Chapter 43
And you're absolutely sure?" Adam's mask stared straight at him.
The hissing of sewage filled his extra pair of ears, coupled with the shoes of the green recruits marching and splashing over it.
Nyx shrugged. "Found the faunus girl pinned to the wall, no one else around it, and this thing. Look familiar?"
He chucked the blood-soaked badge in the shape of a sword, tapping the floor with his boot.
His scroll kept vibrating.
Ugh. Was it too late to put it on total silence?
Weiss could be really persistent—unsurprisingly—as she was his girlfriend. It was probably something in common between the two of them. Something that brought them together like glue. Or a pair of magnets with opposite poles.
"The Resolutionists," Adam said, the badge crunching in his fist.
"The who?" Nyx asked, cracking his neck more out of habit than any real need.
"A cult of humans intent on sacrificing faunus to some dark god." Adam huffed, his breath fogging up the air. "They surfaced decades ago, but they were eventually destroyed. Why return now? Now when we're so close to real change?"
Of course. If there was a White Fang, then there probably was a human equivalent. Something along the lines of doing what the other humans could not do. Or did not have the stomach to do so.
Nyx hummed. "Beats me. Nut-jobs don't really need reasons to do what they do, do they?"
"What about the girl?" Adam asked. "The one with the purple hood?"
"Oh, her?" Nyx said, stifling a yawn. "Went home. You know how it is. Green recruits from college don't mix well with disembowelled little girls."
The ghost-ninja perched outside the slums—sitting on a roof and waiting to take him back to Weiss—but Adam did not need to know that.
Adam clicked his tongue. "So it would seem. We'll remember this, Nyx. Our brothers and sisters won't stand for this, and if the humans are so brazen as to attack us here—in the city they proclaim a safe haven for all—then perhaps it's time for more immediate and drastic measures."
"Like more rallies, you mean?" Nyx asked. "Maybe a boycott?"
"No," Adam replied, shaking his head. "I must convene with the other officers and plan for the road to our future."
"You don't need me to sniff around? Maybe I could stop—"
"Worry about the mission in seven days. Leave this one to me."
Nyx pushed himself off the wall. He loped back the winding maze, water dripping with every step he took.
There was definitely something fishy with Adam's almost nonchalance. The Taurus guy should have been more concerned about faunus dying on their own turf. More concerned about the immediate safety of his people—and not dicking around with his plans for the future or something. In fact, it almost seemed like Taurus welcomed the return of the Resolutionists.
Whoever they really were.
Maybe he needed to dig around in Atlas' military database. His new credentials would come in handy—particularly in researching Cinder Fall and whatever the cloak-and-dagger conspiracy really was brewing in the shadows. And whatever it really was that connected Ozpin's cane to everything else.
There was a storm coming. Maybe the stormy afternoon he and Weiss met foreshadowed it. Well, if their lives were a book. But still, Nexus Shade would be damned if he was going to let whatever it was waiting in the future catch him with his pants down. The mask in his pocket already did that—and look where it got him.
Nex heaved a sigh, staring at the stars as they twinkled. The commercial district was empty, save for the usual patrols making their rounds—apparently Ironwood's idea. "Fuck. It's work as an Atlesian nark, huh?"
"What did Taurus say?" Blake said, landing beside him. Stealthy as ever.
"Something about the Resolutionists. Human cult that targets faunus," Nex said, shrugging as he shoved his hands into his pockets. His left hand brushed his vibrating scroll—and the other, cold and hard porcelain. "Wait, I gotta take this. I think we've had enough lover's quarrel for one day."
Nex placed his scroll to his ear, the cold gnawing at his earlobe. Hopefully, Mt. Weiss already cooled down—even a little. "Hey, Weiss."
The ghost-ninja matched his pace as they crossed the bridge, a frown tugging on her lips.
"Nex," Weiss whispered. Something wet hitched up her throat. Had she been crying—like that one time in the hospital? Fuck. "Why haven't you answered your scroll?"
"I think if I told you now," Nex said, heaving a sigh. "You'll lock me out of the room. And tell security to get me."
"Where are you?" Weiss muttered.
"Near the hotel," Nex said, "and coming home. I guess. It's where my heart is, right? Or maybe you meant what you said this morning and you don't..."
He swallowed. The words clogged in his throat. If she meant what she said, then...
Fuck.
Weiss giggled. A short one. And it died as soon as it was born. "I'll wait for you. Blake's there, isn't she?"
"Yep. The ghost-ninja's with me," Nex said, nodding. "She'll be staying in a room next to us, right?"
Weiss hummed. Maybe even smiling. "See you soon, Mr Shade. Don't keep your Miss Schnee waiting."
Nex grinned, even as she hung up. "Wouldn't dream of it."
"So you're going to tell her?" Blake said, running her hand over the railing.
"Maybe," Nex said, licking his dry lips. He pushed his scroll back into his pocket.
Could he though? He really had no precedent when it came to the tell me your deepest and darkest secrets department. Most of the time, he stayed in the make half-assed excuses, lie, and hope everything doesn't go to shit department—and for good reason. Ending up in chains somewhere in an Atlesian prison was every irreputable's nightmare come true.
Maybe Roman Torchwick had a point. And maybe breaking their relationship off was the best option for both of them. Or maybe running off somewhere never to be seen again. Maybe dig himself a six-foot-deep hole and bury himself in it. Fuck. A lot of maybes. And no answers to any of them. Or maybe there were no answers at all. And the truth was nowhere to be found for the first time.
Pareidolia shrunk into a mewl. No answers to be found with his semblance either. Maybe it was time to go directly to the source.
And ask her.
