This was a fiasco.
Egrer, Nora, and Weiss sat under the cherry tree like idiots, surrounded by propaganda leaflets and with a red flag thrust into the ground. They hadn't chosen this tree as their meeting spot by accident—it was right next to the main road leading to the Headmaster's tower and the dorms. People were constantly walking by here, making it the best place to grab the public's attention.
The plan was for at least ten people to join the union. Such a crowd right by the most frequented road would definitely have caught the eye of skeptics and doubters. They would've thought, "Whoa! The union is actually popular! Maybe I should at least hear what they have to say."
The reality was disappointing—after the "Glynda-therapy," even Magenta and Jaune didn't show up. Apparently, the chance to get closer to the object of his desire wasn't as tempting for Jaune as the fear of getting a thrashing from Miss Goodwitch was great. But why didn't Magenta come? Egrer was still scratching his head over that one.
The only person who had approached them the entire time was the angry custodian. Fill Chuckler, according to the name tag on his chest. The same Fill who wrote the rules on the poster in the cafeteria, and the same Fill the other students talked about: "He's like Goodwitch, but completely nuts and without Aura; if he spots you—run."
Egrer had expected something more from the second-most intimidating man in Beacon. He was just a grey-haired, hunchbacked old geezer slightly over a hundred years old, wearing the standard academy work uniform. He didn't look scary, but past lessons taught that appearances are deceiving.
He screamed at them for their recent agitation, called them "stupid commie scum," and assured them that under the old regime, trash like them wouldn't have been coddled. Weiss jumped to the defense of her organization, first noting that they weren't communists but simply social activists. The custodian didn't see the difference and threatened that one more stunt like this and he'd assign them detention for the rest of their lives. After that, muttering about "back in the day," he gave them a lecture on the impermissibility of "rocking the boat," occasionally reminding them that they were useless, pathetic libtards. Egrer corrected him and said they were communists. The custodian didn't see the difference, spat a few more times, and left.
The union unanimously decided that Fill Chuckler was their class enemy.
After that chewing out, they realized more than ever that they were alone in all of Beacon. The faculty was against them, the Headmaster held near-absolute power, and the public just laughed at them.
Languishing from boredom and gloom, the only union members started playing "I Spy," but they got tired of it fast. Then they climbed the tree and Weiss shouted an improvised speech through a megaphone. No one approached. Finally, they started intercepting everyone who walked past, pushily suggesting they join the union. All of it was pointless.
Suddenly, footsteps were heard, and three heads snapped toward the source. It was some freshman who sped up and pretended not to notice their hungry glares. The union had already lost hope for any result, but hope, as they say, dies last. So, they followed him with their eyes until he disappeared around the corner.
Nora sighed.
"Bo-ring." She flopped onto the grass and started waving her arms and legs wide, as if making a snow angel. Speaking of snow angels...
Weiss was burning everything she looked at with a gaze that hated the whole world. Just a little more anger and she'd start firing lasers from her eyes. She was the reason people were afraid to come near them; Egrer comforted himself by thinking that if she looked more welcoming, people would be flocking to them.
He was feeling depressed too, so he started singing an equally depressing song:
"From old friends... there's no news—it's sad.
And in the soul... from fresh papers—it's empty."
It wasn't very comfortable without a guitar; Egrer felt he'd lost the right rhythm in a couple of places. But it didn't matter; he just wanted to occupy this evening with something, anything.
"And from the stale ones—there's little joy.
Though there was... an army buddy—he's gone.
Oy-yo, oy-yo, oy-yo-o-o-o!"
Over time, Nora started singing along, but she didn't know the words, so she only droned the "Oy-yo" with him, but damn, did she put feeling into it! It was immediately clear that she was suffering from the boredom even more than he was.
"Secretary to the General Secretary, private," Weiss called out demandingly. "It's already gloomy enough here, and now you're doing it with your song."
"Come join us and it won't be so gloomy," Egrer suggested. "Know the lyrics?"
"I don't sing."
"You do, and you're great at it." He wasn't a huge fan of her work, but of the things they had to sing at Junior's club, her songs were the best and actually had some meaning.
"When I enrolled in Beacon, I decided to end my performing career. I no longer have time for that."
"Well, you have time right now, and we're not on stage. You can just sing for yourself." It suddenly dawned on him. "Or do you not sing at all anymore?"
"At all," Weiss nodded a second later.
"But why?"
"I never liked it," she admitted in a sharp, irritable tone. "I studied and performed at my father's command so he could brag to his friends about what a 'smart girl' he has~" She cut herself off abruptly. "Forget it."
