The Airship sidled into its moorings, gently rocking me out of my nap.

I checked up and down the ship's passenger bay, finding myself largely alone. Made sense, this was the last trip for the night, the ship wouldn't be going back until the morning. The only people returning to Vale right now would be the ones that lived there, most of whom were either finding their way off the ship in tired fashion, or otherwise being ushered off by crewmen.

Reluctantly, I pulled myself from my seat and got moving. That nap was some of the only sleep I was probably going to get tonight. Shame it probably wasn't going to feel like enough.

I disembarked the ship, and began to walk out of the way station. The sun was most of the way set by now, and the city was starting to change for the night. Street lights were kicking on and neon signs filled window and sign posts over shops. A cool, summer night's wind began to cut the air as I walked outside. The humidity was still there, as it had been for most of the summer now, but I could manage with it, the Mojave could be worse.

The city's streets weren't filled with people like they had been. Whether that was during the day, or when I'd last made a nightly visit under my own initiative. There were people around for sure, wearing fancier clothes, or something more casual. Out to enjoy the evening, or themselves. But there were fewer of them than I remembered, and there was something more in the air.

Tension.

Something so tangible you could reach out and touch it. Like a spring, compressed and ready to fly at the slightest motion. It didn't take genius to figure out why either.

It's why I was there.

Whatever was going on in this city, where the police couldn't be bothered to look, it was festering. Getting ready to turn into something ugly. It was as much a feeling I couldn't shake, as it was my own assessment.

It would be a bit conceited of me to say it was up to me to stop it, but, well, clearly no one else was going to do fuck-all about it.

Somewhere in Vale, a certain flame-haired bastard was stirring up trouble. The simplest solution would be to find him and dump him in the ocean. Except I knew me, and I knew my luck. It was never that simple.

I looked down to my Pip-boy and scanned the markers on my map of Vale. None of them were close, centralized, or in any way 'easy' to get to. But I had all night, and I'm a fast walker.

When I want to be.

"Alright" I said to myself "Let's see what I can dig up."

…

"You are fulfilling your destiny, Joshua." Ruby spoke, her voiced pitched into a hiss "Join me, teach them your ways, and together, we shall rule these lands!"

The young huntresses and hunters in training of team RWBY and JNPR sat in rapt silence, save for a sole member. For JNPR and a sole member of team RWBY, the silence was one of awe and wonder. Brought about by the young leader of team RWBY, as she weaved them a tale of adventure, action, and family values.

As for the remaining huntresses of team RWBY however, their silence was one of incredulity. They had heard the tale once before. One of them finding a measure of amusement in their sibling's re-imagining of the events. The other wished for her partner to just tell the story properly.

"Yes, of course!" Ruby spoke again, her voice changing pitch to a grave bellow "I will teach them, show them all that I know."

"EXXXCELLENT~." Ruby hissed again "There is much you can do, Joshua… No, a new name, you are in need of a new name." A dark smile creased Ruby's face "Hence forth you shall be known as… Malpais Legatus. Envoy of the Badlands."

A snort escaped from Yang, shattering the mood her younger sibling had been working to foster. She soon followed it with uproarious laughter.

"W-what's so funny?" Ruby asked, forgoing the voices she'd been using.

"Yeah, what's so funny?" Nora intoned giving the blonde brawler an interrogative glare.

"Well Nora-" Pyrrha spoke up "The story so far has been a bit…"

"Hammy?" Ren offered.

"I was going to say theatrical." Pyrrha answered, nodding.

"But it was awesome!" Nora continued shouting "The sword fights! The Chases! The Music!"

"…There wasn't any music." Blake broke in, confused.

"Don't *heh* forget the motorcycle race through the *snrk* canyon." Yang added, trying in vain to quell her laughter.

"Yeah!" Nora hooted "That was awesome! With the crashing, and the dodging, and the-"

"That is NOT how it went!" Weiss spoke, visibly incensed.

"…It's not!?" Nora squawked "But… but the sword fights… The motorcycles…"

"The original story didn't last any longer than ten minutes!" The heiress ground out, turning her gaze to Ruby "Why are you doing this!?"

"... Because I wanted to spice it up." Ruby shrugged, embarrassed "The one six told us was… boring. It needed more fighting and drama!"

"And less a lesson about how you were being a judgmental princess." Yang added, smirking.

The heiress turned then to glare at her blonde compatriot. Making no effort to hide her displeasure. "It was a good story on its own. It had a moral, and carried history with it."

"It was also boring." The blonde brawler said, echoing her sister "Personally, I'm liking Ruby's version more."

"Plus, I haven't changed anything." Ruby said, defensively "Everything's more or less the same, I just… added things to make it less boring."

"Well, I like it so far." Jaune muttered.

"So-" Blake said, trying to get at the heart of things. "Aside from everything you've added, how much of it is true?"

"Um… all of it, I think." Ruby answered, unsure "Six only said it was a story, but with everything he's told us, it should all be true."

"Except for the motorcycle race." Nora said sadly.

"Just to ensure you're all following then:" Weiss said "Wasteland, Mor-mons, missionary, no swordfights, Caesar. Any questions?"

"… Was Jo-Jo real?" Nora asked, hopeful.

"…" The heiress looked to her partner "Please stop adding unnecessary things."

"… me-sa no promise." Ruby said, smiling unapologetically.

…

The sky was pitch by the time I'd made my way to the first bar Yang'd marked. It was on the outer most stretch of Vale's commercial district, at the coastline. It was set right off the beach, separated by a twenty to thirty-foot drop, and some stairs, giving a nice view of the horizon to anybody looking to imbibe. Things were lively there. The streets were well lit, and abuzz with evening activity. Dining, drinking, music, and the usual merriment one might find in places like this. It probably helped that there this was still the long-winded build up to the Vytal Festival. People were probably using the time now to gauge how heavy business was going to be come then.

Or they were just looking for some extra dough, who knows.

In either regard, the city was slipping into a livelier air. The tension was still there, but it was charged now. Hinted as much with life as it was with danger. A nice accompaniment to booze, if you can stomach it.

The place Yang had sent me to was some hole-in-the-wall called the 'Crow Bar'. I'm certain there was some joke to its name, but it was lost on me. Beyond that, it was an odd place. A single, almost garage like room that spilled out onto the street. There was no door, or front wall, but I did note the tracks necessary for a bay door or shutter. The entire thing was set on a slope as well. The bar being at the far wall to the street, at the peak of it. The various tables and stools that filled it having legs cut and angled to still be upright despite the malevolently built structure. I could only imagine how much of a bitch it was to try and walk around after you got good and drunk. The engineer who built it was clearly overpaid, and a complete ass on top of that.