"You should," Blake said, her lips a thin line. "Nothing kills what you and Weiss have faster than secrets."
Nex kicked a stray rock, watching as it skipped a few times over the street. "Speaking from experience? Maybe an ex lurking in the background?"
"Let's just say that sometimes you don't know people well enough," Blake said, her words almost a whisper. "When it comes down to it—it turns out you never knew them at all." She coughed. "And when that moment comes, and it'll come, you'll find out just how much they really care about you."
The ghost-ninja never said anything more. At least, until they arrived at the glass doors of the hotel, the soft, amber light flitting through its walls. Plush couches, tables, and pretty much everything an average civilian might need from an establishment to stay the night—or a few weeks in their case.
The attendant up front inspected their scrolls. She gave them the keys to their respective rooms a second later. Her eyes lingered on their extra pair of ears, a faint—and polite—smile on her lips.
"Be careful with Taurus," Blake said as they slipped out of the elevator. "He's not what he seems to be."
She spun, trotting to her room—just across theirs.
"So, he's not an officer of a highly dangerous terrorist organization?" Nex said, quirking an eyebrow.
"He is," Blake muttered, craning her neck and shooting him a quick glance. "But he's the type of guy who doesn't care about the methods—only the results. At least, not anymore. Well, he used to be... You get the point."
"Huh," Nex said as the ghost-ninja's door slammed shut. "Sounds like my type of guy. Not that I'm any better."
He faced the door to their room, his arm hovering on the terminal. His scroll sat in his hand, waiting for him to grow a pair—just like that one afternoon in the library. Only this time, there was a lot more at stake than just a few hours and a wasted trip. This time, everything was at stake. And for the first time, his cards were laid out on the table.
Well, part of his deck.
"Fuck," Nex mumbled, staring at the blue letters. The air-conditioned breeze seeped through his jacket, chilling the bones of his skeletons. "Nexus Shade. You can infiltrate a terrorist cell without batting an eye, slaughter dozens of Grimm, and survive ten years without parents. As a faunus. In Atlas. You sure as hell can talk to your girlfriend. Argument or not."
And maybe even have the Artificer spell everything out for the—for his Maiden, and see if somehow, just somehow, everything would turn out just like the fairy tales.
The door swung open.
Weiss frowned, already dressed in a white camisole. "So, are you just going to stand there talking to yourself or are you going to come in?"
"Of course I'm coming in," Nex said, padding into their room. "I'm just... working up some courage, I guess."
He stripped off his clothes and left them in the bin, leaving him bare and only in his boxers.
"Is it really that hard to be honest with me?" Weiss said, her hand wrapping around his as she led him to their bed. "Is it that hard to just let me in?"
"Let you in?" Nex said, raising an eyebrow.
They plopped down on the edge of the bed, the cushion bouncing back against their combined weight. She took his hands and pressed them over her warm and smooth lap.
"I know all about your work for Ironwood," Weiss said, staring into his eyes. "I can keep a secret. You don't have to hide it. You don't need to lie to me anymore."
"I know," Nex said, breathing a sigh. Maybe it was better to let her think that, instead of the alternative. But still. "I'm a real piece of shit, aren't I?"
Even now, he was fibbing. Letting her believe he was someone else. Maybe even denying who he really was. But maybe it was exactly what a chronic liar like him would do. Right?
Weiss scowled, her grip tightening. "Don't say that. You're starting to sound like my brother."
"I take it you don't see eye-to-eye then?" Nex asked, managing a tiny smile.
"Whitley never liked Winter or me. Or mom," Weiss mumbled, a yawn slipping through her lips. "I guess it runs in the men in my family."
"Right," Nex said, stroking the ridge of her palm. "Makes me glad I won't be having dinner with them in the foreseeable future. Gods forbid."
"You might want to reconsider that," Weiss said, chuckling as she eased him onto the bed. She pushed into the warm sheets, lying on top of him. Her familiar scent—vanilla and baby blue—suffused his nose. "My father insists on my annual birthday party. It'll be full of important people. You know the type."
"You want me to come," Nex said, grinning. "I get it. You're scared that some guy like Silverstain might flirt with my Weiss-angel."
Weiss huffed as she shuffled closer, their shared warmth wrapping around his bones, more when she slipped a blanket over them. "If it were up to me, Mr Shade, it'd be just the two of us on a beach somewhere. Alone. Sharing some coffee. But my mom wants to meet you, and my father demands that I present you as my..."
She trailed off, her cheeks glowing beet red.
"What?" Nex said, pecking her chin. "It's just a birthday party, right?"
To be fair, the only experience he had with birthday parties was with Mekel. And maybe even Roman and Neo. Three criminals. Not a very good track record there.
"Fiance. We. A couple." Weiss cleared her throat. "You do understand what I'm getting at, right?"
Nex hummed. A few months ago, the question might have stopped his brain in its tracks. "Of course I do. I'm dense. Not stupid. I know how to read a dictionary."
But still. Maybe it was a little too soon. Or maybe it was because he still lacked the balls to cough up the exact truth.
"You're not objecting," Weiss said, her lips twitching. "We can refuse. It's just formality because the heiress of the SDC is finally coming of age..."
"Are you objecting?" Nex asked, running his fingers across her thigh. "To us, I mean. It's not too soon, is it?"
"I don't know. Maybe it is. Maybe I just miss you." Weiss chuckled. "But... You know this kind of thing is pretty common in Atlas, and I want you more than some random bureaucrat who's only in it for my family name." She sighed, her minty breath flush on his neck. "I know we have our disagreements and differences but..."