"Alright," Egrer simply nodded.
"You sing if you want to," Weiss permitted a second later. "I don't mind anymore."
"Then I'd better go grab my guitar. I'll find Madge at the same time; maybe she just forgot to come? That sounds like her."
"Pointless." The General Secretary followed Nora's example and flopped onto the grass. And if someone who cares religiously about personal hygiene and dislikes nature is doing that, then things are very bad for them. Real despair could be traced in Weiss's voice. "There's only us left; no one is going to help us. There was hope for the reckless Yang, but apparently, she isn't that reckless." A deep sigh followed. "Besides, it's almost lights out. Time to head back to the rooms."
"I guess." Egrer slumped his shoulders and grabbed the flag along with a few stacks of propaganda material. Soon, nothing and no one was left under the cherry tree.
They walked silently along the path toward the dorms, each lost in their own thoughts.
Nora was likely regretting the wasted time; her active nature rarely approved of such a pastime. Weiss was in an apathetic mood; she had hoped the union would help achieve her goals, but look how that turned out. Even Egrer had grown somber despite his natural optimism.
"What a failure." As they approached the front doors, Cardin's satisfied voice rang out from the second floor. He was looking down at them from his open room window, sarcastically clapping his hands. "But that was a good show. We were all dying laughing when you were lunging at every passerby with those leaflets."
"The union will get to you yet, you bully!" Nora shouted, shaking her fist at him. This caused nothing but a fit of laughter from above.
"Don't pay attention to him," Egrer said simply. He understood perfectly why Cardin decided to pick on them; they looked depressed, sad, and sluggish, which meant they looked weak. His scavenger instinct couldn't help but send a signal to the thing he had instead of a brain. "He's only saying that because the union is against him and his kind."
Cardin only laughed louder at their remarks. Fortunately, he didn't have time to say anything else because they went inside.
Egrer's already ruined mood dropped to a minus one on a ten-point scale. He had only felt this terrible when Yang trashed Junior's club, and that moment was forever on the list of the worst in his life.
"Goodnight," he said goodbye at the stairwell. Nora and Weiss went higher to the third floor, while he walked down the hallway of the second. Fate had decided that housing his team next to Team CRDL was a hilarious idea, despite there being vacancies on both the first and third floors.
I'll have to add a demand for self-selection of dorm placement to the union's program, Egrer thought, opening the door to his room.
His pack was already getting ready for bed. Yort, a mass of muscle, was looming over Illmond who was sitting on the bed, blocking his view and preventing him from peeking at Magenta while she changed. She was, as always, not shy at all, pulling off her school uniform and neatly hanging it on the bedrail.
"Madge, seriously, how many times have I told you—change in the bathroom." Egrer turned away and stood next to Yort, leaving their pathetic artist not even the smallest chance to see anything.
"Why?" she asked for the hundredth time since they met. "This is more convenient for me."
"Because a certain pervert is shamelessly taking advantage of your innocence," Yort answered.
"I'm not a pervert! And I'm not taking advantage of anything!" Illmond protested, glaring at their stomachs with a hateful gaze. It was like he was trying to see through them, but obviously, it wasn't working.
"I'm finished." Magenta put on her flower-patterned pajamas and flopped onto her bed. A cloud of slightly shimmering pollen immediately rose from her pillow, taking on truly otherworldly colors against the backdrop of the decorated wall with the "MAJESTY" brand.
"Madge, did you forget anything today?" Egrer asked hintingly, to which she shook her head. "What about the union?"
"What union?" Magenta asked without a hint of irony or anything of the sort. She had genuinely forgotten.
"Never mind." He waved it off and started changing too. One Nora was enough for him and Weiss; after all, if one half of the organization was constantly babysitting the other, when would they have time for great achievements? "By the way, tomorrow is a day off. Any plans?"
"Gonna pump iron at the club. And watch some TV," Yort answered immediately. He didn't bother with pajamas and went to bed in just his boxers. He affectionately patted his television, which was bolted to the wall right above his head, covering one of the two windows.
"I'm going to draw and..." Illmond paused to think, "watch some anime. A new season of High School of Angels XdX just came out. That's about it."
"I'm going to visit Ozpinopus! I'll feed him some fish." Magenta kicked her legs joyfully, as if imagining she was already running to his pond.
"How about going to a cafe? Jaune found a part-time job; we should go support him. His whole team will be there. We'll hang out, have some fun."
"Who's Jaune?"
"Come on, Yort, don't mess around." Egrer waved his hand. "You couldn't have forgotten him again."
