As the smoke cleared and the last echoes of gunfire faded, Anthony's squad took a moment to regroup, catching their breath and checking their gear. The Marines and Japanese soldiers, still tense from the skirmish, quickly began assessing their ammunition supplies. Anthony did a quick inventory of his own, grimacing as he realized they were running low. The relentless assault of the Grimm had taken its toll, and while the armor-piercing rounds had been effective, they'd burned through magazines faster than expected.

"We're not exactly stocked for another round," Fernandes muttered, checking his vest and counting his remaining magazines. "Three mags left. I don't think that's gonna cut it if we get hit like that again."

Captain Tanaka's squad members murmured similar reports. Despite their careful fire, their supplies were stretched thin. They'd been deployed with enough for reconnaissance, not prolonged combat. Anthony grimly acknowledged they were in dangerous territory. And with no map of this land, no connection to any satellite or UAV, they were effectively lost in a hostile jungle.

"Alright," Anthony said, keeping his voice steady. "We'll have to make every shot count from here on out. Stay tight, stay alert."

As they regrouped, something odd caught their attention. A distant rumble echoed through the jungle, accompanied by the guttural snarls and howls of more Grimm—but this time, they weren't heading toward the Marines and Japanese forces. Instead, the Grimm were charging in a different direction, crashing through the jungle with single-minded determination. Their red eyes glowed with unmistakable fury, but their focus was fixed elsewhere.

"Where are they going?" Corporal Jensen asked, voicing the question that had sprung to all their minds. "I thought these things only came after us."

Anthony's brow furrowed. The Grimm were drawn to negative emotions—that much had been clear since their first encounter. If they were swarming in another direction, something or someone had to be the source.

"Could be more of our forces out there," Anthony speculated. "If the Grim are attracted to negative emotions, they're sensing something big. Whatever it is, it's not far."

Just then, a new sound reached their ears—a steady, powerful rumble, unlike anything they'd heard so far. They turned, and through the trees, they caught sight of a pair of M1A5 Abrams tanks rolling slowly through the dense underbrush, their massive barrels aimed forward.

The Abrams moved like steel titans, their treads crushing everything in their path, while the gunners atop the turrets scanned the surroundings with sharp eyes.

"Now that's a sight for sore eyes," Fernandes muttered, a grin breaking through his exhaustion. "Looks like we're not the only ones down here."

Anthony waved, signaling the tanks, and one of the gunners spotted them, giving a thumbs-up in recognition. The tanks continued on their course, maintaining a respectful distance from the Grimm but clearly following them.

Captain Tanaka stepped up beside Anthony, a look of intense curiosity on his face. "The tanks... they're following the Grim as if they're tracking something. We should follow them, too. They may lead us to whatever is drawing these creatures in such numbers."

Anthony nodded in agreement. "You're right. If they've got a target in mind, we'll see it soon enough."

With that, he signaled his squad to move out, and they fell into formation alongside the Japanese. They trailed the tanks at a safe distance, careful to keep their movement quiet and their weapons ready. The jungle around them was thick, the underbrush dense and tangled, but the tanks carved a rough path, crushing obstacles and making their advance slightly easier.

The deeper they moved into the jungle, the stranger the atmosphere became. The sounds of the Grimm grew louder, a cacophony of snarls and howls that reverberated through the trees. The tanks continued forward, undeterred, their turrets swiveling as if they, too, were anticipating an imminent encounter.

Anthony glanced at Fernandes, who wore an expression that mirrored his own—unease tempered by curiosity. Whatever lay ahead, it was something big. They moved cautiously, every nerve on edge, until they finally broke through the last line of trees and emerged into a vast open clearing.

The scene before them was like something out of a nightmare.

At the far end of the clearing, a large group of Grimm was gathered, their red eyes gleaming in the dim light. Beowolves, Ursai, Beringels, and even a hulking, armored Nevermore loomed above them, its massive wings folded as it stalked forward, every bit a creature of darkness and rage. They were advancing on something—a cluster of figures standing in the center of the clearing, surrounded by the Grimm on all sides.

