A/N: Oh god this came out so late…

So I started working a second job. I am now officially working about 66-72 hours every week. So I've been thinking about this story and its progression recently now that I've gotten 11 chapters deep into it and I've come to the realization that I never really planned for it to get this far. I never actually wrote down the entire plot! I wrote the ending I wanted and that was about it.

So now that I'm here, I'm worried how I'm actually going to continue the story and finish it through the middle part.

Either way, these are just my rambling thoughts!

Hopefully you guys continue to enjoy my story!

Here is chapter 11!

Favors – Chapter 11

"…I thought Atlas was supposed to have some of the most intelligent programmers in all of Remnant…?" Roman muttered to himself as code sprawled down his screen. Why these people believed that using a buffer with a set size was going to be a smart idea was completely beyond him. It's like these people took intro to computer science, dropped out early, and then went on to work for the biggest companies –relying entirely on the power of the internet and other people's libraries in lieu of actually learning the material.

When he had the damn thing remade from scratch and the firmware/software uploaded into the damn Paladin core he had been expecting to face serious levels of security. He was expecting full blown usage of AES, Blowfish, or possibly RSA in some strange fashion but was met with the incredible and just impossible to break…DES algorithm…

Data Encryption Standard…

The one method of encryption that had been phased out literally years ago due to the ease that hackers had defeated it with.

It amazed him how lazy people could get when they weren't challenged in any way –these 'researchers' and 'programmers' had their cute little cushion jobs and whenever anything went wrong they just made the shit ball roll downhill.

So one buffer overflow exploit, lots of headaches, three violent threats, and a quick phone call later, Roman had hit pay dirt.

"Haaaaaaa…" Roman sighed loudly, leaning back into his chair, stretching his cramped back. Sitting hunched over for several hours could do terrible things to a man's back as he quickly found out, a stinging pain shooting down his spine. But regardless of the pain, Roman began thinking once more on the Yellowbrick Research Foundation.

AI in Remnant is pretty widespread, especially in places like Atlas where most of the military is comprised of autos like the AK-130, but everywhere else, it's pretty much a fringe science. So what the hell are the boys at Schnee RnD doing researching advanced AI. Roman thought to himself as he reached over, grabbed his mouse, and opened up another set of files.

According to what I've been able to steal from their servers, Schnee researchers have been focusing on…his eyes squinted as he read the title of the research paper…machine learning. A branch of study not given much thought I see…What the hell are these supposed to even mean? Clustering, Bayesian Networks, Artificial Neural Networks? Sounds like a bunch of bullshit.

Of course, most of these machine learning algorithms had been fully abandoned, abscond in their infancy, and only one had actually been on any use apparently -artificial neural networks.

Roman read on, his eyes lingering on every word as he tried his best to make heads or tails out of the complex jargon presented before him. He slowly pieced it together and began jotting down his thoughts onto an open document.

According to what he was reading, machine learning was supposed to be a technique that AI could use to learn, sort, and recall new information as it was dynamically presented to them. Several methods of machine learning popped up, the most interesting being artificial neural networks –a learning algorithm inspired and modeled after the biological neural network present in living beings.

While he couldn't truly understand the specifics that were presented, Roman understood the core concept fully.

The Schnee Dust Company, backed by the Atlas military were creating machines that could learn like living, breathing, humans.

For what reason, he could only guess, and his guess was quite far-fetched –he considered it an idea that lived on the outskirts of possibility, in the fringe that resided between science and fiction. An Idea that was so dubiously impossible that he wouldn't believe, even if it was presented before his own two eyes.

The idea, that they were trying to make a human.

"Ridiculous." He said to himself, not even wanting to entertain such a preposterous idea for a moment. He clasped his hands together on his lap and stared blankly at the computer screen, eyes glazed over in thought. A human level robot was so far past what they could accomplish right now that it would be almost immediately obvious if they had that level of tech. Forget Cinder, forget Ozpin, hell, forget every single hunter or grimm in the world combined.

With a human level AI computer, Atlas would have dominated all of Remnant by now. It was something touched on in several old fiction books -all teaching about the dangers of evolving technology- the idea of a dangerous 'super computer' that could wipe out all living beings. Though the topic had never truly broached society as a whole, most people were a bit more worried about immediate threats, like having their bowels eviscerated by a roaming beowolf. But some scientists did discuss the idea of an advanced AI that could do the thinking and fighting for us –these ideas never really got any traction due to their nature of being what most considered pipe dreams.

The general message of these scientists though, was that any sufficiently intelligent AI would immediately improve at an exponential rate.

This concept, this notion, this idea was known among the science community as…

Singularity…So unless Atlas has achieved what's been considered the impossible for our entire existence…But Roman shook his head of this silly fiction. There had to be a more logical idea, something with a valid explanation that wasn't reaching or crazy. There had to be.

