Chương 58: Chapter 55: The Colors of Betrayal

The night air of Kuo Kuana was thick with the scent of sea salt and blooming tropical jasmine. A warm, gentle breeze rustled through the massive palm leaves surrounding the Belladonna estate, offering a peaceful ambiance that directly contrasted the turbulent storm raging inside Blake's chest. Blake stood alone on the expansive wooden balcony just outside her father's office. She gripped the polished mahogany railing, her knuckles turning pale as she stared out at the glittering, lantern-lit expanse of Menagerie.

Without her black ribbon, her feline ears twitched erratically, picking up the distant sounds of the city, but her mind was entirely consumed by the heavy, suffocating weight of the conversation she was avoiding.

"You're pacing, sweetheart." Blake flinched, turning around. Kali Belladonna stepped softly onto the balcony, carrying a beautifully painted ceramic tray with a steaming teapot and two small porcelain cups.

"I'm not pacing," Blake murmured defensively, though her eyes immediately dropped to the floorboards.

"Just... getting some air." Kali offered a warm, incredibly knowing smile. She walked over, gently pressing the tray into Blake's trembling hands.

"Your father is just inside, Blake. He's been staring at the same piece of paperwork for twenty minutes, waiting for you to come in. He's just as nervous as you are." Blake looked down at the steaming tea, a heavy sigh escaping her lips.

"Is it that obvious?"

"To a mother? Always," Kali chuckled softly, reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of black hair behind Blake's newly exposed ear. She then took a step back, her amber eyes sparkling with a sudden, mischievous curiosity.

"Besides, I think I will leave the two of you to talk. I need to go find Sun. He mentioned earlier that this new security consultant at Beacon... Saitama, was it? He told me the man wears a bright yellow spandex suit, buys discounted cabbages, and can apparently punch holes in the sky. I simply must hear more about this 'Hero of Vale.' It sounds completely absurd!" A faint, genuine smile broke through Blake's anxiety.

"It is absurd, Mom. Completely. But... he's real. And he kept us safe."

"Then I owe him my gratitude, even if his fashion sense sounds dreadful," Kali winked, turning gracefully toward the sliding doors leading back to the main house.

"Go on, Blake. Talk to him." With a final, fortifying breath, Blake turned around. She balanced the tray in her hands and slowly slid the heavy wooden door to the office open. The room was bathed in the warm, flickering glow of an oil lamp. Ghira Belladonna sat behind his massive desk, his broad shoulders slumped slightly as he stared at a stack of bureaucratic ledgers. At the sound of the door, his golden eyes snapped up, and he immediately sat up straighter, clearing his throat.

"Blake," Ghira said, his deep voice carrying a gentle, tentative warmth.

"I... I brought tea," Blake said softly, walking over and carefully setting the tray down on the edge of his desk.

"Thank you," Ghira murmured. He reached for a cup, the delicate porcelain looking incredibly fragile in his massive, calloused hands. He took a slow sip, his eyes searching the room for a topic.

"It is a... very quiet night. The sea is calm."

"Yes. It is," Blake replied, wrapping her hands around her own cup, staring at the swirling green liquid. An agonizing, suffocating silence settled over the office. The small talk felt hollow, a fragile bridge over a massive, yawning chasm of years of estrangement. Blake's hands began to shake. The tea rippled. The memories of her departure, the shouting, the furious, self-righteous anger of a teenager blinded by a radical cause, flooded her mind.

"Dad, I..." Blake's voice cracked, a sudden, hot tear spilling over her eyelashes and splashing into the tea. She slammed the cup down onto the tray, the porcelain clattering loudly. She looked up, her amber eyes swimming with absolute, profound guilt.

"I called you cowards." Ghira froze, his cup pausing halfway to his mouth.

"When you and Mom decided to step down... when you wanted to leave the White Fang because of the violence... I yelled at you," Blake choked out, her voice trembling violently as the dam finally broke.

"I told you that you were giving up. I stayed with Adam because I thought he was strong, and I thought you were weak. I said such horrible, unforgivable things to you..." Ghira carefully set his tea down. He stood up, his massive frame moving around the desk with surprising gentleness. He closed the distance between them, wrapping his huge arms around his daughter and pulling her into a fierce, protective embrace.

Blake buried her face into his chest, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed, releasing years of accumulated shame.

"Oh, Blake," Ghira whispered, resting his chin on the top of her head, his own voice thick with emotion.