Anthony squinted, trying to make out details. The figures were humanoid, but they were different—some had animalistic features, like ears or tails, and they held weapons unlike anything he'd ever seen, gleaming with a faint, otherworldly glow. They looked like fighters, each one poised with a confidence that belied the danger surrounding them.

One of the figures, a tall man with feline-like fur and a claws in each hand, roared defiantly at the Grimm, charging forward with an agility that Anthony would have thought impossible. He moved like a whirlwind, cutting through the creatures with deadly efficiency, his movements a blur of steel and fury. Beside him, a woman with dark skin, canine-like ears, and a staff spun gracefully, her strikes precise and devastating, sending Grimm flying back with every blow.

"Are they... fighting the Grim?" Fernandes whispered, awestruck.

Anthony nodded, barely able to believe his eyes. Whoever these people were, they were holding their own against an overwhelming force, cutting through the Grimm with a skill that rivaled anything he'd seen in combat. And though they were clearly outnumbered, they fought with an unyielding resolve, as if they'd faced such horrors many times before.

The lead tank radioed Anthony's headset, crackling to life. "Sergeant Grant, this is Alpha-One. We've got eyes on what looks like... indigenous forces engaging the Grim. Orders?"

Anthony hesitated, watching as the group fought valiantly against the swarm. He could see the strain in their movements, the fatigue setting in as they were slowly pushed back by the relentless wave of Grimm. They wouldn't last much longer on their own.

"We're going in to assist," he replied. "Fire on the Grim. Avoid those... people, or whatever they are."

The tank commander didn't miss a beat. "Roger that, Sergeant. Engaging hostile targets."

With a deafening roar, the Abrams' main cannons fired, sending HE shells hurtling into the ranks of the Grimm. Explosions tore through the creatures, scattering them in a blast of force and fire. The Marines and Japanese soldiers joined in, rifles barking as they opened fire on the Grimm from a safe distance, carefully avoiding the group of warriors in the center.

The unexpected support threw the Grimm into disarray. The monstrous creatures hesitated, their instinctive aggression faltering in the face of the combined assault. Shells from the tanks ripped through their ranks, while armor-piercing rounds from the Marines and Japanese forces dropped the smaller Grimm with ease.

In the center of the chaos, the strange fighters looked around, surprise and relief flashing across their faces as they realized they had allies. The feline-fur man nodded to his comrades, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he renewed his assault with a fierce determination.

With the combined firepower of the tanks and infantry, the tide of battle shifted. One by one, the Grimm began to fall, their numbers dwindling until the last of them collapsed to the ground, its red eyes fading to darkness. Silence fell over the clearing, broken only by the faint crackling of the smoldering ground where explosions had torn through.

Anthony lowered his rifle, exchanging glances with his squad. They'd done it.

The strange group in the center of the clearing approached cautiously, their weapons still drawn but lowered. The feline-fur man stepped forward, eyeing Anthony and his team with a mix of wariness and curiosity.

Anthony took a deep breath, steadying himself as he moved forward to meet them. "I'm Sergeant Grant, United States Marine Corps. We're here on a... reconnaissance mission."

The man nodded slowly, studying Anthony with sharp, golden eyes. "Ghira Belladonna," he replied, his voice calm but edged with authority. "You're... not from Menagerie, are you?"

Anthony shook his head. "No, we're not. And... I have a feeling we have a lot to talk about."

Ghira nodded, a slight smile breaking through his otherwise serious expression. "It seems so. But first, thank you—for helping us fight the Grimm."

With the threat momentarily passed and introductions made, Anthony knew this was just the beginning of a new and uncertain alliance. They'd come seeking answers, and now, they were face to face with people from an entirely new world.

