The Games We Play

Chapter 8: Mission Control

DISCLAIMER: This story is NOT MINE IN ANY WAY. That honor has gone to the beautiful bastard Ryugii. This has been pulled from his Spacebattle publishment. Anyway on with the show...errr read.

Mission Control

As I'd promised, I went to Tukson's Book Trade after school. Blake, one of the most powerful people I'd ever met especially near my own age, stood alone among the fantasy novels, nose in a book. She looked up as I entered, nodding at me slightly.

"Hello, Blake," I said as politely as I could. I was a bit irritated to be drawn back into this, but one didn't mouth off to people more than twenty levels above oneself. "Did I keep you waiting long?"

"Not really," She answered, placing a bookmark in the novel and closing it before moving towards me. "I wasn't certain when you'd arrive, so I came early. Hello, Jaune."

We were silent then, both having apparently run through our lists of casual conversation topics. Blake walked passed me and pressed a button, making its color shift from green to red, before closing and locking the door and making the windows opaque.

Well. That wasn't ominous.

I glanced above her head as she worked, checking her sign.

The Beauty

LV36

Blake Belladonna

Two levels already? It'd only been a week. But then, I suppose she probably saw a lot of violence as a high-leveled terrorist. I figured fighting multiple super droids was probably out of the ordinary even for her, but what did I know?

"What did you need, Blake?" I finally asked, going right for the point after the silence continued to linger. I figured we'd both appreciate getting down to business.

In reply, she tossed me something. I caught it reflexively before looking at it. Glancing up at her curiously, I opened it up and watched as images appeared and began to, well, scroll through the images even as the last remnants of my good day evaporated.

"Those are photos from a company town on Mantle," Blake stated evenly. "Do you know what a company town is?"

I nodded without saying a word but she continued anyway.

"All the businesses in the area are owned by the same company and they all accept company scrip, which is the only thing those employees are paid with."

"'Those employees,'" I repeated, though it was easy enough to guess.

"The Faunus," She said, mouth twisting. "Mantle's famous for its technology, but that's the type of thing that needs a lot of, preferably cheap, manpower. It's also not a place famous for its high opinion of Faunus. If you're known as one, there aren't a lot of places you can work, but the major companies will employ them…in a sense. In truth, it's more of a legalized form of slavery. They're given enough to get by, to survive and keep working, but they owe everything they have to the company and if they step out of line, they'll have it all taken away and find themselves out of the streets. What you're seeing is what a few of our people on Mantle have able to get about their living and working conditions and their general state of health."

I didn't reply until I'd finished flipping through the pictures, burnt all the images into my brain and made sure I would remember them. It was…

"Disgusting," I said. "Isn't this illegal?"

"Not on Mantle," Blake answered. "Or not enough that anyone truly cares. Even after the Faunus Right's Revolution…"

She shrugged.

"Things aren't perfect and are worse in some places then others. The White Fang has more traction on Vytal than Mantle and with travel between Kingdoms as it is…" She shook her head, exhaling through her nose. "My associates have been discussing how to take action against…this for several months and there's been a lot of talk about mobilizing a large response."

I closed the scroll and tossed it back to her.

"If you're waiting for me to try and defend that, you're gonna be waiting a long time," I told her. "What those people are doing is sick. But I hope you don't think that just burning the company to the ground is going to help anything."

"I know it won't," Blake said, shaking her head. "I've been one of the people arguing against it. Even if we destroy the entire town—something that would inevitably result in countless, meaningless deaths on both sides—it wouldn't help the Faunus employed there. The root of their problem, and the reason they can be exploited in such a way, is that they can't find work elsewhere. Unless we can solve that problem first, destroying the only places they can work isn't going to make their lives better, even if those places are horrible. A lot of the leadership agrees with me, but there's a demand for action and if an alternative can't be found…"

She shrugged again.

They'll do something stupid instead of doing nothing, I understood and nodded. In the long run, it might even help—if they could cause enough fear, if they could show enough power, and if, in doing so, they didn't ignite a massive response. But those were a lot of ifs and there would be a lot of deaths even if they managed it. In time, they might be able to scare people into employing the Faunus on reasonable terms, but that wasn't going to help the ones that would be left homeless and unemployed because of this.