"You were a child. A child swept up in a tide of anger that wasn't your own. We never held those words against you. Not for a single day." He pulled back just enough to look her directly in the eyes, his hands resting firmly on her shoulders.

"Your mother and I... we are so incredibly proud of you. Do you hear me? We are proud. When you saw what the White Fang had truly become, when you saw the darkness Adam was leading them into... you had the strength to walk away. You found your own path. That takes more courage than most men ever possess in a lifetime." Blake sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve, a profound, healing warmth flooding her chest.

"Dad... thank you. I just wanted to--" BANG! BANG! BANG! The tender, emotional atmosphere of the office was violently, aggressively shattered. Blake spun around. Plastered against the glass of the balcony door, his face squished comically against the pane, was Sun Wukong. He was knocking frantically, his golden tail whipping wildly in the night air. The beautiful, healing moment evaporated instantly, replaced by a surge of pure, unadulterated Huntsman irritation.

Blake's feline ears pinned flat against her skull, her aura flaring with annoyance as she marched over to the door and threw it open.

"Sun!" Blake hissed, her face flushed with anger.

"Do you have any concept of privacy?! What are you doing out here?!"

"Blake, listen to me, this is an emergency!" Sun yelled, completely ignoring her anger as he stepped into the office, his chest heaving.

"I was just talking to your mom in the hallway, right? And she told me that the White Fang branch here in Menagerie doesn't wear those creepy Grimm masks!" Blake frowned, her irritation stuttering.

"No, they don't. Only the active, extremist cells on the continents wear them. Why?"

"Because I just saw one!" Sun shouted, frantically digging into his pocket and pulling out his Scroll. He shoved the glowing screen toward her face.

"Look! I was out by the perimeter wall, and I saw somebody creeping through the trees! I snapped a picture right before--""Sun, enough!" Blake snapped, her patience entirely spent. Assuming this was just another one of his hyperactive overreactions ruining a deeply personal moment, she swatted his hand away.

"Stop being ridiculous!" In her annoyance, she hit his wrist far harder than she intended. The Scroll flew out of Sun's grip, sailing in a high, glowing arc over the balcony railing and plummeting into the dark canopy of the trees below.

"Hey! My Scroll!" Sun whined, leaning over the railing. THWACK.

"Gah!" A sharp, distinct cry of pain echoed from the darkness of the foliage. Blake froze. Her blood ran cold. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it A figure clad in an all-black stealth suit dropped clumsily from the dense palm leaves, landing heavily on top of the perimeter wall. For a split second, the moonlight caught the stark, bone-white surface of a Grimm mask covering the intruder's face.

The spy rubbed their head where the Scroll had hit them, then instantly bolted, leaping off the wall and disappearing into the labyrinth of Kuo Kuana's rooftops. Blake's amber eyes widened in absolute outrage.

"Someone was spying on us!" Without a second of hesitation, Blake vaulted entirely over the balcony railing, her black coat snapping in the wind as she plummeted toward the courtyard, drawing Gambol Shroud in mid-air.

"Hey! Wait for me!" Sun yelled. Just as he threw his leg over the rail, Kali burst into the office, looking alarmed by the shouting.

"What is going on?!"

"Masked ninja! Chasing her! Be right back, Mrs. Belladonna!" Sun shouted in a frantic, single breath, before launching himself over the edge, diving into the night after Blake. The chase through the dense, vertical architecture of Kuo Kuana was a blur of motion. Blake moved with lethal, feline precision, her boots silently gripping the clay tiles as she bounded from rooftop to rooftop.

Ahead of her, the masked spy moved with incredible, fluid agility, treating the perilous gaps between the buildings like a playground. Sun bounded up the side of a water tower, his staff already in hand. He spotted the spy leaping toward a lower, flat roof, and saw his opportunity.

"Surprise!" Sun bellowed, completely ruining the element of stealth as he dropped from the sky, bringing his staff down in a heavy overhead smash. The spy easily sidestepped the noisy, telegraphed attack. Sun's staff crashed harmlessly into the rooftop, cracking the clay tiles. The spy skidded to a halt near the edge of the roof, turning to hold her ground. As she turned, a mesmerizing, rippling effect washed over her skin.

