Author's note: this story is a part of the RWBY Superhero Universe, and a direct sequel to Blake Belladonna: White Fang and The Hunt. Things will make a lot more sense if you've read those before delving in here. Happy reading, and thank you!

"-impossible to describe what we're seeing. There seems to be no end to these – these creatures – the streets below are in chaos, the response from the local police force-"

Sienna could remember feeling such horror only once before in her life – the numbness that it brought, and the underlying guilt beneath it. With time, she had come to terms with it all. She had realized the blame had never been on her, though her parents' killers would have had her believe otherwise.

Today was different. Her mind tried to find ways around the truth, but her conscience spoke louder. The guilt was real, and there was no escaping it this time.

"Adam… What have you done?"

She fell back in her chair, fists clenched. She should have killed that lunatic when he came crawling back to her doorstep. He was already a bloody mess – it would have been a mercy, if anything. If she had done that, maybe today wouldn't be such a tragedy.

But there were a lot of things she could have done differently. If she started to wonder… That way rested only hopelessness.

"We are now receiving reports of the creatures rampaging all over the world – the Atlesian army has been deployed in the capital – numerous sightings throughout Mistral – the Suntide capital of Vacuo-"

Sienna looked up at the TV, fully alert again. She felt a lump in her throat as she imagined her nation's capital in the same state as Vale. If she changed to a local channel, what would she see on the screen? The remote lay ominously at the corner of her desk, while her hand remained locked to her chair in a vice-grip.

"Sienna!" Her door burst open, and her advisor, Fennec Albain, came stumbling in, quickly followed by his brother, Corsac. "Have you seen the news?"

Sienna remained silent, letting the twins reach their own conclusion once they looked at the live broadcast.

"What a terrible sight…" Fennec muttered.

"The monsters aren't just in Vale, my leader," Corsac said urgently. "We have received word from our brothers and sisters all over the country. They're everywhere, it seems."

"The big cities seem to be suffering the most," Fennec added.

Sitting straighter in her chair, Sienna put on her serious face. "What's the situation in Suntide like?"

"Chaos. Not as bad as Vale, but…" Fennec paled. "The Council has called in the National Forces to protect the city, or so we've heard."

"And Shade?" Sienna questioned.

"Even worse, and the Council hasn't done a thing about it,"" Corsac said.

Sienna breathed in sharply. "Of course. Those bastards only care about their fat backsides. Everything's fine as long as their mansions aren't burning to the ground…"

She rubbed her eyes for a moment before realizing the twins were staring at her, as if expecting orders. She opened her mouth to bark at them to leave her alone, but the words died in her throat. As easy as it would have been to simply sit in anger and sorrow, her people demanded more of her now. Her country demanded more of her.

"Gather everyone we have here. See if we can't find more people in the vicinity, and call the other bases We need as many hands as we can get," she said, standing up and putting her hands on her desk. "Ready every vehicle we have. Empty our weapon stocks. We're going to Shade."

Fennec jumped. "Surely you don't mean for us to-"

"Yes, I mean exactly that," Sienna said. "If the Council won't move their asses to save their own kin, then we will. Now go!"

The twins scurried out of the room, speaking to each other in hushed tones. Anger boiling in her veins, Sienna turned to look at the TV and scowled at the black masses tearing through Vale. She opened and closed her fingers around an imaginary weapon, numbness gone, guilt forgotten.

Today, she wouldn't be just a helpless witness.

BLAKE BELLADONNA

THE FACE OF VACUO

The night was quiet. In a city as big as Suntide, that could only be something very good, or very bad – it depended on who you were… or who you stood with.

For now, Trifa liked the silence. It was the kind that kept the nerves on high alert; that made of every footstep a ringing bell, and every shadowy corner a hint of uninvited eyes. It was the ever-present fear in the back of the head, and the promise of safety.

This silence was a battlefield. Her battlefield. Conquer it, and it would forever be her fortress.

"Just one crate left, boss."

"Go get it, then." Trifa took her cigarette from her lips and blew out the smoke, letting herself relax somewhat. "Be fast about it. We're not out of the woods yet."

The retrieval pair left their last crate on the sidewalk and, accompanied by an armed escort, went back inside the warehouse. After a nod from Trifa, her remaining companion in the street took the crate and loaded it on the back of their truck, causing it to rock with the added weight.

"Boss, I need to – err - can I be excused for a moment?"

