How did I end up here?
Did they find me and lock me up again?
I still have my gun and my backpack.
My eyes sweep across the room. The ceiling is low, held up by crooked beams. The walls are patched together from old wood and scrap metal, covered in rust stains and deep scratches.This isn't a cell.
Weapons stacked in the corners. Crates marked with Dust symbols. Sacks thrown across the floor like no one cared about the risk of everything blowing up at once. The smell of dust and metal is strong enough to sting my nose.
This is… a storage room?
Fragments of last night come back in disconnected flashes, followed immediately by a splitting headache.
Yeah…
I messed up.
But they didn't see through the disguise.
And I ate.
Could've been worse.
I brace a hand on the floor and stand up slowly, testing my legs. They complain, but they hold.
I roll my shoulders, adjust the oversized hoodie, and take a deep breath.
They threw a drunk kid into a place full of weapons and explosives and thought that was fine.
Wow… they have a lot of stuff here.
Fire Dust bombs. Wind Dust rounds. Ice Dust. Gravity Dust — all in their purest form.
Even Hard-Light Dust cartridges. Shield-type. And the newest model on the market.
Damn…
I'm taking some of this. They kidnapped me — I deserve it.
Is it safe to leave now?
Judging by the light leaking through the cracks under the door, it's morning. I can probably slip out without anyone noticing.
If anyone asks, I'll say I'm going to piss or something.
When I open the storage door, something feels off.
Where is everyone?
The camp that was loud, chaotic, and reeking of alcohol last night is now… way too quiet. The fires are out. No one around. Some tents are open, others look hastily closed.
No laughter.No shouting.No kids running around.
I step outside and gently close the door behind me. The sound feels way too loud in the strange silence. My whole body goes on alert.
"Okay… this is definitely not normal."
I look toward the camp gate. That's when I see it.
A crowd.
Too many people.
Armed silhouettes, all facing outward, like they're waiting for something… or someone.
Great. I'm not getting out through the gate — but I can probably find another way.
The moment I turn, a heavy arm cuts across my path. Not grabbing me. Doesn't need to.
Just enough to block me.
"Hey."
The voice is rough, impatient."Where do you think you're going?"
I glance around too fast and realize the obvious: no one is leaving. Anyone who tries gets shoved back into the mass, like water poured back into the same bucket.
"Chief's orders," the guy continues, already looking past me, bored."Everyone at the gate."
I swallow.
"Ah… right." I shrug, pretending not to care. "I Thought—"
"Now," he repeats, no patience left.
I don't argue. I don't look back. I just turn and follow the crowd.
These people are aggressive when they're not drunk.
.---.---.---.
Have I mentioned how much I hate crowds?
Yeah. I hate them. They're awful. Even during mansion events, I'd rather stay in my room or hide in a corner.
Everyone packed together. No respect for personal space.
Is the guy behind me armed or just happy to see me?
No idea. Don't want to find out.
I take the biggest step forward possible, just to get away from him. It barely helps. Now someone's breathing heavily on my left side too.
Perfect. Three people. Zero personal space.
I look up again, searching for anything that explains this silence.
And then I see the gate.
Open.
Figures step through from the other side, backlit by the morning sun. Controlled movements. Coordinated. This isn't late arrivals. This isn't a tribal patrol.
They walk in like they already own the place.
White masks stand out immediately. Carved horns. Tusks. Some carry long rifles over their shoulders. Others have axes. Some walk in unarmed — which is honestly worse.
Great. Perfect. Them again.
The White Fang.
Andy wasn't exaggerating.
They really do want a piece of a Schnee.
That means I need to get out of here fast.And I can't.Because of these bastards.
"Excuse me," I mutter, trying to shoulder my way through.
Doesn't work.
The guy in front doesn't even move. Someone behind me grunts something unintelligible and presses closer, like personal space is a personal insult.
Fantastic. I'm trapped in the middle of a bunch of armed criminals, and I can't even take two steps without touching someone.
How the hell am I supposed to get ou—
Suddenly, everyone moves.
Like they received a silent command.
Bodies shift. Arms lift. A corridor opens in the center of the camp. Clean. No shoving. Like everyone knows exactly where to look.
And then she appears.
Raven Branwen.
Arms crossed. A posture way too relaxed for someone standing between so many armed members of the White Fang.
I notice she's already healed from the gunshot wound to her shoulder.
No scar. No bandage.
The wonders of Aura.
