Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Man, Lune had the wildest dream last night, she thought as consciousness slowly returned. First she was scammed by the travel agency she booked a tour guide from, next she was robbed by this tribe of bandits and had to fight Grimm to survive. It was such a silly dream, not to mention the weird voice in her head nagging her to fight. But everything is fine now. She gave a weak chuckle and turned onto her side.

The sunlight shines into her eyelids making her startled, her rabbit ears twitching against the pillow. She squinted against the morning light as it bled into her eyes.

Lune groaned and shoved her face into the pillow. She sniffed at the terrible smell invading her nose, why did everything smell like mildew and cheap detergent instead of her lavender air freshener?

"Hmn? Morning already...?" she groaned, voice filled with tiredness. Out of habit from years of early retail shifts, her body was already waking up despite her exhaustion. She stretched-

"OW! FUCK!" she yelped, eyes flew open. Her ankle throbbed like hell and her sock felt crusty.

Pain lanced through her right ankle. Lune jerked upright, heart suddenly pounding. The movement sent a fresh wave of agony radiating up her leg. She kicked off the thin blanket with her other foot, revealing she had slept fully clothed. Her boots were still on. Her jacket and scarf were stiff with dried blood.

With trembling fingers, she removed the boots and peeled back her sock. The fabric was red instead of white and stuck to her skin, pulling away with a disgusting rip to reveal an angry red bullet wound with dry skin around it, the edges crusted with blood and dirt.

Okay. Okay. This is fine! A hysterical giggle bubbled up in her throat. Wow, this dream is really committed to the bit! The pain even felt real too - the throbbing ache in her ankle, the sting of the healed frostbite cuts on her palms.

Pfftttttt, as if this-

THUD

Her elbow slammed into something cold and metallic. Lune started and looked for the source of the noise - a staff clattered to the floor, its crystal Dust core pulsing faintly and spinning. Oh, wow this dream was realistic. It was almost like she could feel and touch the objects around her. Ha ha, who would know she'd have such a vivid imagination. Maybe it's time to REALLY wake up. She closed her eyes and opened it again... only to find nothing changed. Her hands began to shake.

"GOOD MORNING, SLEEPYHEAD," the voice chirped. "DID YOU KNOW YOU SNORE? IT'S ADORABLE."

"AAAAHHHHHHH!" Lune screamed, scrambling backward until her spine hit the headboard.

"FULL OF ENERGY AREN'T YOU?"

"Y-you!" she panted, eyes looking around the room. "You're real?!" her hands shook. She stared at her ankle again, then her hands, then the staff laying on the ground. Her heart was beating wildly. Lune's hands flew to her ears, fingers tangling in her matted hair. "No no no no-"

"YES YES YES YES." the voice sang.

"This can't be happening." she pressed her palms against her eyelids. "I'm still asleep, or-"

"DON'T LIE TO YOURSELF NOW, LYING IS BAD FOR YOU." the voice interrupted.

Lune groaned, dragging herself off the bed, yanking off her blood-stained jacket and scarf as she stumbled toward the cracked mirror hanging over the broken sink. She braced her hands on the edge, staring at her reflection. It was still her... just a lot more unkempt, and rugged. Her ears drooped under their own weight. Was this what she looked like now? She thought she'd feel like someone else.

"…Oum, I look like shit."

The cold faucet groaned in protest as she twisted it. The water sputtered and then finally poured, splashing into the chipped basin. She cupped some in her hands and splashed it on her face.

"FEELING BETTER?"

"I'm taking a bath," she announced.

"THERE'S NO BATHTUB."

"A shower then." she kicked the broken sink. "Alone."

"AS YOU WISH." the voice fell silent as Lune walked towards the showerhead.

Lune let the water run down her face, dripping from her bangs, her ears twitching every time a drop hit the sensitive spot of her ears. She stood under the weak stream, letting the blood, mud and whatever clung to her skin and hair slowly loosened and slid down in thin, reddish trails. Her boots had left deep, filthy imprints on her socks. Her sleeves were sticky with sweat and gore.

She reached for the sad excuse of a bar soap on the ledge and tried to scrub, but her hands shook too much to hold it properly. It slipped, bounced off her foot, and fell into the rust-caked drain.

"Fucking-!" she hiccuped and slammed her fist against the cracked tile wall. "Fuck," she repeated, her voice cracking. Her bleeding hand trembled against the now broken mildewed tiles as the water slowly turned pink at her feet. "Fuck fuck fuck-" she stood there, hunched, letting the useless water stream over her head. Her breath hitched.

It wasn't a dream. It wasn't some messed-up nightmare. It fucking happened! The bandits. The pain. The Grimm. The driver. The voice. The gang. ALL OF IT! She didn't want this. She didn't ask for this!

A bitter sound came from her throat. It started small, just a weak exhale with a laugh stuck inside. Lune covered her mouth to try and stop it, teeth sinking into her knuckles to muffle the sound. Then again. And again. Until a broken wail escaped her throat. Her legs gave out without warning. She slid to the floor of the stall with a wet thud, the cold tile biting into her spine.

The first sob hit like a punch to the gut. Lune curled into herself as the water beat down on her hunched shoulders. "I was just - I just wanted to see nature!" she whispered. "I was supposed to relax, enjoy my break... not-"

Lune bit down on her lips, trying to not produce any more of those ugly sounds. But the water couldn't drown it out. Not the trembling and certainly not the heat behind her eyes. She pressed her forehead against the cold tile, ears drooping low, the weak spray of water pattering uselessly against her back.

She finally cried. There was no one to see. No customers, no coworkers, no annoying voice inside her head. No one to pretend in front of. So she let it out. Memories from yesterday came back to her at full force, she remembered the voice talking to her. "Shut up," she choked out. "Just... shut up. Please."

She cried until her voice was hoarse and her throat hurt. Until the water ran completely cold. Until her skin wrinkled from the water.

Lune pressed her forehead to the tile and stayed there until the water slowed to a drizzle. Eventually, when the shaking dulled and her chest no longer hurt from crying, Lune turned off the faucet. She dried herself with a threadbare towel and stepped out barefoot onto the cracked floor, breathing slowly through her nose.

Time to get this over with.

Half an hour later, after Lune finished her bath, she put back on her filthy clothes and cast an illusion over it. She didn't have a choice, she didn't have clean clothes right now. But the moment she gripped her staff and focused, the bloodstains, grime, and torn seams vanished beneath an illusion so seamless it fooled even her own nose. She couldn't feel the crust in her boots or the stickiness under her scarf. She conjured a floating mirror and stared at herself. Was this what the staff could do the whole time?

She then changed her appearance back to yesterday's and walked out of the inn, currently looking for breakfast. Her hair, once tangled and damp, now fell in a neat, short mop of black curls. Her rabbit ears tucked flat against her scalp, hidden beneath the illusion. Now, dressed in long grey oversized robes and bandaged properly, Lune sat at a tiny street-side noodle stall. Her hood was down. She didn't care now that her ears were hidden again under the veil of illusion the staff had granted her. No one bothered to give her a second glance as they minded their own business.

Lune walked aimlessly for a while, scanning signs and stalls, her stomach tight with hunger. Eventually, she found a small noodle shop, it was barely more than a crooked wooden counter squeezed between two faded storefronts. A kettle puffed steam behind the counter and the scent of soy and pork bone broth clung to the air.

She went in and sat down without a word, paying for the food in advance. A bowl of noodles landed in front of her a few minutes later, the broth in front of her was rich and greasy, filled with noodles, scallions, and half a boiled egg. She held the bowl in one hand and held the chopsticks in another. The heat soaked into her palm as she started digging in. She took the first bite in silence, chewing slowly. The noodles disappeared one bite at a time.

"So," she muttered under her breath while eating the noodles. "Still here?"

"OF COURSE, WE'RE PARTNERS." the voice instantly replied back. "I FIGURED YOU NEEDED SOME PRIVACY. THOUGH I DID PEEK A LITTLE."

"Right," she mumbled, not even batting an eye and continue sipping some of the broth. Damn this is some good shit! She slurped another noodle, then another. If nothing else, she was grateful that this shitty lower section of Mistral knew how to cook.

"SO... DO YOU LIKE IT?" the voice mused as she drank the broth. "THE STAFF AND SEMBLANCE, I MEAN. IT DOESN'T JUST CREATE VISUALS BUT ALSO MANIPULATES PERCEPTION. SIGHT, SMELL, SOUND, EVEN TOUCH."

THUNK

Lune experimentally tapped her chopstick against the bowl - to everyone else, it rang with a clear ring. In reality, the wood made a dull thunk against the ceramic.

That's... terrifying.

A passing customer gave her a strange look as she talked to herself. She quickly raised the chopstick to her ear, the wood changing as it transformed into the illusion of a scroll.

"Yeah, mom," she said loudly, rolling her eyes for effect. "I know I promised to call sooner."

"CLEVER," the voice chuckled. "A WAY TO COMMUNICATE WITH ME WITHOUT DRAWING ATTENTION, NOT THAT YOU NEED TO DO THAT. STILL, WE'RE GOING TO HAVE A FUN TIME, I CAN TELL."

Lune exhaled and dropped the act. "At least one of us is having fun." she said, changing the scroll back to the chopstick. "So, does this semblance have a weakness?" she poked at her egg.

"IT USES YOUR AURA TO SUSTAIN THE ILLUSION. THE MORE COMPLEX THE ILLUSION, THE FASTER IT DRAINS YOUR AURA."

"And you couldn't lead with that?!" she said, surprised at the news.

"YOU WERE QUITE GRUMPY EARLIER SO I WAS TRYING TO BE CONSIDERATE."

She lowered her voice again. "How far does this go? Could I make... I dunno, lien?"

"YES..." a pause. "THOUGH I'D RECOMMEND JUST MAKING TOOLS INSTEAD. THE ILLUSION WOULD SHATTER IF ANYONE ELSE OTHER THAN YOU TOUCH IT."

Lune sighed and set down her chopstick. "...Is my life going to get worse?"

"NO, I DON'T THINK SO. I WAS TOLD THAT SUFFERING BUILDS CHARACTER SO I THINK YOU WILL BENEFIT GREATLY BY THE END OF THIS."

She groaned and buried her face in one hand. "Ughhhh, great."

"AND I'M IMPOSING LIMITS, BY THE WAY."

"What do you mean by that?"

"LISTEN, I COULD GIVE YOU ANY WEAPONS OR SEMBLANCES IN THIS WORLD." the voice said casually. "BUT THAT WOULD BE BORING. THE COOLEST PART OF A FIGHT IS WHEN BOTH SIDES ARE EVENLY MATCHED, ESPECIALLY WHEN ITS A POWER STRUGGLE OR WHEN THE STAKES ARE HIGH AND EVERYTHING IS ON THE LINE." It continued. "THINK OF HOW ONE WOULD ADAPT TO SUCH CIRCOMSTANCES, THE STRATEGIES, THE COMEBACKS. THOSE ARE WHAT MAKES A FIGHT INTERESTING AND ENTERTAINING TO WATCH."

Lune blinked. "Wait, wait, wait. You're holding me back because you think it would be boring?"

"WORRY NOT, I'LL MAKE A HUNTRESS OUT OF YOU YET. SO THAT WAY, YOU WON'T HAVE TO RELY ON ME EVERY TIME."

"I almost died like a few times, do you really think I can do this?"

"THE HEROINE NEVER FAILS. YOU'LL BE SAFE UNDER MY GUIDE. JUST THINK OF ME AS A TRUSTY COMPANION THAT YOU CAN DEPEND ON. I'LL STILL GIVE YOU WEAPONS BASED ON THE SITUATION. LIKE THAT TIME YOU STABBED THAT BIG MONKEY IN THE D-"

"I'm no heroine but... wow. Thanks." she blushed and coughed into her hand, ignoring that last part.

