Two Wrongs Make a Right Ch.40

And it's a direct hit—perfectly placed.

The Dragoon's knee joint explodes in a sudden spray of high-pressure hydraulic fluid that instantly vaporizes into a thick, oily mist. Then, almost immediately, the pressurized fluid catches fire from the shower of mechanical sparks generated by the broken joint, igniting into a bright orange blaze that rapidly engulfs the entire leg in flames.

The combat walker stumbles violently at first, trying desperately to compensate for the sudden structural failure. Thick steam and roaring flames pour aggressively from the destroyed joint as everything fails in a cascading sequence. The big robot shifts its weight frantically between its remaining functional legs to remain upright.

But it doesn't appear to have any failsafe programmed—it just keeps stumbling progressively worse, its movements becoming increasingly erratic and uncoordinated.

The Dragoon begins tilting dangerously to one side. The burning leg buckles completely under stress, unable to support any weight whatsoever. The other three legs start jerking and moving erratic patterns, almost resembling a dying spider's final spasms before death.

Then, whether through sheer bad luck or fundamentally poor design, the Dragoon's mini-guns suddenly spin up to full speed and begin firing wildly in uncontrolled, sustained bursts.

The out-of-control weapon fire rakes violently across the battlefield in wide, unpredictable sweeping arcs as the walker continues its uncontrolled death spiral. High-caliber rounds tear indiscriminately through the air at thousands of rounds per minute, striking everything without discrimination. Numerous Atlesian Knight units positioned in the immediate vicinity get caught directly in friendly fire, their white armor plating sparking violently and rupturing as armor-piercing rounds punch clean through their chassis. One Knight's entire head explodes spectacularly in a shower of electrical sparks. Another unit gets nearly cut completely in half by the concentrated burst, its torso separating from its legs.

It also hits a few Goliaths but barely does any damage to them.

Within seconds, the flames spread more aggressively throughout the robot. The Dragoon finally collapses completely onto its side with a loud crash, lying there twitching pathetically, its remaining functional limbs jerking spasmodically, still occasionally firing random bursts into the air and ground.

"CRITICAL HIT CONFIRMED, COMMANDER. ATLAS DRAGOON UNIT HAS BEEN EFFECTIVELY DISABLED AND RENDERED NON-FUNCTIONAL. TOTAL COMBAT EFFECTIVENESS RATING: ZERO PERCENT. FRIENDLY FIRE ACHIEVED. HOSTILE TROOPS IS DISARRAY."

"I noticed," I respond, chambering another armor-piercing round. 

Bullseye.

But for that result, either that was an incredibly lucky shot, or it is a fundamentally catastrophic design flaw in their machine. A single shot shouldn’t achieve so much.

Perhaps that hydraulic system was poorly shielded from external damage, or perhaps the pressurization exceeded the normal parameters, besides that they are using flammable fluids. Either scenario represents a glaring weakness in their design. Or perhaps this is a different model compared to the variants I fought during that train massacre.

Well, back then I didn’t really have this AP rifle or any of the many enchantments I now have either.

Huh, that’s a little too detailed. It must be my engineering and science talents at play.

"WARNING: INCOMING HOSTILE FIRE DETECTED."

I don't waste a second to think or ask before I launch myself backward off the building's edge, Pod following behind me. As I send my rifle back to the pocket space.

A laser beam hits the roof I'd been standing on moments ago. And the aftermath leaves a glowing molten scar across.

"Pod, be my eyes!" I order as I slide  down the building's exterior wall.

"UNDERSTOOD! INITIATING AEREAL RECONNAISSANCE."

Pod accelerates upward to gain altitude while I continue my rapid descent where I can see Brutus waiting for my return. 

Yet, this still gives me a brief moment to think. 

The laser fire came from the spider tank and they're almost certainly already coordinating with the rest of the forces to search and destroy.

If I stay in a single place I will be swarmed and killed.

"COMMANDER, MULTIPLE HOSTILE UNITS CONVERGING RAPIDLY TOWARD YOUR LAST KNOWN FIRING POSITION," Pod reports, getting my full attention "ONE SPIDER TANK COMBAT UNIT AND A FULL SQUAD OF ATLESIAN KNIGHT MOVING TO INTERCEPT YOUR LOCATION. ESTIMATED TIME OF ARRIVAL: FORTY-FIVE SECONDS."

They're responding faster than expected.

I hit the ground hard in a controlled roll, immediately sprinting at full speed toward Brutus who's already moving to meet me halfway, the squig's  tongue lolling out as he barks enthusiastically.

"Brutus, we're leaving!" I vault onto his back without breaking momentum, and he immediately lets out another bark before breaking into a sprint in the opposite direction.

I quickly summon a completely different cloak from my pocket dimension and then retrieve the same distinctive biker helmet I've been wearing for my missions. Even if I have Information Defense and Stealth Talent, I refuse to become overconfident and recklessly expose my actual identity.

"COMMANDER. MILITARY BULLHEAD TRANSPORT CRAFT DETECTED APPROACHING SOUTH. ETA: TWO MINUTES."

Interesting. 

They're not pulling any punches, aren’t they?