Or maybe that was the idea? If there was a lot of anger and fear directed at the Faunus, it wouldn't take much for the Faunus to start giving some back. It could easily drive a lot of them into the arms of the White Fang, giving it the foothold it apparently lacked on Mantle and increasing their ranks majorly. That was a cold way of looking at it, but…if they took it far enough, there could be another war.

Then again, a coldly logical part of me said, if this was how the Faunus were treated even after the Rights Revolution, maybe they could use another war.

I hushed that part quickly.

"What do you want me to do about it?" I asked. It wasn't a rhetorical question; if she was here, she must have had an idea and I probably wasn't gonna like it.

"There…was one other idea proposed, a long time ago," Blake actually seemed hesitant, which sent off alarm bells in my head. "Mantle…I wouldn't say Faunus are treated great anywhere, but Mantle is by far the worst and the White Fang has assets on other continents to assist newcomers in settling in. The issue is the transition, but if we could get them into Vytal—"

I stopped her right there, putting the pieces abruptly coming together. The bottom dropped out of my stomach and I was already regretting…some many things, coming here the first and foremost.

"You…you want me to fly an airship," I paused for a moment, contemplating what would be needed for something like this. "You want me to fly an airship across the ocean, past who knows how many Grimm, invade a continent known for its advanced technology, perform a mass rescue operation, and then get back out of there, cross the ocean again, and get back here? Is that about right?"

After a long, still moment, Blake nodded, actually looking a little embarrassed.

"The White Fang has attempted to create a system to move Faunus between the Kingdoms several times, but always had to abandon the plan as unfeasible on a large scale—even the possibility has been discarded now and isn't brought up as an alternative anymore. The Grimm are too dangerous and, because of them, boarder control is too tight. With that and peaceful protest abandoned…I really think the leaders are going to push things until there's another war. There are already plans being made for an attack and I…" She shook her head. "I want to avoid that. I think we can avoid that, but we'd need to prove a point here and now that other ways are possible. But it would require something big. Something like this."

"Assuming, of course, that this ludicrous plan is possible," I said. "I mean, do you even have an airship?"

"We'd need to steal the airship," She admitted. "The White Fang doesn't have any that are big or fast enough for something of this magnitude."

"Oh, right, sorry—that makes sense," I nodded and corrected myself. "You want me to do all of that with a stolen airship, ensuring people will be chasing from the very beginning, meaning I'll have to escape the country and get back into it, after committing a crime that would make me an enormously wanted criminal if I got caught. Anything else?"

"There are only a few airships that are big enough and fast enough to make such a trip and airships in general are equipped with a number of systems to prevent them from being stolen," She added. "Which means acquiring one will be…hard and the moment we have one, we'll need to go. And the chances to steal a major Airship before it's under heavy security are…limited. The only chance I can be sure we'll have before the White Fang takes action is in less than two weeks."

"And a time limit for preparation, because who doesn't love a challenge?" I muttered before lifting my voice. "I have just one question. Well, no, that's a horrible lie—I have about a million questions, but I'm gonna start with this one: Why me? Why am I the person you're going to about this? Ignoring everything wrong with the idea, of which there is a great deal, why do you want to recruit a human you met once to go along with this ludicrously dangerous idea? I mean, let's assume for just a second that I agree to this. You would be trusting me with your life and the lives of everyone involved with this mission. So, again, why me?"

Blake seemed to have been waiting for that question.

"Several reasons," She said, lifting a hand in preparation to tick off her fingers. "The first is simply necessity. If this mission is to have any chance of working, I need someone who can learn to fly a vehicle they've never encountered before, figure out its exact specifications with no experience beforehand, become skilled enough at programming to deal with any measures already on it, use it to outrun the military, and do all of that in a very short period of time. Otherwise, the plan won't work."

"That's because the majority of your plan is 'Hope a miracle happens,'" I informed her.

She ignored me.

"Secondly, your ability to heal others and to regain your own power quickly makes you invaluable for…pretty much any mission. In that particular regard, your own personal power is only a minor consideration—rather, your presence serves as an enormous force multiplier. Adam and I could not do such a task alone, but if we were restored to full power anytime we began to weaken…" She let that statement hang in the air. "But the third reason is the most important."