Lowering her cigarette again, Trifa held back a groan. "Can't it wait?"

He looked at her blankly, and the answer couldn't be clearer. Trifa exhaled sharply. It would be a two-hour ride back to the base, at minimum, and she wasn't planning on stopping anywhere in-between.

"Go, Barry." She swiped the air with her hand, showing just how exasperated she was. "Please try to be quiet."

He mumbled something unintelligible and walked away, his steps echoing gratingly along the length of the street. Trifa almost crushed her cigarette between her fingers. She had half the mind to chase after that idiot and drag him back to the truck, his discomfort be damned.

"I'm surrounded by idiots…"

Speaking of… The guy she'd sent to scan the perimeter had yet to return. She'd like to believe that was due to his diligence, but that was wishful thinking. The silence wasn't feeling like much a boon anymore.

Trifa tossed her cigarette on the floor and put it out with her boot, then walked away from the truck and looked around. Had someone followed them? There was always a chance they had been sighted by the police on the way to the warehouse, but that would have been a hell of a coincidence. They had waited a month between hiding the weapons and coming to retrieve them. They couldn't have been more careful.

The only other option was that someone had ratted them out. But who? Even the imbeciles accompanying her knew better than to trust the cops.

Or… she was being paranoid. That was probably it. The situation was stressful, even more so because barely anyone would appreciate her doing her job. Why would they? It wasn't as if she was the backbone of the White Fang. No, no, everyone else's jobs were way more important!

Now she remembered why she had taken up smoking in the first place. Groaning, Trifa turned around and started walking back to the truck to retrieve her pack.

Just as she laid a hand on the door handle, a muffled noise occurred behind her. Trifa spun around, reaching for the gun on her waist, but the street was still empty. She opened her mouth to call Barry – and a surprised yell came from inside the warehouse, followed by three gunshots, and finally an explosive sound of something heavy falling on the floor.

"Shit!" Trifa ran inside the warehouse, shoving the door open with a shoulder, and raised her gun in front of her. The place was dark – why the hell were the lights turned off? – but she could still see, even if a little blurry.

She found the others out cold on the floor next to the weapons crate they had been carrying out. Their journey had been cut short halfway to the door. Trifa crouched next to one of them and felt for a pulse – still there, alive and strong. No blood, at least none she could find.

Walking a little deeper into the warehouse, she found the source of the ruckus. A metal shelf had been knocked over, and all its contents had come down with it and were now scattered on the floor. Under the shelf was the escort, unconscious. His pistol was on the floor next to him, still hot to the touch.

"Boss! What the hell happened?"

Trifa looked back at the door and gestured furiously at Barry. "We've been made! Get the truck started, now!"

"What about the-" Before he could finish his sentence, an arm closed around Barry's neck from behind and dragged him away from the doorway. Trifa ran to the entrance, jumping over the others on the floor, but by the time she got out, Barry was already out cold on the sidewalk.

Trifa stood paralyzed for a moment, looking in every direction for a sign of the attacker, but the street was empty. She looked at Barry, then abandoned all hesitation and made for the truck.

"Leaving your friends behind?"

Blood running cold, Trifa turned around and pointed her pistol at the stranger that came out of the shadows. She recognized her in an instant, and her fear turned to anger. "You."

Blake stopped, amber eyes taking in Trifa from head to toe before settling on the gun. "Put that down." She shifted her weight onto her left foot, taking a sharp stance. "You know who I am. You know how this goes."

"Do I?" Trifa's pressed softly on the trigger. "You should have taken me down when you had the chance, pet. Fighting me face-to-face, I don't like your chances."
"This isn't personal. I just need you talking," Blake said. "Put the gun down. Make this easy for you and your friends."

"How about you make this easy and stand still!"

Trifa pulled the trigger, and the bullet hit Blake right in the forehead. She stumbled back, hands searching for something to hold on to behind her – only for her body to turn into a shadowy substance and dissipate before Trifa's eyes.

Freaking out, Trifa stepped back until her back hit the truck. Her pistol nearly escaped her grasp as she aimed it haphazardly, trying to catch sight of Blake again - and wondering if she was losing her mind - until a solid fabric wrapped around her wrist and yanked her forward.

A fist met her nose, and Trifa went stumbling on the sidewalk and onto the road, losing her gun somewhere along the way. Blake appeared behind her and kicked the gun away.

"Neither of us are getting anything out of this," Blake said, rewrapping her ribbon around her own arm. "Are you done?"