Still better than the Atomic Wrangler though.

Perhaps mercifully most of the bar's furnishings, and occupants, were spilled out onto the street, where things were even keeled and you only had a moderate risk of falling into oncoming traffic. The majority of people attending the bar chose to stay out there, from what I noted. Couldn't blame them. It wasn't a packed place but, despite its poor architecture, it seemed to have a fairly sizable crowd. Most of whom didn't appear to be bothered by the floor's less than ideal slope.

I weaved my way through the crowd and began working my way towards the back, keeping my eyes open. After everything that'd happened recently, being aware of my surrounding's was top priority aside from the obvious. If I was going to play it smart, that meant making sure I wasn't going to catch a knife between the ribs mid-sentence. From the crowd though, there weren't many I'd peg as being troublesome. A group off in a lower corner, playing five finger fillet. A couple sitting at a table on the slope, giving each other the come-hither looks only a fistful of shots could produce. A few, formally dressed, individuals lingering at the bar, clearly taking the day's edge off.

Most people were here to enjoy themselves it seemed.

Shame I wasn't one of them.

I climbed the slope up to the bar and found a spot to lean next to some guy with a spider tattoo on his neck. The bartender, and the other bar-flies for that matter, gave me odd looks. Not that I cared much. I was here on business, not pleasure. It took the bartender a moment of staring before they finally decided to be a gracious host and approach me. He was a younger looking man, dressed in an outfit I'd wager wouldn't look out of place in a pre-war western. Sharp shirt with puffy sleeves, rolled up, a vest and bowtie, even a thick moustache on his upper lip to complete the look. Only thing he was missing was a set of spectacles and a tinny piano in the background.

"Can I help you?" The bartender asked, voice smooth, though I noted he was eyeing my weapons warily

"That's what I'm here to find out." I answered back.

The bartender nodded, giving me an oblique look. "You- uh, sound a little young to be here."

"Mm." I grunted, not really agreeing "S'why I'm not asking for whisky. Soda and lime, with a straw, if you would."

The bartender nodded, and began reaching under the counter. "You want that club or tonic?"

I'd never heard of tonic soda before, the Mojave only had a few 'soft' beverages to work from. "… I'll give tonic a try."

The bartender nodded and began pulling ingredients from behind the bar. Limes, a bottle of clear soda, Ice, syrup, the necessities for an otherwise simple mixed drink.

I shifted my gaze to the corner of the upper left corner of the ceiling. A holographic display showing a broadcast of the 'news'. A purple haired woman speaking and gesturing to a still image beside her. The broadcast was muted, but the ticker at the bottom and the still image gave a good idea of the topic. A mugshot of Torchwick, The White Fang's insignia, and the phrase 'Dust robberies declining, but no suspects found: police say'.

"Things are getting crazy out there, aren't they?" I asked, choosing to play dumb.

"Crazier all the time." The bartender answered, nonchalant.

"Makes you wonder why the cops aren't doing anything about it."

"Hmph, probably have enough on their hands with the Vytal Festival." The bartender said idly.

I nodded, watching as the bartender quickly mixed my drink. "I'm sure it doesn't help, but man, you'd think they'd have gotten their acts together, eh?"

The bartender looked up to me for a moment, brow raised. He didn't even look as he threw the few ingredients together and stirred the drink. He stuck a wheel of lime to the rim of the glass and passed it too me, stabbing a thin black straw into it.

"Tonic and lime, ginger syrup." The bartender said, eyeing me.

Defying whatever expectation he probably had, I opened the feed hole in my mask and slid the straw in. The drink was good. Would've been better with rum, but I knew better than to ask.

"… 's good." I nodded, sliding a few lien forward. The bartender took them and slid them behind the counter. I stayed there a little longer, nursing my drink as the bartender moved on to the other patrons. Though his eyes seemed to keep me in their peripherals, and I noticed his gaze shift to me fully more than once. For my part, I was only paying him half of my attention. The rest was divided between the bar around me, and the broadcast.

"… There something else I can help you with." The bartender finally asked.

"Depends" I shrugged.

"On what?" The bartender asked, giving me a flat look.

"What you've heard about what's going on."

"…" The bartender paused and turned to look at me fully, sliding another drink to a waiting patron. "kid, what do you want?" The bartender asked, dropping the amiable air he'd had up until then.

I wasn't too keen on being called 'kid' but I rolled with it. "Information."

The bartender looked at me skeptically. "… First off, you're in the wrong place. Second, what makes you think I've got anything worth telling, much less to some random kid?"

"Simple, you're a bartender." I said, smooth "Of all people to know what's going on in a city, the only things that'd know better than you are the rats."

The metaphorical and literal ones.

The bartender stared me down for a moment, then shook his head and gave a derisive chuckle. "Well, you're not wrong, but kid, I think you missed something."

"That being?" I asked, secretly ready for things to take a turn.

The bartender motioned around to the bar. "Does this look like the kind of place catering to the less than legal side of the city?"

I gave the bar another overview. Clean features, good lighting, friendly atmosphere, and what appeared to be, by all account, above board clientele.

It was certainly a nicer place than Junior's.

"… point." I admitted "But looks can be deceiving."

"… We're in one of the higher-end portions of Vale." The bartender deadpanned "Cops patrol this place daily, for all the good it does. Heck, most of my clientele are cops." As if to exemplify that, he jerked his thumb to a picture on the back wall of the bar. It was of a good few dozen uniformed officers I could only assume were the local branch of the VPD. "The most info I can give you is gossip about who's screwin' who. This is a beach bar, kid."

I fell silent for a moment, absently sipping my drink. He'd made a very valid point. This was the wrong portion of the right area of the city to find what I was looking for. "… I've made a mistake." I admitted.

The bartender nodded. "You want some advice, try some of the places deeper into the district. You'll probably have better luck there." The bartender gave me a smirk "Or you could try hanging out with the 'rats'. The alleys are always open."

"Very funny." I growled.

"Hmph, were you just expecting to walk into a bar and immediately find something?"

I went to say something, but never got the chance.

Outside the bar, a car went racing past the entrance, nearly careening onto the pavement. I didn't get a good look at it before it passed, but the wail of a siren was impossible not to notice. It was a police car.

It took only a moment for me to register what it was, before I was immediately in motion.

"You're right" I called to the bartender, flicking a Denarii into his tip jar "Hanging out with the rats helped."

