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Chapter Text

PREFACE
RWBY is one of my favorite pieces of media to interact with. From watching Red vs Blue in middle school and seeing the Red Trailer for the first time, RWBY has been a source of joy and inspiration in my life. I remember back then, one of the criticisms leveled against the show was that JNPR got so much screentime that the show should have just been called JNPR. While I disagree, as we now know how important these four characters would be for the story of Remnant, it did make me think: what if, way back in 2012, Monty Oum splattered ketchup on a napkin to make Remnant, and told Miles Luna and Kerry Shawcross about his intentions to make a show named 'JNPR'?

This fic will be a look at Remnant through that lens. Some canon events change. Some are completely avoided. Others, happen at different times. There are even a few new things in here. But the one thing I want to get ahead of is that I do not consider this a 'fix it' work. While I've pooled inspiration from a great many sources, including creators who talk about the many flaws of this show, I do not believe RWBY needs to be fixed, per se. I love it as it is. This fiction will, at no point, be advocating that these routes are what the show should have done. This is an excuse to put a decade-old bugbear out of my head and onto the page, and in the process, play around with some of my favorite themes and characters. So please, do not feel that this comes from a place of hostility - it comes from love, and a desire to share my love and gratitude to the FNDM and CRWBY through my artistic expression.

Finally, I would like to profess my written thanks to Monty Oum. None of this would be possible without him, and while he's gone, his impact on my life has been incalculable. His work was inspiring, and he always encouraged fans to take what he made and create with it. His creative spark survives through every piece of fanart, every fanfiction, every stray "what-if?" thought. Monty, your hand graced all of our lives, and turned them all to gold, and you have my eternal gratitude.

Without further to-do, I present JNPR Volume One: Origins!

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Long ago, there lived a lonely girl in an isolated tower.

Her heart pined for human connection, but her father kept her locked away, believing he knew what was best for her. However, she never stopped dreaming that someday, she would have the opportunity to form kinship with another soul. One fateful day, a brave and peerless knight arrived at the foot of her tower. And, with his cunning and skill, he navigated his way to the top itself, liberating the girl from her hidden prison.

He introduced her to the world beyond her window. He showed her the treasures of life, from the simplest butterflies to the grandest mountain ranges, all the while hand-in-hand with the girl. Soon, their friendship blossomed into love. The girl and the knight had bonded their souls completely, and could not stand to be separate.

But one day, the knight developed a strong fever, succumbing to the sudden illness not long after. As quickly as he had come, the knight was gone. The girl, distraught, begged the very gods themselves to use all the magic in this wonderful, wide world to return him to her, or otherwise allow her to pass into the realm of death to be united with him once again. She threw herself at the feet of their mighty thrones, begging for just one miracle, only to be denied outright.

Furious at the injustice with which these two deities ruled her world, she took action. In her many travels, she had made many companions. Proud swordsmen unrivaled in their arts, lonely magicians who wielded the very elements around them, archers capable of unparalleled accuracy and distance - they all flocked to her ranks, eager to aid their friend in her time of need. With them, the legions of mankind united, all motivated by their desire to bring the good knight back, to reverse the cruel fate that had ripped their beloved friend away. They were prepared to bear arms to do so.

The gods showed the girl no mercy, smiting her followers and casting her low. The girl was defeated, her hopes of seeing the knight again seemingly dashed forever. In their fury, they razed the very world itself, so enraged that mortals would dare to question their judgement in such a brazen act of disrespect. But legend says that as the brother deities departed this world, the girl remained, plotting her vengeance against the deities who had so thoroughly wronged her...

~~~

Roman Torchwick considered himself to be a very prompt and timely man. No matter the arrangement or occasion, he was the sort that loved to arrive an hour early, valuing punctuality and the perks it secured. But now, as he found himself standing in the midst of an empty warehouse on the outskirts of Vale, he had to admit that he was not really gaining much from this choice of time investment. Roman had walked the grounds of the industrial ruin at least a dozen times, with only the soft clicking from his cane to keep him company. Perhaps, he considered, he should have brought his companion. Maybe she would have seen something he missed. But from where he stood on the second story observation catwalk of this gaping, dim maw of corporate neglect, he couldn't see a thing worthy of note.

He tipped his bowler up slightly, huffing a sigh as he pulled a stopwatch from his white duster. He had five minutes yet to wait. With a soft grumble, he tucked the watch away and began to fish around in his coat pockets for a cigarette. As he pulled the cigarette out, he went to pat down his back pocket for his lighter. Oddly enough, no matter how much he patted, it didn't seem to produce the familiar bump. Had he been so careless as to drop it? Surely, if there was a way to make this experience yet worse, he would have the misfortune to-

"Need a light?" A youthful, cheery voice called from behind him, derailing his train of thought. Roman turned about to face this new figure, casually leaning back on the rusted railing - worrying all too late about the coppery stain it might leave on his fancy jacket. Before him stood a lovely young girl with peppermint-green hair, short in the front but longer in the back. She wore a white half jacket that parted to a green undershirt, and matching white bell-bottom pants. Roman smiled. He did so enjoy the nostalgia of those halcyon disco dancehall days that this girl had seemingly stepped right out of. However, his overindulgent gaze of her form ended abruptly when, between two narrow fingers and a thumb, she presented his lighter, instantly recognizable by the chipped metal at the spoke and half-empty lighter fluid compartment visible through the transparent red plastic.

"My, aren't you a dexterous one?" He asked with forced mirth, prying a smirk to his face. Much as this girl introducing herself through pickpocketing had earned his distaste, he could ill afford to antagonize his new client by throwing a stink. It wasn't the first time, after all, that a hopeful had tried to earn Roman's gaze through an act of similar... initiative. He held his hand out, allowing his smirk to expand into a smile. "As a matter of fact, I would."

The girl gave a smile of her own, handing the lighter back with no protest. That was, until the very end, when she closed her hand into a fist around the device mere moments before Roman could collect his prize. "Cinder sent me for you. She's waiting downstairs."

Roman tipped his bowler once more, making a twirling flourish of his cane to grip it mid-shaft as opposed to its handle. "I'd hate to keep your employer waiting. Be a doll and take me to her?"

A short stride had led them back downstairs, to where a desk sat in the midst of a once-unlit maw. A single lamplight burned overhead, shining amber light down onto the lone table, and the pair of rusty chairs sitting at opposing ends of it. When the young pickpocket swept her hand in a faux bow, Roman approached one of the chairs, sitting gently. He folded his left leg over his right knee, balancing his cane in his lap beneath his arms, clasping his hand together. He was invested. Most of his clients lacked this air of showmanship in their presentations. They would brag about dust figures they couldn't meet, quotas that both parties knew they'd never fill. They'd try to dazzle him with impossible promises and hopeless schemes. But this... theatre? Roman could appreciate the indulgence of such an effort. What he could appreciate more was the woman stepping out of the shadows. Roman heard her before he could see her - long, purposeful strides that resulted in clicks so soft that he swore she walked on glass. Long, slender legs that led to a short, red dress. Black hair, cropped neatly around her ears, and the most beautiful set of amber eyes he'd ever looked into. Roman was already making notes of how much he liked this new crew, and the scenery they brought with them. He then chuckled softly aloud, all the while internally thinking about what his companion would think of his lecherous stares.

When the woman came fully into the light, she remained on her feet, allowing her companion to take the seat across from Roman. As the youth stared back at him, he finally noticed her piercing, red eyes. Of course, such eye colors weren't necessarily rare or worth writing home about, but it was more so how she looked at him, as if she were attempting to bore a hole directly into his soul instead of gazing softly upon it. He decided then and there that he wasn't a fan of that look.

The taller girl with the dress and the dark hair, Roman surmised, must be Cinder. She rested her hands gently on the pickpocket's shoulders, a smile curving onto her lips. "Roman Torchwick. You are not an easy man to find."

"I can be, with enough motivation." He smiled, keeping his posture the same, edge-of-his seat balancing act. He was hooked onto every step of this performance. "After all, you certainly had no trouble. I'd like to think the right people can find me very easily."

"Maybe so." Cinder slowly let the words slip into the air, the feintest disinterest in her voice. It was a pleasant sight and distraction from the pickpocket, who kept her eyes glued to Roman with the same passive, neutral stare and the same creepy, empty half-smile. "My contact here in Vale says that you are the best when it comes to dust heists, and your network of connections allows you and your secured loads to disappear like a ghost into the midnight air."

"I would say that most of that is true." Roman smiled, giving a polite tip of his bowler. The third time he'd touched it, as if it were a soothe. He reminded himself to quit it, as it might make him come off as nervous. Roman wanted to be in control of this exchange. "So, what can this ghost do for you lovely ladies?"

"Emerald? Be a dear and show Mister Torchwick the target." Cinder said, and the strange girl with the red eyes - no longer internally noted as 'the pickpocket' alone from his point of view - reached to her hip. She slid her scroll, a narrow telecommunication device, across the table to around the halfway point, allowing it to project the image of a building.

Not just any building, Roman realized rather quickly. The large central funnel, surrounded by three large industrial spaces and a single five-story corporate tower, was the unmistakable visage of Coldslate Distribution Solutions, a local subsidiary of the Schnee Dust Company - the largest dust export company in the world, and the industrial pride of the Kingdom of Atlas. Roman had pulled heists on practically every store in Vale, but he had never had the scope to take on a whole dust refinery. However, where most criminals would balk with horror or protest that such a job was beyond their means, most criminals were not Roman Torchwick. He unfolded his legs, stood up with enthusiasm, and while clutching his cane with both hands he stared at the floating, spinning projection as if it were the prize cut of ham at a Solstice feast. "I've always adored ambition. It won't be easy... and it won't be cheap."

"My purse runs quite deep, Mister Torchwick." Cinder said, a predatory smile surfacing. Roman saw her, and realized that he had never seen any one of his clients look at him with such desire. Not for him, but for what he could provide. He sat before her feeling like a hammer ogled by a carpenter ready to finish his labor and retire to a bar. "Cost is no concern. I am looking for results, and I'm willing to pay well to ensure I have them."

"So, are we talking a quick hit on their R-and-D department for a new dust mixture, a grab off of some new line?" Roman raised a brow as he rubbed his hands briskly together in an idle motion, trying to corner what Cinder was after.

"All of it." She said, her smile expanding enough to show teeth. "Every last granule, from the most common strains to the rarest they have in development. I... do not care. I want all of it."

Roman leaned in on his knee the slightest bit forward, studying her face. Gods, she was serious. She wanted him to clean out the largest dust refinery in Vale. A daunting task, but the imagined payout was leviathan in his mind. His imagination swam with retiring to a tiny little island, watching tournaments on a television the size of a billboard. In a swift motion, he popped up to his feet, pressing the tip of his cane to the ground. He leaned forward, tipping his bowler up one last time. "Well, I do so hate to leave a beautiful woman wanting. Now, let's talk figures..."

Chapter Text

Jaune Arc was not the biggest fan of flying.

No, actually, Jaune hated flying. As he stood by the window of the transport, propped against it with his left arm, he watched the city of Vale pass beneath, like lines of ants wandering between pieces of a boardgame. He ran his spare hand up through his messy, blonde hair, gripping tightly at his scalp. A kindly passenger, and he meant that with all the sass and irony he could muster, had suggested he walked to the window to take a look, that it might calm his nerves. She'd smiled, oh she'd smiled with those big, green eyes, and that teasing fake smile, spouting some made-up fairytale of how it helped her cope wit her fears on her first flight.

And like the idiot he was, he'd bought it. He actually bought it. He took his happy backside over to the window and gazed out, only to feel every single snack he'd eaten since Argus come boiling up, over, and out. He'd nearly gotten it on his hoodie, too. Which would have been terrific when meeting his peers. He swore right then and there, if he saw her again, he'd give her a piece of his mind.

"Excuse me?" He heard a voice behind him, drawing his attention. Another girl, shorter than him by a decent bit, stood behind him. She had silver eyes - the first thing he noted about her, besides her friendly smile and the short, black hair that framed her pretty face. She offered him a compact, plastic bag. "I went and got this for you. You looked like you might really need it..."

"Thanks..." Jaune croaked out, taking the bag in his hand. "It's my first time. I'm not usually this, uh... pukey." He awkwardly fumbled around with the 'spillage bag', stealing a glance back up to the girl.

"It's fine. You're not the first person to throw up on a transport ride! I'm Ruby, what's your name?" She asked, holding a hand forward - only to recoil upon realizing where that hand had been, and what it had been cleaning a few moments prior.

"Jaune." He smiled. He'd reached to take her hand, but at the same time as her, he had also jerked his hand back with a similar realization. The two realized their mirrored expression, bursting into a slight fit of laughter. "You may have missed your stop, Ruby. As far as I know, the last stop for this ride is Beacon Academy."

"Oh, no, it's the right stop for me." Ruby stifled a giggle, walking up beside Jaune to look down from the window onto the sweeping city of Vale. "I know, I'm a little young, but I'm enrolled to begin training this year."

"Wow, you must be the real deal if they advanced you a few years." Jaune mused, blinking his eyes slightly. A pit settled into his stomach as he thought of his own capabilities, and the way he had secured his own admission to Beacon. Once more, he felt the tuggings of doubt in his mind. How woefully underprepared was he, if the girl to his right was being advanced just to come here? Had he bitten off more than he could chew?

He must have put more of a spin on those words than he thought. When he looked over to face Ruby again, she was looking up at him in concern. "Actually, I'm pretty scared." She admitted, causing Jaune to raise his eyebrows in surprise at her honest confession. "I... don't really know how well I'll fit in. My sister is attending, but she... well, I'm worried I might make her look bad unless I do really, really good."

"Hey. I'm sure you'll do fine." Jaune offered with a smile. If he was scared, and she was scared, maybe there was no harm in being a little scared together. "You deserve to be here. They wouldn't have let you in otherwise." He hoped the words meant more for her than for him. After all, Jaune was certain that she had actually earned it, quite unlike himself. The pit in his gut wasn't going anywhere. "I'm scared, too." He admitted, weakly, as he stared down to the city below, his nerves over flight now fleeing in the face of a much large, more encompassing fear. Or maybe it was the relief of finally getting to voice that thought.

"No kidding?" Ruby gave a half chuckle, patting his arm. "Well, at least we've got each other. Besides, I'm sure we're not the only two people a little scared right now..."

Of course, not far away, Ruby's suggestion was proving prophetic.

"Come on, pick up..." Pyrrha Nikos practically pushed herself up against the receiver of the in-transport long-range telephone. She had a fistful of lien coins, and had been shoving them one by one into the slots with each failure to connect. She tapped her foot nervously, taking a long, deep breath as the staticky dial tone droned out through the shoulder-wide booth.

"Hello?" An older, feminine voice asked expectantly over the phone. Pyrrha could hear every imperfection in the voice. The slightest wheeze of her lungs when forming the 'H', the dry hack that was done away from the receiver in hopes of not blasting the ear drums of whoever she was talking to. She didn't like it. She didn't like it at all.

"Hello, Mom. It's me." She forced enthusiasm into her voice, something she was exceptional at. She could hardly lie, and could barely argue, but she could fake enthusiasm like it was nobody's business. "How was the appointment?" She tried to keep her voice down, slightly paranoid that somebody might be listening in as she spoke. These weren't private spaces, after all.

"Hey, honey! The appointment went well. It's a cold. I've got some medicine for the rest of the week, and your Auntie Carol is making sure I eat and keep my fluids up." 'Auntie Carol' was one of dozens of friends that her mother, Helen, had known from the time Pyrrha was very young, dating back to the small mining town she'd been born in. Even after Shale had closed following the collapse, they'd kept close. Many now lived in the apartment building on Millage Street in downtown Argus that she'd called home since the relocation. Her mother had always said that the bonds forged by shared labor were near eternal, and she was comforted by the confirmation.

"Good... You have to promise me you'll be more careful. I spent a lot of lien on that lined jacket for you. You really need to make sure you wear it." She reminded her mom, worry creasing her brow. Pyrrha had grown up rather poor. Her father, Paris, had died in the collapse that had forced the townsfolk of Shale to be relocated into the Argus city limits. From a young age, she had done everything she could to help out. But, even with the best efforts of the two women, odd jobs worked by Helen over the years and the tournaments and publicity dealings Pyrrha had accomplished, the two still very much lived well under the line of financial comfort. It was the whole reason she was going to Beacon as opposed to Haven. Headmaster Ozpin had simply offered more of a scholarship, and that's really all it came down to. It had finally erased the last of the Nikos family debt. But, worth it as it was, it didn't make Pyrrha feel any better about leaving home.

"I'll be fine, Pyrrha. Really, I will. You need to focus on yourself. You've been blessed with an incredible opportunity. I'd hate for you to lose it by constantly looking back over your shoulder for me." Her mother said, her voice stiffening with the resolve of a formal order that only a mother could render. An order Pyrrha knew better than to argue with.

"Yes, ma'am. I'll call when I've settled into my dorm. Try to take it easy, and make sure that you're calling your friends for grocery runs, and that--"

"Pyrrha." Her mother interrupted her with a voice so stern she couldn't have been faulted for believing that her mother had scared the cold away in an instant. "I'll be fine. It's a cold, it's not the end of the world."