"I'll be done when you're bleeding on the pavement!" Trifa yelled, charging in with a punch. Blake caught her fist, but wasn't fast enough to stop the second, the blow landing cleanly on her chin.

Giving no room for recovery, Trifa closed in again, aiming a knee at Blake's stomach. The attack connected, and she kept driving her knee deeper, watching Blake gasping for air – before she vanished completely and Trifa fell through the sudden emptiness.

She nearly hit the ground before Blake caught her from behind, one hand on her right shoulder and the other on the opposite elbow. "Enough?"

Trifa lunged forward, but that earned her nothing but an explosion of pain on her shoulder. Blake outmatched her both in size and strength, and even if Trifa somehow broke free, she was sure Blake would do… whatever it was that she did before, and catch her again immediately.

"Okay! Fine!" Trifa shouted, ceasing her struggling at once. "I'll talk. Just let me go."

Blake was silent. Trifa could practically fell the heat of her gaze on the back of her neck. A whole minute passed before Blake started to relax her grip, bit by bit, giving Trifa room to move again. The hand on Trifa's shoulder softened – and as soon as it did, Trifa twisted her arm backwards until she had her palm facing Blake's face from below.

Trifa released a string of web from her wrist, and the substance hit Blake in the chin and spread upward to cover the rest of her face. Her first instinct was to let go of Trifa and tear the web from her eyes, but she realized her mistake fast – and still it was too late. Trifa lashed out with three blows, the first driving the air out of Blake's lungs, the second bending her knee sideways and causing her legs to give out, and the last one connecting with her head and finally bringing her down.

"I warned you," Trifa said. "I can fight dirty too."

She watched Blake for movement for a moment before going to retrieve her gun. When she returned, Blake had turned over onto her back and was reaching for her face again, but Trifa stomped on her wrist, pressing it against the rough road. Blake's cry of pain was muffled by the web.

"Well, then. Turns out you aren't such hot shit after all," Trifa said, grinning. "This… is the last time you screw with my people."

She lifted her foot from Blake's wrist and brought it down on her head.

"It's over for you, pet."

Blake woke up with a mind-shattering headache. That much was expected, and not too out of the ordinary for her as of late. The last time she had come out of a fight with a clear head had been… It was hard to remember. Maybe there wasn't an occasion to remember.

The good side of being desensitized was that, upon opening her eyes, she wasn't nearly as alarmed as she should have been. Waking up in a dimly-lighted, decrepit old room, tied to a chair by numerous layers of spider web, with Trifa glaring at her while leaning against the door, the only exit – Blake had every reason to panic. But she didn't… which was worrying in and of itself, but now was hardly the time to confront that uncomfortable reality.

Though Trifa was trying to drill a hole into her skull with her eyes alone, she didn't seem to have noticed that Blake had woken up yet. Taking that bit of good fortune as far as she could, Blake closed her eyes again and tried to stretch her arms, but they were pressed so tightly to her sides by the web, she could move only her fingers, and nothing more than a couple inches at that.

She could feel the familiar shape of her blade pushing into the flesh of her left thigh. Maybe Trifa hadn't noticed it, or by the time she had, Blake had been far too tied for the weapon to be removed. Or – and Blake thought Trifa was just smug enough for this to be true – she simply believed there was nothing Blake could do with it.

That would be her way out. And once she was free, Blake had plenty Aura left to put up a good fight, even in such close quarters. If she had been prepared for Trifa's trickery before, she never would have been knocked out. The upper hand was undoubtedly hers now that she knew about Trifa's web.

Her plan formulated, Blake opened her eyes again and made a show of struggling against her constraints, then glowering when Trifa left the door to walk closer to her, her lips parting in a grin.

"Look who's awake finally," Trifa said. "I was beginning to think I had miscalculated my strength when I knocked you out." She looked down at Blake and scoffed. "A girl can dream."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," Blake said. "Didn't you say things were over for me? Yet I'm still in one piece. What gives?"

"Believe me, I would have loved to put you in the ground for everything you've done, but I figured that wasn't my decision to make." Trifa's grin widened. "Not that I'm worried. Your punishment now isn't gonna be any better than what I would have done to you, pet."

Blake scowled. Even understanding the meaning behind the insult, Blake hadn't minded Trifa calling her pet before, but with her brain on fire and her pride wounded, she was quickly running out of patience. But she managed to push down her anger and kept focused on more pressing matters.

