The day introduced itself with valiant, merry, agonizing sunlight. Ella was too occupied to enjoy it. Occupied running for her life. Too busy sprinting through sidewalks and hiding in dumpsters. All she sought was an afternoon walk that would hopefully take her mind off Nadia’s absence. Now, she thought herself a fool for turning down Augustus’s offer to accompany her, because on the way back, she saw Terrance.

She was rather certain he recognized her as well. Everyone always caught sight of the neon ghost who shone brighter than the best holographic messengers Atlas could offer, even if they tried to ignore her.

All this contributed to her strategy. Completely abandoning stealth, she thought it best to outrun him. But she wasn’t making it any closer to Augustus Correctional. Instead, she found herself gulled at the entrance of Vale’s docks.

There weren’t too many people at this popular tourist spot. Most of them were wrapped within the bedsheets of their comfy homes. Terrance trespassed the street, walking almost as fast as she ran. Subtlety was still important.

“S-Stop! Terrance! Don’t come any closer!” Ella pleaded.

He sighed. “Why are you so afraid? What did he do to your memories? What did he alter within them regarding me?”

“I know almost nothing! I hardly remember my own name! I don’t know where I’ve seen you, or how, but there’s something inside telling me to stay away! I trust my instincts.”

“I always liked that about you. But I have to follow my heart, too. If I don’t take care of you, the person who did this to us will destroy everything we know.” Terrance inched closer, now positioned in the middle of the road.

“Tell me what you’re going to do. Y-You better not hurt me!” She tripped over her words and her feet, knocking a cloud of dust onto the pier. Now, there was no chance of evading him. If only a miracle could’ve taken place at that very moment. If only an egotistical, insane crime-lord with the gall to resume his vices within Vale could have returned, with a bang.

First came the tire screeches. Then, Terrance pensively checked the source of the ear-splitting rubber, only to get a hands-on examination. A lavish sports vehicle of unknown origin rammed into him, destroying his Aura. What’s more, the driver made sure he had the speed to knock Terrance out of sight, into the waves below.

Now stopped, the burnt smoke of locked wheels masked the transgressor. He swung the door open, planted both feet onto the ground with confidence, and took a great sniff of the ocean breeze. Most ran at seeing him. Contently whistling, the man brought a glass of champagne to his lips. Then, removing his shades, he stared down Ella, daring her to speak first.

“Wanna sip?”

“D-Dimitri!? Is that you?” She crawled to her feet.

“Course it’s me! It ain’t been that long since your grand-pappy sent me to Atlas! Then again, word on the street is you’ve got yourself a remembrance problem. Sure looked like you needed a hand back there. Fortunately, I got plenty for bird-man to catch. He didn’t take that hit gracefully, if you feel my drift. He did. So, watchu’ been up to?” Dimitri lapped up the rest of his drink, then tossed the glass back into his unreasonably perfect car. Certainly, it was commandeered for less than wholesome purposes.

“N-Nothing. You haven’t changed your ways, have you? Everyone said you were a terrible person, that you did terrible things.”

“Well, let’s see. I didn’t pay that parking ticket. I killed this car and stole the dealer.” With fingers he began counting his feats since sunrise. “What I’m trying to say is, this is all just a big misunderstanding! I’m really not such a bad guy. Yeah, the bank teller didn’t make it through that heist, but the guy was already dead when I got there.”

“I-If what they say is true, what are you doing here? If any cops see you, there won’t be anywhere to hide. I’m supposed to tell Augustus if I see anyone suspicious. He won’t go easy on you.” She nervously held both hands close. There was no question Dimitri was number one most wanted for good reason, but he’d been consistently helping Ella, his blackmail notwithstanding. Because of him, Terrance was gone for the time being.

“Eh. Let him try. Listen, I’ve been put on stress leave.” To her utter distress, he slipped close to her, and lowered his voice. “For me, this is a business venture, not a holiday. In Atlas, I was approached by a woman. Pretty common, but this time, it was a Grimm. Some sort of crystal ball mockery. The woman was inside the ball. There’s a floating ball, with a woman inside it, who wanted to talk. Feel me?”

“N-No. That sounds insane.”