What was that old saying? A lion hunts a rodent with the same intensity as it hunts a larger game?

Another laser beam interrupts my thoughts, striking the upper floors from the building in front of us and causing concrete fragments and debris to explode outward and rain down everywhere.

I take a glance backward and see that the spider tank has climbed up a building. Only seconds later to notice the distinctive flicker of a bright red laser pointing at me, and all assumptions are answered the second when its primary cannon rotates towards us and watch it lit up for a second.

Yes, I could pull Brutus to the left or right but I have something different in mind. I jump into a defensive crouch on Brutus's moving back and draw Wilt smoothly from Blush, raising the crimson blade with both hands to intercept the incoming high-energy beam.

The impact is directly to my sword and if I wasn't strong enough it would have sent me flying as the deadly energy was meeting the blade's surface, but it held firm, crackling and sparking violently.

My first instinct is to let my semblance absorb the energy directly and channel it for a counterattack—but I stop myself from committing a blunder.

Semblances are inherently different tied to an individual, essentially functioning as fingerprints which is enough to identify anybody. Using mine here, in front of Atlas’s forces, would be stupid and reckless, prematurely exposing my survival to the entire world when I've worked to maintain the secret for months.

But I won’t let all this energy go to waste.

My nano machine heart.

It doesn't merely generate and distribute nanomachines throughout my body—it's also specifically designed and engineered to process and efficiently redistribute energy to power itself even further and enhance my body.

With that realization firmly in mind, I consciously redirect the contained energy. The crackling electrical energy that was barely contained against Wilt's red surface begins traveling rapidly upward along the sword and into my arms. I can actually see the bright blue-white lightning visibly arcing and dancing across the metal, racing energetically up my forearms, through my biceps, across my shoulders in branching patterns.

All of that converging where my pumping heart is.

And almost immediately, everything accelerates.

I let out an involuntary sharp breath by the new feeling, surprised that there's absolutely no pain or physical discomfort. I just feel active, energized… almost euphoric. 

Before I can fully process this, the spider tank discharges another attack.

I raise Wilt once more without hesitation, but rather than attempting to block the full force again, I deliberately angle my sword and redirect the attack, forcing it to strike the ground harmlessly instead where it leaves a glowing, molten scar in the pavement.

"COMMANDER, TACTICAL UPDATE," Pod's voice comes through clearly. "THE MEGOLIATH ALPHA HAS RETREATED FROM THE ENGAGEMENT ZONE WITH THE SURVIVING HERD MEMBERS. ATLESIAN FORCES ARE ABANDONING THEIR DEFENSIVE POSITIONS AND REDIRECTING THE MAJORITY OF THEIR COMBAT FORCE TO JOIN THE ACTIVE PURSUIT. ESTIMATED PURSUING FORCE: 5 SQUADS, TWO SPIDER TANKS, 2 ARMORED VEHICLES, ONE BULLHEAD TRANSPORT WITH ADDITIONAL REINFORCEMENTS. AND THE COMBAT BULLHEAD HEADING TO INTERCEPT."

So they've decided I'm the priority threat now rather than finish off the Grimm. 

Smart.

After all, I'm an unknown variable who can destroy their heavy units, it is obvious who is more dangerous to them.

But that also means I need to disappear quickly before they can establish a proper cordon and trap me in these ruins.

I grab Brutus's reins firmly and pull them towards the left to dodge another shot that screams past us.

I immediately release the reins and smoothly sheath Wilt back into Blush, transitioning weapons as I simultaneously retrieve my anti-materiel rifle from my pocket dimension. Without breaking our speed, I bring the heavy rifle up smoothly to my shoulder and aim directly at the tank that's been relentlessly targeting us.

I focus my crosshairs not on the main chassis or a joint, but specifically on the glowing red targeting laser pointer itself, at the very least it should ruin any targeting or lock-on system.

It doesn’t take a second before to pull the trigger.

The armor-piercing round flies absolutely true, hitting its mark.  And it causes immediate damage—too much damage.

The primary cannon begins spinning wildly and completely out of control. Bright sparks shower continuously from the damaged zone with no end in sight before it fall off the building.

A vehicle disabled with a single shot.

Again.

Either I'm experiencing an exceptionally lucky day with my accuracy, or these Atlesian war machines possess big design flaws. I'm strongly leaning toward the latter knowing the corporate nature of this world.

"COMMANDER, ATLESIAN PURSUIT FORCES HAVE BEEN AMBUSHED BY MULTIPLE GIANT SPIDER GRIMM EMERGING FROM UNDERGROUND AND ANOTHER AGGRESSIVE FLOCK OF JUVENILE NEVERMORE DIVING FROM ABOVE. FORCES CURRENTLY FULLY ENGAGED. PURSUING FORCE COMPOSITION REDUCED SIGNIFICANTLY TO ONLY THE TRANSPORT BULLHEAD AND GUNSHIP VARIANT."

Good timing. These beasts can be useful at times.

"WARNING, COMMANDER: ENEMY TRANSPORT DEPLOYING RECONNAISSANCE AND COMBAT DRONES FROM REAR BAY. MULTIPLE SMALL AERIAL TARGETS INBOUND TO YOUR POSITION."

