We got to class on time, comparatively speaking. Didn't have as much trouble staying awake as I did yesterday. Even if the topics weren't any more engaging. We rolled through the basics quickly: math, science, usual stuff. Grimm biology was off the table today, so Port didn't get to spring anything on us again. We were going to have history lessons after lunch, which was starting to get interesting. Oobleck had gotten more into Vale's history now, and I was finding it fascinating. But before that, we had two classes of growing personal importance: Weapons maintenance, and combat training. Both for related if dissimilar reasons.

I stropped Blood-Nap's edge along the whetstone lightly, grating a thin line of fine slurry from the moistened grit. I flipped the knife around and reversed the motion, keeping the edge even. There were nicks in the blade, about a third and two-thirds up the blade, respectively. I was never able to grind them out, so I had to make sure they at least didn't impede its effectiveness any worse.

I gave the blade a few more passes, then tested it on my arm, passing it over a small patch of hair. The blade pulled slightly, but came away clean enough. A passable shave for a few minutes work.

"So, there's nothing special about it?" Ruby asked, eyeing my knife.

"Again, no, Ruby." I answered, returning Blood-Nap to its sheath "Just like all my other weapons, there's nothing 'special' about them."

Unless you count where I found them or how they were made, anyway.

Seated at our usual spots in the workshop, I was meticulously going over my equipment. Making sure after last night's events they wouldn't suddenly seize up on me tonight. Knowing my luck, if I didn't do it, they would. Oddly though, I was finding it easier than usual. I already knew how to keep them in working order, I'd had them long enough after all. But as I worked with them, I found myself disassembling them almost automatically, picturing in my head what the most likely culprits for issue were. An odd sensation, but maybe it was just the coffee kicking in, keeping me focused. I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

I'd already finished going over my lever-action and That Gun. With Blood-Nap sharp as I could get it without going into polishing stones, that only left my Flare gun to take a look at. After which, I could get started on some real work.

I broke the action open, beginning the disassembly.

"What's that one?" Ruby asked, eyes brightening.

"Flare gun." I answered.

"Flare gun?" Ruby asked, eyeing the pistol "Like they have on airships, shoots a glowing ball into the sky?"

"It's called a signal flare, and yes. Though I think they'd probably use dust to make them here rather than phosphorous."

"Should we even ask why you have it?" Weiss asked.

"It's probably not for the reason you think." I said lightly.

"It's for lighting people on fire, isn't it." Blake said, not even pretending it was for anything different.

I placed my hand against my chest, wounded "Blake Belladonna, do you think me so uncouth I'd misuse a rescue tool in such fashion?"

I saw Blake's lip twitch upward slightly. Truthfully, if it weren't for the mask, they'd know I wasn't able to say that with a straight face.

I continued working with the flare gun as I spoke: "The flare rounds this thing fires burn in excess of 2000 degrees Fahrenheit. On top shining more than bright enough to illuminate most dark spaces, most normal animals and creatures have enough common sense to avoid them because they know that fire is dangerous. Even when they aren't normal, they still typical make a run for it rather than face the weird creature that shoots miniature suns at them. Makes for quite the useful tool in a pinch."

"So you're saying you haven't set people on fire with it?" Ruby asked, hopeful.

"Oh no, I've totally set people on fire with it. But it's really not as effective as you'd think. They'll burn you, but unless you've been doused in fuel, it won't burn forever. And it's more likely to leave you badly injured than dead. Not very useful beyond scaring people."

I'm fairly certain my teammates collectively moved a few inches away from me. Acting like it had never occurred to them to try psychological warfare on their opponents.

Then again, Grimm were monsters hell-bent on the destruction of humanity, with only the eldest having something resembling intelligence. It was more than likely psychological warfare wasn't something they tried. Especially given fear supposedly attracts them… Maybe they had the right idea, moving away from me.

"… It's not a standard part of my arsenal." I clarified "I only started using it again because I needed to substitute something I used up."

"You were using something else to light people on fire?" Ruby asked, concerned.

"No, Ruby, they were flashbangs. Y'know, grenades meant to go up in a big burst of light and sound. Really good for disorienting people without causing too much damage."

"O-oh… good. Cool."

"… If it'll make you feel better, I've got bigger plans for it now."

"Like what?"

I finished my inspection of the flare gun, and began re-assembly. "Depending on what Port has to say, you may just find out."

It took me a moment or two to put it back together. Once it was though, I cocked and dry fired the hammer, just to be sure. The flare gun wasn't the most mechanically advanced piece of equipment I had, but it always paid to be sure. With my luck, the firing pin would break while striking the primer or some shit.

I set my equipment aside in a neat pile and before wandering out and down the hall to the locker rooms. Not sure if it was good design or happenstance that the two were as close as they were. I wanted to say good design, but this place was such a maze I couldn't really say that with confidence.

Still, it made getting to the next class easier.