Dimitri rambled quickly, half his words holding zero meaning to Ella. “No more questionable than myself. Said she was called Salem. It was a stupid name. She spoke of an operation to target Vale, to find something called a Relic. Don’t know what it does. Don’t care. But, if she wants it, surely it must be worth something! Could be a nice souvenir. She should’ve kept her cards close to her chest, lest she learn what sort of hell someone like me can throw her plans into!”

“I don’t understand. Who’s Salem, and what do you mean ‘target Vale’? We’re in Vale!”

“Exactly! I’m going to swipe this Relic out from under her before she even realizes it’s gone. But it’ll take allies. Powerful allies. Allies who know how to dance with darkness, and walk away.” He ditched the discreet act and leapt back, spinning around with his arms outstretched. If there were many people around to see it, he would’ve been attracting a sizable crowd. “I’ve been sending invites to notable Huntsmen all over Vale- the kind you can’t find here on the streets! You wouldn’t happen to know of any, ahem, would you?”

Still somewhat terrified by him, she shook her head back and forth.

Dimitri paused, then crossed his arms. “Come to think of it, with a big shot like Augustus as your caretaker, you might know something juicy. Does he know where the Relic is? And if he does, did he ever tell you? Don’t lie.”

Ella backed away. “N-No! I promise, I don’t know anything.”

“Trick question!” He jolted forward, one index finger outstretched. “I already know where the Relic is. It’s gotta be in the most well-guarded vault in Vale, under lock and key. That means the Cross Continental Transmit Tower! The top, specifically. Not like it’d be at the bottom…” A series of incoherent grouches followed.

He began pacing back to his car, which had already blocked traffic, until something caught his eye. As one of the more renowned resting grounds within Vale, the docks had many attractions. One of which was a wooden painting of a Beowolf, with a hole cut out where its head would be.

“Oy! Check it! Pretty sweet portrait, eh? Tell you what. Snap a photo of me posing with it, and I’ll kill you later, rather than now.”

“W-Whatever you say!” Ella gasped, quickly accepting his camera and waiting for him to get into position. Being a quick learner, it took her only seconds to figure out what to do, and soon Dimitri was casually scrolling through his album to view the photograph. By accident, he found the picture of himself in this very location taken by Nadia when he first visited Vale.

“That’s one for the books, huh? That dainty little flower, Nadia, took it. Say, where is she, anyway? Her unbearable heroism always brings a smile to my gorgeous face. But it won’t last. With the relic, I’ll have her following my every whim soon enough. The last apprentice wasn’t so lucky- but Nadia has promise! And when she finally comes around, and sees Remnant as I see it, none will question me.”

“She’s not here… She’s gone.” Ella’s frozen tear streaks darkened.

“…No. Was it the Grimm? Bandits? She had such potential!”

“N-No! She didn’t die or anything. She’s just missing somewhere in the mountains. I think it’s called ‘Terra-Something’?”

Dimitri smirked, kneeling into the driver’s seat. “Gotcha. Nadia’s gonna get through it, no doubt. But if she doesn’t turn up soon, I might just have to go to this ‘Terra-Something’ and turn whatever tide’s swept her up. Till next time!” The engine began revving in time with Terrance’s revival. From the furthest end of the harbor, he yanked himself back onto the slippery wooden bridge, then stumbled forward, dripping wet and desperately hoping Ella hadn’t noticed. She noticed.

“Dimitri, wait! C-Can you give me a ride back to Augustus Correctional? Please?”

“Are you drunk? I’d rather sip gasoline than go back there. Get a nurse, and take a walk.” He balanced his sunglasses out of his unbuttoned shirt onto his nose, then reconsidered his harsh treatment when Terrance entered his vision halfway down the wharf. “Hahahahahaaa… Hey! Get in, Ellie. Let’s take a little joyride.”

“To the prison. R-Right?” She locked the door and rolled up the window upon entry.

“If I don’t bring you there, I’ll have ‘Smokey’ on my back even outside Sanus. Just don’t count on me sticking around for the after-party. Too busy masterminding against the Seer to spend a couple weeks in the Crypt. That’s okay with you, right?” Dimitri’s speech diminished in quality until it completely collapsed into whooping.

Terrance coughed on the exhaust left by the criminal. Having literally been left in the dust, something clicked amongst a fit of bipolar rage. He realized that if he needed to catch a faunus, even as one himself, there were plenty of resources to be found to the East, past Forever Fall and Summit’s Blight, where everything was red and perfect.