I practically flew down the incline of the bar, and stumbled out into the crowd immediately outside its entrance. I could see the lights of the police cruiser continuing to fly down the avenue before turning off onto a side street. I pushed through the crowd and took off after it. I'm quick on my feet, but I have no illusions about it. I knew there was no way in hell I was outpacing a moving vehicle.

I could outmaneuver it though.

I cut down an alley, keeping my hearing sharp on the siren. I'd already lost sight of the cruiser, so I kept hold on the one thing I still had. It wasn't easy, the sound bounced and echoed off the buildings like tuning forks. But I could keep a rough direction. There was no telling what I was really running towards. Though given the reason I was there to begin with, there were only a few guesses. Even if I was wrong, I'd already run into one dead end anyway.

I sprinted down the alley, turned a corner, and vaulted over a chain-link fence. I didn't have the best mental map of Vale, yet. I had a copy of one, but I didn't have time to stop and read it. The most experience I'd had actually navigating the city came from trying to track Blake down for a day. But I could've had a worse time of it. The siren stayed within earshot, so I could practice my path finding skills while racing against the machine.

That lasted until the siren cut out at least.

I'd bolted out into the middle of traffic when it'd happened. Cutting across the street so I could more readily make the next turn. Then the siren died away and I was left chasing echoes. I had my heading though, and could keep it easily enough for the moment.

I heard the gunshots as I rounded the corner of the street.

They were distant. A staccato of sharp barks dulled by the distance and buildings. Uneven, irregular, an exchange.

I cursed under my breath and pulled That Gun from my hip, keeping my aim down.

I continued following the shots for a stretch longer. The gunfire ringing sharper, concentrated.

I dipped down an alley, the gunfire around one final corner.

The staccato turned to a legato.

Right as I was to round the corner, there was a scream, and a storm of lead flew down the conjoined alley. Colliding and splattering against a nearby wall, stone and splatter pelting me, but not breaking my armor. A scream distant under the funnel of gunfire.

A final shot ricocheted off the wall, narrowly missing me. Then silence fell.

I didn't have much time to wait, so I dipped my head out of cover. Taking the chance on getting shot in favor of figuring out what I was rushing into.

Down the alley, parked in the middle of the street, was the cruiser. Its doors were open and windows blasted out. Likely caused by the hail of gunfire that'd riddled the rest of the vehicle that I could see. Just as it had likely riddled the cops.

On the side of the car I could see, huddled on the ground, was a uniformed individual. I couldn't really note the specifics of the uniform, but their proximity to the cruiser pretty much spelled out what they were. Given the splotches of crimson I could see though, I could gather that if they had an aura it was already shattered.

The officer stayed prone for a moment, then their head swiveled up towards the alley. Given the distance, I still couldn't tell what, but something was wrong with their face. I could see the crimson easy enough. They began slowly trying to drag themselves away from the cruiser, their movements struggled and labored.

I shifted my gaze up and away from the officer, staring past the cruiser.

A White Fang grunt was walking towards the far side of the cruiser. There wasn't anything distinguishing to him. He wore the same tunic, hood, and mask combo as the same grunts that'd attacked the docks. Though I got the impression that was more the standard outfit than anything. What wasn't standard was the weapon they were carrying. It looked like the bastardized love child between an assault rifle and a machinegun.

The grunt walked to the far side of the cruiser, turned, and stopped. Though the car majorly obscured my view, I could see well enough that he'd planted his foot on something. I could just barely see the grin that crossed his face. Something mean and dirty that made me want to take a swipe at him.

Then he lowered his weapon, pointing it at the ground.

A trio of barks rang out, sharp, loud.

For a moment, I could see something cross the wounded officer's face. Something pained, sorrowful.

But even as it registered to the officer, the grunt was already moving already the car. Slow, predatory.

I bit back a curse and crouched down, making myself stealthy and small. I proceeded down the alley, slowly. There wasn't much for cover, so I made myself one with the shadows. Sticking to them as I tried to close the distance. I was about ten feet from the mouth of the alley before stopping. If I left too early, I'd lose the element of surprise. I didn't know what situation I was getting myself into, but I knew enough.

As I got into position, I got a better look at the officer. They were a woman, young. If I had to honestly guess, they were a rookie. If this was her first day on the job, then it was one hell of a wake-up call.

Her uniform was simple, buttons and pleats in shades of blue and grey. A brassy shield on the corner of her chest. Any of it that wasn't, was stained crimson.

Blood ran down her face from somewhere up in her scalp. Causing her hair to clump and cling to her in bloody stands.

Her eyes were scrunched tight. As though she were actively trying to keep them shut. Something told me I didn't want to know why.

The grunt finished his little circuit around the cruiser. Stalking slowly up to the officer as she tried to drag herself to the alley. She probably didn't even know it was there, she was just trying to get away. But I could tell she was registering the grunt approaching her. She tried to defend herself. Her hand snaked down to a holster at her side and drew her sidearm, flipping herself over as she did so. She might've been able to get a few shots off, if she was lucky.

But then, she only tried.

She'd been too slow.

The grunt cleared the rest of the distance to her in a blink, kicking the gun out of her hands before stomping on her ribcage. The officer cried out, only to receive another kick to the ribs for her troubles.

The grunt was enjoying himself.

He reached down and grabbed the officer by the collar. She tried to react, but he just slammed her into the ground. Without an aura, she'd have felt all of it. The officer went limp, dazed. The grunt began dragging her back to the car, turning away from the alley.

I could feel my blood boiling.

He dragged the officer back to the cruiser as I began creeping from the alley. I picked up the officer's sidearm as I went, placing That Gun back in my holster.

"You humans think you're in charge, but you're not." I heard the grunt growl, voice pitched "Think you can make the rules, keep 'em when they suit you."

He threw the officer against the side of the cruiser, sitting her upright. She was too dazed to be coherent yet. Right as the officer regained enough of herself, the thug stuck the barrel of his rifle to the side of her head. She froze.

"It's our time now." The grunt growled "'Night, bitch."

There was a moment's silence before he pulled the trigger

He shouldn't have hesitated.

I leapt from the shadows, silent as the wind. I brought a leg up and kicked the grunt's gun upward. The barrel lurched a foot above the officer's head before going off, a spray of bullets sailing off into the sky. The officer yelped and flopped to her side covering her head.

The grunt, on the other hand, struggled to get a handle on his weapon. The recoil causing the gun to continue rising higher with each successive shot.

I wasn't going to give him the chance though.