"...Right. Well, be careful. I love you." They exchanged their partings, and she slid the handset back onto the dial, stepping out of the booth. She drew her hoodie up to better conceal her identity, relieved when the man looming behind her was simply irritated that she'd taken so long, instead of recognizing her and demanding an autograph or similar forced pleasantry. Pyrrha was something of a celebrity in the world of huntsmen and huntresses. She had her face plastered on nearly every Pumpkin Pete's box from here to Vacuo. She hated the cereal, and the company, but taking the promotional had paid a few months of bills. Since then, she had done every event, commercial, radio appearance... literally anything that she could sign her name on to put a paycheck in her account, no matter how much she hated the attention. The one positive part of time in Vale would be freedom from it all.

Many students arrived to Beacon with some measure of their combat attire on, or had it close at hand in a duffle bag for easy transport. It had taken Pyrrha twenty odd minutes and no small use of her semblance, but she'd managed to cram every last ounce of her kit into her locker, opting to conceal herself in a bulky hoodie and baggy sweatpants, her hands rammed in her pockets, content to be just another face on a flight.

As she rounded the corner to walk into the wider cabinet, her bubble of peaceful anonymity was completely busted. She'd come face to face with the boy in the Pumpkin Pete's hoodie, very similar to her own, that she'd tried to help with his midflight failure of constitution. Jaune, was it? She seemed surprised that, when he came down from his surprise and locked eyes with her, a positively outraged look crossed his features. "You!" He accused, leveling a finger at her directly. The shorter girl to his side, who she had not yet met, seemed to look back and forth between the two, caught off guard.

"...Me?" Pyrrha asked, her bright, emerald irises dancing around the awkward and developing scene, as if it would magically summon forth an invisible fourth person that he'd really been addressing. No such luck.

"I just want you to know, you're little prank wasn't very funny." Jaune said indignantly, crossing his arms.

"I'm... not sure what you mean?" She stepped back a bit, her mind reeling. Prank? What prank had she pulled? She went back over the long flight in her mind, trying to figure out what exactly she'd done to cross anyone. Come to think of it, she had heard the unpleasant sounds of somebody vomiting a few minutes back, but she was almost certain she had nothing to do with whatever that had been about.

"Yeah, the window prank? The, 'oh, just go look out the window, the lovely scene will get your mind off of it' prank?" Jaune persisted.

Oh.

"That wasn't a prank." Pyrrha lifted her hands defensively, trying to appease Jaune's agitated state. She couldn't believe that her advice had backfired so horrifically. It made her feel terrible. She had hoped upon coming here that she'd start on a brand new page, to make new friends and companions. Now, the first person she had spoken to was very cross with her, and she knew that however unintentional, it was her fault. "That really is how I kept my nerves in check on my first transport ride. I'm so sorry, I had no idea it would affect you that way. Please, I'd love to make it up to you somehow."

"Yeah, I bet." Jaune said. He'd been bullied and mocked his entire life, and one of the favorite tactics of those bullies was the old 'oh, wow, I'm so sorry!' routine. He wasn't buying it this time, not when he had so much on the line.

"Jaune?" Ruby asked, her eyes darting between Jaune and Pyrrha. She'd connected the dots. She recognized who Jaune was having his unsavory beef with, and knew enough about the famous person to realize that this was, almost certainly, a terrible mistake.

"I've got this, Ruby." Jaune doubled down, despite Ruby's sinking face. A part of him wondered what he hoped to accomplish here, but the strong front was starting to help make the pit in his stomach go away, if only slightly. "My name is Jaune Arc. I came here to be a huntsman, not the butt of a joke."

"Jaune..." Ruby tried again, watching as Pyrrha seemed to wilt in mortification. Arc? As in, Jules Arc? Come to think of it, Pyrrha could easily see the family resemblance to the hero of Mountain Glenn. She had just blundered her way into personally wronging the son of the most famous huntsman in the Kingdom of Vale.

"I am so, so sorry!" Pyrrha bowed her head deeply, quickly moving to make her escape from the scene. Her cheeks were flushed red with embarrassment.

As she nearly bowled Jaune and Ruby over in her flight to the storage bay, Ruby turned to look incredulously at Jaune, who actually seemed to look somewhat proud of himself. "Jaune... I don't think she was trying to prank you..."

"What do you mean?" He asked. Ruby wiggled her finger to beckon Jaune in, who leaned closer for a whisper. In an instant, the color drained from his face. "Oh... Oh no..."

"Yeah..." Ruby cringed.

Chapter Text

"Or, maybe, the matching system is based on application number! If it is, I just know we'll be paired together because I put our applications in the mail at the same time! Oh, drat, what if the postal lady dropped the stack of letters and somebody else in our district applied to Beacon? No, no, that's a stupid matching system! Maybe, it's based on--"

"Nora." Ren opened his lilac eyes. He was a taller young man, pressed against the wall of the large communal hall, seated upon his sleeping bag. He slowly turned to face Nora, who was looming practically an inch or two from his face. She was on the taller end, perhaps an inch or so taller than him. She had short, peach-colored hair, neatly formed around a pair of tall fox ears that seemed to droop slightly at Ren's slight interruption. Ren sighed, allowing a comforting smile. "Breathe. I'm certain it will work out."

"But what if it doesn't?!" She cried out, pressing her hands to the side of her head, letting out a soft, fake yell. They had already switched into a matching pair of white pajamas. Matching, like nearly every other thing they owned. Even their outfits shared the unifying color of pink. "What if we end up on different teams, with different schedules, with different people and we never see each other again?!"

Ren reached out gently, taking Nora's hands in his. He closed his eyes, speaking wisdom he'd once heard from his father. "Sometimes, it's only natural that two souls entwined must divide. We're not gone, we're simply in different places." He opened his eyes, offering her a smile. "No matter what happens, we'll still see one another. It's not the first time we've had to split up for a while. But we always find a way to come back together. Besides, it might be a wonderful opportunity to meet new people. Wasn't that one of the things you were excited about before coming here?"

Nora looked away, her expression still as sour as street candies. "Not at the cost of you."

"Why don't we start now?" As much as Ren had wanted to quietly meditate for the rest of the night, the thought practices helping him banish the dark thoughts that chased him into his dreams, he imagined Nora may need this gentle push from him more than he needed ten minutes of silence. "People are mingling. See?" He gestured around the room, to where a trio of girls were bickering. "I bet they didn't know each other until today." He offered a hand to Nora, helping her slowly stand up. "Take a leap. You never know where it might lead."

Nora looked back towards the wider room, then back towards Ren with a slow, cautious nod. "...Alright. But we're going to find a way to be teamed up, right? We're at least gonna brainstorm it, right?"

"I promise." Ren's smile widened. Nora was his closest friend. From the time they were children, the two had been inseparable. And with everything they'd been through, he didn't want to separate anytime soon. Truthfully, he also wanted to do everything he could to be on her team. However, he knew they needed to prepare for the possibility that they may end up on separate teams, as much as he hoped against it. Tonight, in the quiet of the dorms, it was the perfect opportunity for casual conversations to plant the seeds of familiarity, and it might be perfect for helping Nora meet new people without too much social pressure.

When the two split, Ren decided to take the opportunity to look around for people that might meet closer to the slow, casual mood he'd hoped to set for himself that night. His eyes fell upon a girl sitting by a window, quietly reading a book by the light of the window. It was less her appearance that caught his eye, and more the book she was reading - 'The Man With Two Souls'. That was when he took note of her appearance. She had long, black hair with soft, yellow eyes and skin almost as tanned as his own. He imagined a lot of time out in the open air, traveling. He then looked to her head, spotting the bow that sat perfectly atop her head. An odd choice for pajamas, but when paired with the book that contained a favorite story of many faunus, like his lifelong companion Nora, Ren began to make assumptions about that bow and why it was there. He smiled, quietly crossing the space in between them. When the girl looked up, he offered a smile. "Berpdioloo's 'Man With Two Souls', hm? A wonderful choice in literature."

"You know it?" She asked, sounding slightly surprised. She was careful to tuck a finger into the spine, closing it gently to mark her page without damaging the book's pages with a fold. She spoke softly, as if afraid others in the room might hear her. Maybe it was Ren's own experience with faunus through Nora, but this girl was terrible at hiding it.

"It's my best friend's favorite story." He gestured his hand towards the open space next to her at a respectful couple of feet apart, and when she nodded, he sat down. "Wherefor the heart longs in the moonlight for its other half in the sun, the two souls dance ever entwined, but may never meet as one in a gentle embrace. The dance ebbs and flows, on and on, throughout the man's life." He said, quoting his own personal favorite exert, not noticing that the other girl was looking at him with an appreciative smile. "My friend, Nora. We read the story together quite often. She's a faunus," he broached the topic carefully, inviting this girl to feel perhaps more comfortable with her identity around him, "and it helps her when, sometimes, we humans can get to be a bit too much." His eyes shot open suddenly, a hand resting over his heart. "Forgive me. I didn't even introduce myself. My name is Lie Ren. I prefer to go by just Ren."

"Blake Belladonna." The girl, Blake, returned the greeting with a pleasant smile. "But you can call me Blake. It's kind of you to support her."

"She supports me, too." Ren gently deflected the praise with a grin of his own. "Do you read often, or just this?"

"I'm a fan of literature. Non-fiction, fiction... It doesn't really matter. A good story can take you miles away from wherever you are. Not to mention the peace and quiet when the immersion of a good book lets the world drop away."

"I agree. I'm also a reader, but unfortunately, I had to leave most of my catalogue behind when Nora and I came here." Ren thought fondly of the many books he'd have to replace over the next few years.

"Well, I brought my entire library." Blake's smile widened. "If you ever want to, you're more than welcome to take a few. Don't feel pressured to return them - a shared book is a gift. It doesn't always need to be returned."

"Thank you, Blake. When I get a few books under my care, the offer is of course extended to you."

Far from the peace of the new, fast friendship, Nora was pacing through the room. She saw a boy with blonde hair sadly moping over a scroll in the corner. It fit her mood right now, but she really couldn't afford to feel sadder than she already was, so she moved on. There was a taller man talking about sports with his friends, including her favorite of grappleball. The occasional words relating to passing yards that she heard with her enhanced hearing gave the topic away. She'd nearly begun to walk over when their eyes met, and then his had gone to her ears. When their eyes met again, she saw a look of disgust in his eyes. No luck there with Racist McGee. Well, she'd tried.

She turned about, ready to go find Ren and admit defeat, when she saw him engaged in a discussion with some girl and her book. Of course, Ren would find the one person reading, the book nut. And, of course, he'd been first to actually set off to make a new friend. It was his idea. His idea to split up, to find new people. Oh, gods, he'd even mentioned it was a possibility they weren't going to be paired! Could it be that he planned to ditch her to the clutches of some new person that she didn't know that would have to be the one to take care--

"Hey!" She heard a bubbly, friendly voice from just behind her. She turned around, her ears flicking straight up. "You doing alright? You look a little queasy." She spoke with a wide smile that went nice with her soft, violet eyes, and the kiss of freckles that dusted her cheeks. Usually, Nora had a similar bubbly demeanor to the tall blonde before her, but tonight, she just wasn't feeling it.

"Oh, uh, just holdovers from the transport in!" She giggled, playing it off like she'd been in a similar boat to the kid who'd blown chunks all over the transport floor.

"Yeah, I hear ya. Those transports can make you real sick if you're not prepared for it." The girl said, her smile unwavering, her eyes still dripping with a kindness that barely veiled her sympathy. Before Nora could contemplate if she was just a charity case, the blonde stranger kept speaking. "I'm Yang, it's nice to meet you!"

Yang was doing the heavy lifting in the conversation. She was actively trying to engage with Nora. She was trying, that was the key word. Not the fake sympathy of doing a good deed just to say it was done, but a kind person trying to be a ray of light in the night of a girl she'd found floundering. Nora's smile slowly snaked back onto her face until both of them were grinning like idiots at one another, clapping their hands together in a handshake. "Nora Valkyrie!"

"Nora! great!" Yang said with a twinkle in her eye. "Wanna hang out for a bit? I've done the rounds, and my sister's palling around with somebody else. I've got a minute or two, if you'd like to shoot the breeze."

"Yeah! I'd just love that!" Nora beamed. Before long, the two were talking and laughing. It was nothing deep. No inner soul-searching, or pondering the finer points of literature. It was jokes, stories about home, an exchange of terrible puns. The two were making the most noise in the room, and as Ren faintly listened from across the hall, reading an e-book on his scroll, a warm smile came to his face, relief washing through his soul. Maybe this would all work out just fine after all...

Or, at least, it would work out better than how Jaune was doing. He was still dressed, laying on his side in the corner of the room, his scroll open to a movie about two teams of red and blue soldiers, cracking jokes and fighting silly, harmless battles. It always lifted his spirits, or at least provided enough levity to take him away from the messes he got himself into.

How had he not recognized her? He could practically see the commercial he'd seen filling every fifteen-minute gap of ads on the television back home running similar, repetitive loops in his mind. Her, seated in her hand-crafted regalia, the camera light shining on the bronze of her armor like... something really bright, he couldn't quite think up right now. 'I'm Pyrrha Nikos, and when I'm feeling positively beat, I save my morning with the help of Pumpkin Pete!' He'd even done all the box-top collecting of a feverish fifth grader to turn in enough stamps for his youth large hoodie - so what, it fit just fine - with the rabbit logo on the front. And when he finally met her, possibly the most gifted huntress attending this school, he'd made a total ass of himself. See, if he had wanted to succeed, if he'd wanted to actually grow and achieve his dream as a huntsman, Pyrrha was the exact kind of person he needed to socialize with. But instead, he'd had the gall to threaten her, a reigning grand champion, that he'd keep an eye on her. She could probably fold him like a pretzel, and now all of her knowledge was lurking in another corner of the room. A corner he dared not look for. He knew it was best to apologize, but he couldn't find the fight in himself.

Once more, the deepest problem in his life reared its ugly head. His mind was willing, but when it finally came time to step up and act, he always found himself lacking. From spars to even full-contact sports. Right before the blows landed, and he needed to be ten toes down, Jaune Arc would run. He would flinch. He would hide. He hated himself for it, not knowing what invisible hand stayed him in place when he needed to get up and act. Fortunately, this time, he wouldn't have to. "Jaune?" He heard her. The voice from the commercials. From the innocent-looking mystery girl he'd accused of trying to make a fool of him. Before he could move to turn, that invisible hand kept him locked in place again. Maybe he could play it off like he was asleep. "Jaune, I... know you probably don't want to hear it, but I came to apologize." His eyes widened in a heartbeat. Just as he had when the rejection letter from Haven came, and he decided to push that invisible hand off of his soul to take action to make it into Beacon, he forced himself to turn to face her.

Pyrrha was kneeling beside him, a few feet away, clad in bright orange pajamas, a look of terrible regret clouding her face. She brushed her long, loose, scarlet hair from her face, puffing a sigh as she mulled over her words once more. "It really wasn't my intention to make you throw up on purpose. And when I heard your name..." She fell silent, looking away. "The Arc name is highly regarded in my home city. Well, I suppose, your home city, too. Argus. The heroes in your family were an inspiration to me when things were tough for my mother and I. I did a whole essay on Richard Arc in my senior year of high school." Her eyes pulsed wider for a moment, perhaps realizing how this sounded. Her hands lifted defensively. "Not that this apology wasn't due if you weren't an Arc! But, it's just that... I am really, truly, deeply sorry to have hurt you."

Jaune couldn't believe what he was hearing. A proper legend was sitting beside him, saying that the Arc name had been one she'd looked up to. He could certainly understand this tangent if his father were here, or his grandfather, or so forth. But he wasn't Jules, or Richard, he was Jaune. Dorky, clueless, foot-in-mouth, fake-transcript-submitting Jaune Arc. The least impressive in the line, who would be lucky to go down in history as a huntsman, let alone a hero. "It's alright. I..." He spoke, his mouth suddenly all too dry. "I'm sorry, Pyrrha." No introduction was needed. Of course he knew who she was. "You shouldn't be the one apologizing. I am. I overreacted, and it wasn't right. Do you... mind if we start again? Without my finger-pointing and voice-raising? You were the technically the first person I met here, and I really regrated how it went. If that's ok."

Pyrrha seemed to light up in an instant. The weight on her shoulders all but fell away. She was relieved to know, but not at all surprised, that Jaune was capable of impressive sympathy. After all, how many martyrs and heroes does your family need to produce before you can trust in an Arc's mercy on credit alone? "I'd love that." She extended a hand. "I'm Pyrrha Nikos." Of course, he'd told her his name, and he likely knew who she was, but her mother had always said that a good friendship started with an exchange of names and a good handshake.

"Jaune Arc." He offered his own hand, the two meeting in the middle. "So, why Beacon? It's an awfully long way from Argus." He noted the pang in her eyes, the subtle wince in her brow, as if the question had hit too close to home or had dug at a fresh wound.