There were other people in the locker room yet. Some, like me, who were in maintenance and messing with their weapons. Others were in the midst of changing, prepping for combat. Double checking their equipment and changing out of their uniforms for more comfortable clothes. I'd be doing the same before too much longer, but for the moment I had bigger fish to catch.

I punched my code into my locker, being careful not to initiate its launch sequence, and opened it. What I was looking for was resting atop my armor, as I'd left it earlier that morning. An ammo tin I'd collected over the course of the night, filled with all the rounds I could find and cram into it while raiding the stash-houses. Not necessarily a large amount, given how vastly different ammo was in shape and size, depending on the weapon. But every round I could scrounge was materials I wouldn't have to grab or track down later. For what I was planning to do, or at least attempt, I was going to need as much as I could find. Never could have enough margin for error.

I walked back out of the locker room with the ammo tin, and approached the table Port was working at. He'd removed the face plated from his blunderaxe, revealing the weapons inner workings. From the little I could see of them; they were deceptively more complex than the weapon's antiquated appearance implied. The man himself wore a set of glasses, atypical for him, with multiple magnification lenses attached.

Sensing my approach, the professor looked up from his weapon, peering at me over his spectacles, yet somehow still managing for his eyes to be hidden behind his bushy brows.

"Hello there-" He said, voice carrying a smile "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Just might be." I said, hefting my ammo tin "I was curious about whether or not we had any reloading equipment."

Port quirked an eyebrow, surprised "Reloading equipment?"

"Mm, we seem to have almost every other kind of tool under the sun here, so I figured I'd ask."

Port rested his chin against his hand. "Hmm… it's been some time since anyone has asked. Most students tend to purchase the required munitions from retailers in town."

"Ah, but if you want the best, you have to learn to make it yourself."

A wry smile quirked its way out from beneath Port's moustache. "Now there's a rare sentiment, few know the value in making their own munitions. Fewer every day, sadly…" Port placed his spectacles on the work bench and stood, stretching. "If I recall, we do have some equipment in storage. Though it has been sometime since it last saw use."

"Mind if I take a look at some of it?"

"Not at all." The professor boomed "You'd be the first student to try to use it, and I'm curious what you intend."

Port walked for the back of the workshop, and I followed. It was a big place, at times feeling more like a garage or warehouse than a classroom. The storage room was set along the same wall as the locker room, further down. An old set of steel doors with wire enforced glass windows leading to separating the room from the workshop. Port withdrew his scroll and made a motion to the door with it. I heard the metallic 'thunk' of a deadbolt disengaging, and he pulled the door open.

I turned back to my teammates and motioned to them, welcoming them to follow. It was their prerogative if they decided to join me, but I figured there wasn't any harm in at least extending the invitation. They could stand to benefit from learning something new.

I followed Port into the storage room, and found it dimly lit. The workshop had the benefit of overhead skylights, on top of larger fixtures dangling from the ceiling. The storage room didn't, with what light it had being provided by rather antiquated looking electric lamps. I suppose there wasn't much need to regularly update a room for outdated equipment and materials. Which is what this was. There were racks and shelves laden with materials, all in different styles and shapes. Everything from Carbon steel bar and aluminum sheeting to wood planks and rolls of leather. Large machinery sat, most covered over with cloth sheets or otherwise laden with dust. Actual dust, not the magical kind. Drill presses, mills, hydraulic presses, lathes, same as what was already out on the Workshop floor. But I could tell by looking that most of it was antiquated. Perhaps not as precise or powerful as what was currently in use by the rest of the students. Though outdated didn't mean the same thing as useless.

Port walked towards one end of the room and slid his finger over a panel. Another of the old lights clicked on, illuminating an old wood and steel table, heavily marred by work, colored by age and time. Small sets of drawers and tooling chests rested on its top, along with tooling that hung from a backboard. By far the thing taking up the most space, however, were the multiple reloading presses set along the table's edges. Each set, and likely forgotten, with different tooling and dies. Likely from the last person to attempt to use it.

"We have other benches and tools-" Port explained "However, this was the last of it we had ready before moving it here. It should, however, suffice for whatever you're intending."

"Should indeed." I nodded, stepping up to the table.

"I have some knowledge using some of the tools, if you need a hand?"

"Nah, I'm pretty much old hat at this." I said, setting the tin down and cracking my knuckles "But you can stick around if you feel like."

Port seemed a bit put out by my casual rebuke of his help, but stuck around regardless, brow rising in interest at whatever I was going to do.

I popped open the ammo tin and began rooting through the loose cartridges. Pulling out the varying calibers more by Dust type than by size. I was already planning to tread waters I was partially unfamiliar with. Last thing I needed was to start unintentionally mixing them together. Though more than likely, doing something similar was liable to become an end goal.

"Quite the odd collection." Port mused, clearly studying the menagerie of bullets as I separated them out "Where did you find most of these?"

"Oh, y'know, around." I said "You'd be amazed at what people toss aside; wasteful I tell you."

"What're you going to do with them?" Ruby asked.

