78,928 casualties.

Amongst them were countless civilians, hunters, and hunters in training.

78,928 casualties.

78,928.

The number rang throughout the woman's mind as she sat down on a slab of rubble, her weapon propped up against a similar pile. The sky was covered in ashen, gray clouds with small rays of sunlight slowly seeping through every so often. Nothing moved or scuttled around the concrete ruins in which the woman sat down sorrowfully. Her head down low, she recollected her past memories one by one. Vale collapsed in on itself as the people began to fight each other. White Fang and its supporters gnawed away at the public's sanity as they watched their protectors fall one by one as they tried to wipe away this cruel, unwanted revolution.

527 hunters.

Renowned and revered hunters.

Hunters that spent their lives slashing away at grimm.

Hunters that were at the point of near perfection.

3,298 hunters in training.

Trainees that the woman knew.

Trainees that the woman used to chat with.

People that the woman used to live with.

A recollection of a boy with blonde hair and a simple sword and shield. A gruesome painted image of the boy's last stand, his semblance finally awakening, but all in vain.

A thought of a pair of two. One clad in green. One wielding a hammer. Grimm swarming from the sky, the land, and even underground. A hell with no end.

A girl clad in white with a girl clad in black, back to back. Machineries that used to protect the people, turn on the ones they were made to protect.

A girl with a strong head and hot temper. Her blonde beauty stills burns brightly in the woman's mind as strong as the days they spent with each other. Her smile still engraved into the woman's head, the woman frowned in discontent.

The woman's forehead creases as her mind wanders further back into memories never forgotten. A red-headed girl turned to embers by a woman of cinders.

'They're gone.' The woman says to herself.

'But not forgotten.' She smiles lightly and chuckles for only a moment, only for it to disappear and shift into a frown.

She raises her weapon up to her head. A scythe she cared for since the day she designed it. Its crimson color stained eternally black by the countless Grimm the woman of cinders released into Vale and no amount of scrubbing and cleaning will ever rid it of the blood of hundreds of thousands of grim. Its appearance had changed drastically since the day her wide-eyed past designed and created it. Its bulky frame was made slender, thus its weight was lessened. Its blade was made sharper, thus its edge could carve through whatever stood in her way. The ammo chamber was made to holster more rounds per clip and the rounds themselves were enhanced with fire dust for more firepower.

She sighed heavily as she lifted the scythe's blade closer to her head.

'It's time, I guess."

The woman had lived an eventful life. One with friends around her who cared and fought with and alongside her. Her mother was gone when she was young, but she always had faint, hazy memories of her stowed away in the back of her mind. Her sister was enthusiastic and always kept her going. It almost seemed like she'd be with her forever.

The woman looked over towards a nearby puddle and stared down at her reflection. She had become what she always wanted to become back then. A skilled huntress, one with a history of amazing feats that always surprised her colleagues. She tried to emulate her mother in a way where she donned a white cloak with a red underside as she steadily made her way up to the highest of honors a huntress could possibly achieve. Hell, she even grew up to look almost exactly like her, as her now gray haired father once said to her. Not that it mattered. Her duty was to 'Uphold the peace of the world.', yet there was no longer any peace to speak of. She couldn't even uphold the peace of her own world.

She slowly inched it closer and closer to her head and neck. Her grip tightens as she readies herself for the next step. She pulls-

…

Bits of the woman's hair fly into the wind- a perfect straight cut, just like she wanted. Not that she was ever good at cutting her own hair. She couldn't do it properly due to not having the tools one would consider orthodox. But, she had a blade- albeit quite big- and she was determined to get a simple annoyance out of the way. Her hair was now just above shoulder height. Unsurprisingly, barbers are quite hard to get a hold of due to most of them hightailing it out of Vale, and the rest dying to either the invading creatures of Grimm or the White Fang. Hell, some of the barbers were in the White Fang themselves. Faunus aside, there were supporters of them that were human and desired total equilibrium between the two races, even going to as far as supporting the Civil War in Vale and fighting and killing those that opposed. People killing People. Adam Taurus must've smile a hundred times as he saw the cities being conquered one by one.

But then, we move on to a whole new level of evil.

Salem's faction effectively had Vale in an iron grip behind the sees as they carried out their list of hits on any forces that could possibly be a threat to their group. Salem had struck a deal with Adam, and their plans worked perfectly in their favor, leaving the opposing hunters and everyone else in shambles.

