Shards Of Reminisce Ch. 53

"GET DOWN!" I scream, diving to the floor as the first volley of gunfire erupts from the outdated models. Like, how the fuck are they still armed?!

Neo is quick to roll away in the opposite direction, taking advantage of her small form to create distance as she moves with that grace of hers as bullets whine through the air where we'd been standing just moments before.

And the spot where we were gets absolutely obliterated—wooden crates exploding into splinters, metal containers sparking as bullets ricochet off them, and packing material erupting in clouds of white foam that drifts through the air.

No seriously, that was way too dangerous, and Neo called them outdated? Then what the hell are the new models even capable of?!

I don’t need to be a genius to know the obvious that staying put means death, so I scramble on hands and knees until I can dive behind another crate—wood again, not ideal, but better than standing in the open like an idiot. At least, my temporary cover gives me precious seconds to think, my mind racing as more gunfire echoes through the warehouse around us and hitting who knows what besides knowing that they are wrecking the place.

The warehouse is filled with Atlas Knights, old outdated models but still dangerous as hell. And judging by the sheer number of red optical visors lighting up the warehouse before they shot, I know for a fact that we're seriously outnumbered. At least thirty, maybe more.

Also, there aren't just Atlas Knights that decided to activate...

Wait...

My ears perk up as I hear a loud, angry buzzing sound directly above me. I instinctively look up to see a small group of those flying bots diving toward my position at full speed, their rotors screaming ever closer. Their REALLY sharp rotors.

Shit!

I don’t think twice before I launch myself away from my cover just as the small machines crash into the crate I'd been hiding behind, their spinning blades shredding through wood like it was made of paper. Splinters explode in all directions as they tear the container apart viciously.

I don't need another second to know that those things are going to be a massive fucking problem since they force me to leave cover and be out in the open. 

Knowing the danger I’m in, I instantly lock onto another knight that's charging straight at me, twin blades extending from each of its hands with a mechanical whir. The weapons have a faint glow emanating from their centers; I don’t want to find out if that glow has an extra function. And the mechanical bastard moves with surprising speed for something so bulky.

But that gives me an opportunity, I quickly lunge forward, meeting its charge head-on. My left claw, deflecting its strike and creating an opening so I tear through its torso, slicing the robot clean in half in one fluid motion. Sparks shower everywhere as circuits fry and the whole thing malfunctions.

The upper half crashes to the ground, still moving erratically and crackling with electricity. Although, the legs collapse and stop working without any drama though.

And just in time as the rest of my enemies finally take notice and lock on as they raise their arms.

Quick thinking kicks in as I grab the sparking metallic torso, hefting it up just as another burst of gunfire comes screaming toward me. Thankfully, the bullets ping off the broken body instead of hitting me, the metal absorbing the impact with satisfying clangs.

Using the stupid robot as an improvised shield, I start running toward better cover while more gunfire tracks my movement, leaving bullet holes in the concrete floor behind me or whizzing past me, rather than scare me it actually makes me feel my blood pumping. The heap of metal and circuits doesn't feel that heavy, but I know for a fact that I can't keep this up forever—a stray bullet could catch me anywhere, aura or not. I do not want to get hit by a bullet. And I can't forget that those mini-bots could swarm me and shred me to pieces.

But as I keep moving one thought comes back to me.

Where is Neo?

I remember that my partner rolled away and disappeared in the chaos, but I know she isn’t one to flee, she must have put something into action.

And those thoughts turn into reality when from the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of pink. Glancing that way while still moving, I catch my partner destroying a pair of Knights by impaling their heads before she vanishes from view again. The remaining Knights around her immediately turn around trying to catch her but seem completely clueless, rotating in place as they search for a target that's no longer there.

Even then the flying drones still swarm the spot but only crash against another robot and they destroy each other in the process.

But that means that these bastards can't track her besides physically seeing her.

Making Neo’s semblance a massive advantage, turning the situation in our favor.

All I need is to hold on.

So I keep running through until I reach a corner of the warehouse that hasn't been completely wrecked and find a metallic shipping container—not one of the big ones, but still large enough for cover. I drop the sparking torso and duck behind it, finally getting a moment to breathe.