I turned around and saw her creeping into the supply closet. Followed by… well, Weiss of all people, actually. Funny, wasn't actually expecting anyone besides Ruby to have an interest.

"Well Ruby-" I said, turning back to the bench "To start, I'm going to breakdown most of these different bullets for their base materials so I can have a better idea of what I'm working with."

"Why?" Weiss asked, watching me load rifle cartridges into the press "You could just order them."

"I could." I agreed, knowing full well of the stores that'd been robbed "But this is as much for my own practical benefit as it is anything else. I've got some things I want to try."

With the cartridges in place, I changed out the tooling on the press, replacing the dies with pulling clamps. With practiced hands, I moved the cartridge into place and pulled the bullets free from the casing, exposing the Dust within. Ice, in this instance.

I grabbed an empty canister sitting on the bench, and placed it next to the press.

"Umm…" Ruby said, worriedly "Do you know what you're doing?"

"Of course, I'm pretty much old hat at making bullets."

I removed the now opened cartridge from the press, and unceremoniously dumped its contents into the pan. In the corner of my vision I saw Port taking a step back.

"Be Careful!" Weiss suddenly squawked

"Relax." I said, tapping the cartridge against the can, shaking out any lingering Dust "- As long as I-"

There was a sudden hiss, followed by a burst of icy wind and fog. A thin layer of frost suddenly covering the lenses of my gas mask. Cold seeping through my uniform.

"…"

I heard someone, probably Ruby, giggling.

"You were saying?" Weiss asked.

"… I knew what I was doing." I said, wiping the frost from my lenses with a finger. "Once again, clearly that's not enough."

"If I might ask-" Port began "What exactly was it you were intending to do?"

"Exactly what I said: make my own ammunition. You get more control when you do it yourself, and I've done it successfully in the past."

"Was any of it using dust?" Weiss asked.

"No, most of it was varying forms of gunpowder."

"Gunpowder?" Port asked, sounding surprised "Quite the unexpected choice, Mr. Six."

"You've heard of it?"

"Of course." Port scoffed, though not condescending "I would not be much of an instructor regarding weapons maintenance if I was not schooled in the classics. It also would explain your cavalier disregard for safely handling dust."

"… I'm afraid I don't follow."

Before Port could answer, I found a pamphlet thrust into my face. A quick glance showing it was held by snowflake.

"What's this for?"

"Teaching you to be more cautious." Weiss grumbled.

I took the pamphlet and read the cover of it. 'Dust for Dummies, and other inadequate individuals'…

"Well, that's just rude." I said snidely, opening the pamphlet.

"As you're probably aware, gunpowder is rather stable under most conditions." Port gesticulated "Typically requiring an external ignition source, such as a flame or spark."

"-or static electricity." I commented, thumbing open the pamphlet "Once saw a guy blow himself to pieces for not wearing the proper clothing."

That was not a lie either. This guy I knew, Isaac, used to work with the Gun Runners of all things. Used to hang around outside the kiosk they sold their wares from. Spent most of his time handling larger shipments and reloading ammo. Guy was almost always covered in powder remnants and dirt. Figures, since he was outside most of the time.

Then one day, when the conditions were right, he went to touch the press and went up with a clap of thunder. Only upside was it gave the Gun Runners an excuse to start cleaning the area more regularly.

It also taught me the importance of wearing leather-soled shoes.

I skimmed through the pamphlet until I found something of relevant note. Namely a list of safety tips set under a section regarding powdered dust, which itself was an oxymoron if I'd ever see one.

"Do not shake Dust products, do not drop Dust products…" I mumbled to myself, reading "… avoid mixing different dust types… avoid sneezing on it?"

"Yeah, you kinda want to avoid that one." Ruby said.

"… Okay, I have to question the validity of most of these." I said, setting the pamphlet down "There's no way something this volatile could be useful in any actual capacity."

"And how would that be?" Weiss asked.

"Like this:" I picked up one of the nearby cartridges and dropped it on the bench. It didn't explode, or go off in similar fashion. "If it were actually that unstable, carrying it around in combat would be next to impossible. On top of being more of a danger to the wielder than the intended target."

"… A fair point." Weiss assented "Dust is vastly more volatile while in contact with the open air. Depending on whether you're working with the powder or raw crystals, the volatility changes."

"… Ok, so it's like a chemical reaction." I said, rationalizing it in my own way "The more oxygen available to fuel the reaction, the faster and more vigorous the end result."

"If that helps you understand it, yes." Weiss nodded.

Which meant I needed to handle things slightly different than if I was just using gunpowder. But considering what I'd been planning to test anyway, that wasn't much of a challenge. Just needed a change to the order of operations.

And probably ignore a few safety practices and guidelines for good measure.

Rather than continue unloading the cartridges, I switched gears and began setting up equipment reserved for casting bullets and slugs.

"What are you doing now?" Ruby asked, watching as I clamped a mold for 12 gauge slugs closed.

"You'll understand in a moment."

