Dimitri sat back, shirt unbuttoned, his legs on the table. Alongside them sat a milkshake that had been doused in alcohol. “Nice of you to finally drop in. I’m surprised, although somewhat amused, to see the White Fang wouldn’t keep me hanging. Welcome aboard.”

“Erm, well, actually, uh… I-I’m not in the White Fang. I reside as Herald, of the Old Fang.”

“Whatever you say, chap. You’re the first to show. You know who I am.”

“Y-Yes. You must be Dimitri. You sent me the heist invite, right? I was told to come to the second floor.” Herald tentatively sulked through one of the lower segments of the Cross Continental Transmit Tower, just to offer his hand.

“Ha!” Dimitri pretended to pull a weapon, but it turned out to just be the most common form of greeting. Herald still stumbled back, terrified. “That’s me! You didn’t happen to see any other mobsters outside, did you? I’d prefer not to tackle this place with just you at my side, after all the work I put into attracting attention… But the night is still young. I’d get comfy until the real deal begins.”

“Well, uh, I did plant two sentries in the elevator! They’ll make sure that whoever walks in here belongs in here.” As he sat down at the end of an elongated dining table, across from Dimitri, he couldn’t help but fidget restlessly.

“Most of the floors are already clear, both of witnesses and Atlas’ cronies. You can thank me for that. Just don’t ask where they went, or I’ll throw you among them.”

“Ahah…” Herald suddenly felt incredibly alarmed with his situation- locked in a warehouse with one of Remnant’s most revered crime lords. “Grah! Why didn’t I send Naros here? M-Maybe I should just leave! I’m sure there are plenty of other folks on their way, anyway! If that’s alright with you.”

“It isn’t.” Dimitri countered through clenched teeth, a smile forced across his lips.

The elevator took an exuberant amount of time to arrive, and when it finally did, Herald learned why. “You!? Impossible! Gah!” He crumpled to the ground, for ahead towered an iconic Servant who’d spent the last several weeks terrorizing all Herald stood for.

“Do not panic. For all the times I’ve invaded your lands and decimated your men, those were orders, from Supreme Leader Caligula.” Aamon’s eyes shone brighter. “I’m not here to kill you.”

“Uhuh. Who the hell are you?” Dimitri asked, watching Aamon walk past to take a seat at the conference table. He expected plenty of scum to hear of his robbery, but not a mechanical apparatus capable of articulation, both in terms of speech and movement.

“I am Aamon ‘HT3813,’ and I represent Host Aamon. ‘AA0001,’ that would be. He was told there was potentially much to gain from this operation. And once again, it is not my orders to assassinate you, Herald. You can stop hyperventilating.”

“…A remote control robot. Cool.” Dimitri shrugged, shaking his head. “This is turning out to be quite the band of thieves. I’m pretty satisfied with that. Each of our unique skill sets ought to come into play. We are going to use that to search every inch of this hood. Herald! What can you do?”

“Ah! Um… I can sneak around. I can turn into paper… I can cook.”

“You’re blowing me away.” Dimitri held a pistol to his own head, contemplating whether or not listening to this disappointment was worth it.

“He is stealthy. It’s more than I can say.” Aamon gave credit where it was due. “Aamon has many skills, most of them granted during our evolution. If you want to investigate this building, you’ll need to cover your tracks. I will locate the security office, and keep this questionable business venture under wraps.”

“You can manage that?”

“I cannot anticipate. But if history is to be trusted, I can do it and Vale will never even know we were here. It is a massive misstep to infiltrate any CCT-Tower without a plan to erase your existence.” Aamon reclined sideways, one arm rested on the desk. Now everyone sat across from each other. “We are not to leave any trace. That’s what Aamon ‘AA0001’ instructed. And that makes things difficult. Which begs the question: Are we alone? Who else is scheduled to arrive?”

His question received a brisk answer. Within the elevator, a piercing clash became apparent. Inside, something terrible must’ve been happening. Dents were formed in the bay doors. And once they opened, both Old Fang members who had stood guard were tossed into the room like trash.

“There is a debt to be paid, my dear.” Nobody sauntered into the facility. Without pause, he stomped onto the table and pranced over to Dimitri. Aamon examined the Delphic without moving, even as Nobody nearly crushed his hand under an unrelenting boot. Herald, in contrast, trembled out of his chair in a panic. “And I am the collector.”