Only then do I let out a sigh and a frustrated groan as I drag a hand across my hair and face.

"Fuck this…."

I look down at myself—my clothes are intact, meaning no bullet hit me by sheer luck. But that makes me frown when I look at the claws on my hands. This was a terrible weapon choice for this fight. The robots have range advantage and numbers, plus those flying bastards make close combat suicide.

Why didn’t I change to gladiator first? My shield should hold against bullets now that I think about it, I remember the last one I got could withstand explosive dust rounds without cracking.

No, bad idea. I could defend myself but then get swarmed from above or behind by the flying shits.

I need something more agile and range.

I need…

'Class change: Dancer!'

My claws dematerialize and are instantly replaced by the weight of my chakrams, but I quickly holster them on my waist since I don’t need them at the moment. Instead, I reach into my inventory and pull out one of those rifles I've been carrying around—because I just remembered that I still have a large cache of Roman’s weapons with me and I only used up all the explosives.

It's a standard rifle, and lucky for me, it's already loaded with dust rounds and the safety is off.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what's probably going to be a stupid plan. But then again, I cannot stay put for too long or I get cornered, and that's a death sentence. And it would be really stupid if I died like that.

I peer over the edge of my cover, spotting a group of three Atlas Knights approaching in formation, their weapons trained on my position as they synchronized their steps. Their optical sensors sweep back and forth, red lights cutting through the smoky air.

They don;t know where I’m hiding but I cannot let them get too close either.

I move instantly, popping up from cover and pressing the trigger. The rifle kicks against my shoulder as I empty the entire magazine in one sustained burst, muzzle flashes lighting up my face as spent casings clatter to the ground around me in a brass symphony.

Only to discover that I hit jack-shit. Point-blank.

Every single bullet goes wide, sparking off walls, punching through empty crates, basically hitting everything except the fucking robots I was aiming for. The metallic things don't even flinch—they just keep advancing like my pathetic display of marksmanship was nothing more than an annoyance.

And their visors finally locked onto me.

Are you fucking kidding me?!

I drop the useless weapon and dive back behind cover just as return fire peppers my position, bullets pinging off the metal container with sharp metallic rings. I hit my forehead with my palm, groaning at my own stupidity for even thinking that was a good idea. 

Of course I can't shoot for shit—I never actually learned how to use a gun properly. The only real experience I had was months ago with a pistol, and I didn't even aim then. I just shot point-blank into a tide of Grimm where missing was literally impossible.

This is different. This requires actual skill I don't fucking have.

I slam my fist against the metal container in frustration; the clang echoing through the surrounding chaos. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to calm down and think clearly instead of panicking. I'm not that desperate idiot from months ago anymore.

However, a message pops up in my visor.

'Door is locked. We're trapped, kitten.'

Well, shit. So somebody was definitely waiting for us before setting off this trap. That's the only logical explanation for this clusterfuck.

And Cinder planned this? It had to be. She probably put one of her lackeys up to it, but then again, that woman didn't seem the type to have a fucking army of robots at her disposal. She was more the "do it herself and gloat about it" type.

No, this meant it had to be an enemy of hers. Rather than face whatever threat this was herself, she sent me instead like the bitch she is. So whoever's controlling this place activated the overkill security thinking I was part of Cinder's group.

What a fucking brilliant strategy—let someone else deal with your problems while you sit back safely.

But I don't have much time for angry thoughts as I hear that familiar angry buzzing closing in, meaning the flying shitstains are coming for me again.

I grab my chakrams, one in each hand, feeling their familiar weight settle into my palms. The metal rings gleam in the harsh warehouse lighting.

At least with these, I know what I'm doing.

The buzzing grows louder, and I can hear the sharp mechanical whir of the rotors as they close in on my position. I take one more deep breath, feeling that familiar sensation wash over me—the one where everything slows down and my body knows exactly how to move and rhythm settles in.

“Here we go.”

I spring into action the moment the first wave of flying bots rounds the corner and locks onto me with their glowing red sensors.

