Right after that conversation with Weiss, Egrer arrived at the port. Much earlier than planned, he hadn't even changed and just went in his school uniform. He wanted to get out of Beacon as quickly as possible and not see anyone for a while.
He perfectly understood that he was just postponing the inevitable and that he would soon have to return and face Weiss. He understood, but couldn't help himself. As always, he chickened out, preferring to shove this problem into the back of a drawer for the time being.
What conclusion would she come to? Egrer doubted he had managed to change Weiss's mind. It wasn't even about her stubbornness, but the fact that she had formed her point of view over many years. A rather large part of her life had been built on this foundation. One conversation wouldn't solve much here, but subsequent ones, most likely, simply wouldn't happen. It was highly unlikely Weiss would talk to a Faunus...
That's why he left. So he wouldn't have to see his own defeat.
Besides, today was the very day Torchwick was supposed to arrive here for the Dust. The moment Egrer had been waiting for with bated breath for a whole week. The reason he couldn't eat or sleep. You'd think he'd be anticipating it, but right now there was only emptiness in his soul.
He was tired of worrying. The events of the last few days had sucked him dry. Too much had happened right here and now to seriously worry about what had not yet come to pass.
Sometimes it even seemed like he could just wave this whole thing off, implicitly accept the collusion between Roman and the White Fang as a fact, and just live his life. The easy way out, which Egrer would have definitely chosen if the desire to prove the Malachite sisters wrong hadn't been so strong. Perhaps that was exactly what drove him.
Today the port reeked of fish and machine oil like never before. A cold autumn wind blew from the sea, and the smell of salt mixed with this nauseating aroma. Egrer grimaced; his olfactory receptors had gotten too soft in the clean, tidy gardens of Beacon... on top of that, seagulls were flying in the air, their vile cries causing almost physical pain to his musical ears.
Sea ships were a rare sight in the modern world. With the development of flying technology, maritime transport had almost entirely lost its purpose, given there were much more reliable and safer airships. They didn't fear the numerous underwater Grimm, which over hundreds of years of life could reach the size of a small island, plus they were much faster. But right now it was quite crowded here; work was underway.
Workers were unloading a massive cargo ship, lifting huge containers with cranes. A white snowflake, the symbol of the Schnee Dust Company, adorned every metal box, and each held a fortune. It was exactly for this cargo, according to the Malachites, that Torchwick and the White Fang would arrive.
Egrer had long since scoped out an excellent spot where he could safely observe all this. A tall building slightly off to the side, from the roof of which you could perfectly see the entire surrounding area.
However, upon climbing up there via a slightly rusted ladder, he encountered unforeseen circumstances. Very unforeseen ones, forcing him to re-evaluate his life priorities and promise himself to never again waste the precious time of his life on plans that would fail anyway. A lesson he really should have learned a long time ago, actually...
Egrer was literally ready for anything: an ambush, a sudden arrival of cops, even Torchwick already waiting for him right here. He had spent a week planning, for crying out loud, and now he didn't know what to do. So he just froze in place, thoughtfully scratching the back of his head.
Right at the edge of the roof lay Blake along with some blond guy, who had a long, equally blond tail sticking out of his tailbone. They were intently looking down and quietly discussing something, completely oblivious to him.
So what do you do in a situation like this? Say hi? Quietly leave and find another spot? Or drop a hint that a crowd of White Fang goons might drop by soon and they better scram? Or maybe just call Ruby and tell her the runaway has been found? He hadn't factored this plot twist into his plan.
But chance decided everything for him.
"Achoo!" Blake flipped onto her back with a backward spring, her blade transforming into a pistol and aiming right at him. And the blond only had time to turn around in surprise, startled, and half-rise. Egrer, of course, was used to this kind of reaction to his voice, but there was definitely something else at play here. "Uhm, hi, what are you guys doing here?"
"It's you?" the runaway breathed out in relief. "What are you doing here?"
"I asked first." Silence hung in the air. Three pairs of eyes looked at each other in confusion.
"We're on a date," blurted the tailed guy, shooting a side-eye at Blake. She nodded vigorously, so fast that the tips of her hair bounced all the way up to her bow. "Now you speak."
A stupid smile preemptively crawled onto Egrer's face. He scratched his cheek, started looking around, and then thoughtfully bit his finger. Nothing sensible came to mind. Slowly dragging out the vowels, he started saying the first thing that popped into his head:
"And I'm also... well, not on a date, of course... I'm just looking for a spot for a very important event. You guys fancied this port too?" Seemed like not a word of a lie. Seemed like it.
"Yes. It's romantic here. On this roof. And it'll become even more romantic when you leave," Blake answered clearly and deliberately.
At that moment, they started unloading giant containers with the SDC emblem from the second docked ship. The cranes started working again, people waved their arms, and some guy in a suit and hard hat walked around with a tablet, inspecting the cargo. This process captured their attention for a long time.
"Sooo," the blond drew out with a smile, "do us a solid and bounce, we claimed this spot first. I'm Sun, by the way."
He extended a tanned, muscular hand, and Egrer shook it on autopilot.
"U-uh... hi, Sun. I'm Egrer." He tried to find the right words, since he definitely wasn't planning on leaving. "And until what time are you guys gonna be sitting here?"
"Until evening. Late evening."
"Right... Can I sit here first? With my... girlfriend. She'll be here soon."
"But you're just looking for a spot. And you said yourself you're not on a date," Blake pointed out the inconsistencies, narrowing her golden eyes. Egrer's smile grew even dumber; only a serial killer or a clown could smile that wide.
