A/N: Wanted to make a quick note about a minor detail the previous chapter that raised confusion among some readers. Neo didn't show up on the motion sensor data because she stayed out of their range, and not because she was able to mask her presence with wacky Semblance hijinks. Winter only got caught when she moved in to investigate after RWBY and JNPR had cleared out, and Neo had no reason to follow her.

"Double the dosage."

Emerald walked into the dorm room occupied by her team to see Mercury performing mechanical surgery on one leg while Lady Cinder pored over information on her scroll. Neo was on her own scroll, though a beat-em-up side scroller could hardly be considered a productive use of her time. Both Mercury and Cinder looked up at Emerald's arrival while the vertically-challenged psychopath ignored her.

Emerald repeated her opening statement, "Whatever concentration of the venom you're putting into the injection, double it."

"I take it your little jaunt this morning was productive?" Cinder asked, a smile crossing her lips.

Emerald tried to hide the satisfaction she gained from Cinder's approval and nodded. "Yes ma'am. I encountered the Belladonna girl and listened in on a conversation she had with someone who is apparently some sort of doctor."

Mercury put his screwdriver down and raised an eyebrow, "Unless his name is Oobleck, I'm not sure how you can be 'some sort' of doctor."

As had become customary with their interactions, Emerald followed up on Mercury's quip with a glare, "She sounded very knowledgeable in the medical advice she gave to the kitten. What's more, the conversation sounded like our friend is suffering from some sort of PTSD."

"That would explain the behavior we saw in the first match. It appears that we were correct in our assessment of her actions," Cinder mused, "And you believe this necessitates a change in our plans why? Our benefactor was very clear in the instructions that came with the gift we received yesterday."

"Because this Doctor Vahlen gave her some relaxant medication to calm her nerves." Emerald answered, "It might dampen the effect we need to the point where our plan doesn't work."

Cinder eyed her scroll, and Emerald guessed she was considering contacting their mysterious benefactor for advice. Emerald wondered if she would ever get to meet this person, given how much Cinder seemed to rely on their guidance and only spoke of them with respect in her voice. In the end she decided against it and opted to make a decision on her own.

"Our benefactor was very clear about the potency of our gift. Too much, and our dear little kitten might kill herself. And while that would be one less huntress to deal with, it does not fit with the narrative we are trying to craft."

Emerald nodded, "Of course, ma'am."

"That being said," Cinder added, "Failing at this stage in the game is likewise… undesirable. We will increase the dosage by half rather than double it. I think that will be a sufficient compromise to account for this new information. Was there anything else of note that you heard during their conversation?"

Emerald nodded, though she looked unsure of herself. "… Yes, though I'm not entirely sure how to explain it."

"Give it your best shot. I'm sure we'll understand at least half of it." Mercury smirked.

Emerald ignored her partner's jab. "Well, they talked as if Belladonna has developed this PTSD months ago, but she seemed perfectly fine when Mercury and I talked with her team before they vanished for a few weeks on that black ops project we've heard about. She mentioned two things I didn't recognize, too: a place called Newfoundland, and a creature called a… Chryssalid?"

"Not a Grimm I've ever heard of." Mercury said, turning back to his leg, "Sure you just didn't have some wax in your ears?"

Cinder held up a hand to silence Mercury. "Come now, Emerald has learned some valuable information for us, and I'm certain our benefactor will be very interested when I pass it along. I trust her report to be accurate, as should you."

Mercury shrugged and continued to work on his prosthetic without a word. Cinder got up from her bed and gave her clothes a quick dust-off before she headed for the door. "It seems I have a scroll call to make. Make sure your… enhancements are ready in time for your fight, Mercury. And remember, she only needs to bleed once. The show will begin shortly thereafter."

Silence fell across the crowd as they watched the stadium begin its impressive transformation for the first finals match of the tournament. No fancy environments rose from the depths of Amity Colosseum this time: the central platform detached itself from the pattern of interlocking metal and elevated the two combatants while the ceiling awnings extended outward to plunge the entire structure into pseudo-darkness. The hard light shields protecting the audience from stray gunfire hummed to life, and a ring of spotlights turned on one-by-one and illuminated the stage and its two combatants.