Nothing really was the same anymore. The years that had passed had left Vale a place of ruin, a place where Grimm walked where people once roamed. Taking out a small device hidden within her cloak, she scrolled through a list of jobs. There was a big difference between most of them. They followed a certain 'side' or extreme. It was either something like this:

SEARCH AND DESTROY

ANY NON WHITE FANG SUPPORTERS

QUADRANT 7

MISSION START: ASAP

Or this:

ESCORT

DUST CACHE

QUADRANT 7

MISSION START: ASAP

Hell, maybe even this:

SEARCH AND DESTROY

WHITE FANG

QUADRANT 6

MISSION START: 14 DAYS

One could guess which side the client was on by just staring at the simple orders. There was rarely any jobs related to the Grimm anymore. The people were more interested on keeping other in check instead of the Grimm. Suddenly, a light beeping sound was heard in a different tab. The woman quickly switched to the tab, saw that she had an incoming call, and picked up.

"...Hello?" She said lightly.

"Ironwood had an idea."

She then promptly hung up.

Nope.

Not dealing with that.

Another call came in.

"R, it's important. You can't just ha-"

"Whatever trump card he's planning, I'm not buying it."

"But it even looks fool proof! Look, I'll give you the details when we meet up, so at least-"

"Fuck no."

Beep.

She sighed in frustration as the wind began to pick up.

"...I'll do the escort mission." She said while rubbing her eyes and yawning.

She walked to a ruined building next to a rundown, but still slightly functional bridge. The area around said building wasn't in a much better shape, either the walls were cracked and riddled in holes or it was only just a pile of rubble. A rusted train lay outside of the ruined building. Inside, she saw a man in a torn, brown trench coat,

"You're the hunter who picked up the job, right?" He said as he stepped out of the shadows. His hair was a deep brown and in tangles; Bandages were wrapped around the man's forehead and stained red. His face didn't seem to be doing any better with the long scars that seemed to crawl down to his neck. The woman only nodded slowly

"Alright." The man says as he clears his throat. "I'm going to load the dust cache from the back of the station onto the train. It may not look like it, but it's still functional. You're going to have keep guard while I do so. When the train starts up, we're both going to have to hop on and hope we reach the destination before the White Fang notice and chase us down."

Work began immediately as the man hurried from to the back and hauled a cart full of dust containers towards the cargo of the train. The woman stood on top of the building keeping an eye out for any would be attackers. The hours ticked by as the moon rose higher and higher into the sky, the man breathing heavily as he continued to push the cart back and forth, hauling containers full of dust to the train. She deduced that under the rough exterior of the man was either a strong will or strong muscles. It didn't look like he had the latter, due to him stopping often to catch his breath and curse under it.

As the moon rose to its peak, the hauling was done and it was time to board the train,

"All Aboard!" The man says loudly towards the woman, cracking a smile.

She jumps down to the ground as she takes one more good look at the rickety, old train.

Could this actually be functional in the slightest?

But the thought dies down as the train begins to whistle loudly. Hurrying aboard, the woman goes to the front to see the man fiddling with controls.

"Do you actually know how to use this thing?" She asked as the flashing controls continued to confuse her. Not that she was all that good with vehicles mind you. Never bothering to get a driver's license, she could at least get the gist of a car but never actually drive it. Much less with a train.

"Yeah, I do. Used this train quite a while ago. A bit nostalgic, actually." The man says as he cracks another smile.

The grinding of gears could be heard throughout the train as it began to move forward onto the bridge, slowly gaining speed.

"We should be fine now, as long as the White Fang doesn't notice us." The man says as he takes a seat. The woman went to the other side of the train car and took a seat against the wall. The hours go by slowly as the train now speeds past yellow, orange, and red leafed trees. She goes into a fitful doze, her sleeping figure constantly rustling around as the same dream plays once again.

White. White snow underfoot in a black forest. Trees that are bare without leaves. The cold wind blowing hard in her face. A grave in front of her. A white figure past it. White petals scatter as she disappears into the wind. The woman's hand extends towards her as the last of the petals get blown away by the wind. A dark, grim feeling flows throughout her as she tries to chase the petals, only to be rooted in place, unable to move.

Her eyes flicker open as the train jumps up suddenly and lands violently back onto the tracks.

"Just another dream." She mutters under her breath.

"What was that?" Surprised, the man looks over to the woman to see her awake.

"Nothing." She says as she moves the stray hairs out of her face. She spends the rest of the time staring out of the window, trees speeding past her. The moon is still high in the sky, illuminating the train car.

