As morning rolls around, police chief Svin Afføring is sitting in his office as he chugs down a cup of coffee. Judging by how loud the gulps are, he is not a happy man. As he gently slams the empty mug on the table, he looks at his computer with a stern glare. Across the screen are several files of evidence he's managed to collect. All pertaining to a certain Beacon dropout that he has had the unfortunate privilege to try and find.

(Y/n) P. Goodwitch.

This little fucking F word has made Afføring's professional life a living hell ever since the Headmaster of Beacon personally tasked him with finding the boy. What he expected once he had gotten that call was to find a lost and confused boy, consumed by the stresses of school life and the responsibilities of becoming a future Huntsman... What he got was the equivalent of a domestic terrorist, making a fool out of him, his police officers, and the overall concept of the law. Suffice to say, he fully intends to find (y/n) as Professor Ozpin had asked. Just not for the same reason anymore.

That has proven much more difficult than arresting someone of ethnic origins without pissing off the public. In fact, any attempt at locating (y/n) has resulted in hospitalization or death. With the arrival of the Atlas military, his activities have somewhat slowed. However, this only seemed to encourage him to go bigger. Such as his latest activity not long ago. Dragging his computer mouse to one of the files, Afføring opens a video evidence of (y/n) taking part in the robbery of government property, murder of a Huntsman, and the aiding of terrorists.

Along with other crimes and eyewitness reports Afføring was able to gather, he has acquired enough evidence to basically put (y/n) in prison for life. All while barely 18 years old, no less. Now, all that's left is to actually catch the little bastard. Sadly, he knows that his officers are not qualified to try and arrest someone with such a.... "colorful" portfolio. Thankfully, he has a plan. With the arrival of the Atlas army to boost security for the current Vytal Festival, he hopes to get a meeting with General Ironwood and suggest a city wide man hunt. With the general's resources, the police chief could finally put this psychopath behind bars. Or a really deep hole--

*Knock-knock-knock*

A knocking from his office door pulls Afføring from his train of thought, snapping his gaze towards the entrance.

Svin: Come in.

Opening the door, the mysterious knocker reveals to be one of Afføring's detectives with a folder in hand and a somewhat confused look on his face.

Detective: Um, chief?

Svin: What is it, Detective Viorel?

Detective: There's, ahhh... been a development with the (y/n) case.

The detective drums his fingers on the file, trying to find the best way to explain what had happened. This slight hesitation makes Afføring think yet another crime has happened thanks to that sentient tumor known as (y/n), resulting in a guttural groan to escape his mouth.

Svin: What did he do NOW? Set fire to a park? Rob a warehouse? Terrorize another gas station?

Detective: N-no, sir. He, umm.... He got arrested.

Svin:......... Excuse me?

Any anger that inhabited within the police chief was suddenly evicted and replaced with confusion.

Detective: Yes, sir. He was arrested last night.

Svin: How?! What happened?

The detective brings the file over to the chief and hands it over. Afføring quickly grabs it and opens the report on the arrest.

Detective: In short, (y/n) assaulted two Atlesian Knights, and just... got arrested.

Skimming through the file, Afføring finds that the little shit in question had thrown a cider bottle at an Atlas robot and, no bullshit, just gave up. Was quickly arrested and immediately taken to a nearby Atlesian Airship called Blue 2. The file ends with the kid admitting to some crimes and is being held for questioning.

Svin:.....

Detective: Ssooo, yeah. We can finally close the (y/n) case. Sir.

Without another word, the detective takes his leave, allowing ol' Svinny to stare blankly at the file in absolute disbelief. After several seconds that feel like minutes, the chief finally looks up from the file and stares at his computer. The same video paused on (y/n)'s face as he walked towards the dead Huntsman. A malice grin plastered on his still face.

Svin:..... The fuck do I do with all this then!?

[Location: Beacon Fairgrounds]

Within the school grounds stand multiple stalls and booths of various foods, games, and trinkets for sale as part of the 40th Vytal Festival. Among one of these shenanigans practicing establishments are three members of team RWBY as they sit and wait for their food. The last member, Yang, currently back in their dorm under house arrest after donkey bunching someone's knee in during her tournament against Mercury Black... Allegedly.

Besides that controversy, the rest of the all girls team are somewhat bummed out that they're disqualified. All they can do now is root for other teams from Beacon, and hope their blonde friend doesn't get arrested. Until then, they'll just enjoy some delicious diarrhea inducing fair food. Ruby and Weiss with bowls of noodles, while Blake is halfway through a bowl of just fish. Way to live up to the stereotypes, girl.