Blake stood impassively on one end of the platform, her mind hard at work assessing the situation. One Mercury Black stood across from her for the fight, his cocky smirk firmly in place on his smug face. All of the combatants for the Singles Round had previously assembled in the center of the stadium for the viewing pleasure of the audience before the tournament's lottery-style selection system chose Blake and Mercury for the opening fight. Blake noticed that Beacon had three combatants representing Vale in the finals, which struck her as odd. She didn't really pay much attention to the organization of the brackets for the tournament, but she had just assumed that it was set up in a way that resulted in two representatives from each academy would face off for the championship. Nobody else seemed to be raising a fuss about it, though, so she decided to simply let it go.

Presently, however, Blake had bigger issues to worry about. She did go with Vahlen to the Temple Ship for the adrenal medication, and while Blake felt bad about cutting into the doctor's time for breakfast with her team, she did feel more calm than she expected. Not lethargic, dizzy, or tipsy, but all those worries that had been buzzing around her head and heart seemed a lot less important in the grand scheme of things. Instead, she now had the mental capacity to focus on trying to develop a battle plan in the next fifteen seconds before the fighting started. Blake recalled watching Emerald and Mercury fight against Sun and Neptune, and remembered paying attention to the Mercury vs. Sun skirmish in particular. Mercury's fluid fighting style allowed him to evade, redirect, and counter just about everything Sun tried to throw at him. A brute-force combat style like Yang's would probably fare poorly against him, Blake figured.

Perhaps Blake's own strength of agility and misdirection would work better. She could dodge all of her opponent's blows and frustrate him to the point where he finally makes a mistake that she could exploit. Even so, he earned the nickname of 'The Unirkable Merc' for a reason. If goading him into getting sloppy didn't work, Blake would have to come up with a Plan B.

"You just gonna stand there and stare at me all day?" Mercury called, "Or are you gonna say something?"

Ah yes. Head games. Blake knew that taking the bait would be a bad idea, and yet…

"Like what?"

Mercury shrugged, "Oh I dunno. How about 'Good luck?' Or 'May the best fighter win?' "

"Break a leg?" Blake suggested. For the fleetest of moments, Blake noticed the maddening smirk falter and Mercury's eyes narrowed. Interesting. Did she just imagine his glance flicking down to his feet? Either way, it was probably safe to say that Round One went to Blake Belladonna.

Rather than Port's usual interjection, a sharp blast over the stadium's speakers marked the start of the match.

Mercury dropped into his combat stance and cocked an eyebrow at Blake. She knew better than to launch herself at him, so she readied Gambol Shroud and mirrored his look. Blake felt the pulse of her heart as she and Mercury slowly strafed around each other in careful sync. The crowd, usually wild with energy and cheer, held its breath in anticipation of who would make the first strike. And while Mercury seemed perfectly content to wait for Blake to do the honors, she knew that the audience's patience would wear out a lot sooner. Ruby's previous suspicion of Mercury's teammate crossed Blake's mind, and she wondered if he had some nefarious plot up his sleeve. Or maybe he just didn't care about what the crowds wanted to see. Well, since Blake didn't want to get in close just yet…

Gambol shroud folded back on itself, and Blake fired off a volley from her pistol. Mercury spun out of the way with minimal effort, but Blake's opening succeeded in breaking the ice. She skirted around the edge of the elevated arena, pistol still hot while Mercury reacted to her offensive. He landed on his hands from his initial dodge and swung his legs around to evade the next wave of bullets from Gambol Shroud. Blake noticed that the few rounds that directly struck her opponent's feet appeared to have no effect. It didn't really surprise her, given that his boots were his weapons, and she silently nixed the idea of crippling her opponent by focus-firing on his legs. As Mercury let his momentum carry his legs through another full swing, his took aim at Blake and unleashed with his own ranged weaponry. Blake dodged the volley with a quick series of side steps as her opponent continued to discharge shot after shot from his heel.

"An interesting opening from our contestants!" Port commentated, "It seems both Belladonna and Black are testing the waters before committing themselves to melee combat!"

The two fighters continued to dash, dance, and prance around each other. Blake's agility meshed well with her foe's mercurial combat style to produce a sort of dance as each tried to suss out the other's weakness. No matter what angle Blake tried to shoot from, Mercury's whirlwind of leather boots easily deflected the attack. Similarly, the slow speed of Mercury's bullets proved almost trivial for Blake to dodge as she ran rings around him from a while the occasional shot from each side connected with the other, their Aura pools remained largely untouched through the first thirty seconds of the match. Again, Mercury's willingness to stall for time came across to Blake clear as day. For whatever reason, he seemed to think he had an advantage over her in hand-to-hand (hand-to-foot?) combat, and was trying to bait her into recklessly charging into melee after a frustrating stalemate at range.