Lune sighed and stared at her reflection in the bowl, except it wasn't really hers. The illusion shimmered faintly around her eyes. Her true face was still underneath. Not my face, she reminded herself. She picked up the bowl and drained the last of the broth, savoring the heat. "So," she set down the bowl with finality. "How does a retail worker with no combat training take on this 'Spiders gang' and 'Branwen tribe'?"

"YOU HAVE AURA NOW, STOP THINKING LIKE A CIVILIAN." the staff's crystal pulsed against her body. "DON'T WORRY ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE. I'LL TEACH YOU EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW ON HOW TO GO FROM LAME TO BADASS. I'LL TEACH YOU AURA CONTROL TOO, NONE OF THAT WEAK SHIT HUNTSMAN ACADEMIES TEACH."

Her eyes narrowed. "...Come again? You'll teach me how to fight and use aura?"

"YOU'VE GOT TWO WEEKS, RIGHT?"

"Yeah, before I have to go back to work." she wiped her mouth. "So what now?"

"WE DON'T HAVE TO GO RUNNING TO THE BRANWEN TRIBE JUST YET, TRAIN WITH ME AND HAVE SOME FUN ALONG THE WAY."

"Fun?" Lune asked skeptically.

"YOU'RE IN A DIFFERENT COUNTRY," the voice reasoned. "EVEN IF YOU CAN'T ENJOY YOUR ORIGINAL TRIP AS PLANNED, YOU CAN STILL TRY OTHER THINGS. YOU'RE ON VACATION, AREN'T YOU?"

"...You know what? Yeah. You're right." she smiled.

"OH?"

"I've already committed crimes and now got a gang on my ass. I deserve a break from all of this."

"SURE," the voice commented. "WE CAN DO SOME HANDS-ON TRAINING BEFORE YOU HAVE YOUR FUN."

Lune stared down at her empty bowl, then she leaned back and stretched. "I'm not a masochist. I hate pain and I don't like getting hit. But... I've seen enough Huntsman combat footage and been to a couple of Vytal Festival Tournaments. If those kids can do it then why can't I?"

She tapped a finger to the table, thoughtful. "I wouldn't mind trying it. Just... don't expect me to start enjoying fighting people."

"NOW THAT'S THE TICKET." the voice sounded pleased. "YOU'VE BEEN SITTING HERE A WHILE. LET'S GO FOR A WALK. THERE'S A PARK NEARBY CALLED 'SAKURA PARK'. WALK THERE AND WE CAN TALK MORE, THERE ARE A FEW THINGS THAT I WANTED TO TELL YOU."

Yeah. A walk sounded pretty good right now.

The park was an unexpected pocket of beauty in Mistral's grimy underbelly. Cherry blossoms drifted lazily through the air, their petals catching the golden afternoon light before settling on cracked concrete paths. The benches were graffitied and tagged with gang symbols. Of course, even nature couldn't escape vandalism.

Lune plopped down on the least-disgusting bench she could find and stretched her legs with a tired groan. She laid the staff across her lap and tilted her head toward the beautiful view of cherry blossom petals falling. "Alright, creepy voice-in-my-head, we're alone. What did you want to tell me?"

"STRAIGHT TO BUSINESS! I LIKE IT." the voice hummed. "SO, THE THING IS... OUR ARRANGEMENT NOW HAS AN EXPIRATION DATE."

Lune raised a brow but didn't say anything.

"OUR CONTRACT." the voice continued, now adopting a formal tone. "WHEN YOU SAID 'YES' TO MY HELP WITH THE GRIMM, YOU AGREED TO FOREVER BE SOUL-BOUND TO ME." a petal landed on the staff before dissolving into mist.

One of her ears twitched under the illusion. "Yeah, I remember that." she looked down. "W-what about it?" she asked, trying not to sound as nervous as she felt. Oum, do I even have a soul anymore? Or is the voice just leasing it out like a shitty landlord?

"RELAX," the voice reassured breezily. "I'M NOT THAT CRUEL. I'LL END THE CONTRACT ONCE YOUR VACATION ENDS. TWO WEEKS. AND THEN I'M GONE. POOF. YOU GO BACK TO YOUR BORING, UNDERPAID JOB."

She stared blankly forward. "...That's it?"

"WELL… I MIGHT STOP BY OCCASIONALLY FROM TIME TO TIME TO CHECK UP ON YOU, BUT THAT'S PRETTY MUCH ABOUT IT."

"Right. Of course you are," she muttered, dragging a hand down her face. "Why me, though? Why pick me? Why only help when the Grimm came and not when I got shot?" her voice wavered slightly. "And what even is this contract? What does being soul-bound even mean?"

"SLOW DOWN, BUN-BUN. I KNOW YOU RABBITS LIKE TO GO FAST BUT ONE THING AT A TIME PLEASE."

"Hey!" she pouted. "That's racist, you jerk. I'm a rabbit Faunus, not an actual one."

"IT'S A TERM OF ENDEARMENT, MY DEAR." the voice said innocently. "ANYWAY, TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTION: I WAS BORED AND I WANTED TO SEE SOME ACTION. YOU WEREN'T IN MORTAL PERIL YET, SO I DIDN'T INTERVENE WHEN YOU GOT SHOT." the voice continued, "AND THE CONTRACT? SIMPLE. YOU AGREED TO FIGHT FOR MY ENTERTAINMENT IN EXCHANGE FOR POWER, I EXPLAINED THIS YESTERDAY."

"W-well, I wasn't in the right headspace then! Also, if a voice suddenly spoke to you in your head in the moment of near death, would you believed it? I was... trying to brush off everything."

"AND ABOUT THAT, I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT YOUR SITUATION." the staff from her lap suddenly trembled and floated up on its own.

CRACK

There was a sound of glass shattering. Fractals of light forming in the air before her, the shards coming together and formed into an illusionary screen. On it, she saw herself, crawling and drenched in blood. Her ankle was torn open, eyes were wide with shock. The bandits had already run off and the Grimms were closing in. Her fingers twitched uselessly toward her robes, her mouth open, gasping.

Then it showed the moment she agreed to the voice's help. The illusion then dissolved into a glittering mist, cherry blossom petals fell again like nothing had happened.

"WITHOUT ME, YOU'D BE DEAD." the voice said calmly. "I WAITED, I WATCHED, I NEEDED A YES AND YOU SAID IT."

"I was literally dying and you expected me to listen to your terms?"

"WELL, NO." the voice said. "MORTAL COIL MAKES PEOPLE COMPLIANT AND VALUE THEIR LIFE."

"Real fucking noble of you," she sneered.

"IF I GAVE YOU POWERS RIGHT AWAY, YOU WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN DESPERATE ENOUGH TO MAKE A DEAL."

Lune gritted her teeth. "Oum, you're actually worse than the debt collectors."

"LISTEN, I KNOW YOU DON'T LIKE BEING IN DANGER, OR VIOLENCE." the voice said gently, "BUT YOU'VE MADE A DEAL WITH ME, I'M HOLDING UP MY END AND YOU SHOULD TOO. I JUST WANTED TO MAKE SURE YOU WERE IN THE RIGHT MINDSET."

"…Ignoring the fact that you literally manipulated me, how the hell am I supposed to fight the Branwen Tribe's leader and get my revenge? I don't even know what she looks like."

"AH, YES. HER." the voice sighed, almost wistfully. "SO HERE'S THE THING, I'VE BEEN THINKING..."

"About…?"

"ABOUT YOUR CHANCES OF WINNING IN A FIGHT AGAINST THE TRIBE." the voice sighed. "TO PUT IT BLUNTLY - YOU CAN'T WIN. WITH YOUR CURRENT SKILLS, YOU'D DIE HORRIBLY. YOU'D BE FLATTENED BY HER WITH A SINGLE STRIKE. YOU'D BE LUCKY TO EVEN TOUCH HER."

"Figured." she buried her face in her hands. "Really selling me on this, huh?"

"I RAN THE NUMBERS AND DID SOME REASSESSMENT OF YOUR CURRENT SKILLS. YOU'D LOSE TO A PRE-COMBAT ACADEMY STUDENT."

Her ears flattened when she heard that. The staff pulsed, and suddenly, the glass screen appeared again. It showed a little kid no younger than twelve twirling a scythe bigger than her with ease like it weighed nothing, blasting through Grimms with clean movements and practiced footwork. Another showed a girl with long hair and gauntlets throwing herself into hand-to-hand sparring, knocking down larger opponents with speed alone.

Lune watched both, fascinated with what she had witnessed. She'd seen kids like them fight in tournaments before. But now, watching them up close feels different. She leaned forward slowly. "Damn..."

"THOSE ARE THE STUDENTS." the voice said helpfully. "AURA USERS, BUT NO HUNTSMEN YET. AND EVEN THEY WOULD MOP THE FLOOR WITH YOU, KEEP IN MIND THAT THEY HAVE MINIMAL AURA MASTERY AND BASIC FORMAL TRAINING."

"I'm not that bad, you know." she let out a whistle.

"THAT'S GENEROUS, ACTUALLY." the projection changed to show a masked enforcer in purple leather bending a steel support beam. "YOU'D MOST LIKELY DIE IF IT WAS A FIGHT TO THE DEATH. THERE IS NO WAY YOU CAN WIN AGAINST ANYONE WITH YOUR CURRENT SKILLSET UNLESS I INTERVENE. MATTER OF FACT, YOU WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO BEAT LIL MISS MALACHITE'S HIRED ARMS AND HER SECURITY. MOST OF THEM HAVE THEIR AURAS UNLOCKED, ANY THUG WITH PROPER AURA TRAINING WOULD GIVE YOU TROUBLE IN A FIGHT."

The image changed again, now to a woman in red and black. She has red eyes and was battling with a younger short-haired woman wielding some kind of crescent-shaped boomerang hand-blades. She wasn't even using a weapon, only using her footwork to weave and blocking the other woman's strike. She seems to have no trouble doing so while the other woman seems exhausted from trying land a hit on her.

"AND THAT'S WHO YOU HAVE TO FIGHT AGAINST," the voice informed. "SHE IS ALSO ARGUABLY THE STRONGEST PERSON IN ANIMA RIGHT NOW."

The illusion screen froze, zooming in on the woman's cold, red eyes.

"YOU CURRENTLY HAVE A ZERO PERCENT CHANCE OF WINNING."

"…Okay." Lune stared. "And you want me to fight her?"

"YES." the voice admitted. "I JUST THINK IT'D BE REALLY FUNNY TO WATCH YOU TRY."

"You do realize how insane that sounds, right?"

Lune's stomach twisted. Is this the gap between her and those people? How can she possibly win? Lune gulped while watching the imaginary fight happening. The illusions dissolved, now replaced by a new one. It was Lune herself, fighting on par with the red-eyed woman, moving at insane speeds and trading blows, countering her moves and pivoting through the air.

"COOL, RIGHT?" the voice purred. "THAT'S WHAT PEAK PERFORMANCE LOOKS LIKE."

Lune's eyes widened. "That's… impossible! And you supposed I move and fight like that?"

"WHAT? NO. YOU'D JUST GET MUSCLE SPASMS." the voice snorted. "YOU DON'T EVEN DO YOGA."

"Wow, ok. Fuck you!" she said reflexively, but it came out weak. She slouched deeper into the bench, the weight of the staff suddenly more noticeable across her lap. A cherry blossom landed in her hair, and she didn't bother brushing it away. Her hands trembled slightly around the haft of the weapon. "I don't get it," she muttered. "If you know I can't fight... then what's the point?"