I took the pan I'd been planning to reserve the dust in and wiped it out, making sure there weren't any lingering grains or residual moisture from the ice. Didn't want to take any chance of it interfering with what I was doing.

I then reached into my pocket and pulled out a bottle of wonder glue.

Port blinked, somehow visible beneath his brow, and looked at me in confusion. "Where'd you pull that from?"

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"I have deep pockets." I chuckled, squeezing a portion of the bottle's contents into the pan.

No turning back now, the clock was ticking.

I returned to the bullet press with a vigor and pried another cartridge apart. In similar fashion to the first, I removed the casing and emptied the contents into the pan.

"You're just doing the same thing as last time." Weiss said, leery.

"Not so." I said "Watch."

I grabbed the wonder glue again and began to pour more of the adhesive over the exposed powder. The clear liquid stayed over the fine powder for a moment, before small pockets of air began bubbling to the surface, the adhesive sinking between the grains, encapsulating everything.

Tentatively, I tapped the casing against the pan.

No reaction. Which meant, so far, it was a success.

Ruby leaned in over the bench, looking at the pan, curious.

"… You took the oxygen out." Weiss surmised, mirroring Ruby.

"Less 'took it out' and more 'can't reach the dust'." I explained, beginning to unload more cartridges "If oxygen plays a role in how volatile this stuff is, the short answer is just to limit the amount of exposure. It might not completely remove the danger, but it certainly mitigates it."

"But wouldn't that make it less effective?" Ruby asked "It'd be the same as just using a crystal instead."

"I believe that would depend on the adhesive used, Ms. Rose." Port boomed, rubbing his chin "Isn't that correct, Mr. Six?"

"Spot on." I said "The adhesive will slow the reaction down, yes, but by how much depends on the adhesive's own inherent stability. Instead of making everything one solid mass, it still leaves space for the individual grains to do their own work. Effectively forming a middle ground between the two forms."

"But once it sets, it can't be shaped." Weiss said "Wouldn't that make it less useful?"

"Well, snowflake-" I said, continuing to layer dust and glue "That all depends on what you intend to use it for."

Satisfied with the amount of dust and glue in the pan, I picked up the pace. Chiseling a splinter of wood off the bench, I gingerly mixed the dust and glue together, creating something more homogenous. I could feel it beginning to set as I did, warning me I was pushing the limit with it.

I picked the pan up and poured its contents into the mold for the slug, having enough to form a pair of them.

I wiped out the mixture's remnants, and let the slugs cure for a moment. Setting about to repeat the process, this time with something more dangerous.

"You're turning them into projectiles." Port said.

"Indeed."

"May I ask why?"

"You can, but you may not get an answer."

"…"

"Well, one you might not want, anyway."

Ruby and Weiss both gave me a look, perhaps a bit more knowing than the one Port had. They knew my circumstances, and probably figured I was doing this because I'd finally decided it was in my interest to try the local flavor. If that was the case, they'd be half right.

Only half though.

Me and Gunpowder had seen each other through tough times and weathered many a storm together. When it came down to it, in my mind, it was better suited for combat than the likes of Dust, despite the latter's versatility. You don't need all the fancy hoo-hah to fight someone, just shoot them and be done with it.

The past few nights, however, were putting things into a different light.

People were tougher here than they were in the wasteland, meaning now more than ever, gunpowder should be the go-to for a fight. Something that can just help me push past aura's natural defenses and end the fight. But doing that left a Bloody Mess to clean up afterwards. How bad it was could vary depending on the fight, but it'd still be there. Which would be more than enough to distract the cops.

Which was the exact opposite of what I wanted right now

I had no problem killing if push came to shove, but if it could be reasonably avoided, I sooner would. All moral quandaries aside, the cops needed to stay focused. Needed to keep the White Fang from pulling whatever strings they were trying to in the background. If they got it in their heads that there was a serial killer loose in their city, I'd basically be doing the White Fang's job for them.

I wasn't going to bend over backwards to save the lives of people who had nothing but ill-will for others. But tearing through the city like a storm from the Divide wouldn't solve anything either. So the only real answer I had was to give them just enough rope to hang themselves with. Try to avoid outright lethal measures, but not be afraid to use them if it came to that. They felt obliged to swing, I wasn't going to stop them. But in order for that to happen, I actually needed to give them the rope first.

Hence why I was now beginning to experiment with Dust. It's ability to perform what was tantamount to magic, from my perspective, meant I might be able to actually achieve such a balance. As long as I could figure out the way to work with it, anyway. If I just wanted to kill them, I had better weapons waiting in my locker.

So the first test, as a proof of concept, was try to create ammo in a fashion that made sense to me.

The second: See what kinds of effects I could reasonably eke out of them.

Which was what I was doing next.

"… Riddle me this:" I said, turning to Ruby and Weiss "If you wanted to cause a big flash of light and a large burst of noise, but not necessarily an explosion, what kinds of dust would you consider?"

A puzzled look wormed its way onto Ruby's face, as she mulled the question over. Weiss, however seemed to already have an answer, even if only half of one.