Well, nothing would change if they continued at this pace. While Blake knew she'd be playing into Mercury's plan, she decided to go for a melee poke and see what happened. With flashing blades, Blake pivoted hard mid-dash and ran straight at Mercury. She juked sideways at the last second and left a shadow clone behind for her opponent to thrust his leg into. Blake swiped low with her blade, and Mercury flipped over the attack with a handspring before kicking off with an explosive bang to put himself right back into melee. Blake knew from watching his previous matches that Mercury was skilled with his hands on both offense and defense despite clearly favoring his feet. He put that talent to good use in their fight with quick motions to redirect Blake's strikes by applying pressure to her forearms or bumping her wrist out of position with a well-timed knife hand. And when he couldn't block an attack with his arms, Mercury had a knack for raising his boot at just the right moment for a deflecting kick.

Blake managed to keep up her own defense as well. She made frequent use of her basic Semblance to keep Mercury off-balance and negate the inevitable counterattack that came after almost every block and kick. She had Weiss's elemental gift locked and ready inside her weapon, but decided to avoid tipping her hand this early (or at all, if she could help it). Blake noted with some annoyance that the shadow still had a slightly amorphous appearance, though it had vastly improved over the weeks and months since she received her new limbs. Still, they were realistic enough to get the job done, and Blake doubted that Mercury had any intention of offering up critique on her shadows in the middle of a tournament fight.

The power that Mercury managed to pack into each kick took Blake by surprise. From the 'floaty' style of combat she'd watched Mercury use in his previous matches, Blake assumed that he'd traded power for speed with his attacks. Seeing first-hand the magnitude of force Mercury packed into his strikes meant that Blake needed to quickly readjust her plan of action. It made her dodging game all the more important, as a single solid blow would be enough to tip the scales heavily in Mercury's favor. Blake caught her opponent's latest sweeping kick between her crossed sword and sheath, and the two combatants locked eyes for a split second. While Mercury still wore his trademark smirk and seemed to be enjoying himself, Blake noticed something else beneath his air of superiority: concentration.

Oh good, so he was taking this fight seriously.

"What an amazing way to kick off the final round of the tournament!" Oobleck exclaimed, "Let's hope the other matches live up to the blood-pumping action of this one!"

As their fight resumed, something seemed different about Mercury's fighting style. He still shifted between hard kicks and dance-like defenses with has fluid momentum, and he certainly showed no signs of growing tired. Blake couldn't pin it down exactly, but something seemed different about his kicks.

"Gotta give you credit," Mercury said as Blake evaded another volley of point-blank heel rounds, "Thought this would be over sooner."

"Thought you'd get beat down ten seconds in?" Blake teased.

"You wish."

The banter seemed friendly enough, and Blake wondered once more whether Ruby's concerns about Mercury and Emerald were actually true. If he had some sort of dastardly plan, Mercury had no problem taking his sweet time with it. Even so, something still nagged Blake about the subtle shift in Mercury's attacks. The fact that she couldn't pin it down frustrated her, and Blake worried if it was something that might cost her the match. She evaded another jab from Mercury, then yelped as he followed up with an incredibly fast back kick. His foot moved faster than her arms, and a loud clang resounded as his heel connected with her forearm instead of her sheath. The force of his attack caused Blake to skid back several feet, but she could clearly see the look of mild confusion on Mercury's face. Her ears perked up and zeroed in on the sound of his mutterings over the din of the stadium.

"Interesting…"

Interesting how? It crossed Blake's mind that he might suspect mechanical enhancements in her arm in the same way that Bolin did during RWBY's first match. While this was the first heavy hit he scored on her arm, Mercury had been pushing and grabbing her forearms throughout their melee. What if this was just the hit that confirmed his suspicions? Well, he wasn't crying foul, so maybe he just didn't care. Blake tried to regain control of her rising pulse as Mercury resumed their fight.

And again, something seemed off. Was Vahlen's drug messing with her ability to focus? That was certainly a worrying possibility that Blake didn't want to entertain.

"And it looks like Black is slowly gaining the upper hand now. He's putting Belladonna on the defensive!"