Weiss: Anyway, I've heard that Pyrrha will be up next for the 1 on 1 competition. I'm very curious about who she'll fight against.

Ruby: Well, there are a lot she can go up against. So much, in fact, I can't name them all...! Nope, still bummed about Yang.

Weiss: *sigh* Look, we're all worried about her, but you heard what General Ironwood said. It could have just been stress and adrenaline messing with her head. The best we can hope for is this will get resolved without any more problems.

Ruby just nods in agreement, not really in the mood to continue the conversation as she plays with her chopsticks. Weiss, seeing that it might be a good idea to leave her be, turns her attention to the team's feline fellow trying to deep throat a fish. Before the silver haired heiress could say a word, a strange ringing pulse sound pierces the air. The pulsing quickly pucks up speed before becoming the equivalent of a digital screeching sound.

Before either of the humans could respond about the ear piercing sound, Blake grabs Weiss's chopsticks from her hand and plunges the wooden utensils into the Schnee's neck. The force of the stab causes the Atlas girl to fall out of her stool and hit the dirt hard, blood quickly coating her neck and dress. With her out of the way, the faunus girl jumps at Ruby, wrapping her fingers around her leader's neck as they both topple to the ground.

Now straddling the red hooded girl, Blake continues to strangle her friend as Ruby desperately tries to pry her attacker's hands from her scrawny neck. A panicked and betrayed look decorates her now slightly blue-ish face. Her lips move as if to try and beg for her life, or even say Blake's name.

Whatever she tries to say does not reach both sets of Blake's ears, as the incessant ringing continues to mute all other noise. Ruby's struggles begin to die down.

.
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Blake awakens with a panicked yelp as she bolts up from the table. Her breath in a rhythmic hyperventilation as a cold sweat drenched her face. A sharp shush emanates from afar, snapping the faunus out of her panicked stupor. As her mind finally stops racing and her breathing back to normal, Blake views her surroundings and remembers where she is. She is sitting at a table in the Beacon library, a few books laid out in front of her for random school assignments. One of them obviously ruined from saliva after she had used it as a pillow.

As Blake finally comes to terms that what had happened was just a dream, the realization of what that dream was about immediately sets in. She buries her face in her hands as she lets out a struggled breath. This nightmare has been haunting her every other night, ever since what happened at that White Fang rally point almost half a month ago. It didn't matter what was happening in the dream; talking with friends, meeting family, taking class, even walking down a crowded street. That same hellish ringing noise always appears, and she just... loses control.

What makes it worse is that she doesn't black out, lose memories, or feel like she's somehow being forced to. Every time, it just.... happens. Without resistance or even a second thought, she just fights like her life depends on it. Most of all, it always feels like it should happen. Like she's supposed to kill, maim, and butcher anyone around her. That's what scares her the most, that the act of killing feels like a necessity.

All because of that sound.

Rubbing her eyes to get rid of both sleep and tears, Blake checks her scroll to find something to get her mind off of that nightmare. She sees that it's afternoon already and decides to head out to the fairgrounds soon. She promised to meet with Weiss at one of the food stalls, so maybe this will help distract her. After putting away most of her books, while getting scolded by the librarian for drooling on the one, she finally leaves the academy grounds and goes to.... a different part of it.

[Location: Actual Beacon Fairgrounds]

After totally not losing thirty Lien to a totally not rigged ring toss game, Jaune walks away from the booth emotionally numb. Letting out a defeated breath, he gets over it and looks around for a different booth to waste his money on. As he does so, he suddenly thinks about his team. Ren and Nora wandered off to win an Ursa plushie. Well, Nora did, Ren was just dragged along. And Pyrrha...

Ever since this morning, Pyrrha has looked like something was on her thoughts. Maybe it was the jitters for the finals? Jaune really couldn't tell. After looking around a bit more, he spotted a cotton candy stand and had an idea. He dug out what little Lien he still had and made his way over.

On his way, slipping past fellow fair goers, Jaune passes by a food booth that is currently housing a certain white-haired scarfaced heiress by the name of Why Sneeze--Weiss Schnee. With a drink of choice in hand, she takes another sip as she waits for the B member of team RWBY to finally meet up to eat. Until then, all she can do is drink juice, people watch, make one-sided conversations with the old booth keeper who only communicates in grunts, shift in her seat so her ass doesn't go numb, and watch holo TV that was thankfully mounted on the booth wall in front of her.

Unfortunately, with the competitions delayed due to what happened last night, all that's on is questionable childrens cartoons and the news. Thankfully, it's the news this time. If she had to hear one more whip sound effect from that God forsaken Test Show, Weiss was going to scream. Or kindly ask the old man to change the channel.