“Ho!” Dimitri considered this change of pace a welcome addition, even as a hand clasped around his collar and dangled him in the air. “Oh! Someone has a breath problem!”

“Won’t smell half as bad as your corpse. You told me you’d return, and bring me to Augustus. You broke a promise. Now, you will die.”

“Haha- What do you think I’m doing here, now, anyway? Am I not back in Vale? Are we not standing eye-to-eye again?” Dimitri bluffed. He wasn’t scared by any measure of the word, but he’d prefer to keep his head.

“Why are all humans such liars?” Nobody asked Herald, who quaked at his stare. Dimitri was still hanging by an unbreakable grip. “I’m a very pragmatic person, Dimitri. I told you when you abandoned me, that if you did, I’d come back. I kept my promise.”

“The difference is, I’m here now. I wouldn’t have returned to Vale if I didn’t expect to run into you- and, we both have our reasons for killing Augustus. Good reasons!” Dimitri was an unsung hero when it came to deception. Although he wasn’t the best, as that title was reserved for one other, he was able to at least stall Nobody. “But before any of that, the task of snatching up that Relic before Salem does falls to us! Sounds intriguing, eh?”

“Salem!? The Moth…” Nobody’s expression contorted into a scowl. As it turned out, Dimitri’s bargaining skills saved him more than cash this time. It saved him his life.

“I feel it’s appropriate to inform you that Supreme Leader Caligula has plans to invade Summit’s Blight personally, and secure what is theorized to be hidden there- a powerful faunus, for this Moth.” Aamon let loose his master’s schedule. “He was more easily manipulated by the Seer than Prime Solomon thought possible.”

Dimitri broke into laughter. “He’s going to Summit’s Blight, is he? Well, then. I just may have to pay him a visit. I’d like my fair share of bling.”

“…Deer. If this is true…” Nobody tossed the crook side. “Then we must move quickly. Herald, what’s the plan?”

“Th-The plan?”

“That’s right, my dear. You don’t stand a chance of stopping the Moth without me. Or, is it really the Moth you’re here to stop? You couldn’t possible care about the Relics, or you wouldn’t have such a fixation with Summit’s Blight.” With the table giving him a boost, he was nearly triple Herald’s height. “What are you really after?”

“Eck- I, uh, I’m just following orders?”

“Whose orders?”

“My Lord’s orders!”

“Enough talk of lords and moths.” Aamon broke the two apart with his words, not needing to rise. “I grow wary of men who think they can play the role of gods. The Relic. Where is it, Delphic? What floor of the CCT-Tower?”

“My ignorance to that question shames me. If it’s here, it must be hidden well. I will sweep every floor, every vent, and every wall for a sign of perfidy. The humans are cunning.”

“Exceptional. The brains and the brawn. So far, you’re shaping to be a prime example of evolution, weaponized. I will locate the monitor room, and erase every camera that witnesses our crimes. Take this, all of you.” Aamon tossed three different earpieces to each mercenary. “With it, you may speak to me and only me. If you wish to converse among each other, I will pass the message.”

Dimitri brushed off the wrinkles of his unbuttoned casual wear. “Nobody, you start at the bottom. I’ll begin checkin’ the top. Anything gets in your way, chop their head off. And use the bloody neck-hole as a spittoon, for good measure.”

“There’ll be no decapitations today. My beloved is to stay sheathed.”

“Suit yourself. Now, Herald! You’re the weakest of the four of us, and the least wanted by law enforcement. Do you know what that means?”

“Uh. I-I get to leave?”

“I’m going to have you stationed outside, preppy! Make sure no one gets in! If they try, blow their brains out!” Dimitri dragged his thumb across his neck, breathing into Herald’s face. The small faunus became flustered almost immediately.

“I-I’ll try!” As a pushover, Herald showed no insubordination, picking up a rifle from his incapacitated lackeys. Everyone filed into the lift one at a time, and the first stop was high above, where Aamon would gain access to the main computers.

“Hello. How may I help you?” The invisible assistant who acted as chauffeur asked. Their message, which came from an unseen speaker, had all the percussion of Aamon’s voice, but none of the malevolence.

“The ‘Monitor Room.’” He answered.

“It seems that area is restricted for authorized personnel only. If that applies to you, could you please place your scroll on the terminal to verify your identity?”

Aamon replied by screwing off a panel in the corner with his pointed fingers, and tampering with the intricate motherboards. “And… We go up.” But they didn’t. Instead, they descended. “What is this?”