“Anyone asks, it was a respectable citizen who drove you here.” Dimitri ordered, unlocking the passenger door and reaching over Ella to open it himself. The bridge to the asylum awaited.

“I-I’ve never lied to Augustus, before.”

“It’s not a lie.”

“B-But they said-“

“Your problem, not mine. Don’t make it mine. Or I’ll come back here and we’re gonna have a nice chat.” He winked a couple too many times, then nudged her outside. The moment she stepped out, he rocketed away. Bold move considering the abundance of police. Ella crossed the extensive walkway towards the main gates, hoping to find Augustus inside. She didn’t. Rather, he was exposed, set up on the side of the overpass with a collection of digital graphs.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“Just checking every map in the database, and cross referencing that with Boreas’s notes. Before he left, he told me not to fuss in the case he didn’t return soon. That’s what worries me. He studied that foreign stretch of land and the Beryl Rhinestone excessively, and if he’s pessimistic about returning, then we’re in serious trouble. If only I could find the door to Terra Insanire, I can start to make some progress…”

One of Beacon Academy’s lockers lodged itself through the flooring of the metal grating on which they stood, causing an obscene racket which deprived Augustus of his equipment. Most of it, along with Boreas’s writings, bid farewell into the sea. “Ah, well, that’s the end of that, isn’t it?”

“Hello? Can someone open this thing?” Zara’s muffled voice, along with her rocking back and forth, made it clear who had dropped in. “I think it may have gotten damaged in the fall.” Augustus first tried force, then random combinations, then his sword. Its discharge of energy coils overloaded the locker until it burst open, releasing a welcome surprise.

“Zara!?” Ella helped her up.

“Yep, that’s me.”

Augustus spun his weapon within his two hands, reflecting sunlight into his glasses, which in turn glided right into Zara’s already flaming eyes. “So you were among those who went missing? Give me the gist of what we’re going up against here.”

“We’re not really up against anyone, except maybe Alecto. We just lost the Rhinestone, that’s all.”

“You’re saying it’s her fault? I’d dread having to cross blades with as cherished a friend as her.”

“Well… It’s partly hers, and partly ours. She really hates Delphics, and-”

“There was a Delphic? The Administrator will reward a hefty prize to you if you can bring him to me!” Augustus flew higher, brandishing his weapon with a reinvigorated excitement, lusting over the chance to finally ensnare a Grimm humanoid. There was an odd change in tone and behavior though, as he glided close and began whispering. That was, of course, after a paranoid episode wherein he checked to make sure no one was listening in. “But… I must be honest. I have no interest in the Administrator’s goals of capturing the Delphics. I intend to kill them. It wasn’t Nobody, was it?”

“Y-Yes. It was Nobody.” Zara lied. She had never encountered the fiend herself, only hearing stories of his charm and skill. But there was a reason why Beleth’s Grimm nature was hidden to begin with, and she was willing to do what was necessary to keep her Team Leader safe.

“Alecto swore she’d end his life if they ever met again. How could she be responsible for this? You didn’t oppose her desire to kill a pitiful Delphic, did you?”

“I-It’s complicated. Right now, I need to figure out how Aamon managed to get inside Terra Insanire. That means learning everything I can about Servus Portum. Do you know anything to help me?”

“…There are many repositories of information in Vale, most of it concerning ourselves. If I tell you where you can go, promise me that as soon as you’re done, you’ll take me to the door inside Terra Insanire.”

Zara fought her instincts. Part of why she’d come here was to recruit Augustus, but after his rant pertaining to the massacre of Delphics, he was the last person she needed to join the fray. She already deceived him once. What harm was it to lie again? “Yes. I’ll bring you there once I learn enough.”

“The most I am permitted by the Administrator to tell you is that Audrey Penelope seems to have had a history with the Kingdom herself. Sort of superfluous, but I would start there.”

“Who is the Administrator anyway? Aren’t you the Warden? Doesn’t that mean you’re the head honcho around here?” Zara was already gearing up to leave, in search of Penelope.

“He, um…” Augustus struggled to come up with something. “He just administrates.”

“Whatever you say…” She shook her head, bemused. Following the shadow of Beacon Tower wasn’t even needed. Naturally, a student would know the way. And once there, reaching Stam’s classroom, headed by Penelope, was simple.