"Oh?"

"I'm asking you because I think you might say yes," Blake said solemnly. "I can't say I know you, but a week ago, you got involved and risked your lives to help people you didn't even know, simply because they were in danger and you could help them. I think you're good man—I'm not amazed by your sense of self-preservation, but I think you have a good heart. I need to save these people and I need to try and stop the White Fang from going any further down this path. Will you help me?"

I put a hand over my eyes and sighed loudly, turning away from her as I rubbed my face. When I looked up, I was unsurprised to find a blue screen hanging in the air, but I still glowered at it.

A quest has been created!

A Friend In Need: Help Blake with her insane mission!

Reach the Faunus on Mantle and then escort them to freedom! Time Limit: Two weeks.

Completion Reward: Exp 550000, Increased closeness with the Faunus of Mantle, Increased closeness with the Faunus of Vale, Increased closeness with the White Fang, Increased closeness with the Blake.

Failure: Decreased closeness with Blake, Imprisonment, or Death*.

*Depending on time of failure.

Don't even try to tempt me with your sexy, sexy numbers, I thought, even as I counted all the shapely zeroes. I knew full well that if the reward was that high, getting it would mean terror and pain. I'd known that last time, too, granted, and it had turned out surprisingly well in the end, but the reward for this one was nearly ten times that one. If that said anything about the danger involved, well, I could only imagine. But this time—

I sighed deeply.

"There's too many ifs involved," I said. "Maybe we can get the ship and maybe I can fly it and maybe I can escape and maybe I get us there in one piece and maybe I can get us back—but those are all really big maybes."

"Believe it or not, I actually have a plan, though a lot of details need to be hammered out," Blake said dryly. "Though none of it matters without your help and I'm not going to hurt you if you want to back out. But we can do this. You might not even need to fight."

I thought there was pretty much no chance in hell of that being true, but maybe I was just getting cynical. Still, being in a party with people of Adam and Blake's levels was…

Still not enough to make this sound like a good idea.

"And stealing an airship…that's a major, major crime, especially on the type of scale you're talking about. Who would we even be stealing it from? The military? Because that would be an unspeakably bad idea without even getting into the amount of people we'd piss off afterwards. I mean—"

"Schnee," She interrupted me.

I looked over my shoulder at her in disbelief.

"You mean…"

"The airship is being produced by the Schnee Dust Company," Blake said. "The same company who owns the town on Mantle. They'll be showing off their newest model in Vale soon at a conference."

Wow, this plan was just getting better and better.

"Poetic justice aside, you…do realize we'd be pissing off one of the most powerful groups in the world, right?"

"The Schnee Dust Company and the White Fang have been at each other's throats for years," She dismissed. "This won't make a difference on that front."

"Not for you, maybe," I said, turning to face her fully. "But what about me? Even if we succeed, if anyone sees my face…"

Blake reached down to grab the bag at her feet and threw it to me.

"What's this?" I questioned, looking down at it. It was heavier then it looked.

"I just told you, I'm not stupid," Blake said, giving me a flat look that made me think it was wise not to argue.

Hesitating for a moment, I opened the bag with a sigh. On top were a few small cases, a large box, and…

I took out the mask. It was a lot like Adam's, though the designs were a bit different and in black instead of red.

"Um…"

"It's one of Adam's old ones," She said. "But it should fit you, too."

"…Yeah," I said, drawing the word out. "No offense but I don't think hiding my upper face is going to protect me for long when I find myself on every TV station from here to Atlas."

She rolled her eyes and made a rolling gesture with one hand and I took the items out of the bag one by one. After I took out the box, I found myself looking at the back cover of a book and reached in to remove it—

You obtained the skill book 'Makeup for the Menagerie.' Would you like to learn this skill?

…Wait. What?

You obtained the skill book 'Making Faces: How to be a Makeup Artist.' Would you like to learn this skill?

You obtained the skill book 'Windows to the Soul: A Thousand Designs for Beautiful Eyes.' Would you like to learn this skill?

You obtained the skill book 'The Fairest of Them All.' Would you like to learn this skill?