As the grunt struggled to try and control his fire, he had all of a second to realize what was going on. Then I laid into him. I punched him hard in the side of the head, knocking him further off balance. I could tell it didn't hurt as much as it should have. His aura dulled it.

It just gave me a reason to hit harder.

He managed to stop firing wildly, but was no closer to actually controlling his gun. He began turning to look at me, and I punched him again, harder. This time he shifted, slamming into the side of the cruiser. He tried to bring his weapon around to me, but it wasn't happening. I knocked the arm wielding it up against the side of the vehicle and followed it with a knee to the groin.

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Presumably on instinct, a set of claws popped out of the grunt's finger tips. He tried to make a swipe at me with his free hand, but I blocked it with my forearm. Connecting with his to avoid damaging my already flimsy aura. My other arm flicked out, crashing into the grunt's throat.

His grip on his weapon faltered, so I struck his arm again. It clattered to the ground as the grunt went to make another swipe at me, rasping and coughing. I slipped it, punching him in the face again. This time he felt it, as he fell back against the cruiser again. I wasn't letting him recover. As he stood dazed, making feeble swipes at me, I swung back at him, hitting to keep him off balance, unable to properly retaliate. He tried to pull his arms up in a guard, and I let him. While he was busy covering his head, the rest of him was open. I punched him in the ribs once, twice.

He made another swipe at me, throwing his weight behind it.

I sidestepped it, and let him fly forward, off balance. He stumbled to the ground and tried to scramble back to his feet.

I pulled out my cattle prod and jammed the electrode into the back of his neck.

His hood stopped me from getting a clean hit, but I was close enough. His body tensed, and a howl of pain escaped him.

I reeled back, cranked the output to maximum, and brought the prod down on him like a hammer. The grunt tensed a second time, harder, more painfully.

His aura shattered around him, and a gurgling howl escaped him as the cattle prod's full power struck home.

I reeled back the cattle prod, and brought a hammer fist down on the back of his skull. The grunt's head bounced off the pavement like a ball, and they went still. I didn't give much of a fuck right then if they were dead or not.

"'Night, Bitch." I spat, giving the grunt a kick in the ribs for good measure.

I immediately ducked down, using the cruiser for cover. The fact that I hadn't immediately hadn't come under fire meant I hadn't been noticed by any more trouble. But that didn't mean there was only one hostile. There was always more than one.

While dipping into cover, I turned to look at the officer. She was sprawled on the ground, head frantically whipping back and forth clearly listening for trouble.

"… It's ok" I said after a moment "He's down, you're safe."

The officer looked unsure, but I didn't exactly have time to work on my bedside manner. I peered through the blown-out windows of the cruiser, finally seeing more of what was actually going on. On the opposite side of the street was a brick building. Windows shattered and doors crudely smashed off their hinges. Given the past few weeks, I had to assume it was another Dust shop. With the cops patrolling the area like they were, someone must've called it in.

I turned back to look at the officer again. She was scrambling to find herself, still wounded and eyes shut tight.

"I'm going to sit you up, alright?" I said, not particularly waiting for a response.

The officer gave a yelp as I grabbed them by their collar and ease them back up against the cruiser. One of their arms flailed out and struck me, but it was haphazard, not enough to hurt.

"Easy." I growled "I'm on your side."

I set the officer right and she calmed down, a hand planted on the ground to keep her upright. I could see her trying to work up some courage. Good, she was going to need it.

I peered out through the cruiser again, eyeing the building. "You know if there's anyone else inside?"

The officer remained silent.

I turned to look at her again. "I don't have a lot of time here, and if I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't have bothered stopping the other guy. If you can, tell me what I'm walking into, or more people are going to get hurt."

Namely myself.

The officer hardened her resolve, taking a deep breath. "… my partner, is he ok?"

I paused for a moment. "… I don't know." I answered, honest "If he was the one on the other side of the car, I don't think he's here anymore… I'm sorry."

The officer's face turned sour, another deep breath. "… We got a call that someone tripped the alarm." She said "We were the closest ones in the area, we were only supposed to check and call in if it was worse…"

The officer began shrinking in on herself, shaking a little.

Tonight had officially gone to shit.

"… I'm not trying to be cold." I said, trying to be as soothing as possible "But I need to know how many there are."

Silence stretched for a spell, then the officer's face hardened, anger evident.

"Five." She growled, a choked sound "… We saw them all before they went in…"

Her hands balled and began shaking. It was enough.

I reached out and gently grabbed the officer's hand, placing her sidearm back into it. She latched onto it like a child holding their teddy bear.

"I'm going in." I said, calm "If you can call back-up, do it. Everything's going to be ok. I promise."

Without another word I slipped away from the officer, moving around the front of the vehicle. I peered around it; at the building I was moving toward. Checking to see if they'd left a lookout. Far as I could tell though, I'd already taken him out. I started around the side of the vehicle at a silent sprint. Passing by the far side of the vehicle, I took note of the crimson pool forming around the driver's side.

I should have been faster.

I cleared the street and threw myself against the brick wall of the building. I clung to it as I crept towards the door, keeping my hearing sharp.

It was muffled, given how acoustics works, but I could hear voices beyond the wall, hurried, but not at all hushed. They weren't worried about not being seen. If they were, they wouldn't have lit up a squad car in the middle of the night.

"Hurry u… coming."

"Calm, Iro… pposed to be."

"… ere's Mosse?"

"… -ing pigs, how muc…"

I chanced a peek through on of the broken windows, looking to get a lay of the land. The lights were out, given this place appeared to be closed for the night. Leaving the interior of the building cast in shadows, something that wasn't going to be enough to stop my helmet's nightvision. Or the White Fang's own natural nightvision, for that matter.

Despite that, I wasn't expecting what I saw.

I didn't have too much familiarity with dust shops. But from my understanding they were supposed to have, well, dust. Either kept in large crystal form, powdered, ready to use, or in similar fashion. All depending on how a person used it.

This shop didn't have that.

In fact, it didn't have any of that.

There were no display cases, no tubes of powdered dust, no cartridges, and not even so much as a speck to be seen. The entire room had a much more 'official' air. There was one long counter at one side of the room, and a small set of cubicles off towards the other. The air, even though the filters, smelled of paper and ink.

The hell was this place?

Unfortunately I didn't have time to think on it. Assuming the cop did call back up, I only had a small window. Even if she didn't, these guys weren't going to wait around all night for me.