"I'M NOT DONE YET, INSTEAD OF WASTING TIME TEACHING YOU HOW TO FIGHT FROM SCRATCH…" the illusion changed again - showing her wielding a weapon she'd never seen before and moving with the skill of a veteran Huntsman. "I'LL GIVE YOU THE NEXT BEST THING. WHILE YOU HOLD A WEAPON I GIVE YOU, YOU GAIN THE MUSCLE MEMORY AND SEMBLANCE OF THE HUNTSMAN WHO MASTERED IT."

"Ohhhhh," Lune said slowly, realization dawning. "Was that the reason why I was able to defeat the Grimms and the thugs from yesterday?"

"I TOLD YOU THAT YESTERDAY." the voice sighed. "BUT YES, YOU CAN'T FIGHT BUT YOUR BODY THINKS IT CAN. IT'LL RESPOND LIKE IT'S DONE THIS A THOUSAND TIMES."

"...So every time you give me a new weapon."

"YOU'LL KNOW HOW TO USE IT INSTINCTIVELY, INSIDE AND OUT."

Lune narrowed her eyes. "Anything else that I should know? Like where the hell are you pulling these from?"

"AND TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTION: THESE WEAPONS AND ABILITIES BELONGED TO DEAD HUNTSMEN AND HUNTRESSES."

Lune stiffened. "Wait. What? What!? I-isn't that, like... desecration of the dead? You want me to fight the strongest woman in Anima using dead people's weapons and power?"

"YES." the voice confirmed. A series of glowing silhouettes slowly appears in the illusion screen - each one holding a different weapon, their faces blurred. "EVERY SKILL, EVERY SEMBLANCE, EVERY WEAPON THAT ONCE BELONGED TO THEM IS NOW YOURS TO USE."

Lune's fingers twitched toward a figure wielding twin pistols. "And these... these people are fine with me using it right?"

"YEAH. THEY BLED, THEY KILLED, THEY DIED AND NOW THEY'RE MINE," the voice pointed out dryly. "LEGENDS LOST TO TIME. HUNTSMENS AND HUNTRESSESS NO ONE REMEMBERS, EXCEPT ME... THE OTHER MIND PARASITE PROBABLY REMEMBERS THEM TOO, BUT WHO CARES ABOUT HIM?"

"What was that?" Lune frowned. "Wait, what other mind parasite?"

"IGNORE THAT."

"No? I feel like I shouldn't ignore that."

"TOO BAD. MOVING ON," the voice changed topic. "YOU CAN TAP INTO ANY OF THESE DEAD GUYS' SKILLS AND WEAPONS. JUST SAY THE WORD AND I'LL SWITCH ONE IN FOR YOU." a new illusion formed - a battlefield littered with broken weapons, each glowing faintly.

Lune gulped, the weight of what was being offered settled on her shoulders. "So the ice power - back when I killed those Grimms..."

"A SEMBLANCE BELONGED TO SOME RANDO THAT DIED IN THE GREAT WAR." the voice answered. "ORIGINALLY, IT ONLY LETS HIM FREEZE WHATEVER HE TOUCHED. THE VERSION YOU USED WAS THE AWAKENED FORM, I MODIFIED IT SO YOU WOULDN'T TURN INTO A POSTICLE. QUITE A DANGEROUS SEMBLANCE EVEN WITH AURA."

An illusion flickered to life, it was like an old memory: A man stood alone in the snow, bleeding heavily, ice crawling up his arms. Behind him, a squad of wounded Huntsmens were limping toward an airship. Grimm surged out of the woods, and he stood firm, driving his blade into the frozen earth.

"Go!" the man shouted, his voice echoing in the cold. "I'll hold them off!"

He slammed both hands on the ground. A shockwave of frost burst outward, encasing a charging Ursa in jagged crystal. The scene froze just as a pack of Beowolves closed in from behind him.

Lune blinked, stunned. "…He died saving his team. That's kind of-"

"-LAME? YEAH, I AGREE. BIG HEROIC SACRIFICE, BLAH BLAH." the voice said flatly.

A sad laugh burst from Lune's lips before she could stop it. The absurdity of it all - sitting in this broken park, discussing with a strange voice in her head. Where did she go wrong? "This feels wrong." she said, wiping her eyes. "Those people didn't die so I could play Huntress for two weeks."

"YOU THINK ALL OF THEM THEY DIED FOR SOMETHING GRAND?" the voice scoffed. "PLEASE. MOST OF THEM DIED FOR NOTHING. JUST STUPID DEATHS. STUPID WARS. STUPID CAUSES." the voice said in a matter-of-fact tone. "NOW, DO YOU WANNA SKIP THE SENTIMENTAL STUFF AND PICK SOMETHING NEW?"

"…Right," Lune said hollowly. She hesitated. "Show me more of them."

"PASS," the voice replied. "THEIR DEATH WAS BORING. THEY DIED AND IT WAS SAD. END OF STORY."

"They were people, you insensitive ass!" she yelled at the voice.

"NOPE." the voice dismissed her without hesitation. "NOW LISTEN CLOSE. I'LL LET YOU USE THEIR SKILLS AND SCHTICK ON ONE CONDITION."

Lune sighed. "Let me guess. I don't get to choose."

"DING DING DING. YOU DON'T."

"Why not? Wouldn't it make sense if I used the one I'm most comfortable with?"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE COMFORTABLE," the voice snapped. "TRUE MASTERY TAKES TIME AND WORK. I WON'T HAND YOU VICTORY ON A PLATTER."

"Uh... please? You uh, devilish sexy voice thing..." she cringed immediately. "Ugh, forget I said that."

"FLATTERY WILL GET YOU NOWHERE. SURE, I COULD GIVE YOU THE POWER TO BEAT HER RIGHT NOW. BUT WHERE'S THE FUN IN THAT?"

"I get it, I get it. You don't need to drill that into my head. You mentioned that enough times."

"I'LL KEEP SAYING IT UNTIL IT SINKS IN. I WANT TO WATCH YOU GROW AND THAT'S WHAT I WANT OUT OF THIS DEAL, A GOOD SHOW. WINNING IS FINE, BUT WINNING AFTER GETTING BEATEN DOWN, PUSHING YOURSELF TO THE LIMIT, LEARNING, IMPROVING, GETTING BACK UP AGAIN? THAT'S WORTH WATCHING."

Lune exhaled slowly. "This still feels very wrong though."

"ANYWAY," the voice said cheerfully. "I PROMISED YOU HANDS-ON TRAINING, SO TIME TO GET YOUR BUTT OFF THE BENCH, BUN-BUN."

"...Seriously?"

"YES, GET UP."

Lune groaned and slowly stood, stretching her sore back. "I don't even know where to start."

"LOOK AROUND, TROUBLE IN MISTRAL IS NEVER FAR. YOU NEED TO GET COMFORTABLE WITH BEING IN DANGER."

Sure, she could either be comfortably beaten up, comfortably stabbed or comfortably dead. She rolled her eyes and lazily scanned the cracked paths around her. "I don't see anything bad happening right now. So unless you want me to harass passers-by, I think I'm out of options."

"DROP THE ILLUSION FIRST." the voice ordered. "YOU'RE NOT GONNA LEARN ANYTHING HIDING BEHIND THAT DISGUISE."

She sighed through her nose and reluctantly peeled the illusion off. The fake filter over her appearance faded and replaced by her usual self with white hair, rabbit ears and filthy clothes. The wooden walking stick also reverted back to its metal staff form with white crystal dust on top.

Lune gave a halfhearted scan of the empty park again. "…It's the middle of the afternoon. Not exactly prime crime hours."

"THEN LUCKY FOR YOU, I'VE GOT A GUARANTEED WAY TO GET YOU IN TROUBLE."

"Ohhhhhh boy."

"THERE'S A NIGHTCLUB AROUND HERE CALLED 'THE LUCK OF THE MOUNTAINS', I WANT YOU TO LOOK FOR IT."

"…You're sending me clubbing? In the middle of the day? They're called 'nightclub' for a reason."

"YOU CAN HAVE FUN WHILE ALSO PROGRESSING YOUR OWN GOAL."

"Sure, but why did you want me to go there anyway?" she raised a brow.

"BECAUSE I SAID SO. AND BECAUSE IT'S ONE OF THE SPIDER GANG'S FRONT, IT BOTH DEALS WITH LEGAL AND ILLEGAL ACTIVITIES." the voice added. "LIL MISS MALACHITE HAS A REAL TALENT FOR RECRUITING THE WORST OF THE WORST, TAKE THE FORMER NIGHTCLUB'S SINGER FOR EXAMPLE. SHE USED TO SING ON STAGE, CHARMING CROWDS WITH THAT SIREN SEMBLANCE OF HERS, PULLING IN LIEN WHILE THE SPIDERS PICKED POCKETS. NOW THEY'VE GOT A NEW SHOWMAN RUNNING THE CLUB, AN ANNOYING LITTLE MC NAMED 'SILVER TONGUE'."

Lune's ears flattened. "Wait, Spider as in Spiders gang? Why would I even go there? Aren't I supposed to be not drawing attention from them?"

"YES, BUT I WANT YOU TO TRASH THE CLUB."

"...Come again?"

"START A FIGHT. MAKE A SCENE. DRAW ATTENTION TO YOURSELF. LET THE PEOPLE KNOW YOU EXIST, GET YOUR NAME OUT THERE. FAME, YOU NEED PEOPLE TO KNOW WHO YOU ARE."

"Not sure how I would feel about pissing off a big crime lord in her territory..."

"YOUR NAME WILL BE BUZZING THROUGH THE UNDERGROUND FASTER THAN YOU CAN BLINK."

That'll surely end super well for her, she thought. "And you want me to do this because... what? You think it'd be funny?"

"YES, BUT ALSO FOR LITTLE MISS MALACHITE TO NOTICE YOU."

"I need you to explain your big plan to me first before I agree on anything."

"MISS BIG-WEB-BITCH HERSELF GOT INFORMATION, SHE KNOWS EVERYTHING GOING ON AROUND ANIMA AND MISTRAL, WHO'S DOING WHAT, WHERE, WHEN AND MORE.  CONNECT THE DOTS, FLUFFBALL."

Lune went quiet, eyes down. Her fingers curled around the staff as she chewed her cheek. "That's the dumbest plan I've ever heard... what do I have to do?"

"YOU JUST NEED TO WALK IN THERE, FIND SILVER TONGUE, AND THE MOMENT HE'S IN RANGE-" The staff pulsed in her grip, flashing a violent image of Lune smashing it into the MC's smug face. "-INTRODUCE HIM TO THE FLOOR." The illusion vanished, leaving Lune trembling.

"Y-you want me to just... bash his skull in? Out of nowhere?"

"YES. HIS SEMBLANCE IS TO MESMERIZE PEOPLE, HAVE THEM LOWER THEIR GUARD AND MAKES THEM EASY PICKINGS FOR THE SPIDERS. UNLIKE HONEY WINE'S SEMBLANCE, WHO SANG TO DRAW A CROWD, THIS GUY CHARMED CLUBGOERS WHILE HIS CRONIES CLEANED OUT THEIR WALLETS." the voice explained. "WHEN YOU PUT ONE OF THEIR LIEN-MAKER OUT OF COMMISSION, THE SPIDER WILL SURELY COME SWARMING THROUGH AND MAKE YOU PAY FOR IT. THAT'S PERFECT BECAUSE IT'S EXACTLY WHAT WE WANT, YOU CAN GET SOME PROPER COMBAT PRACTICE BEATING THEM UP."

Lune hesitated, staring down at the weapon. "Still… I mean, I agreed to fight, yeah. But that's a bit too much. I'm not saying what he's doing is okay, but it doesn't feel right to carve his skull in for theft."

