "You said this happened almost a year ago? And that Yang went through the surgery with you?"

Blake had a feeling she knew where this was going, "Yes, mom."

"But I saw your matches during the tournament." Kali continued, "You were introduced as a freshman team. Did you know each other from before you enrolled?"

Yep. "The answer to that is a lot more complicated than you think, mom. And it's an answer I want dad to hear, too. If you don't mind waiting until he gets home, we'll tell both of you everything."

Kali nodded. "Can you at least… show me? I… I think I want to see the extent of the damage. And I don't want to wait."

"Of course."

Yang came back in with the kettle and some cups on a tray and set it down in front of the couch.

"I'll be honest, I'm more of an instant coffee gal than anything, so I'm not really sure when you put the leafy thingies in the kettle thingy to make the water taste like not-water." Yang grinned sheepishly as a look of disbelief passed over Kali's face, "I'll, uh… I'll leave the rest of the preparations to you."

Kali glanced at Blake, eyebrow raised, "You've known her for how long, and you haven't shown her how to prepare tea?"

Blake felt her ears droop again.

Ghira heaved a sigh as he stepped up to the front door of his home. Meeting with Sienna was always a mentally taxing feat, but he'd noticed that she'd become even more agitated as of late. Sure, the attack on Vale had put everyone on edge, but Khan seemed to be taking it more personally than most. Maybe she was bracing for the worst-case (and, if Ghira was being honest, the most likely) scenario where everyone assumed that the White Fang was at fault, and she was stressing herself out in anticipation for the uphill battle that was likely to come.

However, the arrival of Cinder Fall, her call to action, and her open acceptance of faunus and the White Fang was a stroke of good fortune that nobody could have anticipated. If Sienna played her cards right, there might be a non-violent way forward for the faunus after all.

And yet, somehow Ghira doubted that his successor would be willing to walk that path so easily. Perhaps it was time for him to step up his role in the organization and try to help the White Fang do the right thing-

Ghira froze as his ears picked up voices inside the house. He recognized Kali's voice instantly. And while she didn't sound distressed, the other voice, another woman's, was one he'd never heard before. His wife was a generally social woman, but Ghira knew that their house was her sanctuary. The two of them frequently attended functions and made public appearances as appropriate, but nobody that wasn't a close friend of the Belladonnas was allowed inside their residence.

And Ghira knew all of Kali's friends.

He gently put his portfolio down on a table by the door, and stalked the hallway as quietly as he could towards the sound of idle chatter.

"It's actually quite comfortable once you get past the initial weirdness." The stranger said, "Of course, my doofus-of-a-partner flatly refused to join me in The Way of the Potato."

His wife giggled just as Ghira was reaching for the door handle to the sitting room, "And why is that, Blake?"

Ghira Belladonna, proud figurehead of the White Fang and Chieftain of Menagerie, felt his heart flutter and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end at the sound of a name he hadn't heard in years. The voice he heard next sent icy flames through his veins.

"It just isn't my thing, I guess."

Ghira could be left in isolation for a million years, and he would still be able to recognize his daughter's voice in a cacophonous courtyard from the moment she opened her mouth. He flung the door open, and was greeted with a shriek from his wife, a startled look from Blake, and a choking sound from the mysterious stranger whose back was turned to the door.

The sight that greeted Ghira was… not what he expected. While he did expect to see his daughter, having finally come home, he didn't consider that his entrance would give his wife a heart attack and cause her to topple backwards over the arm of the couch and crash unceremoniously to the floor. He also didn't expect, upon closer examination of Blake, to see a very prominent lack of a left arm on her body as she rushed to help her mother.

And as he likewise rushed forward to help his wife, he almost tripped when he noticed that the figure on his couch didn't have any limbs as she continued to spew liquid all over the furniture.

With his attention occupied by the new discovery, and with the sudden commotion causing his adrenaline to spike, Ghira plowed straight into the couch and then sailed through the air over his wife and daughter. He felt the wall groan in protest as it halted his momentum, and the room grew silent for a stunned moment.

The stranger seemed to regain her composure first, "So, uh… Mr. Belladonna, right? Hi, I'm Yang Xiao Long. Blake's partner. I'd, uh… shake your hand, but… well…"

Ghira blinked away the stars clouding his vision and sat up. He looked at Yang, looked at his shocked family, and then back at Yang.

Wait, was she drinking his beer?

Not the time, Ghira. Your daughter is here. Say something!

"... Hi, honey." He said, looking at his wife. Then, to his daughter, "It's… it's nice to see you, my little warrior. How, uhm, how was your day?"

In the blink of an eye, the little black ball that called itself Blake launched itself at Ghira, wrapped an arm around his neck, and buried its head in his chest. He felt her body quake against his and felt silent tears on his chest. His fatherly instincts kicked in. Ghira gently laid his massive hands on his daughters back as he held her in his arms for the first time in years.

"Welcome home, my heart."

Winter cast a quick glance around the empty street before ducking into a dirty back alley that matched Weiss's instructions. She wasn't sure what kind of significance a stylized "VC" had for XCOM, but her sister told her to look for those letters in the usual array of graffiti one would find in the slums, and they would tell her where to go. No stranger to the seedier parts of Atlas, Winter adjusted her usual 'hoodlum' sweater to make sure her family's recognizable hair remained concealed as she continued her search for the next sign. The vagrants sitting in the alley paid her no mind as she swaggered past, her shoulders hunched and her hands stuffed into the pockets of her attire.