Ghira led the group of strange new arrivals through the jungle path toward Kuo Kuana, his mind racing with questions he dared not voice just yet. The armored figures following him—who called themselves "Marines" and "Japanese Special Forces"—were unlike any Huntsmen he'd encountered. Their strange weapons, which seemed to spit fire and thunder with every pull of the trigger, had decimated the Grimm far more efficiently than even the most skilled Huntsman's blade or firearm. And the massive, rumbling machines that trailed behind them, with their thick metal plating and enormous rotating turrets, were like something out of an Atlas military fantasy. He found himself glancing at them more than once, a mix of wariness and admiration in his gaze.

The jungle was alive with its usual sounds, but there was a certain quietness to the troops who followed, and their discipline impressed Ghira. They moved with a focus and cohesion that reminded him of Atlas soldiers, but something about them felt different. He couldn't pinpoint it, but the way they communicated in clipped, efficient phrases and the way they checked their surroundings—remaining cautious but calm—gave off a different energy.

These "Marines," along with the smaller unit of "Japanese" soldiers who accompanied them, blended into the jungle surprisingly well. Their clothing bore intricate patterns, a mixture of greens, browns, and blacks, that broke up their silhouettes against the lush background. Ghira's fellow Menagerie guards exchanged curious glances as they noted the effectiveness of the camouflage patterns. It was clear these soldiers came prepared for the jungle environment, as if they had long experience with hostile terrain.

Ghira's gaze shifted to Sergeant Grant, who walked near the front, his eyes constantly scanning for any potential threat, rifle held in a way that suggested readiness without outright aggression. Ghira was curious about this man—calm, controlled, yet clearly someone with the heart of a warrior. The title he'd introduced himself with, "Sergeant," was familiar, but the name of the organization he represented: the United States Marine Corps. Ghira mentally filed it away as something to ask about later, assuming it was some obscure order of Huntsmen or a mercenary group from across the seas.

The tanks—monstrous, metallic beasts of war, seemingly designed to crush and tear through anything in their path—continued to roll behind the group with an intimidating rumble. Ghira caught himself stealing glances at them, marveling at their sheer size and structure. They were unlike any vehicle he'd ever seen in Atlas, which had sophisticated weaponry but nothing quite like this. The Menagerie guards walked alongside the tanks with hesitant respect, their gazes frequently flickering between the massive machines and the soldiers who seemed to command them with ease. Ghira couldn't help but wonder if these were modified Atlas creations—some new project Ironwood had hidden away, perhaps. The prospect made him uneasy.

As they neared the outskirts of Kuo Kuana, the dense jungle began to give way to worn paths and familiar territory. Ghira glanced over his shoulder, studying the soldiers' reactions. They looked around with quiet curiosity, their faces unreadable behind their discipline. He noted the slight shift in their body language as the signs of a settlement became visible, the tension easing just a little.

Anthony and the other Marines didn't appear fazed by the small groups of Faunus villagers they passed—an assortment of people with animal traits ranging from ears to tails. Ghira observed them closely, curious if they might react with the disdain he'd seen in some humans. But the Marines gave no indication of such sentiments. Instead, they kept their focus forward, acknowledging the Faunus only with respectful nods.

The people of Kuo Kuana, however, weren't as restrained. As the soldiers marched through the village, Faunus villagers paused in their tasks, staring at the procession with wide eyes. Some murmured in awe, while others whispered nervously at the sight of the towering tanks and the soldiers in strange armor. Children peeked out from behind their parents, captivated by the sight of the Marines and Japanese soldiers, who seemed almost ghost-like in their camouflage, blending with the environment even in a populated area.

Ghira's wife, Kali, approached from the direction of the town square, her eyes bright with curiosity. She smiled at her husband, but her gaze quickly shifted to the strange new soldiers. "Quite the entourage you've brought home, Ghira," she teased, her tone light but her expression serious.

Ghira allowed a small smile to escape, though his voice was serious. "These... people appeared in the jungle, Kali. They fought with us against the Grimm. Their weapons and tactics... I've never seen anything like them."

Kali raised an eyebrow as she took in the soldiers' strange uniforms and powerful presence. "They must be some new kind of Huntsmen, then?" she asked, looking to Anthony, who was speaking quietly with a few of his men, reviewing their equipment and exchanging glances with the Japanese soldiers.