"I GUESS YOU'RE RIGHT..." the voice hummed. "THOUGH, IF HE WANTED TO, SILVER TONGUE COULD USE THAT SEMBLANCE OF HIS TO DO OTHER THINGS. NOT SAYING HE DOES, JUST SAYING THAT HE COULD. LIKE, SAY... MANIPULATION, BLACKMAIL OR KIDNAPPING. ALL I'M SAYING IS, HE'S GOT THE POWER FOR IT, AND MALACHITE PICKS PEOPLE WHO DON'T MIND GETTING THEIR HANDS DIRTY."

"That's a big accusation." Lune's grip on her staff tightened. "You're saying I should beat up someone for something he might be doing?" she sounded unsure of herself.

"I'M SAYING IT'S VERY POSSIBLE. WOULD YOU PUT IT PAST A SPIDER GANG MEMBER? I WOULDN'T. NOT WHEN HIS POWER MAKES IT SO EASY."

"That's... a big leap."

"I MEAN, I COULD SHOW YOU A FEW THINGS, A LITTLE MONTAGE HERE AND THERE. FROM GANG MEMBERS EXTORTING HARD-WORKING CITIZENS, SMUGGLING OF ILLEGAL GOODS TO DISPOSING BODIES." the voice snorted. "THE SPIDER GANG RUNS THE CRIME IN LOWER MISTRAL. TRAFFICKING CHILDREN SHOULDN'T BE OUTSIDE THE REALM OF POSSIBILITY FOR THEM, YOU GET ME RIGHT?"

Lune opened her mouth, jaw dropped. "W-what...? That's horrible, but-"

"BUT WHAT?" the voice asked her. "WAIT FOR THE AUTHORITIES? THE ONES THE SPIDERS BRIBED?" the voice showed her an image of Mistral's law enforcer taking lien and turning a blind eye to the gang's illegal activities. "OR MAYBE THE HUNTSMEN? OH WAIT-" the scene changed to show the Huntsmen doing the exact same thing.

"No..." Lune whispered. "No way it's all like that…"

"OH, POOR, NAIVE BUNNY. THIS IS LOWER MISTRAL, WHAT JUSTICE DO YOU THINK EXISTS DOWN HERE?" the voice pressed. "YOU WANT THE BAD GUYS TO WIN?"

"That's not what I meant!"

"NO? THEN HURRY UP AND START SOME TROUBLE!" the voice urged her.

Lune glared at the 'Closed' sign plastered on the gaudy, neon-lit doors of 'The Luck of the Mountains', pinching the bridge of her nose. The voice had hyped her up to storm in, bash Silver Tongue's face, and kick off a brawl with the Spider gang for some 'training'. Instead, she'd wasted thirty minutes wandering aimlessly outside Sakura Park trying to find the nightclub only for it to be closed. Holy fucking shit, why did she even bother? Nightclubs are, shockingly, nighttime establishments.

"For Oum's sake." she dragged both hands down her face and groaned. "Who could've thought it only opened at night. "I had doubts. Lots of doubts. And yeah, you told me to come trash this nightclub. In the afternoon. You absolute walnut!"

A few pedestrians walking by gave her a wide berth. She probably looked like a deranged, blood-smeared madwoman with a blunt weapon strapped to her back. Sudden regret hits her, why didn't she buy clean clothes first? She'd dropped her illusion semblance back at the park and now paranoia was growing inside her. That Spider thug she'd paralyzed yesterday with the syringe injector was probably up by now and already reported her to his boss. If the Spiders' network reached Vale, her retail job was toast when her vacation ended. She would rather deal with customers calling her names than getting her life ruined by a crime syndicate.

"ER, RIGHT. SORRY ABOUT THAT." the voice mumbled, its usual demeaner replaced by an awkward laugh. "I DIDN'T REALIZE THAT NIGHTCLUBS WERE, UH, NIGHT-ONLY. HONEST MISTAKE, BUN-BUN. HEH... SORRY, THAT ONE'S ON ME."

"Ughhh, now what? I dropped my disguise, and I'm pretty damn sure the Spiders are looking for a rabbit Faunus my exact description. You got a plan to get me out of this or am I just screwed?"

The voice hummed. "YEAH, I ACTUALLY... HAVE NO IDEA. BUT I WON'T LIE, THE BLOODIED JACKET MAKES YOU LOOKS REALLY COOL." the voice quickly added. "SINCE THIS IS YOUR FIRST BIG CLASH WITH THE SPIDERS, LET'S GET YOU LOOKING SHARP, SOMETHING DAPPER TO WOW THE CROWD WHEN YOU CRASH THAT PLACE TONIGHT. OWN THOSE RABBIT EARS! NOTHING SAYS 'BADASS' LIKE A FAUNUS KICKING ASS AS HERSELF."

"Me?" Lune snorted, glancing at her crusty clothes. "No way I'm walking into the nightclub like this without getting stared at. Matter of fact I don't think they'd let me in at all."

"OH, YE OF LITTLE FAITH," the voice said. "LET THEM KNOW WHO'S COMING, HIT THE MARKET AND GO GRAB NEW THREADS WITH YOUR LEFTOVER LIEN. LET'S GET YOU READY."

Lune rolled her eyes, but her stomach twisted again as a few more passersby gave her nervous side-eyes. Yeah. Clean clothes might actually help. Or at the very least, make her look less like a deranged criminal. She gripped the metal staff and trudged toward the market.

The market of lower Mistral was a bustling sprawl, polished stalls with bright fabrics, sizzling street food, and trinkets gleaming under electric lights. She noticed the vendors here were all human, their eyes narrowing as she approached, her rabbit ears twitching prominently. A few shoppers whispered 'animal' and 'troublemaker', their stares made Lune feel quite uncomfortable. Still, she kept her head high and ignored their racist remarks about her. One store caught her eye: 'Mistral Street Styles'. The clothes looked decent. It was nothing fancy, but not garbage either.

Lune walked in, the bell above the door giving a half-hearted jingle. She only got two steps inside before the shopkeeper - a balding man with a face like curdled milk looked up, saw her ears, saw the bloodstains, and immediately narrowed his eyes. "We don't serve Faunus," he said flatly.

Lune blinked. "...I'm sorry?"

"I said," the man repeated, "we don't serve your kind. Please leave."

Behind her, a man by the shoe rack snorted, muttering 'filthy rabbit' under his breath. A woman nearby pulled her kid closer, whispering 'dangerous'. Lune's grip tightened on the staff, her knuckles whitening, her face flushing with anger.

"WELL, THIS IS A FREE PASS IF I EVER HEARD ONE." the voice excitedly said. "I THINK HE WANTS YOU TO SHATTER HIS PELVIS WITH YOUR STAFF! SMACK HIM, BUN-BUN! SHOW THIS GUY YOU MEANS BUSINESS!"

Lune's fingers flexed around the haft of her weapon, but she didn't move. Her eyes flicked to the man, then the shop, then back to her own reflection in a dusty mirror near the door. Her face was red and her jaw clenched.

"…No."

"NO?" the voice repeated, baffled.

"No," she said again. "I'm not doing that. I'm not going to beat up someone just because he's a jackass."

"BUT HE'S RACIST!"

She exhaled hard through her nose. "That's not how this works. Just because I have power and aura now doesn't mean I get to act like a jerk. It's like... I dunno, walking into a bakery, getting told they're out of bread, and pulling a gun on the cashier." the mother pulled her child away from Lune's outburst. She turned without another word and walked out of the store.

The voice made a long, drawn-out groaning noise. "YOU'RE KILLING MY MOMENTUM AGAIN."

"I deal with this shit in Vale all the time anyways. Fighting would just make me the bad guy." Lune muttered, her ears twitching as she pushed through the market. Another vendor, a woman with a pinched face, caught her eye, selling cloaks at a stall. Lune approached, bracing herself. "How much for that one?" she asked a vendor with a thin mustache, pointing at a sleek black one with silver trim.

The man sneered, eyeing her ears. "8000 lien. No haggling, rabbit. And don't touch anything - you'll dirty it."

Lune's face burned, her fists clenching. "8000 lien? That's robbery! This is worth 4000 in Vale!"

"Take it or leave it, rodent," the man spat. A nearby shopper chuckled, tossing a crumpled wrapper at Lune's feet.

"ARE YOU SURE YOU DON'T WANT TO TEACH THEM A LESSON?" the voice asked.

"No!" Lune hissed, her voice trembling with restraint. "I'm not starting a fight over a cloak. Drop it." she shoved her dwindling lien at the man, grabbing the cloak, dark pants and clean socks. Ducking into an alley, she swapped her bloodied clothes, the fresh fabric a small relief, though her boots still reeked of gore. Her rabbit ears stood out starkly against the black cloak, making her feel like a target. "Happy now?" she muttered, slinging the staff over her shoulder.

"LOOKING GOOD ALREADY!" the voice purred. "BUT, LIKE, WHY STOP AT THAT? THE SUN HASN'T SET YET AND THE NIGHTCLUB OPENS AT EIGHT. LET'S UPGRADE THAT OUTFIT TO SOMETHING WITH SEX APPEAL. YOU KNOW, FEMININE WILES, BUN-BUN! SLINK INTO THAT CLUB LIKE A SIREN, BAT THOSE EYES, TWITCH THOSE EARS, AND THE BOUNCERS WON'T EVEN CHECK YOUR ID. WORK THAT RABBIT CHARM!"

Lune's face burned, her ears shooting upright as she choked on air. "W-What?!" she sputtered, cheeks flaming red. "Sex appeal? Feminine wiles? Are you out of your mind?" Lune snapped, her blush deepening as she hugged the cloak tighter.

The voice cackled, clearly delighted. "OH, COME ON! IMAGINE IT: TIGHT LEATHER, LOW-CUT TOP, EARS TWITCHING ALL CUTE-LIKE. YOU'D HAVE THE WHOLE CLUB EATING OUT OF YOUR HAND BEFORE YOU SMACK THEM WITH THAT STAFF."

"Sh-shut it!"

"SPOILSPORT," the voice sighed in disappointment. "BUT YOU'RE MISSING OUT ON A KILLER ENTRANCE. OKAY, LET'S CHAT INSTEAD, I'LL KEEP YOU BUSY UNTIL ITS NIGHT TIME. SO, WHY'D A RETAIL WORKER PICK MISTRAL FOR A VACATION? WHY NOT, LIKE, VACUO'S BEACHES OR ATLAS'S FANCY SKI LODGES?"

Lune slumped against the alley wall, the metal staff leaning beside her. "I dunno," she muttered, kicking a pebble. "Mistral sounded... peaceful. Cherry blossoms, mountains, nature trails. I saved for months, dealing with shitty customers in extra-shift just to afford two weeks here. Thought I'd photograph birds, write a travel blog. Stupid, right?" she laughed bitterly.

"ALRIGHT," the voice said, its tone softening just a smidge. "WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE BIRD?"

Lune blinked, caught off guard by the voice's sudden interest in something so... normal. "...Corvids, they're smart birds." a faint smirk tugged at her lips. "Your turn, weirdo. What's your favorite... anything? Besides watching fights, obviously."

"OH, BUN-BUN, YOU WOUND ME! BUT FINE, I'LL TELL YOU. ITS POWER-SCALING, I LOVE SIZING UP PEOPLE, RANKING THEIR SKILLS AND PITTING THEM AGAINST EACH OTHER. HYPOTHETICALLY."

Lune chuckled, the tension in her chest easing slightly. "Power-scaling? That's your thing? You're just a huge nerd!"

"I MUCH PREFER YOU CALL ME A COMBAT ANALYST."

"Oh Oum, you're such a dork." Lune's laughter rang off the alley walls, her shoulders shook as she tried to stifle it, wiping a corner of her eye.

"..."

