SEVERAL MONTHS EARLIER

"Isra! You there?"

Isra looked out the window to his room, only to be greeted with Basil's grinning face.

"What's up? Got a job or something that needs my help?"

Basil shrugged, reaching under the window for the latch and opening it as wide as he could. "It doesn't need your help, but damned if it wouldn't make for an easier time. You loaded?"

"What, with a Semblance? My dad let me borrow his for a few things, but it's basically dead right now. Give me five minutes and I'll have it loaded up, though."

"He's the one with the electricity one, right?"

Isra rolled his eyes at the casual manner Basil referred to his father's Semblance. "It's electrosensitivity."

"Big word. 'The electricity one' works just as well."

Isra shook his head at his friend's wilful ignorance. "Whatever works for you, Basil. I'll be out in five." He slid the window back down to its normal height before slipping out of his room. Alright, before I leave, checklist: Semblance, check. Or soon to be check at least. Clothes? Yeah, I'm not exactly wearing anything that'll stand out. Check. Scroll? He fished around in his pocket for the device. Check. He tapped a button on the side and felt it vibrate in response. Silent. Good.

He slowed as he approached the door to his parents' bedroom, carefully watching where he put his steps. His foot spent a brief moment near-hovering over each floorboard he planned to step on, testing them with a fraction of his weight before he put his foot firmly down. The door was treated with equal caution, his arms making practiced adjustments to how much weight the door's hinges were supporting to minimise the noise.

When he had the door opened just far enough for him to slide in, he carefully looked over the room, making certain his parents were both asleep before he made any moves. He carefully moved along the floorboards again, stopping himself when he reached the side of the bed his father occupied. Alright, here we go.

He rubbed his hands together, hoping to dispel some of the night's chill through friction before placing one on his father's head. He closed his eyes and focused on the slight tingle at the edge of his senses - his father's Aura. Now, bring that in line with me.

He began to embrace the tingling, allowing it to flow over into his hand and spread throughout his body. Yes, that's how it goes. Just don't move and you'll be out before you know it.

The tingling began to subside, starting with his hand and following the same path it took as it spread. Isra allowed a brief smile to cross his lips as the tingling vanished, feeling for the new sensation in his mind - his father's Semblance, or whatever his own Aura could impersonate. Where are you… I didn't do this for nothing, where's that- There. Let's give you a trial run.

Isra took his hand away from his father's head, freezing in place as his father rolled in his sleep. Son of a- please tell me that was just restlessness. A lack of response from his father caused him to relax slightly, a long exhale passing his lips. Oh thank Dust. That would have been bad.

He felt around in his mind for the trigger to his father's Semblance, smiling as he found it and activated it. Almost immediately, his view was filled with faint electric-blue lines - the tell-tale sign of wiring in the walls and floor. A faint blue blob just outside the church indicated the van parked outside, with the few vaguely human-shaped collections of lines giving him an idea of how many people were inside. Two. So he's bringing Eminence along as well. He switched off his father's Semblance and watched the lines fade into the darkness. Good. That's all in order. Let's see how much of it I've lost by the time it's needed.

He exited the bedroom with the same care and precision with which he entered, swinging the door back to the same level of openness he found it in before stalking down the hall back to his room, making sure to step only where he did coming in.

As he reached his room, he heard the sounds of someone shuffling around inside. He shook his head and slipped in, shutting the door behind him. "Basil. What. Is. Wrong with you? You know the church is off-limits for your little 'investigations'."

Basil smiled at Isra, placing a small pad back on Isra's desk. "Lighten up, Isra. Just seeing what you've gotten up to in my absence."

"Get. Out. My room. My things. You have no reason to be in here."

Basil lifted himself back out of the window he climbed in through, continuing the conversation from outside. "We don't have any reason to be raiding a Dust store tonight, but here we are."

Isra paused a moment, considering Basil's words, before finally nodding. "You're right. We don't have any reason to raid a Dust store. Outside of 'it's doing a roaring trade and we're just redistributing the wealth'." And I want to get out of the Order. But that's not something you need to know.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, man." Basil shrugged, offering a hand to help Isra through the window. "Far as I can tell, it's still crime. We just aren't engaged in destructive crime."

Isra snorted at Basil's classification of crimes as he took the proffered hand. "So, remind me, what is 'destructive' crime as opposed to 'constructive' crime?"

"Constructive crime, my church-going friend, is crime that ultimately has a net benefit on society. Theft, robbery, blackmail, breaking and entering - the crimes that don't involve directly hurting people. Destructive crime, on the other hand, is all the stuff that does involve hurting people. Murder, manslaughter, battery, all the messy stuff. Things that kill people and don't really contribute anything towards society's development."