"Well, we're looking together." Belatedly, he realized he'd spouted total bullshit, but he simply couldn't stop now. "I'm just doing recon, so I went on ahead."
"And who is your girlfriend?" she kept pressing. "Schnee?"
"What do you care? Stay out of my personal life," Egrer snapped. He absolutely didn't know how to make these two leave, so he just gave up. If White Fang goons and Torchwick really showed up here, the sweet couple would definitely have enough brains to bail. Probably. "Fine, I'll go find another roof."
"Wait. You really should get out of here."
"That's what I'm doing," he replied snarkily, scrambling down the ladder.
"No, leave the port!"
Egrer set foot on solid ground and looked up. Now this was where he absolutely refused to back down; otherwise, coming here would have been a complete waste. If needed, he'd just promise to leave, but actually hide somewhere. Or even start threatening Blake that he'd call her team and tell them where she was hiding.
"Whatever you guys are planning to do up there, I won't peek."
"It's not about that."
"Then what?" Blake and Sun exchanged glances for the umpteenth time, then ducked out of sight and started whispering about something. Out of curiosity, Egrer decided to wait and hear what conclusion they'd come to.
"Are you really looking for a date spot here?" Blake's head popped back up.
"And are you guys really planning a romantic dinner up there?"
He understood that she understood, and she understood that he understood. They both sighed with relief and joy that this awkward game of fools was finally over. Egrer climbed back up, and this time no one chased him away; on the contrary, Sun extended a hand to help him up.
Blake looked at him without hostility now, but with some sort of morbid curiosity. Like she was trying to figure out what he needed here. Egrer was doing pretty much the exact same thing.
He knew Blake had run away from Beacon, but he didn't know why she'd taken such a radical step. I mean, she just had an argument with Weiss and outed her race, which in itself isn't that big a deal. There's nothing there worth going on the run for. So he was also extremely curious.
"Say it at the same time?" Egrer suggested, feeling a tickle in his throat. Blake nodded.
"The White Fang / Tor-achoo!"
"Sorry, I can't control it," Egrer confessed, blowing his nose into a handkerchief. "Let's do that again, I didn't hear you."
Blake scowled in displeasure, thinking he was just mocking her. But she still agreed to repeat it; her curiosity was too great.
"The White Fang / Torchwick." After this confession, they again started looking at each other with distrust.
"So, you're here because of the White Fang?" Egrer asked, squinting. "And what do you want from them?"
"And you're here for Torchwick?" the runaway answered in the same tone. "Are you guys connected somehow?"
The staring match lasted a few more seconds, after which they silently turned toward the ships. Neither of them had even the slightest intention of sharing their secrets; they knew each other too poorly and additionally disliked one another. And frankly, you wouldn't tell even your best friends about something like this.
"Let's just not ask each other uncomfortable questions," Egrer suggested.
"I was about to suggest the same."
They sealed the deal with a handshake, and shortly after, the palm of his right hand began to itch. Along with that, he started sneezing—not too often at first, but the longer he sat next to Blake, the worse it got.
Suspicions that something fishy was going on were growing stronger in his brain.
Did she just hold a cat or something? Egrer thought, wiping his palm on his pants. His handkerchief was already soaked through, and putting something like that back in your pocket was just gross. Gods, I'm gonna die like this.
The allergies made it hard to think and tie the facts together, which was the only thing you could do on this roof. The sweet couple was whispering in the distance, his Scroll was almost dead, and Egrer hadn't brought a book or a magazine with him. Here was another glaring hole in his genius plan—he hadn't thought at all about how he would keep himself occupied while waiting.
If Torchwick found out (assuming, of course, that he actually was with the White Fang) about such "meticulous" preparation for spying on his own persona, and from his adoptive son no less, he would have buried him alive just to avoid the embarrassment. And he would've been somewhat right, too.
But despite the snot running from his nose, his itchy throat, and the periodic sneezing fits, Egrer tried to figure out what Blake was doing here. It wasn't going well, though the answer was absolutely floating somewhere on the surface. How did she even find out the White Fang was going to be here?
Eventually, the pair stopped whispering; apparently, they had discussed everything they wanted to. And then Sun, not wanting to sit in silence for hours, decided to badger Egrer.
"Are you really dating Schnee?"
This unexpected, stupid, and tactless question caught him completely off guard. Half sneezing, half coughing, Egrer thumped his fist against his chest a couple of times.
"Cough-cough, no, and I don't plan to."
"Phew, awesome. My buddy's just got a thing for her, it would've been awkward, heh-heh."
"A buddy of mine has a thing for her too, so it's gonna be awkward either way," he replied, recalling Jaune's unrequited and, let's be honest, doomed love. "Where are you from anyway? Don't remember seeing you at Beacon."
"Sailed in a couple of days ago with my team for Vytal. I'll be fighting in the Amity Colosseum for the honor of my school." Sun started flexing his muscles, but Egrer wasn't impressed. He lived in the same room with a real muscle-head, and he'd also seen Professor Shalibi. If there's anyone no one could out-flex, it's their PE teacher. "Also, I'm a Faunus."
"Uh-huh," Egrer said. "Cool. And?"
"So what were you badmouthing him for?" Sun suddenly said, turning to Blake. "Seems like a normal dude."
"He's just keeping a low profile," the runaway answered grimly, not even looking their way. "He'll show his racist views soon enough."
Egrer frowned. Something in her words was off, but his exhausted and tired mind couldn't figure out exactly what. Time passed, and he kept thinking and thinking, scratching his throat. After turning her words over in his head twice and sorting through every syllable she spoke, it suddenly dawned on him.