"So you brought me… here," Blake said, looking around. "A White Fang hideout, I'm assuming. But what's this? A broom closet? I know you people aren't exactly well-off, but…"

"I'm sorry, we're not in the business of keeping prisoners," Trifa said bitingly. "You should know that already, seeing as you've made your life mission to make our job a living hell."

"The White Fang's a job now?" Blake raised her eyebrows. "Maybe I got out too soon…"

Trifa's hand rose like a blur, knuckles clashing against the side of Blake's mouth. The blow would have knocked Blake off the chair if it weren't for the bindings. As it was, her head absorbed most of the impact, and it hung to the side for a long while as she recovered. It was during that time that Blake noticed a strange coldness on top of her head.

"Did you…" Blake looked up at Trifa, a quiet rage bubbling in the back of her throat. "Did you take off my bow?"

"I did. Why?" Trifa lowered into a crouch and pouted. "Are you embarrassed? Are you gonna cry? I can get you a hat if you wanna play pretend…"

Blake breathed in sharply. "You shouldn't have done that."

"Oh, come on! How pathetic can you be?" Trifa said. "You really are going to cry, aren't you, pet? If I knew the terror of the White Fang was a sniveling little-"

"Call me that again."

Trifa's expression went from annoyance to disbelief to outright rage in the span of a second. She stood up and took a step back, fists clenched, and finally her face displayed only disgust.

"You think you're better than us," Trifa said. "You go out every night and beat the shit out of your own people, and you still think you're some kind of hero. You were sent down by the heavens to save us all, to make the world right! Well, I see through you…" Her lips curved in a scornful smile. "You've been tamed so hard, you actually think you're one of them."

Trifa's laughter filled the miniscule room, and Blake's headache exploded onto new heights. She bowed her head in reflex and closed her eyes, a furious growl rising within her…

She shut it all out and focused on the feeling of the webs covering her, then shut that out too. A tingling sensation caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up, and she threw all her weight back as best she could. The tingling sensation left her body, and behind her chair a shadow clone appeared, standing free.

Trifa jumped back, cursing, as the clone took out its concealed blade. The two of them stared at each other, while Blake sat trapped in between, breathing laboriously. She had learned the intricacies of her Semblance well over the years, but she had never tried controlling a clone while her real body was immobilized, and the strain it put on her was beyond what she had expected.

"K-keep talking," Blake panted. "What, scared all of a sudden? But I'm so p-pathetic…!"

"You're not gonna do anything to me." Trifa's eyes raced from her to the clone. "You can't."

"Yeah?" Blake thrust her head to the side, getting her hair out of her eyes. "Come take a piece of me if you're so sure."

Trifa's expression hardened. She took a step forward – and the clone swung its blade, cutting through the strands of web on the back of the chair. The pressure on Blake lightened immediately, and with a thrust of her arms, she freed herself of most of the web around her upper body.

The clone bent low and cut through the strands trapping her legs, just in time for Blake to kick at the approaching Trifa. Caught by surprise, the spider faunus was sent reeling backwards until she hit the door, while the kickback toppled over the chair with Blake still on it.

Blake rushed to her feet and commanded her clone forward, sending it to collide against Trifa. There was little weight to the action, but it was just enough to keep Trifa in check until Blake got rid of the last webbings on her.

Trifa shoved the clone off her, and it dissolved as it hit a wall. She started towards Blake, only to come to a sharp halt when she saw her standing with her blade out.

"I've run out of patience for you," Blake said, pointing her weapon at Trifa. "You're going to step aside now, or I'll have to demonstrate to you the real definition of tamed."

Trifa glared at her with scathing eyes, swaying back and forth on the balls of her feet, and Blake prayed that she folded to her threat. Blake knew many ways of subduing someone with a blade without hurting or maiming, but those required a dexterity and presence of mind which she lacked at the moment.

The tension was cut by the sound of a key turning a lock, before the door behind Trifa was opened from the other side. A small part of Blake was disappointed that the situation wouldn't escalate further. Disturbed, she shushed that voice and took a step backwards, whilst keeping her blade raised and her expression fierce.

A man stood in the doorway, dressed in a pale-red robe-like attire. His head was covered by a hood with holes at the top that permitted two fox ears to breathe free. Hands joined behind his back, he stared intensely at Blake and her weapon, and she couldn't tell whether he was alarmed, or simply curious.