"Better financial aid packages." She answered honestly, withdrawing her hand. Jaune sat up, closing his scroll so they could talk properly. She shifted as well, moving off of her knees. "Haven isn't the best when it comes to handing out grants for huntsmen-in-training. After all, it's a competitive scene." Sure, Haven produced more huntsmen than any other kingdom by far, lacking Beacon's 'quality over quantity' approach. But Jaune figured that somebody like Pyrrha, with an undefeated record and four Mistral Regional Tournament championships to her name, attendance would have been easy. He knew it would likely make his new friend uncomfortable to press the matter by asking about her stardom and the doors it opened, though. As an Arc, he knew that a name earned you questions about feats and requests for photos, but when it came to actual reaped rewards in way of favors or lien, they were often in short supply.

"That makes sense." He nodded. "I'm here for the same reason, too. I guess I was just nervous to admit it." He chuckled, trying to follow her lead to pad his own story. Eventually, people would ask what brought him all the way from Argus, just as he'd asked her. When he checked her face after looking awkwardly away, he couldn't see a questioning look. She'd believed him. "Maybe it's why my father chose Beacon, too." The two continued their idle chatter until lights out, when they went their separate ways. Jaune felt a lot better, feeling like Pyrrha was a friend he could rely on as opposed to a scorned figure staking revenge. All the while, Pyrrha felt relieved that she'd started out the year with a friend, not an enemy. And, one from Argus, to boot. A piece of home, all the way out here. She wondered what his favorite festivals were, or which deli he liked better in the greater downtown area. The little local things that filled your day that you just couldn't relate to with people from another city.

And the best part, to her, was that in their entire conversation, he had not mentioned her celebrity status one single time. She could tell he knew her. There was a flash of surprise most people had, as if some deity had descended down before them to grace them in her presence, and it drove Pyrrha stark-raving mad. It was isolating and demeaning in equal parts, and it left her wanting to avoid people all together as opposed to socializing with them. But Jaune had treated her as just Pyrrha. Plain, simple Pyrrha from Argus. She cherished that, and decided that if anyone in this room was to be her partner for the next few years, it would be Jaune Arc, the boy from her home town, the boy who she'd actually managed to befriend as an equal.

Around this time, Ren had also returned to his sleeping bag, sliding his way in. He thought Nora to be asleep, a lump in her bag and two ears poking from the top, rolled to the side. He smiled as he leaned back, his eyes slowly sliding closed. But as he laid down, he felt hands on his shoulders, and his body twisted towards her in a sudden, forceful rip. "NORA!" He whisper-yelled, drawing a steady chorus of hushes from fellow students.

Nora looked into his eyes, a devilish look on her face, teal eyes faintly shining in the dark - a faunus trait he was more than used to, but did not at all help to make her look any less insane in times like this. "I made a friend, and she knows how the matching for teams works." Her smile widened. "Tomorrow, we're going to make sure we end up on the same team. You just sleep tight, close those pretty eyes, and think about that! Aren't you excited?!?"

Another chorus of hushes, this timed joined with a shrill, feminine voice verbally calling out "People are sleeping!"

Ren chuckled, reaching over to pat Nora's arm, unable to rightly reach her shoulder in the position in which she held him. Nora was a constant, persistent, ever-driving force in his life. Of course, she would have used his exercise in social development to find a way to cheat the system. He answered her very quietly, but steadily. "I am very excited. Now go to sleep. We'll need our rest." When he expressed his shared enthusiasm, she giggled and rolled over, indeed ready to go to fall asleep. In that moment, Ren stared up at the ceiling, his plans for a quiet night dashed, but the negative experiences that tormented him on a nightly basis were far, far away all the same. He prayed in that moment that whatever gods or spirits were listening, they would see to it that Nora Valkyrie never changed...

Chapter Text

Pyrrha stood before her locker, inspecting her regalia. It was the same outfit she'd worn for combat since her first time appearing before the world, in the first of her four Mistral tournament wins. She relished every detail, each one holding a story, but none were more cherished to her than the scarlet sash at her waist. It was a bold declaration, greater than the ornate bronze armor reminiscent of the Argian warriors of old, or the jewelry she wore that put the finest traditional craftsmanship of her home city on display. The scarlet sash was a political statement, one of the few she dared to make. In her homeland, held tightly under the heel of Atlesian occupation, it was a symbol of the Argus Independence Front. At one point, they'd been a major political party vying for Atlesian decolonization. However, Atlas pressed their authority, and soon after, politely voting on ballots wasn't enough to move the needle. The AIF was seen as hope for many of Argus' lowest citizens, those abandoned and trampled by the rule of Atlas. People like Pyrrha, who refused to allow a councilman floating high over Mantle decide that she couldn't be Pyrrha anymore, because Atlas' take on gender law was far more regressive than what Argus culture typically considered perfectly normal. People like Helen, her mother, who had lost everything to the Schnee Dust Company's reckless pursuit of profit at any and all human or faunus cost. She remembered seeing the Front in her apartments for the first time, with their flowing red sashes as they handed out food and medicine from a raid on an Atlesian transport convoy. She recalled the smile her 'Uncle Kerido' gave her when handing her an actual, fresh apple, telling her that it was one of the good ones, so it needed to sit and ripen for a day on her counter before she ate it. It had been the best thing she'd ever tasted - her family otherwise too poor to afford fresh produce following the death of her father in the Shale Collapse.

And so, when she began to duel in tournaments on a professional level, she had donned the red sash. It was the right thing to do. The right way to show solidarity and give back to those who had given so much, ostensibly for her and her city. Every time she fought, she hoped a thousand other people just like her, laid low and trampled by the Atlas Colonial Authority, saw the sash at her waist and felt as seen and represented as she did when she'd seen those brave revolutionaries as a young girl. It was a proud declaration that Argus wasn't going to wither away. It was hope, a promise of progress. Piece by piece, they would fight back, and one day they would be free to be themselves, whoever and whatever that meant. She almost had to blink away tears. The sight of the sash never grew old to her. Honor was the closest feeling she could think of, but even it didn't paint the full picture.

"Well, if it isn't Pyrrha Nikos!" She heard a shrill voice beside her. As she bent down to pick up Milo, her spear, and Akouo, her shield, she slid her locker shut to find the source. "I see you just had to keep the belt. I'm such a huge fan of your fashion choices. Could I have your autograph?" A shorter girl was staring up at her, dressed in a fine white dress, the Schnee family emblem hand-stitched into the right shoulder of her dress' overcoat. She had a defiant and angry look on her face, her scowl warping only slightly over the long scar trailing over her left eye, her voice drenched in well-practiced sarcasm.

"I'm sorry?" Pyrrha asked, tilting her head slightly.

"No, you're not. If you were sorry, you wouldn't openly and proudly display yourself as an affiliate to a terrorist organization." She crossed her arms.

All at once, Pyrrha looked back to her sash, then smiled back at Weiss. "Well, it can't be any worse than wearing the Schnee Dust Company's sigil." She slid her weapon and shield onto her back, crossing her own arms while allowing herself to tower over the girl.

"Right, because my Uncle Frost planted a bomb in his own skybus! And he chose for it to detonate upon landing at The Boot, just to make sure he could kill a few extra Atlesian military officers with him! I had never considered that, Pyrrha!" Weiss retorted, leveling a finger at Pyrrha. By now, others were staring.

"Well, you'll forgive me if the opinion of a wealthy heiress doesn't lead me to change my beliefs." She said, sternly. She was trying to remain as passive as possible. She was, after all, under a great deal of pressure to achieve greatness at Beacon. She couldn't afford to go off the hilt at Weiss, no matter how badly she wanted to, no matter how easy Weiss was making it. "I'm sorry for your loss, but your family has killed many people as well. For instance, my father Paris, who died in the Shale Collapse. Though, he didn't get a state funeral." Pyrrha lifted a finger to her chin in fake thought. "I wonder why that might be... Possibly because he's not the economic backbone of an expansionary empire?"

"You're a freak." Weiss recoiled at how lightly her uncle's death had been taken. She knew her family wasn't flawless, but when somebody you don't like, wearing a symbol you hate, essentially tells you 'tough luck' over your assassinated uncle, logic flies out of the window. Fine. Pyrrha wanted to dress like a hot-headed radical? Weiss imagined she had a fairly short temper like one, too. She'd sort this Pyrrha business out, she just needed to take a few punches until a Professor got involved. Pyrrha watched as Weiss broke eye contact, her eyes trailing to Pyrrha's neck, where her golden gorget sat. "In more ways than one." Weiss shot her shot, waiting for Pyrrha's violent reaction. Pyrrha's emerald eyes flared. Of course, Pyrrha's transition had been unfortunately public. It was unavoidable as a world-class athlete in the midst of a Mistral Regional Tournament Run. But it never stopped a few people a year from using that as their favorite punch-point against the Invincible Girl. Pyrrha took a few steps forward, her right hand clenching into a fist swift enough to pop a few of her knuckles. Weiss seemed to notice this, immediately taking a few steps back, perhaps realizing how much she'd overdone it, realizing that for her plan to work, and Pyrrha to assault her until she was expelled, she would in fact need to be assaulted by a woman who likely hit like a freight truck.

Pyrrha only stopped when a hand wrapped around her left bicep, tugging her back. She turned, looking directly at Jaune, who watched her with a sympathetic look. His face said it all - 'not now'. Pyrrha knew he was right. No matter what the heiress said, if she struck first, she would be the one facing the consequences. She thought of her mother back home, how much she needed the money Pyrrha was providing. Slowly, she took a few breaths, before surrendering with a nod, walking back towards and past him. Jaune cast a look at Weiss, who seemed oddly guilty about what she'd said. He wondered how much of the real Weiss was in the ugly words she'd just said, and how much of it was just something she said knowing it would hurt Pyrrha, the way seeing that sash seemed to hurt Weiss. He shook his head, walking after Pyrrha. "Are you alright?"

"Just peachy keen, Jaune..." She muttered, not even bothering to phone in her usual singsong, happy voice.

Jaune didn't know what to say. His politics were milquetoast compared to her stances, but he understood why. Even he grew tired of the Atlesian military's presence in Argus, the countless checkpoints, the restricted zones. He watched helplessly as the Atlesian Colonial Authority had annulled the marriage of his eldest sister and her wife. On that matter, Pyrrha was also the first transwoman he'd ever met, so he didn't really know how to comfort her on that front either, aside from the usual generic 'you're so valid' malarkey that showed only the most surface level of support. However, Jaune was a thinker. His mind was always at work. He knew that Pyrrha didn't want to be teamed with Weiss. Obviously. Painfully obviously. So, he started with that. "Well, then I guess you're doing too good to hear about some totally secret, unknown-to-all way to guarantee our team placements? Hm... That's too bad." He offered a smirk just in time to see Pyrrha look up at him with a questioning gaze, one that showed her interest in the matter, just as she'd sat down on a bench before him. He leaned in, his smile widening. "Thought so. So, I was speaking with this faunus girl, Nora. She mentioned that one of her friends here had told her about this orientation method. We'll be launched into the woods, and we'll need to find one of four temples that each hold four relics. We take those relics, and we're a pair. Two other people take the other two matching pieces, and we're a team." He whispered the explanation out.

"Isn't that the standard orientation at every Huntsman Academy..?" Pyrrha lifted an eyebrow. Jaune immediately zipped it, worried he may have just revealed how much of a fraud he was.

Quickly, he doubled down. "Yeah, but I know where one is. Nora told me." He smiled. "As soon as we land, we can go for it. Just to the east." He continued to whisper, kneeling down in front of her, keeping eye contact. "In and out. No trouble. No wandering. Simple as silk."

Pyrrha chuckled down at him. "Well, you make it sound so easy. You must have an incredible landing strategy to be able to predict your ability to land near your objective without even seeing the distance jumped, or how hard the catapult pads will launch us."

"Sure, I've used a parachute before. My sister is big into skydiving. It's easy as pie." Jaune said confidently. When Pyrrha split into loud, open laughter, slapping her bronze knee plate, he tilted his head. "What? What's so funny?"

Of course, it wasn't until Jaune was flailing through the air, shrieking at the top of his lungs, that he understood what had made his 'joke' so hysterical to his good, dear, friend that was so good and dear that she had not elaborated on why she'd been laughing, only assuring him that he was too funny for his own good. Jaune wanted to reach back for his sword and shield, but realized it would do little to help slow him down. He had never done a landing like this before, and the woodland canopy was rising towards him faster and faster with every passing moment. His efforts only led to him beginning to take an ungainly spin through the air.

He was going to crash. His first day at Beacon Academy would be his last day on Remnant. Life was such a fickle thing. He closed his eyes, not strong enough to stare at the ground as he rapidly fell. This was it. This was how Jaune Arc would meet his end. His mother, his seven sisters, they'd all cry for a little bit. Then, probably laugh. The Arc who tried to flap his arms like a bird, only to end up a breakfast pancake instead. He barely even registered the loud crack of a rifle shot. He was only pulled from his thoughts as his physical body was literally pulled out of its death-spin. He opened his eyes, just as his back slammed into a tree, the object that had launching making an elasticized retort that echoed audibly through the trees. A glance up revealed a glistening red and gold spear pinning him by his hoodie to a tree. The same weapon Pyrrha had on her back that morning. Just as he had gone in to save her from her situation, she'd done the same for him. He let out a chuckle, happy to be alive, grateful for his new friend, before pumping his arms in the air. "Thank you!" He yelled out, hoping she was close enough to hear.

"I'm sorry!" He heard coming faintly back over the wind.

Chapter Text

As she flew through the air at a near terminal velocity, Nora laughed openly at the rush of adrenaline. This was the kind of thing she'd longed for when she'd wanted to become a huntress. She held Magnhild above her head, as if she were planning to strike something the moment she hit the ground. And, that was largely because she was - a wild animal, a fellow student, maybe even a grimm if the forest hadn't been cleared well enough. Her cheeks filled out with air as she began her descent, gravity finally deciding to end her wild ride.

With another fit of laughter, she began to look for where she'd transfer her energy. Eventually, she settled on a large tree that was directly ahead and closing fast. With a sweep of her hammer, she planted the head of the hammer forward, smashing through the bark with a thunderous explosion that sounded more like a cannon than a tree being felled. Through a hail of dust, pollen and splinters, she landed on wobbling feet, before snorting out a third fit of laughter in as many minutes. Part of the demolished tree began to rain down around her, making dense thuds as they met the ground. "Hell yeah!" She pumped her hammer in the air, thrusting it up and down over her head a few good times.

But enough of that, there was work to do. She lowered Magnhild, shaking her head vigorously to loose any spare debris from her head and upper body, looking around with squinted eyes. If she knew Lie Ren, he'd be landing not far from her. She'd told him this master plan, so obviously, he was going to follow it, right? He wouldn't go rogue? He wouldn't change his mind at the last moment and hunt down Strange Book Girl, would he? She began to pace, her nerves building like the sparks of a fire's kindling. Around that time, she heard the soft crunches of footfalls approaching her position. Nora yelped, quickly jumping back towards a nearby tree. She leaned back, throwing Magnhild up into the branches, before throwing herself at the tree. Her arms and legs spread wide, she tethered herself to the bark of the tree, scampering with muffled grunts and yips as she crawled her way up into the concealment of the foliage.

If somebody saw her, or she saw them, then they were paired. At least, that's how Professor Ozpin had explained it. If her plan was to work, and Ren really was coming, she had to make sure that she didn't see anybody else first, and that nobody saw her. She knew she'd made more than enough noise to telegraph to Ren where she was, but then, Nora had heard another gunshot shortly before landing. Should she have made more noise? Should she have made a big enough detonation to cause smoke? The forest was said to be empty of grimm, so Nora could afford the ammunition, or so she reasoned. She then cursed the gods for the bad idea. Then, herself.

"Nora?" Nora's eyes snapped open from her shaky, internal spiral. She looked out into the clearing, not seeing anybody, but she certainly recognized his voice. Ren had come for her, after all! She'd never had a doubt!

"Psssst! Psst, pssst!" She then whistled a few times. "Up here!"

"Ok... I'm coming out..." Ren called carefully, followed by nothing.

"Uh... Ren?" Nora looked curiously, wondering where he was.

"Just... checking around. Making sure it's just us. Alright, I'm coming out... now." Ren practically bolted out of the bush, his eyes locked shut. He was directly beneath her.

Her ears flicked as her face lit up with amusement. Ren was a precious soul. Slowly, she leaned down from the tree, hooking her legs to the branch. Dangling just overhead, she leaned down and planted a finger on his head with a soft poke. "Boop!" Ren looked up at her with a fond smile, glad this part of the plan had worked, at least. Suddenly, the hammer she had cast into the tree came cratering down, catching her as it fell. Ren barely sidestepped in time to avoid being buried beneath Nora and Magnhild, but gently moved to assist her up when the dust had settled.

"You're like a sloth. Except sloths are usually quiet, and can manage to stay in their trees." He teased, lifting Nora back to her feet. She collected her hammer, and the two began their walk east. "So, I heard you made a new friend last night."

"Yang Xiao Long! Yeah! She's very energetic. You know, I thought I saw you reading with somebody, too." Nora replied in a chirpy voice. "Is she the one~?!" She teased.

Ren let out a soft chuckle, then said what was swiftly becoming his catchphrase. "Nora..." When the two were done chuckling, he continued. "It was nothing like that. Her name is Blake Belladonna. She's interested in literature, and has many of the same interests in stories as you, if you can believe it. She was even reading 'The Man With Two Souls'. I'd like to introduce... Nora?"