Weiss Schnee trailed off. Again. Well, to be fair, arranged marriages were probably common in Atlas. Among important people, at least. She herself only got out of her prospective and unwanted beaus about a year ago.
"You know," Nex said, breathing a sigh of his own. "That's the first time you've used a lot of maybes."
"Recent events notwithstanding?" Weiss said, arching an eyebrow. "Kidding aside, I always knew you weren't just an ordinary huntsman-in-training."
Nex swallowed a wad of spit. "How come?"
"I mean, I've been thinking, there has to be a reason why my lab partner was always off running somewhere," Weiss said, her fingers trailing down his elbow. "He always looks so tired in school. Like he never gets enough sleep. That, or he can't get enough sleep. And suddenly, it all makes sense."
"You know I used to train until the crack of dawn every day, right?" Nex said, shivering. "Plus, I had to do a lot of part-time stuff, and there's my old job as a bartender—"
Weiss giggled as she stroked his hair, her eyes glinting in the darkness. "Which I'm sure are pretty good cover stories for an Atlesian nark or whatever. But you don't need to impress me with your guile. I just want to see you, Nex. Just like how you always saw me."
The air-conditioner hummed—some sort of accompaniment to the rumbling in his chest, his freshly eaten bagels acting up in his stomach.
Fuck.
Was he really doing this? Leading her on and letting her draw her own flawed conclusions? Half-lies, half-truths, and lies of omission just to save his own skin—and to preserve whatever it was between them? Was it even love, anymore? If all he was going to do was lie between his teeth every time she pried into his past—
"I can't do this anymore," Nex muttered. Fuck it. He might as well draw back the curtain and face his one-woman audience. "Listen—"
"Tell me about your job," Weiss said, pursing her lips. "Infiltrating and investigating the White Fang. Alone. Is it really as dangerous as Blake says?"
Nex sighed, the Artificer's words dying in his chest. There really was no stopping her when she wanted something. And maybe this time, that something was him, despite everything that could get in their way. That was getting in their way. "Nope. Not really. As long as I don't do anything stupid, then I should be fine. So don't worry about me."
"I seriously hope you don't expect me to do that," Weiss said. "I can't help but worry, Nex. I love you. And I don't want to wake up tomorrow and find out you're dead in a ditch somewhere."
"I won't—"
"So you're saying you're immortal?" Weiss asked, fixing him a glare. With her on top of him, pinning him down, there really was no escape. "That you're not going to die if someone like Roman Torchwick shot you in the back?"
Roman would not. His fellow thief still needed the virus as well as a backup plan along the lines of Neopolitan and Project Artificer in case shit hit the toilet. Probably the reason why said Artificer received no calls from Cinder Fall and his double identity was still kept secret, even under threats of immolation. After all, it would be easy enough for Roman to let slip the name of his mysterious hacker. And Nexus Shade would be neck-deep in a metric fuckton of trouble.
But that was definitely not the answer Weiss would want to hear.
"No," Nex said, his lids drooping. "Guess I'm not."
"Exactly," Weiss said. "That's why I'm coming with you."
What?
"Sorry," Nex muttered as she rested her head on his shoulder, her soft lips brushing his neck. "I must've heard wrong."
"You have two pairs of ears, Mr Shade. And you've always been a good listener." Weiss giggled into the crook of his neck, her voice quivering in his clavicle. "There's no way you didn't hear me right."
"It's dangerous. Stupid. And insane," Nex said, his thumb caressing the small of her back. "Plus, if the White Fang finds the heiress of the SDC on their turf—"
"They won't. I'm sure you'll find some way to disguise me," Weiss said, lifting her head to face him. "It can't be worse than waiting here, not knowing when you'll come back. If you'll come back."
She stared at him—pale blue eyes rimmed with red peering into his. Her lustrous hair lay in shambles, her fringe coiling around her forehead like a pack of snakes. Make-up raced down her cheeks in waves of pink, white, and red. Fuck. She had been crying then. Probably worried sick because he could not answer his scroll. Or maybe it was more along the lines of would not rather than could not.
In hindsight, he was probably avoiding her. Dreading their current conversation, thinking she would be madder and angrier than she actually was—especially since he just joined the revolution. Or... maybe the words she spoke before he left just... hurt. As irrational as it was. But still, instead of starting an argument, she was here talking to him, and she even wanted to come with him—to help him.
"What about your return as a musician?" Nex asked, licking his lips. "You wanted to do some new songs, right?"
"I'm sure we'll manage over a year or so," Weiss said. "I've been thinking of an acoustic album."
"And you want me to play." Nex chuckled. "You're surprisingly devious tonight, Miss Schnee."
"What can I say, Mr Shade?" Weiss said, cupping his cheek—just like the first time they shared a smooch. "My fiance happens to be an Atlesian spy in the kingdom's service."
"And he's a bad influence, isn't he?" Nex said.
Laughter spilt from his throat—for some reason. Or maybe it was because their conversation was leading not to him being kicked out of the room and having to run away from cops.
"He is," Weiss said, pecking his lips. Her voice joined his laughter. Quiet at first. "But he's also an inspiration. My inspiration."
Nex raised an eyebrow. "An inspiration? Me? You sure you've got the right guy?"
"I'm sure," Weiss whispered. "Are you sure you've got the right girl?"
"Maybe—"
"Maybe?" Weiss fixed him a glare, a smile lifting the corner of her lips.
Nex shook his head. "Nope. I'm sure. I can't imagine having grey hair with anyone else."
Wess giggled, beaming as her fingers drew circles around his chest. "You know it's tradition for all Schnees to have white hair, don't you?"
