Prelude

The breach was sealed. The hasty execution of the White Fang's plan had been foiled by the Atlesian might in the skies above and the forces of Beacon below. Months of planning, thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands of Lien worth of dust and manpower, wasted. Had the attack happened just a few days later, the death toll would have been many times higher than it was today. Countless innocent lives had been spared, but the few lives that were lost weighed down on the shoulders of those that survived.

The attack having been repelled, the teams of hunters- and huntresses-in-training swiftly moved through the streets and alleys, eliminating any opposition they came across and helping the citizens get back up to face another day. Human, faunus, grimm, it didn't matter. Their orders clear, each four person squad carried out their duties with efficiency. Except for one.

"JAUNE! WHERE ARE YOU?" Pyrrha yelled, dashing through the rubble ahead of her teammates.

The blond leader was missing. Team JNPR had changed their mission upon hearing the alarm, moving to assist the citizens of Vale instead of pursuing the original mission to scout the area around a village near the border. Crashing down into the middle of a hot landing zone, the four of them had quickly neutralized the Grimm threat in the plaza. They had held the area long enough for reinforcements to arrive from the battleships above, as well as Beacon's own hunters and huntresses. A truly magnificent display for First Year students, but it had come with a price. The leader of team JNPR, Jaune Arc, was missing. The order had gone out for all squads; defeat the Grimm in their immediate vicinity, help the civilians as best they could, then regroup near Central Square. Despite these instructions, Pyrrha, second-in-command of JNPR, had told her team to find Jaune, military or Beacon orders be damned. They searched the city for their team leader, the scraggly blond that had just recently learned how to handle himself in combat, how to lead a group, how to inspire three teenagers to ignore orders from two of the most powerful groups in the realm. Somebody worth following.

The Spartan paused, checking her scroll while allowing Ren and Nora to catch up to her. The screen lit up, showing herself at about 40% aura, her team around the same level. However, what worried her more than that was the complete lack of aura shown under the picture of their leader. With the destruction all around her, she couldn't tell if it was due to interference on his scroll or if his aura was so depleted that the technology couldn't pick it up. Activating the area-wide broadcast, she spoke in an even tone. "This is Pyrrha Nikos of team JNPR, has anyone in this area seen a blond male, 17 years old, wielding a sword and shield, helping others to safety?"

The silence over the next few seconds told her more than she needed to know. She was moving forward before the voices on the other end began speaking, all saying the same thing.

No sign of the person she had described. No information regarding the location of a blond swordsman, acting as the hero of justice. Nothing in the way of locating the boy ("Man," she had corrected in her head) in question. Jaune Arc was nowhere to found above ground. Which left only one option.

"We're going down to the tracks," she stated.

Not surprised by the decision, Ren and Nora began looking for the nearest manhole. Their initial thought had been to make an entrance of their own, but the city had suffered enough damage that day. Upon finding the sewer cap, Ren pried it open, allowing Nora to jump down first, followed by Pyrrha, before climbing down himself.

The trio stuck close together, noting that the signal provided to their scrolls was weak at best, unable to relay accurate aura or GPS information to them. If their leader was trapped down here, there wouldn't be any good way to find him aside from blind luck and a knowledge of the labyrinth that unfolded around them. Tunnels split off in every direction, the scent of Grimm and destruction hanging in the air.

"There's too many tunnels, no way will we be able to check them all out. If I remember correctly, the initial entry was over that way," Pyrrha said, pointing, "So we need to head in that direction. Satellite communication is down for us, so any messages sent out will only reach us three."

"Nora, stick with Ren. Maghnild poses problems to everyone's survival should a grenade go off while we're in the substructure of the city. I'll check this path, you two take that one," Pyrrha said, gesturing to the tunnels in front of the group, "If you find anything let me know."

With a few muttered assurances (we'll find him Pyrrha, stop worrying), the trio split up, Pyrrha descending into the darkness of her chosen path. The illumination coming from her scroll and the evenly spaced lights in the tunnel made it just visible enough for her to see, but left enough shadows to hide anything that didn't want to be seen. It was in this semi-darkness that she found her way to the tracks used for the breach, as evidenced by the pieces of the stolen Paladins littering the ground.

This area was better lit than the previous tunnels, allowing Pyrrha to put her scroll away and draw her weapons. This precaution had proven to be unnecessary, for the Grimm and White Fang had both returned the tunnel to its original state of abandonment. The lights flickered off and on as she followed the tracks toward the wreckage of the train, passing by the bits of machines and bodies that littered the ground. Whatever Grimm hadn't made it through into the city had already scavenged what they could from the bodies, leaving only the odd body part here and there. Had Pyrrha stopped to consider the scene around her, she might have been sick; however, she had a goal. A hope to find someone still alive among the carnage and rubble. A dunce, yet one of the most adaptable people she had ever met. Slow to improve, but never stopped trying. Somehow oblivious to every signal given to him, but still perceptive enough to help those around him. A literal embodiment of fake it until you make it. Someone that had seen her for who she was instead of what she was. Somewhere in these tunnels, was the man she had dared allow herself to fall in love with. And she was going to find him. Come Grimm or high water, she was not leaving until Jaune was among them once again.

Upon finding the wreckage of the now exploded train, Pyrrha paused to send a message to Ren and Nora, letting them know that she had found the train used to deliver the Grimm to the city. Looking up, she briefly allowed herself to admire Professor Goodwitch's handiwork in fixing the city above. As she stepped into the train and began searching car by car, she noted the struggle put up by those that had been inside. It looked like the White Fang members left alive by the explosion had slowly banded back together, putting up more and more of a fight against the creatures that hadn't made it to the surface. While the initial cars had few body pieces left to match the shades of red on the walls, later cars had shown less wild struggles and more defensive approaches. A barricade here (torn mostly to shreds), Grimm masks there (mostly Beowolves), discarded weapons and supplies as the survivors were pushed closer and closer to the engine compartment. As she reached their last stand, she noticed blood stains had lessened, internally realizing the stalwartness possessed by the criminal organization. If nothing else, the White Fang was strong, even if misguided in their intentions.

Upon reaching the door to the engine room, she couldn't help but notice how it looked. A steel door, scratches and tears marring its surface, still closed. A beacon of hope for any survivors still inside. Pyrrha checked her surroundings one last time before approaching it, wary of any creatures or traps around her. Finding none, she knocked on the door twice.

"This is Pyrrha Nikos of Beacon Academy, are there any survivors in here? I'm here to recover a missing person, not to fight," she called out, unsure of what she hoped to hear from the other side.

Silence was all that responded. Slowly, she turned the handle to the car, using her semblance as needed to convince the metal locking mechanism to comply with her demands as quietly as possible. Once the latch had been coaxed from its resting place, she pushed the door open, steeling herself for what was on the other side.

And this is how Ren and Nora found her. On her knees, in the engine compartment of the White Fang's biggest operation. Surrounded by blood, gun shots and tears in the metal, Milo and Akouo on the ground at her side.

Cradling a broken Crocea Mors in her arms.

So I haven't been on in a while, figured I'd come back with this. I always looking for feedback, public or private, because nothing gets better without having its flaws pointed out.