"High Leader Corsac! Finally, you're here!" Trifa exclaimed, turning towards him. "Can we get to offing this bitch now? Look at her! It's bad enough she's a psycho, she's also-"

"Sister Trifa, please. This behavior is unbecoming of a faunus of the White Fang." Corsac raised a hand. "Calm yourself. I assure you, this unfortunate situation will be handled with the utmost care."

"Oh, yes. I'll help you handle it, too." Trifa smirked. "Just give the word, High Leader."

"Sister Trifa!" Corsac chided. "You may leave now."

Trifa curled her fists and scowled at Blake, then stormed out of the room. Corsac waited until her stomping faded in the distance before turning to Blake and nodding apologetically.

"My sincere apologies, Miss Belladonna. If I had known she wouldn't have been able to keep her temper in check, I would have ordered someone other than Trifa to watch over you," he said. "Regardless. I don't believe we have met. I am Corsac Albain, High Leader of the White Fang." He extended a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last."

Blake looked at his hand warily. A pleasure, he said. That couldn't be farther from the truth. She lowered her blade, but did not put it away entirely, and still refused to shake his hand.

"Corsac Albain. I've heard a lot about you," she said. "Though I'd imagined that the High Leader bit was nothing but nonsense. Never thought anyone would actually call themselves that."

"Please, think nothing of it. The title is, well, just a title," Corsac said, smiling cordially. "It was only supposed to set me apart from previous leadership. Unfortunately, things ran a little out of my control…"

"Right. Unfortunate," Blake said. "So I take it you're here to judge me on behalf of the White Fang?"

"Nothing like that. There will be no judgement, nor any punishment," Corsac said. "But I'd like you to come with me. There is… someone… who would very much like to talk with you."

Blake felt herself run short of breath. Could this be it, the moment she'd been chasing since Vale? It was hard to believe that her efforts were finally paying off. If she had known all it would take to find Adam was to let herself be beaten up and kidnapped, she would have done so months ago.

A more sensible part of her knew it really was too good to be true. Everything she'd found, every White Fang goon she'd interrogated, every hideout invaded and scoured for clues – nothing pointed to Adam, and that could only mean he truly had left Vacuo forever, or so she'd thought. What were the chances he would be here now?

And if Adam was here… Between the splitting headache and being in a completely unknown environment, Blake was in no condition to confront him. The smart thing to do was to run. Why did she need to confront him anyway? Maybe she never should have gone searching in the first place.

Blake breathed in deeply. "Take me to him."

Corsac looked her up and down curiously for a moment, then gestured towards her blade, and she put it away, though she made sure to leave it close to the touch. He nodded in appreciation and turned, hands still joined behind his back. Clearly, he didn't consider her a threat, and if Blake didn't know better, she would have thought him foolish for that. But they both understood the delicate position she was in, lost in unfamiliar territory and surrounded by enemies with no shortage of spite for her.

She followed Corsac out of the room, and her fears were shortly confirmed as they passed by numerous faunus, some wearing the traditional White Fang masks, while others showed their faces without fear or reservation. Shivers ran down her spine as every one of them stopped to glare at her. She was an intruder, a devil walking in plain sight among them. The only thing protecting her from a vicious attack was Corsac.

On edge as she was, Blake didn't miss the opportunity to get familiarized with her surroundings. She kept her head low and didn't say a word, but her eyes were in constant movement, taking in every corner of the building as they navigated long hallways and descended decrepit sets of stairs. The place seemed to have been abandoned long before the White Fang occupied it, but what purpose it had once served, Blake could only speculate.

As they went down a hallway, Blake and Corsac passed by a door left wide open, and she got an unobstructed view of a large storage room. Inside were a dozen or so faunus opening crates and depositing their contents in carts, which were then rolled away elsewhere.

Blake cringed as she recognized a Schnee-brand energy rifle being dropped into an already sprawling pile of similar firearms. In the most capable hands, that weapon was a conduit of unparalleled devastation. In the hands of any ordinary White Fang goon… Blake shuddered at the thought.

She didn't have long to observe, having to catch up to Corsac before he realized what she was doing, but Blake made a mental note about the room. It was unlikely she would be able to do anything about the weapons today, but that was invaluable information for the future.

Minutes later, Blake and Corsac descended one last set of stairs and arrived at a hall much smaller than the rest of the building. It was completely deserted, leaving their steps to ring out in the eerie silence. Before Blake could question her surroundings, Corsac opened a door and ushered her into an even smaller room, this one also empty save for two chairs and a table at the center. There was another door at the other side, with open windows on either side that allowed in a cold desert breeze.