"If your father is anything to go by..." Nex said, smirking as she snorted and laughed, her voice tinkling in his extra pair of ears. "I want to keep my awesome hair. But I'm impartial to Nexus Schnee, I guess. It doesn't sound that bad."
There were probably worse last names he could take. But still. A question burned at the back of his brain—something even Pareidolia could not answer.
"Does your father dye his crotch?" Nex snickered, a grin stretching his cheeks. "I mean, it's hair, right?"
Weiss pouted, flicking his arm. "That's not a thought I ever want to think about... And now, it's stuck in my head." She mirrored his grin. "Please, Mr Shade. Do something to take my mind off it."
"Should we play some chess?" Nex said, humming. "Checkers? Cards? Just like last night, or—"
Weiss placed a finger on his lips, her other hand slipping off the strap of her camisole. Her pale, creamy shoulder glowed, like it was the first time it ever left the confines of her dress.
"I think we can play something more..." Weiss said, her voice sinking into the back of her throat. "Intimate and immature."
She winked, flashing him a coy smile as she arched her back like a cat. Her lean thighs smothered his crotch. Almost as if it was a pillow.
"Take the rest off for me, Mr Shade?" Weiss whispered.
Nex smiled, his fingers climbing her toned arms and tugging at the other strap. "Since you asked so nicely. How could I refuse?"
The Artificer nudged the back of his head. But he could tell his Maiden all about his secrets in the future. They had it in spades, after all.
A lifetime of it in fact.
Right?
Chapter 44
Nex flicked his scroll open, tapping Ironwood's mug. "Hey, boss-general."
The big man picked up the line a few seconds later, static crackling in the background. Even after building four towers and the CCT, buffering and bad signal were still a thing, especially since Atlas was hundreds of leagues up north from Vale. Between Grimm, inhospitable terrain, and turbulent weather, the CCT had its work cut out for it.
"Technician-Developer Shade," Ironwood said, sipping on some liquid. Probably his daily lunch coffee. "I trust you have something important to personally report?"
"Is the line secure?" Nex asked, whispering.
The iron railing chilled his arm.
"Of course it is," Ironwood said. "With the latest advancements in ACD encryption tech."
"That's good. I'm gonna need a favour," Nex said, lowering his voice. "Something along the lines of access to the vehicle and train logs of Vale, your unofficial official data on the dust thefts, and your secret secret files on the White Fang and the Resolutionists. Sound familiar?"
"A deranged cult, nothing more. One that died out a long time ago," Ironwood said, scoffing. "What I fail to understand is the connection between the three, and why you want access to information beyond your clearance."
"Last night, I managed to install myself as a model member of the White Fang," Nex said, smirking. It was a pretty awesome achievement. "While patrolling the slums, I found a girl nailed to the wall, the Resolutionists' bloody calling card at her feet."
"Unsurprising. But impressive work. Hustling for a promotion, aren't you?" Ironwood said, chuckling. The good general did sound genuinely impressed. "You think there's a connection?"
"I'm rarely wrong when it comes to patterns and connections, so trust me on this one," Nex said. He had his semblance, after all. The world was just a giant jigsaw puzzle with it. "Know of any Tauruses in the White Fang? He's a big shot, apparently."
"Adam Taurus, a terrorist affiliated with the White Fang and wanted in all four kingdoms," Ironwood said. Something beeped on the good general's end. "His files say he was conscripted into the SDC mines at a young age. Now, he acts as a commanding officer of the White Fang."
"Conscripted?" Nex said, quirking an eyebrow.
It failed to line up with what Jacques told him. Surprising, considering how the man seemed honest with him. Or unsurprising, if one looked at it another way.
"Saying that he was taken from his home in the frontier and enslaved as a child would be carelessly blunt, yet much more accurate," Ironwood said. "You must understand, Developer Shade, that the SDC's methods have only mellowed out over the recent years, mostly due to the efforts of the White Fang."
"Right," Nex said, breathing a sigh. But still. He had to ask. "So, why aren't you doing anything about it?"
"The SDC supplies dust to the four kingdoms, arming our soldiers and powering our cities. I'd even say that their early years of cutthroat business policies were necessary for Atlas' development," Ironwood said. "At some point, Mr Shade, our hands are tied behind our backs, and we must look away and turn to see the larger picture."
Of course. Nothing new there. But still, to hear it from the good general's lips. From a supposed paragon of virtue who led one of the prestigious huntsmen academies—the so-called guardians of humanity, destined to lead all of Remnant in the fight against the literal, soulless manifestations of evil.
Well, not that he was any better.
"Just like how we overlooked your illegal and unsanctioned use of the Mantle Frequency," Ironwood resumed. "As the death of the SDC's heiress within Atlas' walls would deliver a widespread and crippling blow to our people's morale. It would send the Grimm marching."
To be fair, Ironwood had a point.
Maybe working on the side of—gods forbid—the good guys was pretty much the same as working on the side of the criminals. Only this time, the police and the huntsmen had his back instead of the other way around. Plus, he had a stable, high-paying salary, actual health insurance, and whatever resources he needed, whenever he wanted, to develop some new gizmos.
Maybe the Artificer could go look for greener pastures and just up and disappear from the underworld like a ghost. Well, after he tied up the loose ends and ensured they never came undone in the future.
It was something to think on at least. Weiss would probably appreciate it. Him becoming the real deal instead of just being phony and maybe even a fake.
"I'll update your credentials so you have access to the data you need," Ironwood said. "If you encounter the Resolutionists, do not use your mother's sword or shield. The Oathkeeper. Vigilance. They'll know who you really are."
What?
"Oathkeeper? Vigilance?" Nex asked, scratching the back of his neck. "My mom?"