Somebody called the elevator. Another member of the Old Fang. Or rather, an ex-traitor.

“S-Sanzio!?” Herald recognized him. Now, Aamon’s voice had a true competitor. “But you’re supposed to be dead!”

“Quite the contrary. My deceit has revealed to me the horrors of the Administrator, and has brought me to a higher state of living. I have reformed, I assure you. And I am here to solidify my place among the Old Fang. What needs to be done?”

“Again, a faunus. Why would the White Fang need another representative? Don’t disgrace me with lies.” Nobody pulled him close to study him. Sanzio conceded their shared gaze first.

“To be frank, this is another opportunity to gain the respect of Herald, and you. I will follow your command. Just… Don’t kill me.”

“For now, you’re not expendable yet. Don’t get in my way, and we have a deal. Move.” He pushed Sanzio to the back, making sure he had sight of everyone’s hands. The ride upward was more than awkward. It was dangerous.

“Sanzio. Take this device. It’ll allow you to communicate with me. Don’t waste it.” Aamon sulked into a maze of microchips, where the walls were formed by mainframes. Next to disappear was Dimitri on the top floor, who parted ways with a giggling wave goodbye. Nobody followed only to slip inside a deep metal shaft meant to hold air at a set temperature. Thus only Herald, who stood at Sanzio’s waist, resided.

When it came to anything but combat, Nobody wasn’t very patient. Time was limited, and as such he bolted through the inner workings of the complex. His eye as sharp as his sword, he would’ve spotted the Relic if he ever came within contact. The search was both brisk and thorough. What stood out most was the irregular pattern of ducts and pipes, which suggested more than one floor hidden from public view.

“Enjoying yourself?” Nobody remarked at Sanzio, once again waiting inside the aerial tramway.

“In a matter of sorts, I am.”

“There is evidence of a room below us. If you want to make yourself useful, check it out. Do you like life, my dear?”

“I-I guess I have to say yes.”

“Then if you want to keep it, get to work.”

“I-I know the floor in question. I’ve been here many times, actually. But before we do that, I want you to tell me your name.” Sanzio made himself clear.

“I am-”

“Not Nobody. Nobody has the name Nobody. Your true name.”

The Grimm Tactician laughed at this attempt to seem imposing. “My allegiance does not lie with Faunus. Nor will it ever. Become a Delphic, then come talk to me.” At that moment, the doors shut and the CCT-Tower’s auditor returned.

“Hello. How may I help you?”

“The Chronicle of Memoirs. Take me there.” Sanzio already had a scroll hidden in his shawl of rubber.

“It seems that area is restricted for authorized personnel only. If that applies to you, could you please place your scroll on the terminal to verify your identity?”

He followed the one step expertly.

“Perfect. Thank you, Mister Urbino.”

“Seems I’m not the only one who values their privacy, ‘Sanzio’. Where does Urbino come from?”

“A name borrowed from a friend, much like this scroll. Pay no attention to it. What you should be concerned with is the Chronicle of Memoirs. Very few can ever lay claim to its secrets. It holds a computer system with information compiled throughout Remnant’s documented history. That is the mystery you’re on the bridge of discovering. Why don’t we, if it’s alright with you, take a look?”

“Of course. But you go first. I don’t want anyone behind me.” Nobody stood with his back against the wall, the gates sweeping aside so he could witness an auditorium of screens. Each held the time on them, every second ticking by silently. At the far end, Sanzio presented a blank computer. The clicking of a noisy keyboard allowed him entry.

“Welcome to the Chronicle of Memoirs, Urbino. What do you wish to know?”

“So. Say ‘Chronicle’ and then ask a question.” Sanzio took a seat, much less alarmed than one would expect.

“Chronicle! Where are the Relics?” Nobody barked.

“That’s not going to work.” Sanzio sighed, the inflection of irritation unmistakable.

“Unable to commence the search. Classified.” The Chronicle ceased all hope of finding the relics. Even this stash of history either had elements of its knowledge missing, or locked.

“Explain. How do you use this?” Nobody probed.

“Pose a question. Or several. It’ll sort through its files and use your words to single in on something. So if it’s information you desire, it doesn’t get much better than this.”

“So… Other than Relics, or items of a similar nature, I can figure out anything using this Chronicle of Memoirs?”

“That’s the idea.” Sanzio nodded.

“…” Nobody paused. In his next question, Sanzio detected a lingering sliver of woeful yet alien despondency. “Chronicle? Where is a girl named Sophie?”