"Wait, hold up! You think I'm a racist?" She nodded, looking him defiantly in the eyes. Apparently, Blake hated Weiss and everyone she talked to so much that by default, they couldn't be any different from her. "But I'm a Faunus myself!"
Now it was her turn to ponder the wrongness of her conversation partner's words. But she managed to regain her ability to speak much faster.
"You're a Faunus and you're friends with that scum?!" Blake's surprise knew no bounds. "You... you're lying. Where is your trait?!"
"Blake, don't yell. They'll hear us," Sun chimed in. He placed a calming hand on her shoulder, but she didn't appreciate the gesture and shook it off.
"Wolf vocal cords." Egrer poked a finger at his throat. "Because of them I can howl like a wolf and talk like I have tuberculosis."
Blake didn't push him with a demand to demonstrate his howl; maybe she took his word for it. Instead, she started acting snarky again.
"I bet when Schnee finds out, she won't talk to you for the rest of your life."
"Actually, no," Egrer argued without much confidence. "Weiss isn't like that."
"Don't tell me you didn't hide your race from her. If she had known everything, she wouldn't have let you anywhere near her."
"I didn't hide it on purpose, it just turned out that way. Besides!" he added, beating Blake to the punch. "When I found out race was important to her, I just went ahead and told her everything."
"And what were you hoping for?" she asked, quieter now. "That she'd praise you for your honesty and then say, 'Well, I'll make an exception for you'?"
"Look, just shut up, okay! I feel like shit as it is, and now I've got you here! I don't know! I just did what a good friend is supposed to do."
Ever since that conversation, or rather its ending, Egrer had felt a strange tension. Like a thin, taut string between him and Weiss that could snap at any second from a careless word or even a look. And if it actually did happen, tying that invisible thread back together would be incredibly difficult, if not impossible.
He had felt something similar with Yort, back when the guy wanted to leave them for another team. All the time they spent in Vale, it kept him from living normally. After all, back then Egrer didn't just feel an impending loss, he knew perfectly well that it was a very possible end to their already strained friendship. And only when the Headmaster talked to Yort did that feeling vanish.
He had experienced the exact same feeling when he ran away from his family, but back then Egrer hadn't paid attention to it. He was too busy looking for money for food and shelter, trying to get used to living independently again after the well-fed years under Torchwick's wing. Moreover, he was overwhelmed by a bunch of other negative emotions to pay attention to regret over the severed bond with his father.
"Though how would you know what good friends do?" Egrer said, gathering his strength. "You didn't even give Yang and Ruby an explanation, and they're really worried. Just so you know, they support you, not Weiss."
It was as if Blake had been slapped. Her fighting spirit vanished instantly.
"I didn't want things to turn out like this. Did they tell you how it happened?"
"Madge told me," Egrer nodded. "You two acted like total idiots. Fighting over a board game, I mean, seriously~"
"Alright, that's enough," Sun cut in again. "You guys just started talking normally, and you wanna start shouting across half a block again?"
He was making sense, but pulling himself together was hard. How could Blake say things like that? Why did she hate Weiss so much? It gave the impression that the two of them were blood enemies.
"Did you really tell Weiss you're a Faunus?.." Blake asked, and Egrer nodded. "How did she react?"
"Normally, like a sane person."
"Pfft, really? Don't try to bullshit me. If that were the case, you would have already started ranting about what a fool I am and how she's actually a good person. Did you yourself even believe in a different outcome?"
"Nothing bad happened, she reacted normally," Egrer stubbornly insisted, and Blake raised an eyebrow, looking at his cracking face. He looked away, hiding his stupid smile. "And anyway, I see no reason why I should tell you anything."
"You had a fight," she stated. "Probably with screaming, maybe even a physical fight."
"Have you always been such a nasty bitch?" Egrer couldn't hold it in, turning to face her again. This time, instead of a stupid smile, his face showed a snarl. "Because if so, I genuinely feel sorry for Ruby. One Weiss is already too much for her."
"Are you saying we're alike?" Blake answered defiantly, rising slightly.
The tension was mounting and threatening to erupt into a brutal spat; both had been on edge for a long time. And it would have, had Sun not brazenly dropped right between them, pushing them apart.
"Let's not fight before an important mission! The White Fang goons and Torchwick are gonna crash here soon. We need to stay quiet, or we'll scare them off."
There were no more conversations. An oppressive silence accompanied them hour after hour as the ships unloaded, sailed away, and disappeared over the horizon. The shattered moon had already appeared, and the salty breeze from the sea grew stronger.
Sun tried a couple of times to get them talking, but both Blake and Egrer answered in monosyllables and didn't even try to help him in this endeavor. Each was lost in their own thoughts.
"Bullheads incoming," Blake suddenly said, pressing herself against the roof.
Egrer and Sun followed her example, even though they hadn't heard anything of the sort. But even so, for some reason there were no doubts—something was about to happen. It was already almost night, there was no one in the port, and if they acted fast, a sufficiently daring criminal could easily swipe a couple of Dust containers.
However, the White Fang didn't work like that; they openly robbed trains, shot down aircraft, and boarded ships. Such a scheme was atypical for them, just like all the recent robberies. It showed the signature of a much sleeker hand, but at the same time, it fell short of Torchwick's level.
Soon the roar of the engines reached their ears, and a few seconds later three Bullheads flew over the port. They had no intention of hiding; their searchlights brightly illuminated the ground, and fighters in identical gray uniforms with a red wolf's maw on their backs were already descending down ropes. Each wore a mask depicting a Grimm's face.