Oathkeeper sat in the closet with Hrunting and Vigilance, practically waiting for Weiss to finish with her shower so they could prepare her disguise for the night. A brunch consisting of hotel food had been had so they could spend the afternoon at their leisure. Definitely a date even if neither of them said anything about it.
"Amariss never told you her history?" Ironwood said. He sighed. "Well, I suppose she never had the chance."
"You're going to tell me then," Nex said, licking his dry lips. "What's the connection between my mom and the Resolutionists?"
"A long time ago, a group of huntsmen-in-training stamped out the Resolutionists," Ironwood said. "Team STRQ and Team SSJW of Beacon Academy, working together on a first mission gone awry."
"That's my mom's team," Nex said. As well as his father's, his girlfriend's parents, and his friends' moms and dads. Fuck. "You think they're holding a grudge?"
"The criminally insane are unpredictable," Ironwood said. "It's best to be wary at all times, especially in our current situation." He cleared his throat with a short cough. "If that's all, Mr Shade, you're dismissed."
"Uh, one last thing. I'll send you a full report later, but," Nex said, "the White Fang will move in six days to quote-unquote liberate some faunus. Taurus wants me to come."
"Keep me posted," Ironwood replied. "Dismissed."
The line beeped off.
By the time he finished sorting Ironwood's data into documents to be analysed with his semblance, Weiss was already dressed in her combat outfit, Myrtenaster attached to her hip, her cloak falling down the small of her back. She stood by the glass pane, a beaming smile on her lips and she parked a hand on her waist.
"Ready, Mr Shade?" Weiss asked, arching an eyebrow. "I think we should look for clothes first."
Nex shrugged, returning her smile. She looked so much better than she did last night, the red rim around her eyes gone, her shoulders loose instead of bunched up in knots. "Ready as I'll ever be. What about your weapon though?"
Myrtenaster looked distinct, even for a plain Multi-Action Variable Dust Rapier. Some of the White Fang goons would probably recognize the weapon the heiress of the SDC used.
"I was thinking that's more of your department," Weiss said as they stepped out of their room and locked the doors and windows via scroll. "You can make me a different one, can't you?"
Nex hummed, matching her pace down the stairs and through the lobby. "It'd take time to make a slightly different replica of Myrtenaster. Time we don't have."
"I see," Weiss said, a deep frown on her lips. "I seriously hope you don't expect me to go weaponless."
"Don't worry," Nex said, grinning as he unclasped his bracer and swiped his index over it. "Here. Try this on."
He tossed his nano-tech bracer at her as they stepped onto the bustling sidewalk. She caught it, fiddling with the silvery metal between her hands. Her eyes lingered on the golden wolf cut into its surface, even as the nanobots fizzled, melting down like mercury into the size of a ring. Even then, the wolf was still there—just smaller on the top.
"Put some aura into it, think of a weapon you like, and watch the magic happen," Nex said, his grin stretching up his eyes. "It's experimental, prototype Atlesian tech, but I managed to cannibalize my little inspirations into it. And a lot of dust. You could say it's one of a kind. Artificer-special."
It took a lot of work—partly the reason why he never did some of his assignments—and a lot of dust—exactly why he ran out of it. What could he possibly say? Fiddling with the tech killed boredom, and it was way more interesting than Beacon's curriculum. But now, it was turning out to be so fucking worth it.
Weiss huffed, shooting him an amused glance. "Already putting a ring on me, fiance of mine? This is surprisingly romantic of you."
Nex shrugged as he pulled down his coat's sleeve. "Wouldn't you prefer a ring of, I dunno, diamonds and pearls instead of nano-bots?"
Weiss smiled and bumped his shoulder. "A ring that turns into a sword has got to be the dream engagement ring of any huntress."
"You think Rubes might get jealous?" Nex asked, chuckling.
Weiss laughed—and he joined in as they strolled down the busy street, the mindless chatter of civilians filling his extra pair of ears.
Nex grinned at the blazing afternoon sun. His partner really was the gift that kept on giving.
And maybe—just maybe—the future would turn out to be okay.
"So, how do I look?"
Weiss beamed as she did a three-sixty, spinning on her heels like a ballerina upstage. The sparse, afternoon-shoppers in the huntsman boutique spared her a glance or two, but she did not garner as many looks as he did from the other huntsmen and huntresses picking out their own accessories.
But, well, it was nothing new.
Maybe it was better they glared at the filthy faunus instead of recognizing the heiress of the SDC and pulling out their cameras to snap some stolen shots like that one tabloid did. There really was no point in fame, despite what the important people in Atlas had the less-important ones believe.
"Mr Shade?" Weiss said, smirking as she parked her hand on her hip. "Don't tell me you're struck speechless now, after what you've already seen and touched."
Nex shrugged, blinking back into his current situation. Right. Shopping. The clothes. Her hair. "I dunno. I mean, you look a bit... Not you, I guess?"
Weiss Schnee wore a dark-blue jacket and cowl complete with his hood-turned-scarf looped around her waist, her emblem folded on the inside. The cowl shadowed her forehead down to the tip of her nose.
Well, at least when she put it on.
Right now, her new haircut—a shoulder-length bob parted to the left, with the tip of her waves resting on her clavicle—crowned her face and covered her scar as Winter's fringe did. It also made her look like the younger Willow in the old team portrait with his mom. But still, her signature side-ways ponytail was gone—a practical compromise due to the necessity of a cowl.
A black choker finished the look, while a golden, metallic wolf hung off one side of her neck. She also wore a pair of black jeans and steel-tipped, spiky boots.