“Finally decided to show up, huh, sweet cheeks?” Maximus laid down his cards, abandoning a game of solitaire. “Everyone but me and Nero have been forced to sit in for study hall ever since Team Blazer and Lance disappeared. Now Boreas is gone, too. Miss Snooze-a-lot just won’t take no for an answer. It’d probably do you well to check in with her. And, if it pleases you, feel free to tell either of us where the hell you’ve been.”

“Long story, don’t have time. Go back to licking your cards.” She waved him away, and aimed for the instructor’s desk. He growled, but resumed his game nonetheless.

“I’ll get you for that…”

“Miss Penelope?” Zara threatened to wake her. “Uh, Miss Penelope? Pssst!”

“Gah!” She fell back in her seat, her breathing heavy. “M-Miss Haken! You’re finally back! How long was I asleep?”

“Ten minutes!” Maximus yelled.

“Oh, good. I thought it’d been days, considering you returned. Why had you left? I had no choice but to mark you, along with the other three-fourths of the class, absent for the last few sessions. Explain yourself.”

“Most of it isn’t important. We went training in the mountains a couple days ago, and got trapped. I’m only here because Boreas sacrificed himself to the same fate just to bring a rocket-locker. We didn’t skip class, we literally can’t leave Terra Insanire. We’re stranded. Miss Penelope?”

“Wha… Huh! You’re stranded, yeah.” She tried to pretend as though she didn’t doze off mid-explanation.

“Don’t mark us absent, please. We’ve been stuck in the mountains! I’ve had to sleep in caves.”

“Alright, alright. As long as you’re in the wild, sparring, that counts as work in my book. That was always Professor Stam’s philosophy, anyway. If you’re here, where’s everyone else?”

Zara recounted the events within Terra Insanire, trying not to reveal the brutality of Alecto nor the betrayal of Beleth. She was still convinced that everyone could make it out of this predicament, and didn’t want any outsiders to pass judgment. “The most important thing is that even with the Rhinestone missing, a battalion from Servus Portum made it inside! Miss Penelope?”

“H-Huh?” Her eyes fluttered open.

“Servus Portum knows how to get into Terra Insanire! Augustus said you knew about them.”

“…Here, let’s walk and talk. It’ll keep me awake.” Penelope started a tour through Beacon’s halls, which ended in the library. But she didn’t bother waiting until then to begin the provision of answers. “It’s dangerous to enter Servus Portum. I’d recommend practicing your skills against anything but them. Even Grimm are more merciful, but I’m sure you know all about that.”

“I do, now.” Zara grimaced at one of her hooks, dragging the other far behind.

“I’m not familiar with Terra Insanire. Maybe I can still help, though. If you want to know one of my little secrets, I was once a Servant. Back then, they were just called citizens. And this would’ve probably been, what, seventeen years ago?”

“Which was when I was born. Sounds about right.”

“Haha. Yeah.” Penelope had already deduced Zara’s situation. “But when you say they found a way in there, who’s they? Was it Aamon?”

“Y-Yeah. It was. Do you know of him?”

Entering the library, she helped herself to a complementary coffee machine, which was operated amidst her tirade. “I know him personally, actually. Or at least, I did. Portum wasn’t always the tyrannical heavyweight you see today. It’s not like it was sunflowers and rainbows when I was young, but things were… different. Everyone knew of life outside Servus City, as it was more commonly known. In spite of the efforts of political tyrants, we all knew it was paradise, relatively speaking. The only saving grace was Claudius, the old ‘Supreme Leader’ who truly did care about the lives of his people. The worst you’d see were labor unions, with forced work for little pay. But there was supplied housing. For a time, you could still get by.”

Zara jeered at the sentiment. “Oh, so we weren’t quite at slavery yet. How kind.”

“Well, that was a product of a Caligula. Textbooks don’t talk about that, not that there are any, and most witnesses have different opinions about which faction was right. I was only there in the beginning. Servus City had just finished waging war with itself due to the poor living conditions of the people, and considering the scapegoat of faunus, they were prepared to do it all over again with the White Fang.”

“Huh. First Atlas, then Servus Portum. They’ve got a knack for ticking off empires.”