"I thought so, too," Ghira replied, though his expression was thoughtful. "But they call themselves 'Marines'—and they claim to be part of an order called the United States Marine Corps. I've never heard of them."

Kali's gaze lingered on the tanks, her eyes widening slightly. "And those... machines?"

Ghira shook his head. "I've never seen anything like them. I thought they might be Atlas technology, but they seem... different. Somehow, these 'Marines' seem less... rigid, less like the soldiers we know from Atlas. They move with a different kind of purpose."

Kali nodded, her curiosity clearly piqued. "Then perhaps it's time we learned more about our new friends."

As they reached the town square, Ghira gestured to the troops to halt. The Marines and Japanese soldiers stopped on command, their formations neat and disciplined, weapons held at the ready but not threateningly so. Ghira cleared his throat, drawing Anthony's attention.

"Sergeant Grant," Ghira said, his voice respectful, "welcome to Kuo Kuana. This is our home... and for now, your refuge." He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "We have much to discuss, but I would like to know more about where you come from. You mentioned the United States. Are they... a kingdom, like Vale or Atlas?"

Anthony exchanged glances with Fernandes, a faint smile on his lips. "No, not exactly, sir," he replied, a touch of humor in his voice. "The United States is a country—a very large one. We're from Earth, not... wherever this is or from." He paused, glancing at the town, the villagers, and the animal-like features of the Faunus. "This is going to sound strange, but... this place, these people, your world—it's not like ours."

Ghira's brows furrowed. "Not like... yours?"

Anthony took a deep breath, realizing that explaining this was no easy task. "We don't have creatures like the Grim-I mean Grimm, or people with animal traits like yours. We have different... technology. It sounds crazy, I know, but it's true. We're here because something brought the Grimm—and your lands—into our world. Earth."

The Menagerie guards exchanged confused, murmuring glances, and even Kali seemed taken aback. Ghira, though skeptical, looked closely at Anthony, searching his face for any hint of deception.

"If what you say is true," Ghira began slowly, "then your arrival here, and ours in your world, is as much a mystery to you as it is to us."

Anthony nodded, his expression earnest. "Exactly. We don't know why this happened. But what we do know is that our people—the United States and our allies—are committed to making sure we handle this peacefully. We're not here to invade or conquer. We're here to understand, to help if we can."

Kali stepped forward, her voice calm and steady. "Then perhaps we can help each other." She glanced at Ghira, who nodded in agreement. "Your world, this... Earth, sounds as unfamiliar to us as ours must be to you. We may not have all the answers, but we'll share what we can."

Ghira looked at the troops one more time, his mind whirling with possibilities. These men—these Marines and Japanese soldiers—were from another world. And despite his initial reservations, he could see the truth in their words. Whatever had brought them here, it was beyond their understanding.

"Then it seems," Ghira said slowly, his gaze shifting between the troops and his people, "we are on the brink of something neither of our worlds could have anticipated."

Anthony gave a short nod, an unspoken understanding passing between them. They were different, and yet, they were bound by the same need to survive, to understand, and, perhaps, to find peace.

As they stood in the heart of Kuo Kuana, the echoes of two worlds meeting filled the air, a fragile truce formed in the shadow of a mystery that stretched across universes. And as both sides looked to the future, they knew that the journey ahead would test their resolve, their beliefs, and their strength in ways neither could yet comprehend.

As Ghira exchanged words with Anthony, the air shifted, an uneasy tension filling the square of Kuo Kuana. The feeling intensified as a figure emerged from the shadows, followed by several White Fang grunts, each wearing the familiar red insignia on their arms. Sienna Khan, the formidable leader of the White Fang, strode forward, her gaze sweeping over the assembled Marines, Japanese soldiers, and the massive Abrams tanks with a look of appraisal mixed with something close to curiosity.