Rather than keep making for the door, I opted to go through on of the broken windows. One that broke line of sight between me and the White Fang. They'd see and hear me plain as day if I came straight at them, lucky bastards. That just meant I needed to take it a different approach.

Once inside, I began a slow loop around the cubicles keeping just out of sight. The White Fang weren't moving. They seemed intent to stay huddled where they were.

I peered out from around the Cubicles at where the White Fang was huddled. Two of them had turned to watch the way in, while a third seemed to be focused on the wall behind them, and the fourth supervised the third.

"How much longer, Bile?" The fourth asked.

"Keep asking." The third, Bile, growled "You try wiring lightning dust in sequence without melting your fingers."

"That's what you're here for." The fourth smirked.

"I don't like it, Cork." Two said "Mosse's taking a while to get back."

"Relax, Irons, he's doing his job." The fourth, apparently Cork, spoke "If you've got a problem, you and Rust can go check. But if we don't do this, Bane's gonna hang our asses over the mantle."

One and two, or Rust and Irons I guess, shared a look but didn't move.

The name Bane did ring a bell or two though. I think Tukson or Blake had mentioned him. Regardless, he didn't immediately factor into the present situation.

I continued peering at them from my spot by the cubicles, trying to get an angle on what exactly they were doing. This place wasn't a Dust shop, that much I'd piece together. It was more like an office than any kind of store I was familiar with. I glanced around the cubicle nearest me for an idea of just where I was standing. There clearly had to be a reason why the White Fang was here.

I found from an unexpected source: A coffee mug.

A simple logo was painted on it.

Vale Municipal Trust and Loan

This… this was a bank.

The hell were the White Fang doing robbing a bank?

It was a question I wasn't going to get a quick answer to. Right about then, 'Bile' finished whatever he was doing at the door and quickly stepped away from it. Urging his cohorts to do the same. He then took out a scroll, tapping quickly at its screen.

There was a flash of light then, brighter than the sun. It was followed by an electrical hiss and the smell of hot iron.

Then there was groaning, as a portion of the wall fell forward. It was a steel door, easily five inches thick, its hinges and mechanisms melted to slag, glowing white in my nightvision.

Cork's mouth stretched into a wide smile.

"Alright then!" He belted "Bile, get the van pulled around front, and check on Mosse. Irons, Rust, help me get the Money bagged."

Before anyone could do anything though, they froze. I could, faintly, hear why. There were pitched sirens in the distance. Either the officer had successfully called back-up, or more units were beginning to make their way regardless. Normally, for a group that operated on 'smash and grab' like the White Fang had, that'd be the sign to cut their losses and run.

Except, that's when I heard something else I wasn't expecting.

"Cops are almost here." Cork grinned "Remember boys, lots of noise."

A feeling of unease settled into my stomach with that. Absolutely nothing that was happening right now lined up with what I'd understood about the White Fang. They were a group intent on covertly sowing discord and stealing every speck of dust not nailed down. Now they were trying to rob a bank, and get into otherwise open warfare with the cops.

I was missing something, but one fact was very clear to me in that instant:

These assholes were about to open fire on a whole lot of people who, from every shred of evidence I'd seen, were about as inept at their jobs as Fantastic was.

That wasn't going to fly. Enough people had died tonight.

Without another word, the White Fang split. Irons, Rust, and Cork moving into the vault, while Bile turned and made for the door. He didn't strike me as the most combat-ready of the group.

Hence, he was the first to go. Just to make sure that fact didn't change.

As he made his way for the door, I looped back around the cubicles the way I came. Silently running as fast as I could to cover the extra ground. I rounded the corner of the front wall right as Bile was about to reach the door.

I broke stealth and threw myself at Bile, Cattle Prod drawn.

His head turned to me as I got close, likely hearing my footsteps.

I tackled him right before he could reach the door, dragging him past it and towards the counter. He hadn't been expecting to get blindsided. I slammed his head into the counter and toppled over it with him in a noisy heap. That was sure to get their attention.

Bile scrambled to try and recover, but I was on him instantly. I pinned his back to the floor and cranked the wattage on my Prod.

He opened his mouth to shout.

I jammed the prod in.

Whatever he was going to say was drowned out by a high-pitched squeal as he began convulsing on the floor, the current bypassing his aura.

I don't know how long I held him there, but I know it was long enough. By the time I ripped the Prod out, his body had willfully gone limp and stayed that way.

He wasn't dead, but I'd fried him good.

I rolled off of him and put my Prod back at my hip, taking cover behind the counter.

"… Bile?" Cork called "You ok out there?"

I heard footsteps over by the vault, sounding as though they were approaching where I'd hit Bile.

"… Irons, Rust, on me." Cork said, and I could hear the shuffling of equipment.

"But Cork-" one of the other two began to say, couldn't tell which.

"The money's second." Cork snapped "Remember: We're not getting back-up. If something's fubar, we deal with it and run."

Their steps were getting closer. I made a conscious effort to move towards them in tandem, head low, counter for cover. Once I was past them, I could move to another angle.

"Tell that to Mosse" one of the two spoke again "-he's the one that owes Xiong all that lien for that rifle of his."

"Well that was a stupid move on his part." Cork barked again "Besides, after what happened to his little 'man-cave', I don't think Xiong's in any shape to be demanding anything."

"Yeah" A third voice spoke up "How the hell do you get more than fifty men killed in a single bar fight. What'd he say the fucker's name that did it was?"

"… Crazy Steve." Cork said, sounding like he wanted to laugh.

"Exactly, how the fuck do you lose fifty of your best guys to somebody named-"

"Holy shit, Bile!"

I took that as my cue. I slid over the counter top as silently as I could. I touched the opposing side and rolled deeper into the shadows, watching intently.

The three remaining grunts began to move towards Bile. Huddling around him like vultures.

"… ok, not good." Cork growled, clearly able to assess the situation "We're not alone, there's a rat among us… Rust, pick up Bile and move him to the van. Irons, go find Mosse."

"You sure?" Irons asked.

"We can do this without Bile." Cork answered "But that means Mosse is going to need to earn his share… and I think Bile was right. He is taking too long."

With the new orders given, I could see they were beginning to get into motion. Which was bad, if Mosse was who I thought he was, and was where I left him. That meant the officer was about to get pulled back into the line of fire.

I wasn't letting that happen.

Which didn't leave me a lot of options. If I went back into the street, I was losing what little cover the darkness offered to me. Once my cover was gone, brute force was going to be the only way out. No way was I going to get it back in such close quarters. After the last time I had a run-in with the White Fang, I'd rather avoid a direct confrontation. But, if I let them split up, I would stand a better chance at handling all of them. Even if it ran the risk of someone else's grievous, if not fatal, injury.