"I have no idea who you're talking about." He looked serious and was actually straining his brain cells.
"Jaune Arc, natural blond, the only one in the whole land," Egrer sang, but there was no reaction. "You even played Cardin for his training sessions."
"Oh, that shrimp," Yort finally remembered, then shrugged. "Like I'm gonna go support that wimp. He can go screw himself."
"Fine, not like I expected much else. Ill," the pack leader turned to their pathetic artist, who had already rolled himself into a blanket cocoon and was on his Scroll, "you coming? You might make some friends; you can't just sit in one room all the time."
"I can. I'm not going anywhere," a disgruntled voice came from the cocoon.
"Madge, tell him." Egrer turned to their official leader, who not only could order everyone around but was also "Moe" and held great power specifically over Illmond.
"I permit him to stay home."
"That's not what you were supposed to say!"
"But you said a good leader-ess should respect her subordinates' wishes!" Magenta practically jumped at his unexpected shout.
"A good lead-er should prioritize their well-being first, even if it goes against their 'wants'! Admit it, there's nothing good about Ill being a shut-in."
"A-A-AH!" Magenta grabbed her hair. "This is so hard!"
"What did you expect?" Egrer answered loftily.
He barely restrained himself from praising her for remembering that conversation of theirs. If he praised Magenta, it would only give her confidence in her role as leader, and that couldn't be allowed. Otherwise, carrying out the coup would be much harder. Better for her to feel out of her element all the time.
"So, will you go to the cafe?"
"Yes." The girl calmed down instantly and smiled. "But before that, we visit Ozpinopus! We'll feed him fish, since he doesn't seem to like nuts, I think..." Egrer nodded; he didn't see any problem with that.
"And also... can I borrow a gas mask?"
"Of course!" And so it was decided. But Magenta wouldn't be Magenta if everything actually went according to plan.
***
Getting up the next morning and making his bed, Egrer noticed their leader had already fluttered off somewhere. Yort was still asleep, and Illmond had entered that specific period where he needed to lie in a strange pose and think about the eternal. So there was no one to ask where she had gone. A wave of anxiety about an approaching catastrophe washed over the leader; Magenta could not be left unsupervised!
First, Egrer called her Scroll, but she didn't answer. Second, he went to Ozpinopus pond, but she wasn't there. Finally, he peeked into the half-empty cafeteria, but—shocker—she wasn't there either. Only a few early birds watched the evolution of his panic with clear interest.
What is she planning? Where is she? Who's gonna get hurt? kept spinning in his head.
After wandering around the cafeteria and checking under tables for Magenta, Egrer ran into Ren, who was doing the exact same thing. From his look, it was clear he was asking similar questions and pursuing similar goals.
"Have you seen Nora?"
"Have you seen Madge?"
They asked simultaneously. Both their eyes widened as the realization of impending doom solidified in their minds.
Two crazy girls, whose antics made you want to tear your hair out, had gone missing at the same time. Two completely unhinged, insane girls who didn't recognize social norms and smashed every rule were currently wandering around somewhere unsupervised. And by the law of maximum irony, there was a near 100% chance they had actually met. Judging by Ren's pale face, the same logical chain had formed in his head.
Egrer knew this would happen sooner or later, as their teams crossed paths quite often. Plus, Magenta was friends with Jaune, and Jaune was friends with Nora. But he had hoped their first meeting would happen under the strict supervision of the more sane members of their teams.
An explosion echoed from outside.
"That's them." Without a word, both ran toward the sound, not hesitating to vault through an open window in the hallway. What they saw would have made any rational person freeze in horror, but they had already developed a certain immunity to their friends' crazy stunts.
Stunned fish were falling from the sky along with several tons of water. Nora had her arms spread wide, standing on her tiptoes to feel every drop of the rain she had created. The barrel of her grenade launcher was smoking slightly, and the small lake nearby was still churning. Nearby stood Magenta with a flamethrower, dousing the twitching fish with a stream of fire. Thank the Gods, she was only using Fire Dust and nothing else right now.
"Ozpinopus is going to be thrilled! Let's get to him, quick!" she said, inhaling the smell of fried fish.
"Stop right there!" Egrer shouted, grabbing and forcing the barrel of her flamethrower down. He yanked his hand back almost immediately because of the heat radiating from it. "What the hell are you two doing?!"
Ren ran to Nora, but acted more calmly. He was generally unshakeable.
"Nora, please don't do that again. Why did you blow up the lake?"
"Renny, lis-ten!" She grabbed him by the shoulders and started shaking him back and forth. "It turns out Madge has a pet octopus named Ozpinopus! Can you believe it?!"