"If you wanted to cause a burst of light, you'd be limited to only a few different types of dust. Such as lightning or fire dust. There are a few others that might work as well, but you won't find them outside Atlas."

"Hmph, figures they'd keep all the good stuff for themselves." I grumbled.

"You could probably use wind dust to make noise." Ruby said, uncertain "-or maybe… steam?"

"… There's dust specifically meant for making steam?"

"It's actually created through the simultaneous use of fire and water dust." Port corrected.

"So you can mix dust?" I asked, now confused.

"Not directly." Weiss said "You would need to use them in conjunction while in combat."

"… Ok, fuck it."

I prepped the pan again and unloaded two rounds. One for lightning and one for wind. Mixing them in the same fashion I had for the previous Ice slugs.

That got their attention right quick.

"You're not supposed to mix them!" Weiss screeched.

"I also wasn't supposed to rip the tags off your mattresses, but I did it anyway."

"What!?"

I was lying, but it was so she'd get off my back about the dust.

Before she realized that, I'd already layered the dust in with the glue and begun to gingerly mix them.

Weiss gave me an irritated look when she realized that.

"Hey, 'Safety tips' is just another fancy word for 'guidelines'. If you're smart, you don't need as many of them. All I'm really doing is trying to skip a more troublesome step anyway."

"…" Weiss shook her head "Fine, when they blow up in your face, you'll only have yourself to blame."

"Kinda the idea, yeah."

Once again, I poured the projectile mixture into the mold and left it to cure. It wasn't going to take long, wonder glue, as its name implied, had a rather short hardening period. The ice slugs were just about set now, a minute or two more, at most.

"Ok, so you've made them." Ruby said, curious "Now what?"

"Now, I actually have to load them into something."

Reaching back into the ammo tin once more, I retrieved the spent flare shells from the previous night's events. They were largely still intact, and roughly the right size, so they would work just fine. Probably.

I could have just loaded them into some 12-gauge hulls and treated them like regular shells, but that was a gamble all its own. Aside from the fact that this was already treading into unfamiliar ground, there was always the chance I would misjudge the pressures I was dealing with. If I put too much powder behind it, what was to stop the slugs from just detonating in the barrel? I'd already seen it happen just from my tapping it into a collection pan.

I'd basically be turning my guns into grenades.

Fortunately I was conscious enough of that fact to at least try and avoid it. I could start to get really creative with it once I at least knew what I was dealing with. For now, testing.

So I reloaded the flare shells as though they were normal, and not carrying something that defied reality as I knew it. Primers, powder, wading, slug, and seal. I got four shells out of the deal, and made sure to mark them, just to avoid the off chance I forgot what they were.

"Hmm, most interesting." Port said, eyeing my handy work "Assuming your claims are true, you're the first student to have successfully produced munitions with this equipment in quite some time."

"Ah, but there's the trick of it now. I have to actually test it. Going to need to find someplace to do that."

"Why not just use the firing range outside?" Ruby asked.

"…" I turned and looked at Ruby "We have a firing range?"

"Would it really be a workshop without one?"

"… Fair point."

I returned the dies and tooling to their proper spots on the bench, and we started back out to the rest of shop.

"Any chance I can convince you to get that bench un-mothballed?" I asked Port.

"Certainly." Port said, smiling appreciatively "To see it being put to use regularly would be a wonderful sight. There are many in you class who could benefit from such experience."

I nodded in agreement "Shame most don't consider it."

"You nearly blew yourself up." Weiss sniped.

"That's an exaggeration."

"Your clothes are still damp."

"Eh, needed a shower anyway."

"…"

We walked out of the store room and back towards our table, Port pausing for a moment to lock the room as we left. I was going to collect the rest of my equipment, then use whatever time I had left to try and figure out what shortcomings my freshly minted ammo had. I could wait to test it tonight, but the heat of a fire fight was typically not the best place to gamble such things. If it was going to blow up in my face, I'd rather it not be while I'm busy dodging bullets.

As we approached the table, an unexpected scene unfolded itself before us. Blake and Yang hadn't moved much, maybe an inch or two in one direction or another. Waiting with them, however, was team CFVY. Yatsu and Velvet hanging out on Blake's side, While Coco and Fox were with Yang.

"-so I said: I like to start my year off with a Yang!" Yang said, grinning ear to ear "Eh?- Eh?"

CFVY was largely nonplussed by Yang's efforts at humor. Coco and Fox shook their head and rolled their eyes, respectively. The giant, Yatsu, buried his face in his hand, a barely audible groan escaping him. The only one who gave what could even remotely be considered a favorable reaction was Velvet. But it came in the form of a weak chuckle and a pained smile.

"Then she caught an apple to the face." I said as we approached the table, catching their attention "- and helped cause a food fight."

Yang grimaced slightly "Ugh, you just had to ruin the story, I was getting to that."

"Well, sorry to take all of the pun out of it for you."