Honestly, what Egrer hated most about this organization was the fact that they used a wolf's head as their symbol. It cast a shadow on himself; it was shameful to have a connection with terrorists, even in such an innocent way.
"Is that them?" Sun asked Blake. She nodded. "Did you really doubt they were involved?"
"Terrorists are terrorists," Egrer said weightily. "If something can be stolen—they'll steal it."
"I know," Blake grumbled. "I've had enough of your girlfriend's lectures."
"My who?" he didn't understand, and then suspiciously drew out, "Magenta?.."
"Weiss, you idiot."
"What, did you lie to me?" Sun asked, dumbfounded. "So you are dating her?"
"Are you stupid?! How many times do I have to repeat that—"
"Quiet!" Blake hissed, grabbing both of them by the scruffs of their necks and yanking them down.
One of the Bullheads landed on the ground, and its ramps swung wide open. Stepping out, smoking a cigar, was Roman Torchwick in the flesh. The charming red-haired Casanova, over whom sighed the kind of women who dreamed of being kidnapped by a noble bad boy. A vibrant bang hid one eye, while the other was highlighted with black eyeliner, giving his gaze an incomparably mischievous gleam. And only a few knew that this was just one mask among many, and that underneath it hid a cunning and ruthless criminal.
In his trademark white suit, bowler hat, and holding an expensive cane, he stood out sharply against the gray White Fang goons. These three items were his symbols, what distinguished him from the rest of the mass of thieves in Remnant. And they cost more than the Dust container he was walking toward.
"Hey! It's not smoke break time yet, my loyal furry-and-horned minions, we've only just begun!"
Egrer rubbed his ears, eyes, and nose. He thought the allergies were giving him hallucinations, because what he was seeing couldn't possibly be real. Torchwick couldn't work with the White Fang. Couldn't, and that was that. It was just a masquerade serving another one of Roman's brilliant plans. Egrer simply couldn't grasp its meaning.
"We're currently sticking out like a sore thumb to the honest folks of Vale," Roman continued his performance. "So you better hurry up unless you want to end up in a cage."
"And there he is," Blake said with anger. "Of all people, Torchwick is definitely the main villain here."
"Hey! He would never work with the White Fang!"
"The White Fang would never work with a human! Especially one like him." She suddenly stood up. "They can't have any business with him. They just can't."
"Get back down, they'll see you." Blake ignored Sun and simply jumped down, landing soundlessly on the ground.
"Where are you going?" Egrer hissed, hanging halfway off the roof. "Psychopath! You're gonna get sliced into ribbons!"
Blake paid him no mind and started sneaking between the containers straight toward the obvious leader of the White Fang goons—toward Torchwick.
"What do we do?" Sun looked equally surprised. "She said we were only here for recon! Right, I'm going after her!"
"Where?!" Egrer watched another psycho land. Sometimes he felt like he was the most rational creature in all of Remnant, and that there wasn't a human, Faunus, or Grimm more sensible than him.
He didn't want to get involved any deeper, but the questions... He had a dozen questions for his adoptive father. And answers to them couldn't be found just by watching a crime unfold.
Why are you doing this? Is it worth it? Are there other options?
But unlike Blake, he wouldn't jump the gun for the sake of answers. Instead, Egrer would think things through carefully, keep a closer eye on the news, and maybe covertly observe him a couple more times. He needed to gather as much information as possible and only then draw conclusions.
Torchwick can't be working with the White Fang. It's definitely some kind of masquerade to deflect suspicion, he told himself for the umpteenth time. That's exactly it.
And he didn't even suspect that similar thoughts were currently spinning in Blake's head. She slipped like an invisible shadow between the busy White Fang goons and managed to sneak up right on Roman.
"Brothers and sisters, what are you doing with this human?!"
"My fucking life... How did it even come to this?.." Egrer took a deep breath and also jumped down. If he managed to find the right words, there was a chance to avoid a fight.
And the first thing he did was send a message to everyone he knew from Beacon, urging them to get to the port as quickly as possible. To add more weight to his words, he took a picture of the White Fang goons surrounding Blake and Torchwick. With evidence like that, they'd simply hijack a Bullhead and, ignoring all flight regulations, fly straight here in about ten minutes.
Just to be safe, he also tipped off the police, but he was absolutely certain Roman had already bought them off. He always operated that way, especially in Vale. Every important bigwig in the police department here knew him by sight, and for generous payoffs, they'd gladly turn the gaze of justice the other way.
"Sun," Egrer greeted the blond hiding by the tower crane. "Got a plan in case things go south?"
"Kick everyone's ass."
"Fucking brilliant plan. Roman alone would tear us all to shreds, and he's got backup dancers too."
"Then what do you suggest?"
"I've got an idea." Egrer thoughtfully scratched his chin. "When Blake gets kicked around a bit, we'll step out, and you'll have to play along with me."
"Is she definitely gonna get kicked around? Things seem to be going okay." He nodded toward Blake, who was giving a heartfelt speech to the fake White Fang members.
"Remember what you're fighting for! For easy money? For the interests of societal scum like him?" She pressed the blade of her sword tighter against Roman's neck, but he only rolled his eyes. He wasn't worried in the slightest and had everything under control. "No! You must fight for equality for the Faunus!"
With those words, she pulled the bow off her head, revealing a pair of small ears hidden underneath. The fake White Fang members started looking at each other, and some even lowered their weapons, feigning shock. Egrer's eyes bugged out too, because just the sight of those ears made snot run from his nose and his throat tickle.
