Sunday, the 26th of July, 79AGW.

Mistral Station, Mistral.

Lima dragged his bag up onto his shoulder and then slipped off the top bunk to drop to the floor of the cabin. He drew himself upright, spun until his back was to the door and gave the cabin a quick look over for anything he might have left behind. The P.A system rang out for a second time, repeating the same message.

"We have now arrived in Mistral. Please ensure that you have all of your possessions when you leave," A pleasant voice said, "Thank you all for choosing the Mistral Limited for your cross-continental needs. We hope to see all of you again soon."

Lima stepped backwards and used his heel to kick the door open—he turned as he crossed the threshold and had to immediately stop as he came face to face with Jaune, the boy's own bag over his shoulder. The taller boy was wearing a strained expression, lip caught between his teeth as he tried to keep a straight face. Pyrrha stood beside him, hand rubbing the blonde boy's back.

"You alright, man?" Lima asked.

"I'm fine," Jaune said before rubbing at his face. "We've got about five minutes to get over to the Argus Limited."

"I'll see you guys off," Lima said, nodding at the doors. "Come on."

He led them off the train before crossing the station to the other side, they flashed their tickets to the guy checking them, and then they came back over to say goodbye.

"This trip was fun," Lima said, clapping Jaune on the shoulder. "It was nice getting to hang out with you guys; we're all kind of team-centric back at Beacon, aren't we?"

Jaune dragged him into a hug, and Lima laughed as he patted the guy on the back. The station's P.A. system rang out with a departure message for the Argus Limited, and Jaune pulled back.

"We'll definitely change that after the break," Jaune said, sniffing.

"You got it, big guy," Lima said before grinning. "Pawpaw—hug."

Pyrrha stepped forward at the request, the proximity showing the height disparity between the two of them—she was definitely one of the tallest girls in their year, with only Savannah really giving her any competition.

"Lima," Pyyrha murmured, "Make sure you return to Beacon safely."

"Same to you," Lima said, "I'd hate to have to win the Vytal Festival Tournament without a real challenge."

Lima gave the end of her ponytail a playful tug, and Pyyrha reached back to catch hold of it before sweeping it forward over her shoulder in an effort to protect it from further attack. Lima pulled back with a laugh, and when he caught sight of her face, there was a streak of something competitive in her eyes. Pyrrha opened her mouth to reply when the P.A system gave a final departure call. Jaune steered her back through the doors before they could close. Lima caught a glimpse of red passing by the window and out of sight.

"That was the Invincible Girl," Sage said as the Argus Limited began to pull out of the station. "Bit taller than she was back at Sanctum, isn't she?"

Lima blew a breath out of his nose at the voice and then turned around, catching sight of Sage and Midori.

"Hey," Lima said, breathing out. "I didn't realise you were coming to meet me here."

Midori swept forward, dragging him into a hug, and he found himself a bit overwhelmed by it all. Lima reached up to wipe his eyes and aborted the motion as he caught sight of Sage grinning at him. Damn.

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Tuesday, the 28th of July, 79AGW.

Midori's Home, Mistral.

"There's this guy called Peter Port teaching Grimm Studies," Lima said, sitting cross-legged on the kitchen bench. "The guy is an absolute beast."

"Think I've heard that name before," Sage said, knife working to cube some steak.

"He's probably in his fifties? So he's had plenty of time to get a reputation," Lima nodded, "He told us this story about his first encounter with a Grimm—a Beowulf tried to kidnap some girl from their village."

"I've seen Grimm do some strange things over the years, but that's a new one," Sage said, frowning. "Did he have his Aura unlocked?"

"Yeah, but he had no real training. He tracked it down with a woodcutters axe and managed to mess it up pretty bad," Lima said, leaning back on his hands. "He dragged it back to the village afterwards, which is also pretty weird, considering they usually dissipate if there too damaged to move."

"Must have thought it could still escape somehow if it played dead. Rule of thumb, the older a Grimm, the weirder things get," Sage said, nodding. "Too many conflicting instincts learned, behaviours, and heuristics clashing together—can't wrap my head around it abducting someone, though."

"Me either," Lima admitted, "He runs these hunting sessions on the weekends, takes a bunch of students out into the forest to keep the Grimm population low."

"Perks of the landscape surrounding Beacon," Sage said, gesturing with the knife. "Couldn't pull that off here unless we could get Lionheart's go-ahead to take students on a day trip—which definitely isn't happening any time soon."

The name sparked something in his mind, and Lima found himself wanting to tell the man everything the Ozpin had revealed to him in the message. He held back, the warning fresh in his mind, and then frowned as his previous good mood crashed down around him.