You obtained the skill book 'Let Down Your Hair.' Would you like to learn this skill?

I looked up at Blake silently and then turned to the box. I opened it. Then I raised it, unfolded it, separated it, and stacked it. It was a makeup kit—a real, professional one which had so much stuff inside of it, the box must have contained a pocket dimension. There were about fifty million different pieces—for my skin, my eyes, my hair, my lips, my nails, and who knows what else. It featured about a thousand colors I hadn't known had names and implements which may have doubled for use in torture. The cases that came with it contained what looked almost like slides, with about four dozen colored contact lens in them. Looking at it all was both intimidating and terrifying. I didn't touch it—it was complex enough that there may have been a self-destruct.

"This is the basic kit," Blake said, which made me look at her again. "I brought more, in case we need it. I only know the basics, but it should be fine with your power."

She stepped towards me and grabbed my chin with one hand, turning it one way and then the other, staring at me like I was a specimen on a slab.

"Didn't think so," She said, before elaborating. "No identifying marks. You're lucky; that makes this easier."

"Um," I started to say before her index finger and thumb forced my lips apart and she stared at my teeth analytically.

"You have good teeth, too. Alter the lines of your face with the mask, change your eyes, maybe shift your skin tone…we'll need to do something to your hair, of course, and we'll need to change your wardrobe, but…do you have any birthmarks?" She asked, freeing my lips.

"No, but—"

"Scars? Tattoos?" She continued.

"No!" I said, pushing myself to my feet. "But wait a second, will you? I haven't agreed to anything yet."

Blake looked me up and down even as her hands busied themselves putting away the makeup kit.

"You want to help," She stated. "You're scared, but you really, really do."

"Of course I want to help, but the odds of this plan working…" I shook my head in irritation. "We, you, aren't going to help anyone by getting killed. If I thought it could work, maybe it'd be different, but…this is…"

Blake nodded.

"I know. Adam said the same thing and I agree," She stated. "And until last week, I'd never have even considered the idea. But it is possible. Or haven't you realized…?"

She turned and began to walk towards the back of Tukson's shop. Before she passed through the curtain, she paused and looked over her shoulder at me.

"Oh, that's right; you've never seen Tukson's private collection before, have you?" She mused. "He keeps all his best books in the back."

I stared after her for a moment. This was the part where I should walk away. I hadn't agreed to anything yet and wasn't going to; I should just click no on the quest screen, walk out the door, and never turn back. This was insane and there was no point even discussing it further, much less in giving Blake a chance to try and make me go along with it. There was nothing but trouble behind that curtain, even if I knew Blake wouldn't force me into this. That was the smart thing to do, the wise thing to do, and I knew it.

But…

I swore and followed after.

If only Greed wasn't my sin.

And if only she wasn't right about me wanting to help.

Tukson's backroom was like a dream come true. One of my dreams, specifically. There were boxes on the ground, some of them open, all of them filled with books. There were several rows of shelves, all of them taller than the ones up front but spaced far enough apart to move through comfortably, and the back wall had apparently been fake because it slide up to reveal a hidden shelf in the hollow space behind it. There were books of every shape and size, scrawled with more languages and scripts then I could count, and ripe for the picking.

I whistled quietly.

"Impressive, huh?" Tukson asked, smiling at me even as he moved between the shelves, drawing out a book every now and then. "Not a lot of people appreciate a collection like this—but I guess if anyone would, it'd be you."

"I told Tukson about your Semblance, in case anything like this happened. He's been sorting through his collection lately, making copies." Blake said and I shrugged, not really surprised or upset or anything. "As for the others…there have been questions, but considering what you had to go through to help us, Adam and I have been deflecting attention as much as possible. I'll let you decide what to tell them later, but I'll probably have to explain things to Adam."

"If I even agree to help," I answered distractedly, moving in the direction of the shelves. Blake caught my hand before I could go and dragged me too one side, where a full length mirror was set on the wall beside a desk. Blake took a length of yellow measuring tape from atop the later and then positioned me in front of the mirror.

"Tukson's getting stuff for you now and you can look through the rest later," She said. "First things first. You can't very well run around in the same clothes you wear normally, can you?"