Which meant I needed to try and control things now.

I reached into one of the nearby cubicles, fumbling around for something small and fragile.

I grabbed a coffee mug.

Muggy would be upset if he knew what I was about to do.

Head peeked out from the cover of the cubicles; I took aim at a spot just of the counter. Not too far from Cork, but out of sight enough he and his grunts would keep looking.

I tossed the mug, hearing it shatter on the far side of the room. They turned to look in the direction of it, and I began formulating a plan for who was next. Even if Rust took Bile back out to the van, if Cork had a brain like I thought he did then he would keep Irons with him to help search.

Cork stared for a moment at the area where the mug had landed, leaning past the counter to get a better look.

Rather than get behind the counter though, he proved he had a brain.

"… Rust, get Bile out to the van." Cork said, pulling a sub-machinegun around front of him. He motioned towards the end of the cubicles opposite of me. "Irons, start making a loop. Clearly someone thinks they're smarter than they are."

Clearly.

Rust grabbed his insensate pal and was out the door, completely de-railing my efforts. But I had more pressing issues, and let it slide. Irons shouldered a pump-action and began walking down the cubicles from me. Cork, on the other hand, began approaching where I was currently crouching. Rather than stand there and wait for him to find me, I quietly moved into one of the nearby Cubicles. I couldn't make the loop, I'd literally be boxing myself in. My only option was going to be to try and get around Cork.

But I'd learned from my previous fight with the White Fang.

Rather than just stand in the cubicle openly, I ducked in cover behind the desk. Assuming he didn't think to look in too thoroughly, I should've been covered enough.

Curled underneath the desk, I went quiet and listened. The floor was carpeted where I was, muffling the sound of footsteps ever so slightly. Perhaps both to my aid and detriment.

I didn't hear Cork until he was almost on top of me.

I heard his footsteps stop at my cubicle, faintly huffing the air. Perhaps sniffing for me? Faunus did have sharper senses, what if he could smell that I was still there?

What if he could hear me breathing?

'…'

I silently inhaled and held it. I was not about to take a chance and become literal fish in a barrel for him to shoot.

A moment passed. Then two. Then three.

I heard Cork shift his sub-machine gun, and continue walking. I didn't have time to wait long. I gave him a breadth of maybe five, ten feet, max.

Then I surged after him.

I left the cubicle at the time was about to round the corner of the cubicles facing the outer wall. I didn't bother trying to stay quiet as I charged him.

Naturally, due to his above average hearing, he heard me coming. Not that it did him any good.

His head snapped around to face me before the rest of him did. By the time he got his gun around and pointed at me, it was too late. I butted it the side with my forearm and slammed into him. Catching him off balance and driving him backwards into the exterior wall.

He struggled for a moment to get the gun around to me again, but I punched him in the face. With the backing of the wall, he had no choice but to take the full brunt of it, because I sure wasn't letting him dodge. The impact rattled him, but I grabbed him by his mask and slammed his head a second time to be sure. He bounced off the wall with the second hit, and I used it to throw him to the floor. I fell with him, drawing back my cattle Prod once more, jamming it into his spine. His body tensed as the electricity flowed through him. I held him there for several seconds.

"CORK!"

Right up until Irons joined us.

He rounded the far corner at a dead sprint, Shotgun at the ready. He stopped when he saw us. At the distance we were, I couldn't be sure, but I could've sworn I saw unease flicker through him. He could probably see me just fine in the darkened bank, but my lenses glow red when the nightvision's on. It was probably disconcerting, though it didn't stop him long.

The moment he moved to shoot, I rolled off of Cork, and back around the corner. Thunder boomed in the tight quarters of the bank, the shot spraying concrete and stone off of the wall it collided with.

I came to my feet with a fluid motion, lowering the output of my Prod so I didn't shock myself mid-run. I sprinted straight ahead, clearing the cloche of cubicles and empty space, before diving over the teller's counter again.

Even with his footsteps muffled and the ringing in my ears, I could hear Irons rounding the corner to Cork. I didn't bother looking though, I just kept moving, creeping back along the counter towards the entrance. I had no clue whether or not I'd lost him yet.

The fact that the portion of counter I'd leapt over was almost immediately blown apart after I'd left it was an indicator that I nearly hadn't. I could hear my heart thundering in tandem with the gunfire. That'd been too close.

"…RUST!" Irons shouted "Rust, get back in here, Cork's down!"

I kept moving back towards the door, keeping cover as I drew closer to the door. I didn't have a plan at this point. Just the knowledge that there were only two of these clowns left. They weren't leaving.

Especially not when the cops were almost here.

I made it to the door about the same time Rust did, Myself covered only by a scant few inches of particle board and countertop. Readying my Prod once more.

"What do you mean Cork's down!?" Rust shouted, his voice higher than I would have thought "I can't find Mosse anywhere, we don't have ti-"

I leapt up from behind the counter, pouncing Rust like a hungry Gecko. I smacked him with my Prod, before slamming his face into the counter top. He let out a Yell, trying to escape my grasp as, I noticed, he tried to pull a handgun on me. I knocked the weapon aside, and it flew free from his grasp with a pained yelp. He made another wild swing at me, trying desperately to buy room for himself.

"Fuck- IRON-"

I caught him on the jaw with the electrode of my prod, and whatever he'd been trying to say devolved into an incoherent scream. I slammed his head into the counter and dragged him over it. He hit the ground on the other side with me. There was a brief moment where it seemed like he'd made a very poor series of decisions. I could only tell because he completely stopped fighting.

That was right before I stomped his head into the floor.

All the fight left him after that.

I stuck to the counter like a tumor and waited, listened. I could hear Irons running, coming around the corner near the vault door. His feet hit the linoleum, and I heard him stop.

"… Rust?" Irons called, his voice picking up a case of the shakes "…This ain't fuckin' funny man!"

I heard him rack his shotgun, and begin loading shells into it. Noticing the inkling of providence, I put my Prod away and took out a different weapon. I hadn't had much use for it so far, but I'd brought it tonight as a potentially more viable alternative to That Gun.

Now just proved to be the time to test something.

I loaded two magnum shells into my Lever-action shotgun before I heard Irons rack his closed again. I didn't risk closing the receiver and letting him get a fix on me. Instead, I began slowly creeping back towards him, still hidden by the counter. He in turn, approached me, albeit more noisily and oblivious to my current position.