“You can’t ask that. This system doesn’t accept names. If you want to find ‘Sophie,’ then you need to throw out her attributes. Does she, by any chance, ever wear armor? And a cape?”

“…Chronicle. I’m looking for someone with armor, and a cape.” Nobody admitted.

“Narrowing the search.”

“Does she share your love of swords?” Sanzio led him along.

“Indeed. Chronicle! I want somebody with unrivaled finesse in swordplay.”

“Narrowing the search.”

Sanzio crossed his fingers, putting one leg over the other. Under his mask, he was tempted to yawn. “And she’s a Delphic. I’m sure that’ll cut down the pool of participants.”

“How did you know she was a Delphic?” Nobody’s voice reverted to its cold and calculating equilibrium.

“Lucky guess.”

“…Chronicle. Show me only Delphics.”

“The search is complete. Thank you for using the Chronicle of Memoirs, Mister Urbino.” A name flashed onto the screen. Nobody leaned back, exhaling through his nose, taken aback.

“Enoch.” Sanzio read, before trying to hide laughter. He then questioned its origins in a joking fashion. “That means Sophie’s either gone, or the Chronicle is masking her existence. With that, you wouldn’t happen to know who Enoch is, would you? Haha!”

Nobody closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, before opening them again. “I recall. There was once somebody by that name. He was everything the profile fits- bright, masterful in combat. Fair and forgiving.”

“Is he? Well, what happened to him?”

“I executed him.” He revealed amidst an almost playful, ignorant shrug.

Nobody’s ear buzzed, and Aamon began preaching. “I’ve replaced all footage of you, or anyone, with looped inactivity from approximately twelve hours ago. I’ve also scanned the database, and I discovered the floorplans. Deep below ground, there is a chamber sanctioned from the public. Aamon ‘AA0001’ believes it may hold the Relic.”

“Then all is not lost. What am I to do?”

“Join me in the elevator, and I will bring us to the real bottom floor.”

The goal was met, and soon one member of the three factions were loitering in the capsule, at the bottom floor. “Herald is still waiting outside. That should give me plenty of time to find this vault. First, we need to examine its altitude.” Aamon elaborated.

“How do you think you’ll manage that, my dear?”

“With tenacity.” He plucked out his eyeball, and slipped it through the machinery he himself had already exposed. His elongated, metal optic nerve was pulled further and further out, never disconnecting. Somehow Aamon was able to lower his eye into the deepest catacombs of the CCT-Tower, through the elevator shaft.

“…Found it.” Aamon tampered with more wires, then fixed the gaping hole in which he previously created to bypass security. He sacrificed half his sight. Suddenly Nobody, Sanzio, and Aamon plummeted to a knee-breaking halt. And once entrance into cellar became a possibility, it was time to feast. Something this well-hidden, Nobody knew, granted power upon discovery. Dusty, stale air signified inactivity.

“An immense wealth of resources and time have been spent in trying to crack the code of these Relics. In the face of the Moth, Supreme Leader Caligula has ordered a scholar to dedicate his efforts towards the nature of Remnant’s history. His name is Horace. That flood of research goes straight to me.” Aamon was first to walk forward. After all, if he was stabbed through the back, he could always come back later. That luxury did not extend to Sanzio nor Nobody. “I am not kept in the dark on these matters, Nobody. I know Grimm can detect the Relic. So I ask you. Do you sense it?”

“You didn’t research enough.” Nobody pulled Aamon around and snatched him up by the chest. “Delphics are not Grimm. I have an Aura, and if that’s possible, I have a soul. You are nothing but junkyard scraps and flesh lost among a sea of clones, always in the shadow of the True Aamon. Know your place!”

“If you kill me, you will further Aamon’s ascension into immortality. There are only so many ways to subdue a purifier. You’d be a fool to waste them.”

Nobody nearly broke the cyborg’s neck with his slinging, but he had the wits to heed Aamon’s warning. He didn’t die. A reconciliation was needed within the ghastly catacombs of Vale while a dreaded chain of misfortunes would lead everyone else to the topmost levels.

Herald tried to act as inconspicuous as possible in response to one of Beacon’s brightest examples, who was well on her way inside the CCT-Tower. No surprise. This landmark was the greatest compilation of information in Sanus. Zara would not forfeit the investigation of Servus Portum.

“A resident of the White Fang? You again!?” She challenged.