"Lionheart?" Lima wondered. "That's the Headmaster at Haven, isn't it?"

"That's the one; Leonardo Lionheart," Sage said, "He's a good man and a stellar record of missions as a Huntsman under his belt—seems a bit jumpy these days, though."

"Jumpy? Shouldn't he be a killing machine?" Lima wondered. "I kind of want to meet him now."

"Headmaster's out of the city and won't be back for a week or so he says," Sage offered, "I'll take you up to see the school when he gets back, and you can meet him then."

That was probably good news; if the guy wasn't in Mistral right now, then it was the perfect time to knock Ozpin's task out of the way.

"Cool," Lima said, "Our guy is kind of boring, honestly. He just walks around drinking hot chocolate all the time."

"Hm. I remember meeting Ozpin once—must have been a decade ago, at least," Sage said, humming. "Is he still dragging that cane around with him?"

"Yeah. What's that about anyway?" Lima frowned, "The guy doesn't even have a limp—think he's faking it for some kind of insurance payout?"

Sage snorted.

"It might be a family heirloom," Sage said, shaking his head, "I know a guy who was running around with his mum's weapon half a century later—well, knew, I guess; he actually got caught out on a mission about a month ago."

"Fucking Grimm," Lima sighed.

"They've been coming out of the woodwork lately, and the Hunters are dropping like flies," Sage grunted, "I was talking to Lionheart about it the other day. He reckons it's the civvies not knowing how to accurately detail a Grimm sighting, so all the missions are getting mislabelled. We're going to start setting up semi-permanent scout groups again, or at least send some Hunters out to do some workshops on reporting."

Lima frowned at the information.

"Is that public knowledge?" Lima wondered. "Mistral will see even more Grimm attacks if everyone starts thinking about it."

"The Huntsman and Huntresses know," Sage nodded, "Been keeping it from the general public though for that exact reason—but it's not a perfect solution. Hunters have families, and when they fall off the perch, the family starts wondering what's happened to them, you know?"

"How bad is it, exactly?" Lima said, hesitating. "I don't like the thought of Midori being somewhere unprotected."

"Neither do I," Sage said, nodding. "Lionheart thinks we've lost about fifteen percent of our veteran force in the last year, although a lot of those were starting to age out."

"Fucking hell," Lima said, alarmed.

"Yeah, that was my reaction too when I finally got a hold of the numbers—not an easy task, I'll tell you that," Sage said, shaking his head. "The Mistral Council is working with Lionheart to start fixing the issues, but it's a country-wide thing spread out across dozens of cities, so a lot of people need to be brought on board to actually get shit done."

"That's why Lionhearts up and vanished?" Lima guessed.

"That's what he told me before he left," Sage nodded, "He's starting to look a bit ragged, honestly. The stress of the job's getting to him."

"I bet," Lima muttered.

"I've been using Midori's bar as a barometer," Sage said with a sigh, "It's starting to look like a ghost town—you better hurry up and graduate already, Lima, cause Mistral is going to need all the Huntsmans and Huntresses it can get."

#

Saturday, the 1st of August, 79AGW.

Mistral Below, Mistral.

Lima continued his journey downwards, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoody. It was weird being back in Mistral after so long. Everything was in the same place, more or less, but almost nothing looked like it did back when he was little. There were new buildings everywhere, near foundations, platforms and complexes that hadn't existed.

Haven, high above, looked just as much a marvel as it had back then, perched atop the twin peaks. He remembered thinking about Haven falling down on all of their heads in the middle of the night, but it seemed to have managed the years pretty well. The stone steps stretched upwards, wrapping around the mountain and taking a winding path to the top, bisecting all the different parts of the city as it went.

Lima left the stairs behind, continuing his slow amble into what was probably the most rundown-looking part of the entire city. The massive elevator that bridged the bottom and top halfs of the city rose up above, heading directly for Haven. That's generally how the city worked, with the extravagant, larger and more expensive buildings near the top, far out of reach of the Grimm. The lower sections of the city—colloqeually known as Mistral Below—however, weren't quite as well off, even if they were safely tucked behind walls, defences, and its apparently dwindling defenders.

He'd left his Scroll at the house, not willing to bring it with him given the apparent lack of security they had. Ozpin's words had been clear, and if whoever he was worried about could see messages, they'd be able to access any photos and video recordings as well. Lima spotted the first house he was supposed to investigate, and stopped in front of it for a moment, frowning.

What was probably once a home was now a blackened mess of charcoal, burned debris, and faded yellow tape. It had clearly been this way for a while, a month at a minimum, but how much more than that, he couldn't know. Nobody had attempted to clear the mess up or start to rebuild, though, so it probably wasn't too long.