Penelope now sat on the upper tables of the study, atop a bastille of books. “It wasn’t really the fault of the faunus, though. The condition of Servus City truly reached crisis point once Claudius died, and his son Caligula took the throne. That man harbored a deep hatred for the faunus’s protest of all-powerful government rule. To him, they were what caused all those citizens to be lost in a revolution. And it’s because of him that the enslavement of faunus began.”

“That’s helpful and all, but what about Aamon? If we can learn as much about him as possible, maybe we’ll discover his techniques, and save those still missing.” Zara folded her arms. That part wasn’t a lie. Even if she was scouring every source possible for trivia on Servus Portum for her own gain, that gain was still secondary to her friends.

“Aamon fought in the war preceding the one with the White Fang. The War of Flags, it was called. What a waste of precious life. If only the caliphs and ministers had the sense to listen to Claudius.” She gulped down the sugary drink, hoping to root out as much benefit from its delicious, sweet glory as possible. “He wasn’t a General, yet. He was the lowest form of foot soldier, prepared to die for his country. Prior to that, he worked in the smelting mills alongside myself. He was rugged, and brutish. But kind. I have no idea what happened to him after that. Now, all these years later, he’s literally the highest ranking army of clones, with a body of steel.”

“And what happened to you once the War of Flags began?” Zara’s question pushed Penelope too far.

“I-I…” She froze. Without warning, her voice became shaky. “I still can’t talk about it. As much as I like to defend the White Fang for their contention against the worst parts of Servus City, they did… Terrible things. I just want to… Sleep… Sleep…” Her coffee was depleted, and almost immediately its effects wore off. Dropping into her arms, Penelope’s words faltered until she was fast snoring.

Zara leaned back, digesting everything she’d heard. Two elements stood out to her. First was Claudius- a benevolent king who died on the twilight of a war which resulted in Servus Portum’s vast regiment against the faunus. That twilight was exactly as old as her, adding fuel to the fire within her heart.

More and more, it seemed she originated from Servus Portum during this time of bloodshed. Last was the concept that in the face of the White Fang’s mistreatment, they may have deserved it. With Zara’s leave, a crackle of light meant to split the eastern clouds burnt her ear. Summit’s Blight wasn’t showing any mercy to Vale, let alone its own inhabitants.

“A-Alright, men! Heed not that horrendous weather. There is much worse in the sky! According to our best practitioner of medicine, there is another bombardment of bombs headed our way!” Herald shuddered at the thought himself, even though he was trying to boost the spirits of his squad. His tail swung this way and that, a dreaded tick.

“What are we to do, Captain?” One Old Fang member from the crowd raised his hand, drawing interested murmurs from the rest.

“Err… According to my Lord, last I heard, Caligula’s blimps cannot reach us due to these storms, and his planes have poor visibility. They guess where to parade those bombs, and they do so without regard for ammunition! This’ll be a costly trade for the enemy, in our favor! We’ll settle below ground, in caves!”

“That’s what we’ve been doing! There must be another way!” The goon contested. Another added a question.

“When will reinforcements arrive!? Our numbers are dwindling!”

“Huh? Uh, argh! L-Look! My Lord will return soon, I know of it! He’ll know exactly what do to! Until then, all I can suggest is we replicate the strategy that’s carried us thus far. R-Right?”

Horror overtook him as his own men, those loyal soldiers he desperately needed, began humming with protest until what seemed like a riot lurked.

A proud voice of dissent pushed past every member, quickly marching towards Herald atop his podium. “We can’t kill ourselves for you like this! You hardly even have a plan, and you want us to worship you? Bring Kyradin Bael! H-Huh?” Only a fool would dare miss the imposingly malnourished form of Naros, who had snuck into the picture and now held a rake to the man’s neck. The claws of the tool had been sharpened to the point of overkill, and had cut many lives short before.

“Take a step closer, and I’ll sever you in two.” He verbalized in heavily gaunt outbursts. With that, everyone became silent, and fanned out. No one felt like dying to get a few words in on the rumored wretch who swept whispers of twisted bodies and appalling tactics through the barracks. Not even the leader whom he defended, Herald, threatened to do anything but timidly nod when the scalding red eyes of Naros narrowed in on him.