"Um," I asked awkwardly as she started measuring me. "Is this really necessary? I mean, if I did decide to go along with this, I could just grab a shirt anywhere."

"The clothes make the man," Blake answered. "You'd be amazed how different a change in wardrobe can make you look. You for instance…this is what you normally wear, correct?"

I glanced down at my hoodie and jeans and crossed my arms over them defensively.

"Yeah, so?" I replied, not mentioning that my mom had had them tailor made for me.

"Your shirt's a bit baggie," She answered, grabbing it with two fingers, seeming to talk more to herself then me. "The materials rather thick, too. That's good for us; it hides a lot of your build. We could either hide even more of it, try to change the shape of your body, but it could make fighting a bit harder. Or…perhaps the opposite? A change in style…something more formfitting, then?"

"If this is heading towards spandex, tell me now so I can leave. I'd rather wear a fake mustache and use an awful acsent."

She rolled her eyes as she finished with the measurements and stepped back. She pondered me for a moment before nodding her head and speaking.

"Take your shirt off."

"Um," I answered her words with the razor edge of my wit. "What?"

Blake looked at me and exhaled impatiently.

After an awkward pause, I followed her commands and took my hoodie off before her eyes—and let me just say, though I've had fantasies which involved getting undressed in front of a beautiful woman, they generally involved her looking less…bored. A raised eyebrow was all I got out of Blake as she looked me up and down, frowned slightly, and then stepped close to me with a length of measuring tape. She checked me around the waist, stomach, chest, shoulders, arms, and a few other places before nodding to herself and scrawling my measurements in a notebook.

"Something you need to remember about Hunters—and people like them, such as you and I—is that they tend to stand out, partially by design," She said, sounding like a teacher that was barely paying attention. "Unique outfits, unique weapons…there are many reasons for it, the most import being that we want to draw attention. People who are shooting at us aren't shooting at the people we're trying to protect and our allies can easily pick us out of a crowd. Whether we're fighting against each other or against the Grimm, both of those things are important. However, one of the other reasons is because it's so hard for us to blend in, especially if forced into combat. I can fade from sight in when I need to, but there are only so many people who use Variant Ballistic Chain Scythes. It kind of gives me away, even without getting into my Semblance—and if I refrain from using either, that costs me a lot."

I mouthed the words 'Variant Ballistic Chain Scythe' to myself, having not realized that was a thing until now, but nodded at the point.

"But you're different—or rather, your Semblance makes you different. The thing about disguises is that they come in many forms depending on what you seek to accomplish—but the best ones come in layers," She stated, already drawing in her notebook. "A wardrobe change, a mask, and some well applied makeup are all good places to start, but alone may not be enough. Those of us with Aura usually don't have to worry about most types of biological evidence, thankfully, but there are other things that can give you away. Your weapon, for one, but even how you fight and act, and those can be harder to change. Luckily, it shouldn't be much of a problem for you. You use a sword normally, right?"

"Sword and shield," I answered, wondering if I could put my shirt back on. "It's a family heirloom, but I've gotten used to it."

Tukson dropped a small stack of book on the desk while Blake hummed.

"I would recommend avoiding both of those, then. For people like us, suppressing instinctive reactions and ingrained training is the hardest part," Blake continued, still drawing. "Most people won't notice the specifics, but if another Hunter is nearby, they might recognize you by the way you fight if they see you again later. Do you have a preference for what type of weapon you'd like to learn to use? I'd recommend guns, of course, but you'll need to be careful; Dust residues can themselves give you away and you'd be amazed how much they can get from that stuff if you don't have time to go through the proper channels. Still, it's more than worth it to give you several books on the subject. You'll want a close range option, too, though. A spear, maybe? We don't have the time or resources to manufacture anything special, but that should be doable."

I shifted uncomfortably, enjoying this less and less by the second. I didn't like the idea of switching weapons, even if I understood the intent, both because I wasn't keen about abandoning the bonuses I got from Sword and Shield Mastery and also because I'd already come to terms with making my great-great-grandfathers weapon my own. But…

I remembered what I'd thought about before. Just in case, it would be good to have a ranged option and…

"Do you have anything about unarmed fighting?" I asked. "Martial arts or boxing or something I can use with my bare hands? I've been meaning to work on that, but…"

Blake paused in her drawing and looked up at me and then turned to meet eyes with Tukson. It felt as if I were being excluded from a conversation.

