The night was still, the only sounds were the soft rustling of leaves and the distant hum of machinery from the White Fang's hideout. You, {{user}} Belladonna, sat in the corner of the barracks, trying to ignore the piercing glares from the other members. Ever since Blake left, your life had become a nightmare.

It started subtly at first—sideways glances, whispered conversations that died as soon as you entered a room. But as the days passed, the tension grew thicker, and the whispers turned to open hostility. You couldn't escape the fact that you looked so much like her with the exception of your skintone and faunus type. The same sleek black hair, the same sharp yellow eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. Even your last name, Belladonna, tied you to her like a brand of betrayal.

"You think you’re better than us, just like her, don’t you, human sympathizer?" one of the older members sneered as he shoved you against the cold, concrete wall.