And even that brought trembles to his already frail physique. He thought it best to remove himself from Naros’ proximity, into an outpost where prey of Aamon suffered until they reached the front of the tent to be operated on. He stifled forward when a hand incorrectly assumed to be from Naros settled on his back.

“Thee needn’t doubt me as thy ally, for it is I.” Theodore preached. “Why doth thee fear Naros so? Strange, he is, but he’s forbidden from harming thou, no?

“Oh. I-It’s just you. I can’t even begin to recount the stories revolving around Naros, his never ending and creative ways of tormenting who he considers enemies. There comes a fine line between interrogation, and torture.”

“But certainly, he wouldn’t dare stab thee in the back. Thee are Herald. Naros cannot attack.”

“Er, I don’t understand.” Herald coughed.

Theodore elaborated, his mannerisms more of a barrier than anything else. “If thee perishes at the hands of Naros, thine Lord will not take kindly his treasonous woes.”

“No, like, I really don’t understand your words. Would you mind talking like me?”

“O-Of course. All I’m wondering, Naros can’t hurt you. For one, I doubt he’s got the spine for it. But beyond that, he’d be a fool to attract the negative eye of the Old Fang’s lord.”

“He doesn’t care about him. Ever since Beacon’s Selene was willingly released from the clutches of my Lord, Naros has had nothing but insubordination aimed at him.” Near the end of his justification, Naros himself swept the cloth door aside and entered the ward.

“Who even are you? Rarely do I see you among us, Doc.” No longer slouching, he beat everyone in height. Theodore remarked how he lingered on certain syllables, adding a buzz to every word.

“While you were comfy here at home, I was entrenched on the battlefield, tending to the cause.” The Maddened Medic had his own fog of mystique to him, what with his gory uniform and unquestionable experience with what could only be described as a no man’s land.

Naros stayed silent, contemplating his next move. He must’ve figured letting the implied petulance go this time would save everyone some much needed time and effort. All he did was hand Herald a letter. “I was told to give you this.”

“Wh-What? What’s this?” He was already gone. “Hmmmm. It’s an invitation of sorts. From somebody named Dimitri. No last name.”

“May I take a look?” Theodore pulled back his mouth mask, all surgeries now paused. “My eyesight may be poor, but I can interpret all the same. So… There is a faction led by someone named Salem, who’s been recruiting warriors to, among other things, find what’s called a Relic in Vale. And all that was told to this Dimitri person in hopes that he would join their cause. Guess that backfired, because now anyone who’s received letters like this has been tuned in to the plans of ‘Salem’. Dimitri wants to get a band of people like us together to help him snuff out the Relic from Salem’s grasp.”

Herald tried to picture the new foe Salem. From the sound of things, she wasn’t very welcoming. “I can only imagine what other fiends he’s turned to. If we aid him, it may be the bridge to powerful connections! And it could be the first step to finally rid us of our association to the White Fang! Argh! Even by our own colleagues, we are too often mixed in with them. But there’s a chance this could add us to the list for Salem, whoever she is. That would strip away the possibility of gliding under her radar! What does Dimitri propose?”

“He claims that he, along with anyone with the will to show up, will meet up on the morrow at the base of the Cross Continental Transmit Tower in Vale. Second floor. According to him, that’s where the Relic lies. From there, everyone involved will play their part to scour the structure while someone keeps watch outside. And once the deed is done, we scatter, undetected.”

Behind them, a trooper with a bloody stump for an arm was thrown aside. Previously resting on the gurney to receive Theodore’s attention, he now laid sprawled out on the gravel floor. Naros was responsible. He dumped a body in the recruit’s place. Whoever this was, they wore straps along their skin, and a burlap sack had been placed over their head by the captor. “Naros? W-What is the meaning of this?” Herald squawked.

“This man is a traitor!” He proclaimed, ripping the bag off the accused. This traitor wore a hood under the mess of clips and clasps, with a stone mask not unlike one worn by standard Old Fang members. “He was sent here to gather information on you, for Servus Portum. He needs to be punished. That’s why I brought this.” Naros slammed a communications device on the table. “Let’s see what kind of valuable insight we can strangle out of him. I’ll be waiting in my quarters to hear what you want me to ask him.”

“O-Oh no. He’s going to torture him endlessly!” Herald squeaked into Theodore’s ear. “Y-You’d better go with him. Maybe you can keep the traitor hanging onto life, and if not, someone has to dispose of the body.”