The Mistralian raised an eyebrow and shot a glance at Egrer. Egrer nodded resignedly and, while Nora incoherently told Ren how cool it was, turned his attention back to his own headache.
"What were you thinking? Octopuses don't eat fried fish!" Wait, why was that the first thing I got mad about? There was literally an explosion here...
"But how come? It's so tasty!"
"Think about it, where are they going to find fire under the water?"
"Wet fire burns under water," Magenta noted importantly, as if that changed everything.
"Wet fire can't fry things; it just makes everything wetter! Not to mention that octopuses don't know how to use Dust," Egrer parried. "So don't argue with me! Ren, it's time to go. If we're lucky, no one saw these two psychos yet."
Ren nodded in agreement, and they dragged their female friends away. It was Saturday morning, and only early birds like them would be awake at this hour. Magenta was silent, thinking about Egrer's words, while Nora rambled non-stop about how they needed a cute pet too, like a tiger or a Death Stalker.
"Nora," Ren called softly, and the ginger girl went silent immediately, leaning forward.
"Yes, Renny?"
"That's up to Jaune. He's the leader." How masterfully he managed to dump that headache onto someone else! Egrer felt a twinge of envy.
"How do you deal with her?" he whispered.
"We've been together since childhood." That was all he said, but nothing else needed to be said. This fact explained a lot: how Ren skillfully handled Nora, and why he always looked so tired and indifferent to everything.
"Just not together-together!" A ginger head pushed between them. "We're just together."
"Yes," Ren nodded without any emotion on the subject.
"So I just lack experience," Egrer told himself. "I've only known Madge for about four months, though it feels like we've lived together our whole lives. And not in a good way, believe me."
"I understand you." These weren't just words of support; Ren truly understood him. He had truly lived through everything Egrer had, and even more. It was visible in his pink eyes, which for a moment seemed to glow brighter and more alive. He had definitely seen some serious shit...
"Gods, I'm so glad to meet a kindred spirit." A single tear rolled down Egrer's face. Ren was almost crying too; he put a hand on his brother-in-arms' shoulder.
"You won't be alone anymore. Neither will I." Both sniffled, filled with the deepest sense of solidarity in the world.
"Hey, girl!" Nora's voice came from behind. "Let's blow something else up later."
"Let's!"
Ren and Egrer weren't the only ones who found a kindred spirit that day.
***
Even though they had fled the crime scene, staying in Beacon was still too risky. Woken-up students were peeking out of windows or even heading outside, so it was time to get the hell out. Luckily, they were already planning to head to Vale, so the whole group hurried to the airpads.
Someone was already waiting for them there—a red-haired girl with glasses waved her hand at them.
"Um, Pyrrha?" Ren asked uncertainly.
"Didn't recognize me?"
"Whoa," Magenta was surprised, looking at her more closely, "you look like a different person."
She had dressed up as if she were filming a spy movie and preparing to infiltrate enemy lines: oversized glasses (though without lenses), a cap, a zipped-up summer jacket, and baggy pants. She had even tied her hair into two clumsy braids.
"Why are you dressed like that?" Nora asked, practically sniffing Pyrrha. It seemed she still wasn't sure if this was the same girl she lived with.
"I don't want to draw attention," Pyrrha said, blushing.
"Ah, I get it." But even with her outfit, if you looked closely, you could still guess the world-famous image of the four-time champion.
They hopped into a Bullhead where the pilot was already waiting. Flights were free, like most amenities at Beacon, so no one bothered with tickets or any kind of permits.
You don't have to pay for the Extranet here, and the CCTS tower is right nearby, providing services that are also free for students. Food, housing, utilities—everything is free! The only thing they don't provide is Dust, but the stipend covers that expense well enough. It was a fairy tale life; a shame it would end in just four years. Egrer would gladly live like this for the rest of his life.
Such generosity was necessary so that students could devote themselves entirely to self-improvement and studies without being distracted by daily chores, in order to become faithful protectors of the world in the future. This comfort was, you could say, compensation for a future life in a tent at the edge of the world or the constant threat of being eaten by Grimm.
Arriving at the Vale airport, they left Beacon's zone of influence and plunged into the world of mere mortals, where every step had to be paid for. As it turned out, bus tickets actually cost money, a fact that had somehow slipped their minds. Food at Jaune's cafe, by the way, also cost Lien, but Egrer wasn't going to eat there anyway. If he took off his gas mask, he would condemn himself to a painful death from sneezing, itching, and snot.