"You think he can do it?" Tukson wondered after a second.

"I've no doubt about he's ability to learn it," Blake stated. "I'd have questioned his ability to use it properly, but he's more muscular than I'd have thought."

"I've been working out," I told them, flexing one arm.

Everyone ignored me.

"If anyone did recognize it, it would help cement his image as a Faunus…" Tukson mused before sighing and nodding. I glanced at him as he shoved the stack of books over to make more room before going back to the shelves.

"Mind filling me in?" I asked Blake.

"He's getting you what you wanted," She stated vaguely, frowning at me before raising a thumb center with my chest and closing one eyes. "If the clothes make then man then…"

She nodded, flipped a page in her notebook, and started drawing again, only pausing when Tukson returned.

"Tiger, you think?" She asked, nodding at me.

Tukson blinked before looking at me.

"Kind of cliché, but…fitting, I suppose," Tukson shrugged. "It could work, I guess. You said his Aura was white?"

Blake nodded.

"Jaune, how much time do you spend shirtless?" Blake asked me seriously, turning back to me.

"Uh," I replied. "What?"

"How much time do you spend shirtless?" She asked again, voice and expression both annoyed. It was nice to know I was the only one embarrassed about any of this. "In public, that is."

"I…none?" I tried. "Unless I'm swimming or something and I don't do that much anymore."

She narrowed her eyes again before nodding.

"It could work," She said. "Layers and padding are usually preferable, but it's something people wouldn't normally associate with or expect from you and it could allow for false identifying marks to help throw people off. Give you the mask, do something with your hair, lips, skin—something distinctive, to draw attention. Strips, perhaps, or a tattoo, so that if people do see you shirtless, they won't make the connection. If you fight with your hands instead of a sword and play to the martial arts stereotype instead of the knight…it could work."

I squinted at her.

"You…you want me to fight shirtless?" I asked incredulously.

"You say it as if the armor you wore before would have protected you from anything without your Aura," Blake said frankly, making me wince. "You can wear a shirt instead, if you want, but remember that we're trying to sell an image here. As long as you find something that fits, it's fine. You want to look the part of the martial artist and the Faunus. Play it up as much as possible and it'll be harder to connect it to you. A lot of the White Fang has embraced such stereotypes, regardless. I was thinking something relatively subtle; a stripe across each cheek, a few across the shoulders and arms, some altered lines on the chest, a meaningless trinket or two for people to remember. Yellow eyes like mine, perhaps. We'll focus on your hair, though, change the style, change the color—something to stand out. Multiple colors? We could continue the tiger theme and with Adam there, it wouldn't even look too strange."

"I…" I shook my head and abandoned that ship, focusing instead on Tukson. "What do you have for me, Tukson?"

"A classic," He said with a sigh. Probably because I was gonna eat it. "From quite a ways before Menagerie. You've heard about the four Beast Kings, right?"

"Weren't there five?" I asked, furrowing my brows.

Tukson waggled a hand.

"Depends on who you listen too, but going by what few scripts remain, there were originally four and it's believed the fifth was someone's personal addition to the story—hence how he was actually the king of them all, the golden lord of Faunus-kind, a better fighter then any of the others, and also strong and wise. But on the other hand, we thought the same about Nicholas the Toymaker and it turned out he was real, so who knows? It's hard to tell when it comes to stuff that far before the War, because life before Dust was…"

Tukson shrugged one shoulder.

"Well, you can probably imagine. With the presence of the Grimm and without Dust, things were a lot harder—often times in ways a lot of people don't think about anymore. Without the convenience of energy propellant and with the Grimm everywhere, it was far more difficult to extract, smelt, and forge metals and we couldn't do it with metals as good as we use today; depending on the time and location, some places would be lucky if they could use iron and even they might not be able to extract it consistently when the Grimm could rampage through town any day. And we're talking just basic weapons, because we didn't have the technology to make everything with a gun built into it. Or guns as we know them today, even. But while we didn't have Dust, we still had Aura and because of that, we could make our fists as strong as anything we could make."

