[B]Gratia Mindaro - Your circuit's dead, there's something wrong[/b]

What was wrong? What was [i]wrong[/i]?

The air was heavy and thick, a burden upon the very souls of all who resided in the dormitory. A tulip sitting in a nearby vase wilted, its petals flaking away into dust under the intensifying pressure of [i]Bibere Vinum[/i]. And in the middle of the tempest, Gratia Mindaro's face was contorted into an expression of sheer rage and anger, of a fury that was rarely even seen upon the fields of battle. The letter, once crisp, was scrunched within her fist. Her cold, onyx eyes were sharp, focused ... murderous.

Somebody had kidnapped Bianca Nuit.

The aristocratic Faunus would never have made such a stupid mistake without trying to correct it. She was in trouble. She had gone to the effort of implementing an utterly ridiculous code for them to decipher. Or it could have been a trap, with Nuit as the fucking bait who had been forced to write under gunpoint. But regardless of the situation, Bianca Nuit had been kidnapped.

That was fucking unacceptable.

In an instant, Gratia Mindaro's monstrous expression schooled itself into the cold, steel solemnity. Yet she was still draining, her semblance passively feeding off the souls of all others in the room at an astonishing rate. She was angry. Truly angry.

Her teammate had been kidnapped.

She would [i]bReAK thEM aLl ApART[/i].

"[color=66cd00]Bianca Nuit is currently in the custody of an unknown set of hostiles,[/color]" she said, voice tightly controlled, colder than the Antarctic ice. "[color=66cd00]We will be pursuing them.[/color]"

Her tone brokered no arguments.

Her killer's eyes refused to tolerate any other suggestion.

Whatever mission could have been assigned to them ... that did not matter.

They had somebody to punish.