And there it stood before them—the cat cafe "Pas de Chat," along with a sign featuring a crossed-out horned head and the words "Faunus not served."
"Well, that sucks," Nora grumbled. "So they have cats there, but Cat Faunus, for example, can't go in?"
"I've never understood people like that," Pyrrha shook her head.
Egrer glared at the sign for half a second longer, then spat.
"Whatever. Let them try and guess I'm a Faunus."
"But we'd be breaking the law," Magenta noted.
"It's a bad law; it can be broken. I think the guys will support me." They nodded, though Pyrrha looked slightly confused.
"Magenta is a Faunus?" she asked in a tone as if she were afraid the very clarification might offend someone. Right, she didn't know about it, and neither did Ren or Nora.
"She's a butterfly," Egrer pointed to her multicolored hair. "That's her trait. I'm a Faunus too, by the way; I have a wolf's throat."
"I've seen him howl!" Nora perked up. "It was so coo-o-ol and natural!"
"Thanks. But because of it, I also have this raspy voice, so don't think I'm a smoker," he told Pyrrha, and she smiled shyly. It became obvious that was exactly what she had thought of him.
Egrer looked at Magenta, who was still fidgeting in place, drilling that cursed racist sign with her eyes. A ruthless internal struggle was clearly visible in her head.
"We're not going to do anything to anyone; we'll just sit, eat a few cupcakes, and pet the cats."
"Well, I don't know," she trailed off, fiddling with her flamethrower strap.
"Don't think of it as breaking the law," Ren said. It seemed he had figured out how to convince her. "Close your eyes."
"Okay." Magenta obediently squinted her eyes shut, after which Ren opened the door with one hand and gently pushed her back with the other. "Oh," she said, already inside.
"You didn't see anything," he said, following her in.
"I didn't see anything," Magenta repeated and started smiling. "Nothing at all."
Egrer watched this with wide eyes; he didn't even suspect you could do that. He was already preparing to transition to blackmail—saying they wouldn't go without her—but Ren had handled the problem much more diplomatically. That's what experience looks like!
Now that the problem was solved and nothing was holding them back, Egrer pulled on his gas mask and went inside last.
Inside, the cafe looked more like a restaurant, at least in terms of size and the expensiveness of the interior. A light-grey carpet covered the floor, and it felt somewhat awkward to soil it with shoes. Но since racists were in charge here, Egrer wiped his feet thoroughly. Very thoroughly.
Along the walls were numerous tables set a respectable distance apart, and in the center of the room rose small cat-house towers. There were about two dozen cats here of various breeds, colors, and sizes, and the mere sight of them made Egrer's throat and nose itch. He double-checked the seal on his gas mask and walked further, collecting surprised looks from the patrons. However, Magenta and Nora drew much more attention, as their weapons looked much more dangerous than a weird guy in a gas mask.
Everything here was designed for a peaceful, calm, and soft mood. There were no sharp corners; everything was fluffy and airy, and anywhere something soft could lie—something soft was definitely lying there. Ottomans, pillows, fluffy chairs, the same carpet.
Terrible, just imagine how the cleaner must struggle to get the fur out of here.
Egrer would have definitely soaked in this bright atmosphere if he didn't know they didn't want him here. Him and Magenta.
Sitting down on a sofa next to a huge ginger cat that Nora immediately started cuddling, they began studying the menu. There was nothing in it besides desserts and tea, but the variety was staggering.
Almost immediately, a widely smiling Jaune came out to them; he was clearly experiencing an unprecedented high from his first day of work and their visit.
"Hi! Pyrrha, if it weren't for the others, I wouldn't have recognized you." The champion gestured for him to shut up and not draw attention, but a couple of people had already turned to look at them. She quickly hid behind the menu, and Jaune didn't even notice. "Eg, were you serious about the gas mask?"
"Yeah, without this thing I won't last long here; I'll kick the bucket in about two minutes," he nodded, tapping the eyepiece. His already raspy voice became completely otherworldly and demonic, perfect for scaring random passersby.
"You could've just not come, I would've understood!" Egrer shrugged; he just hadn't quite understood Pyrrha's words back then. To him, they sounded like an order, so he hadn't even thought about blowing it off. "Anyway, what are you ordering? Sorry, I can't chat with you for long—the manager is watching."
"Is there meat here?" Magenta asked, throwing the menu aside in disappointment. Jaune shook his head. "Then I'll have this pastry; it looks like a chicken leg."
"I didn't think Madge was such a carnivore," Pyrrha was surprised, flipping through the menu right in front of her glasses. "I'll have a chocolate éclair, please."