The dark black pigment faded instantly, shifting into a tan hue covered in noticeable, distinct camouflage spots. She raised a rigid, metallic baton in her hand. Blake landed gracefully on the roof just a few yards away, her eyes narrowing. She let out a low, warning grunt. With a sharp flick of her wrist, the spy activated her weapon. The stiff metallic baton instantly uncoiled, undulating into a long, jagged, whip-like blade that crackled with latent energy.

In a single, fluid motion, the spy lashed the whip outward, slicing cleanly through a pressurized ventilation pipe running along the roof's edge. A massive, blinding cloud of thick white steam erupted from the severed pipe, entirely obscuring the battlefield. Blake didn't flinch. She dove straight into the billowing vapor, her feline senses piercing the fog. She landed in the center of the smoke, Gambol Shroud leveled defensively.

"Why are you spying on my family?!" Blake demanded, her voice cutting through the hiss of the steam. The spy stood just a few feet away. Beneath the bone-white Grimm mask, a slow, confident smile was visible. Instead of attacking, she lowered her whip, the jagged edge resting against the tiles. Sun landed heavily on the roof directly behind Blake, spinning his staff.

"Yeah! What she said!" The spy didn't answer. With blinding speed, she lashed the whip backward, the jagged edge slicing through the vapor straight at Sun's head. Sun yelped, dropping into a frantic backward roll just in time to dodge the strike. Seizing the opening, Blake rushed forward. She executed a flawless, sweeping low kick, striking the spy's hand and knocking a familiar, silver rectangular object right out of her grip. It wasn't a weapon. It was a Scroll.

The spy gasped in surprise as the device clattered across the roof. She instantly dropped low, dodging Blake's follow-up roundhouse kick, and threw a vicious, sweeping kick of her own, forcing Blake to jump back. The spy scrambled on all fours, diving desperately toward the sliding Scroll. She never reached it. Sun tackled her from the side, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and pinning her to the tiles.

"Blake! Get the Scroll!" Sun yelled, struggling to hold the thrashing combatant. The spy snarled. She reared her head back and slammed her skull viciously backward, delivering a brutal headbutt directly into the center of Sun's face. Crunch.

"Gah! My nose!" Sun groaned, his grip failing as he rolled away, clutching his bleeding face. The spy scrambled to her feet, racing Blake toward the dropped device. She was inches away, her fingers outstretched to grab it. Via Sun! Sun thrust his hands forward, his Semblance flaring brightly. Four luminous, golden light-clones erupted from his body. They launched themselves across the roof, tackling the spy in a coordinated dog-pile, completely burying her beneath their glowing forms.

Blake grabbed the Scroll from the tiles, pausing as she looked back at Sun.

"Keep going! Don't worry about me!" Sun urged, his teeth gritted in intense concentration. But his Aura flickered dangerously. The sheer physical toll of the chase, combined with the injury to his face, caused his control to slip. The golden clones shattered into a shower of sparkling dust. Sun gasped, his knees buckling as he dropped heavily to the roof, entirely drained. The moment the clones vanished, the spy scrambled up. She leveled her crackling whip directly at Blake's unprotected back.

"Blake! Look out!" Sun screamed. Blake spun around on her heel, bringing Gambol Shroud up to parry. But as the spy turned to strike, the damage from the tackle took its toll. A massive fissure ran down the center of the bone-white Grimm mask. With a soft click, the mask shattered, the two halves crumbling away and falling to the rooftop. Blake's eyes widened in absolute, paralyzing shock. Her weapon dropped an inch. The face staring back at her was intimately familiar.

The freckles, the intense eyes, the familiar jawline.

"Ilia...?" Blake breathed, the name carrying a profound, heartbreaking weight. Sun blinked, wiping the blood from his nose as he stared at the two girls.

"Wait... you guys know each other?" Ilia Amitola's face twisted into an expression of profound, bitter annoyance. Her Semblance reacted violently to her raging emotions. The tan, spotted skin shifted rapidly, burning into a fierce, aggressive red, covered in vivid yellow blotches that perfectly matched the sudden, fiery change in her hair and eyes.

"You shouldn't have brought him into this," Ilia hissed. She whipped her arm forward, the Lightning Lash crackling with a terrifying, lethal voltage, aiming a devastating strike directly at the exhausted Sun.

"Sun!" Blake threw herself forward. She slammed her shoulder into Sun's chest, shoving him violently out of the direct trajectory of the strike. But she wasn't fast enough to completely clear the arc. The jagged, electrified edge of Ilia's whip tore a brutal, sizzling gash across Sun's left shoulder.