"Please," Corsac said, remaining at the door. "Take a seat."

Blake stopped in her tracks, fingers twitching nervously near her blade's handle. She looked at the other door, wondering if it was locked, and how quickly she could get to it. Judging from the breeze, it likely led to the outside.

"My apologies. I realize this must be very confusing to you," Corsac said. "This matter requires some amount of discretion. It would have been imprudent to have carried this on where everyone could see."

"Is that so?" Blake's eyes narrowed in on the doorknob. With a well-placed swing of her ribbon and blade, she could probably pull the door open forcibly. "I think your friends would have liked to me getting shot in the back of the head, actually."

"Ah. I'm terribly sorry you feel that way, Miss Belladonna, but I assured you, there is no trickery about to take place here," Corsac said. "This will be but a conversation. You are free to go anytime."

The door opened, and in came Sienna Khan. Wearing casual clothes, she stood at the doorway for a moment, unruly hair blowing with the chilly air. She looked imperiously at Blake, rooting her to the spot… And then her expression softened, and she moved away from the door, gesturing at it with an open palm.

"I'll leave the door open for you," Sienna said. "But it's cold tonight. With your permission…"

Robbed of speech, Blake could only stare at her. Sienna waited a moment, then nodded subtly and walked over to one of the chairs.

"Thank you for your help, Corsac," Sienna said. "If you could give us some privacy, that would be greatly appreciated."

Corsac bowed briefly and left the room, closing the door and leaving Blake alone with Sienna.

"Well, then." Sienna looked around, putting her hands in the pockets of her coat. "It's been a long time, Blake. Shall we sit?"

Not waiting for an answer, she took her seat. Her eyes darted to the open door, then back to Blake, as if she were afraid she would leave.

"…What?"

Sienna flinched at the outburst. "I'm sorry?"

"You want me to sit down and have a talk with you?" Blake said, backing away. "After everything you've done, you expect me to do that?"

"Yes… That is why I came here," Sienna said. "I don't mean to…" She stopped to rethink her words, then started again. "I realize there's bad blood between us. But I hope we can reach a-"

"Bad blood? Are you out of your mind?" Blake exclaimed. "You tried to kill me!"

Suddenly, Blake's head exploded with a sharp pain on the side of her skull. She closed her eyes and rubbed at the spot, and in an instant the pain was gone – aside from the persistent headache she'd had since waking up.

She opened her eyes and found Sienna staring away from her, almost as if she were ashamed of looking her way. At that exact moment, it became painfully obvious to Blake how tired Sienna looked. Blake knew Sienna couldn't have hit thirty yet, but she looked twice as old, easily. The way she sat, the look in her eyes…

Blake remembered seeing a look like that only once before. Her uncle.

"I'm sorry," Sienna said. "The door is open."

Not quite believing what she was about to do, Blake walked to the door – and closed it. She returned to Sienna and, after casting a long look to make sure she was being genuine, took her own seat.

"Why?"

Sienna looked at Blake, some spirit returning to her expression. "You're going to have to elaborate."

"After all this time," Blake said. "I tried to get to you for years. I followed every lead, I went from one corner of Vacuo to the other, just for a chance to…" She shook her head. "And now you're here, just like that, and I wasn't even looking for you."

"Yes, well. I was the leader of the White Fang, and you, Blake, didn't leave much doubt about what you thought of us. Personal issues aside, that was reason alone for me never to be anywhere near you," Sienna said. "It was mostly personal, I will admit."

"Yes, I imagine it must be so painful for you to meet me face-to-face," Blake replied dryly.

Sienna sighed. "There is nothing I could ever say or do to rectify the mistakes I made. I don't expect forgiveness. But I'm tired of running," she said. "My past will haunt me to the end of my days. Best to come to terms with it now. With you too, hopefully."

Blake bristled, already regretting not having walked away when she had the chance. Sienna didn't expect forgiveness, of course, but she was so clearly remorseful, only a heartless monster would deny her that.

"That's very noble of you," Blake said. "But I think you're forgetting the reason I'm here."

"I regret that too. I've been trying to get a hold of you for months, but you're not an easy person to reach," Sienna said. "Besides, would you ever have accepted an invitation from me? I don't think so – and I don't begrudge you for it."