"Hey, kid," Lima said, snagging a Faunus by the shirt collar. "What happened here?"

"Oi," The kid cried, struggling against the hold. "Let me go, you big dummy."

"I'll pay you," Lima said, letting go.

"You will?" He said, impressed.

Lima jerked his head at the burned mess of a home to direct his attention toward it and the question he'd asked.

"It burned down," The kid said, nodding once.

"No shit," Lima laughed, "When?"

"Uh," The kid said, "April?"

"Any idea what caused it?" Lima prompted, dragging his wallet out of his pocket. "Rumours is fine."

"My mum said the woman left her stove on overnight," The kid frowned before hesitating. "I think she died?"

Lima nodded at the answer before slipping a stack of Lien out of his wallet and handing it over to the kid—he grinned at the plastic cards and gave him a wave of thanks before taking off. Lima wasn't willing to go inside the partially collapsed building because he'd have to ruin the tape to do it, and he'd probably end up covered in the black mess that would give away exactly what he'd been doing to anyone that was looking. There wasn't really anything else he could learn, though. He'd have to ask Midori and Sage if they'd heard about a fire in April, just to make sure the kid hadn't just finessed him out of a thousand Lien. He gave it one more look before continuing on.

#

The second house was no better than the first as far as information gathering went. There had been a fore-sale sign plastered on the front door of the building. It had been easy to see from the outside that the entire place was empty and had been thoroughly cleaned in preparation for its sale—the third and last house, however, was an entirely different story.

It was locked, curtains drawn, and when he'd jumped the back fence, he'd found that all of the furniture was still inside. Lima cupped his hands over the back sliding glass door, squinting in an attempt to see inside; when that failed, he pressed his ear to the glass. A minute of listening told him that there was nobody inside, and then he hesitated before reaching down to the handle.

He reached for his Semblance, changing the direction of the hook holding it close, and unlatched it. Lima carefully slid it open, listening once more, but when nothing happened, he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

Lima remained in place directly in front of the sliding glass door, scanning the room from his position, and almost immediately noted a dozen or so gouges—in the walls, the floor, the ceiling, the top of the kitchen table, and a single deep puncture mark right on the backside of the front door. The air was stale, but he couldn't detect any scent of blood. Instead, there was a chemical stench that made him frown.

He strode across the room, stopping at the threshold between the kitchen and the lounge room. Directly across from him was a tiny wooden stand coated in black lacquer, the section right at the top where something had once been once empty. His eyes fell on a cabinet next, a series of picture frames sitting on the top of it, facing the room. Most of the pictures were taken outside, with the exception of two of them showing a smiling woman standing in the same house Lima was currently in.

Lima spun slowly in place, taking note of each mark. He could almost see how the damage progressed. Starting at the kitchen table, a two-inch wide section of it had been sliced off and was now resting against the legs of the chair. There was a puncture mark on the seat of the chair, now neatly tucked under the table. A hole in the ceiling spoke of a foot trying to find purchase and punching through from the force of the impact.

Lima turned towards the end of the divider wall that had a large thick chunk torn out of it, a shallow puncture mark on the floor, where the chemical smell was almost overpowering. A hole in the wall by the door, about the height of his knees, had been torn outward like someone had clawed at it with their hand.

He turned towards the door, where the puncture mark was, almost all the way through the door, and for a moment, Lima could almost imagine the smiling woman sitting there, back against it, arm raised in an attempt to fend someone off—Lima swallowed, and turned away, eyes falling on the cabinet again.

Lima carefully crossed the room, taking note again of the empty, black-lacquered stand on his way past. He stopped in front of the cabinet and reached down, taking hold of the picture he'd seen before. The woman's bright smile twisted something in his chest, and he glanced over her shoulder at the background of the picture.

The black-lacquered stand was in plain view, and atop it sat a small bronze-coloured object, an orb that looked like it was made out of an intricate series of cogs, all interlocking in a display of beautiful craftsmanship. Lima replaced the picture exactly where he found it and then turned to look at the room again.

It was clear enough to him that something had happened here. Given the locked house, and the state of the inside, there had been a fight, and Lima had an uncomfortable feeling that at least one of the participants was now dead.

The puncture marks spoke of a stabbing weapon with a narrow tip that flared outwards, and the torn section of the divider told him that it was at least partially blunt. His first thought was a hammer with some kind of spike on one end.

Lima looked around one more time again, trying to find anything that might reveal something more, but there was nothing. He hesitated at the sliding glass door for a moment, staring at the black-lacquered stand before shaking his head. Lima relocked the door from the outside and then left the empty house behind.

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