Blake spent more time now dodging and shadow cloning than counterattacking now, which wasn't really helping her calm the heart pounding in her chest. She needed to think of some way to regain control of the fight and approach it on her own terms. While she hoped to avoid using her number one ace in the hole, it was time to hide in plain sight.

"Belladonna once again uses her disappearing act!" Oobleck pitched in, "Let's see if Black fares better against this trick than Blake's other opponents."

"Heeeeeere kitty kitty." Mercury intoned. He stood perfectly still from the shoulders down, but his head slowly panned across the stage as he tried to pick up on something that would give away Blake's position. "Come out, come out wherever you are…"

The cheering of the audience died down as they waited to see what happened next. Mercury remained perfectly calm, still scanning for signs of his foe. Seconds passed with no sign of an attack, and whispering started to break out among the crowd.

Port's voice echoed throughout the stadium, "What is Belladonna's plan here? The show must go on, and- oh my!"

Under the cover of the professor's booming voice, Blake dashed at Mercury and swept in low at his legs. By the time her Shadow Armor broke its cloak, Mercury only had enough time to raise one leg and try to counter. Blake dipped her head out of the way of Mercury's boot before following through with her attack and knocking her opponent to his back with Gambol Shroud. She felt a sting on her neck and touched it with one hand. As she pulled the glove away, she saw a patch of blood staining the cloth.

"What…?"

There must have been some sort of hidden blade in the heel he threw at her. Suddenly she felt a little less guilty about concealing the nature of her limbs. If Mercury could have a hidden boot blade that could have done some serious damage to her arteries, then what was so bad about keeping her robo arms a secret? It's not her fault that she had a monster literally stab her through the abdomen, and it certainly wasn't her fault that Vahlen's surgery was the only way to save her. What was a choice, however, was Mercury's decision to put a damn dagger in his foot and try to slice her with it. Even if her Aura healed up the wound after the fact, that didn't change the cowardice of his action.

Blake's vision started to turn red as she watched Mercury sit on the ground looking dazed. Oh, bullshit, she didn't knock him on his ass that hard. She didn't know what his plan was, but taking a dive like a soccer player was pretty fucking low, even for a smug asshole like Mercury. Oh boo hoo, he stubbed his widdle toe. Did the jackass forget that he stabbed her in the neck? Blake wasn't complaining and making a show of it. No, she was going to do what any sensible tournament combatant would do, and beat the shit out of this chucklefuck and putting him in his place.

Blake? Are you okay? You look a little… uh… angry.

Congrats on noticing, Ruby. And fuck you too for not sending a psychic warning earlier about the stupid boot blade. Surely you would have sensed Mercury thinking about it, so why not say anything? Well, Blake could have an enjoyable chat with her Captain later. For now, she needed to dispense some justice on the scum laying in front of her.

She swung Gambol Shroud once at the figure trying to stand up before her, and enjoyed the sight of him falling down on his ass again. Good, that's where he belonged. Blake dimly heard Port saying something in the background as her sword arced through the air twice more at Mercury. The huntsman rolled away to his feet to buy himself some breathing room, but Blake was having none of it. She dashed in, delivered a knee to his gut, and sent her foe skyward. Blake followed her prey with a kick-off and sent him crashing back into the ground with another spin of her blades. Good thing this was a tournament match where she was not only allowed to beat the hell out of this punk, but that doing so was the entire point of the event.

Blake. Blake, stop. This isn't you.

Blake crashed down onto Mercury again before he stopped rolling from his own impact with the ground. Ruby could shove it. The small part of Blake's mind that tried to agree with Ruby could go get fucked, too. This guy was a dirty cheater, with his Swiss Army Boot and smug grin. Well, actions have consequences, Mercury, and it's time for you to face the music. Another slice, another kick, and Blake's thirst for revenge only grew stronger. She glanced up at the scoreboard and saw Mercury's Aura level plummet faster than a Nevermore in a nosedive. Good. He needed this, and so did she.

The fear on Mercury's face looked a lot less manufactured the next time they locked eyes. He must have realized by now his mistake, and was terrified of what he knew he deserved. Too bad Blake didn't have room for mercy in her heart right now.

Blake STOP.

No. Shut up, Ruby. Get out of my goddamn head. With the next swing of Gambol Shroud, Mercury's Aura dipped into the red. Blake knew that the match was over by this point. She knew that she was supposed to stop. But what kind of message would that send to Mercury? No, one more good hit should do the trick. Something to make sure he thought long and hard the next time he decided to pull a bullshit stunt on some poor soul in the future. She stood over her prey, eyes burning with rage, and raised her sword. Like the guillotine of France's revolution, this would get her point across to Mercury loud and clear.