"Don't tell me those are cat ears... And she seriously hid them under a fucking bow? This whole time?!" How much suddenly fell into place! So much that it was impossible to single out anything specific.
"If no one noticed for so long, then the disguise is spot on," Sun clapped him on the shoulder, clearly preparing to defend Blake's honor. "Why are you getting so worked up anyway?"
"Nothing. It's just I am literally allergic to Blake." Egrer smirked, trying to cheer himself up with such a simple method. It didn't really work.
While the fake White Fang members rather convincingly feigned cognitive dissonance at the fact that another Faunus dared to dispute their struggle, Torchwick began to speak.
"Lovely speech, kitty. It's a real shame they're so far from understanding the essence of class struggle. But you know, sheep and rams can't do anything without a shepherd, ha-ha!" Blake ignored his racist remark and turned back to the Faunus.
"Answer me! Why are you working with this scum?!"
"Watch your tongue, little girl," Roman smirked. "And don't expect an answer from them. Can't you see how ashamed they are of their own hypocrisy?"
"Then you'll answer me," Blake hissed, pressing the blade even harder. Torchwick's Aura flared at his neck, but even now, the vile smile didn't leave his face.
Egrer leaned forward; he was interested in finding out too.
"Well, what can I say, we just have common interests. You know, us scoundrels, we like to get together sometimes, grab a drink, pull off a profitable heist~"
"The White Fang can't have common interests with you!"
And that was the truth. They couldn't. No matter how hard Egrer strained his brain, not a single remotely sane reason for their alliance popped up. The longer he dug through his memory for all his knowledge about Roman, the more he became convinced that he would never tie himself to terrorists for any amount of money. A human thief cannot have anything in common with those who set their goal to destroy humanity.
But if this really was just a masquerade, then everything lost even the slightest bit of sense. If Torchwick was spotted with White Fang goons, disguised or not, it would inflict irreparable damage to his reputation anyway.
From the overload of thoughts, his head was splitting at the seams, and Egrer groaned, rubbing his temples. He understood nothing and wanted to find answers more than anything else in the world.
"This is all so surreal..."
"Why not?" Sun asked quietly. "Even Torchwick said that scoundrels get together sometimes."
"I don't give a damn what he said, it's just impossible, period."
Now Egrer understood Blake's feelings and why she had resorted to such a desperate act. This paradox demanded resolution, and if answers weren't found soon, sanity would drown in guesses, conspiracy theories, and mounting madness.
Perhaps if Blake hadn't been here and Egrer was sitting on that roof alone, he would have charged in instead of her. As it was, he just listened carefully and memorized the smallest details. It was necessary to sort out this bullshit, lay it all out alphabetically on shelves, and document it so that even the slightest doubts would be cast aside.
As much as he wanted to admit that this was all just a dream or an incredibly complex scheme of Roman's, everything pointed to the fact that this unnatural alliance was reality. But why did Torchwick let this happen in the first place?
When Egrer returned to Beacon, the first thing he would do was ask Yort about the probability of an alliance between Torchwick and the White Fang. Perhaps he should have done it the same day the Malachite sisters called, but back then he just wanted to see White Fang members without Roman, breathe a sigh of relief, be assured he was right, and go back to Beacon. He himself had given the probability of this event zero percent.
The sound of buzzing motors pulled him out of his thoughts. Two more Bullheads flew right into the port; they shifted their engines to a vertical position and began hovering menacingly over their heads.
Torchwick smiled, looking up. So that was why he was so calm, that was why he hadn't fought back and humored this pointless conversation. Roman had been waiting for reinforcements because he knew—Huntsmen don't go on missions alone. Except Blake would have gone exactly alone, if not for Sun and her chance encounter with Egrer.
Blake tilted her head to the sky too, which proved to be her mistake. Roman's cane fired right at her feet, and the explosion threw them apart. Torchwick himself got off with just some dirt on his back.
"We've had a lovely time, lady," he brushed off his shoulders and gave a hand signal to attack, "but it's time for us to wrap up."
"Plan is still the same," Egrer hissed quietly.
"I don't like it. Why should we wait for her to get beat up?"
"Because otherwise she'll rush right back into the fight as soon as we negotiate a deal with Torchwick."
"What makes you think we can even negotiate with him?" Sun was about to jump into the fray, but Egrer grabbed him by the tail and yanked him back. "OW! Ow-ow-ow!"
"Shut up and stay low. Roman will wreck you like kids, you idiot, we need to use our heads here!"
"Fuck you!" He twisted free and plunged into the ranks of the White Fang goons in a single bound, pulling his nunchucks from his belt.
The terrorists hadn't expected an attack from behind. Their flimsy Auras couldn't withstand even a couple of hits, shattering into colorful shards and then dissolving in the air. They dropped to the ground one by one, and only their sheer numbers posed any difficulty. And when the White Fang goons gathered into a single fist and started firing, Sun spun his nunchucks like propellers, deflecting the shots.
And when he got right up close to the enemy formation, he started shooting too; each of his nunchucks turned out to be a pair of small shotguns linked together.
"You're all idiots, don't you dare shoot!" Torchwick roared, waving his cane like a rapier. Blake barely managed to dodge his strikes. "There's Dust everywhere, you wanna die?!"
A White Fang goon, sent flying by Sun's hit, landed right in Egrer's hiding spot. The guy shook his head in a daze, trying to find his assault rifle, but only found another Huntsman. He didn't even have time to utter a word before he caught a rock to the head. His Aura flared at the point of impact, and Egrer beat him until it shattered in a shower of dark blue sparks. The terrorist went limp; he wasn't going to wake up from that anytime soon.