Sienna's eyes narrowed with intrigue, her stance confident as she took in the presence of these newcomers. The power and precision of their equipment weren't lost on her. "Quite the force you have here," she remarked, her tone even but laced with a touch of admiration. She glanced at the tanks, her gaze lingering on the intricate armor and sheer size, and then shifted her attention to the troops in camouflage patterns that matched the surrounding jungle. She assumed, naturally, that these were Faunus, allies of some sort, given the discipline and armament that rivaled even Atlas.

"We've had our own encounters in the jungle," Sienna said smoothly, turning her sharp gaze toward Ghira and Anthony. "My scouts and I found one of these... humans," she continued, her voice carrying a hint of disdain as she spat out the word, "lost, injured, and dressed in strange clothing."

The Marines and Japanese soldiers exchanged wary glances, none more tense than Fernandes, who frowned, clearly puzzled by her phrasing. "What do you mean, a human?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

Sienna didn't answer immediately. Instead, she nodded to her grunts, who dragged forward an Australian soldier. The soldier was battered and bruised, his uniform torn and stained with blood, his expression dazed as he stumbled forward, supported roughly by the two White Fang grunts on either side.

The sight of the injured man drew gasps from the Faunus villagers gathered nearby, as well as shocked murmurs from the Marines and Japanese soldiers. Anthony's eyes narrowed, a flicker of anger flashing across his face as he recognized the man's uniform—the unmistakable camouflage of the Australian Special Air Service Regiment.

Sienna turned back to Ghira, a smirk on her lips. "We found him lost in the jungle, wandering like some confused child," she began, her tone cold. "I planned to interrogate him, find out just what a lone human was doing this deep in our territory, but..."

She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening as two Japanese medics moved swiftly forward, their faces set with determination as they began administering first aid to the injured Australian soldier. One medic carefully checked his pulse, while the other began cleaning and dressing his wounds with a practiced efficiency. The soldier, though barely conscious, murmured his thanks, visibly relieved by their presence.

The sight seemed to unsettle Sienna, her expression shifting from surprise to something more calculating. She took a step closer, her gaze fixed on the medics as she studied their faces, her eyes narrowing as she noted the lack of any obvious Faunus traits.

And then, her expression darkened. Realization dawned, and it was quickly followed by anger. She straightened, a dangerous gleam in her eyes as she reached for the weapon at her hip, her grip tightening as she leveled it toward the medics.

"These medics," she spat, her voice laced with fury, "they're humans."

In an instant, weapons were drawn. Anthony, Fernandes, and Tanaka raised their rifles, their stances tense and unwavering as they aimed at Sienna and her White Fang grunts. The Marines and Japanese soldiers around them followed suit, their weapons trained on the White Fang, their expressions grim and resolute.

Sienna's eyes flashed, her jaw clenched as she glared at the soldiers with a mixture of shock and outrage. "You... you're all humans," she hissed, her voice barely containing her fury. "Deceitful, dangerous humans walking freely in our city. And you expect us to believe you mean no harm?"

Ghira stepped forward, raising his hands in an attempt to diffuse the escalating situation. "Sienna, please," he said, his voice calm but firm. "These people—Marines, as they call themselves—fought alongside us against the Grimm. They've shown no hostility toward our people, and their medics are helping the wounded."

Sienna's eyes flicked toward Ghira, her expression unyielding. "And you trust them so easily? Have you forgotten what humans have done to our people? How quickly they turn on us the moment it suits them?"

Anthony took a step forward, his rifle still raised but his tone measured. "Listen, I understand your distrust," he said, his voice steady. "But we didn't come here to start a fight. We're here because something brought us—your entire world—into ours. We're not here to harm anyone. Right now, we're just as lost as you are."

Sienna's grip on her weapon tightened, her gaze unwavering. "You expect me to believe that humans—heavily armed and hiding among us—are here by chance? That you're not some kind of reconnaissance force, preparing to bring your armies down on us?"

Fernandes, frustration clear on his face, shook his head. "Look, lady, I don't know what you think we're here for, but we're not 'soldiers' out to conquer anything. We're Marines, and we protect people. Right now, that includes everyone here."