Isra dropped down onto the grass outside, dusting himself off as he replied. "Uh-huh. So we're less evil than people who practice 'destructive' crime?"

"Sort of." Basil dropped down next to him and started walking towards the van with Isra in tow. "I mean, we're still criminals, so we're not exactly paragons of virtue by society's standards, but we're not going around shooting people or blowing things up like the White Fang or those types. We're just breaking into shops, cleaning out what isn't alarmed or locked up and vanishing with as little trace as possible. Insurance company gets a workout, police forensics get a workout, shop owner gets a workout wondering how the hell somebody broke in and stole what we did without leaving much of a trace, and we get a workout lifting the stuff out."

Isra nodded at Basil's explanation. At least he's honest about himself. "Nice speech, Basil. Opens my eyes to your unique worldview. But, to more pressing matters. Dust shops are open pretty much twenty-four-seven. How are we going to handle the person running the counter?"

"I don't know. You're the one with the functional magic-"

"Semblance."

Basil sneered jestingly at the correction. "Functional magic, you figure it out. You say you can see somebody's nervous system or whatever with that thing, so just shock them or something."

Isra nodded warily at Basil's plan. "We've got Cam and Eminence here, why not use them?"

"Firstly, she likes to be called 'Em'. Secondly, she's a Faunus. She's got better hearing than either of us do, so she's on safe-cracking duty. Thirdly, when was the last time you saw Cam punch out a guy to help us on a job?"

"I'll remember the first point. Don't expect me to oblige it if she's not around though. The second point… that makes sense. Still, why can't she just threaten him into submission then leave me to handle clean-up? And the third, I'd say whenever our pay last went south."

Basil grinned at Isra's defense for Cam. "I'll concede that, but that's also the point where he's got a vested interest. If he didn't have to get paid, I reckon he wouldn't even step in when things go wrong. As for why Em doesn't just threaten the guy into submission, tell me when you last saw her stop at threatening a guy."

"I've never seen her threaten somebody. I've barely seen her outside of the jobs, actually."

"Take it from me, as I've been living with her for a couple of months now: She doesn't stop at threats. If she has to threaten you, it will take every fiber of her being to not take a finger or something in punishment. There's a reason why I answer the door all the time now; door-to-door salesmen have a tendency to call the police if an angry wolf-Faunus decides to take a souvenir that isn't their product."

"Sounds like a story."

Basil shook his head as he opened the van's side door, letting Isra board first. "No, there really isn't. Em doesn't like door-to-door salesmen and they don't quite realise ignoring the third 'we're not interested, please go away' and putting their foot in the door is a huge mistake."

Em looked up from her place in the van at the door's opening and the discussion. "Telling Isra about door-to-door salesmen, Basil?"

"Just proving why Isra's the only one I can rely on to control the cashier."

"You can do the job just as easily, Basil. If Isra's having second thoughts about telling somebody not to move, let him do your job."

Basil scoffed at the idea as he climbed in the van. "Let him do on-the-job valuation? He probably can't even tell the difference between weapons-grade and jewellery-grade Dust!"

"Neither could you until an hour ago."

Isra looked between the two, confusion evident in his eyes. "Wait, what? There's different grades of Dust?"

Basil shut the door and waved for Cam to start driving. "Yep. Three main kinds: Utility-grade, weapons-grade and jewellery-grade. Utility-grade gets put in everything, just in varying proportions. Also the primary component in Dust cells. Weapons-grade is the kind of Dust those fancy Huntsmen bullets are made out of, hence the name. Incredibly volatile, liable to go off if anyone with Aura touches them wrong. Non-Aura-wielding individuals like myself need to use an explosion to trigger the stuff.

Finally, jewellery-grade Dust is exactly that. High-quality Dust, almost free of impurities and good for putting into bracelets and the like. Run a charge through it and it glows real pretty. We want the last two types. Utility-grade, like I said, is everywhere. People don't care for that stuff. Weapons-grade gets you a real tidy price, but jewellery-grade gets you all the socialites who think they're getting it cheaper from the fence."

Isra nodded as Basil explained, discussing the finer points of the job as the van navigated through the criss-cross of streets to their destination.

"So, the weapons-grade stuff is going to be behind-the-counter, while the jewellery-grade is going to be in a safe somewhere."

"Not quite, Isra. The pulverised weapons-grade Dust will be in dispensers along one of the walls - all the easier for a Huntsman to get at it in a pinch. The crystalline weapons-grade will be behind the counter. Crystals are nice, but the actual Dust is where it's at, price-wise. You need to break down a crystal to use it and not a lot of groups have the machinery needed for that. However, load a handful of Dust into a tin can and suddenly you've got a grenade waiting for a fuse."

