Sorry for the delay.

Winter Schnee exited the police station after speaking with the police chief of the town she was in, a small pocket of civilization called Black Stone. She had come here on orders from General Ironwood to apprehend a man who could aid Atlas a great amount. She had also learned a lot in the past few hours, as Ironwood had spoken to her about the message Ozpin had sent out after his death. She was amazed by the prospect of warriors that couldn't die and possessed powerful Semblances. He had originally only known about three Immortals, a beast of a man residing deep in the Atlesian forest by the name of Forn, a ghostly warrior living on the peek of the Mountain of Souls named Yato, and finally a kind-hearted priest living in the equally small town of Ashfeld named William Ignis.

But Ironwood had recently discovered that Ozpin had an archive filled with information on them. And it turns out that these three were known as Alpha Immortals. There were two final ones, Beta Immortals, who, while not being fully immortal like their brothers-in-arms, were in possession of far more powerful Semblances. The first was Leonidas, a strong soldier and commander living in Atlas with the ability to transform into a so-called "Dark Lord" and command legions of demons. He had gone rogue, however, so Winter was currently tracking the second one, Friour, so she could bring him to Ironwood for questioning and, hopefully, recruitment. What was strange was the lack of information on this man, at least when compared to the others. There was a name, face and location, but nothing on his Semblance or current situation.

She walked through streets with purpose, a squad of Knights behind her. The police chief had been reluctant to tell her anything about him, but eventually relented and told her that he recently started frequenting the local tavern, the Snake's Bite. He had also told her not to approach him, as he'd been going through some "rough times", though he wouldn't elaborate. It also seemed that everyone in the town knew about the Immortal, though the chief continually denied it until she presented him with evidence proving she already knew. And she approached the tavern, she was surprised to see people actively ignoring her, almost like they didn't want her there at all.

She ordered the droids to wait outside while she entered the bar, and she walked inside. The place was of medium size, and had many patrons, though was surprisingly quiet. The bar was at the back, with multiple tables strewn throughout the main floor. There were also multiple speakers set up along the walls, but each one had an "Out Of Order" sign on them. Just like the civilians outside, the patrons all ignored her. She scanned the bar and saw her target, a beefy man at the end by himself, holding a mug of beer. He had shaggy black hair and a short beard, and was dressed in a flannel shirt and sweatpants. He was slumped over his drink, staring into it with a sad expression. She strode up to him, making her presence known.

"Mr. Friour, I am Commander Schnee of the Atlas Forces, and I need you to come with me." She said with conviction. The bar went silent, and she could feel everyone's eyes on her. Friour simply sighed and shook his head slightly.

"Please, just leave me be." He said, his voice soaked with sadness. She ignored it and pushed forward, grabbing him by the forearm.

"I will not say it again, you are to come with me so I can bring you General Ironwood in the Capital." She said more aggressively.

He ignored her and took a swig from his mug. She was about to cuff him when someone knocked on the bar top, garnering her attention. The bar keeper, a snake Faunus if the eyes were anything to go by, surprisingly, was giving her a dirty look.

"You need to leave. Now." He said to her harshly.

"I am here on military business, and will not leave unless it's with Mr. Friour, one way or another." She retorted. All he did was scoff at her.

Before they could continue, Friour downed the rest of his drink in one go and slammed the mug into the bar, causing it to crack. He glared at her with anger in his eyes, and this was when she remembered this wasn't a typical thug she was dealing with.

"I know your kind, lass." He said. Now that his voice was clear, she could hear a thick accent.. "You strut and prance around like you own the place all because of your bloody title." He stood up, one hand on the counter, and she realized just how large he was. The file on him didn't have an exact height, but he had to be bigger than even General Ironwood. He stared at her with even more hate, but she refused to back down, placing her hand on her weapon.

"Do you know how long it's been since one of you pompous cunts has shown your pretty wee face around here?" She froze for a second, but Friour interrupted her before she could answer. "50! For 50 fucking years we've been scrapping by on our own, without so much as a letter from you bastards!" He got closer, and she found herself taking an involuntary step back. Electricity began to crackle from his hands, but he was stopped when one of the other patrons, another muscle man, placed his hand on his shoulder, garnering his attention.

"It's not worth it, don't let her get to you." He said, trying to be diplomatic. Friour tightened his fists for a moment before releasing them, stopping the flow of electricity.