"Dispatch them immediately, Pod," I give the order.

Cannot let them grasp any advantage and I know Pod can easily achieve that.

"UNDERSTOOD. ENGAGING HOSTILE TARGETS NOW."

I briefly glance upward and catch sight of small explosions occurring shortly after another across the sky, almost like those cheap fireworks.

"DRONES NEUTRALIZED."

"Good job, Pod."

Now that leaves the rest grounded with poor intel.

I yank Brutus's reins, bringing him to an immediate stop in front of another partially collapsed building. Either Grimm destruction or decay has destroyed the entire front wall, leaving a large gap in the wall which also has a big hole inside.

"Brutus, hide there. Wait for me." I command firmly, pointing directly at the hole.

The squig complies, bounding forward and disappearing completely into the darkness.

After that I leap upward, grabbing onto exposed rebar and broken concrete edges, climbing rapidly through the building's destroyed and collapsed internal stairwell. I ascended quickly to an upper floor, finding an excellent firing position near a partially intact window

"GUNSHIP REACHING YOUR GENERAL AREA NOW, COMMANDER." 

Right on time.

I peer over the window to find the gunship flying overhead before descending lower and maneuvering carefully between the taller buildings. A large scanning spotlight, mounted prominently on its underside, sweeps methodically across every visible surface, actively searching for anything that moves.

I smoothly reload my anti-materiel rifle, chambering a fresh bullet, and carefully track the aircraft's movement. I deliberately focus my crosshairs on the clearly visible engine housing on the wings. Common sense to consider that as a vulnerable point.

I control my breathing, compensate for wind and the target's speed.

I pull the trigger once more.

And the round hits its intended mark. 

The Bullhead's starboard engine immediately begins smoking heavily, bright sparks and roaring flames erupting violently from the turbine. The aircraft lurches violently sideways as it rapidly loses power and directional thrust, beginning to spin wildly and completely out of control. It loses altitude quickly and crashes spectacularly against a nearby building. The crash immediately triggers a secondary explosion, probably the fuel, sending a fireball and debris cascading down into the abandoned street below.

I can't help but smirk at the result.

This rifle is proving exceptionally and consistently effective against Atlas forces. I could start planning to mass produce these, it would give us a big edge against Atlas.

"TRANSPORT BULLHEAD IS DEPLOYING GROUND FORCES NOW. A PLATOON OF ATLESIAN KNIGHT UNITS BEING RAPIDLY DROPPED TWO BLOCKS WEST OF YOUR CURRENT POSITION. WARNING: DETECTING ANOMALY IN UNIT MOVEMENT BEHAVIOR."

"Explain." I frown.

"HALF OF DEPLOYED PLATOON ARE MOVING IN HIGHLY NON-STANDARD LOCOMOTION PATTERN. CORRECTION: THEY ARE MOVING RAPIDLY ON ALL FOUR LIMBS SIMULTANEOUSLY AND DEMONSTRATE ENHANCED CAPABILITY FOR VERTICAL CLIMBING AT SIGNIFICANTLY INCREASED SPEED COMPARED TO STANDARD KNIGHT UNITS. DESIGNATION UNKNOWN—NOT MATCHING ANY STANDARD ATLESIAN COMBAT UNIT PROFILES IN CURRENT DATABASE."

So they're not the usual robots carrying firearms. Maybe they are new shocktroop models or dedicated urban warfare which make sense since as far as I know Atlas is a mega city with giant skyscrapers and blocks.

"WARNING: ANOMALOUS UNITS APPROACHING YOUR CURRENT POSITION. ETA: FIFTY SECONDS."

I should probably move and pick them off one by one, but I need to test these new models so my people are not taken by surprise. Also, because I had been looking for a fight for a long while. 

These bots will serve perfectly as my live training dummies.

I send the anti-materiel rifle back to the pocket dimension and calmly place my hand above Wilt and Blush's grip.

Then I wait patiently, controlling my breathing.

"HOSTILE FORCES HAVE REACHED YOUR POSITION. DETECTING MULTIPLE SIMULTANEOUS ENTRY POINTS—INFILTRATING FROM BOTH ABOVE AND BELOW YOUR CURRENT FLOOR LEVEL."

Soon enough, I hear the distinctive mechanical sounds, the harsh scraping of metal against stone, the sharp shattering of glass as the enemy forcibly enters through multiple windows.

They're deliberately avoiding creating a single bottleneck entry point, smart…

I spin, unsheathing Wilt in a single perfectly executed arc and slice cleanly through one of the crawler robots that was mid-leap, attempting to ambush me from my rear. The two bisected halves clatter separately to the floor, internal systems sparking violently and twitching erratically before the chassis explodes.

But I don't waste more time admiring my work. I deliberately loosen my grip slightly to allow Wilt to spin naturally in my hand, smoothly reversing the blade's orientation, and execute a precise backwards stab without looking. The blade punches straight through another unit that had been approaching rapidly from my back. It goes immediately limp, sliding heavily off my blade as I yank free my weapon.

Only then do I finally get a proper look at these robots.