She giggled again, the sound tapering into a sigh as she slid further down the wall until she was practically sitting on the dirty ground. "Okay. I needed that. Thanks… I guess."

"...YOU'RE BEING FOLLOWED."

She jerked up. "...Wait, what? Where?"

"ABOUT TWO BLOCKS BACK: MALE, SCARRED FACED, PURPLE JACKET, A BIT OF A LIMP IN HIS LEFT KNEE."

She immediately stood and casually picked up her staff. Her eyes flicked down the alleyway, pretending not to look around.

"I HAVE A PERFECT 360° VIEW AROUND YOU." the voice said. "THERE ARE SIX MORE THUGS FOLLOWING YOU. ONLY THE SCARRED GUY'S GOT AURA, THOUGH. THE REST ARE JUST BACKUPS."

Lune's eyes widened, her pulse racing as she spotted a figure in a dark-purple jacket, his eyes locked onto hers. "Are you kidding me?!" she hissed. "I just got clean clothes!"

"DON'T PANIC. PANIC IS FOR THE WEAK AND UNDER-PREPARED. WHICH YOU KINDA ARE. BUT STILL, LISTEN."

"I'm listening," she whispered, starting to walk away from the alley.

"TURN LEFT, CUT THROUGH THE ALLEY BESIDE THAT FRUIT STAND. THERE'S A DEAD END WITH JUST ENOUGH ROOM TO FIGHT WITHOUT INTERRUPTIONS."

Lune turned as the voice instructed. "Wouldn't that just be cornering myself?"

"TRUST ME, YOU WANT THIS FIGHT ON YOUR TERMS."

She sighed but keep walking, the noise of the street faded behind her, replaced by the echo of her own footsteps. At the end, a rusted chain-link fence blocked the way. She spun on her boots just as the man rounded the corner. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a jagged scar running from his temple to his jaw. His machete gleamed in the dim light, already drawn. His lips curled into a smirk as he saw her trapped.

"Well, hey there, rabbit," the thug called. "A little spider told me you roughed up one of our boys yesterday." he drew the gun strapped on his belt.

Lune pulled her hood up as she backed against the wall. "I don't want trouble," she said, her voice shaky. "Leave me alone and you won't get hurt."

"No dice," he sneered, stepping closer. "You're coming with me."

Six more figures slipped into the alley behind him, fanning out - two with swords, one with twin daggers, another with a chain whip, and two hefting Dust-studded clubs. Lune's weak aura hummed softly, a faint shimmer of pink light coated around her body, ready to blunt any hits.

The thug raised his pistol-

"DOWN!"

Lune dropped on the ground just as the gunshot cracked through the alley. The bullet zipped over her head, embedding into the brick wall with a spray of dust. Her pink aura shimmered faintly, cushioning the shock of the near-miss. She let out a sigh of relief as cold sweat formed on her forehead, her confidence rising despite her low aura reserves. "Hehehehh." she giggled to herself, gripping her staff tighter. Before she could react, the voice barked orders-

"ROLL LEFT, STAFF UP!"

She obeyed on instinct, rolling to her left as the thug's knife slashed down, slicing through the air where she'd stood. Lune swung her staff in a wide arc-

CLANG

-blocking his next strike, the impact jarring her arms, her weak aura cushioning the blow. Her knees buckled slightly, but she held her ground, ears flat against her head to avoid someone grabbing it. She focused, pink light sparking as she summoned a thick, illusory fog, rolling across the alley's floor. It cloaked the ground, swallowing the feet of the six non-aura thugs. They stumbled, cursing, their swings going wild as the fog hid Lune's movements.

Lune darted forward, swinging her staff at the scarred thug's chest. His aura flared, deflecting most of the blow, but he staggered, his pistol flew out of his hand in the process. Scar-Face balanced himself as he switch wholly to his knife and tried to predict where she was in the fog, striking at any sudden movement.

WOOSH

She dodged his counter-slash, her aura dulling the blade's breeze, and spun to face the whip-wielder charging through the fog. Sidestepping smoothly, she let the chain whip graze her cloak, the fabric and aura numbing the barbs' sting.

"MAKE A FAKE YOU," the voice suggested. "SPLIT THEIR FOCUS!"

She nodded, her aura steady enough for another trick. A doppelganger of her flickered into existence, sprinting toward the fence. The two thugs chased it, slashing at nothing as the illusion crumbled into glass.

Lune swung her staff low as she aimed for the whip-wielder's legs, the Dust core flaring as it cracked against his knees. He collapsed with a yelp, no aura to protect from the blow. The scarred thug roared, his knife arcing toward her. She anticipated the attack and parried it, countering with a swift jab to his kneecaps. He stumbled, his aura flickering for a second - the only real threat among them.

"IT'S A SIGN THAT HIS AURA IS LOW, GET HIM!"

She then surged forward, gritting her teeth as she feinted her staff strike, then swept low to throw him off-balance. The thug took the bait, slashing wide with the knife, the blade hissing inches from her neck. Lune dropped to a knee, spun on her heel, and slammed her staff against his shin. The hit was clean, but his aura absorbed the worst of it .

"FUCK!" Scar-Face growled. He slammed his shoulder into her chest as Lune hit the alley wall hard, her aura flashing pink as it took the brunt of the impact. Pain bloomed across her ribs, she'd definitely feel that later.

Two club-wielders charge through the fog, following the sound of her fight with the scarred thug. One swung horizontal as Lune ducked, the Dust-studded club smashing into the bricks behind her, sending chips flying.

"DROP AN ILLUSION NOW!"

Another copy of her appears left, leaping over a garbage can and drawing one of the club-wielding thug's attention. He chased it, swinging wildly as it shattered into glass. The other wasn't fooled and instead aimed for the real Lune, Dust spikes along his club glowing orange.

Holy shit! Lune thought as she vaulted another garbage can, using her staff to propel herself forward. She landed awkwardly but upright, just as the club hit where she'd been - a burst of fire and force shook the air.

"Stand still, you fucking animal!" the man bellowed, winding up again. She thrust the butt of her staff into his gut and twisted, using the other end to smack him across the face and sent him sprawling into the fog.

The twin dagger user came next as she backed up, staff spinning and parrying his slashes. The air hissed where her blades passed. One nearly grazed Lune's cheek.

"BACK PEDAL, THEN PIVOT. USE THE WALL."

She did exactly that, stepping back until her foot hit the brick behind her. The dagger thug came in for a double-slash as she planted one hand against the wall, twisted, and jammed her staff into her collarbone. The woman stumbled, and Lune followed with a knee to her stomach, then a staff strike to her temple, slamming her to the ground.

That left two conscious enemies: Scar-Face and a thug holding machete. Her own aura was now flickering, she had taken many hits and almost drained her aura just keeping up the fog illusion.

"ONLY TWO LEFT," the voice said. "YOU NEED TO FINISH THE OTHER ONE FAST, THEN DOUBLE UP ON SCAR-FACE WITH AN ILLUSION."

Lune nodded, blood trickling down the side of her face. She feinted left, then conjured another doppelganger sprinting toward the one with machete. He turned to block it, right as the real Lune dove in, swung down low and took his legs out from under him. She followed with three rapid strikes - chest, shoulder, head - dropping him limp into the pavement.

The scarred thug was already back on his feet, panting, fury in his eyes. "You little rat…" he spat. "You don't even know who you're messing with."

"FUCK YOUUUUUUUUUUUU!" she flipped the bird at him, happy as all her pent up emotions finally unleased.

Lune didn't back away this time. Her last illusion surged to meet him as he slashed through it, his eyes widening as it shattered into crystalline shards.

"FINISH HIM!" the voice roared as Lune's staff became a blur of motion.

The scarred thug barely raised his knife in time-

CRACK

Her staff smashed across his wrist. Bone snapped. His knife clattered to the ground.

"SPIN KICK!"

Lune whirled, her boot slamming into his ribs. His aura shattered in a burst of light. He crashed into the alley wall, sliding down with a groan. The fog swirled around Lune's legs as she stepped forward, her staff resting against her shoulder. Her pink aura pulsed faintly, but her stance was steady. She exhaled, her shoulders slumping.

The fog dissipated, revealing the groaning, bleeding mess of Spider enforcers at her feet. The scarred leader was unconscious, his wrist bent at a nasty angle. She nudged him with her boot. "I... I really did it!" her legs trembled.

"COLOR ME IMPRESSED, LIL' MISS MALACHITE'S GONNA BE SHAKING IN HER BOOTS." the voice said, thoroughly pleased.

"I need to sit down," Lune panted, wiping the blood from her cheek as she leaned against a crate, catching her breath.

"NO TIME. YOU MADE A SCENE AND I AM SURE SOMEONE'S GOING TO NOTICE."

"I am already noticed by them…" Lune wiped blood off her brow. "That's the problem."

"DON'T SOUND SO DISAPPOINTED, YOU'VE WON!"

"Yeah, but..." she frowned. "I'm guessing this'll bring more Spiders crawling after me."

"WHICH IS GREAT!" the voice commended like it was something to be proud about. "BUT UNFORTUNATELY, IT ALSO MEANS WE HAVE A DEADLINE NOW."

Lune side-eyed the unconscious thugs scattered like trash bags. "I can just leave them here."

"YOU COULD. BUT THEN THEY'D WAKE UP IN A FEW HOURS, TATTLE TO MOMMY MALACHITE, AND BAM - THE NIGHTCLUB CLOSES EARLY, SECURITY TRIPLES, AND YOU LOSE YOUR CHANCE TO GET YOUR TRAINING."

Lune sighed, dragging a hand down her face. "So what? I can't just exactly leave them here then."

"CRIPPLE THEM."

Lune blinked. "What?"

"NOT KILL! JUST SMASH A LIMB OR TWO. SLOW THE BLEEDOUT ONCE YOU'RE DONE, I'M NOT A MONSTER."

"That's a lot of moral gymnastics," she murmured, glancing down at the groaning dagger thug, who was starting to move.

"COME ON, YOU DON'T HAVE TIME TO BE SENTIMENTAL. TIME IS TICKING HERE."

The voice was probably right. Besides, leaving them here could really set her back on her grand revenge plot.

Five minutes later, Lune stood over the thugs. A snapped wrist here. A dislocated shoulder there. Hamstrings tenderized. No one was dying, but they wouldn't be walking straight for a while either. Her aura sputtered dangerously low now, just barely flickering around her skin like a dying ember.

"Okay," she muttered, panting, blood and sweat mixing in her bangs. "That should buy me, what, three hours?"

"MAYBE. DEPENDING ON HOW BADLY THAT ONE GUY'S KNEE WAS. NICE KICK, BY THE WAY."

"Thanks, I guess." she wiped her palms on her cloak, then remembered it was still the blood-stained one from before. "...Ugh. Right. I look like someone who worked in a slaughterhouse."

"WELL. LUCKY FOR YOU, WE STILL GOT A DATE AT THE CLUB TONIGHT," the voice sing-songed. "CAN'T LET YOU WALTZ IN LOOKING LIKE A DRENCHED RAT. YOU NEED A NEW CLOAK."

Lune groaned and forced herself upright. "I'm injured, I stink, I only have like 3000 lien left, and now I need to go shopping again."

"THEN TAKE THEIRS," the voice suggested.

Lune stared at the downed thugs, then slowly turned to look at her staff.

"YUP, DO IT."

She paused. "Ok..."

She knelt beside the scarred one, fishing through his coat and tugging out a fat wallet. One by one, she moved down the line. Some with trinkets, a few thick rolls of lien notes, a gold ring or two. By the time she was done, her own pocket felt pleasantly heavy. Lune stood at the alley's edge, counting the stolen lien in her hand. It was more than enough for a cloak, dinner, and maybe even a decent room to sleep if she stretched it right. Her heart wasn't racing anymore, her hands weren't shaking and she wasn't even afraid. That was the part that unsettled her most.