And that's when Blake Belladonna blacked out.

"Unaccept… you thinking… Grimm…!"

Blake's eyes swam as she struggled to cling to consciousness. A lot of misshapen figures swirled around in her blurry vision, and Blake could only assume that they were people. Or maybe they were statues. Animated, talking statues.

"Not… couldn't predic… -characteristic."

"… matter! … still have… because of…"

"… know Blake… could… if only…"

What was with this sense of Deja Vu? The fact that these people (some angry and some not) seemed to be talking about her bothered Blake less than the fact that the back of her mind tickled with the sensation that she'd been here before.

"…-gardless… disqual… we do?"

"DISQUALIFIED?!"

Well, at least she could always count on Ruby's voice to come in loud and clear. What did she mean by 'disqualified,' though? Disqualified from what?

"… sense… bigger problems… tournament…"

Oh right, there was a tournament going on. Did Ruby get disqualified from it? She'd probably need some comforting later, in that case. After Blake had a chance to regain her bearings, though.

"… anything… not telling…? … need… Ozpin…"

"Hey… waking up…"

When the talking stopped and the statues got closer, Blake guessed that they were staring at her. Should she say something? She felt like she should say something.

"Wh'sss… whusappen…ing?" Speaking, she realized, was just as difficult as keeping her eyes open, "Wh… where…?"

She felt a sharp pain her her neck and let out a sluggish yelp. On the bright side, whatever she got jabbed with seemed to bring the world into focus. With her vision back in working order, Blake took stock of the situation. Quite a few people crowded the room around her: Ruby and Yang from her team; Nora and Ren from JNPR; Ozpin and Glynda; Vahlen; and General Ironwood. Blake assumed that Pyrrha (and, by extension, Jaune) was missing because she was potentially on-deck for the next tournament fight, while Nora and Ren hung back in the corner. They looked like they wanted to come for moral support, but didn't really know what to do with so many other people crowded around as well. The absence of Weiss and Bradford seemed odd. Maybe Weiss was with her sister, since Winter wasn't here either. Bradford… was he even on Remnant to begin with?

With her head starting to hurt from overthinking the situation, Blake looked down to see that she was propped up in a bed. That could only mean that everyone had assembled in the small medical unit stationed on the Colosseum. The sight of her bare, metallic arms resting on top of the sheets caused Blake to suck in a sharp breath as she instinctively scrambled to cover her secret.

"Save it, miss Belladonna." Ironwood said with a tired sigh, "We've been discussing that little issue while you were passed out."

Letting her arms fall back into lap, Blake cast a sheepish glance at her guests. "I'm… I'm awake now. Is everything alright?"

"I don't know." Ironwood said, the slightest tinge of venom in his voice, "Why don't you tell us?"

Blake blinked in confusion. What was that supposed to mean? Unless… oh no. No, please no. Anything but that.

"What did I do?" She whispered.

"You looked like you were about to kill mister Black." Ozpin sighed, "The match was clearly over, yet you raised your weapon to deliver what looked to be a decapitating blow before you passed out."

Blake darted her eyes around to give the impression of general nervousness, but locked eyes with Ruby for a split-second so that her leader (and not Ironwood) would catch the meaning of her next half-question. "Was it…?"

No, it wasn't me.

Blake looked over at her partner. Yang's usually cheerful attitude instead held a somber, fatigued note. "You had murder written all over your face. Sure, the crowds enjoy watching people beat the crap out of each other, but there was no sportsmanship or competition in your eyes, just… rage."

"It wasn't as catastrophic as it could have been, if that's what you're wondering." Ozpin said, "But it still ruffled some feathers."

Ironwood looked ready to open his mouth, but Glynda cut him off, her voice hard-yet-concerned. "Blake. I've known you long enough to recognize that this wasn't normal behavior. What happened out there?"

Blake felt the bile slowly rising in her throat and swallowed hard as she tried to piece her memory back together. Where did it all start? The fight was going normally (if slowly) for quite a while, then Blake did her vanishing trick, and… oh, that's right.

"Mercury's heel nicked me when he dodged my surprise attack." Blake answered, "I don't know why, but something about that seemed to… uh… set me off."