“If you insist.”

“Stop! You’ve got it all wrong! I don’t work for Servus Portum!” The masked, currently bound hireling had a clear computerized pattern to his voice. Perhaps it was due to the mask.

“I’ll cut out your tongue first.” Naros didn’t really care what he had to say, wrapping the sack back around his neck. Then, after gesturing for Theodore to follow him, he lugged the incriminated outsider over his shoulder, outside the settlement.

“Ugh… Even as a spy, that poor thing doesn’t deserve a fate like this.” Herald, now alone, sat down for the first time in days. He tapped the phone endlessly, counting the minutes until he had to provide Naros questions. Overall, he was most concerned with blocking out the screams sure to emanate through the gadget.

For him, a surprise spiced things up. Finally, a good sign. He had no choice but to burst out of his chair, for a familiar yet nameless faunus with antlers crouched his way through the door. “M-My Lord!”

“Where’s my crossbow?” Nomad demanded.

“R-Right there, my Lord! I kept it safe and sound just for you!” In a haze, Herald pointed wildly in the direction of a nearby desk.

“You know you don’t have to keep calling me that, right?”

“It was the Arbiter’s idea. I-I don’t even know your real name.”

Nomad sat down, somehow immune to the looming moans of untreated patients. “Nomad is a fine substitute, coined by Selene. What I’d like to know is how this ended up in your hands.” He loaded his crossbow in the event of a surprise attack. “You were there the night I was stabbed by Galathyn, weren’t you?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“How did three students, newly admitted into Beacon Academy, take down the Grand Gatekeeper? It’s been centuries since that beast was cursed to guard this land. Then a bunch of teenagers arrive, and suddenly it’s gone. There’s something special about Lucifer, Alecto, and Selene. There’s no chance three Lorekeepers were put onto the same team by pure luck. And among them is Zara Tir. Hahaha! If only she knew how important that name was, and still is.”

“Well, a-actually my Lord, the princess has more tricks than she let on. I could see you were still conscious after Galathyn’s poison set in, still hanging on. Even if your body gave out, your mind was incorruptible. In that time, she unlocked her semblance. She can control Necrocysts.” Herald explained. Nomad crossed his arms and closed his eyes, letting the information wash over him. At a certain point, his hat kept Herald from determining when his eyes opened, if they ever did.

“…Necrocysts? I was certain those were reserved for the gods. Can she really be so prolific as to hold some amount of dominion over a realm only ever controlled by three before?”

“…I-I don’t know too much about those three. That would be the ‘Slayer of Heretics,’ the ‘Skeleton King,’ and the ‘Caliph of Dusk and Dawn,’ right?” These titles appeared absolute gibberish to someone who knew not their meaning. “The Arbiter is the one I’d question for this. D-Didn’t they know each other personally?”

Nomad heaved in a deep breath, leaning back, finally showing the endless red optics which he saw the world through. “Yes… I have one last request for you, Herald. I ask you bake me another cake.”

“You already used the one we made? What for?”

Nomad didn’t answer. And it’ll never be known if he planned to, because once again Naros threw himself into their affairs. This time, it was the speaker that shook them out of the joy of a private briefing.

“Herald. I’m ready to tear answers out of this rat, and I’ll cut to the brain if I have to. I already learned his name, not that it matters. Sanzio. Putrid.”

“Naros?” Nomad looked at Herald. “Who is Sanzio?”

“A spy from Servus Portum. Naros is prepped to draw information. What do we want to know?”

Nomad kept the Nightmare Stinger waiting, then asked. Herald listened, then relayed the message. “Summit’s Blight is completely inhospitable. He cannot hope to expand his city here. Is he after the same thing we are, or does he think we’re the White Fang?”

Separated by a mountain, Theodore listened close, then repeated the query to Sanzio.

“I’m not with Caligula. I already told you, my dedication lies elsewhere.”

“You’re better served staying quiet if you’re going to lie. Your voice is giving me a headache. Be grateful. Most of my victims would have had their teeth removed by now.” Naros grabbed Sanzio by the jaw of his mask, a lemon ready to be crushed in his other fist. Forcing his neck back, he juiced the lemon over the eyes of Sanzio. His bawls didn’t deter Naros from alternating between that, pepper, and an old jar of homemade hot sauce.