“N-No! I was sent here, against my will might I add, for the prosperity of the Old Fang! You should know all about that, Miss Tir!”

“My name is not Tir!”

“Ah! I-I see. Accept my apology! I must’ve mistaken you for another!” He crumpled under her scathing words.

“What’s this malarkey about the Old Fang? What’s the difference?”

“Th-The White Fang stole from us! At least, our namesake. They’re far too aggressive! They’re asking for all the battles they get! But we were here first! At one time, we were all the faunus had. And then, our mistreatment, mostly from Servus Portum, caused a splinter-group to rebel from us! That group is the White Fang. And they now vastly outnumber us.”

“…The War of Flags? The White Fang was the Old Fang before that?”

“Yes. Err, it wasn’t just Servus Portum’s crimes. But they played a great deal in it. M-Me, my Lord, and my men are all that’s left of the Old Fang, in essence. And the Arbiter. He’s… a familiar fellow.”

“So really, the only difference between you and the White Fang is they’re more assertive.”

“They start wars. We negotiate, to preserve the will of the Arbiter, Kyradin Bael. Apparently, Caligula likes to discuss business with bombs.”

“Then why are you here? To negotiate? Negotiate me to the top floor.” Zara pushed him aside

“No! I cannot allow you! Th-There’s construction! Wet paint! You need a license!”

Dimitri ruffled through a rubbish bin. He had high hopes the relic was there, but all he found was a tossed sandwich. “Argh. Son of a… Eh. Honestly not even that bad.” He was stopped from wharfing down this feast as a result of Zara’s intervention. She, with Herald, toured onto the scene. “Well, well! Herald! Didn’t tell me you were swinging with faunus girls!”

“Who’s this fruitcake?” Zara mused at Herald.

“Hey! Name’s Dimitri! And who might you be, darling?” She was repulsed at his efforts to kiss her hand.

“This is Zara. I-I couldn’t stop her from coming up! Please don’t hurt me too much!” Herald kneeled, overcome with fear.

“What’re you blathering about, fool? It’s about time we pulled a lady into this heist!”

“Heist? You mean to tell me you were hiding some whack job who was trying to pull one over the CCT-Tower? Could you reach any higher for the stars?”

“Sure. I could reach for you, sweetie!”

“Ew, gross!” Zara swatted him away. “Sorry, but it’s my duty as a resident of Beacon to apprehend people like you, and bring them to justice! You’re going to have to come with me.”

“Aha, another hero! I’ll have to take note of you, missy. I have my eyes on another young lady from Beacon whom I long to rebuild into the perfect apprentice- my servant, on Remnant! She has promise. But should she fail, I could always return to you. I could do that. Or, I could butcher you, skin you, and use your hair as a rug. Your choice!” He wrangled his crowbar out of his shorts.

“No! No violence!” Herald, in a strange turn of events, found the courage to guard Zara. Allies were easily lost, it seemed.

“Step out of the ring, and sit down like a good little boy before I muzzle you.”

Dimitri proved himself the most formidable of fighters in the past. He had the cockiness fit for that title. That only made Zara more rash, especially once she’d been put on her back without landing a single hit. And Herald wasn’t even close to useless. He was far worse, somehow distracting her with his constant squeals and snorts.

“Yo.” Dimitri activated his line to the expert, Aamon. “Some faunus girl up here with hooks. Mind sending the cleanup crew?”

“I will be there myself, momentarily. Don’t do a thing until that happens.” He immediately recognized Zara’s presence from description alone. He couldn’t wait, lest any harm meet her.

“Magnificent. Don’t keep us waiting, Aamon. Show’s already over.”

“Aamon?” Zara gasped. “He’s here, too?”

“Well, yeah. What, you know him? Ha. You get around, don’t you?”

“More than I’d like.” Zara admitted. Now balanced on her feet again, the clarification of Aamon’s disembark into Vale had her condemning another melee. Everything blindly fixed itself in place when he trampled towards her in person, the sheen of his skin an affront to any primeval blessing. That was quick.

“Everybody, freeze.” Aamon followed his own advice. “Zara. Dimitri is not your enemy today. Do not alert the authorities. He is after the same thing I am, which will help you. The Relic inside Vale.”

“Relics? You mean those chess pieces we received at initiation? There’s tons of those back at Beacon Academy.”