As she thinks about how to actually talk to the guy, who Weiss swears she's seen him working somewhere else before, Lisa Lavender soon appears on the holographic television.

Lisa: Our top story today, Atlas officials have arrested (y/n) Goodwitch, a Beacon dropout who has eluded law enforcements for months.

Mid sip, Weiss suddenly does a spit take, which causes her drink to splatter her face. After coughing her lungs out, she does her best to wipe the liquid from her eyes to focus on the television. A picture of a mugshot reveals (y/n) himself holding a placard. All while flipping the bird to the camera and sporting a smile like he told a tasteless joke.

Lisa: Wanted for multiple crimes, including theft, murder, destruction of private property, and many more. Recently, however, it has come to light that mister Goodwitch was responsible for the highway massacre over a month ago, along with the recent theft of multiple high-grade weaponry and aiding terrorist group, The White Fang.

As Lisa continues the report, more photos appear on the screen. Pictures of those Weiss assumes are the deceased, crime scenes, (y/n) committing certain crimes, and the aftermath of the highway collapse.

Lisa: While further development is unclear, most are certain that nothing short of life imprisonment awaits the former Huntsman-in-training.

A look of shock plasters on Weiss' moist face as she focuses on the highway photo. Memories of her team fighting the Atlesian Paladin flash through her mind. Vehicles being crushed and thrown around like toys by that mech. Everyone of them occupied. Ever since that fight, team RWBY was under the impression that it was Roman Torchwich piloting the machine. So it was a no-brainer to blame the massacre on him.

But (y/n)? That raises several concerning questions. Yet, at the same time, it doesn't. This just leaves confusion for the young heiress. As Lisa continues talking about the news, the realization finally dawns on Weiss. The highway, the warehouse, hundreds of deaths, and all her friends almost killed. All in one night by a former student that everyone had little regard for.

This little revelation leaves Weiss in a dumbfounded catatonic state as she stares blankly at the screen, unaware of the black dressed faunus calling out to her from behind.

[Location: Blue 2 Atlesian Airship]

A stressed and annoyed James Ironwood paces back and forth on the occupied bridge of the airship as he thinks back to the last few hours. While he was coordinating Atlas security early in the morning, he was informed of an arrest that happened last night. Normally, he wouldn't care about some random arrest, but a background check was also mentioned, revealing the arrested to be the son of a close acquaintance.

After arriving on the ship, James immediately made his way to the holding cells. Along the way, he was given more information on the person in question. Safe to say, he was surprised by the amount of trouble such a young man could cause. From the little conversations he'd had with the acquaintance in the past regarding the child, he was expecting a timid, skittish, shy boy.

Who he met in that cell felt like talking to a second Torchwick, but much more chatty and full of himself.

Long story short, the kid had a lot to say. Specifically about the highway, armory, and mile long road of corpses. A small part of James believed he was just blowing it out his ass, but after specific details on the Paladin's mechanisms were thrown into the confession, it was hard denying that the boy had a disturbing amount of knowledge on the mini mech. Anyway, after further questioning, all the general could get was that the teen had not only committed several small-scale crimes but also multiple other felonies that almost border on crimes against Remnant.

More annoyingly that he has hinted at working with an organization besides the White Fang but refuses to divulge such information. As he quoted, "Snitches don't get bitches." Or however the saying goes, James sort of gave up on the interrogation after the twelfth deez nuts joke. Disrespectful little shit.

Once James was done overlooking the safeguard of the Vytal Festival, he was gonna pull all the stops on squeezing every drop of information out of him. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if the dropout was acquainted with the ginger bastard right across--

*Ringring*

Train of thought violated with interruption, James reaches into his pocket and pulls out his scroll. He looks at the pullout screen and sees the caller ID simply reading Witch-of-the-South. Eyebrow raised, he answers the call and places the device to his ear.

James: Glynda. To what--

Glynda: I'm on my way to the airship. I'll be there in a minute.

Surprised, the general raises an eyebrow as he composes a response.

James: Glynda, I'm not certain that--

Glynda: James, I know my son is on the ship. Either you let me on board, or I will rip that thing out of the sky in a purple hue!

James is immediately greeted with silence as Glynda hangs up. He pulls the scroll from his ear and looks at it, dumbstruck and annoyed. While also fearful and aroused.

[Location: Brig]

Sitting in one of the hilariously cramped cells in this glorified hallway of a brig, you continue to lounge on the bench bolted to the wall as you continue to think of ways to escape. After getting grilled about your silly escapades in the city, you were finally given time to yourself before you are thrown into a deep dark hole in the middle of God knows where and rot for all eternity... Eh, if it goes to shit, you can just rewind to a more convenient time.