That's my cue to finally act. Chakrams spinning in my hands, I leap to the side in a graceful arc. The first throw cuts through the air in a perfect spiral, slicing clean through two of the flying bastards before ricocheting off a metal support beam at just the right angle to nail a third one on the return.

I catch the jagged ring without even looking, my hand moving to the exact spot where I somehow knew it would be. For a split second, I stare at my weapon with wide eyes.

Did I actually predict that?

I shake my head to dismiss those useless thoughts. There's no time to think about it as more bots swarm toward me like mechanical vultures they are.

The second ring leaves my hand immediately, spinning toward a cluster. It carves through three of them in a whistling arc before bouncing off a concrete pillar at an angle that sends it directly into the optical sensor of an approaching Knight that was about to shoot. Sparks shower everywhere as the robot stumbles blindly, before crashing to the ground in a heap of twisted metal.

The same three Atlas Knights that were shooting at me suddenly change their guns to blades and charge my position, their blades glowing faintly at the centers as they coordinate their attack. But I'm already moving, dropping into a low spin as the first one swings over my head. My chakram catches it in the knee joint, grinding against metal as I sever the joint and cables.

I use the momentum from my spin to launch into a backflip, avoiding the second Knight's downward strike while my other ring flies in a high arc overhead. The weapon ricochets off a hanging light, changes direction with a metallic ping, and strikes the third robot square in its neck joint. Then it returns to my outstretched hand as I land in a perfect crouch.

The damaged model with the blown knee stumbles forward, and I don't waste the opening. I spring upward in a leap, driving my sharp weapon through its torso plating with a satisfying crunch of circuits and metal before yanking it free and stepping away from its collapsing form.

More flying bots dive at me from above, buzzing like angry wasps in an endless swarm. I leap onto a nearby crate, muscles coiling as I use it as a springboard to vault higher into the air. My weapons fly in twin arcs, cutting through them before ricocheting off various surfaces—walls, pipes, metal containers—each bounce perfectly angled to hit another target.

That's either incredible luck or my body somehow knows exactly how to make these throws actually work.

The drones drop like metallic rain around me as I mitigate my fall with a perfectly timed roll, both weapons returning to my hands with satisfying slaps against my palms. The precision is getting easier with each throw, like my muscles are remembering movements I never learned. But this feels different from when I fight alongside Neo—more instinctive, more... fluid.

I look up and don't see any more flyers in the immediate area, meaning I managed to clear this section. Or at least I hope I did.

However, my ears twitch as I hear mechanical footsteps from both sides. I glance down to see two more Knights advancing, trying to flank me from either direction.

Rather than wait for them to close the distance, I make a leap toward the one on my left. My rings slice through both its arms in crossing arcs before I plant a powerful kick against its chest plate, watching it crash backward into a stack of crates with a thunderous impact.

The other Knight doesn't wait—it's already closing in with its blade raised. I simply twist to the side, then drop into a sweeping leg kick that completes a full circle. Using my arms to spring myself back to my feet in one fluid motion, I quickly stomp down on its head with a satisfying crunch.

Not losing focus, I quickly scan my surroundings and notice that the remaining Knights aren’t on me but are more focused on hunting for Neo than attacking me. Intense beams of light sweep back and forth from their visors as they methodically scan every corner and shadow of the warehouse.

Then she jumps from a crate, kicking the head off from one of the dumb bots before she shatters into pieces. 

Smart girl. Her illusions are throwing them off. 

It was a really good idea to bring her along, otherwise this would have been ten times worse for me or I would have already been shot and maybe even dead.

I take that moment to sprint toward better cover, diving behind another shipping container where I allow myself a brief rest since that group hasn't noticed me. Just a few seconds to catch my breath and plan my next move.

I'm panting slightly—not exhausted, but definitely starting to feel a little tired from this whole thing. Still, I cannot help but let my lips curl into a smirk. I can win this, no doubt about it. Just need a short break before joining my partner to finish off the remaining units.

But then my nose starts twitching at a strong smell. There's something in the air—a weird smell, almost like...