"Uh-huh, got it." Jaune was writing in a notebook.
"Green tea," Ren requested. "And something with cream for her." Since Nora was in no condition to order for herself, he took charge of that.
"Coo-chi-coo-chi-coo, what a cutie," she continued to cuddle the ginger cat, which had completely surrendered to the power of her skillful fingers, "are you well-fed, sweetie? Want a belly rub?"
"Okay, I got everything. It'll be ready in a couple of minutes."
"Listen, Jaune," Egrer called before he left. "I don't want to bring things down, but are you aware this is a racist establishment? Faunus are barred from entry."
"Really?" He seemed genuinely shocked by the news.
"I figured you just missed the massive sign on the door. Why am I even surprised?"
"You're so absent-minded," a smiling Pyrrha finished him off.
"Alright, enough," Jaune pleaded. "Yeah, I can be a bit unobservant sometimes, but don't turn it into a comedy. Eg, if you want, I can find another job."
"Nah, don't bother if the pay is good. You think some sign is going to stop me?"
"Jaune!" A voice came from the register, where a man in a suit was standing. "I understand, but your friends aren't the only customers here."
"Crap, the manager came out. Okay guys, work doesn't wait." Jaune ran off, but the man, on the contrary, approached them.
Egrer recognized that look; it was the look of a person who has both the right and the desire to pick on someone. Whether from a bad temper or a sincere belief that his cause was right, such people were always a pain in the ass. Stopping near their table, he spent some time staring at the hammer and flamethrower leaning against the wall like an umbrella or a cane.
The manager was clearly trying to say something about it, but couldn't think of what exactly, since everything was perfectly legal. Huntsmen have every right to walk with their weapons even into a public pool, let alone a city hall. But he managed to find another reason to bother them.
"Why are you hiding your face?"
"I'm allergic to cats," Egrer replied seriously, "without the gas mask, I'll die. Well, or I won't die, but I'll definitely feel like hell."
"Really? And yet you came to a cat cafe." The manager wasn't convinced a single bit, though he definitely understood that Huntsmen were sitting in front of him. It was visible in their clothes, their posture, and especially their behavior. Not to mention the weapons.
"A friend of mine got a job here, so we all just came to support him." The others nodded in agreement.
"And yet, I would ask you to show your face. You see, this establishment follows strict standards, and Faunus are not allowed entry." At these words, Magenta covered her rainbow hair with the menu and fearfully pulled her head into her shoulders. "I must make sure you aren't hiding, for example, scales on your face or fangs."
"He's not a Faunus," Ren lied with a deadpan face.
"Yeah, I'm not a Faunus," Egrer confirmed, his stupid smile hidden by the gas mask.
"Even so. If you truly have an allergy to cats," he said with barely concealed sarcasm, "then we can step outside and you can take off your gas mask in the street."
"I'd love to, but I already have cat fur particles on me. If I take it off for even a second—that's it!" He waved his hands. "It would be pointless to even put it back on; the air inside it would already be poisoned."
Egrer only just realized this himself. As always, in his brilliant plan, he had overlooked one small detail that ruined everything. Now the gas mask would be on him all the way back to Beacon, where he would first have to send his clothes to the laundry, then go wash himself, and only after that would he be able to breathe safely without a filter.
"In that case, I would ask you to simply leave our establishment."
"On what grounds?" Egrer pulled out his Beacon student ID, but the manager was not at all impressed by his membership in the most famous Huntsman academy.
What kind of guy is this? Does he feel absolutely no respect for the future protectors of his ass? Although, city folk never truly felt the danger of the Grimm on their own skins. Before leaving the walls of Mistral for the first time, Egrer also considered Huntsmen some kind of jesters in funny costumes that the world could easily do without. He had never been more wrong.
"Don't think that being a Huntsman allows you to break the law."
"I'm not a Faunus, so I'm not breaking anything. Here's my ID, take a look."
"I'm not going to argue; I'll just call the police. In any case, a person hiding their face in a public place is suspicious enough. Especially in light of the increasing number of robberies lately."
"Wait," Pyrrha said, having hidden her face behind the menu until that moment. Now she didn't just show herself, but also took off her glasses and cap. "You can believe me, he really isn't a Faunus."
"Nikos..." the manager and a couple of patrons around them whispered. "Ahem, excuse me, it was too rude of me to intrude into the personal space of our guests like that."
"It really was," Egrer noted in a triumphant voice. "Oh, by the way! Can we rent Jaune for a little bit?"
"Of course," the man replied with barely concealed dissatisfaction, knowing full well that his reverence for the champion was now being shamelessly exploited. "I'll call him."