"I just crippled a bunch of guys and stole from them," she said, stuffing the lien into her other pocket. "And I don't feel… anything. I should be freaking out. But I'm not." she frowned, questioning herself. "I never resolved anything through violence, even when people treated me like trash back home."

"MAYBE YOU FINALLY GREW A SPINE." the voice hummed. "THEY WOULDN'T HAVE HESITATED TO DO THE SAME," it pressed. "SO WHY SHOULD YOU?"

"..."

"BUT LOOK AT IT THIS WAY: YOU'RE BECOMING MORE OF A BADASS!" the voice beamed. "SOME MIGHT EVEN SAY THAT YOU'RE... COOL."

"Some might say I need therapy," Lune shot back, walking toward the alley's exit. "But sure. Let's go find a new cloak before I dirtied this one too."

"YOU KNOW, YOU CAN BUY ANYTHING BUT ROBES AND CLOAKS. LEAN INTO THAT SEXY CHARM-"

"Shut up."

A few hours later, Lune stood outside The Luck of the Mountains, the neon-lit sign buzzing above the gaudy doors, now open and spilling thumping bass into the humid Mistral night. Her new outfit was a sharp departure from her tattered cloak - a tailored black coat, crisp white shirt, dark trousers, and a flat cap tilted just so, all bought with the Spiders thugs' lien. Now with a clean look and a full stomach to steadied her nerves, along with the lien and trinkets she'd pawned off from them. She was ready for a night of trouble.

Lune focused her semblance, her aura sparking as she wove an illusion over herself. Her features shifted with sharper jawline, broader shoulders, her rabbit ears vanishing under the guise of a rugged male persona. Checking her reflection in a nearby window, she nodded in satisfaction.

"LOOKING SHARP THERE," the voice said, approving of her new disguise. "I NEVER IMAGINED YOU WOULD PULL OFF A DECENT MALE DISGUISE. WHERE'D YOU PULL THIS HANDSOME BASTARD LOOK FROM?"

Lune's cheeks burned as she replied. "Ninjas of Love, volume twelve. The 'Lone Wolf Ronin' cover art." she smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her illusory trench coat. "Minus the chest scar. And the... other NSFW bits."

"OH MY," the voice said mock surprise. "YOU'RE DISGUISING AS A SMUT BOOK CHARACTER?"

"It's not!" she nearly broke character, the illusion flickering before she wrestled it back under control. "They're well-researched historical romances and-"

"AND STEAMY SE-"

"Shut it!" Lune hissed through clenched teeth, trying to shut the voice up with her own. She sucked in a breath, channeling every terrible customer service interaction into her performance. Shoulders back and swagger in her step. The exact same overconfident strut every Karen had when demanding to speak with her manager.

Still, her illusion disguise was hot. Like, uncomfortably hot. Tall, angular, effortlessly rugged - the dilf type. She caught her reflection in a window and felt a weird flutter in her chest. Like damnnnnn. If he hit on her, she wouldn't even hesitate.

Oum, she was now a heartbreaker, her mind spiraling into a fantasy. She imagined strutting through Vale's markets like this, silencing every sneer with a single glance, charming strangers with a wink, leaving her old retail bosses stammering. All eyes would be on her. The thought was intoxicating, a release of pent-up rage and shame from years of being overlooked.

Lune shook her head sharply. Nope. Nope. Repress. Stuff it deep down next to all the other unaddressed baggage. She adjusted her collar and cleared her throat.

"ANYWAY," the voice snapped her back to reality. "ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO KEEP THAT STAFF AND ILLUSION SEMBLANCE? I COULD SWITCH IT TO ANOTHER FOR YOU."

Lune thought about it for a second and replied. "Nope, I'm good with what I've got."

The club's entrance was a fortress. A line of sharply dressed patrons waited, but the security was tighter than she'd expected. Four bouncers, each built like a brick wall, flanked the doors, eyes scanning every face. A fifth guard, armed with a Dust-powered baton, patrolled the line. Sheesh, the Spiders weren't messing around.

"THEY DO THEIR ILLEGAL GAMBLING IN THE BASEMENT." the voice told her. "NOT THAT IT'S MATTERS SINCE YOU'RE GONNA WRECK THIS PLACE ANYWAY."

She strode forward, bypassing the line of clubgoers. The head bouncer, a mountain of a man with a purple bandana stepped in her path. "Go back to your line." he growled, cracking his knuckles.

Lune exhaled, fingers loosening for what was coming. "Sorry, nothing personal."

THWACK

Her staff snapped up in a blur, cracking across his temple with a bone-jarring sound. The bouncer staggered, his eyes rolling, but didn't go down. Lune pivoted, swinging the other end of her staff into his jaw-

CRUNCH

-the bouncer went down hard on the pavement, a thin line of drool escaped his lips as he twitched. She really hoped she didn't scramble his brains, she thought, wincing. Her new aura made her hits heavier than she was used to, but she wasn't used to its raw power yet.

The other bouncers shouted at her direction and began storming toward her. Lune's body moved on instinct as she readied herself. She ducked a wild haymaker from the second bouncer, using the moment to drive the blunt end of her staff into his gut. The bouncer flew backward, sending him crashing straight into the third bouncer, making them both sprawling into the velvet ropes.

The fourth dashed forward, aiming to disarm her, but Lune sidestepped his attempt with grace and slammed her staff into his knees-

SNAP

-a sickening crack echoed as he screamed and collapsed, clutching his leg. "GRAHHH-"

SMACK

-his scream cut off as she kicked him aside.

The last bouncer finally activated his Dust-powered baton and charged, his weapon crackling with blue electricity. Lune felt her Semblance respond instinctively, she didn't need the voice to tell her what to do. A flick of her wrist conjured a swarm of glass shards, hovering in the air. She then directed those shards at the bouncer's position.

TING-TING-TING

He swung his baton, deflecting them with a shower of sparks. Then he twisted the handle, purple color glow as he activated his Gravity Dust. Her glass shards now orbiting around his baton in a squirl, he redirected the shards and hurtled it back at her.

"Shit!" Lune dove behind a conveniently placed bush, flinching as the shards zipped past her head and shoulders.

"LET'S SEE HOW YOU DO THIS ON YOUR OWN." the voice said, seemingly amused. "I'LL CHEER FOR YOU."

"...Sure." she panted, peering over the demolished bush. "Could you please stay down? I don't have all night." she sighed and wiped sweat from her brow. "Tell me where Lil' Miss Malachite is and I'll walk away." she told the bouncer.

That wasn't a bluff, she really did need Lil' Miss Malachite. Information about the Branwen Tribe's whereabouts weren't going to fall from the sky. Having powers and beating up gang members was fine and all, but she wanted her stuff back.

"Like hell I will!" the bouncer twisted his baton again, now switching to Earth Dust - memories and experiences from working in a Dust store helped her identify them. Rock began forming at the tip of his baton, he then swung it like a baseball bat. The chunk of rock exploded upon impact with his baton and launched toward her like shotgun pellets.

Lune rolled around to dodge the projectiles, feeling chips of marble spray against her back. Okay, enough playing around. She frowned at her own bloodlust. Since when did she enjoy this?

"Okay, this is dragging on," she muttered.

Truth was, she'd been going easy. She'd wanted to test herself, get a feel for how good her semblance and muscle memories were. Now, the big and scary bouncer was nothing more than a fodder-

Wait, no. Why was she thinking like that? She didn't like fighting, so why was she itching to end this? Lune's expression darkened.

With a running start, she launched herself upward, her staff raising high and preparing to bring it down like a hammer. The bouncer responded instantly, waving his baton in an arc and using the Earth Dust to conjure a solid rock barrier to block her attack. Lune tsked and aborted her attack, twisting mid-air to avoid slamming into it. She landed on the ground, her boots skidding as she adjusted her balance.

"Still got a lot to learn…" she muttered.

She then poured her aura into her semblance, creating an illusionary double and making it charged straight at the bouncer. He took the bait and swung at it, his baton shattering the illusion. Lune, now invisible, crept behind him. Her staff poised and she slammed it across his face.

CRUNCH

The metal connected with his nose in a wet crunch, blood spraying as he collapsed, unconscious before he hit the ground. The crowd outside gasped, the silence broken by the sound of scrolls being pulled out. A dozen bystanders recorded the whole fight, their scrolls making clicking sounds.

Lune wiped the blood on her staff clean using the bouncer's shirt, grateful for her disguise. She really didn't want to go to jail in another country.

She knelt by the unconscious bouncer and pried his scroll from his jacket pocket. Using his limp finger to unlock it, she reset the password without hesitation. "Mine now," she muttered. This'll be her temporary scroll, until she finds hers again.

"So, voice," she said, tapping through the settings. "I got the scroll. Now what?"

"YOU CAN HOOK YOUR AURA TO THE SCROLL TO CHECK YOUR RESERVES," the voice piped up as she configured the device. "IT'S IN THE SETTINGS MENU BY THE WAY."

The display showed 89% remaining. She had no clue if that was good or not. "Is this good or...?"

"EHHH," the voice said, "I'D SAY IT'S ALRIGHT. THAT AURA POOL OF YOURS IS KIND OF... MEH."

Lune rolled her eyes, pocketing the scroll and stepped over the groaning bodies. She kicked open the club's doors, the bass hitting her like a tidal wave as she stepped into it. The nightclub 's inside was a chaotic swirl of strobe lights, pounding music, and packed bodies. Sweat, perfume, and alcohol choked the air. Bar booths lined the walls and a DJ spun tracks from an elevated platform. Higher above, a person who she assumed was Silver Tongue is hyping the crowd up. "Mistral, show me your spirit!" he roared, lien raining down from the crowd.

Lune's nose wrinkled. "Oum, it's loud," she muttered, hands briefly covering her human ears.

"FIRST TIME IN A NIGHTCLUB?" the voice teased.

"Yeah, well… there was that one male strip club." she admitted. "But that was a one-time thing."

She wove through the press of dancers and partygoers, ignoring the occasional glance thrown her way. Her illusion drew attention whether she liked it or not - a few girls gave her lingering looks, and she caught a guy biting his lip before quickly turning away. Maybe this disguise was too good.

A woman in a glittery dress batted her eyes, leaning close. "Hey, handsome," she purred, brushing Lune's arm. "How about you buy me a drink?"

Lune froze, her confident facade nearly cracking. Oh shit, she's hitting on me! Her brain short-circuited as she scrambled for words to say.

"PFFFTTTTTT!"

Shut up shut up shut up! Lune thought, her face red under the disguise.

She cleared her throat, voice cracking slightly. "I, uh... I like guys." she blurted out.

It was true, even if she look like a lady-killer with her disguise on, she was still a maiden at heart. The woman blinked, then gave a slow, knowing smile, "Well, can't blame a girl for trying," she said with a wink, and with a sultry wave, she vanished into the crowd.

Lune exhaled, her clenched fists drenched with sweat. Crisis averted, time to drink and never speak of this again.

Before she could even move toward the bar, a tall, broad-shouldered guy stepped in front of her. "Yo," he said, giving her a nod. "Didn't mean to stare earlier, but you've got a look. You here with anyone? You look like you could use some... company."

Lune's eyes widened. What. The. Actual. Hell. Her mind blanked for a second time. Not again!

"AAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAH!" the voice seems to have lost it.

"I'm into girls!" she shouted. "Like, super into girls. VERY into girls. Just... ladies. Only."

The guy blinked, confused. "Uh… huh?

Oum, kill me now, Lune thought while giving him two thumbs up, smile stiff as concrete. "Yeah, I'm super straight. I love women, huge fan of them!" why is she still talking?! Lune cringed so hard she felt her soul leave her body.

