Cinder slammed into me the moment she saw me coming to retrieve her, her golden eyes shining with tears. I knelt down to embrace her properly, uncaring that I was probably doing so in front of a great many students and military officials. Cinder was my daughter and fuck anyone that thought that anything other than her was my priority right now.

Glover thankfully understood, and left me and Cinder with the students. A room full of nervous, scared and concerned Huntsmen and Huntresses in training (otherwise known as Specialists), and me and my daughter. So I did what I could to calm them down. I chatted with them, distracting them with anything I could think of. Some of them volunteered to go and help out, but had been faced by a polite refusal. It seemed that even in Atlas, there were things that the military didn't want young people, Specialists-in-training or not, to see.

It was draining, but I think I did a decent job of it. Personally, I think that Cinder's presence helped. I recognised many of the students, and they clearly recognised Cinder. There was a chance that they were trying to remain calm for her sake. Once more I found myself both grateful and disturbed by the emotional suppression that most in Atlas were capable of to some degree. It couldn't be healthy, but right now? I doubt Cinder would be able to cope in a room of students that were freaking out.

Eventually, Glover came to retrieve us an hour or so later. After ensuring that the students were good to be left alone, I headed after him, Cinder's hand tightly holding my own.

..and then I learned about the hospitals.

Bloody hell, Watts went all out...

"...How many?" I asked Glover the inevitable question as we made our way through the entrance to the Archive building. How many did we lose?

"Seven of ours." Royce answered in as calm a voice as he could likely muster. "..Archivist's Fell, Salt, Gunner, Edwards, Becker and Yaxley….along with Junior Captain Germain."

"I see." I sighed. Whilst I know...knew all of the names, I had been good friends with both Becker and Yaxley. Hell, I'd met Yaxley's husband when he'd come to our office paintballing sessions. And Becker had actually helped me find my apartment when I had earned enough to move out of Mantellian motels, and had even helped me move in. "..Dare I ask the total?"

"...Seventy-Three if we include the incidents at the hospitals." He told me. "And that might well become Seventy-Four. They aren't sure that Captain Ironwood will make it. He lost an arm, a leg and a heck of a lot of blood."

He will make it. I thought. Of course he will. Nothing short of Atlas falling from the sky could stop him. "..How many students?"

"...Four, Brothers bless them.." Glover gave a sigh. "...Put the coffee on Schwartz, I have a feeling none of us will be going home 'till late."

I fought back a sigh. Sending us home wasn't an option and I knew it. Atlas had been attacked and seventy-three people were dead. The military would be out for blood soon enough, as would the citizenry when the details were made public. Brothers only knew what the other Kingdoms would do when they found out. So we had to get to work as soon as we could.

But that didn't mean I had to like it.

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___________________________________________________________________

Unfortunately, Glover was right.

It wasn't until some completely unreasonable and ungodly hour of the following morning that I carried Cinder out of the Archive office and headed towards my car. She had barely spoken a word the entire day, and hadn't left my side at all since I'd collected here after the incident.

But now at least, she was peacefully snoozing in my arms, and hopefully would remain so.

Personnel files had needed updating, entries about the incident needed writing up and filing, names needed to be added to the Rolls of Remembrance. Then we turned our attention to whomever could have orchestrated the events of the day. Some names I recognised, if barely: Dr. Merlot, the Asturias Clan, the Malachite Cartel. Other names I hadn't even heard of: The Restorationists, the Anti-Vytal Front, Former Captain Ney and his right hand man Slate Blanc. Someone threw the White Fang in as a candidate, but was thankfully ignored. After all, at this point, they're still just a protest movement. Truth be told, I learned more about the officially recognised 'Enemies of Atlas' in the last twelve hours than I had done in the last four years.

I floated the idea that Lieutenant Watts might be behind it all, in an over the top faking of his own death. But whilst most in the office agreed that Watts could do something like that, they eventually dismissed the idea. On the (slim) upside, my suggestion was actually recorded. It might not be much, but the thought of Watts faking his death will at least be out there.

Glover walked with us as we left, headed to his own vehicle. The thin man appeared more exhausted than I could ever recall seeing him. He was still in his dress uniform, having remained in it all day.

"The Blues want you amongst their ranks, by the way." Glover said with a slight smile as I placed the still snoozing Cinder into her seat. "So did the Yellows. Hell, even the Grays were making inquiries. That semblance of yours is in high demand."

"...Great." I sighed. Seventy-Three people dead, and the thing people are most interested in is my fucking semblance. "Just what I needed.."

"I told them to go screw'emselves, by the way." He continued. "Not only do we have bigger things to be worried about right now, you're one of mine, Casper. For as long as you want. I refuse to be bullied by that idiot Stirling just because he waves a gun in my face."

And thank the Brothers for that. Draco Stirling, aside from having an obviously evil sounding name, was the Senior Captain of Civilian Security (the Yellows) and known to be racist even by Atlesian standards. But as he was popular with a number of the other members of the Captaincy, he was a leading candidate to succeed General Sleet when he retired.

"Appreciated, Sir."

"Take tomorrow off, Casper." Glover said, in an uncommon instance of using my first name. "The Little Lady will need calming and reassuring...and you'll need to register that nifty new semblance of yours with the Registry before they get picky and arrest you."

…...Great, I'd almost forgot about that.

"...Thanks Royce."