My eyes widen as alarms suddenly blare throughout the warehouse, their shrill wail echoing off the walls. A second later, the sprinkler system activates with a mechanical hiss, raining water down from every corner of the ceiling in a torrential downpour.

However, almost instantly, I hear crackling—intense electrical crackling that sounds like a thousand bugs being fried at once along with distorted sounds. That instantly got me curious so I dared to peek from my cover once more and watch the remaining outdated Atlas Knights moving erratically, jerking and twitching. Sparks shower from their joints and visors in brilliant cascades before they all collapse in succession, smoke rising from them and even some of their heads literally exploding. 

Their weakness was fucking water?

That seems almost too obvious and embarrassingly stupid for military hardware from the most technologically and powerful kingdom of Remnant, but I guess that’s why Neo mentioned that they were outdated models, waterproofing maybe wasn't a thing. 

Either way, I let out a long, tired sigh as I rub my neck and slide down to rest my back against the cold metallic surface before taking off my visor and sending it back to my inventory.

A strange win, but another win for me, nevertheless.

Wait, I wonder if…

‘Status’

Ma’iq Rakhan

Race–Feline Faunus

Age 18

Class: The pugilist

Level–25 (88%)

Mentor – (Neopolitan)

Apprentice– Jeanne d’Arc

HP – 1120/1120 [90 regen per minute]

MP –2003/2610 [350 regen per minute]

SP – 2965/4160 [300 regen per minute]

STR–95

END–76  

DEX–87 

INT–56 

WIS–53

CHA– 57 

LCK–1 

Status: 

[The Big One protects yes, yes!]

BLOCKED [Ȳ̶̨̼ỏ̪͔͍ͯ͜͞ú̴̷͔̦̥͍̊͞ ̴̘̲̤̮̠ͦͣͣ̕̕͟c̷͍̩̭͚͔̯̩̓͒ͭ̈́̿̕a̢̡̛̻̭̝̗̗ͥ̉ͬ̀͗̌҉n̸̡̡̡͔͖̺͇̭̯̊̄ͧ͑̍́’̱̗̼̞̱͉̃̾ͬ͂́̃̈͟͜͟t̨̨̨̠͓̗̩̙̙͆̏̅̑̀̅ͮ ̬̙̳̬͖͎́͗ͧ͊̾͗͊͢͜ḛ̷̡̹̟͙̖͍̒̊̈́͌ͥ͞ŝ̴̸̶͍̺̹́̇̓̉͜c̺̀̆́̄ͩͪ͘ͅa̸͚̭̪̔̌̈́p͎͙͆̐e̞▒  (PERMANENT)

Apprenticeship: 25% of exp gained from apprentice actions.

Mentorship: 25% EXP increase

Lovers comfort: 15% increase from non-combat sources EXP (4:12 hours remaining)

Rested Experience: 50% increase from all sources of EXP (1 level worth of exp remaining)

The Road to 30 : Provides a multiplicative 100% bonus to all sources of EXP

So destroying the robots also gave me experience, that’s good to know. This whole thing wasn’t a waste of time and almost made up for the attempt at my life. And all those bonunes are very much worth, otherwise I wouldn;t have gotten this much exp.

I guess it is time to make another short expedition to the forest…

No wait, not the time to be thinking about any of this.

I lift my chin and close my eyes, actually enjoying the water cascading down on me and dampening my clothes. It's refreshing after all that spinning, jumping, and throwing. The cool droplets wash away the sweat and grime from the fight.

Besides, I have spare clothes.

But soon enough, the water stops falling on me, which causes me to open my eyes and find a familiar pink umbrella blocking the spray. Lowering my gaze, I see Neo standing there with that trademark smug smile of hers, looking completely dry and pristine while I'm sitting here like a drowned cat.

'Told you they were outdated, kitten.'

I just chuckle, wiping water from my face with the back of my hand. "Should have mentioned the water weakness from the start. Would've saved me some fancy footwork."

She shrugs with that typical nonchalance before sitting beside me, folding her umbrella and letting the water shower both of us. Apparently, she's as content as I am to just sit here and decompress.

