The night was still except for the hum of machinery and the distant call of gulls. Team NOVA crouched low on the rooftop, the port below lit by harsh industrial lamps that cast long shadows across the stacked crates of Dust.
Hyunwoo's eyes tracked every corner of the docks, the faint pull in his chest confirming what he already knew—tonight wouldn't end quietly.
Then Jaemin's hand brushed his arm, pointing. "There."
Hyunwoo followed his finger. Near the far side of the dock, two figures emerged. One girl, slim and cautious, bow hiding her faunus ears. And beside her, a boy whose staff tapped lightly against the ground, golden hair catching what little light there was.
"Blake..." Jisoo whispered, tension in her voice.
Jiwon's eyes, steady and unblinking, watched them for a long moment. Then, with his usual quiet tone, he finally spoke.
"I searched for her with Echo Sense for hours. Yet here she stands, right in front of us." His gaze flicked toward Hyunwoo, sharp but emotionless. "You knew this was likely. Why didn't you tell Team RWBY?"
Hyunwoo's answer was immediate, voice firm, eyes still fixed below.
"Because I don't need them here. Not in a place this dangerous."
There was no judgment in Jiwon's look, only calculation—as though he were weighing Hyunwoo's words like numbers in an equation. He gave the faintest nod.
"...I see. Then the burden falls on us."
The rooftop wind was sharp, carrying the tang of salt and iron. Below, Blake and the monkey faunus slipped between the shadows of stacked crates, keeping low as if they didn't want to be seen.
The rooftop was quiet, save for the creak of cargo cranes and the occasional cry of a gull. Down below, the massive containers of Schnee Dust Company cargo gleamed faintly under the port lights.
Jaemin pulled his jacket tighter around him, glancing sideways at Hyunwoo. "Alright, I'll ask. Why exactly are we here? We've been sitting in the cold for an hour watching crates."
Jisoo frowned, whispering, "And now we find Blake down there, sneaking around with some faunus guy. What's going on, Hyunwoo? You dragged us out here like it's life or death."
Hyunwoo's eyes narrowed, never leaving the shadows moving below. His grip on the spear resting against his shoulder tightened.
Jiwon was the last to speak, his voice calm and steady, but sharper than the others.
"You knew she would be here."
That made both Jaemin and Jisoo look at him, startled.
Jiwon's gaze stayed locked on Hyunwoo. "And you knew more than you told us. So, I'll ask again... why are we here?"
Hyunwoo finally turned, his face unreadable in the dim light. His voice was low, even, but it carried a weight that silenced the others.
"Because something is about to happen. And when it does, I don't need you to understand. I need you ready."
The rooftop fell quiet again, but this time the silence was heavier, filled with unspoken questions none of them dared press further.
The night air was damp with sea salt, the scent of oil and iron carried from the freighters lined across the port. From the rooftop, Hyunwoo and his team crouched low, their silhouettes hidden in shadow as the quiet hum of the docks lulled into stillness.
Then came the sound — a distant, rising roar.
Engines.
A bullhead tore through the night sky, turbines shrieking as it descended, its spotlights sweeping the port like a predator's gaze. The rooftop trembled beneath the force of its landing, dust scattering into the wind.
Hyunwoo's gaze never wavered. "It's starting."
The ramp clattered down, and figures emerged. Dozens of them, all clad in black with bone-white masks covering their faces. The White Fang. They moved with precision, no hesitation, as if they had rehearsed this a hundred times.
But then came the figure at the end. His pace was casual, almost arrogant, his cane tapping the ramp as though it were a stage he had walked across countless times before. A pale coat flared around him with every step, and the brim of his bowler hat dipped low, hiding a smile that didn't need to be seen to be felt.
Roman Torchwick.
For a moment, no one on the rooftop spoke. The name hung unspoken, suspended in disbelief.
Jisoo was the first to find his voice, a whisper that barely carried over the wind.
"...that's Roman Torchwick."
The words cracked the silence.
Jaemin leaned forward, his brow furrowed, trying to reconcile the image below with everything he knew. "He's supposed to be in Vale. He's... he's everywhere on the news. But here—" His voice faltered, shock taking over.
Below, Roman spun his cane once, pointing lazily at the crates of Dust. His voice was sharp, theatrical, carrying easily across the dock.
"Move it, animals! We don't have all night. Get those crates loaded before Atlas decides to check their mail."
The White Fang soldiers obeyed instantly, no hesitation in their movements.
NOVA froze.
Jiwon's eyes narrowed, his voice calm but edged with cold suspicion. "...The White Fang. Taking orders from a human?"
The idea hung in the air like poison.
Jaemin's head shook slowly, almost violently. "No. That's impossible. The White Fang would never work with a human. They hate humans more than anything."