As much as it made sense for covert operatives to use… undesirable locations for meetings away from prying eyes, Winter had to admit that she never quite got over her distaste of the local flora and fauna on her way to this sort of rendezvous. The fact that they reminded her of Qrow made everything that much more unbearable. Even so, her opinions and distaste remained internalized as she maintained her confident walk down the snow-covered corridor.

A couple of children giggled up ahead as they played some sort of ball game in the alley. They reminded Winter that, while Atlas liked to project an image of discipline and wealth to the other kingdoms, one could still find wiry street urchins dressed in grease-stained rags if you bothered to look hard enough. In fact, Atlas's military often depended on the slums as a recruiting ground for the rank-and-file. Winning a fight was easier when you had soldiers who already possessed the will to survive.

Another VC caught Winter's eye, this one hidden in the corner of an artistic mural that gave the Atlesian operative pause. If this mural was made (or commissioned) by the XCOM operatives, they deserved more credit than Winter had previously afforded them. She figured that anyone who viewed themselves as underdogs would likely try to include some sort of 'resistance' motif, a clenched fist fighting off the chains of the oppressor or something of the sort. In Atlas, though, even the lowest of low-lifes detested that kind of imagery, and using it was a surefire way of getting tracked down, beaten half to death, and left in a frozen snowbank somewhere.

Instead, the mural played to Atlas's sense of unity and honor, showing a trio of soldiers in Atlesian uniforms kneeling with guns in hand and a horde of Grimm encroaching from all sides in their sights. A small child looked on in wonder from the safety of their midst. No caption, no sign that this mural was made by someone other than an Atlesian national… the only thing that was even remotely out-of-place were the letters inscribed on the rifle barrels.

And the rifle with "VC" was pointed down towards a cordoned-off tunnel access point.

"Clever…" Winter mused as she slipped past the ropes and quietly descended the stairs. Her sneakers muted the sounds of her footsteps as her eyes adjusted to the even gloomier atmosphere of her new surroundings. Leaning against a column up ahead was a hooded figure who watched as Winter approached. His eyes were concealed by his attire, but the deadpan expression on the lower half of his face didn't tell Winter anything about what sort of guest he might be expecting.

"I am watchful…" The stranger muttered.

"... And I am confident." Winter answered, recalling what Weiss told her to repeat back once she heard the first phrase.

The hooded figure cracked a grin, "We've been expecting you, Miss Schnee. Follow me."

"Are you Odei?" Winter asked as the two of them began their walk down the tunnel. Old lights struggled to stay on as they lit the pathway forwards. Beyond the general state of disrepair, the musty smell assaulting Winter's nose told her that very little had disturbed this place since it first fell out of use however many years ago.

"Nah. I'm just a kid who believes in what these guys are doing." He pulled down his hoodie to reveal a young man with short, black hair and a dark complexion to match, "You can call me Flynt."

The two walked in silence before Flynt took them through a broken doorway and up a flight of stairs. Winter's vision had finished adjusting to the reduced lighting, and she could see why XCOM had chosen this place as a hideout. Not only was it something that nobody else knew about, the absolute stillness made it impossible to try and tail someone without being spotted. And ever since Odin and Osiris died thanks to Weiss's tail…

"Y'know, I wasn't all that big on bringing a Schnee down here." Flynt said, as he led Winter through yet another door. It didn't escape the Specialist's notice that he pushed a button on the frame as he stepped across the entryway, "In fact, what convinced me to give these dudes a shot was hearing that they pissed your dad off enough to get capped."

Winter winced inwardly at the thought of word getting out that her father ordered the execution of two men without a trial. Perhaps XCOM's operative chose to seek Flynt out (for whatever reason) and the information was shared privately in an effort to recruit him.

"Anyone who pisses off Papa Schnee has to be doing something right, I figured." Flynt continued, "But your sister made a pretty convincing case. I don't think you realize how much she's got your back."

"My sister?" Winter asked, "You mean the one named Weiss Schnee?"

"Ah, but see… she's nothing like your bastard father, nor your blue-blooded brother." Flynt said, glancing down with amusement to see Winter slowly balling her fist, "Neither are you, or so she tells us."

Winter's fingernails dug into her palm, and it took every ounce of self-control she had to keep herself from taking a swing at Flynt. Decking this kid would not be a positive start to Winter's relationship with XCOM. Not only that, but she was fairly certain he meant to get a rise out of her with his snide remark, so why give him the satisfaction? With a low sigh, she loosened her grip, reluctantly following her guide in silence.

The two reached a wooden door, boarded shut with rotting lumber. Flynt lightly rapped on the wood, waited a few moments, and looked back at Winter when the lock clicked from within and the door opened.

"After you."

Winter walked into the room to see several occupants in a room that emphasized function over form. There were several beat up chairs (one of which was occupied by Weiss) and a small table, but the most notable objects in the room were several duffel bags of gear and a computer terminal sitting on the floor in the back of the room.