"..."

There was a beat of awkward silence before the guy shrugged. "Cool. You do you, man," he said, backing off with a casual wave.

"WHERE DID THAT COOL PERSONA WHEN DEALING WITH THE BOUNCERS GO?" the voice laughed. "GO GRAB A DRINK TO STEADY YOUR NERVES, THEN GET TO WORK."

Lune's ears were heating up from sheer embarrassment as she power-walked straight to the nearest bar, keeping her head down to avoid eye contact with other people. The bar was a sleek slab of black glass, manned by a bartender with a spiderweb tattoo across her hand.

She slid into an empty seat, then glanced over the rows of glittering bottles behind the bar. Crap. She didn't even know what to order. What would a guy order? She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

"ORDER A STRAWBERRY SUNRISE, NO ICE, WITH A LITTLE UMBRELLA." The voice suggested. "IT'LL SET THE MOOD BEFORE YOU TRASH THIS PLACE."

"...A what now?" Lune whispered back under her breath, brow twitching. "Any particular reason for that?"

"YES," the voice said innocently. "GIRL ORDERS A STRAWBERRY SUNRISE... THEN DESTROY A NIGHTCLUB."

"That's oddly specific."

"IT'S AN HOMAGE."

Lune narrowed her eyes. "Wait, was that a reference to somethin-"

Before she could argue more, the bartender leaned across the counter, one eyebrow arched up. "You ordering or talking to yourself?"

"Ah, uh... Strawberry Sunrise. No ice and put a little umbrella there." she awkwardly ordered, sliding the lien to the bartender.

The bartender gave her a long look, then shrugged and turned to mix the drink. She slid the vibrant orange cocktail across, complete with a paper umbrella stabbed through a cherry. Lune took a sip, eyes widening at the sweet, tangy burst.

Oh. Oh no.

The sweet-tart explosion made her toes curl. She'd expected alcohol's usual gasoline-aftertaste, not this... this liquidized joy. Before she realized it, the glass was empty, her tongue chasing the last drops around the rim. The alcohol hummed pleasantly through her throat, smoothing the edges of her earlier humiliation. She twirled the tiny umbrella between her fingers.

"This is… really fucking good," she muttered, then ordered another. "Okay, you were right about ordering this."

The bartender smirked at her starry-eyed expression. "First time?"

"Mmhmm." Lune nodded, then caught herself. "I mean - no! I'm a very manly man who drinks manly... drinks... things."

"EASY, LIGHTWEIGHT," the voice warned as she finished her second cocktail. "BEING DRUNK IS COOL AND ALL BUT IT MIGHT IMPAIR YOUR ABILITY TO FIGHT."

She slid the empty glass back, nodding at the bartender. "Thanks for the drinks," she said. "You should also head outside soon. Things will get really messy." the bartender raised an eyebrow but said nothing, wiping the counter.

Lune stood, brushing her trench coat, steadying herself out of habit. She was not drunk, she needed to make that clear. The voice had a way of making her doubt her own judgment. Her eyes locked on Silver Tongue above the platform, completely oblivious to the fact his bouncers were currently drooling on the pavement outside.

She raised her staff and conjured a physical illusion: a spiraling staircase of shimmering glass ascending to the balcony. The crowd gasped, mistaking it for a light show, as she climbed, each step vanishing behind her. Lune took her time walking up, her boots making no sound on the illusionary construct. The music hadn't stopped, but people were definitely watching now, hushed murmurs following her ascent.

Silver Tongue, wiry with slicked-back hair and a silver chain, froze as she loomed before him, staff in hand. She stopped just shy of the platform and pointed it toward him. His grin faltered for half a second before snapping back into place.

"Well, hello there," he boomed, voice smooth as butter. "That was a neat trick you did there, are you one of our hired magicians?"

Lune tilted her head. "Nope. I'm here to ask you two questions." she held up a finger. "One: do you engage in illegal activities?"

His smile dropped, now wide-eyed. "I beg your p-pardon?"

"One," Lune repeated, slower. "Do. You. Engage. In. Illegal. Activities?"

Silver Tongue blinked. Then he laughed and wiped the tears in his eyes. "Oh, oh, you're serious! No, no, my dear associate, we deal in entertainment. Drinks, party, the occasional high-stakes game. Nothing so tacky as that."

Lune tilted her head slightly. "Really?"

"WELL, THAT'S DISAPPOINTING." the voice muttered.

She ignored it and held up a second finger. "Two: where's your crime boss, Lil' Miss Malachite?"

"Now why would you want to know that? We are running a legitimate business here."

"I asked first." she was fishing, probing for a reason to justify the violence she was about to bring down on this nightclub.

He studied her and the staff in her hand. Then he sighed, like she was a mildly inconvenient customer. "Look, friend, I don't know who you are-"

"Kuro Ronin."

"-Mr Ronin, but this really isn't the way to go about-"

She poked him in the chest with her staff. "Answer the question."

He looked down at the staff, then back up at her. "Or what?"

Lune paused. Huh... or what? She'd been so focused on asking that she hadn't actually considered the or else part.

"OR ELSE YOU BEAT HIM UP," the voice supplied, exasperated. "IT'S NOT COMPLICATED."

Silver Tongue's eyes glinted, and a strange pressure washed over Lune's mind, like honey coating her thoughts. His voice turned persuasive. "You don't want to do this, Kuro. Why don't you head back to the bar, enjoy another drink, and forget this nonsense? No need for trouble."

Lune blinked, the urge to turn around tugging at her-

"NOPE." the voice interrupted, yanking something taut in her head. The sensation vanished in an instant like a snapped cable recoiling, her thoughts clearing. "YOU GOT YOUR REASON TO HIT HIM NOW."

Oh, Right. That. "Cool, that's all I needed." she rolled her neck. "Thanks."

He started. "I'm sorry, what was tha-"

THWACK

His head snapped back, and he crumpled onto his ass, knocking over a wall of speakers while clutching his nose. "OW! What the- " he noticed blood dripping into his mouth.

"Let's try again," Lune said, shaking out her hand.

She slammed her staff into the balcony railing, the clang cutting through the music. Her semblance surged, conjuring a pack of illusory Beowolves with snarling red eyes and claws scraping the dance floor.

SCREECH

The sound was inhuman, ear-splitting. From the shadows, from under tables, from the ceiling - Grimms erupted into existence. The illusion was so vivid the crowd screamed, stampeding for the exits. Glasses shattered, tables flipped and the DJ ran, leaving the music looping.

"GRIMM! RUN!" a patron shrieked as chaos started to erupt inside the nightclub.

"AAAAHHHHHH!" another screamed, running for the exit. The others followed, drinks and shoes abandoned as they shoved past one another in full-blown terror.

"Okay. Now it's just us." Lune turned to Silver Tongue, who was pale and stumbling back. He gaped at her, blood dripping between his fingers.

"W-who are you...?" he asked cautiously.

"Did your mother not tell you stealing is bad?" she jabbed him in the ribs. "Now, tell me where your boss is."

Silver Tongue slowly pulled out a handkerchief and wiped blood from his nose. "I'm afraid I won't discuss anything with uninvited guests." he resumed his professionalism.

"Here's the deal." she stepped closer to him. "Answer my question and you won't get hurt."

The club's MC chuckled, adjusting his collar. "Or what?" he gestured to the panicking crowd below. "You've already ruined tonight's profits." Silver Tongue spat blood and gave her a glare. "You think one man can take on the whole Spiders gang?"

"HE'S STALLING." the voice revealed his intentions.

Lune's eyes narrowed. She could feel it too - the subtle shift in the air as Spiders enforcers pushed through the fleeing crowd and moved into position around the high platform. Several of them were armed with Dust-infused guns.

"FOCUS." the voice said. "TRY MAINTAINING THAT DISGUISE OF YOURS A BIT LONGER, YOU DON'T WANT ANYONE TO SEE YOU."

Silver Tongue suddenly took a step forward, arms raised slightly, voice changing into a gentle, almost fatherly tone. "Listen. You don't need to do this." his black eyes locked onto hers, gleaming faintly.

"..."

Silver Tongue tilted his head, visibly surprised. "Huh. That usually works."

THWACK

Lune's staff whipped across his jaw with enough force to send him spinning into the DJ booth, he spun in the air like a ragdoll and slammed into the base of the speakers. Glass shattered as his aura flared bright before flickering out. He slumped to the ground, knocked out cold as he hit the floor.

BANG

The first bullet grazed Lune's cheek before she heard the shot. Bullets tore through the air as the Spiders opened fire. Three illusionary copies of herself split off in different directions, drawing their aim. The real Lune hurled herself over the balcony and slammed onto the dance floor, hitting the ground hard, breath driven out of her lungs.

More Spiders closed in: two with ice-dust pistols, two with flaming blades, one with a gravity Dust whip, and one with a shock baton. Lune's staff spun, conjuring a storm of glass shards that sliced through the air, forcing the pistol-wielders behind a booth. An ice round exploded near her feet, frost creeping across the floor, locking one of her ankles in place.

"SHIT!"

She twisted free, ripping herself from the ice just in time before-

SSSSZT

-a flaming blade grazed her arm, searing through her Aura with a sharp sting. She hissed through clenched teeth, blood trickling down her forearm.

BANG

A bullet clipped her shoulder, her aura shielded her but not enough to fully absorb the impact. Pain lanced through her, and she stumbled, clutching the wound. More Spiders poured in while she was recovering. Lune conjured a glass shard storm, forcing a few back-

CRACK

-the Gravity Dust whip wrapped around her thigh and pulled her forward, throwing her off-balance. She skidded forward on her knees, back open to a dozen of weapons pointing at her.

ZZZAP

The shock baton stuck her across the ribs, electricity jolting through her nerves and left her breathless. Her muscles locked up, teeth gritted against the pain.

WOOSH

Lune gasped as a knife embedded itself in her stomach, her aura shimmering slightly as it tried to mitigate the damage. A hot line of pain burned across her side as she stumbled back, barely deflecting another strike with her staff.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Even with the voice's implanted muscle memory, her body wasn't that of a Huntsman's. She was fast, but not fast enough. She was strong, but not strong enough. Every block rattled her arms, every dodge left her panting as her stamina slowly depleted. She panted, dropping to one knee, her illusion disguise flickering, threatening to revert back to her true self. Her aura-enhanced her body but she lacked the raw strength of a seasoned fighter, she still has the body of a civilian. Aura can only do so much.

"I'M GOING TO DIE!" Lune screamed, ducking as a Dust round exploded against the wall behind her. She was cornered now, the Spiders closing in from all sides. "I can't- I'm fucking dead!"

"IT SEEMS THAT YOU'RE OUTMATCHED." the voice remarked. "YOUR BODY CAN'T KEEP UP, AURA OR NOT. DO WANT ME TO SWAP YOUR STAFF AND SEMBLANCE? I CAN GIVE YOU SOMETHING WITH FIREPOWER."

Lune panted, blood dripping from her shoulder. She was both exhausted and outnumbered now. A Spider with a grenade launcher stepped forward, grinning as he aim it toward her.

THOOM

A grenade bounced across the dance floor and rolled to a stop near her.

BOOM

The explosion sent her flying backward, crashing into a table. Wood splintered as pain seared through her legs.

"AAAAAAAAAGH!" she screamed, writhing, her aura flashed as it struggled to mitigate the damage, the rest slammed into her flesh and bone. Her legs went numb, then burning, then nothing. Both of them were now mangled, temporarily useless. Blood slowly pooled beneath her as the Spiders advanced, weapons ready.

They saw it too: the limp legs, the blood, her disguise slowly falling apart.

"NOW WOULD BE GREAT!" she screamed her lungs out to the voice.