As you think about doing another vertical plank; They did not have comfort in mind when making these cells. You hear the faint rhythmic footsteps of one.... no, two people are making their way down the brig. Maybe it's Ironwuss coming for another deez nuts joke. You knew he was starting to like them! You stand up, stretch a little, and face the door as you try to hold back a grin. Maybe you'll start off with William.

The moment the cell door slides down, you barely get the first word out before you realize that you are not being visited by Ironwank. But a blonde chick with glasses and a blouse, and a real dumb looking purple cape. Safe to say, you are caught off guard. On the plus side, the deez nuts jokes are somehow gonna be funnier.

???:...

(Y/n):...

???:...

(Y/n):... So have you heard--

Without warning, the woman suddenly launches forward and hugs you like you're someone she knows. If you can get over the shock, you could almost hear her sniffle.

James: Five feet from the prisoner, Glynda.

Standing outside the cell, James looks at the two of you with his arms crossed. Glynda lets you go and glares at the general before silently complying. All the while, you are just confused as to what the hell is going on.

Glynda: (y/n).... I finally found you.

(Y/n): Uuuugh.... Hi?

Glynda: Hi? You run away, terrorizing the city for almost a year, and all you can say is hi?

(Y/n):....... Yes?

Glynda's face seemed to have a hard time picking an emotion to emote. If it weren't for the confusing situation, you'd find it funny. She takes a deep breath before continuing this riveting conversation.

Glynda: Just tell me. Why?

(Y/n): Why what?

James: She's asking why did you do all of the things you've done in the city.

You lean to the side to give a raised eyebrow to Jamie. You decide to pretend he doesn't exist and focus back on the blondie.

(Y/n): Well, I guess it all started when I woke up with an itchy throat and just, you know, chose violence. The rest, I'm sure you can figure out yourself. It's pretty straightforward if you ask me.

Glynda: You have killed people!

(Y/n): Maybe one or two.

Glynda: What happened to you? What happened to the little boy who dreamt of becoming a Huntsman? Who wanted to be like the ones he heard from bedtime stories?

(Y/n): 'This is getting weird.'

Glynda: Why didn't you come to me? We could've talked about whatever problems you had and figured out a solution. But now... Now, there's no chance of bringing things back to normal because of what you have done.

You roll your eyes at her before stopping mid way. The moment she mentioned things back to normal, your mind suddenly thinks back to a moment many months ago. When you first woke up, swinging from a ceiling fan, confused and angry. Most importantly, the part where you read through your old journal. Pages of a happy dumbass with hopes and dreams, slowly devolving into a bullied pathetic mess who pussed out.

And this bitch is implying she wanted that weakling back?

(Y/n): Back to normal, you say? And what exactly is that to you, huh? Because to me, it sounds like you want me to return as a sniveling crybaby that barely made up the dirt the totem pole is in. Is that who you want? The same guy that nobody could give two shits if he swung from a ceiling fan without hands because he was that laughably pathetic! Is that what you call normal?

In your little tangent, you take a few steps closer to make an intimidating point. Unaware of James taking a defensive stance as he reaches for something at his side. You're more focused on Glynda looking actually intimated by your harsh tone. You glare daggers at her as you stand to your full height. If it weren't for her heels, you might have been staring down at her.

Whatever parental feelings Glynda had is quickly set aside as she regains her composer as a Huntress.

Glynda: How dare you! I didn't raise you to be--

(Y/n): Raise me!? Bitch I don't even know who the fuck you are!

Apparently, that struck a nerve for the blonde teacher, as she raises her hand and slaps you across the face. This catches you and James by surprise as the air around all of you goes deathly silent. Your head is turned to the side from the force of the slap. Besides that, you don't move a muscle. Glynda breathes heavily from the emotional rush before her eyes widen from the realization of what she did. You simply turn your head back to her slowly. A red mark on your cheek soon forming as you stare her down.

The expression on your face is not one of shock, pain, fear, or anger. But simply one of annoyance.

(Y/n): You get one..... Let's try that again.

You take a step back, leaning yourself against the back wall as you cross your arms.

(Y/n): What I meant to say was; Who the hell are you to me?

Glynda looks at you in confusion. Still slightly shaken up over hitting you not ten seconds ago. It takes her a moment to comprehend what you're asking.

Glynda: (y/n).... I'm your mother.

Your eyes slightly widen from this little revelation, genuinely caught off guard for a second.

(Y/n):...... I think now is probably a good time to mention that I have amnesia.

Silence molests your surroundings once again, now from your own little revelation. Your "mother" does that kaleidoscope of emotions thing again from your response. Almost taking twice as long to string together her own.