Sitting in a chair across from Weiss was a woman who couldn't be more than a few years older than Winter, and yet she had the unmistakable countenance of someone with the quiet confidence developed after years in the field. Her black hair was cut short, and her narrow eyes looked up from the documents in her lap as she detected the arrival of a newcomer. Her thin frame was relaxed, comfortable as she set aside the papers and rose from her chair The other people in the room carried themselves with more of a gung-ho attitude, but this woman didn't need to prove anything, and she knew it.

Despite the fact that she wore nothing that identified herself as XCOM, Winter was certain: this had to be Odei.

Weiss followed the operative's lead and stood up as soon as she saw Winter step through the door. Unsure of what kind of formalities the operative expected, Winter opted to stay put and let her host make the first move.

"Winter Schnee," the woman said. The others in the room looked curiously at their new guest once they realized who Winter represented. Odei didn't say anything more as she stepped towards the elder Schnee, only stopping once she was a few short paces away. The two locked eyes for a moment before Odei offered a small bow, holding it for several seconds until she returned to her full height with a smile, "Weiss has told me many great things about you. I am Master Sergeant Yuki Furokawa. Or 'Odei,' as I am sure Weiss introduced me."

Odei gestured to her now-unoccupied chair, and Winter took her cue to take a seat. With nothing more than a glance from the operative around the room, the rest of Odei's team immediately stopped staring at XCOM's guest and resumed their previous activities.

"I have been informed that you are in need of my help." The woman commented. Rather than pull up another chair, she simply kneeled at the table and looked from Weiss to Winter,, "As a favor to Weiss, I am happy to do what I can."

"I've already briefed her on your situation." Weiss explained, "We've been going over ideas for the last hour while we waited."

Winter planned to say nothing, to just let Weiss and Odei talk for her and see how much she could get without giving anything in return. When Odei raised an eyebrow at her, however, Winter let out a shaky sigh.

"I have… concerns that going through with this procedure might make me…"

"Compromised." Odei finished, "From what Weiss has told me about Merlot, and from what little I gathered on my own since then, I don't blame you."

"Then why did you show me how to find this place?" Winter asked. The question had been nagging at the back of her mind ever since she met Flynt and she realized that Odei had taken great pains to conceal the location of her hideout, "If I do become compromised, then you won't be safe here."

Odei gestured towards the duffel bags with a smile, "That is why we pack light. But let us imagine how you might become compromised: Case One: it is extremely obvious to you and anyone you know that something has happened. You wouldn't trust yourself, nor would Weiss trust you to keep us a secret. We would not allow you to make further contact with our network.

"Case Two: the compromise is subtle in appearance, and you cannot resist it. Everything would seem normal, but bringing you here would give The Enemy information that we cannot afford to divulge. As such, we would not allow you to make further contact with our network.

"Case Three: the compromise is again subtle in appearance, but you still retain your free will. You suspect that you are compromised, that your every move is being watched. In such a case, you would not want to make further contact with our network.

"Case Four: the compromise is so subtle that you don't even realize that anything is different. However, because of the risk, we would not allow you to make further contact with our network."

If Odei's only plan was to tell her that she was screwed no matter what, Winter was starting to wonder why she'd even bothered to come here.

"So while it saddens me greatly, it seems that I won't be seeing you again for quite some time after you leave today. However, it is vital that you remain in contact with Weiss in all cases except for the first. Whoever might be watching would likely know that the two of you have grown closer, and would suspect that there is something suspicious about Weiss if she suddenly developed a cold shoulder."

Winter mulled over Odei's comments, thinking about the implications of what each scenario would entail. She doubted that Case One would happen, as none of the Atlesian volunteers exhibited any signs of change beyond what was desirable. And if it did happen, Winter would probably be put on a short leash, only let out when Merlot (or whoever he worked for) had a need for her services. It was similarly pointless to worry about Case Two, as Winter would be powerless to do anything to warn Weiss or anyone else.

"The only cases we have any agency over are Three or Four."Winter mused, "And if I don't feel any different, I should assume Case Four and treat it as if it were Case Three."

Odei suddenly grinned. "It's funny. In XCOM, being a Specialist means you didn't kill yourself with your own rifle as a Rookie long enough to get a promotion. Clearly, the rank carries more prestige in Atlas. But yes, that is the same conclusion that we reached."

Winter raised an eyebrow at Weiss, who offered nothing more than a shrug as an explanation for Odei's comment.

"So now that we have the the baseline established," the operative continued, "We should consider contingencies for both cases, starting with a method for tipping off Weiss about which case is the correct one."

Weiss nodded. "The simplest one we thought of would be to have you work the word 'Three' or 'Four' into a sentence when we're having a conversation. That would allow you to easily 'upgrade' the situation from a Four to a Three if something happens since the last time we talk."

"Makes sense." Winter agreed. "What else?"

"Lots else." Odei answered, laying her scroll on the table and pushing it towards Winter, "Do you require extraction from Atlas? Have you discovered a killswitch that prevents you from extracting? Are you in danger? Is Weiss in danger? Is there some critical information that you've discovered? Where can Weiss find it? These are all things you might want to communicate to Weiss without actually saying it. You need to determine a way to do that.

"And then there are the more action-oriented contingencies. What should Weiss do if you become incapacitated? Is there a way for Weiss to break into your secure offices with an extraction team if she knows you are in danger? Does she know all of your safehouses if she needs to find you?"