Sienna's lips curled into a sneer, but before she could respond, one of the Japanese medics spoke up, his tone calm but firm. "He's telling the truth. We're not here to harm you or your people. We're here to understand what happened, and hopefully to find a way to coexist peacefully."

Sienna's expression remained hard, her eyes darting between the medics, the Marines, and Ghira, whose face was etched with concern. She seemed torn, her fingers twitching on her weapon as she weighed her next move.

Ghira stepped forward once more, his tone firm. "Sienna, we all know the pain and history between humans and Faunus. But these people have shown us no harm, and they came to us offering help. They're lost, like we are, and they're trying to understand what brought our worlds together. If we turn on them now, we're no better than those who've wronged us."

Sienna's gaze flicked back to Ghira, her jaw clenching as she struggled with his words. For a long, tense moment, she remained silent, the weight of her decision evident on her face. Finally, with a reluctant sigh, she lowered her weapon, signaling for her grunts to do the same. The White Fang members followed suit, though their expressions were still wary.

"This isn't over," she said coldly, her gaze hard as she looked at Anthony, Fernandes, and Tanaka. "I don't trust you, and I don't trust your intentions. But for now, I'll let Ghira's faith in you hold."

Anthony relaxed slightly, though he kept his rifle at the ready. "We're not asking for blind trust," he replied. "Just the chance to prove that we're not here to harm anyone."

Sienna's eyes narrowed, but she nodded curtly. "Fine. But know this—I'll be watching. And the moment you show your true colors, we won't hesitate."

With that, she turned, motioning for her grunts to follow as she strode away, her steps stiff with barely contained anger. The remaining Faunus villagers watched her departure in silence, a mixture of relief and unease in their expressions.

Ghira let out a slow breath, turning to Anthony and his team. "Thank you for showing restraint," he said quietly. "Sienna's distrust runs deep, and for good reason. But I believe that, given time, she'll come to see that we share common ground."

Anthony nodded, his expression resolute. "We understand. We're here to protect, not to destroy. And I hope that's something everyone here will come to realize."

Ghira offered a faint smile, though his eyes were troubled. "We all have much to learn, it seems."

As the tension slowly faded, Anthony and his fellow troops began to lower their weapons, a silent truce holding in the uneasy aftermath. The world around them was still as foreign and uncertain as ever, but perhaps, with patience and determination, they could forge a path forward—one that might finally bridge the divide between human and Faunus, between Earth and this strange new land.

Sienna Khan stormed away from the square, her mind churning with frustration and suspicion. Around her, the White Fang grunts whispered and muttered, some of them casting glances back at the Marines and Japanese soldiers who'd remained in Kuo Kuana under Ghira's watchful eye. Sienna felt her jaw tighten, an old anger flaring up at the sight of armed humans standing so casually within Faunus territory. And not just humans—well-equipped, well-trained humans, with an air of seasoned experience about them.

The Marines' strange weapons and massive vehicles still lingered vividly in her mind, and she'd caught enough of Anthony and David's steady, cold stares to know that these men were no strangers to violence. The way they'd held their weapons, the firm but calm way they addressed her—it all pointed to something she couldn't ignore. These weren't ordinary people. They were soldiers, seasoned in ways even the best of Atlas's military weren't.

"High Leader Khan," one of her grunts whispered, leaning close as they moved through the winding paths of the village. "We should strike now, while they're still gathering their bearings. We could easily overpower them, steal their weapons and those... machines."

A chorus of murmurs rippled through the small crowd around her, many nodding in agreement. Another grunt, younger and fiery with ambition, added, "Or we could catch them while they're resting, kill them off silently, one by one. They're humans—they wouldn't see it coming."

Sienna paused, letting the words sink in. She felt a flicker of temptation, a dark thrill at the thought of using their advantage in numbers and home terrain to eliminate these strangers, take their advanced technology, and prove to the Faunus that the White Fang still held power. She knew that many among her ranks would jump at the chance. It sounded logical, even tempting, to gain an upper hand against these newcomers from another world.