Nora had stopped dead in her paces, her eyes locked forward and ears pinned back, her hands tightening to the point of white knuckles. Of course. How could she have been so blind? When she'd saw Ren talking with her the night before, something about Blake had seemed remarkably familiar. The dark hair and yellow eyes were a dead give-away, she was definitely a Belladonna. She couldn't blame Ren for walking her headlong into this trap - she had never told him of many of the events that preceded her arrival in Kuroyuri. Her teeth grit, fury in her eyes. Even here, thousands of miles from Mistral, the White Fang had found a way to haunt her like a specter. When Nora felt the weight of hands gently pulling at her hammer, she turned jade eyes back to Ren, who was staring at her with a deep and genuine look of concern. Nora shook her head. "I... don't want to talk about her. Or it." She said, including her past in that collection of things not to pry about.

"You know I would never press." Ren was now doing that thing he did. That neutral, non-judgmental tone, the sympathetic pang in his eyes. It drove Nora wild in all the worst ways, but in the end, she knew he was only trying to help. He silently invited her to open up if she cared to, but opted to simply stand there before her, his hands over hers, over the hilt of her hammer. What she wanted to do was take Magnhild to the White Fang operative skulking around. If Blake was here, Nora had no doubt it was to finish what the Fang had started - the purge of her family. Two decades prior, a single member of her family, an uncle or aunt maybe, had caught wind of a White Fang plot to strike a nearby settlement. Whoever they were, they had tipped off law enforcement, thwarting the attack. Unfortunately, word got back to the Fang, and per their customs, the entire Valkyrie clan had been put to the blade. As far as Nora knew, she was the only one to get away, and if this Blake girl wanted to change that, she wouldn't find a sad, scared little girl begging for her life. She'd find herself a fight.

"Keep an eye on her." Nora all but spat out, closing her eyes. "I... don't trust her." Even here, even now, she didn't dare reveal the Fang. There were certain things a faunus shouldn't do - as her family had learned through an unfortunate political purge. Ren stared at her with a long list of questions whirling in his mind. None of them particularly appeased the stalemate they found themselves in. He wasn't used to Nora getting this serious, and it certainly concerned him. However, she was still his best friend, and he would not probe her for anything she didn't wish to share.

"Of course. I'll be diligent around her." He had no reason to automatically assume Blake was a threat, or particularly worth Nora's ire. He made a note to ask Nora later when the sudden shock was less fresh. "We should probably get moving towards the temple. You had a master plan, right? I'm sure the other entrants are beginning to make progress." He reminded her. He did not mean to rush her, but he assumed the diversion would help her to get mentally back into the game, so to speak. He watched in real time as her mood lifted. Only then did he remove his hands from her own. She shouldered her hammer, and the two continued towards the temple to the east of their landing zone.

Not far away, Jaune and Pyrrha were making their own progress. Jaune had his thumb lifted up to the skies, occasionally tucking it back into his mouth before sticking the saliva-covered digit back to the sky. "My scroll says the prevailing wind is eastwardly, so this should be the right way..." He tucked his scroll back into the pocket of his jeans, marching with purpose towards a direction he calculated to be east..

Yet, that direction seemed more incorrect with every sudden turn, or every time Pyrrha glanced up to the sun shining from above and to her left. "Right, Jaune..." She'd said softly, taking another such sun spotting, careful to shield her eyes with her shield. "Jaune, do you really know where we're going?"

"Of course! Nora, the girl I was telling you about, said the temple was to the east of here. Which, using the wind-feel tracking method, is this way." He gestured forward. After enough time checking the direction Jaune maintained and the location of the sun in relation to themselves, Pyrrha was certain they were actually headed north.

It was just one more thing in a slightly concerning pattern she was starting to observe. At first, she had ignored his blunder during the launch. Jaune seemed to have an immense weight on his shoulders, and Pyrrha could certainly relate. So, who cared if he'd been caught off guard and had tripped out of the gate, so to speak? But then, once on the ground, he had demonstrated a few other oddities. For one, she had been a bit careless guiding through the brush, and had accidentally allowed a tree branch to slip from her grasp, thwacking Jaune in the face. It had left a bleeding laceration, which lingered for a moment before his aura began to respond, far too slowly. And now, there was this strange field navigation technique that he insisted was the rage at his previous school, but had so far only succeeded in leading the two in circles.

It wasn't like she was having regrets about working with Jaune. He had met her on rough terms, that was true. But since around twelve hours ago, they had been fast friends. He'd even stepped in to help her in the locker room with Weiss. He was a good man, that much was certain. Something simply wasn't adding up, and she was having a hard time pinning exactly what it was. As she walked behind Jaune, she took care not to correct him too many times. She'd tried, at first, when a few of his ideas contradicted what she'd learned through her own practical experience. He had taken it to heart, clearly demonstrating enough common sense to learn from and act upon her advice, but a part of him seemed to take it badly, like such advice stung. His eyes would make little, slow movements that suggested either concern or otherwise unhappy thoughts. In the end, she'd decided to simply allow Jaune to take charge in his own way, trusting there was a 'method to the madness'.

After a few more minutes of blind wandering, they came across an odd, cave-like hollow. The hole ran deep, as the sunlight didn't seem to extend very deep within. The way the dirt and rocks pushed up and out around it, the cave looked like some sort of large creature had burrowed out from underground. Pyrrha had begun to think over the list of Sanus-native fauna that might make such a large hole, when Jaune began to walk towards it with a simple 'hmpf!'. "Jaune, wait!" She cried out, lifting her left hand towards him.

Jaune turned around, his head canting to the side. "What is it? This is the temple we were looking for. Now all we need to do is find the relics and wait for two more people."

"Don't you think there's a pretty distinct lack of... well, architecture, for it to be a temple?" Pyrrha asked politely. While the Professors had said that the forest was most likely clear of Grimm, a few swipes from a grizzly bear could be as deadly as those delivered by an ursa. And the more she looked at it, the list of animals that might lurk within the cave seemed to grow and grow.

Jaune shook his head, a smile on his face. "Long ago, back before the settlements of the modern kingdoms, ancient humans would gather in hollows like this one." He explained. "Eventually, their populations would outgrow the cave. However, the humans that would go on to become the kingdom of Vale revered their cave homes. Shelter from weather, from the grimm, safety from raids from other tribes... they didn't want to leave them. So, less-permanent structures like tents and lean-to's were constructed around them, the caves becoming something like sacred ground. Millennia later, all that remains are the hovels themselves. I wonder if there's any paintings! Wouldn't that be really freaking cool?!?" He asked her, pumping his fists. While Pyrrha was growingly worried by his in-field performance, she was at least willing to admit he was quite gifted with knowledge of history.

"...I don't know." Pyrrha winced, shaking her head slowly. "I still don't think that's what the Professor was referring to when he said 'temples'. Aren't most of those remains registered as world heritage sites, anyway? I doubt they would be part of the orientation..."

"Come on, Pyrrha. Trust me." He opened his scroll, activating the flashlight function before reaching out to take Pyrrha's hand. She waited, hesitation briefly staying her hand before she ultimately relented and took Jaun's hand in her own. Slowly and with careful footsteps, they began into the cave. She made sure to keep Milo raised, her eyes scanning the darkness just as frequently as the scroll Jaune was using flashed the cave.

The interior of the cave was humid and musty. There was the faint smell of smoke and rotting meat. As they moved deeper and deeper, their steps were occasionally loudened by the rattling of strange things Pyrrha certainly hoped weren't bones. "Here, got it!" Jaune yelped out, just as his scroll beeped twice and powered off. He'd not charged in the night before. Now, they were plunged into darkness - save for the glowing, golden teardrop radiating a bright light from the heart of the darkness. "I'll go get the relic, if you wouldn't mind turning a light on for me?"

Something was definitely wrong, but Jaune pressed on, grunting as he clambered over something. "These rocks are really slippery..." He complained, before leaping up to grab the golden, pointed teardrop. He tugged it a few times, but it was as if the relic was attached to something slippery and hard, giving just enough to permit the tug, but too firm to yank the object free. "What, do I need to cut it loose?"

"Hold on. I almost have the light." Pyrrha said, fussing with her scroll. She was a bit slow with it, not wanting to set Milo down as she worked. "Aha! There." She shined the light forward towards Jaune, only to recoil and gasp sharply. "Jaune... Whatever you do... don't move..."

The dull, amber light shined across white bone, marked with natural red accents. Six orange eyes, blazing like embers, flickered to life, the scythe-like mandibles at its front stirring as the creature woke up. It shifted again, lifting what was evidently its bony tail up, picking Jaune up with him. "What the..." He managed, before looking down to see the visage that Pyrrha was illuminating. "Oh... Oh Gods! OH GODS! HELP ME, PYRRHA!"

Well, there was that death stalker Pyrrha had bargained destiny with in her confrontation with Weiss. As Pyrrha turned on her heel to begin her running retreat, the death stalker content to chase her while Jaune dangled, she marveled silently at how fickle destiny could truly be...

Chapter Text

Glynda Goodwitch reviewed the video feed on her scroll, noting that two students had gone far from the typical path most tended to wander towards, and two more had wandered into a cave that she certainly did not remember being there this time last year, but had done so in a way that heavily suggested that they were also trying to head east, however poorly. She pushed her glasses up, letting out a frustrated sigh as she turned towards Headmaster Ozpin. "Sir, it looks like the Eastern Temple Rumor has spread. Again." It was a proper noun at this point. Each year, for the past nine, some vague rumor had passed through the applicants of a reliquary east of the landing site. Each year, at least a few tried for it, and they usually ended up severely hurt, or worse. "Should I alert Medical?" Maybe, with a head start, the bullhead transport might get there in time to stop anyone from being hurt too badly.

"Which applicants took the bait this year?" Ozpin asked, staring down towards the forest with a focused, intense gaze. He lifted a mug to his lips, slowly drinking his coffee. He was tall, and awfully strong in the shoulders for an elderly man. And yet, the fire behind his eyes was practically immortal. His black suit filled out nicely, telling of a seasoned huntsman every bit worth his title as Headmaster.

"Lie Ren and Nora Valkyrie of Serenity Academy were the first." She pressed a few buttons on her scroll, projecting it for Ozpin to see the images. It displayed a feed of Ren and Nora proceeding east, the former quiet and careful, the latter all but skipping. "Originally, Pyrrha Nikos of Sanctum Academy looked like she was going to head north, but she then rescued Jaune Arc, the student with all the supposed field experience, from a failed landing. At first, she led them east, but then, Mister Arc took the lead and drew them around in circles." She pulled up a timelapse of an overhead view of the forest, with a red dot and blue dot leaving a circular, spinning line, showing the recorded paths of Pyrrha and Jaune. "I've been meaning to talk to you about him, actually. For a person of his supposed experience, he is sorely lacking in pretty much any capable skills of field navigation. If a fight breaks out, I worry he could be seriously harmed - or could bring those around him to harm."

At first, it seemed like Ozpin had ignored the middle-aged huntress who served as his trusted right hand. Until slowly, he raised his coffee for another sip. "...Interesting." His mind worked like a series of gears spinning about a fulcrum, snapping and whirring into place. Ozpin was practically as old as the world itself, and in his many, many eons, he had seen nearly every trick there was. Jaune Arc was not the first to attempt to forge his way into Beacon. That was the whole point of this style orientation that he had standardized across the four academies. If something went wrong, it severely limited the amount of personal damage an inexperienced huntsman could inflict upon those around him. But when he had checked on Jaune Arc's record, he hat noted his academics were near flawless - it was combat where he struggled, but never without great effort. And so, he had passed him through, allowing the young man to believe his forgery had worked. He wondered what kind of man the son of Jules Arc, one of his most trusted friends and a close member of his secret order, was capable of becoming. Would he confess his lie? Would he yet rise to the occasion? Was there a leader hidden within?

Then, there was the woman traveling with him. Pyrrha Nikos, who had grown up in poverty, who had lost her father to a terrible mining accident at a tragically young age. He had watched her televised duels, and had taken note how she fought on through sickness, or during her transition treatments and therapy, or even once through a broken arm that, while he was certain nobody suspected anything, he had observed it had never quite healed properly. She fought on through it all, as if afraid of what might happen if she didn't keep pushing. Of course, he knew that her surviving family likely depended on her financial support. It was why he had made sure to offer more than the girl would need for attendance. Perhaps even enough to move her mother to Vale. He wondered what motivations she would have when her finances were in order. Would the champion remain in the battle, or would she hang her shield and retire? Or, even more, would she feel freed to climb to new heights? He suspected the the opportunity would enable her meteoric rise - he suspected she would be perfect for Project Amber.

Finally, the curious pair of Lie Ren and Nora Valkyrie. Nora's family had first crossed his desk some fifteen years ago, when a report of a political purge in Mistral had reached him. The young girl had survived her entire clan's eradication at the hands of the White Fang. Then, five years after that, her and Lie Ren, a far more quiet and otherwise unremarkable student, lost their whole village to a fabled and deadly grimm that had never been observed before. They had been the only survivors. They always seemed to be a package deal after that. What interested Ozpin in the pair was, admittedly, Lie Ren. A stoic young man who carried himself lightly, kept his mind measured, and tended to those around him with care and compassion. Multiple times in his academic career, he had been marked as stopping fights. Not by bludgeoning his way to a mutual stand-down of the opposing people, but simply by talking them back to reason. By stepping up as a mediator. For one of his youth, Lie Ren was a remarkably personable young man. Ozpin's own body was beginning to age out of its usefulness. He suspected reincarnation may soon lap around again. And yet, at this late hour, he knew that the machinations of his timeless enemy were drawing to their endgame. In short, he needed somebody like Lie Ren, perhaps more than all three of the others.

And, as he had predicted, all four were on the path east.

"Miss Goodwitch, do you know why I began to circulate the Eastern Temple Rumor?"

"Sir?" Glynda snapped her piercing, surprised gaze towards him in an instant. "You started the rumor? Why?"

Ozpin chuckled. Glynda was perceptive indeed, far beyond compare. He remembered when she had been his candidate for Project Amber, but alas, she was too useful in her present capacity. It struck him unfair that the things that would have made her perfect for the role were the same reasons he needed her at his side, not as a tool in his arsenal. Not as a Maiden. "Because, it takes a special type of person to act on rumor and hearsay. Inquisitiveness. More than simple gullibility, though often mistaken for it, it shows a measure of curiosity than can only be quenched by investigation. It is certainly dangerous at times. But that deters yet more, either through dissuasion or... other, unfortunate means. However, I have need for students who can hear the rumor, investigate it, and come out on top when the situation goes sideways. Think of it this way... What I am looking for is the difference between a student who wants to know why a clock ticks, what gears spin within, what weights pull the winches and what bearings keep it all running, compared to a student who is content to know simply that the clock just ticks."

"You're recruiting." Glynda said with wide eyes. She realized he was making the once in a generation expansion to his inner circle. These weren't the first students Ozpin had done this with. She remembered her friends in team Stark. She was fascinated, as Ozpin usually left her in moments like this, but she was also equal parts mortified. Students had died heading to this rumored temple. It had always been tragic, but to know he had, behind the scenes, pressed on with this strange test...

"The hour draws late. The Queen is in play." Ozpin let out a sad sigh. It was sad to lose lives, of course. But when one fought a war as timeless as his, the sting of casualties began to dull when compared to the weight of what they stood to lose if she won... "Do not alert Medical. I wish to see how this carries out." After all, this may be his last chance before his eternal adversary makes her move. Glynda submitted to his judgement, turning her gaze back to her tablet. With a few scrolls, she found the feed of the cave that Jaune and Pyrrha had entered, only to blink in surprise when Miss Nikos came sprinting out at full speed, sparing only a short pause to turn around and snap off a few shots from Milo.

Barreling out after her was an aged death stalker, one that gave even Glynda a sense of pause. Dangling from its tail and screaming so loudly that Glynda could actually hear him in the distance was Jaune Arc. "Sir, there's a death stalker in the forest. Classification..." She waited as her various drones high above the forest scanned the creature. "It's a major, sir. It has Mister Arc in its snares and is pursuing Miss Nikos. Shall I alert Medical?" She pushed for intervention again. She feared she was about to watch one, or both, of them die. Ozpin simply shook his head, watching the tree line as a flock of birds ascended with chirps and caws.

No, he wanted to see how this played out...

"It's not the relic, Pyrrha! It's not!" Jaune screamed, flailing his legs as the death stalker gave chase towards Pyrrha. Every time she turned to fire, he would yelp and lift his legs up, afraid she might hit him. As they ran, Pyrrha swept into a wide left turn, and Jaune saw why. Stones, in a path. They'd found an ancient stone road that, unknown to Jaune due to his terrible sense of navigation, was running east-to-west. Pyrrha, having chosen east, took to a full sprint. She did not stop to shoot, instead pushing herself to run harder than she'd ever run before. She trusted Jaune to hold on. Well, she told herself she trusted him. In reality, she had no choice but to let him dangle on the beast because if he fell, there was quite possibly nothing she could do for him. She'd never fought a grimm like this before, and judging by the moss growths and faded white of its intricate bone plating, it was practically ancient. She aimed to lead it to this fabled 'east temple' that Jaune had told her about, where they might be able to wait the monster out with enough meditation.