Winter tabbed through the files on the scroll and was surprised at how much information and planning Odei had come up with, and supposedly in only an hour. Code phrases, action plans, equipment, key locations… a lot of this stuff was right up Winter's alley, but some of the planning was creative enough where even she wouldn't have thought of it.

"Out of respect for the fact that you trust your sister more than you trust XCOM -something that I do not blame you for, mind you- I will leave you two alone to discuss and plan. There is a private room in the back that you may use to ensure that your conversation stays between the two of you."

The three women stood up, and Odei offered Winter another bow.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Winter, even if the time was short. I hope we will meet again someday, preferably under better circumstances. Until then… Vigilo Confido, my friend."

Ah. So that's what VC means.

Ghira popped the tab on a can of beer, draped his free arm around the shoulders of his wife, and took a deep draft from the alcohol while the rest of the room's occupants waited patiently for him to go through the motions of settling in. Blake and her friend had gotten to the part of their story where Blake got stabbed in the gut by a flesh-reaving bug when Ghira stopped them, stood up, and said he needed a drink. His wife had pointed out the pot of tea sitting on the table, but he shook his head as he left the room.

In truth, Ghira needed to not be seen by his family and guest as he felt his chest tighten and his vision grow black once the realities of what had happened to his daughter slammed into him like a truck. So many times he'd told Kali not to worry about Blake. Having her go off and explore the world, to find out who she really was, could only be a good thing. "But she could get hurt!" Kali had wailed. "She can take care of herself." Ghira had answered with an air of nonchalance. Learning that his daughter had come closer to death than Ghira ever did, and that her body was permanently transformed from the experience…

Visions of his tearful wife, fretting over their only child, the child that they tried for so long to conceive, raced through his mind. His casual assurances that Blake would be fine were always partly to assure himself that he was making the right decision by not going after her, by not being the embarrassing parent that picked up his kid by the scruff of her neck and marched her back home in abject humiliation. She needed to learn that the world was dangerous, he thought, and that sheltering her would do more harm than good. He'd convinced himself so thoroughly of this, that Kali's concerns started to grate on his nerves as one year turned into two.

And his cavalier attitude, his desire to prioritize proving himself right over the fears of his wife, had almost lost the one thing that Kali cared about more than anything else in the entire fucking world.

"Ghira…"

He looked up, and a distorted, watery image of the love of his life standing patiently in the doorway greeted his eyes. Kali quietly closed the gap between them, wiped away her husband's tears, and put a finger to his lips when he opened his mouth to apologize.

"She's back, Ghira." Kali whispered, "What happened was in the past. It doesn't matter to me. Our baby is back, and that's all I care about."

"I… I didn't know." Ghira croaked, "I couldn't-"

Soft lips pressed against his silenced Ghira's words. Kali pulled away, grabbed a beer from the fridge for her husband, and the two of them returned to the room where Blake and Yang were waiting.

Now that he was fully composed and his brief mental breakdown was taken care of, Ghira was ready for the girls to continue their story. But first...

"Thank you for telling me -us- everything so far," he began as diplomatically as he could with a throat so tight. "Allow me to recap the events so I can… process how this all came together."

Blake and Yang silently nodded.

"You left Adam," he directed carefully to Blake. "You spent two months making preparations, hid your faunus nature, and applied to Beacon." Blake nodded. "In the selection process, you joined up with Yang, her sister Ruby, and Weiss Schnee -the Weiss Schnee- to form your team, RWBY."

Again, Blake nodded in silence like she usually did, though Yang raised a hand to add, "Well, the team-making process is a bit more randomized than that, but you've basically the gist of it, yeah."

"We've caught a few news broadcasts coming out of Vale featuring your team," Kali noted. "Even so, it seems so… unreal you became a partner of the same student team as Weiss Schnee… and the two of you are friends?"

Blake smiled timidly. "Like Yang said, the process was somewhat random… but it's true," she affirmed, and her eyes shown somehow with conviction. "She's actually a very good person, and I'm proud to be her friend, especially after all we've been through."

Ghira blew out another terse breathe. He loved his daughter dearly, but that wouldn't erase years and years of staunch prejudice against the family that was Public Enemy Number One for the faunus. "Continuing on. You completed a semester. You -your team- was involved in the incident known as The Breach?"

Again, Yang and Blake nodded.

"Shortly after, you were on another training assignment, when you -Yang- saw a portal appear. Since you have been searching for your mother, and you knew she had the ability to create similar portals, you jumped in."

Yang had the good grace to blush, embarrassed. She scratched the scalp of her luscious blonde mane. "Er, not my brightest moment, I'll admit."

"You found yourself transported to another world," Ghira continued, his heart accelerating again. "A world unlike ours, where there are no Grimm, no faunus, no Huntsmen, no Aura, a technology similar and yet nothing like ours, a means to leave their planet, and where the people were waging a desperate war against complete annihilation at the hands of a massive alien force that had laid siege to their planet."

"Er, mostly right," Yang added in, fairly chipper. "Like we said, we found out before long that our Aura wasn't gone, it was suppressed. Bad enough, but we overcame it eventually. The Doc had come up with one-shot Aura modules at the time. Better than nothing, but damn did they sting when you needed a hit."