"Agh!" Sun cried out, collapsing onto his back as blood instantly stained his white shirt.

"Sun!" Blake screamed, her voice cracking with terror as she dropped to her knees beside him. Ilia stood above them, the crackling whip pointed directly at Blake's chest. Her red eyes burned with a cold, unrelenting fanaticism.

"Hand over the Scroll, Blake," Ilia demanded, her voice trembling slightly, betraying the conflict beneath her radicalized exterior. Blake glared up at her former friend. Her hands tightened around the silver device, her amber eyes filled with a defiant, unyielding fire.

"No." Ilia's posture faltered. The aggressive red and yellow hues of her skin and hair rapidly melted away, replaced by a sorrowful, icy palette of deep greens and blues. Her eyes reflected a profound, tragic regret.

"You shouldn't have come back," Ilia whispered, her voice hollow. She took two steps backward. With a violent, sweeping downward arc of her whip, she struck the fragile clay tiles of the roof. The impact shattered the masonry, kicking up a massive, blinding cloud of dust and debris that completely swallowed the area. By the time the wind cleared the smoke, Ilia Amitola was gone. Blake didn't chase her.

She immediately pressed her hands tightly over the bleeding wound on Sun's shoulder, her hands shaking as warm blood seeped through her fingers.

"Sun... Sun, hold on. We'll get you back to the house," Blake panicked, her eyes wide with fear. Sun winced, his face pale, but he forced his signature, goofy smirk onto his lips.

"Hey... relax. Just a flesh wound... barely even felt it."

The atmosphere inside the Belladonna household was a stark contrast to the peaceful tea setting from an hour prior. The sitting room had been transformed into a makeshift triage center. Sun sat shirtless on a low stool, wincing through gritted teeth as Kali expertly, tightly wrapped a thick layer of pristine white bandages around his wounded shoulder. Blake paced frantically back and forth across the woven mats, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her mind racing a million miles an hour.

At the head of the wooden table, Ghira Belladonna sat in terrifying silence. The recovered silver Scroll was plugged directly into his heavy, encrypted desktop terminal. The glow of the monitor cast sharp shadows across the Chieftain's deeply furrowed brow as his golden eyes scanned the decrypted files.

"Dad," Blake stopped pacing, looking at him with desperate urgency.

"What is on that Scroll? Why was Ilia spying on us?" Ghira's face paled. His massive hands trembled as he slowly turned the monitor around so Blake could see the screen.

"Blake... this is worse than we could have ever imagined," Ghira rumbled, his voice thick with horror.

"This Scroll contains direct, encrypted correspondences from Adam Taurus himself. It details the timeline of the coup." Blake stepped closer, her eyes scanning the brutal, clinical text of the White Fang logs. Her blood ran cold.

"He... he did murder her," Blake whispered, her hand flying to her mouth.

"Adam truly assassinated Sienna Khan."

"He killed her in the throne room, and blamed it on a human Huntsman to radicalize the remaining moderates," Ghira confirmed, his voice laced with a heavy, sickening grief.

"Ilia was there. She witnessed the assassination. Adam sent her here to Menagerie to monitor our movements, and to ensure our silence when his operatives finally move to execute us." Kali paused her bandaging, looking at her husband in sheer disbelief.

"Sienna is dead? The White Fang... it completely belongs to him now." Ghira pointed a thick finger at a secondary file blinking on the monitor.

"But it doesn't stop there. Adam isn't just securing his power here. He is mobilizing the splinter cells for a massive, coordinated strike on the continent of Anima. His next target isn't just a political statement." Ghira looked up, his golden eyes locking onto Blake's.

"He's planning to bomb Haven Academy." The words struck Blake like a physical blow. The air rushed out of her lungs, a deafening ringing filling her ears. Mistral. Haven Academy. Her amber eyes widened in absolute, paralyzing horror as the realization crashed over her with the force of a tidal wave. The quiet, melancholic farewell at the Beacon docks flashed vividly in her mind. Ruby's smile. Weiss's proud nod. Yang's warm embrace. Jaune's newfound confidence.

They had flown directly into the epicenter of the storm.

"My friends," Blake whispered, her voice trembling violently as pure terror gripped her heart.

"Ruby, Weiss, Yang... Jaune, Pyrrha, Nora, Ren. Headmistress Goodwitch deployed them to Mistral." Blake backed away from the table, her hands clutching her head.

"They're at Haven Academy right now. They're walking straight into a trap."