All in all, it looked like Weiss Schnee just underwent an edgy phase and evolved from a world-renowned, classical operatic singer to just plain, screaming underground emo.
"That's the point of a disguise, isn't it?" Weiss said, arching her one visible eyebrow. "I doubt even my sister could recognize me in this... alternative getup." She sighed, scratching her cheek. "It does itch a bit though. I wonder how Winter could fight with this haircut."
Nex shrugged, reaching into his pocket. "We need to do something about your scent."
Weiss frowned, her eyes darting to the other patrons. "My scent?" she hissed.
"Some faunus could probably smell human up close," Nex whispered, pushing the container into her hand. "Spray the thing all over yourself and you should be fine."
"Dare I even ask?" Weiss shoved the box into her tight-looking pocket.
"It's, well..." Nex said, heat creeping up his cheeks. "Contacts. And perfume. Distilled essence of the wolf."
"Care to elaborate further?" Weiss asked.
"The contacts simulate faunus night-vision, and the perfume is basically a cocktail of my signature scent mixed with a wolf-ified version of yours," Nex said, tapping the tiles with the tip of his boot. "Other faunus... Well, in Mantle, I'm told faunus smelling like another faunus is practically—"
"I think I understand where you're going with this," Weiss said, smirking even as pink dusted her cheeks. "You're all kinds of romantic today, aren't you?"
Nex rolled his eyes, his lips tilting into an easy smile. "What can I say? I'm making up for acting like a real ass and leaving my girlfriend alone crying."
Weiss scoffed, raising her chin. "Just so you know, Nexus Shade, I didn't cry. Although I distinctly remember my boyfriend acting like he says he did."
"Of course, of course," Nex said, snorting as he killed the laugh in his chest. "Ice queens don't cry, right?"
"And edge lords do?" Weiss said, quirking an eyebrow, a lopsided grin on her lips.
Nex shrugged, his smile widening. Touche.
Weiss winked and stepped into the fitting room, probably to change back into her regular combat outfit.
It took her about ten minutes to change into her usual white coat and skirt combo, Myrtenaster clipped to her belt and her cropped hair let loose, framing her face.
They exited the boutique and stepped into the rest of the mall, with him carrying a couple of sets of her new outfit in two big shopping bags. How some guys could actually bear going to malls every day was a mystery, and—
"Miss Weiss Schnee!"
A tall, willowy white-haired woman dressed in a burgundy coat and skirt stood in front of them, adjusting her spectacles as she flashed them a smile. She clutched a pen and notepad, her hands shaking. Her eyes darted to his extra pair of ears, then down to his feet, her lips a taut line.
Right. Nothing new there.
"Is it true that this... man carrying your purchases is your lover?" the woman said, the tip of her pen hovering on her notepad. "I'm Caroline Lavender from The Valean Daily, asking for ten minutes of your time."
Weiss plastered a big smile on her face, raising her chin and squaring her shoulders. Political training in action. Flawless, if not for the microscopic narrowing of the corners of her eyes. Doubtful anyone else but him knew her tells intimately enough to see it.
"Yes. He is." Weiss nodded. "But I don't appreciate your tone, Miss Lavender. Now, will that be all?"
The journalist coughed, jotting down something on her pad of yellow paper. "I understand your time is valuable, Miss Schnee. But." She shot him a pointed glance. "May I have his name and his affiliation at the very least? It's for the official and reputable papers in town, you see, and I'd hate to disappoint our readers."
The smirk playing on the edge of her lips betrayed exactly what she thought his affiliation was, in important people speak, as well as what the official and reputable papers really were.
Fuck.
If Caroline Lavender was a small sample of how Weiss' birthday party would turn out, and probably the rest of their life after, then it was going to be harder than he thought. Pointless politicking, hidden meanings, and veiled insinuations...
Toss Nexus Shade the Artificer into the Grimm, the criminal underworld, or the lawless frontier any day and it would be much, much better. But still, maybe he could do something about their current not-so-battle and turn the tables against their not-so-enemy. Just another little perk that came with his impromptu job.
Besides, if it came down to it, Weiss could probably handle it on her own.
Nex shrugged, managing a smile, even as his girlfriend nudged his forearm and shook her chin no. "Nexus Shade. Faunus. Huntsman-in-training from Beacon Academy." His smile turned into a smirk. "Technician-Developer of the ACD. Atlesian Military."
The reporter huffed and wrote something down on her pad. "Do you have proof that you are who you say you are, Developer Shade?"
Weiss scowled, the microscopic narrowing of her eyes growing macroscopic. "I find this uninvited line of questioning quite preposterous and frankly insulting, Miss Lavender. What my fian—" Her tongue twisted as she coughed into her fist. "Boyfriend says is nothing but the truth." She grabbed his hand, her nails digging into his skin even as his bracer-turned-ring brushed his palm. "While I'm sure it'd be a pleasure to spend a few more minutes entertaining your questions, we really must be going." She hmphed. "If you'll excuse us."
Weiss dragged him down the centre of the mall. He smiled and shrugged, quirking both eyebrows at their thin ring of spectators.
They looked away.
He was definitely doing something right then, even as they whispered something about the Schnee and her pet, cameras clicking and flashing. The reporter gasped, her notepad clacking over tiles. It was the last thing he heard as the chatter of the crowd and the shuffling of feet deafened his extra pair of ears.
"I can't believe this," Weiss muttered as they exited the mall.
She released his hand, rubbing her forehead. The busy streets had long since dispersed, giving way to the chilly Valean breeze and the stars twinkling through the grey clouds. They flitted across the skies, bitter smoke stinging his nose.
"Can people really be that close-minded?" Weiss asked.