"The Doctor," Ghira said, rattling his brain to remember it all. "Dr. Vahlen. We'll return to that in a moment. So you managed to convince them to let you join in their fight. You did so for several reasons, including the simple practicality that you did not have the means to return, and your only chance to return was if the defenders, XCOM, proved victorious."

"Yang was right, though," Blake gently said. "They were a people in trouble. How could we turn our backs on them?"

Kali gave them a bittersweet smile. "While I am terrified of what could have happened, and I'll admit it, I'm proud of both of you."

Ghira had to force himself to exhale. "No matter what, your mother is right. It's what Huntsmen should do. And as that is the path you chose for yourself, Blake, you did the right thing."

"Thanks, dad," Blake murmured so softly and with her shoulders hunched tightly, he could have sworn he had imagined it. The hopeful smile in his daughter's eyes told him all he needed to know.

"So continuing on," Ghira said, "you had to start almost from scratch. The commander of XCOM, Bradford, assigned you to a combat unit, Strike Eight. He assigned your sister, Ruby, as the leader, along with a Major Xander Vance as your veteran combat advisor."

The way both Blake and Yang suddenly returned such muted, brokenhearted smiles when he mentioned the name of Xander Vance hinted far more than the two women could have explained in a minute. "We wouldn't be alive without him." Yang quietly said.

"You went on several missions," Ghira continued. "You grew ties with the people there, especially their leaders. An incident on this… Earth encouraged you to step forward with your faunus nature, and in turn they embraced you as an equal, just as you are."

"It was... amazing, dad," Blake said, awe in her voice as she recalled the memory of when she first revealed her true self to XCOM, "But please continue. I know it's a lot."

"Your squad grew. Each of you were promoted to different degrees. Your team was entrusted with a reconnaissance mission to an island village that had lost all contact. There you encountered…"

"Chrysalids," Blake said with a quivering voice. Ghira noticed how tightly she had to swallow. "Creatures of nightmares, not like the Grimm, not as strong as the Grimm, but in many ways worse. They impale you, then…" She trailed off and shook her head.

"Mom, I love you, and I respect your need to know what happened, but… there are some things you don't need to know." Ghira noticed how quickly and easily Yang took Blake's hand as her voice started to quiver, and how readily Blake received the touch.

"The creatures had made a nest there," he managed to say in an effort to move on from what was clearly one of Blake's worst memories. His tongue felt like sandpaper "Like the Lancers, but worse. You set a transponder for an aerial bombardment. The creatures detected you anyway. You were swarmed. You ran for your transport. The newest member of your team laid down his life so you could escape."

"Bolts," Yang whispered reverently.

"And then before you could reach the transport itself, one of these…" He couldn't say it.

"Burst out of corpse of a shark, purposely impaled me through both arms and both legs, and then… impaled me through the stomach," Blake managed to finish for him. She was shivering by this time, her eyes starting to unfocus, Yang's hand firmly on her shoulder. "I had blanked it out at the time, but I can remember it now. Leaning down, its eyes gazing into my soul as it parted its jaws to… o-oh fuck..." She clung to Yang like a lifeline.

Ghira wanted to speak up, to say anything. The shock and the image in his head fettered his mind with the fear of what he almost lost. The image was so brutal, he couldn't speak. Even Kali was silent. She clutched his hands much like Blake was clinging on to Yang.

When Blake's quivering subsided, it was Yang who spoke up. She kept direct contact as she said, "Just trust me when I say you don't want to know all the details. Blake nearly died. We did everything we could to keep her alive. And Vance? He stayed behind just to buy us the time to get out of there." Even though Ghira didn't know this Yang well, he couldn't help but feel pity at the depth of sadness and regret in her eyes. She was a combat veteran now, he could tell.

Yang took a deep breath, then rubbed his daughter's back as she continued. 'Weiss had to hold Ruby down. We used every medkit to keep Blake stable. And when got back, we were all desperate as to why her Aura wasn't working. Turns out, it was the only thing keeping her alive long enough to make it to the Docs table, since it was working overtime to fight back against the monster's poison."

"So let me understand." He said, looking from Blake to Yang, "The only way to prevent your death… was to cut your limbs off?"

Blake hesitated, then nodded. "Unfortunately. The poison flowing through my bloodstream was putting a huge strain on both my body and my weakened Aura. By removing the… ah… extremities, all of the healing efforts could be focused on my vitals.."

"Ruby made the call," Yang told them, stone faced. "She still blames herself,"

"She made the right call," Blake somberly insisted. "I know I was bitter about it for a long time, and I'll admit I wish I had my original arms and legs, but Ruby did the right thing. She gave me a fighting chance to have a life again."

Right. Blake's huntress leader. How old was she again?

"That seems like a pretty huge responsibility for someone so young…"

"If there's one thing I learned from our experience, it's that war is really good at aging you." Yang commented, "If my sister had to make that choice three months earlier, there's no way she could have done what she did."

Ghira couldn't stand it any longer. He kept his composure, but the constant discrepancies of time gnawed at his skull. "You keep saying months," he told her. Ghira noticed Kali's eyes were as wide with confusion as his were. "I agree that every detail should be put into its proper place, but none of that makes sense. How can you still refer to months of time when it's only been two months since the Battle of Beacon?"