"That's it?" Ironwood asked, "That's really it? You went crazy because he scratched you? You put the festival and its attendees in jeopardy of a Grimm attack over a papercut?"

Blake shifted uncomfortably. When the General phrased it like that, the whole affair did sound pretty stupid. While she didn't enjoy being reprimanded, she did appreciate the gravity of the situation and why Ironwood was so furious: given that he held the title of Chief of Security for the festival, Blake's outburst just put a lot of extra strain squarely on his shoulders.

"I… I can't explain it, sir. I got up after he cut me, and… just started seeing red." She mumbled.

"Hey." Blake felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked up to see Yang staring back while forcing a smile onto her face, "It's going to be fine."

Ironwood let out a groan. "I wish I could share your optimism, Xiao Long, but I sincerely doubt that things will be fine for quite some time. I have some business -a lot of business, actually- to attend to in the fallout of this mess, so I must be going. I could also use your assistance, professor Goodwitch, if you would be so kind."

"Of course, General."

Glynda followed Ironwood out of the room, and silence fell over the remaining occupants while Blake continued to process the situation. She looked over at Vahlen, who had remained silent thus far, and felt a twinge of guilt. If only Blake had gone to see her sooner, the Doctor could have come up with a solution that was more effective than drugs and meditation. The somber faces looking back at her from around the room only compounded the regret. She noticed the expressions of concern on Nora, Ren, and Yang, the sympathetic half-smile from Ozpin… but Ruby's sadness stood out most of all.

"I'm sorry," Blake said, barely above a whisper, "You put your faith in me, and I let you down. I… I don't know what happened."

Vahlen gave Blake a rare smile. While it looked small and uncertain, Blake sensed that it was also genuine. "I believe you, Blake, and I may have a way to make the most of this terrible situation and find some answers to this unfortunate event."

Blake's ears shot up. "Really?"

"You mentioned that you were nicked before you experienced an altered state of mind, correct?"

"Before I went crazy, you mean?" Blake asked with a derisive laugh, "Yeah. I remember getting really angry about it. Seems pretty dumb in hindsight."

"Perhaps not. Your Aura allows you to recover rapidly from minor cuts and scrapes, correct? If I'm not mistaken, it only takes mere seconds for any sign of the wound to be removed completely."

Blake noticed Ozpin's eyes widen for a fraction of a second. Yang, however, didn't even bother to hide her concern. "What are you getting at, Doc?"

Vahlen grabbed a small pack sitting next to her, dug around for a minute, and produced a syringe. "If someone wished to inject you with a hallucinogenic or a similar toxicological agent, there'd be no way to detect it with a visual examination, would there?"

"… Do you always carry a syringe around with you?" Ruby asked, eyeing Vahlen's equipment.

At this point, Vahlen could be carrying around a Large Hadron Supercollider (whatever that was) in her bag, and Blake wouldn't care. The implications of her question started to turn the cogs in Blake's head. "So you think I was sabotaged?"

"Wait," Nora interrupted, "Isn't Aura supposed to stop stuff like that? Like, actually getting injured and stuff?"

Ren shook his head. "Aura can mitigate major blows and help us shrug off the pain from a fall so that we can stand back up and carry on fighting, but something like a scratch could very easily slip through. Blake would have had to actively focus her Aura to defend against it, which wasn't possible given that her efforts were focused on her surprise sweep attack."

"Oh." Nora said, "I guess I've never noticed."

"We can hypothesize all day if we want and get no closer to the truth." Vahlen pointed out, "But if I took a blood sample and examined it in my lab…"

"Do it."

Vahlen glanced over her shoulder at the other people in the room, "Once we're done here, I will. Given that the most common veins used for drawing blood aren't exactly available in this case, the next best option is a little more… personal."

"I see no problem with personal." Yang said, earning herself an elbow to the ribs from her sister.

"If I may interrupt, I have a question."

All eyes turned to Ren in the back of the room, and the young huntsman continued, "What's going to happen with the rest of the tournament? Ironwood wasn't wrong when he said that people are likely rattled after the match between Blake and Mercury, and that's assuming there isn't any foul play at work. If Vahlen finds something during her blood workup, then perhaps Ruby wasn't wrong to suspect Emerald's team."

The focus of the room's occupants shifted over to Ozpin, who looked as if he was expecting this question sooner or later. "The obvious answer would be to halt the tournament until we can determine whether or not something nefarious is truly going on. However, it may not be that simple. We stop the tournament, and people will wonder why. When people wonder why, they begin to develop theories of their own. When it comes to fear and the Grimm, baseless theories are never good."