Miraculously, the stone pillars and concealed, ancient dome of a temple - a real one, not some cave - was coming closer and closer into view. She just had to make it there. "Pyrrha! Watch out!" Jaune called. She spared a quick glance over her shoulder, seeing that the creature had managed to get close enough to take a sweep at her with its inky, black claw. She effortlessly launched herself into the air, rolling over the grey, bony plating of the sweeping claw, but lost nearly all of her forward momentum on the landing. The monster punched down at her with its tail, shaking Jaune free in the progress. He landed with a bounce and a roll as Pyrrha lunged to the opposite direction, dodging the tail. She whistled sharply, before striking the stones by her boots with Milo to generate noise and flashing sparks. "What are you doing?!?"

"I'll draw his focus!" She yelled out, rolling to the side of the scorpion's next strike. Jaune realized the implications. She was preparing him for a strike at the creature's back. His eyes shook with terror. He was really doing this. He was fighting a death stalker of advanced age. "Jaune! Now!" He had never managed to so much as win a spar, but if he didn't find a way to deliver, and soon, he and Pyrrha were as good as dead. "Jaune! Snap out of it! Hurry!" He continued to stand, frozen in inaction, when he heard the crackling of rapid gunfire. He turned to see the soft-spoken boy that Nora had been with the night before, charging in at high speed, peppering the death stalker with gunfire from a pair of emerald machine pistols that extended low into scythe-like daggers. His long, green tailcoat flowing in the breeze behind him as he ran, but an awfully stoic look on his face.

"Wahoo!" He then heard, as from high above, the faunus girl Nora descended with her white and pink dress flapping wide, her hammer primed downwards for the death stalker's head. She connected with the bony plate between the eyes of the large grimm, cracking it slightly, all the while staggering the death stalker. In the moment of respite, Jaune turned his attention to the temple, considering their chance to escape. Grimm weren't known to have a central nervous system that could be easily struck, the way one shot an alligator at the base of its skull for a quick kill. The staggering was temporary, and more from kinetic energy exchange than a concussive injury. Not to mention that Pyrrha was flushed red and huffing, her shield held high, but her arms notably trembling with fatigue. No, they couldn't outrun it to the temple. They needed to handle it on the road. But the damned thing had armor plating over nearly every important joint. Except...

As the death stalker focused its swinging and tail stabbing at the ones who had proven to actually be fighting back, he took note of its black, spindly legs. Black, glistening, and unarmored. Her gasped, then came up with an idea. Pyrrha was still parrying claw swipes with her shield, and Nora was capable enough with her hammer to knock the tail away when it came flying in. He then remembered the quiet boy, Ren, and his speed on approach. The two of them were the fastest at this moment. Jaune drew forth his father's blade, Crocea Mors, and his legendary shield, flapping his sword arm to wave Ren down. When Ren looked his way, Jaune called out. "The legs! Go for the legs!" Acting on his own order, Jaune ran in, acting on instinct. He found four on his side, the death stalker having all but ignored him. With wild and furious, if not undisciplined, swipes and hacking swings, he sliced his way through a pair of the legs. Moving with much more fluid grace, Ren closed the distance, sliding just to the left of Pyrrha and beneath another incoming claw, barely hearing the crunch of chitin on bronze as Pyrrha deflected it with a grunt. He hefted his pistols up, using the blades beaneath the barrels of StormFlower to swing him forward, keeping his momentum going against the rough and uneven stone floor. As he passed under the claw, he pushed up from his knee, landing on his feet. Quickly, he set to work hacking at the exposed legs just as Jaune had suggested.

The death stalker tried to retreat, but the sudden loss of four of its eight legs in uneven distribution brough the creature onto its belly, helplessly flailing its remaining limbs. "Pyrrha! The tail!" Jaune cried out, his wide, blue eyes focused on the tail as it swept downwards at his friend. Pyrrha vaulted back, before using no small part of what remained of her strength to send her shield, Akouo, flying to intercept the tail. It landed with a loud crack and such force that it sent the tail whipping back. Acting swiftly, she hefted Milo in her right hand, holding her left thumb up to aim. Then, with a running start, she launched the javelin towards the scorpion's mighty tail. It impacted and pierced through the bony plate just shy of the joint, before ripping the tail all the way back, embedding it into the stone road. "Nora! It's down! Finish it! Go for the middle dot between its eyes, right where you hit it before!" Jaune was grinning madly. They were actually doing it. The plan was coming together! He didn't care if it was because his new friends were genuinely that skilled, or the grimm had been severely weakened by decades without a good meal, they were actually winning!

"Got it!" Nora took up Magnhild with renewed vigor, vaulting up into the trees that ran the length of the road. She went higher and higher, before lunging from the top branch in a spinning wheel of death, yelling and laughing all the while. She brought the head of her hammer down onto the exact cracked webbings of her first blow with an accuracy that, honestly, surprised Jaune given her wild personality in a fight. At the last second, she'd squeezed the trigger on Magnhild's grip, a detonation of pink dust, red mist, and bone fragment peppered the surrounding area before the death stalker fell limp one last time. Its eyes faded dull and grey, its claws fell limp, and it slowly began to wilt into fuming, inky black vapors.

The four young adults stared at the scene before them in disbelief. They'd actually done it. They'd managed to slay an elder grimm. It had taken nearly everything they had, but the four had pulled it off. Jaune was the first to move, collecting Pyrrha's shield. He made an attempt at her spear, but found it well and thoroughly lodged in, unmovable with his own strength. "Allow me." She said with a tired pant of breath, but light and happy voice. Effortlessly, she pulled it from the road, before holding her wrist out for her shield. Jaune nodded, clipping it her bronze armband at a pair of small divots. Odd, the small clips on the guard seemed hardly secure enough to hold it in place given the high mobility of Pyrrha's fighting style, but it obviously worked. He'd seen it himself.

Ren was the first to properly speak up. "This is an exceptional moment for each of us. Our first victory as students. We should savor the moment, if briefly--"

"First of MANY! Did you see me? I was like, all the way up that tree, and spinning down like a bottle top! I crushed that big bastard's head WIIIIIIIIDE open!" Nora proclaimed, suddenly filled with energy and excitement as she shouted through her retelling of the story. "It was so AWESOME! I'M so awesome!" She declared, laughing hysterically. Ren opened his mouth to give his trademark 'Nora...' and correct her, but when his eyes fell upon the mirthful expressions of their new friends as they watched Nora's antics, he allowed her to have this. Just this once.

"You did an amazing job, Jaune." Pyrrha offered when Nora finished her dramatization, clapping a hand to his shoulder after tucking Milo away. Given his other shortcomings, Pyrrha was not surprised to see that he was obviously not the best combatant of the four. Or, that he had frozen in the middle of the fight. However, when he shook the shock off and came to, he had displayed a remarkable awareness of the enemy, and had taken charge to coordinate the three of them against it in meaningful and efficient paired attacks. She figured it was better to focus on that than his failings, ever favoring positive reinforcement.

"Well..." He blushed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed as the focus fell upon him.

"She isn't lying." Ren added reassuringly, sensing Jaune's apprehension. "Few amateur huntsmen ever see a death stalker, let alone one of major classification. We all rose to the occasion, and are worthy of recognition for the task. However... We are all tired, and we should probably consider retrieving our relics and retiring to the cliffs south of here before more grimm arrive. I doubt this was the only one in the woods."

"We can take 'em! Let me at 'em, Ren, let me at 'em, because Mama's in her heaven and all is right in her world!" Nora cackled, hefting Magnhild high overhead, her ears splayed wide to further convey her insane excitement.

Alright. That was enough. "Nora." He said, his voice stern as he reigned her in.

"Oh! Right, sorry Ren!"

As Glynda watched through the feed from the overhead drone, she was stunned to silence. Four applicants had taken out a large and ancient death stalker, working fluidly as a team in the process, largely because of the leadership exhibited by the one she had admittedly had the least amount of measured faith in. She turned towards Ozpin, who for the first time in many years, was smiling. His hunch had been right, and he had found the type of students he was looking for. He was certain the other eight would yet prove themselves in their own way, but for now, he had his first team. He pulled forth his own tablet, beginning to take notes. Notes that he observed and carefully amended as the day went on, even when the twelve returned and the skybus took them back to the campus. Finally, he was satisfied a few hours later, just before walking on stage to deliver his team announcements to the waiting upper and lower classmen at Beacon Academy, as well as the twelve students who had just finished orientation.

He tapped the microphone on stage in the open auditorium, perched high on a stage. "Students, I am pleased to gather each of you here at the end of another successful orientation. You all showed exceptional courage and cunning during your trial today, and have more than earned acceptance into Beacon Academy. The twelve of you who completed your orientation today will now be formally united as teams. You will retain these comrades through your years at this academy. They will be your most trusted friends, and your fiercest companions." He looked to his scroll, reading out the first four names. "Ruby Rose, Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna, Yang Xiao Long, please step forward." As the four girls stepped onto the stage, they were met with a wide array of reactions. Pyrrha and Weiss stared at each other, defiant and bitter, as if planning to launch at one another in a moment's notice. Blake seemed to notice the hateful glare in Nora's eyes while she had been fishing for Ren's gaze, her expression wilting. She recognized Nora at once, the sole survivor of the Valkyrie Purge. While it had been before her time in the White Fang - toddlers tended not to run with revolutionary groups - she knew that Nora projected all of that hate onto her, if only for her who her own father was. She didn't need to guess why the peach-haired fox faunus hated her so thoroughly. She could only hope that Nora would show enough mercy to not out her as a faunus, or as a former Fang member. Yang seemed to notice this silent exchange, cautiously placing a worried hand on Blake's shoulder, whispering some sort of reassurance to her that seemed to lift her spirits back. Meanwhile, Jaune and Ruby were exchanging proud, overly-energetic waves with one another, the two friends happy to know that, despite their own feelings of inadequacy, they had risen to the occasion.

"You four have retrieved the white knight pieces. From this day forward, you will be known as Team Ruby." The first letters of their names, as well as their photographs, arranged on a large screen above the stage, into order, projecting the four-letter abbreviation 'RWBY'. "You will be led by Miss Ruby Rose. Congratulations, young lady." Excitement rippled through three of the four girls. Pyrrha seemed to take more than her share of delight as Weiss looked around indignantly, denied her chance at leadership. As the four cleared off, Ozpin continued.

"Cardin Winchester, Russel Thrush, Dove Bronzewing, Sky Lark, please come forward." A taller young man with peaked brown hair and ornate, steel-grey armor stepped forward, leading a pack of people who looked to be considerably lightly armored by comparison. Of course, Jaune noted as he watched, that would be typical for the Winchester family. They loved to overspend and overproject. He tried to keep the bitter look of resentment off his face, but he simply couldn't. The Arc-Winchester rivalry ran too deep. Many of his ancestors, and Cardin's, had died over the feud. He knew that here, in Beacon, he would be in constant competition with Cardin. What's worse was that Cardin actually seemed to hold himself like a capable fighter. When his eyes fell upon Jaune, and a smirk came across his face, he knew in that instant that Cardin had identified him, too, and had seen the mental work Jaune was putting in. He had weighed him in turn, and found him to be a poor comparison. "The four of you retrieved the black bishop pieces. From here on, you will be known as Team Cardinal, led by Mister Cardin Winchester. Congratulations." Ozpin smiled fondly as the four stood at parade rest, like an ordered unit of soldiers. Without pomp or circumstance, Cardin exchanged a handshake with Ozpin, stole one last glare at Jaune, and led his team off stage.

"Last but not least. Jaune Arc, Nora Valkyrie, Pyrrha Nikos, Lie Ren, please come to the stage." The four of them came as called. After staring Cardin down, Jaune felt the joy of the moment leaving him with every heavy step. He felt the pit twisting and gnawing in his stomach. If Cardin Winchester was here, then he knew the man would stop at nothing to see him thoroughly crushed. There was no low the Winchester family wouldn't stoop to. He barely heard Ozpin speak up. "The four of you retrieved the white rook pieces. You will be arranged into Team Juniper." Jaune barely had time to look back up at Ozpin, a weight of concern in his eyes. Ozpin smiled at him, seeing the shaking resolve of the young man. And yet, he spoke on. "Led by Mister Jaune Arc. Congratulations, young man. You've earned it." He hoped the platitude would steel his nerves.

"M-Me..?" He asked, sputtering in response. The noise of the world faded away, replaced only with a dull ringing in his ears. Ozpin looked momentarily worried that the young man might faint, but fortunately, his teammate Pyrrha placed a steadying hand on his shoulder, nervously trying to smile away the awkward display.

Nora jumped up and down a few times, pumping her arms as she did. Her ears pinned back as she jumped at Ren, who nearly fell over from the sudden weight. He looked at her with a stern face that asked her seriousness on the matter, but ultimately relented and returned the hug. Meanwhile, Pyrrha glanced over towards Jaune, smiling as she threw a playful punch at his shoulder. She gasped as, in the midst of the cheering from the crowd, she accidentally knocked the weak, distracted man to the floor. Instantly, she hurried over, fussing over him. "Sorry! I'm so sorry!" She sputtered out, bringing him back to his feet.

As the four cleared out, Jaune Arc was stopped by Ruby, who came running up to him as he was leaving through the hallway. "Everyone's talking about you guys! Is it true you took on a legion of death stalkers and a whole wing of nevermores all by yourself?!?" Ruby asked, childlike delight in her young, silver eyes.

"Uh... no?" Jaune asked, wincing as his shoulders sagged. "We took on a single death stalker, and it took everything we had to--"

"I know! I'm just messin' with ya, Jaune!" Ruby wheeled up to throw a playful punch.

"Gods, not again!" He recoiled, bracing against the impact. Ruby then remembered his on-stage fall at the hands of his teammate's mighty fist.

"Ooohhh... sorry!" She chuckled. "But hey, we did it! We completed orientation! We're leaders now!" Ruby said, smiling. "I bet that makes you feel a lot better about your doubts, doesn't it?" She asked, innocently.

"Yeah... Not really. I still can hardly believe it, but here we are." His worried expression lifted to a facade of joy as he addressed Ruby. "And hey, you're leading a team, too! One literally named after you! No pressure, right?"

"None at all!" Ruby gave a loud laugh followed by a nervous giggle. He suspected that she, too, was only feeling worse following the announcements of their leadership, but was much better at the 'uplifting facade' bit than Jaune. Likely, she'd approached him in hopes that he would, unlike her, be overjoyed at the announcement and she might feed off of that to boost herself. Oh well. He'd just add it to the list of many things he'd want his team to teach him.

"Oh, no pressure. I'm not sure about you, pipsqueak, but Jauney boy here? Obviously a natural-born leader." A booming voice carried from behind them. Ruby sidestepped Jaune, who turned around to face the crossed arms and barreled chest of a looming large Cardin Winchester. "You know, I thought I recognized you on the flight in. But now? Yeah, there's no doubt. You look just like your father." To most, such words were a complement. Yet Cardin said it with the way somebody might identify a target to an assassin.

"I fight like him, too." Jaune bristled back, trying to stand firm. He wasn't confident in that assessment. At all. However, his hatred for the Winchester family, paired with Ruby's proximity, allowed him to dig his heels in and stand tall. After all, he was a leader now, wasn't he? He couldn't afford to cower away, no matter how intimidated he was.

"Is that so? Well, I did hear about the death stalker incident." Cardin said, casually looking away, faking wonder at the story. "It's not every day an Arc and his circus troop pull something like that off. I mean, you must have been pulling all the weight, right? Between the faunus," he almost spat the word out, "The immigrant... Oh! And the transvestite? What a bad roll of the dice on teammates, Jauney boy... That really sucks." seriously, was there any group besides 'traditional Vale human' this guy didn't hate? Jaune tried to ignore the insults to his team, clearly said just to dig under his skin. However, he was radiating fury, only leading Cardin to press on. "You must have really had to step up to keep them alive. Really, I'm impressed."

"My team is plenty capable." Jaune bowed up, his fists clenching at his side. "We handled a grimm major while you were wandering around lost in the woods." Unlike before, when Ruby had tried to hold him back, she stood firmly behind her friend. "If you'd like a demonstration of what Team Juniper can do, we'd be more than happy to show you. Maybe then you can address my teammates by name, and not by insult."

"Oh-ho, Jauney boy... I'd love that. Really." Cardin's sharklike smile widened as he leaned in. "I'd love nothing more. Honest-to-the-gods. Don't make me wait too long on that promise..." He continued on his way, practically shoving Jaune over as he left. Jaune turned to watch him go, a furious look on his face. He couldn't wait to put Cardin in his place. Even if he couldn't he had faith that his team could.

Chapter Text

"Four oh three... Four oh five... Four oh seven... What the?" Jaune asked, as he counted dorm numbers and proceeded down the hallway. Juniper had been assigned room 409, a room that he was surprised to see wide open and filled with the sounds of moving furniture. Given the encounter he'd just had with Cardin moments ago, the one that involved personal attacks levied towards every member of his team, Jaune's mind began to whirl in a feverish spin. Surely to the gods, he wouldn't be so brash as to begin his assault on Juniper so quickly out of the gate...