"Actually, now's a good time to tell you," Yang delicately offered. "After the surgeries, after everything, the whole team was in a bad state. Ruby's mental state was the worst without a doubt, but we were all in a downward spiral. Bradford gave us time, but after a month he realized he needed to do something drastic."

"By this time, XCOM had figured out a way to send text messages to Remnant," Blake said. She picked up Yang's explanation. Her voice still a little shaky, but regained most of her composure. "The portal was only one-way at the time, but they could open it. They didn't tell us, but they contacted team JNPR and told them how to find the portal to Earth."

"They came anyway,"Ghira said, his voice touched with quiet awe. "Those are some true friends."

"Yeah, they are," Yang admitted while she awkwardly brushed her hair again. Ghira suspected Yang and Blake had left out something, but there was far too much to take in to question now. "And that's when we get to the next level of weirdness. We started to tell them about everything that happened over the last few months, and they tell us it's only been a week."

"...What?!" Ghira blurted out in near tandem with Kali.

"Time is a funny thing when dealing with space-time portals, apparently." Blake nervously said. "It took us a while, but before long we confirmed it. There's a twelve-to-one time dilation between Earth and Remnant, at least at the time. So… to you, we were gone less than a month, but for us…" Blake paused to swallow. "It's been a year."

Ghira blinked, trying to process this. He shifted his gaze back and forth between Blake and Yang, hoping to see them crack under his scrutiny, but he was confronted with blank-faced earnesty.

"So Blake," Kali spoke up in a voice full of apprehension. "Your birthday is in the next few months. It will be …"

"My nineteenth birthday," Blake whispered. In the span of seconds, guilt bloomed all over her face. "Mom… I'm sorry."

Kali rose, immediately crossed the few steps over to Blake, and swept her up into another deep hug. "It doesn't matter," Kali insisted. "You're home now, and we're going to deal with it all one step at a time."

"I think… I think we'll continue on with the rest of your story tomorrow when we can process what we've already learned," Ghira managed. He could tell his eyes were glassy. "The horrors you've suffered…"

Blake held her cybernetic hand up to her face, played with the digits, and Ghira watched at how seamless, how natural the action looked. The tech could easily give Atlas a run for its money.

"A lot of awful stuff happened on Earth, but I don't think any of us would disagree that we're better people for it." Blake maintained even eye contact with her father as she sipped her tea and said, "And it's all thanks to XCOM."

Ghira could see this part of the conversation coming ever since XCOM entered into Blake's story. He suppressed a sigh and asked the question he already knew the answer to. "About XCOM. So this Cinder's claim about how XCOM is a terrorist organization bent on destabilizing Remnant…?"

"Complete horseshit." Yang answered, glowering "Pyrrha Nikos, a friend who fought shoulder-to-shoulder with us on Earth and on Remnant before that, is paralyzed because that lying bitch didn't want her to broadcast a message of hope and assurance to everyone listening on the CCTS."

"She's playing the world for a fool, and people are desperate to believe her." Blake added, "Though, can you really blame them? The kingdoms just suffered their worst catastrophe in years, and she comes promising not only safety, but retribution against those she claims are at fault. Even if I were skeptical, I'd be keeping a a hopeful ear open just in case she turned out to be genuine."

And in less than a minute, Ghira's plan to help convince Sienna to throw the White Fang's support in with Cinder evaporated. And if the two girls still had more surprises to drop on him? Suddenly, the beer in his hand seemed insufficient as an aid for all the new information Ghira would be processing today. Maybe Kali could make him one of her cocktails…

He looked over at his wife, and while her expression was one of discomfort at the prospect of Cinder's nefarious plans, her eyes held a look of determination. It was a look that never failed to inspire Ghira and convince him that he really could do all the things that the faunus needed him to do.

"If there's one thing you have to give her, it's that she is quite charismatic." Kali said as she poured herself another cup of tea, "She's confident, attractive, and she is able to put action behind her words, regardless of whether those actions are genuine or orchestrated."

"So what do we do?" Ghira asked. He resigned himself to the fact that his daughter's information warranted a sharp change in his plans, and step one of his old leadership strategy had always been to poll the room for suggestions and insight before offering suggestions of his own. That seemed especially apt in this case, given that his guests apparently knew far more about the current geopolitical environment than he realized.

"Might as well start with the obvious." Yang said, "XCOM needs allies if we're going to push back against Cinder. She's apparently building this 'Advent' group, and I don't doubt that recruitment is out the door and around the block. We've sent some of our guys to Atlas, Mistral, and Vacuo, but they're probably outmatched in terms of resources and manpower compared to Cinder's goons."

Blake's ears drooped slightly as she looked at her parents, "I, uh… suggested to XCOM that you might be able to help with that."

Ghira's knee-jerk reaction was a pang of hurt in his chest when he realized that Blake had an ulterior motive in choosing to come home. The feeling left as quickly as it came, however, when he realized that of course she did, considering how crazy her life has been over the past year. And besides…

"It doesn't matter why you came home, Blake." Kali said, voicing both of their thoughts. It wasn't hard to pick up on Blake's embarrassment from her tone and posture, and Ghira would be damned if he let his daughter's first experience back home be a painful one.