Indeed, they look like the standard Atlesian Knight in their basic white and blue Atlas military color scheme and general humanoid structure, but their limbs have been modified. Instead of normal hands, each limb ends in sharp claws, clearly designed for climbing and close-quarters combat. Their feet have been replaced entirely with more animalistic digitigrade legs.

Pod was right.

I glance upward and notice at least six more of these crawlers across the ceiling like spiders, their claws gripping the ceiling ready to pounce.

I can't help but let out a short chuckle at their basic tactics.

I charge forward, closing the distance before they can coordinate their assault. My blade becomes a blur as I systematically cut through them. One slash severs the legs completely, sending it crashing helplessly down to the floor. A spinning follow-through strike bisects another crawler mid-descent, its halves separating cleanly. A precise upward cut catches a third unit attempting to leap away to safety, splitting it vertically from groin to head.

These knights are still falling considerably behind when matched against Huntsmen in direct combat, ultimately predictable.

Then another unit attempts a diving attack, launching itself directly at me with extended razor-sharp claws aimed for my throat and chest.

I simply reach up with my cybernetic arm and catch it effortlessly mid-leap, clamping around its neck. The machine struggles frantically in my iron grip, its claws flailing wildly and scraping desperately against my prosthetic arm in a futile attempt to break free or cause any damage.

Unceremoniously I pivot my entire body weight and smash the machine violently downward against the solid floor. The crawler unit shatters completely on contact, exploding into dozens of sparking electronic components that scatter dramatically across the floor in all directions.

I straighten up slowly, scanning the immediate area for any additional threats.

"Is that all of them?" I ask Pod.

Almost immediately on cue, Brutus lets out a roar from below—unmistakably triumphant rather than distressed.

Ah, so the rest ended up discovering him and were wiped out.

"NEGATIVE, COMMANDER. THE REMAINING HALF ARE APPROACHING THE BUILDING PERIMETER IN ORGANIZED FORMATION. ADDITIONALLY, TRANSPORT BULLHEAD IS ACTIVELY DROPPING REINFORCED ARMORED CONTAINERS."

Containers? What the hell are they deploying now? 

"Pod, send me a visual feed immediately."

“UNDERSTOOD."

An image materializes in my vision. Behind the steadily advancing formation of standard Atlesian forces, three reinforced containers have been deliberately crash-landed into the debris-strewn street, leaving small craters.

Then, mere moments later, the heavy container doors violently explode outward in rapid succession, leaving thick trails of acrid chemical smoke billowing heavily into the air and obscuring visibility.

Shortly after the smoke clears, three humanoid figures emerge slowly from the containers, moving with distinctly erratic, twitching movements that seem barely controlled.

Three... people, if they can even remotely be called that anymore after whatever was done to them. All three are dragging long, segmented metallic whips crackling with electrical energy where their arms and hands should naturally be said weapons appearing to be grotesquely integrated directly into their bodies. Their heads have been completely replaced with smooth, featureless helmets covered in dozens of thick cables that snake obscenely across their heavily scarred, overdeveloped muscular bodies. They move with disturbing jerky, unnatural motions.

"COMMANDER, IDENTIFICATION COMPLETE THEY ARE CONFIRMED CYBERPSYCHOS CURRENTLY IN A CHEMICALLY-INDUCED DORMANT STATE. RESTRAINT CHEMICALS APPEAR TO BE FADING RAPIDLY."

My eyes widened at hearing that confirmation.

Because that explains all those corpses I found in these ruins—those weren't unfortunate Huntsmen-in-training or foolish scavengers. Those were previous cyberpsychos that Atlas sent here and simply abandoned after use. That means Atlas is still actively using these broken people as disposable weapons, unleashing them on their enemies and letting them rampage uncontrollably until they're either destroyed by their targets or by Grimm.

"COMMANDER, I HAVE SUCCESSFULLY INTERCEPTED ENEMY COMMUNICATIONS CHANNEL. THEY HAVE DEPLOYED THE CYBERPSYCHO UNITS SPECIFICALLY AS A DELAYING AND DISTRACTION TACTIC WHILE THEY REGROUP. THEY HAVE DISPATCHED A SPECIALIZED HEAVY RESPONSE TEAM WELL EQUIPPED COMING DIRECTLY TO YOUR POSITION. ETA: TEN MINUTES."

This is still fucked up. Using cyberpsychos as attack dogs. How many more of these poor bastards does Atlas have stored away in their facilities across Remnant? 

Most importantly, are these people forcibly turned or they just grabbed an already sick person?

Better not think about it.

I'm not particularly worried about fighting them, I know that I'll win without much problem. But it's more about the implications of what Atlas is doing, how long can this go? 

However, I won’t fight them here and now. There are more Atlesian forces coming, and I refuse to be pinned down by cannon fodder and forced to repeat the same fatal mistake that got me killed on that train.

A retreat is the best course of action, especially since I've achieved an objective.

Yet my attention is pulled when a chorus of strong inhuman shrieks echo through the ruins, quite similar to the shrieking I heard a long time ago, expressing the same incoherent rage.