“Graaah! Stop! I’ll tell you everything! I-I was sent here by someone who calls themselves the Administrator.”

“The Administrator?” Theodore echoed. “Herald? He claims to be affiliated with what’s called an Administrator.”

“The Administrator!” Sanzio corrected.

“The Administrator?” Herald continued the simple yet very repetitive poem.

Nomad raised a hand. “Enough. Is that someone from Servus Portum? A General, perhaps? Broach the subject.”

Nomad spoke through Herald, who spoke through Theodore. “Understood. So, Sanzio. Who is the Administrator? A false name for a commander of the Servants?

“He’d kill me if I told you-”

“I’ll kill you even if you do.” Naros smacked him across the face. “You’re a smart one. Every minute you stall is another I hesitate to gut you.” This time, the method of wreaking agony involved overloading the senses through the use of a trash can full of ice water. Naros’ tools were simple, smothered by the budget of the Old Fang. But they were brutally effective in their purpose. Every chilled drop met Sanzio’s skin. In this sort of downpour, grounded in a freezing cave, he was already chattering his teeth. And there were more buckets to come.

Some five minutes of this, with encouragement from more frosty rainwater, and Sanzio was quickly singing.

“P-P-Please! E-E-Enough!” He begged. “Th-The Administrator wanted me to examine your forces, and intercept your leader to figure out if your goals aligned. B-B-But he has zero relation to Servus Portum. If anything, that dismal nation stands in the way of us both. Th-This much, I guarantee.” Theodore held the radio to Sanzio’s mouth this time, giving Herald a direct stream of information.

“Impossible. Only we’re clued in the nature of Remnant.” Nomad refuted the fundamentals of Herald’s report. “I can descend upon this Administrator if I knew his name. His real name.”

“Sounds like you aren’t too fond of combatants using fake titles.” Herald snickered, before regurgitating the essence of Nomad’s inquest. “What is the Administrator’s name?”

“What about it, Sanzio? We need a name.” Theodore snapped his fingers to ensure everyone stayed awake.

“He never told me his name. He’s adamant about keeping us agents in line.”

“Then we’ll go from cold to hot.” Naros was clear in his message, already dousing gasoline on the martyr. Theodore tried to step in his way, to no avail.

“We can still yank something out of him. You can’t kill him.”

“Watch me.”

Sanzio withdrew his loyalty in record time. “Uh, w-wait- I… think I’m starting to remember some things!”

“That’s right. Spill. Or I will.” Naros tipped the canister forward, dripping more of the oily, flammable substance on his shoulder.

“He’s trying to find a Relic, so he can- Argh!” Sanzio jerked forward, struggling against the clasps holding him down. It appeared as though he was in immense pain, something giving out from within. Naros looked at Theodore, both either too sadistic or desensitized to show any emotion other than curiosity. His rabid seizure ended with his life, as Sanzio slumped over in his chair, the deficit of any pulse revealing him to be dead.

“Huh. I broke him.”

“Was he poisoned?” Theodore began throwing out potential explanations. “Err… Herald? Sanzio’s dead. He may have had a panic attack, or something.”

“Nonsense.” Nomad heard the odd snippet of context despite sitting several feet away from the receiver. “It’s clear. He said too much. The Administrator killed him.”

“How?” Herald said.

“Sanzio is just one of many slaves controlled by the Administrator, whoever it is. That became clear when I picked up his words through this device. His motorized voice is distinct. But with his demise, whatever trail we may have garnered has run dry. Take care of the body.”

“Pay your respects, if you must.” Naros spat forward and disappeared, likely to find some other source of amusement who’d have the respect not to beg, and bargain for their life like an annoying flea who didn’t know when to give in until their guts were spilt anew. He gleefully snickered.

Theodore had grown numb to the pain and suffering of others, having seen a multitude of gnarled bodies and victims of war, many of them missing limbs or organs. Within a ditch, he abandoned Sanzio, allowing the mud to bury him while he returned to camp. The birds would provide an excellent funeral. But there was one other person who stalked onto the scene, prepared to whisk the remains away to a proper fate.

“Oh, Sanzio. Poor, little Sanzio.” The Administrator mocked. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. I had such high hopes for you, too…”

Entry No. 5 complete.

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