"That's beside the point! Your thug knocked me out and brought me here against my will, and I should count myself lucky – she wanted to kill me. She said that herself," Blake said. "This doesn't feel like such a heartwarming reunion anymore, does it?"

Sienna opened her mouth to reply, then closed it and looked at the ceiling. After a moment of silence, she made a frustrated gesture with her hands and met eyes with Blake again.

"What Trifa did was reprehensible, but it was beyond my control. I'm not her superior anymore. Haven't been for nearly a year," she said. "But I'll suggest to Corsac for her punishment to be severe."

"That's convenient. You're not in charge, but you have the boss's ear," Blake said.

"My relationship with the White Fang has been purely professional since I cut ties with them," Sienna said. "Corsac knew from his brother that I wanted to talk to you. He let me know you would be here as soon as Trifa reported to him. And that's the only favor he's ever granted me."

"So you wouldn't happen to know what your former associates were doing tonight. You wouldn't know they stole a truckload of Schnee weapons. And you certainly wouldn't know the damage they could do with those," Blake said. "No. You've never heard a word about any of that."

Though Sienna tried to hide it, Blake couldn't miss the anger that was starting to show in her expression. Her earlier attitude forgotten, Sienna sat up straighter and linked her fingers in front of her, and Blake had the impression that she had unknowingly entered herself into a debate.

"Do you know where those weapons actually came from?" Sienna asked.

"The SDC," Blake replied immediately. She had checked with Weiss, and sure enough, there had been company reports of the weapons being stolen on the highway during transport.

Sienna shook her head. "Before that. The weapons were produced by a manufacturer company in the northwest. A small, independent, faunus-owned company," she said. "Their business was thriving with the Grimm crisis. Obviously, the SDC didn't like that, so they swooped in and acquired the company. It was all very lawful."

Blake frowned. "And somehow, that justifies theft?"

"I didn't say that. But I find it difficult to feel sorry for the businessmen who left so many good faunus without the means to feed their families," Sienna said. "I've been told those injusticed souls have been welcomed by the White Fang with open arms. As for the weapons, I'm sure they'll be put to good use."

Sienna pointed at the ceiling, and Blake knew exactly what she meant by that. Yet somehow, she doubted the Grimm would be the only thing meeting the deadly ends of the White Fang's newest acquisitions.

"Listen, Blake. I understand your reservations. I can't blame you for being distrustful of me and the White Fang. It's my fault, after all," Sienna said, loosening up. "As leader of the White Fang, I cultivated a culture of hatred and violence. We saw the fruits of that in Adam. It would be easy for me to say that he was lost from the very beginning, but…" Her face twisted into a grimace. "He didn't become the monster he is today all by himself. Maybe if I had been less angry – if I had shown him a kinder path, like my…"

Sienna trailed off, her lips making a sharp line as she looked away, and despite her every reservation – despite everything – Blake found herself pitying the woman. Monster or not, Sienna had suffered for her own actions as much as Blake had. Maybe she deserved it, but that didn't make Blake feel vindicated.

"My ultimate point, Blake, is that I can't run from reality. I refuse to," Sienna said. "I've made victims. Plenty. And that's not something I can justify anymore. But what I can do is try to make up for it."

"That's… That's good," Blake said hesitantly. "But no amount of good will can erase the pain you've caused."

"I know. But it's not only good will that I'm willing to give." A fire sparked behind Sienna's eyes. "I've changed, but I haven't forgotten the experiences I've had, and what they taught me is that change only comes from decisive action. If you want something to come true, you need to give everything you have in you. And even then, sometimes that's not enough. That's why I need you."

Sienna reached inside her coat and brought out a pamphlet. She put it on the table and pushed it towards Blake, and all Blake could do was stare at it in stunned silence.

SIENNA KHAN

THE OLD FACE OF VACUO

VOTE FOR SECURITY AND UNITY IN GRIM TIMES

"I assumed you'd heard. With the nightly habits you keep, you must have caught wind early on," Sienna said, looking at Blake hopefully. "I know what you're going to say. I'm the last person in Vacuo who should be made councilwoman, but if you'll give me a chance to elaborate-"

"You should be the last person!" Blake dragged her chair back and stood up. "You should never hold any kind of power again in your life!" She turned away, shaking her head in disbelief. "I should have known. I should have seen this coming! Why else would you give up your position in the White Fang? And you have the nerve to lie to my face that you're sorry!"