“No. Those toys are just that: toys. What we need are powerful ornaments of a time more erased than forgotten. Older than you, and older than I. Their purpose, I cannot anticipate. But everything I know points to them being pivotal to the campaign, or prevention thereof, concerning Remnant. There is a woman named Salem.” Aamon’s joints beneath the face plating jittered even as his eye was long gone. “She wants the Relics. She is manipulating Supreme Leader Caligula as well-”

Dimitri, who’d reached beyond his boundaries and swiped away Herald’s blaster when nobody was watching, eviscerated Aamon with a bullet to the scalp.

Herald activated his semblance and floated flat on the floor, disgusted. “Argh!”

“Dimitri! What is wrong with you!?” Zara wiped an oil spurt off her stomach.

“Augustus has a binder chockfull with buzzwords like ‘Bipolar Three’ and ‘Tranquilizer Schedule Administered’ or ‘Violent Tendencies’ just for that question. Hahaha! But seriously, he was about to tattle. Can’t have that, can we?”

“So you murdered him!?”

“…Yeah. These things are a dime-a-dozen. Their scrap sells a good price! Sometimes, I use their bodies as scarecrows.”

“Scarecrows? No, that’s the other freak… Damn.” Zara tried to spot any portion of the room not stained with pistons or guts. “Every time I see this guy, he gets his head blown off.”

Herald reached for his weapon, only to turn stone-cold, sick in the face of the gun’s barrel. He wasn’t alone in recognizing the insanity complimentary of Dimitri. “Once I’m done here, I was thinkin’ a trip to the zoo. Yeah! I wanna go to the zoo with the most animals!”

“Really.” Zara soaked in the absurdity of her predicament. “The zoo with the most animals. Where’s that?”

“…Anima?”

“This is a waste of my time. I was hoping to look into Servus Portum using a computer. But forget that- Aamon is a gift. He’s a living textbook who wouldn’t lie, and now look. He’s dead!” She booted the remains, almost slipping on Aamon’s prosthetic blood in an outburst of frustration. “Thanks!”

“You wanna join him? Keep it up, champ.” The microphone was detached from Aamon’s cheek. Now, Dimitri was in control. “Nobody. Relic’s not here.”

“Nobody!? He’s here, too? Like, the Delphic guy with the sword?”

“Shhh!” He answered in harsh whispers. “Nobody! Where you at? Delphic! Respond! Is there a Delphic in the house? Paging ‘Doctor Delphic!’” A period of silence commenced. “My guess? He either found the Relic and split, or he didn’t and gave up. And I’d say that’s a pretty smart skit. If we can’t find the Relic here, than Salem stands no chance. Toodles!”

“So you’re just going to leave? Who’s going to clean this up?” Zara protested.

“You. Unless you want to take a vacation down to Augustus Correctional for infiltrating the CCT-Tower! Just leave me out of your story, as recompense for my letting you live. And who knows, I’d love another date sometime!” He winked before the elevator sealed him away for good.

Zara looked down at Herald. “Everyone thinks Aamon’s a bad guy, anyway. I could just pretend he attacked me. Keep the story running about how Victor wants me dead. Hey, we could blame him for all the other weird things Dimitri and Nobody did! No one would ever suspect you.”

“I-I suppose that works.”

“I’ll call Augustus then. Here’s the story. Aamon showed up alone and went on some sort of rampage. But I’m not waiting to paint him as a scapegoat. You’d better scram, now.”

His slick, light steps didn’t distract her from dialing the asylum. Now, she was the only individual who still waited in Vale’s seismic pillar, all others on the verge of disappearance or missing entirely. Nobody never received any transmission from Dimitri because he, with Sanzio, had removed the earpieces.

“That vault stored nothing.” He lamented, dragging himself down the steps without the usual grace or dignity he was known to flaunt. “The Moth still beckons. Tonight couldn’t have been a more costly sink of time or resources.”

“Admit it.” Sanzio followed him through the damp streets, their trajectory suggesting a trip into Summit’s Blight. “There’s no doubting your resolve to do away with this Moth. But that’s not the only reason you came here. Sophie. Whoever you were looking for, you were hoping this would be the answer. Abandon this path. She’s gone.”

“No.” A still holstered sword was now balanced on Sanzio’s shoulder. “You are not fit to refer to her by name. Speak once more, you die. And I will never let the past go. If I encounter you again, I won’t shy away from a war with the White Fang. Goodbye.”

