Chapter 97: Headquarter
As I trekked deeper in the White Fang's hideout, I drew some stares—which was to be expected, I supposed, given the gore liberally painted over my skin. Before long, wisps of smoke began to rise from the Grimm remains, the last of their bodies slowly evaporating and leaving behind little more than clinging soot. I could imagine the image I presented, walking through the halls looking like that.
But I rolled with it, stalking my way through the complex as if I owned the place. I didn't make any sign of noticing my current state, much less being bothered by it, and though there were whispers…well, no one stopped me as I progressed further into the site. I assumed they recognized me.
I kept an eye out the entire way down. My senses, altered by the nature of my power, were one of my greatest advantages. I could read people's levels and names at a glance, pick up what should have been impossible to know details with a longer look, and spot signs of things long past from the invisible marks they left behind—and I put all of it to use. Home solely to the Faunus, there were no lights in the abandoned facility, but that didn't mean there was any less to be seen.
I memorized the names of those I passed so I would remember if I saw them elsewhere. Anyone with an unusually high rating got more focused attention as I skimmed their profiles for what made them stand out and whether or not I should be wary. The building offered up a great deal of information all its own; it was an abandoned facility from the time of the war that had fallen first to enemy forces and then to the creatures of Grimm. At some point, the White Fang had cleaned it out and put it to a new purpose—and not recently, either. This was something older, something established; I could tell at a glance that though they left most of them off, the base's systems were not just in working order, but far beyond what it would have had at the time of its creation. It had been refurbished and kept up to date since its reclamation.
And that…was a bit worrying. Though not right next to it, the base was still in relatively close proximity to the city and something like this, remodeling a fallen military base, would have taken a lot of time, effort, and, of course, money. The White Fang being capable of such a thing without drawing attention to themselves was concerning; all the more so for the vastly more likely explanation. That someone had noticed—had seen what was being done and hid it. Or perhaps even assisted it, funding the operation. That was easier to imagine but if so, it confirmed that someone in Mistral who had a lot of power had taken a role in ensuring things went smoothly.
There was a pretty short list of people it could be. I couldn't say I'd honestly doubted Adam when he claimed that the Families were involved—whatever else he may be, the man wasn't stupid—but this all but confirmed it. I didn't know enough about the internal politics of the White Fang or of Mistral, but…
Without a doubt, I needed to talk to my grandmother.
I didn't let any of those thoughts show on my face, staying calm and distant as I strode forward until I reached what seemed to be a heavily modified assembly hall or storage room; it was hard to tell, after the fact, but whatever it had been it now served as…
A very large but otherwise surprisingly mundane common room. Maybe it was a bit weird of me to never have thought about it, given that I'd assisted them before and all, but I'd never truly given much thought to what the White Fang did in their free time. I mean, I'd known logically that even people like Blake and Adam, highly trained operatives that were no doubt kept busy jumping from one mission to the next, couldn't work all of the time. Adam may have been content in his apparent lack of a life, but Blake at least had time to read occasionally, if he comments and actions were anything to go by. It stood to reason that other members of the White Fang would also have time to themselves—probably more time, if they weren't Hunter level fighters kept endlessly busy.
Nonetheless, the sight that welcomed me underneath the White Fang's hideout still felt bizarre. There were many pieces of mismatched furniture that looked like they'd been bought cheap or used, seemingly arranged with no rhyme or reason. Mats and rugs mimicked the trend, all but hiding the concrete floor in patterns for the garishly ugly to worn but beautiful. A fair number of lawn chairs were arranged unevenly around nearly two dozen tables of various shapes and sizes, covered in everything from the expected to the strangely mundane. Next to a table covered in guns and ammunition was one whose surface was nearly hidden by magazines with titles like 'The Fairest' and 'Ms. Mistral.' Set against the back wall was a set of roughly level tables that held up rows of water coolers and coffee pots, sandwiched on either end by two large refrigerators.
I walked into the room and just stared for a moment, feeling just a bit silly. To my left was a table with three muscular men and a young girl playing a board game of some kind, with cards and pieces and a map of Remnant—I didn't recognize it. Board games in my house had a tendency to devolve quickly into fighting games to the point that my only experience with chess was as a full contact sport. To my right was a semicircle of random loveseats and couches, arrayed around a large television beside a shelf of movies. Not too far away a girl with a handheld game was talking to a young woman doing her nails, both of whom seemed to be getting ignored by a third girl wearing headphones.
I could admit it; whatever I'd expected to find the White Fang doing in their downtime, it wasn't this.
"Surprised?" Adam whispered.
Of course, just because I could admit it to myself didn't mean I felt any need to do so out loud.