And as his computer dinged quietly, signaling that his virus had infiltrated the Paladin AI core successfully, Roman retrieved another cigar from inside his coat. Steady hand brought it up to his lips, which parted ever so slightly to envelop the tobacco stick, while another steady hand brought up a lighter to light it.

"Shit." He said lightly, when the lighter clattered to the floor, falling out of his shaking hand. He bent down, picked it back up with his dominant hand, and completed his action.

He tightly gripped his left hand with his right, stopping its shaking.

Shaking so violently.

"…" He blew out a large cloud of smoke, obscuring his vision. Sighing, he deposited the cigar into an ashtray next to him. He didn't really want to acknowledge it now though…

Even though it had finally formed so clearly at the forefront of his mind, he wanted to ignore it…

What those faunus were being used for.

*Scritch* *Scratch*

*Scritch* *Scratch*

Glynda sighed as she stared deep into the holographic projection presented before her, her hands folded tightly on her desk. She felt her eyes slipping closed, the sheer boredom of having to watch a teenage boy write notes taking its toll on her.

Jaune Arc was beginning to truly look like a victim of circumstance it seemed.

Slowly, her head began to droop ever so slightly over the lacquered table, a final show of defeat.

*Ring* *Ring* *Ring*

Her head whipped back up, eyes practically welded to the screen now as she watched Jaune pick up his scroll and answer it. She pressed a few buttons on a screen to her left and suddenly the system came to life with noise.

"-make sense. Pyrrha, this stuff is haaard!" Jaune whined into his scroll, prompting Glynda to hang her head once more and shut off the signal tapper –a system they used very sparingly when they felt students were up to less than scrupulous activities. Ever since he had come with his strange questions Glynda had been sure that this Jaune Arc boy was most definitely up to no good, but so far he had been proving her assumptions wrong at every turn –the boy was even studying in his off time for class. While Jaune was no prodigy student, it was becoming clearer and clearer with each passing day that he was simply thirsty for knowledge.

Truly infuriating then, that her instinct kept screaming at her that he was a danger to them.

She was getting tired of this though -watching a teenage boy all day was taking its toll on her. But if she stopped, she would have to admit to Ozpin that he was right and that Jaune was just a normal, if overly curious, student.

Which simply didn't sit well with her since every fiber of her being told her that he wasn't.

In fact, she was so tired that she didn't even hear the door open and close behind her.

"You're quite committed aren't you?" A calm voice sounded behind her.

She just sighed when the warm scent of coffee entered her nostrils. She turned around slowly and found herself face to face with her boss…

"Ozpin." She muttered quietly. "Something about him just isn't…" The words trailed off into the air, finding no purchase between the two –Glynda's mind stayed blank, waiting for Ozpin's obvious response.

"Perhaps he's just a student Glynda, it seems that Jaune is truly just trying to enjoy the remainder of his teen years." Ozpin said, taking short sips from his coffee as he spoke resolutely, though Glynda didn't seem convinced at all still. She could be like that though –she called it being cautious, he, paranoid.

"I'm telling you Ozpin, something about him just doesn't match up. He's hiding something."

He nodded at her words and took his place by her side, watching Jaune slam his head onto the table when he seemingly came across a concept too difficult for him.

It was amusing for him at least.

"We're all hiding something, aren't we Glynda?"

She scoffed at the answer. "Yes, but we have good reasons-"

"Well…let's suppose he does as well." He interrupted, one hand coming down and closing the projections, startling the strict professor only slightly. "You've watched him long enough for today Glynda, we've work to attend to. For now, just consider his questions a mere coincidence."

Glynda raised an eyebrow and cocked her head, surprised to hear the words leaving his mouth. Ozpin and work were never used in the same sentence unless the word 'never' was imposed in between the two.

As they got up and left the small security room, Glynda made one last response.

"I still remember," her strict voice echoed down the long hallway in front of them, "you told me once before Ozpin, coincidences don't happen in our line of work."

Ozpin ignored her.

"Statistics Helen! Statistics aren't racist!"

"You aren't pointing out statistics Dennis, you're just trying to promote your bigotry and racism!"

"The White Fang is a dangerous terrorist org-"

"They aren't the majority!"

"They're supported by the-"

"No, most faunus are peaceful an-"

*click*

The TV changed channels with a quick press of a button, eliciting a sigh from the rest of the bar patrons –many of whom were tired of having to hear the two politicians bicker for over an hour straight. Many continued on with their casual conversations, letting chatter build up once more, a steady pace filling the room.

Tucked into the corner, having his own conversation, hushed as it was, sat Tukson.

"It's fucking bullshit man!" One hissed out low, his ears flat against the top of his skull. "They still treat us like animals after all these years!"

His statement earned a quiet chorus of praise from the gathered faunus, though Tukson joined primarily out of necessity. This wasn't exactly his usual crowd of people.