Nex shrugged, smiling even as her mouth dipped into a little frown. "Does it bother you?"
"Yes. Yes, it does," Weiss said, shooting him a look as they strolled down the street, just a few blocks away from their hotel. "What I don't understand is how it doesn't bother you."
"Come on, Weiss. It's nothing new. We're from Atlas, remember?" Nex said, chuckling as he kicked a stray pebble. It crashed into a trash bin, the stone clanging off and bouncing a few feet. "A lot of stuff happens every day to faunus. Mostly by humans. Small and inconsequential things. But they add up over time."
"That's what's wrong with the world then," Weiss mumbled, her scalding hand slipping into his. "It shouldn't be nothing new."
Nex hummed, even as she turned away and stared at the cars zooming over the road, her lips taut into a fine line.
Weiss squirmed as she stepped on another puddle, the brown flaked with green sticking to her boots like the fingers of the rising dead. Her lips twisted, her eyes definitely crinkling behind her ceramic mask. A brand new purchase off a curiosity shop. She tugged on her cowl, her fake lupine ears, white like her hair, stiff against the soft cloth.
Nex nudged her hand, his fingers brushing her new ring. He managed a smile. "Relax. We can clean it off later."
"No, it's not that," Weiss whispered, scowling as she stared at the rundown tents and the make-shift shacks on what must have once been another sidewalk in the Valean slums. "It's just..."
Horned children giggled as they played tag, the edges of their tattered shirts dragging over mud. Brown muck splashed the walls of the tents with every step they took. Embers crackled. The rancid smoke of some age-old meat and sewage wafted through his nose. All the while, the symphony of moans and giggles rang out of the darkness.
Just like last night and every day before.
The campfires lit by faunus in the slums chased away the shadows. Orange-red silhouettes danced under tall, wilted trees and sometimes even inside the cover of the tents. Black smog wafted off their open tops, the walls drenched with tar. Improvised exhausts. Like what he and his mother used to have in their old shack in his hometown before they moved to Atlas.
"I never thought it'd be this..." Weiss said, her voice quivering. "Destitute."
"Yeah, welcome to the slums," Nex said. He licked his dry lips. "Pretty much how faunus live in the safety of the four kingdoms."
"So this is..." Weiss' mask turned towards him, her hair covering the slits on the left side.
"Yep. My childhood," Nex said, shrugging. "My mom left me a nice house in Atlas though, so I only had to go down Mantle to do odd jobs."
More like to find an easy mark ripe for low-profile theft. The kind Atlesian authorities overlooked by virtue of it being in Mantle. Food, spare change, and the like. But Weiss did not need to know that.
Not yet, at least.
In hindsight, if he never went down Mantle, then he, Roman, and Neo—the wicked trio in his fellow thief's words—would have probably never met. And then he could have never earned enough lien to pay for Atlas Primary. He would have never met Weiss.
Maybe something nice came out of their meeting, after all. As odd as it was.
"Are we to blame?" Weiss mumbled, her shoulders sagging. "My family, I mean."
Nex frowned, placing a hand on her shoulder. He rubbed the tense muscle. "Not really. A lot of factors played into this. Don't beat yourself up for the sins of your father and every other corrupt bureaucrat out there."
The problem with the big picture was that it was hard to see—and it overshadowed the people living their lives in the smaller picture.
"But part of it is still my family," Weiss said, her lips tightening. "I promise. I'll fix this someday."
Nex grinned, even if his brain spat out that what she wanted was impossible and too idealistic. "Like you've already said before. I'm sure you will."
"I think it's supposed to be we, Nyx," Weiss said, her lips lifting into a thin smile. "We're unofficially engaged, remember?"
Nex shrugged, guiding her left around a bend, straight to the old hovel last night. "Yep. How does Fione sound?"
"I think it's fine," Weiss said, covering a yawn. The golden wolf on her ring finger glinted under the moonlight. "For a girl's name, at least. For a boy, not so much."
"Good," Nex said, deepening and rasping his voice. Just like his father. "Because that's your code name."
"Oh," Weiss said, chuckling. Her eyes glowed red through the slits of her mask. "I thought you were referring to what we talked about on our last official date."
"Isn't that a little bit too soon, Fione?" Nex said, laughing as they stood just thirty feet from the hovel, the same dog-eared guy standing guard, his eyes glowing green in the distance. "We can't be thinking of our future daughter now. Not when we still have to liberate our brothers and sisters."
He leaned in, whispering to her ear. His lips touched her earlobe.
"Just roll with it," Nex said.
Weiss nodded, her lips twitching.
"You're back, Nyx," the watchman drawled as they arrived, the door still creaking on its hinges, just one breeze away from falling off. Did it seriously cost that much to repair?
"And with a wolf instead of a cat this time." He sniffed the air, clicking his tongue three times. "Well, what do you know. Lucky bastard. What is it about you wolves and being aphrodisiac to women?"
Nex shrugged, even as Weiss inched a little closer, her sleeved arm brushing his. His perfume worked then. "Maybe it helps she's also a wolf? Look, I dunno, man. She just wants in 'cause she's worried about me joining the White Fang."
The watchman nodded. "I get you. The ol' missus, the one with the dog ears, she's pretty much the reason why I'm here. Moved out of Mistral when it got too hot."
"We stick together," Nex said, grinning. "Love conquers all, huh?"
It was a nice thought, at least.
"You got that right," the watchman said, his chest jutting out. "Anyway, here."
He reached into the dumpster by the door—doubtful it was a dumpster at all—and pulled out another set of bags.
"The commander's not recruiting tonight. So you pass these out to our small quarters, then you and your gal can go home."
