Remnant's Calling

2x9: Answers

A weathered door sat in front of him mockingly in a sea of darkness swarming around him. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, and his breathing played as static underlining it. Moments passed until he hesitantly reached forward and pushed the door open. The loud hum of a silver light greeted him first, then Richard's smug yellow light and relaxed figure stared back at him. 

"Well, look who we have here," he greeted, a hidden smile hinted at by his tone. Fritz said nothing while he approached. "Come on, don't be like that. Didn't your parents teach you manners?" The pompous chuckle didn't seem to land as Fritz looked unfazed. 

"Why am I here?" Fritz said finally, sounding dead and tired. "What do you want from me?" 

Richard leaned back and let his hands rest on his lap. "You're missing the point," he answered pointedly. His egotistical tone turned into a much more serious one. "I didn't bring you here so you can do it all over again." The soft yellow light gradually shifted to a radiant orange. "I hoped you'd figure it out, but you still can't see the bigger picture." 

"Then tell me what I'm supposed to do," Fritz replied after a moment's reflection. "Instead of being cryptic and smug."

Richard laughed and sat up and leaned forward. "If I gave you all the answers at your every beckon and call, you'd grow dependent. We both know that."

Fritz scoffed at his reason. "Right, then, how about you point me in the right direction? Please give me a hint or something, at least."

"I'm not your fuckin' babysitter," Richard shot back caustically, jabbing his pointer finger at him. "Besides, you've already fucked it up. It's all set in stone. Nothing I tell you will change that." Fritz went to argue, but Richard stopped him. "And before you say it, I didn't think I needed to hold your fuckin' hand everywhere."

"Then what did you hope I'd do?" 

"You were a soldier; finding where to gain information should come as second nature to you," Richard snapped, slumping back in his chair. "But it doesn't matter. You always have next time. So get out; you're getting blood all over my floor." 

"What?" Fritz looked down. Blood ran down his torso, staining his shirt and pants. He stumbled backward as nausea kicked in, eventually making him lose his balance. 

Hitting the ground, he jolted awake, the steady beats of a heart rate monitor greeting him. 

"Ah, you're awake," chimed the familiar voice of Ozpin. 

Fritz tried to sit up, only for the pain to shoot up his back. "Wha... what happened?" He questioned, lying back. 

"You were shot three times in the back, as I'm sure you now know." He gestured to him as he spoke. "Our infirmary staff was able to patch you up, but you will have to take it easy for a few weeks." 

Fritz sighed and wiped the exhaustion out of his eyes. "Right," he mumbled, "but that isn't all you want to say, is it?" 

Ozpin chucked in reply. "Quite perceptive."

"Apparently not," he murmured. "What is it?" 

"Your pertinent ability to bypass the aura of your opponents. You've demonstrated this feat many times, and I'm interested in how you manage it," Ozpin told him. 

"I... don't know. It just happens. Like it's a reflex I've always had."

Ozpin paused to reflect. "Well, I suppose it has to correlate with your previous line of work. But, unfortunately, seeing as it appears only to activate when you're in this flight or fight mode, it'll be difficult to experiment with."