Time to put his daughter's mind at ease. "We'll do everything we can to help. As the chieftain of Menagerie, my word does carry a significant amount of weight that could be used to help XCOM, but we must not be overt about it. Cinder is crafty, from what we've seen so far. If she catches on quickly that we're backing the other horse, I'm certain she'll throw a lot of resources towards discrediting us and coercing us into giving her our public support."

Kali stood up and started to pace behind the couch, the quiet tap tap tap of her feet on the floor helping Ghira focus as his mind started to almost savor the prospect of the challenge ahead of him. Sure, Menagerie came with its own set of difficulties and hurdles, but it didn't quite succeed like the White Fang did in scratching that itch. Fighting back against a global conspiracy? Yeah, that should do it.

And the fact that it was for a cause championed by Blake made the prospect all the more enticing.

"We should start by questioning whether XCOM is truly evil." Kali said, "Cinder is trying to put on a show of encouraging the people to seek the truth for themselves, and while it's likely she's got plans for making sure they come to the… 'appropriate' conclusion, that gives us an opportunity to openly question her stance on XCOM without coming across as staunch opposition to her cause."

"Meanwhile, there's several people we trust within the local government and White Fang organisations," Ghira added, "It would be risky to try and convince a lot of people quickly that XCOM is right and Cinder is wrong, but starting with a few should be a safe move."

"What about Sienna?" Blake asked, "If we're able to win over the head of the White Fang…"

"Doubtful." Kali answered from behind the couch, "She's a firebrand, as I'm sure you're well aware. Cinder's personality and message of justice aligns very well with Sienna's goals, especially when someone like Adam Taurus has her ear. Unless XCOM is able to fight back with similar bravado…"

"That's not Bradford's style, even if we had the resources to pull it off." Yang said. The nervous glance she traded with Blake didn't escape Ghira's notice, "Besides, there's uh… something you should know. About Adam."

Ghira raised an eyebrow as a million scenarios raced through his mind as to what that comment could possibly mean. He didn't like any of them. "Do I need to kill him for you, Blake?"

"That… won't be necessary." Blake answered with a sigh, "I took care of that myself"

"... What."

"Prick was working with whoever launched the attack on the Vytal Festival. He sabotaged XCOM's communications, killed an operative in the process, and tried to kill me when Blake and I were dispatched to investigate." Yang said. Her eyes flickered from lilac to red, and Ghira could faintly hear her heartbeat as it pounded harder and faster in her chest.

Blake, however, just looked sad. She gently squeezed Yang's hand, and the red eyes quietly cooled back to lilac. "Even with his dying breath, he refused to see reason. I told him that his actions, his choices, would undo all the hard work you did for the Faunus, and the only response he could muster was, 'Fuck you.' I'm not sorry he's dead."

The room fell silent. Although Blake's news had turned the mood somber, Ghira couldn't help but admit to himself that he felt relieved. He always had to acknowledge Taurus with a modicum of respect around Sienna, given her public approval of who she often called 'The White Fang's Rising Star,' but Ghira always hated how Adam sought violence before diplomacy. He was an angry soul that revelled in the bloodshed, but Sienna always turned a blind eye to the ugly truth. After all, Adam produced results, and the Khan always liked results.

With Adam out of the picture? Perhaps steering the White Fang towards XCOM wouldn't be so difficult after all.

Kali broke the silence, and broke Ghira out of his thoughts. "For what it's worth, Blake, I'm proud of you. That couldn't have been easy, physically or mentally."

Those eyes, those beautiful eyes on Blake, lit up at Kali's words. The dour mood in the room started to evaporate, and Ghira tried to keep the momentum going by bringing the conversation back to planning their next move.

"Alright, so what do we have to work with? I'm guessing Bradford will be coming by to reconnect with you two, and we'll want to have some groundwork laid out by then."

"We came with two other operatives." Yang explained, "They're out exploring the port right now, but they won't have any trouble blending in. They've both been gene-modded, so they can pass off as cat faunus without anyone batting an eye."

"Gene… modded?" Kali asked.

"Later." Blake said, "But they're here to help us figure out how XCOM can get a leg up on Cinder's forces in Menagerie. I think while Dad is working the White Fang angle, the four of us can hit the street and try to discreetly find sympathetic ears while trying to spread good will for XCOM."

"Or we could try to help solve minor issues plaguing Menagerie." Yang suggested, turning to Ghira and Kali, "While XCOM's Covert Operatives specialize in recon and sabotage, that's not all they're good at. If you can think of any problems that we can set the boys on, I'm sure they'll make the most of the opportunity."

Ghira nodded in agreement. He knew of quite a few problems plaguing Menagerie, many of them too minor to merit a coordinated effort from the local militia. Some were Grimm-related that required martial prowess, and Ghira figured that a pair of operatives probably couldn't solve them independently (although a pair of operatives and a pair of huntresses…). Others were more social in nature, and gathering intel to determine the best way to defuse the problem with a light touch might be more practical.

"For starters, there's some local hooligans that have been causing disturbances every now and then." Ghira mused, "Perhaps if your guys are as good as you claim, they might be able to solve the issue and earn some recruits in the process."

"I'll let them know." Blake said

Kali resumed pacing again, and Ghira looked over to see his wife's eyes furrowed and her chin pinched between her fingers. "What about ADVENT? We should try to figure what kind of presence they have on Menagerie, and see if there's a way to keep track of what they're up to." She stopped pacing long enough to fix herself another cup of tea while continuing, "I know your resources are probably limited, since you've described your operation as 'covert,' but I think this is one of the more important goals we should consider."