Hyunwoo's hand tightened around his spear. His team's disbelief rippled around him, but his own expression was steady, unmoved. His gaze stayed fixed on Roman Torchwick, the smirk, the authority, the ease with which the masked soldiers obeyed.
"...and yet," Hyunwoo murmured, his voice low, resolute, "here he is."
Hyunwoo's eyes tracked Roman Torchwick as he barked another order, his cane slicing through the air like a conductor's baton. Every instinct told Hyunwoo this wasn't just a Dust robbery—this was a piece of something larger. Roman wasn't the kind of man to get his own hands dirty unless it mattered.
He lowered his spear, exhaling slowly.
"Our priority..." his voice was low but sharp enough that his team leaned in, "...is Torchwick. If he slips away, all of this will mean nothing."
His gaze slid to the swarm of White Fang operatives below, masked and armed, shadows darting between crates of Dust. His grip tightened.
"But," he added, steady, deliberate, "we can't ignore them either."
The rooftop went silent. Even the sea breeze seemed to hold its breath.
Finally, Hyunwoo pointed with the end of his spear toward the scattering grunts.
"Two of us will hold them off, keep their hands full. The rest... we take Torchwick."
Jiwon's sharp eyes flicked toward him, calm as ever, though his voice carried a chill. "...You've already decided who, haven't you?"
Hyunwoo gave the faintest nod. "Yeah. I'll take point on Torchwick. One more with me. The other two..." his eyes swept over Jaemin and Jisoo, "...buy us time."
Jisoo's jaw tensed, her hand hovering near her weapon. "Tch. Easy for you to say. They outnumber us ten to one."
Hyunwoo finally looked back at her, eyes steady, unwavering.
"They're not our target. They just need to be delayed. Don't get greedy."
For a heartbeat, nobody moved. The stakes pressed heavy in the air, the line between strategy and suicide thinner than ever.
Then Jaemin broke the silence with a tight, almost nervous grin. "So basically... you're asking us to dance with death while you chase the big fish."
Hyunwoo's lips curled, not into a smile, but into the kind of grim determination that left no room for argument.
"...Exactly."
"On it," Jaemin said while rolled his eyes, his tonfas sliding into place with a metallic click. With a twist of his wrists, the compact blades locked together, forming a short glaive that gleamed under the dock lights. His aura pulsed faintly—Momentum Shift coiling around him like a taut spring, ready to redirect speed and force in an instant.
Beside him, Jisoo grinned, her chakrams whirling around her fingers. With a single step, her body blurred forward, shimmering with afterimages—Burst Step bending the distance between her and the enemy like it was nothing.
"Try to keep up, Jaemin!" she yelled, already hurling a chakram. The spinning blade ricocheted off a rifle, severed its strap, then curved back into her waiting hand as she burst past the staggered soldiers.
Jaemin exhaled slowly and swept forward in her wake, his glaive carving precise arcs. One Fang grunt tried to meet him head-on—Jaemin caught the strike, twisted, and redirected the man's momentum into a brutal throw that smashed him into two others.
Together, the pair became a tidebreaker, cutting the swarm of White Fang before they could push toward Hyunwoo.
Meanwhile, Hyunwoo advanced with Jiwon at his side.
The calm one's staff split into twin blades with a subtle twist, glinting under the floodlights. His eyes seemed distant, unfocused—but Hyunwoo knew better. Echo Sense was at work, Jiwon's aura rippling like sound waves, mapping out every movement within reach.
"Two on your right," Jiwon murmured.
Hyunwoo pivoted immediately, spear sweeping low to trip the first Fang soldier before driving his shaft into the second's chest. Both went down without Hyunwoo even seeing them coming. Jiwon stepped past him with surgical precision, blades cutting clean lines that no enemy could slip through.
And then—Torchwick.
He tipped his bowler hat with mock courtesy, cane resting against his shoulder.
"Well, this is cute. Four kids against an army, and you still think you've got a shot at me?" He tapped his cane against the ground, chamber clicking with Dust rounds. His grin widened. "I'll give you points for guts. Not brains, though."
Hyunwoo leveled his spear. His tone was sharp, steady.
"You're not leaving with that Dust."
Torchwick laughed.
"Kid, I've got more style in one finger than you've got in your whole body. But if you're dying to try..." He spun his cane, its tip sparking as the Dust chamber charged. "I'll show you how the professionals do it."
Behind them, the dock was chaos—Jisoo blinking in and out of bursts, chakrams cutting flashing arcs, Jaemin redirecting entire charges with calm precision. Ahead, Hyunwoo and Jiwon pushed forward, step by step, toward Torchwick himself.
The night air buzzed with tension. The clash was about to begin.