Isra looked at Basil in exasperation. "So you sponsor terrorism?"

Basil returned the look, but for different reasons. "No, Isra, I don't. But it's not like I can control who the fence sells to, can I? I'm just looking at this from the most practic-" Basil cut himself off as a song began to play through the van's radio; a futile attempt by Cam at silencing the impending argument in the back. "Cam, shut that crap off. If I want to hear Weiss bloody Schnee wax morose about how hard-done-by she is, I'll find something where she's not singing about it."

Cam shrugged, disregarding Basil's request. "It's a good song. If you want to change it, come up and do so."

Basil sized up the near-silent driver and what his range of motion would be while he was driving. "I'll pass, actually."

"Yeah, messing with a six-foot-six muscle-bound guy in a suit probably wouldn't be the smartest idea, Basil."

"Shut up, Isra. Like you would've stood any more of a chance."

Isra laughed off the remark. "I wouldn't be dumb enough to tell Cam to turn 'Mirror, Mirror', or, as you so affectionately call it, 'that crap', off. Everyone's got their taste in music, and Cam's taste is more valid than yours because he can put you in a coma. Also, he doesn't call your music 'crap'."

"Might makes right, huh?"

"Works for the Grimm, works for the Cerulans, works for me."

Basil raised an eyebrow at Isra's admission. "And here I thought you didn't think the Cerulans were that hot. You're saying they did something right?"

"They do plenty right, Basil. One of those things being 'do not mess with those humans slash Faunus that can beat you handily'. Save your strength for Grimm and all that."

"Right. Don't they have a commandment about stealing?"

"Not precisely. They tell you to 'not inconvenience your fellows through wilful deprivation', but I think the merchant is more guilty than I am in that regard. Therefore, I'm in the right by stealing."

Em, who'd resigned herself to staring out the window when Isra and Basil had begun to discuss the technicalities in earnest, cut in at this statement. "Oh, really? Sounds like something I might want to get in on. But you might want to bring this discussion to a close. Cam's doing his first drive-by now, if the scenery's anything to go by."

The three passengers all made their final preparations, making sure they were fully prepared for their impending heist. Isra tested his borrowed Semblance again, watching as the wires and cables in the shop's walls lit up in his vision, as did several figures in a nearby alley.

"Hey, are there any dealers or anything that hang out around here?"

"Isra, you're asking the wrong people. Cam's fairly straight-edge, as far as I've seen, and me and Em don't exactly partake of those kinds of things. Why?"

"Five or six guys hanging out near the store. They don't exactly look like they're admiring a dumpster, so I'm guessing something's up."

Basil glanced out the window, searching for the people Isra mentioned, only to find nothing. "Probably just seeing things, Isra. I don't see anyone. Save your magic for taking down the counter jockey and knocking out the alarms." He turned to question the other member of their three-man band.

"Em, did you see anyone out there?"

"Just the guy in the shop. Isra's right, though. Something's not right here."

Basil raised an eyebrow at her agreement. "What's up?"

"Where do I start? The smell is off, it's too quiet, there's no life here, need I go on?"

"You could start with how that makes sense to humans."

Em sighed, searching for the words to describe what she was experiencing. "Basil, I'll try and sum it up as easily as I can. The smell of Vale's streets is normally a little seedy. With actual seeds. Depending on how far from Industrial we are, there might be a hint of steel in the air. We're in the middle of Commercial. Place should reek of the rich and the poor souls they prey on. None of that here. Next: the silence. Seems normal to you, because you don't stop and listen much. But if you did, you'd realise just how strange it is for it to be so quiet now.

Normally, you hear dogs barking, the occasional car, maybe an arguing couple or two. Of course, that's all in Residential. In Commercial, you might hear a phone call for an office drone working later than expected; a van doing late-night couriering between different business campuses; the sounds of an economic heart that literally cannot afford to stop beating.

Last: the lack of life. Even though this is Commercial - the business sector - the place still needs a little life in it. That office drone from earlier. The occasional reveller, drawn in by wrong turns. Maybe just an angry drunk or somebody blathering in the alleyway. Anything to tell you that people live here. As it stands, the place is uncomfortably devoid of life. Does that quite get across what I'm trying to say?"

Basil's eyes traced along the ceiling of the van as he processed Em's justifications. "Yeah, it sorta does. But it's the kind of things we wouldn't have noticed anyway. I think we'll be fine."

"Isra noticed." Em directed an inquisitive eye towards him. "How did you notice, anyway?"

Isra chuckled, trying to force his father's Semblance to manifest as noticeably as possible. "My father's Semblance."

Em cocked an eyebrow at the explanation. "Semblance? Like, Huntsmen sort-of-magic Semblance?"