"So… uh. Got any family?" The man says slowly, trying to break the silence.

"..." She replies, her eyes slowly turning towards the man.

"Well, uh. I've got a daughter waiting back home for me. She's probably real worried I haven't come back yet. She's a tough girl. I think she can hold up for a little more. Her Ma always was a strong-hearted woman." The man clears his throat. "I really can't stop thinking about my daughter."

"...How old is she?" The woman asks, startling the man.

"She's about 4. Her mother died giving birth. We still miss her, we do."

'His daughter was born into this war.' The woman thought to herself. 'No child should have to deal with this… hell.'

"What about you?" The man asks again, still hoping he's not overstepping his boundaries.

"I used to have some relatives."

"Used to?" He lifts an eyebrow.

"They're long gone now."

"Oh." The other eyebrow goes up as he realizes his mistake. "I'm, uh, really sorry for asking."

"It's fine. You didn't know."

Silence ensues for the next hour as the night seemed almost endless.

"Do you hear that?" The man asks looking around in confusion. The woman stands up, staying vigilant. Listening in, there was a rather faint sound around them. Listening more, she deduces that it's coming from above and hops to the top of the train car.

"Do you see anything?" The man says cautiously.

There was, indeed, something. It was bright red and seemed to be getting much closer by the second.

"Shit."

"What?"

Unsheathing her weapon, she quickly switched to its rifle mode. Aiming carefully, she hurriedly fired several shots from it and found a satisfying red explosion about a few hundred feet above her.

"Hey! How far are we from the location?"

"We're about halfway there, why?"

"They might've found-"

The sound of an explosion could be heard from the very back of the train. The transparent shape of several things could be seen gaining speed to the front of the car.

"What was that?!' The man shouted in surprise. The transparent shapes began to appear visibly- several floating ships were to the left and right of the train and were opening their side hatches to reveal a group of people clad in white uniforms- the White Fang.

"They've found us, damn it!" She says as she fires from her weapon at the attacking ships. The shots take down a ship to her right, but the other ships close in, dropping their soldiers onto the top of the train. Clicking a switch on the side, her weapon transforms back into its scythe form. The woman takes a stance, and seemingly disappears into thin air, only leaving white petals in her absence. The front line of soldiers turn into a fine, red mist as the woman appears back into her original spot. Soldiers keep jumping onto the train from the dropship seemingly infinite.

"How're you doing down there?!" She shouts downwards, only to hear no response. She jumps down, back to the front train car, only to see the man driving it in a pool of blood- a sword sticking out from his back. Gunshot wounds littered his corpse.

"No!" She shouts in anger as she jumps back onto the top of the train. Taking another stance, she darts into the crowd of soldiers at frightening speeds, instantly cleaving through most of the opposition and leaving their parts to fall off the side of the train. The soldiers take a step back in fear as they see most of their comrades die in one swipe. In their eyes, they see something utterly terrifying, a monster wielding a scythe stained with the blood of their fallen comrades. That bloodied image is that last thing they see as their bodies are cut into two by another swing of the woman's weapon, instantly clearing the top of the train and staining it crimson. She takes a look at the surrounding ships, still dropping off more and more White Fang soldiers onto the train's blood stained roof. In the corner of her eye, she sees a familiar bright red light ramming straight into the side of the train, and directly into the dust cache. Her vision goes black.

White. White snow falling down from the sky. She picks herself up once again, wiping the snow away from her figure. How did she end up here? Taking a few steps forward, her blurry vision suddenly sharpens. A grave on the top of a cliff. A black forest behind her. A cold wind blowing across her face. A familiar feeling looms over her. 'The grave should've been blown up by the explosives Salem's faction sent to Patch. None of this should even be here.' She thought to herself.

The grim thought of her dying clouded her mind. Could she be really dead? Is that why Patch is still here? She looked down at the familiar grave once more.

Summer Rose

Thus Kindly I Scatter

She frowned at those words. It was indeed her mother's grave, untouched and not destroyed. Yet something was missing. She buried her father right next to her mother's grave. Its absence confused her.

"Summer?" A voice rang out behind her. Her eyes widened as she turned around. Behind her was a man with messy, blonde hair and blue eyes. The man instantly reminded her of her own father, Taiyang Xiao Long in his early days.

"Mom?!" A young voice called out in surprise from behind the man. It was a young silver eyed girl dressed in a black blouse and a red cloak. The girl reminded the woman of herself when she was younger.

Then it clicked.