"Can you believe that Dennis guy? He's running for council head and people are actually listening to him!" A young woman slammed her bottle of alcohol hard onto the table to accentuate her point. "If that doesn't tell you that people are still racist I don't know what will."

"Exactly, and they have the fucking audacity to say that the White Fang are just terrorists." A bull horned male muttered quietly, nodding to himself. "Like they have no reason for what they do."

Tukson decided to strike at that moment.

"It's ridiculous," he started, gathering a spatter of agreements, "and I hear the White Fang are actually here in town." He lowered his voice and bent lower to the table, his voice carrying over gently to the faunus sitting around him. Tukson dragged his eyes slowly over each one, gauging their reactions, looking for a sign of some sort that would tell him whether or not…

"…I…I hear they actually left already." A feline faunus timidly spoke. She bit her lip when all eyes turned towards her. "I-I mean I don't actually…" Her words trailed off but Tukson egged her on.

"They left…Do you know where?" He asked with faux excitement, his eyes wide and feigning innocent interest –they hid the turmoil and stirring thoughts of his mind.

Unfortunately, she just shook her head, crushing his hopes down into the dirt. It looked like this lead was going to end up nowhere as well it-

"I hear they went to mount Glenn." Another said as he absentmindedly scratch one of his horns.

Tukson felt his heart begin pumping in earnest and his pores popping to life as he finally got an answer of some sort. True or not, it was something to go off of.

"Mount Glenn? That place has been abandoned for a while now…" Tukson allowed his trailing voice to carry the implication, possibly for someone else to chime in and…

"For good reason too, place is overrun with grimm and just some nasty shit man."

"Look, I don't know if they're their but that's just what I heard!" He stated adamantly.

Tukson shook his head and shrugged at him, bringing on an air of dismissal as he took another sip of his beer -Journey Brand of course, he drank quality beer, not that Valley crap from Mistral he always heard about. "Who did you even hear that from? Sounds like a shitty rumor to me…"

That garnered an annoyed grunt and a solid table smack as the other faunus glared at him, his cheeks red from either rage or alcohol –probably both Tukson noted to himself.

"My brother works in the White Fang, he told me that's where they were headed man!"

"You brother works in the White Fang?" Several of the faunus mirrored the surprised remark. Sure, every faunus knew about White Fang but only a select few had actual contacts within the organization, getting into the organization wasn't as easy as some made it out to be.

So his exclamation garnered several stares, causing him to shrink in his seat a bit as he defended himself.

"He's just a low level grunt alright, he's not some kind of-"

"So they really are in Mount Glenn…" Tukson muttered quietly to himself, completely tuning out of the current conversation. It wasn't exactly a fool-proof lead but it was certainly better than literally anything else he had come across recently.

But why Mount Glenn? It wasn't exactly a hotspot for tourism, business, or politics since it was, you know, abandoned years ago after the accident. Hell, the tunnels connecting Mount Glenn to Vale had been closed off…

…

…

With metal doors that were probably battered with rust from years of neglect.

There was no way they would actually do something like that though…Opening the old tunnels and leading grimm into Vale just to prove some twisted point.

"Humans are naturally inferior Tukson, they just happen to be so numerous. But all of that can change with…effort." The White Fang commander said as he slid his knife slowly into the man's struggling throat, opening a slit for a flat trail of copper liquid to pour out of.

Tukson ran.

As his old memories came floating back and Tukson felt his lips draw into a thin line of displeasure.

"Hey Tuk, where you going man?" One called out to him as he abruptly stood up and gathered his belonging in earnest -he mumbled out a monotone apology as he walked out the doors.

Tukson made his way back to his bookstore –late as it was, he needed to make a call to Blake before he headed out to Glenn. Blake had seemed quite fidgety the last time he had seen her and he wanted to make sure she stayed put somewhere in the city while he went out to find the White Fang. If he disappeared without giving her some kind of excuse she would probably go into overdrive looking for the White Fang.

That would be unacceptable.

He soon found himself standing in front of his store, the lights off, blinds closed, and doors locked as they always had been. Tukson found himself pausing in front of his door –hand clutching the handle tightly.

Something feels off...He thought to himself as he twisted the handle easily and slowly pushed the door inwards. While he couldn't see anything in particular being out of place, he was certain that something was wrong. The door closed behind him and darkness filled the store once again.

Blackness spread to every corner and Tukson found himself standing on his welcome mat staring into the seeping void, the only noise being his breathing. He listened carefully as he carefully made his way around shelves.

"Hello."

He stopped dead in his tracks when a smooth voice crept out of the darkness behind him and crawled down his neck.

"Don't bother turning around, you'll be dead before you know it."