Yang shot me a look, then rolled her eyes. "But, yeah, we got into a food fight after that. It was awesome, we basically wrecked the whole cafeteria. I even went flying through the roof."

"So that's where those holes came from." Velvet said, nodding.

"Crazier than that, some of us kept getting clotheslined with tables." I muttered, giving Ruby a sideways glance. She chuckled nervously and twiddled her fingers. "Still pretty sore about that."

"Pretty sure I was more soar during." Yang smirked.

Another round of groans.

"Can we table this for now?" I said "We can tell them about it later."

Team CFVY turned to look at me now, somehow even more nonplussed than they were a second ago.

Yang, meanwhile, beamed at me.

"… I just can't win, can I?"

"Nope." Ruby said, shaking her head in disappointment.

"It wasn't that bad." Yang said, turning back to CFVY "But yeah, he's here now."

"About time." Coco said, before nodding to me "What'd you do, get lost?"

"No, just had something blow up in my face." I answered "Let me guess, you're here to get a jump on training?"

"Beats having to wait for you to find us." Coco shrugged.

"You might have to wait a little bit longer, I was just about to go test some stuff." I said, motioning to the flare shells.

"What're those?" Velvet asked.

"A couple of dust rounds I made, and am looking to test." I answered, collecting my equipment from the table "Was just about to step out to the range."

"You made your own ammo?" Coco asked, peering at me over her shades "You know they're probably going to blow up in your face, right?"

"Always a chance, yeah."

"…" Coco smirked and got up "This I gotta see."

"Well I'm not gonna stop you, but I'm not liable for you getting hurt should something go wrong either."

"You sound so confident." Coco smirked.

"Just call it like it is. I'll be happy to walk away with all my fingers."

That earned a chuckle from Coco, and nervous glances from my teammates. They followed anyway, either out of morbid curiosity or concern for my future well-being. I grabbed a scrap of paper and a pencil, and we walked towards the large bay door set at the outer wall of the workshop. Port was waiting there for us, holding the smaller door out to the gravel parking lot. Yang's bike was still sitting there, covered, as we walked out.

"Just out of curiosity-" I asked Port "What's the point of the bay doors? Doesn't seem like there are too many people here with vehicles."

"Hm, not so many this year." Port agreed "Though, normally, third year students try to find some means of transport aside from the airships. The shop is equipped with the tools to maintain most vehicles however, so it was deemed prudent to include a way for them to bring their work indoors. Though it is advised against spending too much of their time on such things."

"Neat, that at least explains the parking lot… So where is the firing range?"

Port chuckled "Right this way."

We followed Port around the side of the workshop, away from the parking lot down a small path. Walking to the edge of the Workshop's perimeter, we came to a part of the school I hadn't known was there. I'd never taken time to run the outer wall of the school in the past, but perhaps I should, just to make sure there wasn't something else I'd missed.

The range was better than anything you'd see in the Mojave. Most of them consisted of three cinder block walls, with vaguely humanoid dummies made of trash set in them. Good for if you needed to practice your marksmanship, while still having the right form to practice close quarters work. Nothing to truly brag about, but perfectly capable of getting the job done.

Beacon's firing range was something a bit more put together here. If calling it a firing range was even adequate. I'd have been alright with just a few basic targets and a mound of dirt. Instead, the firing range was a several yard clearing, split into two distinct portions. One of them was a large, open area, with what I could assume were training dummies set within. The dummies were well put together, or at least not outwardly made of trash, and appeared to be rigged in some manner. Judging by the shapes and sizes, they were probably meant to simulate Grimm. If not in mannerisms, then certainly form.

The other portion of the range looked more the part. A stretch of field with a wall at the far end for catching any missed rounds, a partition for the shooter at the closer one. Just like with the other portion of the range, there appeared to something automated about this one as well. Though just from a surface level look, I couldn't quite guess what.

We stepped up to the shooter's partition and I set my hand-loads on the counter, along with the paper and pencil.

"Nice set up." I said, looking down range "Should consider making it more visible."

"We do prefer that students spar to hone their skills." Port said matter-of-factly "However, we do also prefer that they do so with weapons they know to be in functioning order. This firing range, and the adjoined proving ground, are purely for testing purposes."

"Makes sense" I shrugged "-no good way of knowing if you've actually got something worthwhile until you can test it on something that fights back."

"Speaking of-"Blake chimed in, sardonic "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Nope." I snapped open my flare gun and slid the first shell in, one of the flash rounds. I looked to Port again "I don't mind shooting at the wall, but you got a better target I can use?"

"Of course." Port boomed, motioning to a console built in the partition's countertop. "You can access the range's target courses from the terminal."

"Courses?"

"Indeed, in case you are interested in a challenge."

"… Will keep that in mind."

I reached over to the console and scanned the options for a moment. There were a number of different options, as Port had stated. Most were given a name, and a brief line of pictures. Most of them looked to be miniature Grimm. Cool as it would be to give them a run though, I needed to make sure I wasn't going to kill myself trying first.