Glynda: W-what?

(Y/n): Yeah. Apparently, asphyxiation by shoelaces tends to do that to you. Honestly, if you were an actual mom, you would've known that by now. I didn't leave too much of a mess where it happened. Anybody with eyes could've pieced that together.

Your emotionless tone mixed with what you're saying leaves Glynda in shock. Then your words start to sink in. Shoelaces? That would imply...... She knew you were not mentally well, but she didn't know--

(Y/n): Oh! I just realized, now that I have you here, I've been meaning to ask.

Glynda's attention snaps back to you. A sadistic grin slowly creeps across your lips.

(Y/n): Are you finally proud of me, mother?

Confusion slaps its dick across Glynda's face once again from your question.

(Y/n): I may not remember anything, but I do remember my journal I read before leaving that school. Apparently, I was a hell of a disappointment to not only the school but to you as well.

Glynda stammers a response. Desperately trying to say you are wrong, that you weren't a disappointment. That you are her son, and she loves you regardless. You don't give her the chance.

(Y/n): A silly little boy who cried during sparring matches and couldn't even stand up to his own team. A really sad display of a Huntsman-in-training, don't you think? But now?

You raise your hands and wave them around in the cell. A small chuckle escapes your lips.

(Y/n): Look at me! Every fight I've fought? I won! Any self-doubt or cowardice before? I walk like I'mcarryinga pairthat clank! Am I finally everything you've always wanted me to be, mom?

Glynda steps back from you, her frame shaking as tears begin to well up in her eyes. She shakes her head in denial as you continue your rant.

(Y/n): Are you finally proud of your little killer! HUH?

James rushes over and slams a hand on a control panel just to the side of the cell door. The metal door zooms upward and blocks your view of your mother as she soon starts walking back down the hall. She holds a hand over her mouth to prevent any audible sobs from escaping her lips as her tears flow freely down her cheeks. All the while,your laughter can be heard behind the cell door. Almost like you heard the punchline of a dark joke.

The Atlas General stands outside your cell, glancing between where you might be standing and down the hall where Glynda rushed off to. Figuring it might be best to comfort his friend, he starts walking in the same direction.

(Y/n): Oh shit, WAIT! I just remembered something important! It's urgent!

Stopping in his tracks, James turns back to the metal door, your voice slightly muffled but still audible. A stern look plastered on his face as he walks back to your cell. Pressing the same button, the door slides down, revealing your presence once again. This time, with a worried look on your face.

(Y/n): I can't believe I forgot about this! Did you know what happened to William after I got arrested?

Slightly intrigued, James narrows his eyes at you.

James: Who is William?

(Y/n):..... Willia munch on deez NUTS! Badaboom!

James immediately closes the door once again and just stomps away. Quickly catching up to Glynda as you continue to laugh your ass off.

(Y/n): Hahahahahaaa! Oh man, I kill me! Now, where was I?

You begin looking around your cell before you notice something on a wall close to the floor. Kneeling down, you see it's a wall panel screwed into place. Before you can do anything, you hear a faint laughter coming from outside.

???: Man, and I thought I had mommy issues.

You stop what you're doing and stand to your full height, staring at your cell door like you're expecting it to open.

(Y/n): Who the fuck is this?

You place your ear to the door as you try to focus on the voice.

???: I'm the guy in the cell across from you. And might I say, I am quite impressed with what I've heard.

Surprised that you might have an admirer, you decide to humor the strange man with talk as you kneel back down to the panel.

(Y/n): Oh, you were listening to all that? And what part of it did you like?

???: Well, I was also listening to your little interrogation with the good general. I wanted to know a bit more about the part with the Atlesian Paladin. If you don't mind.

You rip off the metal button from your pants, figuring the zipper and your ass will hold your jeans up for the time being, and place it on the head of one of the screws.

(Y/n): Oh, that's my favorite part! However, you mind telling me who I'm regaling my tale to?

The button is a perfect fit! You begin to loosen the screw as your mystery friend reveals himself.

???: Why, of course. The name's Torchwich. Roman Torchwich. Nice to meet ya.

Ignoring the feeling that you might have heard that name before, you let the first screw fall as you move on to the next one as you begin telling your story.

Meanwhile, Glynda and James ride inside a bullhead in silence as they fly towards a floating structure in the evening sky. As they travel, another bullhead flies past them and towards the airship. A lone petite inhabitant in an Atlas uniform pilots the aircraft as she sees the Blue 2 get closer and closer. Her dark brown eyes scan the vessel with anticipation as she lets a small smile slowly stretch her lips. As she blinks her eyes, their colors instantly change to one pink and one light brown.

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