"WARNING: CYBERPSYCHOS HAVE ENTERED FRENZY STATE AND ARE RUSHING DIRECTLY TOWARDS YOUR POSITION. ANALYSIS CHEMICAL RESTRAINTS HAVE BEEN DEACTIVATED."

Expected, loud as possible to get as much attention as possible..

I simply turn around and jump down through a hole in the floor, dropping through a few levels before landing at the ground level where Brutus has been waiting for my return, wagging his tail obviously.

Adorable little bugger.

Although he's surrounded by dozens of destroyed Atlesian Knights, their broken mechanical bodies scattered across the floor—crushed, bitten, torn apart. The proto-ork looks very pleased with himself and his work, his tongue lolling out happily.

"Good boy. Come on, we're leaving," I praise, patting a side of his soft belly.

Finding a flat surface I open a portal but first must relay new orders.

"Pod, stay and gather as much data as possible about Atlas presence," I mount Brutus. "Continue monitoring that channel even and kill the signal if you feel compromised. I want to know what they're really doing in Mountain Glenn."

"UNDERSTOOD."

That’s when I hear the shrieking growing progressively louder and clearer, accompanied by the violent sound of their electrified whips striking at something, probably doing so in blind rage

I will fight them another time and end their miserable existence.

Now is time to go.

-----------------------------------------------------

I'm back in Kuo Kuana, but rather than being at my office, I'm in the Belladonna Manor's basement—a secure location where Sienna and I can speak more privately without concern about eavesdropping or unwanted interruptions.

"Cyberpsychos?!" Sienna's voice rises sharply as she practically collapses into the chair, a hand pressed against her forehead in disbelief.

"There's no doubt about it," I confirm, gesturing to Pod.

Pod projects the images of the aberrations I encountered at Mountain Glenn, the same twisted, grotesque figures that barely resemble their original human forms anymore.

Sienna stares at the projections with visible disgust that slowly morphs into horror. "Is this... is this really that surprising?" Her voice wavers slightly. "I mean, we knew Atlas was capable of, but this..."

I consider her question carefully. "Yes and no. We all heard persistent rumors about Atlas corporations' complete lack of ethics before we lost the Atlas front, didn't we? The question was how far they'd actually go."

She nods slowly, her expression darkening with each passing second. "There were whispers from our contacts, yes. And honestly, it shouldn't come as a complete shock to either of us—their MAX-TAC units are essentially highly functional cyberpsychos." She pauses, and I can see the moment realization hits her about what they did to me. "Or when they stream how they slowly tortured the psychos for public entertainment. Like some kind of sick gladiatorial spectacle."

Her hand unconsciously moves to her stomach.

Sienna takes another long look at the images. "That's absolutely disgusting. Inhuman. I can only feel pity for these people—nobody deserves that kind of fate, regardless of what they might have done."

"They were expendable assets," I state coldly. "Deployed specifically to keep me occupied and tied down in combat while their reinforcements arrived to finish the job."

"Adam..." Sienna's voice takes on a concern. "What if they're turning our people into these things? What if they're tricking desperate Faunus into predatory contracts or forcing them to sign away their lives just to eliminate debts?" Her eyes meet mine. "We both know how desperate some of our people are in Atlas. How easily they could be exploited."

I had considered that possibility extensively. "It's a valid concern and one we should move to monitor closely. However, you remember that Faunus in Atlas represent a minority population, and most are carefully tracked through their discriminatory registration systems. Some branches of the government would notice if large numbers started disappearing."

They would probably think of insurgency meetings or criminal activity and track them down to arrest them and would accidentally stumble on the corporation's work. It would still work in our favor, even as racist or degrading one could be against another there was always a line nobody would cross.

I turn to Pod. "Analysis?"

"NEGATIVE, COMMANDER. COMPREHENSIVE ANALYSIS OF THE THREE CYBERPSYCHOS ENCOUNTERED AT MOUNTAIN GLENN CONFIRMED ALL SUBJECTS WERE HUMAN. NO FAUNUS MARKERS DETECTED IN MY SCANS."

Sienna visibly relaxes, her shoulders dropping as she exhales a breath she'd been holding. "Thank the gods for small mercies. At least they're not targeting our people specifically..."

I know how that feels so even I don’t want humans to go through that.

"That doesn't change the danger they represent to our current and future operations," I counter, bringing her focus back to reality. "Atlas can deploy these aberrations anywhere with minimal logistical support. Picture this scenario: a fast-moving Bullhead flies overhead at high altitude and simply drops an entire squad of these things directly onto our positions. Or worse—onto a civilian settlement."

Her expression hardens again. "That would be... catastrophic. It would completely overwhelm any conventional defense. These things would tear through civilians like they were nothing."

"Exactly," I confirm grimly. "I'm not underestimating our people's courage or abilities, but these units are augmented on multiple levels—massively enhanced physical strength, reinforced skeletal structure, combat stimulant, complete pain suppression, dramatically accelerated reflexes and reaction times. Unless everyone in our defensive forces was a trained Huntsman, or at absolute minimum had unlocked their Aura for protection, they wouldn't stand a realistic chance in close-quarters against even a single one of these things."