Broken bones, fractures, bullet wounds — all gone like nothing.
She's even lucky. Born with a rare transformation Semblance.
Still strange that Aura didn't protect her from my shot while she was in crow form.
"RAVEN!"
A voice cuts through the tension.
A figure steps out from the White Fang ranks, standing apart from the others.
No mask. Face visible.
A tiger faunus. Black stripes running from her shoulder down her arm. Dark, practical clothing built for mobility, reinforced leather details standing out against the White Fang uniform.
She looks important.
"WHERE IS HE?" she demands.
Raven takes a step forward, arms still crossed."He's still safe… for now. But I can negotiate."
That clearly irritates the tiger faunus.
"Spare me, Raven. You'll get what we agreed on yesterday. We leave your territory. You hand over the Schnee."
"The deal changed," Raven shoots back."I want you out of Anima entirely. Go to Sanus. Settle in Vale or something."
The tiger faunus steps forward, amber eyes burning.
"Are you messing with me, Raven?" Her voice is low, sharp as a claw."My men came all the way to this filthy hole. I came. And now you want to renegotiate? After everything was agreed?"
Raven shrugs, calm.
"The boy is worth more than we agreed on. You know that, Sienna."
Sienna?
I've heard that name before.
Sienna grits her teeth — I can hear it from here.
"You know why we want him. It's not just money. It's justice. The Schnees destroyed Faunus lives for generations. This one will be an example."
Oh. She wants to kill me.
Raven smirks.
"Examples are expensive. And I don't do discounts for noble causes."
Sienna crosses her arms, impatient.
"Show me the Schnee."
Raven nods, like this is the simplest thing in the world.
"Shay!" she calls, her voice echoing across the camp.
A heavy silence follows. Heads turn.
A large man stumbles out from behind a tent. Scruffy beard. Bloodshot eyes. He adjusts his belt with one hand and scratches his head with the other, clearly pretending he wasn't snoring moments ago.
"Boss?" he grunts.
"Go get the prisoner from the cage," Raven orders, ice-cold."Bring him here. In one piece. Now."
Shay blinks slowly.
"…The cage? Now?"
"Now, Shay," Raven repeats — and this time there's a warning in her voice that sends a chill even down my spine.
Shay shrugs, mutters something unintelligible, and starts pushing through the crowd. His steps are heavy. Unsteady. The smell of alcohol reaches me even from here.
Sienna taps her foot.
"How long is this going to take, Raven?"
"Patience," Raven replies, eyes never leaving her."He's safe."
I start shifting sideways through the crowd. Head down. Shoulders slouched.
No one notices me — they're all locked on the confrontation.
Almost there.
Almost free.
Then Shay's shout cuts through the air like a siren.
"THE CAGE IS EMPTY! THE LOCK'S BLOWN! THE KID'S GONE!"
Chaos explodes in half a second.
Shouting. Confusion. Weapons drawn.
Raven snaps her head toward the sound, her expression hardening.
Sienna lets out a low, dangerous laugh.
"Safe, huh, Raven?"
Raven doesn't answer. Her red eyes sweep the crowd with terrifying speed.
And stop.
On me.
Our gazes lock for a fraction of a second.
Does she know?
No. No way. The disguise is perfect.
Her hand moves toward the sword at her waist.
She knows.
Plan C.
Hand into the backpack. I grab a pure Fire Dust cartridge — one of the big, unstable ones I took from the storage room.
I throw it high. Above everyone's heads.
All eyes go up.
I aim.
BANG!
The cartridge detonates midair.
A massive fireball blooms across the sky. Red sparks rain down like meteors. The heat wave alone forces everyone back a step.
Screams.People ducking. Covering their faces.Thick smoke swallowing the entire camp.
I run.
I shove through bodies, using the smoke as cover.
Gunfire erupts — into the air, into the ground, everywhere but me.
I hear Raven shouting orders.
I hear Sienna yelling, "GET HIM ALIVE!"
I hear Shay getting the scolding of his life:"YOU USELESS IDIOT, I TOLD YOU TO WATCH HIM!"
I don't stop.
I pass through the open gate, White Fang members coughing and disoriented in the smoke.
The forest swallows me.
Branches whip my face. Dirt sinks under my feet.
I run until my lungs burn.
Until the shouting fades into distant echoes.
Until all that's left is my ragged breathing and the sound of snapping branches.
Free.
With more Dust in my backpack.