The former thief grumbled a short, profanity-laced tirade, running sideways. But not to attack or flee—rather to find a new hiding spot, since Sun's maneuver had blown his cover. Egrer nimbly dove through the open window of a truck and popped out on the other side, busting open the door to some guardhouse. No one heard the crash; everyone was too busy fighting.
Despite the simplicity of the plan, sitting and waiting while your comrades got beat up was tough. Even if Egrer couldn't really stand Blake, and was seeing Sun for the very first time, it still felt incredibly low. The only comforting thought was that Roman wouldn't kill anyone.
However, he couldn't be certain of even that anymore. Torchwick had already betrayed one of his principles by teaming up with the White Fang, and nothing stopped him from betraying a second. Especially since he had never suffered from excessive pity, so instead of killing them, he might just cripple them. So they wouldn't cause problems in the future.
Egrer bit his lip and carefully peeked outside.
The White Fang goons no longer dared to shoot while surrounded by Dust containers, so right now they were either getting punched in the face in close combat or already groaning on the ground with their Auras broken. Blake and Sun, emboldened by such a swift victory over Torchwick's henchmen, completely didn't expect that he alone could easily hold his own against both of them.
But Egrer knew for a fact that Roman constituted ninety-nine percent of all the combat power here. He wasn't just strong and cunning; he had never fought fair a day in his life. Nasty surprises popped out of his sleeves one after another, as if Torchwick were a magician.
A hidden pistol fired, engulfing Sun's face in thick blue-gray smoke. He started coughing and waving his arms, but almost immediately took a cane strike to the crotch so hard it launched him several meters into the air. Egrer felt a phantom pain in the exact same spot and even ducked back into hiding for a second. When Sun hit the ground again, all he could do was cough and groan in pain, clutching his groin.
Blake was left one-on-one with Roman and began to act much more cautiously. She tried to keep her distance to avoid falling for another one of his tricks, and attacked with quick hop-backs. Torchwick, conversely, relaxed.
"Why are you running from me? Here kitty-kitty-kitty!" He tossed his cane up and caught it by the tip, aiming the hooked handle at Blake. A muffled pop rang out, and the handle latched onto her leg. Blake didn't have enough Aura left to create a clone, and the thin steel cable instantly yanked her toward Roman.
Egrer angrily banged his head against the wall, cursed up a storm, and popped out of the guardhouse, straightening his jacket and slicked-back hair on the go. This was their first meeting in almost three years, so there was a valid reason for him to be nervous.
"Hey, Roman!" Egrer stepped unhurriedly out of the shadows, trying to hide his nervousness. He knew what his father would try to do—finish what he started a long time ago and give his runaway adoptive son a good spanking.
"Well, look who's here, another one!" Torchwick tossed Blake aside and twirled his cane. With a hollow clink, the steel tip hit the asphalt, and the criminal mastermind leaned on it casually. "I didn't think you'd have the guts to show your face to me. If only you knew how happy I am!"
"I didn't have the guts, circumstances forced me." He nodded at Blake and Sun, who took advantage of the pause and got closer to each other. "Listen, I already called Beacon and our guys are flying here. The place will be swarming with Huntsmen in about five minutes, so it's time for you to run. We won't get in your way."
"You just want to let him go?!" Blake fumed. "We need to stall him until help arrives! We can take him together."
"You two have almost no Aura left, what kind of fight are you even talking about?"
"That's why we should have attacked together right away! Instead of cowering on the sidelines!"
Roman paid no attention to their bickering. He ostentatiously took out a cigar and lit it, showing by his entire demeanor that he wasn't worried in the slightest. However, Egrer caught a fleeting glance he cast skyward, as if expecting Huntsmen to swoop in any second.
"My, aren't you brave," Torchwick smirked. "Standing before me, making threats. And anyway, why should I believe you? Normally Huntsmen don't have the brains to call for backup."
In response, Egrer just pointed at his face, which didn't have even a hint of a smile. But even that argument had no effect.
"Oh come on, let's just walk away. Why fight? I'm sure such a respected and busy thief has a million other things left to do."
"Don't try to flatter me." Torchwick exhaled smoke. "I'm pretty sure those two will pull some stunt. So I need a guarantee of my own safety. Say, a hostage. What do you say, kid? Will you do me the honor of letting me walk you by the hand to the Bullhead?"
Oh no, Egrer thought in a panic. He really wants to drag me to a secluded spot and gut me!
Such a fate wasn't appealing to the former thief at all. It was better to fight in the hope of holding out for help than to sign his own death warrant. At least this way there were better chances of surviving.
"I'm unworthy of an escort from Roman Torchwick himself."
"Does that mean 'no'? Though why am I surprised, you're future Huntsmen, being idiots is in your blood."
"Says the Ozpin cosplayer," Egrer nodded at his cane.
"Says the imitator of the incomparable Roman Torchwick," he pointed at his suit in response.
"You're not the only one who wears a jacket, but only two people in the world fight with a cane. And you're not the first." This dialogue brought up an unprecedented wave of nostalgia in Egrer's soul.
It was like they were sitting in some abandoned warehouse again, waiting to execute one of Roman's brilliant plans, and passing the time with their routine bickering. Like the good old days, which in reality weren't all that good.
Torchwick smirked and admitted defeat, raising his hands. Blake and Sun, not grasping the full depth of the situation, simply exchanged bewildered glances.