Beacon Academy was never severely affected by the loss of Team Lance or Blazer. In truth, for now, they were little more than a footnote in one classroom, amidst an ever-growing outpour of students. But without them, their rivals were allowed to run rampant.

Lucifer leaned both his arms on a tree. It’s lively, wet leaves were exclusive to the Meridian. He could not take in the dying caws of birds, as something tragically drew his attention. Footsteps.

“Alecto. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“What? Don’t you trust me?” In her hand, a shaved shard of bark was being carved with a finger.

“…I’m just glad you’re finally making a map. It’s about time we switched gears. Getting out of here is what we should’ve been working on this entire time, instead of squabbling like children. What do you have so far?”

“Actually, I’m just using this to cover more ground, and find Beleth.”

Lucifer grabbed her arm, causing her to miss and scratch a giant tear in the wood. “What? And here I’d thought you’d finally regained your senses. Enough of these games! Give up your hunt for Beleth. This has gone on long enough.”

“It’s not over until he’s dead! You know not to lecture me. If you won’t help, leave me be. I can’t be held back by your weakness.”

“Weakness?” Lucifer tried not to yell. From behind him, Nadia popped into view. With her came an extra mouth to pester the Keraseer.

“A-Alecto. Please, listen to him. We can’t continue like this. If things don’t change, we’ll never return to Vale. The dance is in three days. You can stop this.” She beseeched. “If you apologize, I know Team Blazer will forget everything that’s happened.”

“Apologize!? Hahaha!” Alecto belittled these attempt to break through. “Saying sorry to a Delphic? The thought, it’s hysterical! Grow up.”

Alecto threw her arm forward to shove Nadia away. Lucifer wouldn’t let that happen. “What are you doing!?” He didn’t parry the violation as much as he absorbed it. “You’re not acting yourself! Snap out of it! Why are you doing this? Why are you so fascinated with pushing away your own friends?!”

When matched against each other, their pride only ever brought destruction. Alecto snapped her sketches in two and now had her sword aimed at Lucifer’s chest.

In his words awaited an incontrovertible amount of shock. “You would dare strike me down? Even after everything we’ve been though!?”

“N-No! I would never hurt my friends!”

Nadia stepped between them, pulling Alecto’s cutlass down. “Beleth was once your friend.”

“You’re wrong. He was never a friend.”

“That’s not true!” Somewhat mystified, Alecto had the rare opportunity to see Nadia angry. Not sad, or evasive, but irate. “You promised me the night I returned to you that there would be no more secrets! You promised! What is it about Beleth being a Delphic that’s done this to you? Tell the truth.”

“…I can’t.” Alecto backed away. “I-I can’t do it. Don’t ask again.”

“I thought you were my teammate.” Lucifer shook his head.

“I-I am!”

“Then what about when Lexy threw me through a wall? Twice! And who came to my side? Had it not been for Boreas, I would’ve drowned! What would you do? Who would take care of Selene? Do you not care about me at all!?”

Selene rose through a field of raised grass. “L-Lucifer? Is everything okay?” All eyes were on her. Then, Alecto sprinted away without another word. Unlike Nadia’s episode earlier in the year, she met no resistance in this action.

“…Ugh. Why does she have to make me like this? Does she think I enjoy it?” Lucifer undid his mask, and held his head in his hands.

“This can’t be any easier on her. Whatever she’s hiding, it must be big.” Nadia consoled him. “I hope she went somewhere safe.”

“She went back to that crone, Eleanor. All she does is stoke the fires.”

“L-Lucifer, wait! Where are you going?” Selene, with Merlin’s help, managed to cut in front of him.

“I need to confront Eleanor. She took your tiara. I will not have her crime go unpunished. We have to take it back.”

“What’s so important about it? If you don’t mind my asking.” Nadia said. “Isn’t the Rhinestone a greater priority?”

“…You never know. Remember initiation? The culmination of our work was upheld by that tiara. It could be a powerful weapon. After all, what else could best Grover?”

“I don’t know if I believe that.” She lowered her hood over her face. “I have a confession to make. The tiara didn’t destroy Grover, even if it did blind all of us. I took him out- or at the very least, forced him to retreat. I wasn’t just present for the end. I was always there. During that flash of light, I used the strongest venom I had.”

“…So it was you.” Lucifer smiled. “But that blinding effect was still from Selene’s tiara. I’ll tell you all about it as soon as I have it back.”