Obviously not everyone that fall to the psychosis are the same but these ones used as weapons would be pumped up with new or untested military hardware.

Sienna rubs her temples. "Something we need to seriously consider and plan countermeasures for immediately. We just never properly considered this specific threat since..." She trails off.

Since Faunus in general don't have access to augmentations. They aren't cheap to begin with, and most of our people can barely afford basic necessities, let alone expensive cybernetic enhancements. Humans on the other hand have more opportunity to get access to them, even loans.

But we are drifting too much.

"Pod, display the Dragoon’s wreckage."

The holographic image shifts to show the tetrapod war machine—or more accurately, the burning, twisted wreck of what used to be an Atlas Dragoon.

"An Atlas Dragoon?" Sienna leans forward with renewed interest. "Those are supposed to be one of their most advanced and strongest war machines. Their propaganda exploded even more after that train incident."

"It was surprisingly straightforward to destroy once I identified a fatal flaw," I explain matter-of-factly. "One well-placed shot to compromise their leg joint, and it collapsed into that flaming wreck you're seeing. The hydraulic fluids ruptured, it caught fire almost immediately, and everything started failing."

Sienna raises her eyebrows with obvious skepticism. "You make destroying a multi-million lien war machine sound simple, Adam. Almost routine."

Rather than launch into a lengthy scientific explanation with details and explain my assumptions about the possible design, I simply retrieve the anti-materiel rifle from the pocket dimension, pretending I’m retrieving it from under the table, placing the heavy weapon on the table between us.

The weapon speaks for itself.

Sienna stares at the rifle for a long moment. Then she looks back at the holographic wreckage, then at me with newfound understanding. "A rifle... just a rifle taking out one of these machines still seems almost too good to be true. What makes this weapon so special?"

I suppress a chuckle and retrieve a single round from my pocket, holding it up between us so she can examine it.

A 20mm armor-piercing round, unmistakably lethal.

Sienna's eyes widen as she takes in the size of the ammunition. "That's... that's not a bullet. That's practically a small missile." She reaches out carefully, and I hand it to her. "How many of these did you use?"

"Just one," I answered. "One shot, one kill. The Dragoon's armor is impressive against conventional weapons, but it wasn't designed to withstand this kind of firepower."

They were made to take out tanks and other armored vehicles after all.

She turns the round over in her hand. "If we could produce these weapons... if our forces had access to this kind of firepower..."

It would give us an edge.

"That's part of why I'm showing you this," I confirm, as part of my plan when fighting the Atlesian forces, to test that weapon's effectiveness in the field. "We need to start thinking bigger about our military firepower, not just numbers.  And now that our enemy is deploying cyberpsychos as shock troops and advanced war machines. We need to respond with our own force multipliers."

Sienna sets the round down carefully on the table. "You really did destroy an Atlas Dragoon single-handedly. I knew you were capable, but this..." She shakes her head slightly, admiration coloring her voice. "The White Fang is lucky to have you leading us, Adam. I'm lucky to—" She catches herself mid-sentence. "Well, once the advanced foundry is complete, we could start looking into producing weapons like this for our forces."

"COMMANDER, I POSSESS COMPLETE MANUFACTURING BLUEPRINTS FOR THE ANTI-MATERIAL RIFLE AND ITS COMPONENTS. THE ADVANCED FOUNDRY WOULD INDEED BE CAPABLE OF PRODUCING THE PRIMARY STRUCTURAL ELEMENTS AND BARREL ASSEMBLY. HOWEVER, CURRENT ANALYSIS INDICATES WE STILL LACK SEVERAL SPECIALIZED MATERIALS—SPECIFICALLY HIGH-GRADE CHROMIUM ALLOYS FOR THE BARREL LINING AND TUNGSTEN COMPOUNDS FOR ARMOR-PIERCING CORES. ADDITIONALLY, WE WOULD REQUIRE PRECISION MACHINING FACILITIES BEYOND THE FOUNDRY'S CURRENT SPECIFICATIONS." Pod's voice cuts through the moment.

Nothing is ever straightforward or easy.

But well we are still at the initial stages of industry, it was too soon to produce something of this level and complexity. But hearing the limitations laid out so plainly still disappoints me.

"Well, we just have to keep expanding and building our kingdom." I say.

"Our kingdom?" Sienna's eyebrows raise slightly, and I can see the amusement dancing in her amber eyes.

"Yes, our kingdom." I still confirm it.

Sienna's expression shifts, a mischievous glint replacing her earlier professionalism. She rises from her chair and approaches me, her movements trying to show off grace before she settles herself comfortably onto my lap, her arms draping around my neck.

"Is that so?" she purrs, her voice taking on a playful, teasing tone which is surprising coming from this woman.

Although, I find it amusing more than anything. Still, two can play this game, and I have much more experience than her.

Without warning, I lean in and stop her plans with a simple peck on her lips.

"Don't try to tease me, Sienna," I whisper close to her. "You'll end up losing more often than not."

Before she can think of a response, I swiftly shift my grip, lifting her body and pulling her into a proper embrace so her back rests comfortably against my chest. Then I lean down and gently bite her feline ear—not hard enough to hurt, just enough pressure to trigger that adorable response of hers.