"Don't want to be blindsided by those guys." Yang agreed, "Yeah, maybe we can have one of our buddies start investigating the rowdy kids while the other looks into digging up dirt on what ADVENT is doing."

Ghira downed the last of his beer and stood up with a contented sigh, "It sounds like we've got a good start to our gameplan. There isn't much we can do for now, so why don't you two stay a little longer for dinner? We also have a pair of guest bedrooms you can use if you need to rest."

Kali sucked in her breath and gave Ghira a sympathetic look, "Mmmmm, we actually don't have as many available rooms as you think, dear."

"What do you mean?" Ghira asked, incredulous, "We've got the one adjacent to the backyard-"

"Full of boxes from the last social. I never put the gifts away."

"The one on the second floor by the hanging gardens-"

"I'm in the middle of repainting it."

"The little cabana we have separate from the main house-"

"Absolutely not. I haven't cleaned that out in weeks."

"The one under the first floor-"

"I don't like the arrangement of furnishings."

"Kali." Ghira sighed, "These are all minor issues that don't make the rooms unusable. Given that the girls lived on a military base for almost a year, I'm sure that they'll be more than happy with any of our rooms. Surely you're not suggesting they find somewhere to stay in town?"

Kali looked aghast. "Of course not! I fully intend for them to stay here, how could you think otherwise?"

"But-"

"There's a perfectly good guest room we have just across from the foyer that they can use."

"... Room?"

"Is there a problem, dear?"

Ghira felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle under his wife's glare. "... No."

"Good." Kali said before turning to an amused Yang and a slightly mortified Blake, "You two settle in and rest for a bit while I prepare dinner. I hope you're hungry from your journey, because I'm planning on making a meal worthy of this occasion. Come along dear."

As Kali pulled a dazed Ghira out of the room, he could hear Yang whisper to Blake, "I really like her."

Pain was the first thing she noticed that made her realize her consciousness had returned once more to the land of the living. She couldn't see anything, and she couldn't move her limbs (understandably so), but she was breathing, and she could hear her own thoughts, so that was a good start.

Quiet hisses washed over her senses, which was probably something to do with the machinery doing its thing. Suspended in some kind of fluid, but still secured loosely to a table backing, she wondered what the doctor was doing to her. Would she regret agreeing to this? Would it change her life forever? She didn't know. Considering the technology involved, anything was possible.

She listened to her steady breathing through the mask apparatus strapped to her face as she idly wondered if she was even supposed to be awake. Maybe the operation was finished, and she could be out of here soon? It wasn't uncomfortable in the chamber, exactly, but the sooner she could see a familiar face, the better. The hissing grew a little louder, and she heard several pops that she hoped represented some of the equipment disconnecting in an expected manner. Sure enough, she felt the liquid in the chamber flow across her face, which probably meant that whoever was operating this thing had started to drain the tank. Through the new noise, she was able to make out someone humming.

Seriously? At a time like this?

The draining process seemed to drag on forever, and she wondered if the next step of the discharge process would be equally boring. Whatever. Not much else to do but wait.

Sure enough, the next step seemed to be converting the suspension chamber back into a prone operating table, and the equipment moved at a painfully slow pace. First was the tightening of the braces holding her to the table, then the steady (and annoying) whine of the gears and motors as they slowly rotated the whole contraption ninety degrees until she was laying flat on her back. When the top of the tank popped open and bright lights started to claw their way into the pitch-black container, though, she suddenly wished that the process had gone on for a few minutes longer.

Whoever had been humming stopped when the tank started to open, and the room remained eerily silent while the room's lighting continued to shine down painfully. Eventually, the room started coming into (blurry) view just as the whine of the machinery came to a stop. She looked around to see several faces standing slightly back from the table while one figure in a lab coat was working at a station next to her and glancing at the table every so often.

She tried to speak, failed as the words came out in a raspy croak, and tried again.

"Did it… work?" She whispered.

The lab coat figure nodded (maybe?) before a pleasantly feminine voice filled the room.

"It was a preliminary surgery, but I would say yes, yes it did. Welcome back, miss Nikos."

A/N: So I'd like to talk about Tales From The Avenger for a moment. It's something I'm excited about for two reasons. Firstly, it's something I can post between Remnant Unknown updates to help ease the pain of the content drought (kinda weird thinking about how I used to pump out a chapter every week when I was writing RWBY Within... like, dang).

Second, and more importantly, I think it's a golden opportunity to really flesh out some of the minor details that really add some character to the story. There are a lot of things I'd love to dig into, but we'd probably still be stuck on Patch if I tried to fit them into Remnant Unknown. I think Tales From is a great solution that will let me keep Remnant Unknown relatively streamlined without sacrificing exposition. Little details like insight into Weiss's time in the medical tent helping the wounded after the Battle of Vale, or some casual interactions between XCOM and the Reapers in Mountain Glenn. These are some examples of the kind of thing that I think are perfect for one-shot chapters in Tales From.

So if you have any inclination to try your hand at writing something up for Tales From The Avenger, we would love to have you over at the Discord server to talk about your ideas and help turn them into a solid contribution to REMCOM's story.

Cheers.