"So… what? We just keep moving things along like nothing happened?" Yang asked, "That seems like it would be worse."

"I will have to discuss this with General Ironwood, but I'd like to point out that moving things along does not necessarily mean we act like nothing happened. Ironwood has become keenly aware that there is a very real security problem now, and he and I will take steps to root the problem out over the next several hours and days. Step one is to question Mercury about the events that transpired and see if we can determine any foul play."

"Might want to tap XCOM's Psi Corps for that conversation." Ruby suggested, "Even if we can't use their findings as evidence because nobody knows about their ability to read thoughts, it provides us with confirmation that we need to watch Emerald's team and every move they make."

"I can contact Bradford and ask him to dispatch Annette or another psi op. With your permission, of course." Vahlen said, glancing at Ozpin.

"That would be a very wise move, I think." Ozpin agreed, "Though perhaps not Annette, as our suspicious friends have likely seen her with RWBY and JNPR already. An unknown would be a better idea."

Vahlen made a few taps on her tablet (Blake noticed that she preferred the larger device over her new scroll) and nodded. "Done. I suspect Bradford will also suggest sending a few more conventional operatives to provide additional security and reconnaissance. Now, I would like to spend some time alone with Blake if we are all finished here. Given the potentially dire nature of what is unfolding here, I don't doubt that you all have places to be as well."

Ruby nodded. "Yeah. Hopefully this turns out to be nothing, but knowing our luck…" She bumped her sister, "C'mon. Let's go find Weiss and see if we can help coordinate with Bradford's recon team."

Bradford ran a hand through his hair and exhaled a stressed sigh. A day (or three hours, depending on one's perspective) had passed since Blake's incident in the tournament, and the coordinated efforts to resolve matters didn't go as smoothly as anyone had hoped. Bradford remembered getting Ruby's initial alert that something had happened to Blake in her fight, and his feeling of powerlessness when he found himself unable to go. The day after his meeting with the Council, he received a follow-up message from them requesting his presence at some sort of delegation as an ambassador for XCOM. The Council itself wouldn't be present, but representatives from almost every nation on Earth would be there. The Central Officer assumed that this was part of the Council's plan to try a 'different' approach to their negotiations with XCOM, and so Bradford felt like he'd be spitting in the face of a well-intentioned olive branch if he chose not to go.

To its credit, the delegation did feel productive. Bradford didn't have to speak much at all, though he did shake a lot of hands. It seemed like many countries were eager to express their gratitude for his hard work, and so Bradford found himself to be quite popular among the majority of the delegation's guests. He hung back and kept quiet when the discussions got underway. The main focus of the talks revolved around efforts to rebuild. It appeared that confirmation of life elsewhere in the galaxy, and its apparent awareness of Earth, had motivated the people of Earth to put aside their differences and try to work towards a unified front. Discussions ranged from plans for infrastructure to preservation of culture, and Bradford actually felt happy the Council suggest he sit in on the talks. He was asked for his thoughts every now and then when the conversation steered towards security or technology, but for the most part he quietly listened and tried to gauge which way the winds were blowing.

Which, of course, left him unable to make the trip to Remnant when he received words of trouble brewing. By the time he'd returned to the Temple Ship and received a complete debriefing from Van Doorn, the issue had already been (sort of) resolved. Bradford's ranking officers did a solid job of coordinating their efforts with Ozpin to help in any way they could. The Vytal Tournament had already resumed and Ironwood's security measures were set in motion, though hiccups arose almost immediately. Despite their best efforts, Atlas security failed to locate and detain Mercury and Emerald for questioning. In the time it took for Ironwood to send out an all-points bulletin after meeting with Blake and Ozpin, it seemed like the Mistrali team had quietly smooth-talked their way off of the Colosseum and vanished into Vale. Ironwood agreed to allow a dispatch of Valean Recon operatives to assist with the search, but nothing had turned up yet.