Sienna melts against me, a deep, involuntary purr rumbling from her chest as her entire body relaxes. Her hands grip my arm almost possessively.

She stays there for several long moments, nuzzling against me with complete contentment, the fierce woman to a purring, affectionate girl in my arms.

Then reality reasserts itself, and she seems to remember where we are and what we were discussing. Sienna quickly—though somewhat reluctantly—extracts herself from my arms, standing and straightening her robes with as much dignity as she can muster.

She clears her throat, her cheeks carrying a noticeable flush. "I... apologize. That was unprofessional of me." Her voice attempts to reclaim its authoritative tone, which only makes me roll my eyes as she is full intent in keeping that up. "I allowed myself to become... distracted, again."

Despite her words, I can see the joy in her eyes and the way her ears flicker.

"Though," she adds, unable to completely suppress a small smile as she scratches her cheek, "you certainly proved your point about winning that particular game."

"A game? I thought you would be having an important strategic meeting down here." Kali's teasing voice drifts down from the stairs, causing us both to freeze. "Oh, don't stop on my account. You two should play a little more—you were just getting to the interesting part. I was quite invested in seeing how it would develop."

Sienna lets out an undignified, spinning around to find Kali calmly descending the stairs, a knowing grin spread across her face as she carries a tray laden with tea cups and a steaming pot.

"K-Kali! I—we weren't—this isn't—" Sienna stammers desperately, trying to salvage some semblance of her dignity, her face flushing an even deeper shade of  red as her ears flatten against her head.

Kali just continues walking down the stairs without any particular hurry, clearly savoring every moment of Sienna's discomfort. She sets the tea tray on the table with deliberate care, right next to the weapon, creating an almost comical contrast. Then she turns to face us both, her mischievous smile growing.

"Sienna, dear," Kali says, her tone shifting to that of a patient teacher explaining something to a struggling student, "if you're going to attempt to seduce someone—especially the father of your child—you need to commit to it properly and with conviction. These half-hearted attempts won't get you anywhere."

"I wasn't—I didn't mean to—" Sienna protests weakly, but Kali waves her objections away with an elegant dismissive hand.

"First of all," Kali continues, moving closer and pulling another chair to demonstrate, "when you position yourself in his lap, you need to be more... intimate about it. Like this—" She proceeds to demonstrate the proper posture on the chair. "See? Closer contact, better pose. And you absolutely must maintain direct eye contact throughout. Eye contact is crucial for establishing dominance."

What exactly is happening right now? This cannot be real.

"Then, you need to use your natural advantages. You're a rare Bengal tiger Faunus, Sienna—that's incredibly exotic and appealing. Use that to your benefit!" Kali's enthusiasm is almost infectious.. "A little purring at the right moments, some well-timed ear flicks to draw attention, maybe brush against him in seemingly innocent ways that aren't innocent at all." She pauses thoughtfully. "Oh, and your stripes! Don't forget about those, they are very exotic!"

Sienna looks like she wants the floor to open up and swallow her whole, her hands covering her increasingly red face. "Kali, please stop talking—Adam is right there listening to every word!"

"Exactly my point!" Kali says brightly. "He should know precisely what you're doing so he can properly appreciate the effort you're putting in. Communication is key in any successful relationship, especially one producing my grandchild." She turns to me with an expression of perfect innocence that doesn't match her bold words at all. "Don't you agree, Adam? Shouldn't partners be completely honest about their intentions?"

I know Kali can be mischievous at times, especially how she likes to tease the shipgirls relentlessly during their cultural lessons, much to their flustered confusion. But I've never seen her take her teasing to quite this extent.

"Mother," I finally manage, using the familial title on purpose, "what exactly are you doing here?"

"Teaching, obviously," Kali responds matter-of-factly, rising from her chair and beginning to pour tea as if she hadn't just been teaching Sienna how to seduce me better. "Sienna is carrying my grandchild, Adam. My first grandchild! The absolute least I can do is ensure she knows how to properly maintain your interest and affection throughout the years." She hands Sienna a delicate cup of tea with a warm smile that contrasts sharply with her previous teasing. "Besides, watching her fumble around so adorably is extraordinarily entertaining. You should have seen your face just moments ago, dear— priceless. I wish I'd had a camera."

Sienna accepts the cup with trembling hands, still not recovering from the embarrassment. "I hate you both right now," she mutters darkly into her tea, though there's no real venom in her voice.

"No, you don't, sweetheart," Kali replies softly, settling into a chair and crossing her legs. "You're just embarrassed, which is perfectly natural and quite endearing. Now then, shall we actually discuss the important matters you mentioned earlier, or would you prefer I continue with lesson two?" Her eyes gleam with mischief again. "I have some excellent, detailed advice about maintaining intimacy during pregnancy—"

"IMPORTANT MATTERS!" Sienna interrupts with almost panicked volume, her voice nearly cracking from the strain. "We should definitely, absolutely discuss urgent strategies, expansion plans, or literally anything else! Right now! Immediately! Please!"

I can't help but let out a laugh at the entire absurd situation, even if Kali actions caught me off guard the results are still good ones.

