House of cards

Cinder watched the teacher babble something that is very uninteresting for a few seconds, before twisting her face in disgust and looking away, sighing.

The book on accounting that she had used to read during this class rested at the bottom of her bag, unused. Not because she had given up on helping Jonathan, but simply because how many times Cinder had read it, she no longer needed a text in front of her eyes. Nor does she need any reminder of what she had read in order to recall any page from the book with photographic accuracy.

Something that barely made Cinder happy. Because, even after she had thoroughly studied the entire book, Cinder still didn't understand the material. Even if she could remember and regurgitate the abbreviations and forms of accounting to pass a test, she still couldn't understand the gist of the matter. Namely, on the general logic of managing finances.

It seemed that there was no logic at all in dozens of intricate forms and records that could teach her how to do the job. Formulas, numbers and coefficients appeared out of nowhere and disappeared into nowhere, the rules for filling and counting were clearly invented by the most brain-dead of brain-dead officials. Idiots who want to see people in agony and torment, as they try in vain trying to remember all the dozens of columns of expenses and income and hundreds of numbers and percentages...

Cinder exhaled noisily, ignoring the children around her, before lowering her head in her hands.

This is definitely not helping Jonathan in any way!

The teacher, whatever her name was, Cinder had already forgotten, it looked disapprovingly at Cinder... Although, no, it would be more correct to say that Cinder never remembered her name instead. The teacher, instead of commenting on Cinder's behavior, preferred to look away instead.

Cinder did not pay attention to what the other students were doing in the class at the moment nor what the teacher was teaching. But, given that they were currently going through only the simplest of arithmetic, something that Cinder had learned a long time ago, any attempt by the teacher to catch Cinder by a surprise question was doomed to failure from the very beginning.

So, after the first few attempts to make Cinder pay attention, and perhaps reprimand her, the teacher was forced to give up. Maybe, after looking at the fact that Cinder was not bothering the rest of the students, and was spending her time reading a book, the teacher decided to leave her alone.

The rest of the kids also did not pay attention to the newcomer.

On the first day, especially after her 'unique' introduction, Cinder was a hot topic for discussion. Many of the children walked up to her bothering her about useless things like her hobbies or her favorite TV show. It didn't last long.

When the next day, one of the class 'leaders' returned to class with a huge black eye, and was mum to all questions, he was the next 'hot' thing to talk about. And when the class needled him enough to talk, the only thing he said was to warn everyone that Cinder Fall, the new student, was a girl who should not be approached. The class quickly put two and two together and quite quickly came to a tacit agreement to ignore Cinder.

For an ordinary child, this would be a very strong blow and would ruin their days. Indifference and alienation from an entire class was too much for an ordinary child to bear.

Cinder was not an 'ordinary' child.

Cinder, when she realized that the whole class was keeping their distance, welcomed it instead. She didn't want to interact with the snot-nosed brats anyway. So, during the course of the classes she ignored them all in turn. And, when school was done, she immediately returned to Jonathan.

In other words, Cinder was absolutely happy with her current situation.

Right now however, she was frustrated by the fact that the accounting book was useless, and she can't help Jonathan!

Cinder breathed in slowly, then, unable to contain herself, let out a low growl, causing the teacher to stop her lesson for a second, and then staring at Cinder. Seeing nothing wrong, she then continued her explanation of some simple example for the class of idiots around Cinder.

How annoyed she was with all this… useless things. These useless activities, these stupid children, this difficult book, the teacher blabbering something just above her head.

Well, she hated all of it.

Although, of course, in the first place, Cinder was annoyed that, despite all her attempts to somehow help Jonathan, she had not yet found any success.

She couldn't cook because of school, couldn't spend time with Jonathan, couldn't do any accounting… And that damn Neo.

Cinder, whose thoughts about Neo could not be said in polite company. Neo, that Little, Useless, Mute, Shit! Cinder grabbed the edge of the desk till her hands go white, so as not to growl in anger. Luckily she got her Semblance under control before she could burn this whole class to the ground.

No matter how you look at it, most of all, Cinder hated the fact that every day Jonathan became more and more… Different.