But something held her back. Something that had little to do with logic and everything to do with instinct.

She remembered the cold, assessing gaze Anthony had given her—the way he'd sized her up in an instant, his rifle steady, his eyes piercing. And Fernandes, too, had looked at her and her grunts with a practiced readiness, like a wolf poised to strike if threatened. There was something chillingly sharp in their stance, something that told her that they'd lived through battles before, and not just simple skirmishes but brutal, unforgiving wars.

These men—no, these Marines—were dangerous, and Sienna knew that attacking them recklessly could bring the wrath of something far bigger than they could handle. She'd seen enough to know they weren't bluffing when they spoke of peace, but she also sensed the fierce, unyielding resolve behind their words. If the White Fang attacked, they wouldn't hesitate to fight back. And if their weapons and armor were anything to go by, it would be a bloodbath.

"Enough," she said, her voice low but carrying authority as she held up a hand. The grunts around her fell silent, looking at her with a mixture of eagerness and confusion. Sienna's sharp eyes swept over each of them, assessing their expressions, their barely contained excitement.

"We're not fools," she continued, her tone cold and cutting. "Attacking them outright would be foolish. We don't know the full extent of their strength. Did you see the way they handled those Grimm? Their weapons tore through the beasts like they were made of paper. And you think we can simply take their vehicles, their weapons, without consequences?"

One of the grunts shifted uncomfortably, glancing down. "But High Leader... they're just humans. Ghira might be soft enough to trust them, but we—"

"Quiet," Sienna snapped, fixing him with a glare that silenced him instantly. She took a breath, calming herself before she continued, her gaze still hard. "These aren't ordinary humans. Whatever world they come from, whatever country they serve, they are seasoned warriors. I saw it in their eyes, in the way they moved. They are trained for war in ways even Atlas soldiers aren't."

Her words sank in, and she saw the hesitant understanding in her followers' eyes. They were used to thinking of humans as either soft or as enemies to overpower. But these Marines didn't fit either mold.

Another grunt, older and more cautious, nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps it would be wiser to observe them first, High Leader. If they're truly lost here, they'll need allies. We could use that... gather intel, understand their motives."

Sienna nodded slowly, a calculating gleam in her eyes. "Precisely. If they truly mean no harm, then Ghira can play his games of peace. But if they're here to undermine us, to prepare for some sort of invasion..." Her lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile. "Then we'll know exactly how to strike."

The younger grunt who had suggested the ambush earlier still looked skeptical, but he held his tongue, shifting uncomfortably. "And if Ghira decides to trust them?"

"Then we'll bide our time," Sienna replied. "Let Ghira do what he does best—talk. We'll use his trust to our advantage, and we'll be there, watching every move they make. If they slip, if they reveal even a hint of ill intention, we'll be ready."

Her followers nodded, their loyalty unshaken. Sienna could see the fire in their eyes, a mix of anger, pride, and determination. They wanted justice, retribution, and the chance to prove the strength of the White Fang. But she knew that rushing into conflict now, without understanding these Marines and their mysterious technology, would be reckless.

"Remember this," she said, her voice low but resonant. "We don't know what these 'Marines' and their allies are truly capable of. I'll not risk the White Fang on a whim. We'll observe, we'll gather information, and if the time comes... we'll be ready to strike with the precision of a blade."

Her words settled over them, and she saw the grudging acceptance in their faces. The thrill of battle could wait. The White Fang was no mere rabble, after all—they were warriors with purpose, and Sienna would lead them with both strength and caution.

As she turned back toward the square, her gaze briefly drifted to where the Marines and Japanese soldiers were regrouping, her eyes narrowing as she studied Anthony and Fernandes from afar. The two men stood with the air of practiced veterans, alert and wary, as if sensing her gaze even from a distance.

They were dangerous. She knew it in her bones.

And if they ever showed their true colors—if they turned against the Faunus or endangered Menagerie—Sienna would make sure they regretted it.