Kali nods. "Oh, very well. But we're definitely continuing this conversation later, Sienna. There's so much you still need to learn, and I have years of experience to share." She takes a delicate sip of her own tea. "After all, how do you think-"

"Kali!"

"I'm just saying, dear—results speak for themselves."

It is difficult to believe that months ago they were at each other's throats.

"COMMANDER. RELEVANT INFORMATION REGARDING THE ADVANCED FOUNDRY CONSTRUCTION JUST ARRIVED: ESTIMATED COMPLETION TIME HAS BEEN REDUCED BY 23%."

Pod suddenly speaks up.

"Oh!" Kali startles slightly, her hand going to her chest as she notices the drone floating nearby. "I didn't even see you there, Pod. How long have you been listening?" She reaches out and gently pets the top of his blocky form, her fingers running along the smooth metallic surface.

"GRATITUDE CONFIRMED. YOUR AFFINITY WITH THIS POD UNIT HAS RISEN" 

The woman just chuckles.

"THIS POD UNIT HAS BEEN PRESENT FOR THE ENTIRE DURATION OF THE CURRENT MEETING, INCLUDING THE EDUCATIONAL SEGMENT REGARDING INTERPERSONAL RELATIONSHIP DYNAMICS."

Sienna makes a strangled sound into her tea cup.

"Wonderful!" 

Sienna buries her face in her hands. "This day just keeps getting worse."

More like better.

------------------------------------------------------

-Nines, Vale-

Nines checked her tablet as she walked across Vale's evening streets alongside Yang, who maintained her characteristically laid-back stride, hands casually tucked into her jacket pockets.

"So, you find them yet or what?" Yang asked, glancing sideways at her partner.

"Yes, I've located the meeting point," Nines confirmed, her eyes still focused on the screen. "I'm currently accessing their security network to determine cameras and alarms."

Beacon Academy did not  sanction this impromptu operation. The whole situation had started when Ruby accidentally stumbled upon a local gang's territory because she wanted to buy some supplies cheaper, and the thugs had been... less than courteous to the young leader. What should have been a simple case of reporting the incident to authorities had instead evolved into team RYNW deciding to handle matters more directly since they didn’t want to deal with gangsters jumping at them as some sort of pathetic revenge every time for kicking their butts.

Also, dealing with gangsters would earn some reward money.

Weiss had protested vehemently, of course, citing Academy regulations and proper procedures. But team democracy had spoken, and the motion passed three-to-one. The heiress had come along anyway, grumbling, while making increasingly transparent excuses about needing to ensure "nobody makes an absolute mess of this debacle."

In truth, they'd all needed a break. Mid-terms were only a week away, and after days of intensive studying, even Weiss couldn't deny the appeal of blowing off some steam—even if she'd never admit it aloud.

"There!" Nines announced, stopping abruptly as her tablet's screen populated with multiple camera feeds.

The display showed numerous angles inside the gang's hideout—a converted warehouse that had seen better days. Scattered throughout the space were at least two dozen gangsters, most of them lounging around idly, smoking, playing cards, or engaging in aggressive posturing. Their weapons were visible but not immediately accessible, suggesting they felt secure in their territory.

"Damn, that's always impressive, Nines," Yang said, peering over her partner's shoulder at the surveillance feeds. "You just hacked all those cameras like it was nothing."

"Thank you," Nines replied, a hint of satisfaction in her voice as she continued analyzing the layout. "Their security was too lax."

Yang cracked her knuckles with anticipation, her lilac eyes gleaming. "So... guns blazing?"

Nines looked up from her tablet, meeting Yang's gaze with a matching grin. "Guns blazing."

"Oi, sis!" Yang practically shouted into her scroll, her excitement barely contained. "We're going guns blazing!"

"ARE YOU CRAZY?!" Weiss's outraged voice crackled through the device before she apparently wrestled the scroll away from Ruby. "This is exactly the kind of reckless—"

"YEP!" Yang laughed unapologetically, her grin widening.

There was a brief scuffle on the other end, followed by Ruby's enthusiastic voice. "Sure thing, Yang! You and Nines take the lead!"

"Wait, Ruby, give that back—we need to—Ruby!" Weiss's protests faded into resigned frustration.

Yang pumped her fists together, her prosthetic arm gleaming under the streetlights. "Alright, time to teach these assholes some manners and get paid." She strode confidently toward the warehouse, each step radiating barely contained violence.

Nines fell into step beside her. As they approached, she accessed the local network again, this time targeting specific signals. Several of the gang members possessed basic cybernetic implants—crude augmentations compared to Yang's prosthetic, but functional enough to enhance their firepower a little.

'Excellent practice,' Nines thought, her fingers moving across her tablet's interface as she began the intrusion sequence. Her consciousness extended into the digital space, identifying vulnerable systems and establishing backdoor access. Within moments, she'd compromised three separate neural interfaces and two ocular enhancement systems.

One order and she would… disable hostiles.

"Ready when you are, partner," 

Yang cracked her neck, her Ember Celica gauntlets gleaming as she activated them. "Oh, I was born ready. Let's crash this party."