“Really? You will? C-Can I help?” Selene feared she already knew the answer. Her suspicions were correct when Lucifer gave a simple nod back and forth. With that, they parted ways. He journeyed deeper into Terra Insanire while his compatriots covered the flanks.

North of Terra Insanire reigned Summit’s Blight. Even further past that, dismissing the hell that was Servus Portum, a faunus waited in a peninsula seemingly cut straight from the Meridian and airlifted here. The land bared the swaying of waves far below. As did Nomad. Around the sign of Zenith, past the bridge, and through the baroque doors he moped, into the modest mansion.

“Kalthus? You took back the Rhinestone. Why give it away to begin with?” He asked. Ahead, behind a wall of static sheets and transparent radars, he saw what he’d come for: an Oathkeeper clad in bloody rags.

“The Thinker had lost his way. We wouldn’t want his friends to be distraught, would we? But I’d say it served its purpose- he could certainly do without it for a little while.”

“What use is it to you, though? The extent of its power is opening doors.” Nomad removed Idol’s Cloak and folded it onto a sofa, though he wouldn’t take a seat himself.

“A Rhinestone has many mythical properties. Its adverse effect on Grimm stopped Nobody from ending Team Lance’s journey early. And as a ‘Beryl’ modifier, when paired with Atlesian tech, the results are quite fascinating.”

“What kind of phenomenon occur? Are you looking for something? What do these diagrams show?”

“…Tales of a different sort, I’m sorry to say. But on the subject of Atlas, their approach grows ever imminent. The Kingdom played their cards well, but it’s past time they left this little game of ours. They’ll arrive long before the pitiful ‘Servus Portum’ does. Puzzles of the Blight will occupy the Purifiers long enough in that regard. Only we understand the mountain’s secrets. If anything, I’d be most concerned with Nobody.”

Nomad nodded, the advice sinking in. “Everything is closing in on us. The Delphic tried speaking to me. He thought there was a new enemy entering the stage.”

“Hmph. He thought this, he thought that. Preposterous. A Grimm doesn’t have the soul to think. Only instinct drives such a scourge to attempt discourse.”

“It doesn’t matter what Nobody is. What matters is, he spoke true. The Moth beckons, he told me.”

“The Moth. Such a being dwells in the darkness, constantly chasing the light. Perhaps to capture it, or more inclined to smother it. Salem’s eyes are on you, Nomad. But it’s only expected Nobody would be her first choice. An alliance with their kind will be, well, fruitless at the very most. This Moth will receive no aid from us. If we’re lucky, all travelers will have such foresight.”

“Is it really wise to ignore so key a combatant? We shouldn’t even fight her?” Nomad’s suggestion brought an end to the barrier of binary graphs. “Her message seems to be spreading more than anything we can muster.”

“Well, then. She is little more than a messenger. Leave the Moth to her demons. There are more pressing matters concerning Team Lance. The White Fang already tore them apart once, and now a Delphic threatens to do it again.”

“I thought they’d escaped Nobody. Must I rescue them a third time?”

“It wasn’t Nobody. One of the students of Beacon, Beleth, is at odds with the Keraseer. Even now, the spawn of Trajan forces our plans to hang between chaos and failure. And yet, on the opposite end, one of Clotho’s kin aims to derail everything. Without young Selene’s dust, we’ll be giving the enemy another shot at the Sacred Embers.”

Nomad waited for more, sensing the need to join this conflict himself. Idol’s Cloak swung back to his shoulders.

“Time is nearly nonexistent. Though for them, it really is nonexistent, in a manner of speaking. Were you aware of Terra Insanire’s time element? Aging is an impossibility. You could theoretically become immortal, so long as you never leave its territorial landmarks. If you exit its boundaries, time will catch up.”

“So another Delphic besides Nobody lives. Which one is a descendant of-”

“Look what the fools wrought! Alecto is completely beyond our control. And now we’ve lost the tiara!”

“Control yourself. Can’t we just use the Delphic instead? As for the tiara, the slave of Clotho must still have it- no one can escape that place as they stand now. I can still get it back.” Nomad, despite having just arrived, was ready and waiting to enter Terra Insanire. It was about time he’d entered this battleground.

“…You’re right. Beleth might do away with a Lorekeeper, but he himself can fill the role. It would be little more than replacement. And if he doesn’t slay her, there’ll need to be no further action needed on our part.”

The Beryl Rhinestone glittered through the air, into the outstretched hand of the Cursed Faunus.

“Take care of it, Nomad.”

Entry No. 7 complete.

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