"I know you're in here, asshole!" Irons shouted, sounding more scared than scary.

We continued slowly towards each other.

"You think you're hot shit, huh!?"

Closer, not much further.

"Think just because you can hide like a little bitch, you're better than us, huh!?"

We were right on top of each other now. I stopped, not wanting him to notice me.

"Do you have any idea who you're screwing with!?"

He continued past me by a foot.

I shot up, snapped the receiver shut, and jammed the barrel of the shotgun against the back of his head. Irons went ramrod straight, and I noticed his breathing hitch as the metal met his skin.

"Yes." I growled.

I pulled the trigger and watched Iron's fly forward. I wanted to see what kind of difference a magnum round at close range would have. Ruby had managed to eat two 12-gauge shells at point blank, and got up with little more than a headache to show for it. The distance was different, and a 20-gauge is leagues smaller than a 12, but it proved worthwhile. His aura ate the blast and shattered, but by a small miracle, it didn't look like it'd killed him.

Interesting.

Irons hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, and I let my ears ring as I ambled over the counter, watching carefully.

Irons didn't stir. I checked his pulse just to be safe, then took a moment to breathe.

Then I was reminded of the sirens.

I could practically hear the squeal of tires as the police rounded onto the street the bank was on.

I was out of time. There was no way in hell I was getting caught up in this mess.

But I couldn't leave empty handed.

As I heard car doors slam open, I bolted towards the back of the bank. I rounded to the cubicles and skidded to a stop over Cork. Out of everyone, he'd seemed the most put together. The most 'in the know' with why they were here tonight. If there was anything to be gleaned from this mess, I was going to get it here, and I was going to get it before the cops went and tossed it in storage as 'evidence'.

Evidence of their failings, more like.

I began ransacking Cork's person in a fashion I will wholeheartedly admit was practiced. It wasn't the first time I'd had to loot bodies while under fire. I wasn't looking for anything big though. He could keep his weapons, his ammo, and that ridiculous outfit. What I needed was smaller, something he could store information in, or on. I looked him over for notebooks, a personal journal, loose leaves of paper, anything really.

The only thing I found was his scroll. But that worked just fine. If I was going to get anything off of him, it would probably be from that.

As I looked down at Cork though, something nagged at the back of my mind. Aside from everything else going on, these guys had heard about 'Crazy Steve'. The motherfucker who assaulted Junior in his own home and killed fifty of his best men. For some reason, knowing that I had earned reputation with these guys set me on edge. It meant they were talking about me. As some sort of joke.

Question was: could I change their tone?

I wasn't proud of what I'd done, but I'd be damned if I didn't try and milk it for all the effect it was worth. Every little bit helps.

I snatched a scrap of paper and a pen from the nearest cubicle, scrawling a short message on it.

You're Welcome.

-Crazy Steve

'Perfect.'

I heard the footsteps entering the building as I dropped the note. There weren't many routes out from where I was, not unless I was willing to break another window.

So I unloaded a shell into the nearest window and dove through it, landing on the street.

They were going to have to replace them anyway, so what was the harm?

I heard shouts behind me, inside the building, but paid them no heed. I turned and ran down the adjacent street as fast as my feet could carry me. The cops and bank slowly disappearing into the night.

…

"YOU WERE THE CHO-SEN ONE!" Ruby crowed "You were to unite the wastes, not divide them! You were to claim the Dam for the Legion, Not leave it for the savages!"

Her teammates and friends sat in rapt silence. Watching her performance.

"You were my brother, Joshua." Ruby said, feigning a sob "I loved you… do it."

Silence fell among the hunters in training as Ruby pantomimed a struggle. Suggesting that the one she was referring to did not willfully accept what was happening to them.

"And so, they bound the Legate." Ruby said, her voice turning to a hiss "They bound him, covered him in… -um…"

"Pitch." Weiss provided, nonplussed.

"Yes, pitch… They covered him and lit him ablaze, before throwing him into a canyon… That, is where the real story-"

"Ok, stop."

The young huntress fell silent as her partner, leveled a sharp glare at her.

"I can't take this anymore." Weiss grated "You've spent the entire story embellishing it with things that never happened. I'm done listening, I'll be the one to finish it."

"Aw, but it was just getting good~" Nora whined.

"It's actually almost over." Yang said, sympathizing "Six said there was more, but the story ends not long after he survives being lit on fire and thrown off a cliff."

"… Are we sure Six's world doesn't have auras?

"He said they don't, so we can only assume so." Weiss said firmly "Now, can I please end this? We have class in the morning, and it's late."

As the heiress mentioned it, both her teammates and the members of team JNPR retrieved their scrolls, examining the time. It was, indeed, late.

"… Yyyyeeeaaah, that might be a good idea." Yang admitted, rubbing the back of her head.

"Good." Weiss said primly, huffing "… After surviving the Fall, Joshua was left to return home a broken man. Everywhere he traveled, he heard tales of what he'd done, both as the Malpais, and with the Legion."

"I'm surprised people didn't try to arrest him." Nora said "After how they treated poor Jo-Jo."

"HE EXPECTED TO BE STONED." The heiress ground, her brow visibly twitching. "He expected to be an outcast, and shunned from the people he called family… But he returned home, and was welcomed as though he'd never left."

Weiss watched as the brows of team JNPR and her faunus teammate raised in surprise. After the story they'd heard of the man, they had not expected that.

"It was then that he understood that the fires burning within him were not those of hate, but of love. Love for his family. Though it had driven him to do terrible things. As such, Joshua made a vow-"

"To make things right." Blake finished "To find a way to make up for the things he'd done."

A silence settled on the room, as everyone looked at the young Faunus. A level of understanding and sympathy evident about her. Her ears flattening to her head, and gaze drifting down.

"… Quite." Weiss answered, nodding "Six said that the entire story of 'The Burned Man' was one of redemption. Though that's probably not very evident, when the only portion of the story he told us concerned Joshua's crimes."

"He said there was a second part he'd tell us later." Ruby nodded "With everything that's happened recently, we never got it."

"I suppose that's understandable." Pyrrha nodded, frowning in thought "It certainly is a lot to think on."

"… I want more." Nora pouted.

Silence settled over the hunters in training as they thought over the saga they'd been told, mulling over the nuances and twists it had taken, even if most of them were added for the sole benefit of entertainment. It made them wonder just what else the world their teammate and friend hailed from held. The sights, the sounds, the miracles of a by gone world…

And the dangers.

"… Guys-" Jaune asked, a frown creasing his lips "… do you think Six has ever… killed anyone?"