The manager left, and Egrer crossed his arms over his chest, feeling the pleasant sense of absolute victory. Having Pyrrha by your side was indeed convenient—no bullies, managers, or racists are scary; you can do whatever you want, and her popularity handles the consequences. However, Pyrrha herself was unhappy about being exploited so crudely.
"Please don't use my fame."
"Why?" He truly didn't understand. "If you can make your life a little easier with just a few words, why not?"
"Just... don't. In any case, it's my fame, and only I should decide how to use it."
"Alright, alright, whatever you say." Egrer immediately backed off, remembering how scary she was in anger. "But when I become world-famous, I'm going to use that opportunity to the fullest."
Pyrrha stretched her lips into an all-knowing smile that seemed to say, "Well, well, we'll see." It might be hard for her to use her reputation and popularity, but unlike her, Egrer certainly did not suffer from such a quality as modesty.
"You want to be famous?"
"Exactly! I have a talent for music and a band of reckless teenagers," he nodded toward Magenta, who was cuddling a ginger cat along with Nora, "we are simply destined for success."
"Destined, that's for sure," Pyrrha chuckled gloomily. It seemed this topic wasn't the most joyful for her. "So, how did you meet Jaune?"
"Well, it was about a month before the initiation. My pack and I were working as a live band in a nightclub."
"Live music in a nightclub?" asked Ren, on whose lap an energetic black cat was frolicking. He was playing with it using his own ponytail, moving it closer then pulling it away. "I'm not a regular at such establishments, but that seems strange to me."
"There's nothing strange about it; on the contrary, it's a great idea that I was the first in the world to come up with. Anyway, one day Jaune came to see us, one thing led to another, and we became friends. Just like that."
"I never would have thought he'd hang out in a place like that," Pyrrha said thoughtfully.
"He just decided to give it a try," Egrer lied shamelessly, not even trying to suppress a stupid smile. Life had become much easier with the gas mask; he even thought about a small change to his style. A cool mask would probably look pretty good with a suit.
"No, Eg, he needed some for-"
"Madge!" Egrer jumped up, nearly flipping the table, and covered Magenta's mouth. Then he came up with an excuse for his behavior on the fly. "This is a very embarrassing story, and we're not going to talk about it. As good friends, right, Madge?" She still didn't understand what she had said wrong, but she nodded. Egrer slowly removed his hand.
Pyrrha likely already knew that Jaune had forged documents. At the very least, she definitely knew he arrived at the initiation without an unlocked Aura, and that knowledge alone makes it clear something is fishy. But it was still up to Jaune to decide what to do with that secret; if he wanted to keep it hidden, that was his business; if he wanted to tell—fine, as long as he didn't say a word about the rest of them.
"Since I told you about Jaune," Egrer began, "you tell me how you met Ill."
"That was simple too. We were always pitted against each other in combat class, but we only started talking toward the end of the second year at Sanctum. And even then, it was by pure chance—his bus route changed, and he had to take mine." The champion taking a simple bus to school? Though she hadn't become a world-famous celebrity back then, even if she had the chance to ride in a gold-plated limousine, she would have preferred more modest transport. "After a while, we just started talking to pass the time."
"And what did you talk about?"
"About classes, news, discussed each other's fighting styles. Nothing serious." Pyrrha shrugged. Perhaps Egrer had been too hasty in assuming she knew Illmond better than he did.
"Was he always obsessed with the desire to be the best at everything?"
"Yes." The champion immediately looked sad and went quiet. Egrer watched her expectantly, and after a few seconds, she decided to continue. "Illmond couldn't get ahead of me no matter how hard he tried. And I always felt that he secretly hated me."
"Ill is kind," Magenta interjected. "He doesn't hate anyone, and if he doesn't like someone, he just avoids them. He didn't avoid you, did he?"
"Until a certain point, no..." She leaned back and bashfully looked away. Pyrrha didn't want to talk anymore, but Egrer vitally needed her advice.
"Pyrrha, I want to help him. I have no idea why Ill wants to be the best so badly, but it's obvious that this very desire broke him. I met him during a very difficult period for him, and usually, people don't act like living corpses. What was he like back then, at Sanctum?"
"He was... more alive? Now he seems to have lost the will to live."
He's actually doing alright now...
"What happened back then? What 'point' were you talking about?"
Pyrrha bit her lip; she seemed to feel guilty toward Illmond and didn't want to remember it. Sensitive Ren, sensing her distress, left, saying he needed to go to the bathroom, while Magenta and Nora weren't really listening anyway, busy playing with a cat. So, you could say they were left alone.