"So now what?" I ask, leaning my head back against the container and watching the sprinklers continue their wasteful work.

'Just wait, kitten. People will come to open the door for us soon. I'll use my semblance and sneak us out before they even know we were here.'

"Sounds like a plan," I mutter, closing my eyes again. "Just back me up once I punch that bitch.'"

Neo's silent laughter makes her shoulders shake against mine.

And so we wait, listening to the sound of water hitting metal.

Soon enough, we hear the distant sound of sirens, followed by the crash of the main doors being rammed open as VPD rushes the place with shields and weapons drawn.

But by then, we'd already slipped out and left.

---------------------------------------------

We arrived at the hideout after taking a small detour for a walk and change of clothes. Neo also had a spare set and gave me a brief show that definitely improved my mood temporarily.

But that's where the fun ends as I finally arrive at the warehouse absolutely livid, practically stomping my way through the entrance and slamming the door behind me so hard the hinges rattle. The sound echoes through the warehouse like a gunshot, announcing my presence to every sorry bastard in the building.

Even if Cinder's strong, I'm dead set on punching her so hard in the face that she loses a tooth. Hell, Neo already told me that even that prick Roman would jump in with us—not because of what she did to me, but because he hates Cinder's guts. She also mentioned it would put Cinder in a position that showed what a manipulative coward she really is.

We keep crossing the warehouse, ignoring the scattered henchmen who wisely get out of our way.

My goal is set, and I won't back down. I'm done putting up with that woman's games.

However, once I arrive at the main gathering area where everyone usually hangs out, there's nobody there. Not Roman, not Cinder, not Mercury, not even that green-haired lapdog. The place is empty except for a few scattered chairs, the lingering smell of cigarettes, and that white billboard covered in pictures and scribbles.

Even that desk from before is gone. Did that prick move his operation somewhere else?

I can't help but click my tongue in frustration, feeling my anger deflate like a balloon. So much for my dramatic confrontation.

But I guess that should have been expected. Those assholes wouldn't just loiter around waiting for something to happen—they're probably off scheming somewhere else. Somewhere I have no fucking clue about.

A hand starts tugging at my shirt, making me turn to find Neo pouting beside me in clear disappointment.

'No fight?'

"Next time," I mutter, running a hand through my still damp hair. "Cinder probably knew we survived and decided to make herself scarce."

That quickly changes Neo's attitude as she gives me a nod with a giggle that's equal parts amused and vindictive, then points in a different direction before taking the lead.

She takes me to a door marked 'Office'—which sounds stupidly obvious, but that means Roman's probably in there doing paperwork. The mental image of that attention-whore thief trapped behind a desk is funny.

Neo pulls out a key from somewhere in her outfit and unlocks the door with a soft click, beckoning me to follow her inside with a mischievous smile.

We enter together to find Roman hunched over a desk, writing numbers on what looks like accounting sheets. He's not wearing his signature bowler hat—the thing is hanging on the chair behind him—and he's not smoking either. Just focused on his mundane work like some kind of legitimate businessman trying to balance the books.

He lets out a long, theatrical sigh before raising his gaze the moment he hears us enter. His expression immediately sours the second his green eyes land on me, like he just stepped in something unpleasant.

"Well, well," he says, setting down his pen with deliberate slowness and leaning back in his chair. "Look what the cat dragged in. And I do mean cat." His lips curl into that familiar sneer. "Let me guess—you managed to screw up whatever simple task Cinder gave you and now you're here to whine about it?"                                                                                                                                                                                        

I merely roll my eyes. He's seriously an asshole, but I won't let him get under my skin. Though I can't help but notice he's really ramping up the insults lately, and this started happening after...

Oh. He knows about me and Neo. And he's really pissed off about it. Well, tough luck, asshole.

Roman turns his attention to Neo, his expression softening considerably. "Neo, my dear, please tell me you at least managed to pull the mangy cat out of whatever shithole he fell into." He gestures dismissively in my direction without even looking at me. "I don't want to deal with extra paperwork because the fleabag got himself killed and you want a replacement."

