Blake's POV
The streets of Vale never slept — they just whispered.
Steam hissed through broken vents, neon lights hummed like dying stars, and somewhere under it all, I could hear the sound of crates being moved at the docks.
I'd been running since Beacon.
Not from Weiss's words — You're one of them! — but from the silence that followed.
Sun had caught up somewhere along the way. He didn't ask for details, just said, "You looked like someone who needed a tail."
Now he was crouched beside me behind a stack of cargo containers, watching the White Fang load Dust onto an unmarked ship.
"So," he said quietly, tail swishing, "you're sure this Torchwick guy's behind it?"
"I'm sure," I whispered. "Roman Torchwick doesn't move a Dust shipment without getting his hands dirty."
And I was right.
There he was — white suit, bowler hat, smirk sharp enough to cut glass. Talking to Fang soldiers like he owned them.
"Business or pleasure, kitty-cat?" Sun muttered.
"Neither," I said, tightening my grip on Gambol Shroud. "Justice."
But that wasn't what froze me.
It was the girl standing in the shadows behind him.
She leaned against a crate, hair silver-blonde with a faint blue tint, one ear twitching under the flickering lights.
Wolf ears.
A tail.
For a heartbeat, I forgot how to breathe.
"Senti…"
She looked up when I said her name.
And smiled — not the warm smile I remembered, but one laced with something dangerous and sweet.
"Well, well," she said, voice lilting with manic delight, "if it isn't little Belladonna! Oh, I've missed that guilty face. Still playing hero, are we?"
That tone — the same playful tease from childhood, but now with razor edges.
Every word sounded like it might be followed by a laugh or a scream.
"Blake?" Sun looked at me, confused. "You know her?"
"She was—" My throat tightened. "She used to be my friend."
Senti tilted her head, eyes glinting red and gold in the dark. "Used to be? Aww. That hurts, Belladonna. I thought we were family."
Torchwick turned at the sound of her voice, frowning. "You two know each other? Wonderful. Maybe we can all hold hands and talk about it after you stop staring and start shooting!"
Senti's grin widened. "Shoot me, Roman. See what happens."
Torchwick hesitated — and that was enough.
The first Fang soldier lunged toward her.
Senti moved like music — two blades flashing in arcs of crimson light, sparks bouncing off metal.
She laughed, a bright, almost melodic sound.
"Oh, I missed this! The rhythm, the noise, the fear!"
Her Aura flared — a burning red outlined with gold, casting her in living firelight. Every movement was graceful and terrible, a dancer in a world made of knives.
Sun swore. "What the hell is she?"
"Not what," I said quietly, "who."
And I ran forward.
"Blake, wait—!" Sun's voice faded behind me as I dodged through crates, closing the distance.
"Senti!" I shouted. "Stop!"
She froze mid-swing — for a moment, the madness in her eyes softened, almost human.
Then another voice slipped out of her mouth — colder, smoother, too calm.
"You shouldn't be here, Blake. You ruin everything you touch."
Her tone changed again, this time lilting and sweet. "But she's so cute when she thinks she can fix me, isn't she?"
The next moment, she was laughing again — wild, free, unhinged.
Sun's staff caught one of the Fang soldiers trying to flank her, knocking him unconscious. "You friends are insane!"
"Not anymore," I said, heart breaking as I looked at her.
Torchwick shouted something, but the sound drowned under the chaos — Fang gunfire, Dust crates exploding, and Senti singing under her breath.
"Oh, the pretty lights," she murmured, spinning between bullets like a storm of silver and red. "Don't they remind you of Menagerie, Blake? The festivals? The lanterns? So bright… until someone snuffs them out."
Her laugh caught halfway — sharp, bitter, almost pained.
"Oops. Guess I did that, huh?"
I reached her before she struck again, catching her wrist. "Senti, please! You don't have to—"
She looked at me — truly looked — and the chaos stopped for a heartbeat.
Her eyes flickered between red and gold, and four voices layered under her breath:
Joy's giggle, Logic's monotone, Cruelty's whisper, Charm's heartbreak.
"I missed you," she said softly. "But you should have left me dead."
Torchwick saw his chance. He jumped into a Bullhead, Dust crates loaded, and shouted down over the engines.
"Sorry to break up the reunion, ladies, but I'm not getting paid to die here!"
Sun vaulted onto the cargo ramp, shouting, "We're not done, Torchwick!"
The engines roared. Wind ripped through the docks.
Senti wrenched her hand free, laughing again — the sound brittle this time, almost cracked.
"Go," she said. "Go chase your fairy-tale villain, Blake. That's what you're good at."
She turned away, shoulders trembling. "Leave the monsters to me."
By the time Atlas forces arrived, the docks were fire and smoke. Torchwick escaped.
Sun dragged me away as the Bullhead vanished into the sky.
I looked back once — through the flames, I saw Senti standing alone, Aura flickering like dying embers.
Her voice carried faintly through the chaos.
"Don't come back, Blake. Next time I see you, I won't know which one of me you're talking to."