"Illmond decided to participate in the tournament. A year before that, I had taken first place, and he wanted to prove he was better by winning the next one. And he... Just don't tell anyone." Egrer nodded, leaning in closer. "My Semblance is Polarity."
She covered a spoon with her hand so that no patrons could see it bending by her will. Egrer's eyes went wide; with such an ability, she gained total power over almost any opponent. And Pyrrha understood this perfectly too, blaming herself for what had happened.
"At the decisive moment, I broke his weapon without even touching him. Unfair, I know. I rarely use my Semblance; it's only for extreme cases..." But Egrer was no longer listening to her excuses; he was lost in his own thoughts.
How many people did she beat like that? How many times was it an 'extreme case'? Are all her victories not the result of skill and exhausting training?
So many questions... If Illmond ever found out that Pyrrha could have beaten him at any second with just a wave of her hand, he would definitely try to jump off a bridge again.
And Pyrrha definitely could. It's hard to lose when you can change the trajectory of a bullet, a sword, and even the opponent themselves if they have metal jewelry or implants. You can't exactly fight her with toy weapons, can you?
How can someone even unlock a Semblance like that?
Could she have wanted to win so badly that her soul responded and gave her such an ability? In that case, she was a maximalist scarier than Illmond, because he still hadn't unlocked a Semblance capable of beating anyone with the power of thought.
And if Pyrrha had fought using only her own strength, would she have beaten Illmond?
Egrer understood that no one is going to go easy on an opponent just because they might get upset about losing. He understood it was a sport and the rules didn't forbid using a Semblance. He understood there was no one to be angry with, because there was no one to blame. He understood that Pyrrha hadn't even suspected how badly Illmond would be upset and what he would try to do to himself.
He understood, but he was still very angry.
Along with the weapon, Pyrrha had broken Illmond's life.
Almost literally...
"Thank you for the trust. And sorry for ruining the mood," Egrer finally said. The gas mask hid his face and distorted his voice, but Pyrrha understood what his clenched fists meant. He quickly hid his hands in his pockets.
Egrer had thought the information he gained would help him cure Illmond, but everything had become even more tangled. He had no idea how to purge this self-destructive maximalism from him, how to prove he didn't need to be the best at everything. That they loved him as he was: a quiet, fearful, unsociable shut-in pervert.
All his experience in communicating with difficult people failed in trying to understand such a lifestyle. Living for "Achievement hunting" sounded just as stupid as it looked in practice.
Egrer knew people who had inferiority complexes and that those very complexes ruined their lives. But for Illmond, everything was completely different—he climbed every peak not for a sense of self-importance or thinking he'd be noticed that way. No, it was just his only joy in life. Only by realizing he was the best did dopamine enter his brain, after which it was time to find a new dose. He seemed physically incapable of experiencing happiness through other methods.
At least that's what the words he said during the initiation and Egrer's own observations suggested. Come to think of it, Illmond could have been lying or omitting things, but most likely he didn't even know what was happening to him.
Furthermore, his reluctance to meet halfway, as well as his indifference to his life and condition, only made everything worse. Egrer had tried to help him many times over the two years they'd known each other, but only received an irritated hiss in response, saying that everything was fine with him.
Illmond had simply resigned himself. But Egrer hadn't.
And he was ready to help his friends even if they were against it. It was obvious to any outsider that the path Illmond was on would lead to nothing good, and to Egrer, it was doubly obvious. This meant that the duty to diagnose what was wrong with his friend and cure him fell onto his shoulders. And until then, he could work on smoothing the symptoms.
"Hi, Jaune!" Magenta suddenly shouted.
"Hi. I think we've said hi already." He sat down at the table, bringing their orders. "Can you believe it? The manager let me sit with you for half an hour! Such an understanding person."
Jaune's arrival marked the end of their hangout. For Pyrrha's fans, this was a signal for action; after all, if some blond guy dared to approach her and she didn't mind, then they could too. Caring neither for the queue nor for basic courtesy toward one another, almost everyone in the cafe rushed to the champion.
If they only wanted an autograph, it would have been over in just a few minutes. Но everyone wanted to take a selfie, ask something, and some were already calling their friends so they'd come too.
To Egrer, such behavior was astonishing. Were they really not afraid at all? They didn't even have Auras; if Nikos got angry, she could send them to the ICU with a concussion with just a flick of her finger.
But Pyrrha, with a polite smile, only said it was time for her to return to Beacon. The others had to leave too, as some paparazzi began pestering them as well. Jaune waved them goodbye with a smile.