"You're right. I'm sorry." He apologized, his anger once again being replaced by sadness. He walked out of the tavern, but when Winter tried to follow, the man stepped in her way.

"Unless you want to turn into a human lightning pole, I wouldn't push it with him. He's already lost his daughter, and he won't tolerate another round of bullshit from you." It took her three minutes to push past the crowd of angry people blocking her path, but when she'd finally gotten out, he was already gone. The huffed angrily before noticing her Knights were scattered along the snowy ground, all looking like they'd had their circuits fried.

Meanwhile, with a certain dark mistress

Salem was becoming stressed. Nearly all of the Immortals were becoming active in some way, and this worried her. Ignis had slain the former leader of the White Fang, along with everyone else in the building at the time, and she hasn't been able to figure out what caused this. They had come to an agreement that she would leave Ashfeld alone so long as he left her alone. Sure, he would occasionally decapitate any war mongers he came across, but that was just his nature. Sienna, on the other hand, hadn't become a real threat to him yet. No, there had to be another reason. Hell, even Forn and Yato had become active. Yato hadn't really done much thus far, but Forn was tearing apart White Fang bases left and right.

She had called her circle together and decided to inform them on who and what the Immortals were, barring a certain monster imprisoned by Ignis, and about the tense peace treaty they'd had, and the reactions were mixed. Hazel and Cinder understood the danger they posed and agreed to stay away from them, Arthur proposed they try to imprison them in some way, and Tyrian still thought he could kill them if he tried hard enough. All these conflicting opinions caused an argument to break out. She was about to get them to stop, but they stopped when the doors to the hall suddenly opened.

Two figures emerged from the other side, and no one had ever seen them before. One was a short woman who looked more like an assassin, and the other was a brute of a man in heavy iron armor. The pair stood side by side the door like royal guards, stock still. The circle stood there, surprised that these two people just seemingly appeared in their castle, but then they heard a third set of footsteps approaching. These were slow, heavy and methodical, like they had all the time in the world to do whatever they wanted. And then he rounded the corner, and Salem's blood went cold. There, in all his dark glory, was Mors, the Father of Darkness, but his sword and shield were noticeably absent.

"Hello again, my dear love." He greeted her in that chilling whisper as he continued forward. As soon as he spoke, Tyrian lept towards him, wrist blades extended, intending to kill the intruder. Little did he know, they were the intruders. The blades bounced off his hood, and during Tyrian's moment of shock, Mors summoned his sword and plunged the blade through the mad man's skull, killing him instantly. His free hand became wreathed in shadowy claws and he swiped at his neck, removing the head from the shoulders. He examined it for a moment before swinging his blade to the side, launching it into the wall. He banished the claws, but kept his blade.

"You did not tell me you were having guests." He stared at each of them, even his eyes hidden by unnatural shadows. They were all silent as their clear superior moved slowly across the hall, examining them all with an ancient eye. They each tried their best not to garner his attention, especially after he had so easily slain one of their own, but one of them failed to do so. He stopped right next to Cinder, staring into her eye with his dead black pits for a moment before continuing on. Salem was at a loss for words as her second husband approached her throne. She felt the urge to run, but knew it would be futile. He suddenly grabbed her by the throat and lifted her into the air, his cold hands digging into her flesh. She grabbed at his arm out of instinct, but he didn't even budge, even as the others stood up and drew their weapons.

"You left me there." You said to her, once again just loud enough that everyone could hear. "And you didn't even recognize your own children when they entered." He said, gesturing towards the two people that were now known as his children.

"Put her down." Hazel demanded. He responded by staring him dead in the eyes, and it was enough to get him to back down.

"This was never your home." He tightened his grip on her throat, causing her to look at him with panic in her eyes, only to find nothing in return. "You are merely a parasite." He threw her to the side, her body hitting the wall with a hard thump. He sat down at the seat and summoned his sword and shield before embedding them in the ground on either side of him. He sat in silence for a moment before speaking once again.

"Which of you are important enough not to kill?"

Sorry for the shorter chapter, I've just been distracted writing other stuff. My attention is very singular.

Paramus92: I'll try.

It doesn't seem like this story is getting much attention anymore, so I'm debating whether or not to continue with it. I guess the response this chapter receives will answer that question. Well, as always, I hope you lads enjoyed, stay safe, and have a good night.