Salem, leader of the conspiracy against Remnant, was not pleased. The immortal woman’s eyes—dark and glistening like slicks of oil—shimmered with anger, and she drummed her ashen fingertips on the table.

“Ozpin’s brats are thinning our numbers at an unacceptable rate,” she said, her voice flat and icy. “The Faunus of Menagerie have taken the fight as well, and the kingdoms are rallying. Huntsmen and Huntresses across the map are making a strike against our Grimm.” She slowly placed her palms down on the table, and a thin smile touched her lips. “Luckily for us, I have a plan—one that involves the three of you.”

Cinder Fall shifted her head to meet the eyes of the others that were in the room with her. Salem had forgone summoning her usual coterie of allies and stooges. Instead, there were only three who were meeting with her today: the silent assassin named Neopolitan, and Cinder’s own subordinate, Emerald Sustrai. Each of the other two women touched Cinder’s gaze, and unspoken dialogue passed between them in the way their eyes met, squinting in query and raising their eyebrows quizzically.

“Confused, are we?” Salem said, an amused note creeping into her voice. “Don’t be. Follow, and I will enlighten you.” She rose from the long table they were gathered at and glided out of the room. Each of the three women followed on her heels.

“Naturally, the Grimm numbers need replenishment,” Salem lectured as they walked. “The pools of darkness which spawn them help, of course, but I have long wondered if there might not be a more… naturalistic way of propagating them.”

Emerald fell in beside Cinder. “What does she mean?” she asked in a low voice.

“If you have a question, you should ask it directly, Ms. Sustrai,” Salem said, prompting a worried look to crawl onto Emerald’s face. “But perhaps I can illustrate to you what exactly it is that I ‘mean.’” By now they were at a high window overlooking fields where the Grimm prowled. Salem turned to face them, her back to the window, and the expanse stretched behind her. Even Cinder couldn’t help but feel awe at the imposition such a seemingly mundane sight lent Salem. She felt Neo and Emerald tense up near her; they were similarly affected.

The barest ghost of a smile touched the corners of Salem’s mouth as she took in their reaction. “Though born of the pools, the Grimm are animalistic,” she said, lacing her hands in front of her stomach, fingers interlocked. “They take familiar shapes—apes, wolves, bears, serpents, bees. Such creatures are not born of pools of darkness, but rather procreate the traditional way.” Salem laughed, the sound carrying immense weight despite its low volume. “I have long wondered—why should the Grimm be barred from the enjoyment their more feral cousins enjoy?”

Next to Cinder, Emerald’s voice hitched. “The three of us… no, you can’t be serious. You want us to breed Grimm? Personally?”

“Well,” Salem replied smoothly, “you three do have the necessary plumbing, as it were.”

The confirmation sent Cinder reeling. Her? Breed Grimm? Was she really being asked to give her body to these beasts—animalistic creatures of pure destruction? The thought disgusted her!

Or… it should have. Her recent trials against Team RWBY and their allies had left her beaten and humiliated. She still felt the ghosts of old pain, haunting her like mirages, from the scars that infernal brat Ruby Rose had left her.

She wanted to see them beaten. Pushed back. She wanted to see them suffer.

And even the mightiest Huntress would eventually fall before endless waves of Grimm.

Before she could even reflect on what she was doing, she stepped forward. “How productive are we expected to be?” she asked. “A human has one child every nine months. For us three to produce Grimm at that rate wouldn’t make a big difference.”

“A valid question,” Salem replied. “I have modified the Grimm to provide them with relevant equipment for the task. Part of my adjustments mean that any womb which accepts their seed will be transformed. You’ll find yourself with drastically increased fertility and an extremely short gestation time.” Her eyes glittered with promise. “Why… you may find yourself bearing hundreds of Grimm a year.”

Hundreds of Grimm…

Cinder pictured Ruby Rose and her devious little teammates swamped by Grimm; she envisioned the satisfaction it would bring knowing that the silver-eyed brat had fallen to one of Cinder’s own offspring.

That knowledge would be worth anything.

“I’ll do it,” she replied.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw both Neo and Emerald start in surprise—but after a half-minute’s pause, Emerald stepped up. The young woman’s voice was shaky but still resolute. “If—if Cinder is willing, then I am too. I’ll always be ready to follow her.” A split second later, Neo shrugged with a distinct why the hell not? gesture and fell in alongside them.

Salem smiled even wider than ever. “Excellent.”