No, no, never, Cinder would never even think of criticizing Jonathan!

Cinder wanted to hit herself in the face with all her might because she even thought of such a thing in her head.

Cinder loved Jonathan the way he was. And for example, even if he told her tomorrow that he was engaged in the slave trade, Cinder would not mind at all. She would even help him as much as she could...

But nowadays, Jonathan doesn't look... happy.

And that was the worst.

Cinder was happy.

It doesn't matter how much she was annoyed by the school, classes, other students or even Neo.

Cinder was happy.

She was enjoying every second she was free, every moment that she spent with Jonathan. Every second of her life was happy, and that was all thanks to Jonathan.

But Jonathan… Jonathan didn't look happy. Every day lately, he has become more and more... Gloomy. Sad. Thoughtful.

Cinder wanted to do something for Jonathan, help him with something. Whatever help he might need! But Cinder could do nothing to help him.

She couldn't even imagine what she could do for Jonathan.

And it annoyed, angered, provoked Cinder the most...

Cinder wanted to burn the table in front of her, barely able to hold herself back at the last second. But still, realizing that even now Cinder was completely powerless to do what she wanted.

But Jonathan had nothing to do with it… it was because she was weak.

Jonathan was the only one who was not only innocent, no, he was the only one who suffered from Cinder's weakness.

Everyone around her was to blame.

These stupid kids, these brainless teachers, Neo, Miss Sunny, the twins, hunters, the useless police, the corrupt officials, the accounting book that she couldn't understand, the school, desk, window, bad weather, and most of all, Cinder herself.

Cinder took a deep breath as she looked out the window.

She could only hope that Jonathan could help himself… But, Cinder believed in him. Jonathan was strong and good. Cinder might be weak, but Jonathan was strong. He can do everything himself. And everything will be fine again. And he will stop worrying…

Cinder's gaze slid across the window, before noting something that made Cinder frown.

'A bunch of police cars rushing somewhere, it's weird that they don't use their sirens though...' Cinder looked at the rapidly passing convoy of police cruisers.

'Where are they all going?'

After a second of thought, and finding no way to answer this question, Cinder gave up. She averted her gaze, resigning herself to boredom until the lessons finished, noting only the darkening sky over Mount Glenn.

***

Lyme peered out the window to the darkening sky beyond, trying to determine whether it was about to rain on Mount Glenn. And more importantly, whether he should take an umbrella with him or not. Calculating that so far the darkened sky seemed to not threaten to turn into a downpour anytime soon, he decided to risk it and not take an umbrella with him.

Pulling his coat over his shirt, Lyme headed out from his apartment, locking the door behind him before heading down the stairs.

The place where he was staying at the moment was not his, and Lyme was not even sure who this apartment was registered to. A single mother with three children? A rich banker? A retired military man? Or was it just another 'diplomatic property' of the Atlas Embassy at Mount Glenn? Not that it matters much, his job doesn't really depend on him knowing that.

Having made his way to the street and once again making sure that there was no rain, Lyme hurried down the street without looking around, acting normally. Trying to look not suspicious has always been the most suspicious thing to do and the thing that draws attention the most. Lyme knows this as fact, him and the other employees of the Atlas Special Diplomatic Department.

Lyme quickly made his way to a parked car. As he sat in the driver's seat, he adjusted the mirror. It was something that any conscientious driver does normally, while at the same time giving him the chance to look behind him.

Clear.

Of course, Lyme was not expecting that he would see anyone following him, he hadn't done anything to warrant the attention. Old habits do die hard.

Especially after eight years in Mistral.

Having adjusted the mirror, with an easy turn of the wrist, Lyme started the car.

As the car trudged along the streets of Mount Glenn, Lyme couldn't help but start thinking about the 'mission' he's in. It's already... a month or so? Somewhere like that amount of time, Lyme and his guys had spent that time carrying out the order of Caiser in this Brother-forsaken place. All in order to track down an elusive criminal, a bank robber to be specific without any certainty that their target was here at all.