I cycled through the options until I found one that read 'Custom'. Which I had to assume was what it said, the option to set my own target. I selected it, and was shown another options list. This time consisting of Grimm types, and distances. Though the distance maxed out at just over fifty yards, and the Grimm available to me seemed limited compared to the other courses.

I selected a target, a Beowulf, and set the range to max distance. The size and target were less important in this case than just testing how far the round would travel, and how it detonated.

I heard machinery whir and click from the firing range and saw, in the distance, a steel plate rise up out of the ground. Painted and roughly shaped to mimic that of the target's namesake.

"The range is now set." Port explained "The target is set to fall should your weapon be capable of felling it."

"Hm, works for me, but I doubt I'm actually going to knock it over with either of these."

I picked up my flare gun and took aim down range, sighting the distant silhouette.

"…" I turned and looked at everyone one last time "You all might want to cover your ears."

Assuming the round worked as intended, there was liable to be a fairly deafening side-effect to it. I was tempted to tell them to step back too, but their auras would probably tank whatever explosion I might cause. Probably.

Without much complaint, both my teammates and CFVY raised their hands and plugged or covered their ears. Blake even flattening her bow against the top of her head, for the little good it would do.

Then there was Velvet, who lowered her rabbit ears down around the side of her head. Her hands clamping them tightly against her other ears.

"... Does that actually work?" I said, eyeing her

Velvet pondered for a moment, then shrugged as if to say 'Kinda?'.

"…" I chuckled, then shrugged myself. Whatever works.

I refocused my aim down range, drawing a bead dead center of the silhouette. Not easy, considering the flare gun didn't exactly have a bead. Don't think they'd ever been intended for use as long-distance weapons.

Or weapons for that matter, they'd been meant for emergency signals.

I cocked the hammer back, exhaled, and pulled the trigger.

My luck held, and the projectile left the flare gun with a pop. It traced brightly through the air, even by comparison to a normal flare, glowing a crisp yellow. I'm not quite sure how far the round traveled before it went off unfortunately. Not because I wasn't paying attention mind you, but because it went off spectacularly.

As in thunderously.

The projectile exploded in a burst of light, nearly three times as vibrant as any flash bang I'd ever used. It's blast booming almost louder than any I'd heard in recent memory, only falling shy of the divide's warheads or a mini-nuke. Given what it was made from, I'd have to compare it to standing beside a thunder clap.

Light seared my eyes through the goggles of my mask, and my ears erupted into a ring that'd shatter glass. Assuming they weren't just the death throes of my eardrums desperately trying to survive being flayed.

Too strong, definitely too strong.

My vision blurred and grew spotty as the ringing raced back and forth between my ears. I blinked quickly, trying to regain my senses. Hoping my little miscalculation hadn't made me deaf and blind on top of being dumb. One of those was already hard enough to deal with.

I turned to look at everyone in slow measured fashion. Mostly to make sure my impaired senses didn't land me off balance. It took a few moments for my vision to clear and the splotches of color to fade. But even through blurred and distorted vision, I could just make out how everyone else had faired. Notably: not well. Ruby looked about ready to claw her eyes out, screaming silently, while Weiss was practically doubled over on the ground. Yang and Blake were supporting each other. Or, more accurately, Yang was supporting Blake, blindly, who in turn was clasping at the top of her head fervently. She was clearly trying to keep up a mask of indifference, but pain was seeping through it like a poorly bandaged wound.

CFVY seemed to have fared better, if not by much. The giant, Yatsu, was grimacing and rubbing his eyes in a more subdued manner, compared to Ruby. He'd probably looked straight into the flash. Fox, blind as he was, didn't seem largely affected. He looked a little uncomfortable, so his ears might've caught a bit of something, but otherwise seemed alright. Coco, much like Blake, was trying to hide the fact she was in pain. Give her credit, she was doing a better job of it that Blake.

Too strong, but at least it worked.

The only one who came through the whole thing unscathed was Velvet. Her eyes scrunched shut and hands firmly clasped against both sets of ears. The fact it had worked at all would've been amusing, if it didn't hurt trying to keep my eyes open.

As my vision cleared, I watched her ease open her eyes and let her hands off her ears. She looked around at her teammates and mine, before reaching out to Coco, voice muted by the ringing in my ears. Coco acknowledged her though, nodding, motioning. Velvet repeated the action to Yatsu and Fox as well. Yatsu blinked, nodding, then patting her on the head appreciatively. When she asked Fox, he just gave a coy smirk. Velvet puffed her cheeks up, before exhaling and looking at me.

"Are you ok?" she asked, voice soft and distant through the ringing.

"Think so." I said, resisting the urge to shout so I could hear my own voice "You?"

"Fine." She nodded.

I focused for a second more, giving my ears a moment to clear themselves. Maybe it was my aura, maybe it practice, or maybe it was a side effect of being Solar Powered, but they were clearing quicker.

I turned to my teammates. "You girls ok?"