Jaune reached for Crocea Mors, storming forward. If Cardin Winchester thought he could physically harass his team, Jaune was going to confront him directly and put an end to it, here or now. For a moment, he'd even convinced himself that he was actually capable of besting Cardin, forgetting all about the self-appraised gap in his and Cardin's skill levels. He rounded the corner at the doorframe, gripping his sword tightly. "Alright, just what in the hell do you think you're... doing?" Where he had expected to see Cardin and his team trashing their room, he was surprised to find Juniper had been doing well enough on their own to complete that objective. The beds had been pushed head-to-head and into a corner of the room. Two simple wooden work desks sat in the middle of the room, with a bookcase on either end of the combined... assembly. There had evidently been a brown, circular carpet, but it was rolled up and sticking halfway out of the bathroom door- and Jaune didn't even want to think about why the curtain rod was in the floor by the door heading in, its curtains crumpled around it.

Nora was the first to notice Jaune enter, her wolf ears poking up. "Oh! Boss! Welcome back! We've been working so hard! we were wondering where you went ya' big slacker!" She chirped out merrily, waving her right hand excitedly. While she seemed very pleased with herself, Ren stood in the corner of the room where the carpet had been thrown, looking like he was doing everything in his power not to blow sky-high at the layout of the room, a silent stance that Jaune agreed with the more he stared at this typhoon recovery site that was their dorm.

"Nora... why are the beds in the corner?" Jaune asked warily.

"Shh, duh! Because that way we have more space to train!" She replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Then why are the desks in the middle of the room? With bookcases?" he moved to the next thing, but Nora was just as swift in her retort.

"So two of us can do our homework together!"

"Why not all four?" Jaune inquired, when Ren spoke up.

He sounded tired. So very, impossibly tired. "We had four, but Nora sold them to Yang across the hall for cafeteria provision slips." He lifted his hands, using his fingers to make quotation marks. "Double the rations, double the fuel, double the victory..." He rolled his eyes. He tried not to get mad at Nora, but clearly, the room situation was pushing him to, near, or possibly beyond the limits of his practiced patience.

"Nora... the cafeteria food is free. You can take however much you want." Jaune stared at Nora with a confused, if not slightly concerned expression. Nora stared back at him for a moment. Her left ear flicked once, then twice. Then, both ears swiveled and pinned back, as a furious look crossed her face.

"That bitch!" She yelled in a singsong, but no less agitated voice. She stormed up to and past Jaune, nearly flinging him out of the way as she marched across the hall, beating on Team Ruby's door. "Hey! HEY! GIMME BACK OUR DESKS YOU BUNCH OF BANDITS!!!"

"Why would they even need six desks?" Jaune asked Ren, who immediately pressed both of his hands to his face.

"Jaune, Mistrali wisdom warns about the dangers of prescribing logic where none exists to be found..."

"Hey, easy, Ren..." Jaune tried, slowly stepping up to him with his hands patting placatingly at the air. "We can fix this, no sweat. I'm not quite able to move entire beds with their box springs and mattresses by myself... Oh! Pyrrha! Where's Pyrrha?" He asked, looking around, suddenly realizing the distinct absence of his friend who could likely single-handedly undo what Nora had done to the layout of the room.

"Her scroll lit up not long after we arrived. She left in a hurry." Ren explained, a look of worry crossing his face, finally settling on something more worthwhile of his time than fussing over the disaster that was the Junpier dorm room. It was then that his worried gaze appraised Jaune properly, noticing his sword was drawn. "Jaune? What were you expecting to find in here?"

"An ursa!" Jaune yipped out quickly, stuffing Crocea Mors back into his hilt. Cardin's words had no venom to him specifically beyond the hate they carried for his team, but Jaune knew that the words spoken would likely mean much more to those affected directly. He didn't want to ruin his team's day by sharing what Cardin had said, or sharing that he was so certain of Cardin being a problem that he had arrived ready to throw down. When Ren snickered, Jaune gave into the laugh, and the two approached one another sharing fits of light laughter. It had turned the awkward exchange into a genuine bit of connection between the two.

That was the moment Pyrrha rounded the corner. She carried herself high, with a practiced and passive smile - the sort you use when you're delivering a school presentation you didn't help on in the least, but you want to look just proud enough to not be directly challenged by your peers with speculative questions about the work for fear that you'll never shut up. Her hands were before the front of her burgundy sash, fidgeting around her closed scroll. "I see we've all been very busy." She offered, an unsteady tone in her otherwise light voice.

Jaune stared at her for a moment, trading a look with Ren. Ren looked to be equally confused by the odd display. Luckily, he spoke up on behalf of Jaune. "Pyrrha? Is everything alright?"

"Just splendid!" She chirped too quickly and too forced for it to be natural. "Just a... lovely call from my Aunt Beatrice!" She pumped her right arm, still clutching the scroll. "It's always a delight to hear from family!" Ren stared at her. Despite his more quiet nature, he was adept at reading people and their auras - not the barrier that served as a protective projection of their souls, but the essence of their mood and personality. The invisible energy radiating off of a person that you can feel, and then understand the general summary of their emotions. To Ren, Pyrrha looked like a storm cloud billowing over and spilling before the crackles of lightning and heavy rain began.

"That's... good to hear." He said, deciding now was not the time to press. They'd all only met earlier that day. If Pyrrha didn't wish to share, it was frankly not their business. "If you ever desire to share your family stories with us, I am certain we'd all be delighted to hear them." He made sure to leave the door open, indicating that while he respected the Invincible Girl enough not to pry, he didn't want to dissuade her from opening up when she wanted to, or was otherwise ready.

Jaune sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Right... so... this room is an absolute disaster. We need to fix this before Nora gets back. Do you two want to lend me a hand or two?" He winced. He worried it might seem cold that he opted not engage with Pyrrha and her obvious personal dilemma, but changing the subject had worked quite well with her in the locker room. He hoped it wasn't a one-off thing, and that his new friend's mind simply worked better to pick itself up when work was to be done.

When Pyrrha stepped inside, Ren spoke up. "Lock it." It was firmer than the man had expected it to sound, but carried the stress of his mood towards the room. Pyrrha complied, looking at him with an incredulous gaze. "I just... want to make sure we can accomplish the renovations before Nora gets back." With the door secure, the three swiftly set to work, putting the room back as it was. Jaune and Pyrrha moved the beds back to their original places against the far wall of the room, while Ren walked through, arranging the smaller elements with a careful and methodical precision. He had no issues moving the empty, two-shelf bookcases back against the window, or scooting the tables across the hardwood floor back to a place against the walls by the door. Jaune worked to roll the circular carpet out on the now, much more open middle of the room, while Pyrrha climbed atop the bookcases Ren had moved to remount the curtain rod. When finished, the three stepped back, admiring their quick handiwork. "It's exactly how we found it." Ren noted with a breath of relief.

"Hm... well, what if we keep it this way? It makes the most sense." Pyrrha offered, glancing over to Ren with crossed arms.

"Yeah, I'm with Pyrrha. This layout keeps more of an open concept vibe to the room. If we wanted, we could probably find a few potted plants in town to fill out the look." Jaune shrugged his shoulders, otherwise pleased with the display.

It was in that moment of quiet that the trio noticed the hallway had gone awfully quiet. Ren was first in motion, quickly unlocking the door, sliding it open while poking his head out. "Nora?" He asked, looking up and down the hall. Immediately, guilt filled his mind, racing down to the core of his soul. He mentally berated himself. Her first day here, and he had locked her out of their dorm. Jaune and Pyrrha stepped out into the hall with him, equally confused about where the loud, energetic girl had gone. A new look of sudden realization crossed Ren's face. Team Ruby had been assigned Blake Belladonna, a girl that Nora had seemed to want to puck her hammer through the last time the name had come up. While Ren had started the beginnings of an easy friendship with the girl, Nora had warned him not to trust her. While he didn't immediately suspect some level of foul play, he did begin to believe that maybe she had picked a fight - one waged over matters besides duped desks. He crossed the hall, giving three gentle, but firm knocks on Team Ruby's door.

Yang was the one to open, the blonde girl half-dressed in her Beacon uniform, in the process of messing with her hair and her brush. "Juniper. What do you want this time?" She didn't sound very happy, her violet eyes bouncing harshly between the three. This only made Ren's gut twist worse.

"We were hoping you could tell us where Nora was. She last came over here--" Ren had started, but Yang interrupted immediately to finish.

"Yeah, yeah, came over here beating down our fucking door and threatening us for the desks I pranked her out of, then went totally ballistic on my teammate in the bathroom? Yeah, sorry, I can't help with that. That girl is completely unglued." Yang went to close the door, but Ren jammed his foot in, wincing as his black boot wasn't made of firm enough leather to keep the action from hurting him when the door found his foot.

"Please. We're worried about her..." He hissed out, trying not to focus on his newly-hurt foot.

Yang relented, opening the door enough to give him space to withdraw the limb. She took a deep breath and removed herself from the situation. Emotionally, she wanted to step up and defend her teammate, but she realized she was hardly one to judge for an escalating temper. "Sorry. I really didn't see where either of them went. I'd help if I could."

Ren sighed through his teeth, running a hand through his black hair. He then stiffened his posture, bowing before Yang, speaking in a contrite tone. "Please excuse her. She mentioned something in the woods about knowing Blake, and again at orientation, she seemed unhappy with her. This is quite far out of character for her. I should have been a better friend and addressed this sooner."

"You sound like you know her pretty well." Yang said, offering Ren a sympathetic look. When he nodded, she huffed a sigh. "...Alright. No harm, no foul. Water under the bridge. I'll talk to Blake about it, and... we'll let it slide. This time." She gave a wink and a smile, agreeing not to call off her budding friendship with Nora.

"You're very gracious." Ren said, clasping his hands together in an expression of gratitude.

"Come on," Pyrrha gestured down the hall. "Beacon isn't that large campus. I'm certain that we can find them swiftly enough."

"Yeah! And it's not like Nora's particularly quiet or stealthy." Jaune gently clapped a hand onto Ren's back, guiding him away from Team Ruby's door. "Thanks, uh..."

"Yang!" She offered with a wave, closing her door.

The three swiftly took the stairs down from the upper floor of the dormitory, checking the common room and the foyer on the first floor. When they found nothing, they expanded their search. However, it ended shortly there after. Out on the vast, concrete courtyard before the dorms, surrounded by stone arches and complete with a statue of a rising flame in the middle of a water feature that circled the length of the space, sat Nora on a bench. She looked dejected and beaten, her eyes puffy with fresh tears. The three crossed the space of the courtyard quickly, with Ren kneeling in front of her, taking her hands in his own. "Nora, what happened?" He asked softly.

"I told her what I thought of her." She said, looking up with her ears pinned in place behind her head. Her cheery voice was gone, her bubbly mood scattered to the four winds. She didn't give any specific details. How could Nora explain that she'd lambasted Blake for her involvement with the Fang? That she'd yelled as whispery as she could at the girl for her father's orders that saw her own family purged? There were certain things a faunus couldn't share with humans, that had been the theme that set the tone of her life. She wanted to tell them everything, but in equal parts could not. She knew the price that was expected for invoking the name of the Fang around humans, no matter how dearly she didn't want to come off as crazy. But as her teammates stood around her in a varied state of concern, she spoke up, offering what little she could. "She didn't fight back. She just... took it. And, and I didn't know what to do with that..." She admitted, crumbling into herself with shaking shoulders. "I waited years... I always wondered what I'd say... how good it'd feel to just tell a Belladonna what I thought of them..." Ren pulled her into a tight hug. Pyrrha lowered beside her, gently wrapping an arm around the faunus. Jaune joined on the other side, pulling his team between his arms in a tight embrace. Quiet overtook their space in the courtyard as the world fell away from Juniper, only interrupted by Nora's muffled weeping. A day ago, they'd been strangers - well, excepting Nora and Ren. Now, however, they were teammates, and falling quickly into the role. A part of Jaune was proud that they were already here in their relationship, that they could be there for a friend so obviously in need of support. But then, they had killed a large grimm together. That counted for something. When Nora was done crying a few moments later, the team afforded her some space, but did not leave her.

"You know..." Jaune began, looking between the group, then back to Nora. "You don't have to go through it alone. Whatever happened between you two, that is. We're a team now, right? We can help each other burden our loads..." He tried, doing his best to be the speaker his father probably could have been in situations just like this. Nora stared up at him with quivering teal eyes, before her ears snapped straight up and she split into howling laughter, slapping her knee. Ren looked away, his eyes twinkling as he also began to laugh. "What?" Jaune looked over to Pyrrha, who was quietly giggling into her right hand.

"I'm sorry, Jaune... I think you mean 'carry our burdens', or 'shoulder our burdens'... or quite possibly anything else!" She snickered, before it gave way to joyous, whooping laughter. Jaune felt his cheeks blush with embarrassment, having fumbled his first big effort to be a big, motivational speaker. But his pride didn't remain in the way for long. He had certainly lifted their spirits, however accidentally, and a certain part of him was willing to be the clown in the circus to see it happen.

He joined in with the laughter, swatting his hands at thin air. "Alright, alright! So I'm not the best speaker, alright? Everyone can remember how I made the plan to take down the death stalker still, right?"

"Yeah! You loaded all over its burden!" Nora yelled out, squealing with laughter, which quickly rippled through the rest of his team. His heart soared. He was going to enjoy getting to know each of these people.

"Come on. I think we all need to burden our loads with some dinner." Ren offered with a playful smirk.

"Yeah. Let's go, Team Juniper." Jaune smiled, waiting as the others collected themselves, and the three proceeded, still in their armors from the orientation, towards the campus cafeteria.

Chapter Text

Schnee Estate
Kingdom of Atlas
3 years ago...

Weiss Schnee slowly walked through her home estate, the stark whites and blues droning together in a monotonous, endless stream of doorways, arches and halls. These halls echoed with the sounds of fighting, screaming, drinking, breaking glass and all other manner of terrible sounds to haunt the young mind. Especially now. Her mother's drinking was at an all-time high, her father was reaching the very ends of his patience with her, Winter had just thrown a wrench in the family succession plans by running off to enlist in the Atlesian Military Academy... it couldn't be a worse time to be within the Schnee estates. To top things off, her beloved uncle that she called Uncle Frost, Bora Schnee, had been delayed on his business trip. Uncle Frost had always been so kind to Weiss, doing everything he could to keep her away from the very worst of her parents' fighting and drinking from the time she was a little girl. Right about now, she wished that her Uncle Frost could tell the Argus Labor League to handle things on their own - she really needed her Uncle, one of the two the lights of her life..

As the heiress rounded the corner into her room, all of that faded away. She slid her door shut and locked it gently, knowing that even Klein would not dare push past the lock. She checked the ornate time piece in the stark, frigid white room that she spent the overwhelming majority of her time in. She sighed in relief, realizing that she had not missed what she'd been looking forward to all week. She rushed to her television, messing with the display until it found the sports channel she was looking for, before she carefully walked back to her bed, sitting on the trunk at the foot of the frame. For just a few brief minutes, she could let the world vanish as she watched her role model.

Milo swept through the air, catching the opponent girl off-balance, the shaft knocking her to the left and disarming her net-like weapon. When she kicked high, Akouo was there to meet her, further throwing her off. These were just the qualifiers, and Weiss' role model was only really warming up. Before Weiss was Pyrrha Nikos, wheeling like a ballerina through the arena in a flowing show of glinting bronze and tanned leather. Weiss idolized the girl. The public scandal around her identity, a non-issue in her homeland but a major source of scrutiny in Atlas, made Weiss enamored with her. How could she break so many molds, walk into a setting so brazenly and bravely herself, and then fight at such a high level? If Pyrrha could do it, then maybe Weiss could find her backbone to pursue her dreams as a huntress, to break her own molds and escape the looming legacy of the Schnee family name. Weiss would never admit it to anyone, but the Invincible Girl from Argus was her greatest measure of hope. Winter was a beloved role model, but she was so distant lately that she was almost non-existent as anything more than a list of rules and guidelines to follow. But Pyrrha was her age, and she was free to be whoever she desired. At least, that's what Weiss believed, and perhaps projected a touch too readily upon her. She watched as Pyrrha handily bested her opponent in the first round, with plenty of time to spare. She clapped, giddy to herself to have seen it, sixty-five seconds of a duel taking days of agony from her life, if only by once more proving to Weiss that it could be done. She could be whoever she was meant to be, and it was her choice as to what that meant. One day, Weiss dared to dream, she might actually find Weiss Schnee, whoever she was beyond a name and a broken home. When the post-fight interviews concluded, she switched her television set off, then retrieved her practice rapier from the trunk. She closed her eyes, practiced her footwork, and began to summon her glyphs...

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Beacon Academy
Kingdom of Vale
Present Day...

It had been about a week since JNPR had formed, and while that first day had been so promising, things had only spiraled further and further for Pyrrha. It was a private burden that she alone could bear. That first day, when they'd had to go find Nora, Pyrrha had received a scroll call from her Aunt Beatrice, one of her mother's many 'friends who you call family'. Her mother's condition had begun to dramatically deteriorate, and the scholarship money from Beacon had not cleared the account yet. As per normal, as the word and credit line of the Invincible Girl was good for it, the hospital had not delayed and had begun the series of medical treatments to help stabilize Helen Nikos. Unfortunately, this gave Pyrrha a very limited window to either sort out her financial aid or find a way to come up with around a thousand lien.