Lyme was not even sure if they should have looked for someone like that in this place at all. That is, seriously? Mount Glenn? The place was too small to try hiding yourself using ill-gotten money and too big to ride out the storm while hiding. It was an absolutely useless place with no prospects for a hardened criminal that dared to steal from the Schnee…

Unless, of course, the person who has just robbed the Schnee family for millions of liens decided to suddenly move away from his criminal life, open a small shop and live for his own pleasure until the end of his life, honestly working as a manager or something.

Lyme might have chuckled at the ridiculous notion if not for the years of training that had trained him not to put even a hint of emotion on his face.

Lyme's gaze, that was previously watching the road like a hawk, suddenly noticed a police cruiser passing by. Then another, and another...

Lyme gradually slowed down, letting the cruisers pass while making sure that nothing was following the police, and he had to do a swift u-turn to avoid danger. Seeing nothing he slowed his car further signalling for a turn, while looking in the side mirror.

Or, at least, that's what it might seem to an outside observer.

Lyme's gaze slid a little further, his trained peripheral vision in the direction of the past cruisers.

'Hmm that's… towards the Military Headquarters?' Lyme easily identified the only significant place that this road led to. 'What the fuck?'

This is what Lyme was talking about.

Mount Glenn has always been a dump, a reservoir for all of Vale's questionable politicians and a place of exile for the guilty but still useful fuckers. A den of corruption and crime…

Although, Lyme chuckled inwardly again, not allowing even a hint of his emotion to slip across his face - this place was far better than Mistral. Much better indeed, there was no Aifal around…

Lyme, a man that is in no way superstitious, after one mention of The Big Good Man of Mistral still took a brief glance in the rearview mirror, checking to see if one of the many people that man employed was sitting behind him before continuing on his way.

Lyme had lived for eight years in Mistral. He knew that even within his own mind, he could not be completely safe talking about that person.

Exhaling internally, Lyme continued on the road to the embassy.

There was always something illegal going on at Glenn Mountain, and Lyme always felt like he was sent here, along with his guys, to keep an eye on things like this. All to impose a 'framework' of order on such activities. Activities ranging from the drug trade smuggling to Vale, keeping Schnee's money safe, and up to looking for information providers.

In general, doing everything that 'special diplomats' usually did.

Lyme was very surprised that instead of that, they had to look for some bank robber…

But Lyme always followed orders, and therefore had spent an unnaturally long fifteen years in the service of the Special Department.

A period of time that is considered too long for the service of a 'special diplomat'.

Contemplating on the various 'accidents' his peers had had in the past, Lyme finally arrived at the embassy, ​​As he exited his car, he began looking around, a bit more blatantly now that it is not at all suspicious.

First, he inspected the various cars parked around him; a limousine for official visits and travels, Tome's car is also in place. Rosie's car… was missing. That ugly creation of the Mistral car industry was hard to miss… it looks like she's delayed. Satisfied with his reconnaissance, Lyme started heading inside.

B​ut, before he could take a step, some inexplicable sixth sense made him look around again.

And Lyme is used to trusting his intuition. That is why he was still alive after all.

Tome's car… The Limousine… A passer-by…

Lyme paused, narrowing his eyes before moving his gaze from the guy to the store sign behind him so that he wouldn't feel his gaze. But there was no mistake, he recognized him.

Height… Weight… Age…

Lyme quickly took a glance at the guy, more directly this time. The man was walking quite irritably, lost in his thoughts, destination unknown...

Lyme can't help but grin inwardly.

Of course, Lyme believed that he should have been doing real work and not waste time looking for some kind of robber. But this was no reason to ignore such an easy task.

Outwardly, however, Lyme did not change his facial expression at all, and without showing any change in his gait headed towards the entrance to the embassy.

Who would have thought that his target would actually be found in Mount Glenn?

***

"Yes." Night nodded, looking at Ozpin's unusually serious expression on the scroll's screen, just as seriously. "Yes, I understand. I'll let Olivia know. Okay. Thanks, headmaster."