"I wasn't lying! Everything I said was true," Sienna said, pressing her hand down on the pamphlet. "I'm running for council to make things better. To mend the country I helped break. And you're right, I don't deserve the power, but who else is going to do what's necessary?"

"I remember you used to think a lot of things were necessary."

"Don't you understand that Vacuo is a ticking time-bomb?" Sienna leaned forward, her fingers turning white above the paper. "One year ago, the world saw something it can never unsee. And while you were busy saving Vale, our country was on the brink of collapse. Do you know how many people died that day? Do you know how many more would have died if I hadn't rallied the White Fang to protect them?"

Blake's eyes widened. "Are you seriously trying to guilt-trip me for-"

"No! No, Goddamnit!"

Sienna's voice echoed on the walls, followed by an eerie silence that was only cut by the wind outside. Blake stood, fingers trembling around the handle of her blade. Her headache was but an afterthought compared to the deafening drumming of her heart.

"I'm sorry." Sienna's shoulders dropped, and she let go of the table entirely. "I don't claim to be a hero, or to know half as much about the Grimm as you do. But what I'm sure of is that they will be Vacuo's ruin, unless we do something about it before it's too late."

"And what's your plan?" Blake asked. "Steal every weapon you can find? Turn hundreds of angry, vengeful faunus into an army?"

"No. That's just a preventive measure," Sienna said. "The real solution is unity between faunus and humans. Until we have that, we will keep tearing each other down, and sooner or later, the Grimm will come to finish us off."

Blake grinned. "And you're going to bring the people together?"

"I have the faunus' trust. You have the humans'," Sienna said. "We can do this together, Blake. Please, join me."

In an instant, all of Blake's fury seemed to fade to nothing, leaving her with only a cold sensation inside her chest. She could feel the wind again, coming in through the windows, brushing against her skin, her ears…

"I'll die before I join your campaign," Blake said. "We're done here."

Sienna opened her mouth, but whatever she said, Blake didn't listen, walking to the door and nearly shoving it open. She let the wind slam it shut behind her and kept walking, without an idea of where she was or where she was going.

Blake ripped a strip off her shirt and wrapped it around her ears, and on she marched, into the darkness.

One hitched ride to the city and a short nap on the subway later, Blake was back home – or the closest thing she could call home these days.

She had first come across the church two years ago while scouring the city for a particularly ruthless White Fang member who had gone rogue. She hadn't found the man, but the top level of the church had been a discovery well worth her time. The ceiling was low and there wasn't much usable space under it, but it made for an excellent place to sleep in, be it summer or winter.

Blake liked it most for how good of a hiding place it was. Her disrupting the White Fang's operations for so long had earned her a great number of enemies. She had never been attacked in her sleep before, but Blake knew that was only because no one had been persistent enough to track her down yet. No measure was too much to ensure her safety.

Of course, it wasn't only her enemies she was hiding from… But she liked to keep that bothersome piece of reality locked away in the confines of her mind. Thinking about it only made her life harder.

Today, Blake couldn't be gladder about the solitude. Climbing on the side of the church, she quickly reached the roof and pushed aside a loose tile, then dropped through the hole it left. The floor creaked under her feet when she landed, and dust fell from the ceiling in front of her eyes.

She made her way to the pile of cloth she had fashioned into a bed and sat down, closing her eyes and taking the silence. The headache was mostly gone now, as was the anger and shock, but the cold remained, lodged in her heart like a blood-sucking parasite.

Sienna bothered her. What she was trying to do bothered her. Was she lying, was she being truthful – where fell the balance? But Blake wouldn't be so shaken if Sienna was her only worry.

Things wouldn't be so complicated if she had used her blade when she had the chance.

Lying down, Blake closed her eyes, and the last thing she heard as the morning dawned outside was the sound of a train that wasn't there.

Welcome back, Blake! You must be so excited about me writing another story all about you! (looks back at the first story and all the awful, traumatizing stuff that went down) ...Yaaay!

So this story will be... interesting. I've got some stuff planned that won't be quite like anything we've had before in the RSU. So, if you're looking for a surprise, keep tuned! I promise it will be great.

For a start, this chapter was already really different from what I'm used to. I tend not to do many drawn-out 'scenes', so the whole thing with Blake in the hideout and the Sienna conversation was a big novelty for me. I hope it went well with you guys! I'd love some feedback on it, if you can.

Here's to another heartwarming Belladonna tale! Thank you for reading!

-Zeroan