"I wasn't planning on it." He replied simply, his hands resting at his sides. Smoothly and silently, ivory claws extended from their confines out into the open air, Tukson tensed when he heard footsteps draw closer.

"Woah their kitty, no need to pull out the claws. I'm just here to talk." Tukson drew a deep breath when he heard that. On one hand, he could put the claws away and hope that he was telling the truth and wouldn't just kill him, on the other hand, his claws were quite literally his only line of defense. "Look buddy, I'm just here to talk a bit. Alright?" The lights turned on and Tukson suddenly found himself face to face with a boyish looking visage. He stumbled backwards at the sudden sight and found himself dropping into a chair placed behind him.

The figure stood silently in front of him now, condescending smirk planted firmly on his face.

"So, I see that you've been looking for the White Fang recently." He leaned in, eyes locked and unwavering. "Tukson, you're from Atlas right? I checked some records, saw that you used to be part of the White Fang up there."

Tukson clenched the edges of his chair, knuckles turning white with pressure. Checked the records? Was this guy also a part of the White Fang? It didn't seem likely since he didn't seem to be a faunus, but then again, with the recent alliance with Roman Torchwick, maybe human allies to the White Fang wasn't a complete impossibility. So he simply nodded in affirmation, hoping that this wouldn't turn violent.

"I've been watching you Tukson, just-" the young man stretched his legs slightly, tensing them, "-making sure that you were still loyal to the cause." He ran his fingers through his silver hair, watching for a reaction.

Tukson found himself at a loss for words –this man was no doubt a White Fang member, possibly even an enforcer. This was possibly the worst situation he could have found himself in; interrogated by someone who could probably slaughter him like a...well an animal he supposed.

"I've always been loyal." He stated bluntly, matching the gaze with his own. "I moved to Vale to help out the local faunus, but when I heard Adam had come to town…" Tukson shrugged and heavily sighed. "I wanted to get involved, went to one of the rallies, liked what I saw, but when I went to go ask what we were planning on doing," the fingers on his hands mimicked tiny explosions, "everyone was gone. No sign or trace. So I thought I'd just ask around you know, find out where everyone went."

"Uh huh, so who's this?" He flicked a small picture towards him.

Fuck… One day, when a new encyclopedia was written and it include common idioms, beside the entry for 'stuck between a rock and a hard place' it would show an image of him with his ass firmly planted in a chair talking to a guy who could probably tear his face off with his toes.

"She's a faunus, just wanted to know what she thought about the rally." The picture showed his conversation with Blake after the rally.

"You know who this girl is Tukson?" The youth meandered around him and planted his hand firmly on his shoulder, squeezing tightly. He leaned in when Tukson shook his head. "Her name is Blake Belladonna the great traitor, ring any bells yet?" Another shake of the head had him laughing. "Alright then, so you just met her the one time and that's about it right?"

How the hell was he supposed to answer this? He couldn't lie and say that he had no contact with her, he would be found out instantly, all this guy had to do was ask for his phone and it would be over. On the other hand though, the truth was just as incriminating –working with a known traitor to the White Fang was a death sentence. What the hell could he say…?

"I-I've talked to her a couple of times after. She comes to the bookstore! I didn't know she was a traitor!" Pleading never bought salvation, but it could buy time.

"Woah there man, calm down compadre." He squeezed tightly once more, silencing Tukson in an instant. "I'm not saying that you're a traitor too Tukson, far from it actually. I was thinking you could do something for us though. Since you seem to know her so well."

He swallowed and let his eyes slowly trail back towards his captor. "What do you need from me?"

"Well it's not really me who needs something Tuk, it's Adam."

What? Why would Adam want anything to do with a simple traitor… No… There's no fucking way… Back in the past a rumor was circulating in the White Fang about Adam having taken in an apprentice, a girl to be specific, one that he supposedly cherished far more than he should have. He heard about Adam's uncharacteristic indulgence for her attitude, letting her get away with far more than anyone else ever had.

Then one day, the rumors stopped.

No one spoke about it ever again –those who did never spoke again period from what he heard.

But Blake was only 17…She was a kid! Adam was practically a full grown man...It didn't make any sense…

"What does Adam want with her?" He didn't want the answer but he needed it. His knuckles turned ever whiter.

"Oh," He felt him lean in, fingers clutching his shoulders, nearly breaking flesh, "he wants a...hmmm…what's the word for it?" Silence filled the room for several seconds before a whisper filled his ear. "Oh yeah, reunion."

Blake, how the hell did you fuck up in life so badly?

A/N: So I have decided to take a short break from this story. I don't know how long it'll last, probably only two or three months at most and I'll probably spend those two months writing out the rest of the story and fleshing it out a bit better. I may update other stories if I have the ability to but I wouldn't bank on it.

Work has really taken its toll on me so I think I need to reevaluate how I do things.

Thanks so much for understanding, I really appreciate it!

:)