Ruby and Blake were still busy recovering, but Yang and Weiss gave me looks that'd melt steel and scare ghouls.

"… Yeah, not ok."

"Whyyy!?" Ruby shouted from behind her hands.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know it would be that loud." I said, honest. How was I supposed to know it'd be that powerful? I wasn't the Dust expert.

"Did it at least work as intended?" Port boomed, picking at his ear with a pinky.

"I'd say it di-"

"WHAT?"

"I'd say it did, yeah!" I shouted.

"Ah, good."

I shook my head and, having found my balance, set my flare gun down and walked over to Blake and Yang. My blonde teammate eyed me dangerously as Blake slowly regained control over herself. Slowly reopening her eyes. Grimacing when she saw me.

"Seems your eyesight's fine." I said, raising a hand beside her head. Her eyes followed, half filled with confusion and annoyance.

Before she could ask anything, I snapped my fingers twice, beside her visible ear. It twitched involuntarily, as did her bow. I shifted around to the other side of her head and repeated it, getting a similar reaction. No immediate damage it would seem.

"You'll be fine." I said, lowering my hand "If the ringing persists, say something, it's a little early in your career to be dealing with tinnitus."

Blake glowered at me, before relaxing, turning to reassure Yang. I left them and walked over to Ruby, who'd finally taken her hands away from her eyes. I already knew she could hear me, so that just left her eyes. I stopped in front of her, and her gaze came up to me, which was a good sign.

"Why didn't you say it was going to be so bright?" she whined.

"I did, back when I made it." I said, raising a finger in front of her "Can you see this?"

Ruby blinked, then looked at my finger. Having her attention, I moved it from one edge of her vision to the other. First horizontally, then vertically, just to test acuity.

"Should be fine." I said, giving her a pat on the shoulder. "Like Blake, if something feels wrong, say it."

"… Jerk."

"So you're a doctor now?" Coco asked, irritably.

"Always have been." I answered.

"… Bull."

"…" I turned and looked at her for a moment. Noticing the way she had her hips cocked, and her shoulders canted slightly "You have mild curve scoliosis, but hide it behind a cocksure attitude and fanciful dress."

Coco blinked, baffled "What?"

"Honestly, I'm surprised you walk as easy in those lady stilts as you do. I suggest wearing a brace. Should help reduce the pain you're in, hopefully correct some damage too. Also, physical therapy to start rehabbing the atrophy to the afflicted muscle."

"…"

Coco didn't answer, she just stood there, continuing to look baffled.

People never believe the crazy mailman's a doctor until he's busy stitching them up. In all seriousness though, I hoped she'd take my advice about the brace. Aura might help strengthen you, but give it a few years and she'd probably have a harder time getting around comfortably.

It took a minute or two more, but everyone finished pulling themselves back together. Some of them kept glaring at me, but less in anger and more in irritation now. I walked back to the partition and settled against it. I took the scrap of paper and pencil, and scratched a few basic notes. Mostly about cutting back the amounts of dust in the projectiles. Wonderglue seemed to work perfect for the result I wanted. I turned back to face everyone as I finished. "If I knew it was going to backfire that horribly, I'd have asked you all to take a walk around the side of the building. For what it's worth, I'm sorry you all caught the back-blast."

"Not yet you're not." Coco said, having regained herself.

"Did you at least get what you needed?" Weiss huffed.

"Yeah, sorta." I admitted "Just gotta test the other one and we can move along."

"Other what?" Velvet asked.

"Different shell" I said, picking up my Flare Gun

Everyone began taking several steps back. Rather quickly at that.

"Oh relax." I said, opening the breech "It's just Ice this time."

That did not entice them to get any closer. Instead, keeping their respectably safe distance from myself and the partition. Pansies.

I loaded the round into the gun and turned towards the range, snapping the breech shut again. The target was still standing at the far end of the range, so at least I didn't have to reset anything. I aimed, exhaled, and pulled the trigger again.

There was a puff of cold air as the slug left the barrel this time, accompanied by super cooled water vapor. The projectile could just barely be seen to glow a faint blue, but it was hidden greatly. As it streaked through the air, it was ensconced in a thick web of dense vapor. Possibly condensed from the air around it.

It travelled only a few yards before detonating. The trailing cloud bursting into a haze before condensing into something more solid. A chunk of hail the size of an engine block fell out of the air and thumped messily across the ground, trundling to a stop just before the steel silhouette.

"… Hm, interesting."

I scribbled down the results on the paper. Making notes to test different binding agents. I pocketed the paper and remaining shells before turning back to everyone again.

They looked underwhelmed.

"Well that was anti-climactic." Yang said.

"Hey, they're not all supposed to explode. I'd say it was rather informative actually."

"What was that one supposed to do?" Velvet asked, eyeing the distant hunk of ice.

"Not a damn clue, didn't know what would happen until I tried it."

Velvet looked at me curiously, probably mentally evaluating my sanity. Little did she know it had long since been torn to shreds by this place.

I turned and looked at Coco. "So, training?"