Neo just makes a so-so gesture with her hand, tilting it back and forth.

The thief raises an eyebrow at that response, then lets out another theatrical sigh as he rubs his temples, but I hope he is actually having a migraine. "Of course..." He finally addresses me directly, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk, fingers steepled. "Alright, fleabag, enlighten me. What exactly happened? And please, try to use small words—I know thinking isn't exactly your kind's strong suit."

I cross my arms and fix him with a steady glare. "I actually did that woman's job, you pompous prick. Went to the warehouse, looked for whatever she wanted me to find, just like she asked." I pause for effect. "Of course, I didn't believe for a second it would be easy, so I asked Neo for backup."

Neo nods.

"So we went in together, and here's the fun part—the whole thing was a fucking setup. We explored the place looking for whatever Cinder wanted destroyed, but only found old Atlesian robots. Fully functional ones that immediately activated the moment some bastard locked the entire place."

Roman's expression shifts dramatically, the smugness fading as he becomes genuinely serious. He leans back in his chair, stroking his chin as his brow furrows in thought. "Fully functional Atlas Knights? That's... odd. Very odd."

"You tell me," I reply. After all, I've only been dealing with scrap metal and stolen tech so far.

"And these were the old models, right?"

"Neo said they were outdated so yeah."

Roman's green eyes narrow as he processes this information. "Hmm..." After a moment of contemplation, he snaps back to his usual theatrical, annoying self, but there's an edge to it now. "Well, well. That certainly wasn't in the job description, was it, kitty cat? It's a real shame you didn't lose that tail of yours in there—would've saved me the headache of looking at it." His grin turns genuinely malicious. "But at least we learned something interesting about our dear Cinder's... methods."

I roll my eyes again, getting tired of his constant jabs. "Where is that bitch anyway?"

Roman shrugs his shoulders in an exaggerated gesture, spreading his arms wide. "Why would I know? She could be anywhere in this fair city of ours. Hopefully, she got mugged and is bleeding out in some back alley, but you can't always get what you wish for." His grin widens.. "Though I would absolutely love to see her expression when she learns that you're still breathing and, unfortunately for the rest of us, completely unscathed."

What a dick.

Without even thinking about it, I extend my arm and wrap it around Neo's waist, pulling her close against my side. She immediately melts into the embrace, wrapping her arms around my waist and looking up at me and giggling.

Roman's reaction is priceless—a mixture of disgust, rage, as he watches his precious Neo cuddling up to the "mangy stray" he clearly despises. I wanted to start groping her in front of him but that might have been a little too far and shoot me.

"If you have nothing else useful to say, WE'll be going," I say with a smirk. "Don't let us keep you from your very important paperwork."

"Get out of my office before I decide to use you to castrate you, you dumb cat," he snarls.

I merely smirk wider in response and head for the door, taking my girl with me and enjoying every second of Roman's impotent fury.

He asked for it, so he has no right to complain.

The moment we step out of Roman's office and the door closes behind us, her fingers find my stomach, poking and pinching through my shirt with that mischievous grin spreading across her face.

'Naughty kitten! Making him so angry like that.'

"H-Hey!" I try to say, but she's relentless, her hands finding every spot that makes me squirm. "Come on, cut it out!"

‘Nope’

-----------------------------------------

-Ruby Rose, City of Vale-

Ruby Rose zipped through the city streets, her red cloak billowing behind her as she made a beeline for her only destination. She had to make this quick—super quick—because curfew was approaching fast, and she absolutely did not want to face Professor Goodwitch's wrath. That woman could be downright terrifying when she wanted to be, and Ruby didn;t want to risk it.

"Okay, Ruby, focus," she muttered to herself, slowing down as she spotted the sweet shop ahead. "Mission: acquire cookies. Difficulty: easy. Reward: deliciousness!"

She needed to stock up on her essential weekly cookie supply. Sure, the cafeteria technically sold cookies, but calling those sad, cardboard-tasting things "cookies" was practically criminal. They were so bland they made her taste buds cry, and no self-respecting cookie enthusiast like her could survive on those alone.