A moment later, with a last nod, Headmaster Ozpin's visage disappeared from the screen of Night's scroll, now replaced by the violet-blue wallpaper with twinkling stars that mimics the Remnant's night sky, as seen from Vacuo, Night's homeland. Usually this view calmed Night's emotion and calmed him down - otherwise he would not have ordered the custom background. It cost forty liens for Brothers' sake!

It usually did, but definitely not now. Unfortunately, right now, no view of the night sky, no matter how nostalgic and apropos, can calm Night down.

Putting his scroll away for a second, Night took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts before dialing Olivia.

And here I thought this would be our best mission… Damn, I wanted to take Olivia to the movies, she wanted to see that damn comedy. Why did I buy the tickets in secret… Ah, that's right, I wanted to make it a surprise for her birthday, yeah… And here we are about to fight a Super-horde with no backup in sight… Fuck it all, and fuck my life...

One ring, two, then three, after which Night's scroll flickered to light and the lifeless icon of an ongoing call changed to Olivia's face. One look at her face, and Night had to repress the urge to curse.

Night did not bring her any good news, and he did not expect good news from Olivia either. But, one look at Olivia's face was enough for him to realize that whatever news he wanted to hear right now was clearly not what Olivia was going to tell him.

"I told Mr. Creek everything," Olivia answered shortly.

Night froze for a second, expecting the reply, but inwardly praying that he would not hear something terrible in response to his next question, "And how did he react?"

At the questions, Olivia's face darkened for a second, and his heart sank even before he heard the answer. "He had just been arrested."

Night paused for a second, trying to figure out if he had heard what was said correctly, before swallowing slowly and continuing, feeling his fingers grow cold. "Why?"

"Some kind of corruption scandal." Judging by Olivia's expression, she did not doubt for a second that this was at best nothing more than a pretext for the arrest, and at worst a naked power grab. Before Night could ask another question, Olivia continued. "We need to get out of here."

"Ozpin said the same thing." Night answered with a deep sigh.

Creek was arrested, their contact with the Mount Glenn Army... An army that was supposed to help them with the Super-horde right on the horizon…

Night felt a spike of adrenaline running through his system as his heart thundered in his ears. The finals for the 'Championship for Future Hunters of Vacuo' was the last time he had felt this sensation. Back then it felt like his whole life was on the line… Night guessed that it is quite literal right now.

"Pack your things, I already called Roman and Gretchen," Olivia ordered shortly. "In half an hour they will be at the bullhead station. You have ten minutes."

"That's not eno…" Night was about to mention the reserves of dust that they gave for storage to Creek, but did not have time to finish his thought.

"THEN SCREW IT!" Olivia, always the calm and balanced one of their team, easily broke into a scream that responded with a chain of goosebumps that ran down Night's spine.

Night blinked in confusion, staring at Olivia's face before realizing something.

She was afraid.

Olivia was very afraid.

Night took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He was her partner, he needs to be strong. - "Everything will be fine, Liv. Believe me."

"I hate that nickname," Olivia reacted unusually sluggishly to his teasing, but Night was glad of it. If Olivia is angry with him, then some part of her emotions and thoughts is not occupied by fear. He can work with that.

"I... We need to get out. I don't know what's going on here - and I don't want to know." Olivia shrugged. "Okay," Night nodded seriously and confidently.

"Go straight to the airport Night. We'll be there soon." And then Olivia just looked up, looking straight into Night's eyes and smiled wearily. "And yes, I'm waiting for you."

"Wait and preen, Olivia. You still owe me a date from that blackjack game!" A second later, Night laughed as he looked at Olivia's angry face before ending the call.

"Okay," With the end of the call, Night stopped laughing instantly and shifted his gaze downward, feeling a stringy and unpleasant emptiness inside. If he had lingered, Olivia would have seen how fake his laugh was. So, he had to provoke a reaction from her.

"Okay, this is okay." Night stuffed the scroll into a pocket, and then got up from his seat, walking briskly into his teammates' room. It's quite lucky for him that his teammates needed him to pack, otherwise Olivia would have opposed him touching her underwear. Roman would have definitely yelled at him, fearing that Night would find his stash of pictures of a drunk Olivia. And Gretchen would have killed him if he had approached her things.