I nodded getting it.

"And it was easier than making weapons," I guessed. "Lots of martial arts, then?"

"Quite a few," Tukson nodded. "If you ever wondered about all those martial arts films set before the War, they're partially rooted in fact, it was just…usually not as the movies depicted. Anyway, at the time there were lots of different groups and schools and such, but over time, several stood out among the rest as they grew and developed followings that could defend greater areas. Among the Faunus, these were the Beast Kings Meng Zhang, Ling Guang, Jian Bing, and Zhi Ming. Or…those might have been their names, at least; the best records we have are from Haven, so it might have just been the names they were known by there. It's also why Jian Bing's, better known as Bai Hu, martial art is the most complete of those that remain."

"What happened to the others?" I asked.

"There's a reason we call this world Remnant," Tukson answered simply. "And after the discovery of Dust and the resulting industrialization, we had better options—especially once we learnt how to fashion Dust into bullets and create better weaponry. As it became far easier to train people in other forms of combat and just as or more effective, Martial Arts faded from prominence during and after the War. There were the occasional upswings and there are always a few schools with popularity, but it takes less time to learn to use a gun then to learn to focus your Aura in specific ways…well, for everyone but you, I suppose. I spent some time in Haven researching it after the Rights Revolution, luckily, and these are the copies I made of the tablets in Bai Hu's temple. I never got around to translating it all and a lot of it was clear as mud, but…Blake tells me that won't be a problem for you."

I took the first in the stack from him, curious.

You obtained the skill book 'White Tiger's Tread.' Would you like to learn this skill?

I clicked yes and the book glowed brightly, fragmenting as knowledge filled me. I took a deep breath and then exhaled, looking at Tukson who stared at me in undisguised interest and then at the window that appeared before me.

You've obtained the skill 'White Tiger's Tread.'

White Tiger's Tread (Active & Passive) LV1 EXP: 0.00%

The foot technique developed by the Beast King Bai Hu.

Passively increases movement speed by 10%.

Increases movement speed by 50% when active.

Additional 10 MP used per minute.

"Yeah," I said as Tukson put the books down on the table. "No problem. Maybe I should visit Haven someday myself, though."

I turned my attention to the two stacks of books. The taller one was composed of items Tukson had picked out after Blake asked—stuff he thought might be useful, mainly. I couldn't train all of them and I doubted all of them counted as skill books, but…well, I'd bear the burden of having many skills with the dignity of an Arc.

"Is this really okay?" I had to ask though, feeling a little bad about devouring the books when I still hadn't really agreed to this ridiculous plan, however certain Blake seemed of my involvement. The only reason I was still back here—besides, I admit it, my lust for Tukson's books—was the fact that she said she wouldn't force anything on me.

That damn quest window was lingering ominously, though.

"It's worth it for the chance." Tukson said, putting down the books with a sigh. "Saving lives, giving second chances…I was around for the Rights Revolution—got taken from Vacuo—so that's the type of thing that means something to me. And even…maybe this could even be the start of something new for the White Fang. If we could prove it was possible, establish a precedent…if the people you saved could be accepted even somewhat here in Vale…"

"You really think that could change the White Fang?"

"Maybe. Probably not," He admitted. "Too much has been said and done for any one thing to change the White Fang. But it could be a start. Something to build off of. If it was big enough that neither the public nor the White Fang could ignore it, flashy enough to stick in their minds and stay around, if people told stories about it…it could start something. That's what I think."

He smiled at me.

"Besides, what's the point of books if not to learn something from them?" Tukson asked. "And if you really do understand whatever you eat, then I can just ask you about it later."

I wasn't sure what to say in the face of that, but…

I reached out to touch the first book in the stack and took it in.

You've obtained the skill 'Computer Mastery.'

"I guess…" I sighed, regretting this more and more by the minute. I don't even think they were necessarily trying to make me feel guilty.

Blake hummed, still drawing.

"Don't forget the books I gave you," She said absently and I rolled my eyes before reaching for one.

You've obtained the skill 'Disguise.'

"Hey," Tukson asked, peering over my shoulder. "Blake are these…?"