First, she'd called around to every local business and sponsor opportunity in Vale she could think of. She had pitched her endorsement until her voice was straining and hoarse, but none had wanted to take her up on it. Apparently, Headmaster Ozpin was very protective against the 'hyper-predatory practices' of advertisers with his students. She imagined that was a blessing for most, but for her, it was quite the inconvenience. With that route closed, she'd gone to the financial department to figure out when her scholarship funding would clear, only to be met with another stone wall. Apparently, the Vale Council was still voting on its budget, with an estimated conclusion sometime next week. She was assured that all her needs would be compensated by Beacon until that time, however, Pyrrha didn't need anything. Her mother needed medical assistance, and she couldn't wait for the Vale Council to bicker over a budget.

She'd called around to cash advance dealers, and had even considered pawning items - until she realized that she didn't draw a check to take a cash advance loan on, and she didn't have anything at Beacon worth pawning. Finally, she had seen notice of an on-campus opportunity. It was the dish pit in the kitchen of the student cafeteria, from eight in the evening until a little after midnight. But, when Pyrrha ran the payment details through her mind, she realized that this job - if she spent not a single lien on herself - would be just enough, and by the deadline she needed it as well. She had practically sprinted there after history class, leaving the rest of her team in the dust. She had spoken to the cafeteria matron, and she had been more than happy to help Pyrrha with the job. She'd told her that one other applicant had applied before her, but that she'd have no problem giving her a position for the week, especially upon hearing why Pyrrha needed it so badly.

And so, ready to start her first shift, eager to get done, do her homework, and maybe sleep before the next day, she slid her uniform jacket off. She wore the standard Beacon uniform, the only modification being a thin, black turtleneck undershirt that went high enough to cover her middle neck. She walked to the back of the kitchen, only to stop dead in her tracks when she saw the other student she'd be working with. Elbows deep in the dish pit, her blouse already slightly wet from the cleaning, her cascading white hair tied back carefully in a ponytail. She turned in Pyrrha's direction with a smile, only to drop the overhead hose and sponge, her expression wilting. "You again. What do you want?"

"I took the job posting here. I want to do my shift, then return to my team." Pyrrha said, doing her best to simply walk past Weiss. She kept her eyes dead ahead, trying not to draw any more of the short girl's ire. She had no idea what had brought out so much hatred from Weiss when they'd first met. If anyone had the right to be furious, it was Pyrrha. The Schnee Dust Company was responsible for the destruction of her hometown of Shale, the death of her father, and the illness that was, piece-by-piece, killing her mother. And yet, despite her best efforts not to engage, Weiss had not only berated her for her support of the Argus Independence Front, but had resorted to blatant transphobia, just trying to get Pyrrha to swing at her. And damn her for it, she'd nearly done it. Jaune had formed at her wrist like a lead weight, stopping her from giving the heiress the knuckle sandwich she so badly desired. Since then, Pyrrha had made up her mind to simply avoid Weiss. Alas, no plan survives contact with the enemy...

Every other day, the two would see one another. Like mighty ships passing in a battle line, a trail of traded barbs would be exchanged. Weiss almost always started it, but Pyrrha was no slouch - and had plenty of her own negative opinions to voice. Some days, Pyrrha would need Jaune to hold her back. Others, Ruby - then Yang, when Ruby lacked the strength to restrain her - would beholding Weiss back. The tension was going to snap at some point, and both teams were concerned about it.

"Your assistance won't be needed. You may go." Weiss snapped dismissively. "If we need a bomb detonated or defused, I'm certain the staff knows where to find you."

Pyrrha had enough. She slammed her hands down on the metal prep table just behind the sink Weiss worked. "Gods damn it, what the hell did I ever do to you!?" She spun about on her heel, yelling at Weiss' back. "Every time you see me, you unload at me with the same, toxic attitude! Even Professor Port noticed it in class the other day! I don't know what your problem is, but I--"

"The Schnee Dust Company does not negotiate with terrorists. Please do not talk to me." Weiss bitterly spat the words out, continuing to clean. Pyrrha glared at the back of her head with a look of fury, but bit it back down. Once more, she reminded herself what Ren had told her. Weiss wanted to hurt her, to earn a reaction. She took a deep breath. She reminded herself what she was hear to do, and why she was here to do it. She set about gathering utensils and plates from other places in the messy kitchen, figuring Weiss would get bored and move on at some point. After all, why else would the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company be scrubbing dishes other than to get away from her team?

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Shale
Kingdom of Mistral, Atlas Colonial Region
Twelve Years Ago...

"STOP!" A man yelled. A series of whistles and bells followed suit. Slowly, the scores of laborers standing atop the large spoil tip, with their motley assembly of digging tools, came to a stop. Helmeted heads looked to and fro, and machinery was powered down. The whole of Shale fell quiet for that moment, only for a whistle to blow, and work to resume. That morning, the waste pile of the local mine had shifted, a mountain of unprocessed dirt and stone rolling down in a living mountain. It came down into the town, submerging half of the mining village in its stories-tall girth. Schools, hospitals, stores, homes... All had been swept away in a tidal wave of living earth.

A young Achille stood in the middle of the street, staring at the pile of dirt and debris that had stopped just blocks from his home, clutching his favorite toy excavator to his chest in mute concern. His shoulder-length, scarlet hair flowed behind him in the wind, his emerald eyes staring up at the pile in trembling terror. The child was too young to process, let alone even understand the disaster that had just unfolded. He heard sobbing and screaming, watched as draped stretchers were gently lowered down the relocated mountain. Every few minutes, a bell would chime, or a whistle would pierce the air, or people would yell. Then, the workers would stop their efforts, turn their machines to idle, then off. Then, they'd look around and wait, listening, watching.

Helen came back from down the road, her shovel hefted over her shoulder, wearing an ill-fitting miner's jumpsuit. Every rescue worker had something reflective on, and oversized or not, Helen wore one of her husband's mining suits. "Mommy? Where's daddy?" Achille asked, staring up at his mother with wide, worried eyes. "Is he still helping the others?"

"Yes." Helen replied softly, crouching down before him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "You're daddy has his excavator." She tapped the toy, painted a bright red and gold that matched Paris' jobsite machine of choice. "And he's digging to help all the people get out." It had been days, with no sign of him. Whether Helen knew he was already dead or was just hoping to keep a child's world from shattering before she could stop her efforts to be there for him, she didn't really know. But she told Achille that his father was hard at work, being a hero, because in this moment, that was the easier truth to bear. But as Helen stared back to the pile, clutching her only child in her arms, she felt her heart twist, tears welling in her eyes. 'No, damn you.' she bit at herself. 'Not now. Not in front of Achille. Cry on your own time, damn you...'.

But there was nothing in the world that could dull her emotions when, with the worst possible timing, a familiar face emerged. He had his left arm in a sling, walking with a slight limp. His dirty Schnee Dust Company mining uniform was spattered with blood. Despite his injury, Foreman Adamos had refused to leave his station. Until, he'd found a crushed, red and gold-painted excavator. With one hand, he dug, and dug. Others joined in, shoveling feverishly until they found the shattered, lifeless remains within. He knew his duty. He knew Helen would hear from the daily published list. Paris would rise from this wreck and kill him from the grave if that happened. No - Helen deserved to hear it from him first. And so, he had walked the streets, what little remained of them, until he found her crouched in the road with her kid.

He looked to her child, then to her. "Helen... we found Paris." When she looked up with a glint of hope, he shook his head slowly. He bit back his own tears, looking away as he heard the awful, wrenching noise of Helen Nikos shattering. Achille felt the arms tighten around him, dropping his toy as he heard his mother wail in anguish. He knew his world would never be complete again.

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Beacon Academy
Kingdom of Vale
Present Day...

Three days into the arrangement. Three days that Pyrrha had been forced to endure the relentless assault of Weiss Schnee. Each day, Weiss had found a new way to make her life hell. New insults. New slurs. Each day, she'd done everything in her power to drive Pyrrha off, as if she had some sort of ownership over the cafeteria kitchen. Each day, Pyrrha had returned, angrier than the last day, but just as desperate for the payday as she had been before.

Today, it was different. Usually, Pyrrha would come in to find Weiss hard at work - but Weiss was standing before the sink of the kitchen space. The kitchen was a wide, open commercial kitchen, with freshly cleaned metal cabinets and counters, chrome in color and uniform in make. It looked like the kind of kitchen a five star chef would cook from, with implements and tools hanging from hooks in the ceiling, commercial fridges, icemakers, and gas burners. Weiss had her arms crossed. "Leave." She ordered, a resigned tone in her voice.

Pyrrha had pieced together that Weiss had developed some level of asymmetrical hatred. She perceived some kind of wrong that Pyrrha had done, and wanted to take out her frustrations by driving Pyrrha away, like a wounded animal trying to secure its corner of an enclosure. It was as if something deep in her soul was revolted by Pyrrha simply being there. At first, she'd sworn that it was yet another Atlesian transphobe. But it was deeper, Pyrrha realized. It had to be. Not even her most committed detractors were so personally invested in inciting her fury. While she could recognize that this was something Weiss was dealing with, Pyrrha Nikos was still a human. An incredibly stressed, patience-drained human being, and she had officially had her fill of it by now. She stood firm.

Pyrrha set her messenger bag down in the corner. "I will not." She firmly replied, holding her ground. "I don't know why you're here, or why you hate me so badly, but I need this job for my family. If you're so unwilling to work with me, then you're free to leave. But I'm getting to work, and no matter what you say or do, you will not force me out." She began to unbutton the jacket of her uniform, but Weiss didn't budge.

In fact, Weiss took a step forward, her hand taking to a metal container that was somewhat filled with mucky water. "Get. Out." Weiss ordered once more. They were past jabs and threats. Pyrrha tensed, rolling her shoulders, anticipating the hostile action. She slowly shook her head 'no'.

"Weiss Schnee. Do not dare throw that." Pyrrha offered one last chance for Weiss to stand down, to not cross the point of no return, but by now, a part of her hoped that the Schnee heiress did, in fact, throw it. If she threw first, Pyrrha could defend herself, and an angry corner of her mind relished the idea of finally bursting this dam with the force of arms. Soon enough, she had her wish. The dish flew through the air, only to come to a jerking stop mid-flight that splashed the floor with the watery contents inside. Weiss' eyes widened in shock when she saw the dish hang mid-air, Pyrrha's face darkened and her right hand raised towards it. She realized in that moment that she, like everyone else, had never observed Pyrrha's semblance directly. And, in her eagerness to hurt the girl that had hurt her so badly those years ago, she had earned the chance to be the first to learn about it. Pyrrha took a series of measured steps forward, before flinging the metal, rectangular dish into a nearby wall with a sudden, harsh jerk, where it slammed into the wall and spilled its contents with a harsh crashing sound. "So be it."

Pyrrha swept forward in a blur towards the sink, fishing out a long, metal soup spoon and circular pot lid, spinning back just in time to see where Weiss had grabbed an extended knife sharpening rod, holding out in a practiced fencing position. Weiss struck first, probing at Pyrrha's makeshift shield with practiced strikes, each aimed at the outer edges of the lid in an attempt to knock the shield loose or otherwise knock it free from a useful position.

Pyrrha didn't take the assault laying back however, proactively seeking Weiss' 'sword' with her shield, before swinging it up just high enough to sweep Weiss' arm back over her shoulder. She moved in with practiced precision, aiming to whack Weiss a few good times with her ladle. She came up just short as, with the grace of a dancer, Weiss leapt back a half-step and looped her sharpening rod into the handle of an ice machine, yanking hard. A black glyph spun to life over the open maw of the waist-high, under-the-counter machine, before launching the ice from within the machine directly at Pyrrha. She got her shield up fast enough, but the metal lid was no Akouo. Pyrrha staggered back as she felt her legs and face getting peppered with the fast-moving ice cubes, forcing her to retreat and give the heiress her dearly-purchased space.

However, range did not necessarily restrict Pyrrha too severely. When the geyser of ice came to an end, Pyrrha wheeled up, twirling her body into a spin as she heaved her large lid towards Weiss like a discus. Weiss was prepared for some form of attack from the champion after her icy assault came to an end, swiftly ducking out of the way. However, she still seemingly had not grasped Pyrrha's mastery of polarity. Pyrrha turned her wrist, hooking her left index finger back, beckoning an invisible force. Her metal shield answered her summon and came rocketing back towards Weiss, connecting with the back of her head with a loud 'clang' and a yelp from the stumbling heiress. Pyrrha pressed the attack, lancing at Weiss with her ladle, sticking to swift pokes and stabs. Given Weiss' expertise with her rapier, she correctly assumed that Weiss could easily match her tap for tap, so she couldn't afford sweeping slashes that left her open, instead keeping a closed posture that allowed a better opportunity to parry incoming attacks. Weiss retreated until her foot stepped onto the discarded 'shield' a few feet behind her.

Fast to act, Pyrrha slapped at thin air with her left hand, her semblance sending the lid skimming across the floor and Weiss clattering to the ground. When Pyrrha dove in, bringing her spatula down at where Weiss had gone prone, Weiss quickly rolled on the floor, before swiftly diving through the metal prep table in the center of the kitchen, coming through on the other side in a hailstorm of Styrofoam cups and plates, displace from where they had been stored as she barreled through. She got to her feet quickly, knowing Pyrrha would be on her soon. She initially went left, but Pyrrha, on the opposite end of the table, went right. Then, they mirrored each other again, and again. Eventually, Pyrrha gripped the table, driving hard with her legs as the wheeled prep table set into motion. Weiss tried to push back, but strength was definitely not how she was going to win this. At the last moment before the wheeled table made contact with the counter opposite of the sink, where Weiss would be pinned, she leapt up onto the table. The sudden and sharp impact that resulted from Weiss suddenly letting go created a loud, metal snap, sending spice bottles and utensils rattling off of the counter. While Weiss' school shoes didn't have the reinforced metal toe of her combat attire, she was still plenty capable of powerful kicks, delivering one directly to Pyrrha's chin. Pyrrha barely moved back however, her aura still plenty strong. After all, they were fighting with kitchen implements, not weapons, and Pyrrha had definitely taken worse blows in her days of the tournament circuit. But that was alright - it was only Weiss' opener.

Weiss lunged from atop the table, vaulting over Pyrrha's head in a graceful spin, landing behind the champion. She quickly reached to turn on the faucet of the sink, gripping and aiming the overhead hose towards Pyrrha with decisive intent. The scalding hot water licked at the champion like the breath of a dragon, connecting with her sternum at enough volume and temperature to force a hiss of pain from her. Pyrrha twirled out of the way, shooting her hands up above her head. The metal from inside the sink, originating from the diversity of dirty utensils, cookware and metal storage bins began to rattle and groan, before also launching up, slamming into the ceiling. The result was showering Weiss with dirty, lukewarm water and dirty dishes. Weiss wretched, uncomfortable with the disgusting water and unpleasant sensation of 'tepid lukewarm' suddenly being all over her back. She kept her sharpening rod, unleashing a spinning barrage on Pyrrha. She would strike, stab, then riposte off of Pyrrha's soupspoon, driving her back with her furious offensive.

Eventually, Pyrrha was backed towards the corner of the kitchen, where a broom rack hung by the door, in addition to several health and safety notices. Pyrrha acted fast, discarding her spoon for an old, metal mop. Even with the excessive weight of the dirty head, the mop was much closer to Milo than her previous improvised weapon had been. With a few swift, controlled twirls of her new weapon, she was once again comfortably blocking every attack Weiss was sending her way, once more driving the heiress back into the kitchen. Weiss grit her teeth, sensing that her initial initiative was fading quickly. She was losing, another hopeless idiot bested by the Invincible Girl, even as the fight was still technically going. As she backpedaled, she cried out with indignant rage. "Why did you have to come to Beacon?! Why couldn't you just let me have this?! After what you did to me, why couldn't you just stay in Mistral?!"

"What did I even do to you, Weiss?!" Pyrrha yelled out, continuing her onslaught. "I didn't even know you until last week! You started this whole situation!"

Of course. Pyrrha wouldn't know Weiss. Weiss only even knew Pyrrha through a television screen. She wouldn't know how badly that day, so long ago, had crushed her...

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Schnee Estate
Kingdom of Atlas
3 years ago...

Weiss lay across her bed, her pillow pressed to her face as she sobbed. There was no delicate way to put it - she was bawling like a child, her voice strained from grief, her lips numb and her head pounding. She had been getting ready to watch the finals of the Mistral Regional Tournament, ready to escape the nightmare of her home through the heroics of her idol just one more time before the tournament season came to an end. Klein had gently knocked on her door, and Weiss had eagerly opened for him. When she looked at her dearest servant, and the sad look on his face, her world had shattered into a thousand little pieces.