Ruby pressed her nose against the display case, her silver eyes lighting up at the rows of perfectly golden cookie boxes. "Two or three boxes?" she wondered aloud, tapping her finger against the glass. "Or maybe four? No, wait, what about five?"

If it were up to her—and if her wallet wasn't so tragically light—she'd buy a dozen boxes without blinking. Heck, she'd buy two dozen! But reality was cruel, and her allowance was already stretched thin. Any more spending and she'd be eating nothing but cafeteria gruel for the rest of the week.

Plus, Weiss would probably give her one of those lectures about proper eating. Not that Weiss was wrong, exactly, but cookies were basically a food group, right?

She really did like Weiss—honest! Her partner had turned out to be way nicer than Ruby had initially feared. Sure, she could be a tiny bit overbearing sometimes, like when she reorganized Ruby's weapon maintenance schedule or insisted on proper study habits, but her heart was in the right place. And thank goodness for Ren being there to mediate whenever things got too heated between any of them.

Actually, now that she thought about it, their team had worked out way better than she'd expected. Those first few weeks had been rough—Weiss clearly wanted to be team leader, and Ruby had been terrified she'd mess everything up. But somehow they'd found their rhythm. Well, except for Nora's volume levels. That girl could wake the dead with her morning enthusiasm, and that was saying something considering Yang's usual energy levels.

Speaking of Yang... Ruby felt a little pang thinking about her sister. It would've been amazing to be on the same team, but Yang's team was pretty awesome too. Blake seemed really cool in that mysterious way, and Weiss had mentioned that their fourth teammate was—

"Oh! Right!" Ruby snapped back to attention, realizing she'd been daydreaming while staring at her prize. "Focus, Ruby! Beacon waits for no one!"

She grabbed three boxes of chocolate chip cookies—her absolute favorite—and practically bounced over to the checkout counter.

The shopkeeper smiled warmly as she rang up the purchase. "That'll be three hundred lien, dear."

"Perfect!" Ruby chirped, fishing the exact change from her pocket.

"Here's your receipt, sweetie," the woman said, then paused, her expression shifting to… concern? "Oh, honey, do you happen to know that person outside?"

"Huh?" Ruby blinked, turning to follow the woman's gaze.

Through the shop window, pressed against the glass was a figure that made Ruby's stomach suddenly feel a goosebump. The person wore a tattered, ragged hooded robe that had seen far better days, and beneath it, mismatched pieces of armor clung to their frame—a shoulder guard here, a chest plate there, none of it matching, all of it looking like it had been scavenged from different sources. But what really made Ruby's skin crawl, much to her surprise, was the full face gas mask covering their features completely, two eerie green lights glowing where their eyes should be, staring directly at her with an unblinking intensity.

"He's been standing there for the past ten minutes, just... watching," the shopkeeper continued, her voice dropping to a worried whisper. "Gives me the creeps, honestly."

Ruby's hand instinctively moved toward Crescent Rose, even though her beloved scythe was currently in its compact form on her belt. She definitely didn't recognize this person—and honestly, she'd remember someone that… creepy.

"That's... really, really weird," she murmured. The glowing green eyes seemed to follow her every movement, and something deep in her gut told her this wasn't just some random weirdo. "And super creepy. Like, nightmare-fuel level creepy."

“Should I call the police, dear?" the shopkeeper asked, her voice trembling slightly as she reached for something, maybe a scroll, behind the counter.

Ruby squinted at the figure through the window and quickly shook her head. "No, no! That would take way too long, and I'll miss curfew for sure." She couldn't afford to get stuck here waiting for the authorities—Professor Goodwitch would probably make her scrub the training room floors with a toothbrush... Okay, maybe not that extreme, but she was definitely getting detention!

Besides, she was a Huntress-in-training, and dealing with creepy bad guys was literally going to be her job alongside killing Grimm. "If this guy's up to something bad, then it's my responsibility to handle it."

After all, she'd fought Roman Torchwick and his goons and won. One weird masked guy shouldn't be much of an issue for someone who'd taken down a notorious criminal, right?