"The same. I can borrow Semblances from people who have one activated. Downsides are that my imitation only lasts four hours and it becomes less and less potent as those hours go on. As long as I don't let go of the person I'm borrowing from, though, I've got it at original strength for as long as I want."

"That's fascinating. Could've done with somebody like you back at my last job. But that still doesn't answer my question."

Isra smiled, placing one hand on Em's and activating his Semblance. If this is anything like what my father did with me, she should get the carry-over. "See now?"

He looked over at Em when he didn't hear a response, only to see her eyes wide and nervous. He took his hand off her and watched as her focus returned to the world around her. She immediately shot Isra a dark look, concerned that he may have injured her.

"What. Was. That."

"My father's Semblance. 'Electrosensitivity'. Did you see a lot of blue lines?"

"Yeah..."

Isra let out a thankful breath. Awesome. That went to plan. "Those lines are electrical currents. If you saw those lines on people, that's their nervous system. That's how come I can see people in pitch darkness. Is your question answered?"

Em looked warily at Isra, edging slightly away from him. "Yes. It is. Are we done?"

Cam pulled the van up to the sidewalk, several car lengths from the shop. "Yep. Shop's just ahead of us. Seeing as Em and Isra are both saying something's up, I'm giving you guys a timer. Ten minutes, in and out. Once those ten minutes are up, I'm leaving. Anyone not in the van can find their own way back."

Basil scowled at Cam, unimpressed by the driver's declaration. "Right. Isra, Em, with me, now. Cam's giving us ten minutes, we shouldn't waste them."

The three nodded, disembarking the van quickly, wasting no time in their walk towards the shop. Basil strode up and took the lead, pulling his hood up over his head. "Remember the drill, guys. Em, with me straight away to find the safe. Isra, monitor the cashier and make sure he doesn't go for any alarms. Will your Semblance let you fry the circuits, or…?"

Isra looked down at his hands, trying to force the rush of electricity to flow into them that could disable most electronics, only to feel it fizzle out just beneath his skin. "Nope. No circuit-frying tonight. We took too long for that to be kept up. Down to the basics now. Circuit tracking, with some identification of people."

Basil sighed, adjusting the plan in his head. "Alright, so we can't be loud and rowdy. You think you can tell us what displays are alarmed?"

"As long as there are cables running off it, yes. Otherwise, no."

"Okay… This'll be a tricky one. I was hoping you could keep it together for a little longer than you have, Isra, but I'll work with this."

Isra raised his hands in partial apology. "Sorry man. If I could control how long my Semblance kept things, I'd be making it last as long as I could."

"You don't have a lot to apologise for, Is. I recall that traffic wasn't exactly working with us in Residential. I blame Vale's commut-" Basil was cut off by the sound of a window shattering ahead of them, a figure flying through it and landing in the middle of the street. "What the hell?"

The trio stopped in their tracks, trying to make sense of what they just saw. Isra was first to recover as he saw somebody rise from the street - a small girl, garbed in a red cloak and unfolding a scythe considerably bigger than she was.

"Basil, Em, I don't think this is something we want in on. Let's get back to Cam." He looked at the two and found them still transfixed by the events unfolding in front of them. "Guys. Guys!"

He grabbed them both and began to lead them back to the van, keeping an eye on the chaos he was leading them away from. So, Scythe-Girl's kicking the hell out of… I'd say seven guys. Let's not stick around to- His train of thought was interrupted as one of the men fighting the red-cloaked girl bounced off the hood of a car next to him, reinforcing the need for him to get somewhere away from there.

Fortunately, his flight to the van was met with no further interruptions, allowing him to load Basil and Em aboard without incident. As he stepped in, though, he felt a cold thud echo through him from his side. Cautiously, he reached down to where he felt the impact and raised his hand in front of his face. "Cam, can you get the lights in the back here?"

A few moments passed, with Isra trying to decipher what mystery fluid coated his fingers before the lights switched on. As they did, illuminating the back of the van, Isra's hand was shown to be covered in a deep red. Oh. Oh, damn.

"Isra, you alright?"

"Isra?"

The voices grew indistinct as he focused more on the blood oozing from his side, trying to keep himself calm to stop any more flowing out. Level breathing. Steady heart-beat. Ignore the fact you just got shot. Inhale, exhale, repeat. Inhale, exhale, repeat. Inhale… His eyes fluttered as he tried to maintain consciousness - a battle he was losing decisively.

"Isra, don't you dare pass out on me!" A harsh slap brought Isra back to his senses for a few moments, only for the darkness at the edges of his vision to creep back in. Red cloak... Blood red. How… fitting…

A/N:

Thanks to Challos for editing this chapter, there should be a marked increase in the story quality from here on out.