Blake raised her head and gave him a look that shut him up.

"Ah," He continued awkwardly, still looking at the books before shaking his head. "Actually, give me just a second. There's one more book I want to give you."

Tukson went back to the back wall shelf, index finger trailing over the spins. I glanced at Blake, opening my mouth to ask—

"Don't," She said softly.

I didn't.

"If I went along with it, I'd need the manual for the specific model of airship you'd need me to pilot," I said instead, even as I absorbed a book about Airships. All vehicles fell under Drive but I could gain familiarity with or vehicles this way; the other books Blake had given me would probably do the same for Disguise. Engineering books just added Blueprints to Craft. "I could potentially get by with a normal book on the subject but I'd really rather not."

She nodded and I reached out for another book.

You've obtained the skill 'Firearms Mastery.'

"Found it!" Tukson said, coming back to my side just as I was about to reach for another, a short, well-worn book in his hands. "Have you ever read this one?"

I accepted it.

You obtained the skill book 'The Story of the Wind.' Would you like to learn this skill?

"The Story of the Wind?" I asked, shaking my head. "I've never heard of it."

Tukson clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

"Really? I get not knowing about Bai Hu, but this one is an actual classic," He said. "One of the oldest stories in the world. Even I don't know how old it is."

My eyebrows went up at that and I looked at the book in a new light. It didn't look old, though staring at it, I realized the cover must have been torn and replaced at some point. This was probably just another copy, but…

"You sure about giving it to me, then?" I asked. "It must be pretty—"

"You can buy it in any bookstore in Vacuo," Blake said without looking up from her notebook. "And in a lot of bookstore down here. Or just read it online, honestly. It's a very famous children's story up north."

Oh. That was kind of a letdown. But hey, a skill book is a skill book…right? But what skill would a children's book give?

And why would Tukson give me one?

"What's it about?" I asked, hesitating before consuming it.

"Well…Blake's right, I suppose; it's a story about a boy who got lost in a storm—and, by the way, you have not seen a storm until you've been to Vacuo—but found and befriended the Wind, who guided him back home and kept him safe, through the night and the Grimm and the cold. Supposedly, the boy recorded it all in this book and passed it down." Tukson scratched behind one ear. "It sounds kind of silly saying it like that, but it's a good book and a lot of stuff in it does work. Some people think it was actually an accounting of very early Dust use, in fact, because during the war they managed to imitate a lot of the feats, exactly as written—even the designs. Everyone in Vacuo's read that book at least once, I guarantee it."

"They give everyone in the military a copy," Blake added in a quiet voice. "In case any soldiers get lost and need to find their way home."

I looked back at the book, understanding what she was saying.

"This…then this was yours?" I asked Tukson, who shrugged. "I…I can't take this."

"Didn't you hear Blake?" He asked. "You can get one of those anywhere. Really, look at that old thing. I should have gotten a new one a long time ago. Besides which—I knew my way home. Besides, I'm not much of a fighter anymore."

I exhaled slowly.

Damn it, damn it, damn it, this was unfair.

"I have some things I need to do after this," I told them both. "And a few things I want to check out, too. But after that, I'll give you an answer, okay? One way or another. You gonna be here for a while, Blake?"

She tossed me the scroll from before again.

"All the important stuff is on there and you can use it to contact me. Keep it."

"Thanks," I said before pushing the button to accept the skill book.

And then I froze, staring for a long, quiet minute.

"Hey, Tukson," I said after I shook myself from my thoughts. "Thanks."

I could hear a new song, carried on the wind, something familiar and half-forgotten—and it made me want to call out to it, to raise the wind and ask it to join me and share the joy in that song, but…

But beneath the gentle song of the air, I heard the stead beat of iron drums, like of an army ready to march, and felt a comforting weight by my side. I knew the steps that had to follow now, to begin the dance.

However, there was something I had to do before anything else, so I could make my decision.

"I'm going to need to go for just a bit," I said, glancing at the clock as my hands gathered up the remaining books.

I had to speak to my father.

And then I had to speak to my sword.

You've obtained the skill 'Summon Elemental.'

New Status, 'Air Element Affinity' has been created.

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