But the situation at the moment was no joke, Night sensed in his gut that their time was running out.

It was like watching an avalanche in motion. It slowly started from one falling pebble, then it grew more and more. Finally, the center cannot hold, and one last pebble would turn into an avalanche swallowing the surroundings. And they only had days, no, hours, perhaps even minutes before just one more snowflake turned into a huge avalanche.

As he packed, Night took a look outside the window. The dark clouds over Mount Glenn outside the window were swelling, now turning into a viscous black mass. It was any moment now, and the unsuspecting people of Mount Glenn would be struck by a stream of black rain…

***

Creek looked up at Zoen, looking at him closely in fact. Not that he can do much other than stare, his hands were handcuffed and put behind his back. Even now, sitting here, enduring the 'interrogation', the situation has not changed. Mont Glenn would soon drown under a Grimm tide, and its walls are undefended.

Zoen stood opposite him, slowly smoking cigarette after cigarette, staring intently at Creek like he would 'crack' for some reason.

For the past few minutes, Creek had said nothing. When he was arrested, he also said nothing. Zoen reciprocated, and the silent game between the two old acquaintances continued on and on.

Creek never liked Zoen. So pathetic and unpleasant, he looked like the chewing gum sticking to his boot. Something that you want to remove, scrape off your boot without touching it with your hands, all to no avail. There would always be a sticky trail left behind, with its impossibility of removing slowly driving a person mad.

Zoen also looked at Creek. Zoen had always envied Creek's appearance. Zoen was short, balding, skinny and sickly looking, with watery eyes, almost colorless in fact. While Creek was tall, muscular, with a clear jawline, and a strong-willed face. He had excellent hair, and the scar running across his cheek did not disfigure him, giving him the incredible charm of an old hardened warrior and the brutality of a real man instead.

But they were similar, more than anyone would have expected.

Both of them were members of the armed forces. Both of them were extremely influential people in Mount Glenn. Both were way too close to Bor. And both loved to smoke.

"Want some?" After smoking a third cigarette on his own, Zoen offered the silent Creek a cigarette.

Creek only looked up at him like he's looking at an idiot, then pulled his hands, still handcuffed behind his back. Creek's goat a point. Can't really smoke with handcuffs on.

"I'll light it for you," Zoen smiled at Creek, but the latter only gave him a cold look, not saying a word, and settled himself more comfortably in the interrogation chair.

"Well, your loss," Zoen shrugged, taking out a fourth one for himself before putting the pack aside.

Taking another drag, Zoen smiled, then glanced at Creek, who remained silent as well. Zoen, after waiting a few seconds and taking another drag, sighed, he couldn't stand the silence any longer. "Okay, you won. I'll start talking."

Zoen took a few steps, sitting down opposite Creek, and then looked at him closely, - "Mount Glenn is doomed."

Creek frowned at his words, but didn't say anything, either acknowledging the truth of Zoen's words, or continuing his game of silence.

"With or without Vale, it has no chance of surviving," Zoen continued with an affirmation, not allowing the slightest doubt in his tone of voice, and then glanced at Creek, who remained silent. "Even if we overthrow Bor and force the government to send a signal for help to Vale, it is useless. It's going to take at least a week for Vale to gather and send an army." Zoen took another drag before continuing.

"There's no point in a general evacuation either. If we inform the population, the horde will only grow larger or worse come even sooner. The army will not be enough in any case, but a call for evacuation will only make it worse… And how are we supposed to muster the army and send it to fight if we do not tell the population about the horde? I don't think a full mobilization would be all that discrete."

Zoen paused, then took another drag before glancing at Creek. "Mountain Glenn could not be saved." After that last remark Creek's expression finally changed.

"Then…" Creek started talking. "If there's no point in it either way, just start the evacuation. The metro system is still working…"

"Barely" Zoen scoffed. "You know Mount Glenn's antipathy towards Vale, trains no longer run on the metro. That tunnel is abandoned, nothing more than a death trap. Almost two hundred kilometers underground, in crumbling tunnels on a long route to Vale on foot. Plus - we need permission…"

"We don't need permission." Creek looked up at Zoen, watching him light a new cigarette. "We have an army, and we must ensure the evacuation of the people."