The young man's teammates turned to look at him, as did the young women of team RWBY.

"… Psh, naah!" Ruby said, playfully dismissive "There's no way…"

"Why would you say that?" Yang asked

"Duh- well, Six said he's from a wasteland, right?" Jaune stammered "In most of the movies, aren't wastelands full of people that're always trying to kill you?"

"Y-yeah, well, Vacuo's a wasteland, right?" Ruby asked.

"Ruby!" Yang said, surprised.

"B-but… ok, maybe it's not a wasteland, but that's not what happens over there… right?"

A far heavier silence began to settle over the young men and women present.

"… He did once say something that made it sound like he did." Ruby admitted.

"He did." Weiss confirmed, a troubled look on her face "I was there when he said it."

The weight of the silence increased nearly a dozen fold.

"I really don't want to ask him…" Ruby said, deflating "… Last to raise their hand-"

Seven hands shot up around the room, leaving a single person with both of their arms lowered.

"… Aw dang it." Ruby pouted.

…

I ran for a good five blocks before finally dipping down an alley and taking cover. I'd long since left the bank behind, but there were still emergency vehicles racing down the streets, likely trying to find the fastest route to the bank. My mind flashing back to the officer and her fallen partner I'd been unable to truly help.

I ducked beside a dumpster and knelt there, breathing deeply to steady myself. Not a bright decision, given what I'd chosen for cover, but I'd smelled worse. Vault 3 was pretty rancid, among others.

I stayed there for a moment, listening for sirens or approaching footsteps. This late at night, most people weren't willfully walking down seedy alleys. The only sirens were off in the distance as well, which told me all I needed. I was in the clear, for now.

I let some of the tension out of me, and checked my pip-boy. With everything that'd happened, I hadn't exactly been paying attention to it. But after everything that'd happened, there had to have been something different.

I flicked over to the Data screen, and checked the 'Quests' heading.

-Completed: Travel to and search the Crow-bar for evidence.

-Completed: Reach the CCT before it closes for the night.

-Return to Weiss with the information.

… That was it?

After everything that just happened, that was all I had to show for it?

I suppressed groan, choosing to swallow my meager frustrations. I shouldn't have been surprised, it's rarely that simple or easy. Besides, I did still have Snowflake's information to pass to her so we could map it out. On the whole, Tonight was far from a bust. If anything, we were still right on track. Part of me just wished I'd gotten something more for it.

Besides, I was getting ahead of myself.

I still had to check Cork's scroll.

I pulled out the device and opened it. It was an odd experience. Most of the time when I want to turn something on, I have to press buttons and flip switches. The only real exception being my pip-boy, which I wasn't even sure could be turned off. Scrolls, however, are much more intuitive. Just slide it open, and bam, it's on and ready. Very handy, and easy to navigate.

Of course, then you open it up and find yourself on a portion of it dedicated it to pictures. And suddenly you realize just how much of a pervert the owner of this phone actually was.

I did not, nor ever wanted to know, that you could do that with a bassoon.

I left that portion of the phone behind quickly, deleting it as I went. Never again would it harm the innocent.

I began scumming through Cork's communications. There were a great deal of them, and they didn't make a deal of sense either. Lots of times, locations, and what I could assume were dates. Possibly past robberies or meetings, but I had no real way to verify them at the moment. Not that they'd be of much help at the moment anyway. If I wanted to know, I could cross reference them with some of the recent news reports. Most of them weren't of any consequence. There was only one that really stuck out to me. Mostly because it constituted something more than random dates.

That, and it was labeled as being from 'Bane'.

[All right boys, this should be simple enough even you can't screw it up.]

A chuckle escaped me, irony.

[As of now, we're done going after Dust. The humans are scrambling to try and keep themselves armed and in check, so our job is finished. Let them struggle. Your new assignment is simple: make some noise. It doesn't matter what you do, who you do it with, or why. Just as long as the humans keep looking elsewhere. Make them scared, make them panic, make them busy. It's going to take time to move everything.

Don't fuck it up.]

That was it. That was the whole message.

I stayed there, staring at it for a moment. If nothing else, it explained why they'd gone and tried to rob a bank. But the rest of it didn't make much sense. Why were they trying to 'make noise'? Distractions I could understand, but with everyone on edge as they were it wouldn't take much to shift people's gaze. Clearly, they were trying to move something, like the orders said.

But robbing a bank?

What could they possibly be moving that was so big, a bank robbery would seem small?

I continued crouching there for a moment, drumming my fingers on the nearby Dumpster in thought. This was important, so I sure as hell wasn't going to ignore it.

'… we're done going after Dust.'

It clicked.

They were done going after dust. Simple as that.

Why, why now would they be done going after dust?

Simple: They'd gotten what they were after. Whether it was just the dust or not.

They'd stolen enough to push people to the edge. Have them jumping at the drop of a hat. Which meant it wouldn't take much to set them off or distract them. Tonight's robbery hadn't gone as planned, but Cork and his boys were planning to make it as loud and visible as possible. Why would they do that, when every other Dust robbery has been intent to keep a, relatively, low profile?

Quick, dirty, work. Get in, take what you want, and beat feet.

The reason: Because what they were trying to do now wasn't quiet. It wasn't something that could be done quick. It was something that would catch everyone's, or least someone's, attention.

There was really only one thing I could imagine them moving, that would spur such a reaction.

Several hundred tons of stolen Dust.

I stood up from behind the dumpster, my pulse quickening as adrenaline began to hit me.

It was still here.

The dust was still in Vale. It had to be for everything to make sense.

Right under everyone's noses.

"… Heh- he he-"

I laughed, just a little.

This was important, this was big.

It meant that this entire situation could be reversed. If we could find the dust, we could put the screws to the White Fang in a big way.

It was still here.

'… but not for long.'

I focused, stifling my laughter. This was good, but it made one thing clear: We were working against the clock now. The longer it took to track down Torchwick, the more dust he and the White Fang could squirrel away to parts unknown. I had no time for laughing. The night was young, and I had my work cut out for me.

I did a quick stretch, and set my pip-boy to begin tracking some of the locations Yang had marked out. Most of the big ones were spread too far apart across Vale to make the trip in one night. But there were smaller locations she'd pointed out as well. I might not get anything from them. But it would keep me busy.

I also noticed a new heading had been created in my 'quests' tab:

-(Optional) Make things difficult for the White Fang

I smiled to myself. I could do that.

Without another word, I turned and left the alley.

Things were starting to get very interesting.