"FINALLY!" the voice's glee was palpable. Her staff glowed, vibrating in her hands, then melted into her grip. She screamed as the metal staff morphed into something else, it expanded, twisting and reshaping into a floating chair bristling with weaponry.

CLANK-CLANK-CLANK

This monstrosity of steel floated half a foot off the ground, two double-barrel shoulder cannons gleamed on either side, their muzzles crackling with energy. Two platforms hovered beside the chair, each mounting triple-barrel cannons. Two railgun-like cannons, sleek and deadly, extended from the chair's legs.

Lune didn't hesitate. One breath at a time, she dragged herself into the seat, trembling hands smearing blood on the metal. Her breath hitched as she slumped back. The second she did, the entire machine came to life, the chair thrumming as it lifted her off the ground. With a hydraulic hiss, the chair locked her in place. Red lights glowed around her, targeting systems clicking on.

A HUD flickered across the panel, dozens of buttons, weapon icons, radar sweeps, and in the bottom corner: AURA: 60%. Her eyes widened at the number before it dropped to 59%. She blinked blood out of her eyes, and through the fog of pain and smoke, she saw the Spiders slowed, confused... until the chair's cannons snapped into place and opened fire.

BOOM

A shoulder cannon launched a grenade into the dance floor. The explosion tore through a crowd of incoming Spiders, sending them flying into booths and tables.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM

The triple-barrel platforms spat explosive rounds that ripped the floor apart, shattering tiles and furniture, spraying concrete and alcohol-slicked wood in all directions.

Lune's jaw dropped in disbelief. "W-What the f-fuc-"

"FOCUS." the voice barked. "YOUR ILLUSION'S GONE. THAT CHAIR AND YOUR NEW MYSTERIOUS SEMBLANCE WIPED IT OUT. FIND SOMETHING TO COVER YOUR FACE, NOW! THE MISTRALIAN POLICE ARE ON THEIR WAY HERE."

Lune's heart sank, her rabbit ears twitching under her cap as her true form was exposed. She scanned the wreckage of The Luck of the Mountains, eyes landing on a discarded bandana from someone. She jumped from the floating chair, snatching it and tying it hastily over the lower half of her face, leaving only her eyes visible. It wasn't perfect, but it'd have to do.

"HERE WE GO!" the voice crowed. The chair unleashed hell, railguns charged with a high-pitched whine, unleashing beams that punched holes through walls, the club trembling as debris rained down. The Spiders screamed, scrambling for cover, but the onslaught was relentless - tables disintegrated, neon signs exploded, the ceiling buckled.

BRRRRT

"OKAY, SO HAVE YOU EVER PLAYED A SHOOTER VIDEO GAME?" the voice asked casually.

"H-huh?" Lune gripped the chair's armrests, eyes wide as the club became a warzone. She stared at the control panel lighting up under her hands, there were a bunch of statistics on the screen.

"HAVE YOU PLAYED A SHOOTER VIDEO GAME?"

She swallowed. "...S-some."

"GOOD, BECAUSE I'M DONE HOLDING YOUR HAND!" the voice said. "YOU'RE IN CHARGE NOW, MOVE, AIM, SHOOT!"

"W-wait! Did I… did I kill anyone?" she whispered, the sight of crumpled Spiders, some groaning, others still was twisting her gut.

"NOPE." the voice informed her. "YOUR FEEBLE MIND WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO HANDLE MURDER. YOU'D CRUMBLE UNDER GUILT AND I CAN'T HAVE YOU BE LIKE THAT. PERMANENT INJURIES, YEAH. BROKEN LIMBS, BURNS, CONCUSSIONS. THEY'LL LIVE… PROBABLY."

Lune exhaled, relief washing out the uneasiness inside her, eyes with them from her floating metal throne. She pushed a random button on the control panel. The chair responded, zipping forward as she tilted a joystick sticking out of her left armrest. She aimed the shoulder cannons, firing a salvo that obliterated a bar counter, forcing two Spiders to retreat. The triple-barrel platforms swiveled under her command, spraying bullets that pinned down the whip-wielder.

FWOOOOM

She swung the railguns, their beams slicing through a steel pillar, dropping it onto a pistol-wielder with a crash. Lune fired again, vaporizing the floor beneath them in a straight line, the recoil kicked the chair back slightly.

Lune gritted her teeth, her body aching from the wounds. She winced, glancing down. Blood. Her side was still bleeding from earlier, seeping through the fabric. Aura flickered weakly around her as her wound barely healed. A flicker of blue light caught her eye again, AURA: 46%.

"Ughh..." she slumped back into the seat, eyelids slowly drooping. "H-how long... can I keep this up?"

"A FEW MORE MINUTES AT BEST." the voice informed her. "JUST A HEADS-UP, THE CHAIR EATS YOUR AURA TO FUNCTION."

"Is that... why my wound isn't healing...!?"

"YEAH, THAT THING'S A BEAST BUT YOU GOTTA FEED IT AURA TO USE IT."

She wasn't gonna last like this. The chair was the only thing keeping her from being gunned down. She had a choice: keep fighting or heal herself.

Lune maneuvered the chair through the wreckage, dodging a grenade that yanked debris skyward. The Spiders were down to four, scrambling for the basement stairs. Lune aimed the barrels, shooting out multiple grenades that blasted the stairs' entrance, sealing them in with a thunderous explosion. Fire and smoke filled the club, broken lights flickering across the wrecked remains of what used to be a nightclub.

Her breathing was shallow now. Blood pooled under her shirt, the mask clinging to her sweat-soaked face. Fight or heal? Healing meant dropping her guard, risking a bullet to the head. She slumped in the seat, panting, as sirens wailed outside... the Mistralian police were closing in.

Lune's eyes darted to the club's exit, police lights flashing through the shattered windows. The remaining Spiders regrouped, weapons raised. She gripped the joystick, heart pounding. "Screw it," she muttered, making her choice. She slammed the controls, the chair's cannons roaring as she unleashed a final barrage, blasting through the Spiders' cover. Pain screamed through her body, but she pushed forward, the chair carrying her toward the exit.

Outside, police megaphones blared, demanding surrender. "THIS IS THE MISTRALIAN POLICE! SURRENDER NOW!" barricades lined the street, officers aiming their Dust rifles. Her aura flickered, the chair stuttering as her reserves dwindled. She had seconds to decide: fight through the police, heal and run, or find another way out before her aura gave out entirely.

Lune looked down, AURA: 37%. Her vision blurred as the blood loss creeped in. "I can't… keep this up," she shrieked, her wounds pulsing. Her eyes fluttered shut as she slumped forward, fainting before she could decide.

"AND SHE'S OUT." the voice said, its presence surging through her limp form. It hadn't expected her to follow its reckless prodding, to push this far and to bleed out in this chair. She'd exceeded every expectation, but now she was down, and it had to act.

It severed her aura from the chair, redirecting her dwindling reserves to healing. Her body shuddered, the gash on her side knitting slowly, blood clotting. Her breathing steadied, but she remained unconscious, her face pale beneath the bandana. The voice funneled its own essence into the chair, powering it independently. The machine hummed louder, metal grinding as it transformed.

CLANK-CLANK-CLANK

The chair morphed into a hulking war machine, its double-barrel cannons expanding into quad-muzzles, crackling with amplified Dust energy. The triple-barrel platforms became hex-barrel turrets, bristling with explosive rounds. The railguns elongated, glowing white-hot, and armored plates sprouted, turning the chair into a spiked, floating fortress. A mortar deployed from the back of the chair, readying missiles.

Drones lifted off from hidden compartments, wings unfolding as they buzzed through the nightclub, trailing canisters that hissed as they burst, flooding over booths, tables and walls with fine aerosol in every room. With a mental trigger, the voice ignited them.

WHOOSH

A fireball blossomed from the nightclub's heart, consuming it in a roaring inferno. The explosion blew out every remaining window as the trapped Spiders screamed, the fire swallowing their cries as the police outside hesitated, their megaphones drowned by the blaze. Smoke rolled out into the streets like black fog.

The war chair floated through collapsing hallways, its new weapons systems making short work of any remaining structural supports. By the time Mistral's finest breached the building, there would be nothing left but ashes.

Using Lune's limp hands, the voice steered the chair through the side exit, smashing through the half-collapsed doorway into a dark alley. Police lights flashed at the street's end, but the fire kept them occupied.

"I HONESTLY DIDN'T THINK YOU'D MAKE IT THIS FAR," the voice said, half to her, half to itself. "YOU DID EVERYTHING AS I TOLD YOU AND KEEP GOING WHILE LEAKING FROM THREE DIFFERENT HOLES. I THOUGHT YOU SAID THAT YOU WEREN'T A MASOCHIST?"

The chair slid along the walls, the fire behind them lit up the sky, reflecting off windows in orange pulses. Sirens grew as distant shouts echoed through the blocks. Eventually, the chair settled beside a rusted stairwell. One last drone flew up, scanned the area, then zipped off.

It folded back down. Most of its parts retracted into the slim chair again. Its systems clicked into standby mode. The voice now controlling her unconscious body stood her upright, wincing at the stab of pain in her ribs.

"...Ow. That was unpleasant." It groaned through her mouth.

Her body moved unevenly, staggering toward a nearby hotel. A few minutes later, the voice found itself in front of the building. The camera above catches the image of a soot-covered girl slumped against a mecha-shift hoverchair with two miniguns mounted on the sides. The inn's door jingled as it pushed her body inside.

Inside, a bored receptionist looked up from his scroll and immediately froze at the sight of the blood-drenched Faunus dragging herself forward like something out of a horror film. Bits of carbon and dried gore clung to her bandana. Her trench coat was halfway soaked in red and her pants were scorched at the edges.

The receptionist blinked as Lune wordlessly shoved a roll of lien and slapped it on the counter.

"One night," a raspy voice spoke, Its was quite painful to use her vocal cords.

The man's Adam's apple bobbed. "D-don't you n-n-need medical-"

A single finger pressed against his lips. "Listen carefully," It whispered through Lune's bleeding lips. "If you speak of this to anyone, I will remove your spleen through your mouth. Do we understand each other?"

The receptionist paled, nodding frantically, and handed over a key with the number 046.

"Good." the voice took it with Lune's hand, dragging her half-limp body up the stairs. It then guided Lune's body to the room designated, the chair settling by a creaky bed. Room 046's door locked behind them with finality. The voice methodically stripped Lune's ruined clothing, disinfecting each wound before bundling her into the shower.

The chair folded inward, transforming into a sleek medical transport pod as it entered the bathroom. Lune's unconscious form was cocooned in stabilizing gel while the voice monitored her vitals.

The voice adjusted the pod, the panels glowing blue as it pumped chemicals into her system, accelerating her recovery. It took the pillow from the bed, adjusting it beneath her head.

Lune's chest rose and fell, her face pale but calm in the inn's dim light. Outside, the distant glow of the nightclub's fire lit the Mistral sky. The voice adjusted the temperature controls, ensuring Lune wouldn't go into shock.

"YOU FOLLOWED MY REQUESTS TO A TEE... AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN KILL ANYONE. HOW POLITE OF YOU." It chuckled to itself. "I WASN'T BEING SERIOUS WHEN I TOLD YOU TO TRASH THE PLACE, BY THE WAY. WHO EVEN DOES THAT?"

The pod beeped, her heart rate steady, blood pressure climbing back to normal. Internal bone fractures knitting together, burned skin begins to heal. The voice was quiet for a beat, letting the silence sink in.

"AND RAVEN... AH, RAVEN BRANWEN. THAT'S GONNA BE FUN." It hummed in anticipation.

The voice leaned in, an impossible gesture, given it had no form. "I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE WHAT YOU DO NEXT." It whispered in her head, then dimmed the light, letting the room fall into near-darkness.