The atmosphere at the festival seemed a little more subdued as well. Sure, spirits were high and the cheering was loud for the next two matches (Pyrrha in particular put on a good show against some kid from Atlas), but there was a lot of downtime in between fights. And from the reports Bradford received from RWBY, JNPR, and his scouts, rumors and concerns were starting to spread. He didn't agree with the decision to continue with the festival in light of these problems. Shut it down and send everyone home, consequences be damned. The damage would be a lot less than if something happens with thousands of people still gathered in one place. Political complaints could be smoothed over with time. The memory of a bloody massacre would be inked into the history books forever. Still, the call wasn't his to make, and so the best Bradford could do was coordinate with his operatives, confer with Ozpin, and hope for the best.

Oh, and prepare for the other conference coming up.

In spite of their efforts to make amends, such as the invite to the conference, it seemed the Council still felt the need to pull a pointless power move and push up the date of their meeting by a day. Bradford knew that the more likely scenario was that they managed to get all their arrangements in order faster than expected and didn't want to wait an extra day, but he didn't like that the meeting with the Councilman would be happening while the issues on Remnant were still unresolved. Bradford knew he would have to tell him about Remnant, and he knew that the Councilman would want to see it for himself. Telling him 'no' would only raise suspicion and make things worse when both parties were trying to make them better.

Bradford gave himself a final once-over in his private washroom before stepping out to oversee final preparations. MacAuley stood outside the door waiting for him.

"Everything ready, Mac?"

The Irishman nodded. "Eightball left twenty minutes ago to escort the Councilman's transport. They should be here in less than ten minutes."

"Good. Let's get this over with."

"Are things that bad with the Council?" MacAuley asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No," Bradford sighed as the two of them walked down the hallway, "I made some… mistakes in my early negotiations with them after the war, and things just sort of devolved from there. Even if we're moving in the right direction now, the thought of the Council still leaves a bad taste in my mouth."

"Well, the Councilman is about to be fuckin' impressed, because Engineering has been working around the clock to get this ship cleaned up for him since we got word two days go about his arrival."

Bradford smiled. "Thanks, MacAuley. I know that you took it upon yourself to spearhead this operation, and I really appreciate it. We need to put our best foot forward with the Council, and I believe your efforts will go a long way to accomplish that."

"Yeah, yeah," MacAuley waved him off, "You can thank me afterwards in the lounge for a round of beer. Fastest way to an Irishman's heart and all that."

Bradford and MacAuley passed by a lot of personnel as they made their way towards the hangar, and everyone was busy with last-minute work before the Council delegation arrived. A few operatives and MECs also were pitching in to help with the manual labor, though Bradford knew most of the Strike Teams were waiting for him as part of the welcoming committee. The two of them made it to the cavernous hangar just as Annette reported visual contact with the transport and its escort. Flanked by his cadre of field operatives in dress uniform and his Chief Scientist and Engineer, Bradford stood at attention with his welcoming committee as they watched the Councilman's transport fly in flanked by Eightball's Firestorm and land on the flight deck. The boarding ramp lowered with a hiss, and Bradford observed five people step out.

Three of the guests were obviously the security detail. Dressed in fatigues with weapons casually held in their hands, it looked like the Councilman decided to take up Van Doorn on his offer to bring some muscle to the meeting. The woman in front, probably the head of the detail by Bradford's guess, looked almost bored with her shotgun in hand and a baseball cap on her head proudly displaying Ireland's colors.

The fourth was a bald, bespectacled young man who immediately started to take in his surroundings and jot down notes on a datapad in his hand. The Councilman's science aide, no doubt about it. Bradford wondered if he was selected because his age would make him easily impressionable and eager to please his superiors on what was undoubtedly the most important project of his life. At the same time, however, his lack of age meant a lack of old habits or long-standing ties with the Council. Either way, he reminded Bradford of Dr. Vahlen in the air of eagerness surrounding him. Hopefully the two would get along.

And finally, Bradford set his eyes on the fifth member of the delegation. An older, slightly heavy-set man whose lack of hair matched the scientist made his way down the ramp. He looked calm and collected as he carried himself with confidence and purpose. A sidearm hung at his hip, and Bradford wondered if it was purely for show or if the man possessed some degree of skill with it. The security detail approached Bradford, then moved aside to allow the two remaining members of the party to step forward. The older man stopped in front of Bradford and stood quietly for a brief moment before finally offering a greeting and an outstretched hand.

"Central Officer Bradford, it is... good to finally meet you face-to-face. I am Councilman Bailey."

A/N: You're goddamn right I'm bringing Jane motherfucking Kelly into this story. That woman is probably Resistance!XCOM's 3rd greatest asset behind Bradford's lost sweatervest and Peter Van Doorn.