"Pack it up!" Roman yelled, tapping his cane. "You animals have three minutes to gather your shit and get onto the Bullheads! And in the meantime, we'll have a little one-on-one chat, squirt."
"I already said I'm unworthy," Egrer replied, glancing at Blake. It seemed she didn't plan on stopping the defeated White Fang goons from leaving, even though she shot them hateful glares. Sun was rubbing his crotch, and he definitely wouldn't start a new fight on his own volition.
"What's wrong?" Roman smirked. "Are you afraid to hug your beloved pop~"
"I agree to talk! I agree!"
This motherfucker really had the patience to play strangers for a long time. With a single sentence, he could easily ruin Egrer's life by just letting their connection slip "accidentally." And Egrer seriously doubted that Blake and Sun would be able to keep this secret for long; they might even purposely tell the Headmaster.
Torchwick didn't give a damn if someone found out, since Egrer never knew anything too important anyway, but Egrer himself might as well just put a bullet in his own head. Not only would he be immediately kicked out of Beacon and sent straight to jail, but most importantly—he could kiss his music career goodbye.
Sun and Blake stood at a distance, but they were still on guard and ready to fight. It was nice to know that if anything went down, they'd immediately come to his aid.
"So!" Roman said with feigned cheerfulness, puffing on his cigar. "Do you have anything to say to your beloved daddy?"
"You're the one who insisted on talking, you say what you wanted."
"What I say depends entirely on what you say right now," he continued, much more seriously. "Weeell?"
"I w-wouldn't say this is the best time to sort things out." Egrer took a small step back, not even trying to hide his fear.
"I see your brain has turned to mush in Beacon. I'm asking you what the hell you're doing here and why you're ruining my operation!"
"A-ah, so that's what it is..."
"But I'm also not opposed to talking about your betrayal, maybe some other time," Roman said, the moment Egrer relaxed slightly.
"Well, I wouldn't call it a betrayal. Kids fly the nest sooner or later, you know. Happens all the time."
"I gave you a roof, money, skills, even unlocked your Aura, and how did you repay me? With a tantrum and running away. That's what you get for helping orphans."
"Pfft, don't tell me you did it out of the goodness of your heart. Maybe you wanted to do a good deed, but you were still thinking about the profit first and foremost."
"An interesting stance, it allows you to completely ignore all my numerous virtues. Very convenient. I see you've already surpassed your beloved daddy in hypocrisy, that's grounds for congratulations," Roman nodded sarcastically, tipping his hat.
Egrer felt embarrassed and absentmindedly scratched the back of his head.
"You know I never wanted a... career like yours."
"You could never pull off a career like mine. Nobody could. But we're getting sidetracked. So, I'll repeat myself one last time—what are you doing here?"
"Fine, I'll tell you." Egrer took a deep breath, calming his frayed nerves. He didn't believe Roman would actually tell him anything, but he couldn't help but ask. "I'm here because some weird shit is going down. What's this circus with the White Fang? What's up with these idiotic robberies? Everything could have been pulled off much cleaner, and if I figured that out, you definitely would have. I won't believe you've gotten dumber over this time."
Roman's expression grew serious.
"Get this through your thick skull—a smart guy isn't the one shouting about how smart he is, it's the one who knows when to play the idiot." This piece of fatherly wisdom immediately found its place among many others.
"So, you're pretending?" Torchwick suddenly got close and grabbed Egrer by the lapels. Out of the corner of his eye, Egrer saw Blake and Sun start running over, but he stopped them with a hand gesture. "Stop! It's fine."
"Stay out of this, you hear me?" Roman breathed smoke. "Study at your Beacon, live your life, die on a mission, but stay out. You've already done too much; a little more, and you'll get noticed by people who will find it much easier to just get rid of you. Did you hear me?"
"I wish I could take your advice, but I can't until I figure everything out," Egrer replied honestly. "I can't just let this go."
Torchwick lifted him off the ground and replied with complete indifference:
"I won't go easy on you if you cross my path again. This was a one-time pass; next time you'll get a couple of stitches and broken bones. And don't even hope that Neo will stand up for you."
"Are you guys in that deep?"
"Eg, I'm telling you for the last time—stay out." Something resembling despair slipped into his voice. "For your own good. I know you're a master at running away, but you can't run from Her."
Egrer involuntarily broke out in a cold sweat; the sheer gravity of the situation was starting to dawn on him. If even Torchwick himself was scared, then this wasn't just serious, it was dead serious. Things like this had happened before; many had tried to subjugate Roman and his talents, but no one had succeeded. He had always been slyer, smarter, and a couple of steps ahead of everyone. Which meant the person who had finally managed to do it outclassed him in every single aspect.
And what would this person—more cruel, cunning, and intelligent—do when they found out that a robbery crucial to their plans had been thwarted? Egrer had drawn a target on his own back with his own hands.
Cowering in a corner—that was the exact decision he should make right now. Crawl as deep into a hole as possible and not make a sound. All his instincts, every habit, screamed for it. And Roman himself didn't doubt for a second that Egrer would do exactly that. After all, he always ran away from trouble.
But time changes everyone. Egrer wouldn't cowardly run away anymore, even if he really wanted to. He had become braver, learned new things.
One of the lessons Beacon had taught him was that running away doesn't solve the problem. And the problem was that his family needed help. Torchwick would never admit it, but he needed it. That's what all these idiotic robberies were about; he was trying to disrupt his enslaver's plan while appearing busy. That's why he was allied with the White Fang; he was simply forced into it.