"Oh sweetie, maybe you should use the back door?" the woman offered, wringing her hands nervously. "I can show you the way out through the storage room. You don't have to confront him directly."

Ruby appreciated the concern—she really did—but running away just wasn't her style. "Thanks, but no. I'm going to face this head-on." She gave the shopkeeper what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, I've got this!"

"But dear, he looks dangerous—"

Ruby was already moving toward the entrance, her hand instinctively gripping Crescent Rose's compact form at her belt. The familiar weight of her weapon gave her confidence, and she could feel the familiar thrill of adrenaline starting to course through her.

The little bell above the door chimed cheerfully as she stepped outside, a sound that felt completely at odds with the tense atmosphere. The masked figure hadn't moved, still pressed against the window like some kind of mannequin.

Up close, he was even more unsettling. Ruby could hear his breathing now—ragged, mechanical sounds filtered through the gas mask that made her skin crawl in a way that was completely foreign to her. Even the ancient Nevermore hadn't made her feel this uneasy, and that thing had been the size of a building. The person was definitely male, and a bit taller than her—which wasn't saying much since most people were taller than her.

"Do I know you?" she called out, her voice carrying more confidence than she felt. "Because if not, then why are you standing here watching me? That's super creepy, by the way."

No response. He just continued staring at her through those glowing green lenses, then slowly—almost robotically—tilted his head to one side like some curious but predatory bird. The breathing sounds grew louder, more labored, each exhale creating an eerie whistling sound through the mask's filters.

Ruby felt a chill run down her spine, but she stood her ground. "Okaaay then..." she said, drawing out the word as she shifted into a more defensive stance. "I'm going to ask you nicely to stop being a total creep and leave. Otherwise, I'm going to have to kick your butt, and trust me, I'm really, really good at butt-kicking."

Still nothing. Just that unnerving stare and the increasingly unsettling sound of mechanical breathing, like some kind of broken ventilator wheezing.

Ruby's grip tightened on Crescent Rose, her thumb hovering over the release mechanism. Something was definitely wrong here—more wrong than just some random weirdo being creepy—and every instinct she'd developed as a Huntress-in-training was screaming at her to be ready for a fight.

So she was ready, even if a part of her was telling her not to fight, which was completely baffling. Ruby Rose never backed down from a fight—especially when protecting people was involved.

But then something unexpected happened. The masked man suddenly took a sharp step backward, raising both hands in what looked like... surrender?

"Oh!" Ruby felt a wave of relief wash over her as she softened her grip on her weapon. "See? I told you I was good at—"

But then he started gesturing frantically, pointing directly at her and then at his own tattered robes with jerky, desperate movements. He seemed to be trying to say something, but only more ragged, shortened breaths came through that creepy mask.

And somehow, Ruby found herself understanding those frantic gestures.

"My cloak?" Ruby instinctively pulled the red fabric closer to herself, her free hand clutching the precious material. This was her mom's cloak—the most precious thing she owned—and having some creepy stranger point at it made her feel inexplicably uncomfortable and protective. "What about it?"

That was when he became even more frantic, shaking his head side to side while his arms flailed wildly, making her think of a panicked chicken trying to take flight. She could tell he desperately wanted to say something, but no words came out—maybe he was mute?

That still didn't lessen the creepy factor one bit.

Then suddenly, without warning, the green glowing eyes flashed brilliant red for just an instant. Everything stopped. The man spun around abruptly and bolted, his mismatched armor clanking as he ran away and disappeared around the corner faster than she would have expected. 

“Aura?”

Ruby stood there in the suddenly quiet street, completely baffled and still holding her cloak protectively. "What the heck was that all about?"

Beep beep!

Her scroll chimed urgently, and Ruby's silver eyes went wide as saucers when she saw the time display.

"Oh crud! I'm going to be so, so late!"

Without another thought about the bizarre encounter, Ruby activated her petal burst, rose petals scattering in her wake as she raced back toward the airship station at breakneck speed. The weird masked guy would have to remain a mystery for now—Professor Goodwitch's terrifying wrath was a much more immediate and concrete threat!