"Actually, this explains a lot about the White Fang." I mused back at him, looking around contemplatively. Adam snorted behind me.
"Oh, Mr. Taurus!" I heard a voice say and turned to find a scraggly looking guy with watery eyes staring at us. I could tell because he'd apparently pushed his mask up to put on some reading glasses and open a book. He blinked at us once and squinted at me before his eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say…something. Whatever it was, what he actually said was 'Um. Um.'
I felt a little mean thinking it, but I couldn't help but wonder if Adam's 'become the monsters they'd made us out to be' explanation wasn't entirely accurate. I mean it sounded good, but looking at the young man in front of me—who looked young, for all that he was probably a few years older than me, and had a bad case of ache to prove it—if maybe the intimidation factor didn't have something to do with it. Because looking around, at the men and women with their uniforms off and their masks raised…they just looked like people.
Then again, I suppose that was what they were.
The young man, Beige, blinked owlishly at me for a few more seconds, feathered hair twitching as his gaze turned towards Adam.
"Um," He said. "Did something happen, sir? I mean, sirs."
"There was a problem outside," Adam said gruffly, but since he nodded in greeting towards Beige instead of dismissing him, I figured there was a story of some kind there.
"Um," He said again. Around us, I could see other people begin to look our way, the knowledge of our arrival rippling outwards until everyone knew. "Could you define problem?"
"Grimm," Adam replied bluntly, scanning the crowd.
"Oh," Beige said. "Right. Problem. Are they, uh…?"
He trailed off as Adam left, making a bee line for someone—Blake, I saw after a moment. Beige glanced at me, apparently considering asking, before thinking better of it.
"Do not be concerned," I told him. "It's dealt with."
He looked me over, probably noting the stains, and nodded quickly. I returned the gesture more calmly and then followed my friend at a sedate pace. Other members of the White Fang saw me and tracked me as I crossed the floor, some almost rising to greet me, some almost shrinking away, but none approaching me. In the end, that was probably for the best, here and now—that I be a distant, mysterious figure, but one who's image represented confidence and power.
Because that's what it always seemed to boil down to, wasn't it? Image, identity, resemblance, and expression. I was the tiger, king of the jungle—untouched for all that I was soaked in blood. But it was their enemy's blood and that was what mattered. That they knew there was nothing to fear out there. That they understood they were safe, behind a mighty, invincible warrior.
And if that was a lie, it was a lie that had protected the people of Remnant for generations. It wasn't enough to push back the assaults of the Grimm, for that the seeds of dread and fear would only draw more—you had to crush them, cut them down like stalks of wheat and make it obvious you could do it a thousand times. And if that was a lie? Then you lied, because telling the truth was far worse.
"Adam," I heard Blake say as she looked up from her book. "Where did you—"
She cut herself off, lifting her gaze to look at me. She stared hard for a moment before shifting to look towards Adam for a second, mouth twisting with a desire to say something about it—but she hesitated. She wouldn't risk making a scene and saying the wrong thing here in front of a crowd of people and Adam knew it. For a moment, I thought she wouldn't say anything at all, that she'd let things pass begrudgingly, but her lips twitched once and she met Adam's hidden eyes.
"You shouldn't have brought him into this," She whispered and I muffled the sound further with Levant to keep things private, just in case. "Not again."
Adam shrugged one shoulder in reply, not flinching.
"I did anyway," He said. "If something's happening, he deserves to know. Especially if…"
"Know what?" I asked him through Levant, not bothering to move my lips. I saw his ear twitch once at the sound, but his face turned slightly so that he was looking towards a door set off to the side of the room.
"I'm not sure," Adam said, keeping his voice low enough that only Levant should be able to pick it up. Blake closed her eyes and looked away. "But when you fought, there was a reaction—more than there should have been. Whatever's happening has something to do with you and your family, Jaune. And it's something big, something…I don't know what you'll find or what will happen afterwards. But I figured you deserved the chance to find out. You can still back out."
"Meh," I replied distractedly as Levant's power expanded through the space around us, mixing with the air as it came under her influence and crept swiftly towards the door. "Leave now? It's just getting interesting."
Adam snorted again, a bull-like sound and I made my 'tone' more serious.
"Thanks," I said. "For the heads up."
"Can you hear them?" He asked after a moment. "The room's soundproof."
"Noticed," I muttered back as Levant detected barely anything from the door—and with what could have been a shrug, promptly reached out to grasp the air on the other side. The voices came to me immediately, filling my ears as Levant mirrored them on this side of the wall. "Not a problem."
"—His name is Jaune Arc."
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