But what could Egrer do? He wasn't smart or strong, you couldn't call him any kind of tactician or strategist. His skills were only good enough to get in the way of those who actually knew what to do. But sitting on his hands was impossible.
Besides, the target was already drawn. He had already left his mark on this case, and it was too late to retreat. If he did, he'd only delay the inevitable; it would happen anyway. So wasn't it better to just take the bull by the horns right away?
"I'm not going to run away."
"I seem to be having hearing problems." Roman ostentatiously turned his ear toward him. "Say that one more time."
"I'm not going to run away. Until I figure everything out, don't even hope for it. I... I want to help you."
"You've changed," Torchwick said a second later. It was as if he was seeing Egrer for the first time. "You've become just as much of an idiot as all Huntsmen. Infected with terminal heroism, huh? Fine, if you're that eager to die, so be it, I'll put some flowers on your grave."
Roman set him down on the ground and adjusted his cuffs. The White Fang goons had already gathered by the Bullheads and were waiting only for him. Before leaving, he said:
"The world is not a cheerful place, don't build any illusions. If you really want to go all the way, be prepared to pay for it. Watch your back more often."
This time it wasn't a threat, but advice.
Roman walked over to the Bullhead, and soon his small air fleet flew off toward the horizon. From the other side, Beacon's Bullhead was already visible; it would be here in about a minute.
Egrer was shaking and could barely stand straight. Even a light gust of wind could have knocked him to the ground. It was terrifying to realize, but his family had stepped in shit deeper than they ever had before.
Torchwick was working with the White Fang. The unbelievable scenario that had kept him from sleeping properly for days turned out to be the truth. What could life have done to an honest thief to make him stoop so low? How hard did someone have to squeeze Roman for him to play the fool and stage these circus-like robberies? If even one answer was found, it would already be an incredible leap forward.
If his father hadn't managed to wriggle his way out like he had a hundred times before, and even Neo couldn't eliminate the threat by force, then what could Egrer do? Based on everything, they had to have some sort of plan; they simply couldn't not have one. Torchwick would never accept the fate of a puppet.
But no matter what, Egrer was determined to figure everything out. Of course, he was terrified to get involved in this foul-smelling mess. He harbored no naive illusions—Roman really could easily send him to a hospital bed if he caught his eye next time. Not so much out of malice, but out of a desire to keep him out of this business for a long time.
"What was that?" Blake asked insistently. The moment she got close, the allergies flared up again. "You talked to Torchwick like you're old friends. What does that mean?"
"Doesn't mean anything."
"This could be important! If you know something about Torchwick, you have to tell us. Maybe then we'll understand better what's going on here."
"And you... A-achoo!" Egrer took a couple of steps back. "And you talked to the White Fang goons like you were one of them. Maybe you could share something interesting too? You're not the only one trying to figure out what happened."
She frowned, but couldn't find an answer. None of them hid the fact that they didn't trust each other.
"Let's just not ask each other uncomfortable questions," Blake suggested.
"Yeah, just like we agreed." He pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose. Snot was flowing from his nose in an uncontrollable river. "Ugh, Gods, does anyone have a gas mask or at least a medical mask? Blake, for the love of everything holy, wrap your ears back up."
Blake didn't answer; she stared intently at the approaching Bullhead.
"Doubt we'll get punished," Sun tried to reassure her. "On the contrary, we stopped a robbery for a crazy amount of money. They should give us a medal."
"I'm not afraid of being punished," she grumbled.
"Afraid to look your team in the eyes?" Egrer asked carefully. "Don't be, Ruby and Yang definitely don't hate you. And there shouldn't be any problems with Weiss either; we talked about it."
"What did you talk about?"
"About the White Fang, economics, and politics, touched on some personal stuff. A lot of things." He tried to cheer her up, although the feeling of a taut string still hadn't gone anywhere. "I can guarantee you only one thing—she now either hates us both or, on the contrary, accepted us for who we are. By the way, Blake, why do you hate Weiss? As I understand it, you had some problems right from the start."
"She was the one with problems. Do you think I didn't try to get to know her? I did. But she didn't show herself as anything other than a Schnee. A smug, selfish upstart who doesn't give a damn about the people around her and their problems..."
"And she's also hardworking, loyal to her duty, and happily helps those she considers friends," Egrer added. "Not to mention she has very pure goals. Just because you couldn't break through her natural prickly attitude doesn't mean she's just as bad on the inside. But I did break through, and I can swear on my mom that Weiss isn't even half the villain you imagined her to be. I'll repeat—why do you hate Weiss?"
"So the fact that she's racist isn't enough for you? You need other reasons?"
"First of all—she's not a racist. Second of all—you only found out about that very recently, but you've been bickering with her from the very beginning."
"I just instantly knew what kind of person she was. Doesn't take much brains for that."
"I doubt you're that observant."
Their conversation was interrupted by the roar of the arriving Bullhead's engines. But no sooner had it landed than the entire rosters of Teams RWBY, JNPR, and Majesty jumped out of it.
"Where's the brawl?! Whose ass are we kicking?!" yelled Yort, leaving a small crater in the ground with his landing. Looking around, he immediately started freaking out and swearing. "Motherfucker, we're late again! How long is this gonna keep happening!"
"Blake, are you okay?!" Ruby flew over to them, surrounded by rose petals. She tightly hugged her flustered teammate. "Don't ever run away like that again! Who cares if you're a Faunus, who cares if you're a criminal! It makes no difference to us."
"Ahem." Weiss cleared her throat.
"Well, not to all of us... Please, just don't run away!"