"So? How will the evacuation go if you announce it?" Zoen just drew in the smoke once more, looking at Creek like he's a naive idiot. "They'll panic and attract more Grimm. More Grimm means more panic… Give up Creek, Mount Glenn can no longer be saved."

Creek just fell silent as he leaned back in his chair. He closed his eyes before talking again. "Then I have nothing more to say to you."

"Don't be in a hurry to kill yourself yet." Zoen, however, only sighed. "I have a suggestion."

Zoen grinned at Creek's silent rejection before continuing. "Evacuate with us. I already warned 'people', and they urgently want to leave Mount Glenn." Zoen lowered the hand holding a cigarette, shaking off the ashes.

"Bankers, tycoons, businessmen, politicians are all already on the tarmac. Let Bor rule Mountain Glenn for another week or two. It's going to be destroyed to the ground anyway. We can fly away, right now," Zoen grinned. "And, you know, those people that I had warned? They'll be very grateful to me… Especially when I let them take off and leave this place. They are willing to be very generous in exchange for my help. So? What say you?"

Creek did not answer, not even bothering to open his eyes.

Zoen stayed silent for a few more seconds, before sighing and extinguishing his cigarette on the ashtray. "As you wish, it's your funeral. You know, Bor is very angry with you, so you will most likely be executed soon. Although you may rejoice, you will not live to see the destruction of Mount Glenn."

Creek said nothing again, forcing Zoen to exhale once more and rise from his seat. "It was nice chatting to you, Creek. Good luck and goodbye." Zoen then walked away, leaving Creek to sit silently in the interrogation room.

An hour later, when Bor tried to call Zoen to inquire about Creek's condition, he unexpectedly discovered that the scroll of his loyal ally was now blocked.

The airship with Zoen and his family on board had left Mount Glenn ten minutes earlier.

***

"Commander Creek has been detained," Captain Decimus' words were muffled as they complained.

"We already know," The other two captains replied in unison.

One of them, Urd, made his way to the table where the other two were, then fell into a chair, looking at his fellow captains. "What are we going to do?"

"What can we do?" Aisa looked at her comrade in arms and exhaled. "It's an official arrest, warrants and all"

"I call bullshit when I see one," Decimus clenched his fist. "There's no mistaking it, it's about the Super-horde. Someone shit their pants and decided to keep the commander from doing anything."

"And he did it", - Aisa shifted her gaze. "So, what now?"

Everyone in the room thought for a moment before a grim determination appeared on the faces of the three captains.

"I'll speak to the soldiers." Decimus got up from his seat.

"I'll open the warehouses and armories." Aisa looked gloomily at the two men.

"I… I will contact any allies I can call," Urd also nodded.

Commander Creek was not a perfect person, but nobody is perfect. While commander Creek was associated with corruption, neck-deep in it in fact. He was also one of the few people who actually tried to act for the good of Mount Glenn.

It rarely did anything, the bureaucrats got in the way most of the time… but at least he tried.

But Commander Creek's arrest? Right now, on the brink of Mount Glenn's greatest disaster? That was too much.

The three captains, staying in Mount Glenn's temporary headquarters, couldn't afford it. Not now.

Creek's arrest was the final straw.

The bureaucrats could not protect Mount Glenn.

And if the politicians could not do it, then the army will have to step up.

***

Usually a thunderstorm starts when the first lightning flashes. As if this is the official start of a thunderstorm, a flashing lightning signifies the beginning of a disaster.

Lightning flashed over Mount Glenn, breaking through the black, viscous clouds.

A slight tremor caused the chandeliers to wiggle in Mount Glenn's elite establishments, and several people swayed in place, leaning against nearby objects to remain balanced.

It was a small tremor, barely strong enough to call it an earthquake. Perhaps even only one or two points on the scale…

But, Mount Glenn had never experienced an earthquake before.