Nex took the bags, the weight tugging on his palm. They left the watchman behind and crossed the street. A certain, purple-hooded ghost-ninja stood by the corner, her amber eyes glowing in the darkness. Exactly like a cat. She crossed her arms, her heeled boots tapping the pavement.
"Nyx," Blake said, glancing at his partner. "We've got a problem."
"What is it?" Nex said. He raised the bags, waving them in the air. "We've got some stuff to hand out first."
"It's important," Blake said. She turned to his partner, frowning. "Something I've gotta show you. Can you..."
Weiss huffed, snatching the bags from his grip. "I expect you to be back in exactly fifteen minutes. Here. Preferably before I finish giving out charity." She coughed, her voice shrinking into a whisper. "And it's Fione, B."
They left Weiss behind as she knocked on the nearest shack, the wood thudding and shrieking as it hinged open.
Blake led him to the alley the night before, dried blood marking the way. The wall where the fox-eared girl once hung was barren save for graffiti. Exactly what the ghost-ninja wanted to show him was nowhere to be found.
Nex shrugged, cracking his neck. "So... What did you want to show me?"
The ghost-ninja crouched on the alley floor, running her fingers over something. A tiny patch of purple stained the pavement. Like someone tattooed a bottle of Mistralian Nightshade into it. Or maybe even spilt a glass of the stuff. They must have missed it because of all the excitement last night.
"Smell that?" Blake said, taking a cursory sniff.
Nex hummed, Pareidolia turning its lens on the tiny patch. "Half-faunus. Can't do it, B. But my semblance identifies it as animal—"
"It's poison," Blake muttered, hissing as she wiped her finger on her pants. "One of the few dozens used by White Fang operatives."
"I take it the White Fang likes going native?" Nex said, yawning. "You know, I could whip up something that could trace this. Find out exactly what species—"
Blake chuckled, springing to her feet. "I bet you could. There's nothing that the Artificer couldn't find out, huh?"
His legs stiffened, even as the ghost-ninja's glowing eyes darted towards him.
"I did some research last night. Something about you just didn't line up," Blake whispered, placing a hand on the alley's wall. "They say the Artificer's the ghost of the underworld. A legend. A myth. A fairy tale. Someone who knows things with no real way to know them. An informant who turns old newspapers into top-secret lucrative marks. Sought after by hardened criminals everywhere. But no one really finds him, right?" She pushed herself off the wall, prowling closer. Like a cat. "Because surprise, surprise. He's not a stereotypical, grey-haired criminal informant hanging somewhere in a bar in Vacuo." Blake chuckled. "He's a Beacon student who isn't even old enough to drink yet. An undercover Atlesian nark."
Nex licked his lips, his throat bobbing. "Sounds like a swell guy. Must be nice being so famous—"
"Cut the crap, Artificer," Blake said, her eyes boring into his. Even through the thin slits of their masks. "Your semblance. The way you move. The way you think. Your backstory, if any of it is even real. What you called yourself the night I left. It all points to one thing."
Shit. Why the hell did Weiss have to blab about his semblance?
His jaw tightened, his left hand clenching into a fist. Pareidolia shrunk back into its cave and screamed for him to draw his mother's fancy sword.
"Is this supposed to be the part where you blackmail me?" Nex said, his muscles loosening. "Maybe call the cops?"
"What?" Blake said. Like she just heard something incredulous. "No! Of course not. You gave me another chance when you didn't have to." She shook her head. "I just want the Artificer's services. For free. I don't have the lien to afford your usual price." She coughed, lowering her voice. "I promise to keep the Artificer's real identity a secret. Especially from a certain heiress."
"Right. Good to know," Nex said, his heart pounding up his temples. Cloying sweat stuck to the back of his neck. Dub dub dub. No choice then. "What's it going to be?"
"The White Fang," Blake said. "If I give you every bit of info I can gather, will you find out where the dust is really going? What Taurus is really involved with?"
Nex smirked. Maybe—just maybe—the ghost-ninja knowing about his dirty little secret had its uses after all. "It's funny you should say that. Ironwood expects me to do the same thing."
Blake nodded. "Then it's settled. The only thing I can't wrap my mind around is this stain and how the Resolutionists are connected to all this—"
A scream tore through the night, stabbing his extra pair of ears.
Blake jumped, just seconds behind him as he burst out of the alley.
The horned boy crashed into the mud, just as the shadow leapt over a shack, ghosting across the rooftops.
A phantom.
Golden eyes burned, the murderer cackling as he—or was it she—flew past the broken moon.
"Damn it," Blake said, kneeling over the boy, his tanned skin abnormally pale. Blood spilled out of the gash on his stomach. Bits of what must have been intestines flopped over the pavement. "He's dead."
No shit. Nex stifled the urge to roll his eyes.
A bloody, golden sword poked out of the boy's pocket.
Fuck.
The Resolutionists were supposed to be a human cult.
"We got something out of that at least," Nex said, glaring at the ashen skies. "The murderer's a faunus. Unless they're using night-vision lenses."
"What happened?!" Weiss skidded over cement, a silvery rapier already in hand. She froze as her feet stumbled over the corpse.
"What is—"
She heaved and covered her mouth, glaring at anything else but the blood-splashed pavement.
"Yep," Nex said, shrugging. "Pretty much a first-timer's reaction." He managed a smile. "Now, who wants to tell the watchman another one died on their turf?"
Blake and Weiss exchanged masked looks, their eyes glowing amber and red.
Nex sighed. Troublesome. Especially since it looked like the murders were going to happen pretty much every night.
Well, not unless Taurus got off his ass and actually did something to catch the killer.