Her dearest Uncle Frost was dead. The terrorists often simply referred to as 'red-belts', the Argus Independence Front, had planted a bomb in his airship. As he'd landed at the Boot, a military installation where the Atlesian military managed the colony of Argus, to discuss a defense contract with a few high-ranking Atlesian military officials in anticipation of major riots in the Argus streets, his ship had detonated into a ball of flame so vast that it consumed a few nearby parked mantas. He was gone. Not just dead, but not even a body left to bury. Gone. Weiss would never see her Uncle Frost again, not even one last time at his wake. She had simply nodded, gently closing the door with a muttered thanks to her loyal, dear servant. She walked to the trunk where she sat to watch her television, turning it on as she began to cry softly and silently. She needed to watch the fight. She needed to see her hero overcome and persevere one more time, now more than ever. She reached for a pillow, wrapping herself around it to mute her muffled sobs as the duel began.

That's when she saw the last strands of hope ripped from her world. There, she saw her champion in the midst of her triumphant, final drive in the arena. She noticed a new color from the fighter. Of course, she was used to seeing a blur of red around Pyrrha Nikos, her hair was one of her most immediately-identifiable features. But lower, she noticed something new, something devastating. At some point, Pyrrha had made a modification to her standard regalia. A modification that, today of all days, was devastating to Weiss.

A long, flowing, red sash.

Seeing the symbol of the terrorist organization that had just butchered her uncle and a dozen others was too much. As if being struck, the wound of her loss was reignited in a new fit of wailing, pressed into her pillow. At some point, she must have won, as she heard the enthused lilt of the filthy, hateful traitor over her own wretched sobs. "...dedicate this victory to the brave people of Argus, and our ongoing efforts for a free and just tomorrow!"

Weiss had never hurt as badly as she did today. Not once.

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Beacon Academy
Kingdom of Vale
Present Day...

Weiss quivered, lowering her sharpening rod, tears bristling in her eyes. Pyrrha's onslaught had ceased, as she slowly lowered her mop. "He was a good man!" Weiss screamed out her indignation, her voice trembling as she locked cold, icy blue eyes with Pyrrha. "He was loving! Kind! Compassionate! All the things in my life that mother was too drunk and father was too busy to provide! And you... you bitch, you walked out there with that damned red sash the day he died!" Her tears flowed freely down her cheek as she spiked her sharpening rod off of the linoleum floor, sinking to her knees. "As if it was some signature you slapped on the terrorist attack! As if you were looking right through the television, right at me, and saying 'Hello, Weiss. I hope that uncle of yours is burning in the six hells!'" Weiss sputtered a few times, her shoulders heaving as she let the anguish out of her soul with each sharp gasp and shuddering breath. There was nothing else she could say. She had no more insults to lob at Pyrrha, no more hate to speak. She simply wept.

Pyrrha dropped her mop, her heart breaking into pieces at the sight. Of course, she had no way of knowing literally any of this private battle. Clearly, Weiss had developed a parasocial relationship with her through the tournaments and interviews on television. She wondered how many other little Wiess' there were out there, getting this deeply attached to a woman they'd never even really met. She softly approached Weiss, lowering to a knee in front of her, setting a hand on her shoulder. "When I was a child, my father died in the Shale collapse. My entire town was destroyed so thoroughly that what few of us survived were bussed to Argus and resettled in the low-income sector." She kept her voice steady and soft. Weiss still looked away, sobbing into her hands, but had not made an attempt to dislodge Pyrrha from where she was. "I watched daily as the rights, the liberties of my homeland were stripped away from us. Atlas can be a harsh mistress when it comes to the affairs of state. As you know, Argus has a few... social liberties, that Atlas does not. Or, it had them. Much of our culture was forcefully erased, becoming outlawed. Did you know that the fact that my training ID has me listed as 'Pyrrha Nikos, Female' is a serious crime in my home city, thanks to Atlas laws signed a few months ago?"

Weiss looked up at her with puffy, red eyes. Pyrrha felt tears welling in her own eyes. She could relate to the pain of loss, and the anger it put in her heart. If she'd been asked as a pre-teen what she would think of a Schnee heiress and an Atlesian officer staff being blown away, she was ashamed to admit that she probably would have reveled in it. "Weiss, I am so, deeply sorry about your Uncle." She brought her second hand to Weiss' shoulders, hemming her in, forcing eye contact to convey the seriousness and genuine nature of her words. "I know he must have meant the world to you. I would never, in a million years, advocate for death and murder. Like all revolutionary causes, there are radicals who take things too far, too fast. Would you like to know why I chose that day to begin wearing the scarlet sash?" When Weiss gave her a slow nod, she continued. "You see, the sash that I wear belonged to my mother. She had been actively protesting with many of the others, until her health deteriorated to a point where it was... inadvisable. But... she didn't want to stop. She couldn't. Atlas had taken too much from us... from her. She was going to continue demonstrating, even if it killed her. So, I took up the sash for her. A trade, if you will. I would wear the sash in my fights, publicly honor those who stood up for our liberation - through peaceful means - and she would honor my wishes by staying indoors. I had not heard of the Boot Bombing until hours after the match. It was not a 'signature' on your Uncle's death. I promise."

Weiss wilted. Of course Pyrrha would support that cause. Her family had killed her father. Her nation had stripped her legal rights to exist as the person Weiss had admired through the television. It wasn't an edgy dig at the Schnees for their loss, it was just an unfortunate coincidence - one that had caused her so much pain. She felt the size of an atom. Here she'd been, going out of her way to hurt Pyrrha in every emotional way she could to get even for that day, when she should have recognized the wider picture of Argus. She wanted to curl up and cry yet again, but instead, took the offered olive branch, speaking up. "Is your mother still sick?" Weiss asked after a delayed pause, her breath slow and her voice hoarse.

Pyrrha gave a sympathetic smile. "Unfortunately, she's worse now than she was then. I... fear there may not be much time left. That's why I took this job. She needs the money for the treatments she's undergoing. I am... admittedly... quite low on money at the moment, and I am trying to raise the money needed for her bills. I... was actually curious why you were working here. Your family has more money than the Vale GDP..."

"My family does. I... do not. My father, he's..." She shook her head. "How do I put this... When my mother is day-drinking, he can be... stressed out. I don't hate him. But he gets... angry... when bad news comes in. He takes it out on his staff. On my mom. If he can't find either of them... then, me." She gestured to the scar over her left eye, drawing a shocked gasp from Pyrrha. "So, when I came here, it was in the hopes that I could finally sever myself from that cycle. Yes, I have access to wealth - through my father. When I saw the job posting, I figured... maybe, it'd be a good start in breaking my dependence on the Schnee household. Maybe I could find myself before I graduate and return, and it would make me more like my sister, Winter. Or, more like you." Pyrrha tilted her head, confused at the idea of 'being like her'.

Weiss pressed on. "When I saw you through the television a few years back, I saw somebody who had been pushed down because of who you were. But you didn't care what expectations or limitations were put on you by your station." She gave a half-hearted smile. "You were unapologetically Pyrrha Nikos. And maybe it would have been a passing headline or two, but then you won. And you kept winning. The tabloids in Atlas arose with scandalous stories about your transition, all but calling for you to be banned from competition. But you... you didn't even react. You just kept fighting. I figured, if I could do the same, if I could drill harder to master my hereditary semblance, if I could train to be a huntress, I might be like you. Free to pursue whoever Weiss was meant to be without the name 'Schnee' dictating it to me." She batted away a few tears, nervously smiling.

Pyrrha chuckled, shaking her head. "I never even saw those headlines, or news stories. Of course, I heard transphobic barbs here or there, but..." She shrugged. "No cable. No newspapers. I didn't have the money for them, and... Mom never cared to share what they were saying with me." Pyrrha offered a grin. She then withdrew her hands from Weiss' shoulder, surveying the absolute mess of the kitchen.

"I've been terrible, Pyrrha." Weiss admitted, her head hanging. "I'm so sorry. I should never have taken things out on you like this. Do you think... maybe, we could start over?" A fond smile came from Pyrrha as Weiss suggested it. Twice now, she'd been asked that question at Beacon. The first time, it had been Jaune, and he had become her dearest friend of the bunch. So, she saw no reason to see where a second time around wouldn't hurt. Pyrrha lowered her hands from Weiss' shoulder, giving the same answer she'd given Jaune.

"I'd love that."

"We're going to be in so much trouble..." Weiss groaned, looking around the kitchen.

"If we leave it like this, yes." Pyrrha stood, looking around the messy kitchen. Weiss lifted herself from the floor as well, surveying the damage.. Pyrrha did the same, and the two slowly looked around at the chaos they'd left in their wake. Water dripped everywhere, ice was scattered all the way out into the dining hall, pots and pans were all over the place...

"Well... Nothing looks permanently broken..." Weiss said softly.

"I can fix the dents to the metal with my semblance..." Pyrrha responded for her part.

"Alright. Nothing for it." Weiss patted her hands together, sighing, before moving to remove her sopping, wet uniform jacket. "I'd rather not be out until three in the morning. We should get to work." And so, they did. They worked quietly together to clean their mutual mess, idly talking and getting to know each other as they went. They still had a half week to go before the weekend, but suddenly, that didn't seem like such a bad prospect.

Chapter Text

"Slayer..." The deep, grizzled voice echoed through the dorm room, their television screen divided into four corners, each serving as its own smaller screen. After a long and difficult day of tests in almost all of their shared classes, Jaune had broken out his game console and favorite video game, passing controllers to his friends. He'd warned them all of the dire consequences of screen-peaking, and Team Juniper launched into its newest mission:

One by one systematically killing the others, until one of them had managed to score 25 kills.

Of the four of them, Jaune and Nora were making the fastest progress. Jaune was in the lead for now. It was his bread and butter, after all. "I'm just gonna warn you all now, while I lack the finesse you all have in combat class? This, right here, is my specialty!" He rounded the corner on a red-clad space trooper, the color Pyrrha had picked. He smirked as he held down the trigger of his controller, lining shot after precise shot on the Invicible Girl's avatar, her character spraying off bullets in literally every direction except Jaune. Another easy kill for the Argus Ace. Yeah, that'd be his nickname. Not the dorky name he'd picked in middle school, 'Sparky Arcy'. He swore, he could still hear the dorm erupt into laughter over the username.

"Awww..." Pyrrha sulked, being reminded of her 0-8 performance so far in the match statistics that popped up as she respawned. When her character popped back in, she moved her sticks around until she saw something truly beautiful. "Yes!" She declared, spotting one of the numerous power weapons scattered around the map before her. The fabled rocket launcher. She wouldn't need to aim. Hells, she wouldn't even need to live! She'd at least get one of them! Ignorant of the massive opening the launcher sat within, she charged ahead. This rocket launcher was her destiny, and she was a true believer in the--

A thwap of a bullet and the line of smoke from a sniper barrel brought Pyrrha's aura to nothing in a single snap. She turned her character just in time to present the sniper with a nice, clean shot at her trooper's armored chest. Ren, who was doing much better than her with the video game, allowed an easy smirk to cross his face. "Better luck next time, Pyrrha." he teased lightly. However, just as quickly as his kill had come, he watched as a pink-armored soldier picked up the launcher that had baited Pyrrha to an early demise, launching both rounds off in Ren's direction.

"FOR PYRRHA!" She yelled out, watching as Ren's green space trooper was blasted to high orbit. "Score ten for Nora! Mama's bringing home the bacon tonight!" She yelled, mashing buttons on her controller. Jaune swept his character around the corner, only for Nora's character to summon forth a hilt, out of which an energy blade manifested. "COME 'ERE, JAUNE! COME HERE!" She shrieked, giving chase to Jaune's character as he backpedaled away from Nora's sword manic sword swinging, spraying rifle fire in her direction. He blinked in surprise as his character suddenly died to a swift, one-shot-kill punch to the back. He saw a red trooper loom over him, and flinched as to his immediate left, Pyrrha threw her arms up, pumping her controller in the air with a triumphant cheer at actually getting a kill. She didn't even notice, or particularly care, as Nora's character ran hers clean through with the energy blade.

Jaune patted her back, giving his partner a sportsmanly smile. "Good job, P. You killed me." His smirk widened, the urge to trash talk just too high. "If this were golf, you'd be winning."

She stuck her tongue out at him with a playful chuckle before returning her focus to the game.

Ren had all but vanished, his technique killing far too slowly to keep up with the high-energy fighting between Nora and Jaune, and Pyrrha was still essentially a free kill to whichever player saw her first. The head-to-head for the winner of the match was firmly between Jaune and Nora. A chaotic cackle came from Nora as she found more rockets for her newest favorite toy. Jaune, for his part, was hunting down that damned energy sword. Nora had proven lethal with it, and he decided he needed to keep it far, far away from her.

"Oh? What's this?" Pyrrha asked, pointing forward at her side of the screen, where a strange and massive futuristic hammer was leaned against an empty locker, a serrated blade on its backside. Her emerald eyes widened when, again, a 'thwap' sounded from the shadows, a streak of smoke going through where her trooper's head had been.

"Well, it's not yours." Ren chuckled. Pyrrha generated a strange noise between choking and a disappointed whine, looking across to him with an expression that pleaded for an ounce of mercy.

Nora had seen it, and vaguely remembered what part of the map Pyrrha had found the hammer in. "Oh-ho! Come to mama!" She said with fierce determination, her ears pinning back. She rounded the corner into the locker room, firing a salvo of rockets until she saw the kill feed update with 'SPARKY ARCY (2) [ROCKET LAUNCHER] SPARKY ARCY (4)' - they were all using a guest account based on Jaune's Y-Box 720 account. Nora smirked, claiming her hammer, watching as her character hefted it high. "Oh yeah, this'll work!" And like that, Nora was on a warpath, hunting for somebody's head to bash in.

Jaune was not screen-peaking, as he was a man of honor. But every now and again, the sick crunch of the proton hammer would sound from across the map, followed by an update to the kill feed. Before long, Nora and Jaune were tied at 24 kills. At that moment, Jaune found his energy sword. "Alright, Nora! Let's settle this between the two of us." Jaune said with a wide smile. Prompted by the truce offering, Pyrrha brought her trooper around a corner and stood back to 'watch' the duel, whereas Ren was, again, nowhere to be seen. Damn, Jaune thought, he was an incredible sniper...

Nora came out, her direction and rate of approach audible by the 'fawoosh' noise of her hammer going off every couple of seconds. "You're so dead, boss! I'm gonna split your head open like a watermelon!" Her voice went high and squeaky at the end with an excited giggle.

"Care to bet on it?" Jaune offered playfully with a smirk, drawing a chorus of 'ooooo's' from Pyrrha and Ren.

"Yeah! I do! Loser has to go turn in our Physics essays!" The dreaded walk across campus. Nearly every single professor accepted digital scans of completed work. Not Proffessor Sorola. He insisted on all assignments being turned in by hand, saying something about 'huntsmen these days being too reliant on technology'. It was a real pain in the ass, especially when he didn't accept early turn-ins. It had turned out, three times now, that somebody from Juniper had been forced to make the awkward walk across campus to hand in four, twenty-page essays when they had no other business on that side of the campus that day. They all dreaded what it'd be like to do that next semester in the dead of winter.

"I accept the terms of your just and honorable duel, madame." Jaune said with a snort and a fake bow, his controller over his heart. "Nobody else needs to die today."

'Thwap'. "REN!" Pyrrha yelped out, all the while Ren chuckled from beside Nora.

"Except Pyrrha. Pyrrha needs to die today, I guess." Jaune corrected with a small bit of laughter. And then, as if that had been the starting shot of the duel, Nora and Jaune were off. Their melees were in perfect sync, deflecting off one another over and over and over again. The lowered auras of their characters bleeped and whined. Over and over, they clashed, but eventually, Jaune's sword struck true. He'd done it. For his first time in his enrollment at Beacon, Jaune was the winner. Victory was so, so sweet...

Nora sighed, then gave Jaune a firm slap to the back. "Good game, boss!" She went to stand, looking around for the physics papers. "Anyone need anything while I'm out?" When she looked down to three shaking heads, she sighed in relief. "Right! I'll run these ol' papers over, and I'll be right back!" Nora hefted up the papers, whistling merrily as she went down the hallway, the door sliding shut behind her. The sad thing was that the walk wasn't actually that far. She made her way down the stairs to the lobby, walking out across the campus courtyard. It was a muggy, overcast day, one of the last humid blasts of summer before things began to cool for autumn. Her mind raced from detail to detail, hyper fixating for a moment or two before finding something else to stare at, whether it be a bird, a few people talking by a bench, or even a skybus flying gently overhead. Before long, she looked ahead just in time for the door to the academic hall to practically jump-scare her. She slid the door open, casually humming as she pushed onwards towards Professor Sorola's class.

That was, until a hand spiked down through her stack of papers, scattering them across the floor. "Hm?" She asked, looking up to the source. Dressed in a loose, seemingly never steamed Beacon uniform that was, perhaps, a size to small across his broad chest, was Cardin Winchester. He stared down at her with a hooked smirk, crossing his arms.

"Oops. Sorry about that." He said, watching her with a glint in his eyes. "Guess you'd better pick that up."

Nora stared at him curiously. She'd seen Jaune talk to him after orientation a few weeks ago, and the two had traded a harsh stare nearly every time they walked past each other, but Nora had not yet pieced together just what his problem. "Hey, don't worry about it!" Nora offered a fake smile. "Accidents happen!" She chirped out in a singsong voice, before dropping into a crouch to begin picking up the papers.

"Yeah, that's right, Foxy." He said with a measured chuckle, before stepping a foot firmly on one of the stapled stacks, twisting his foot with enough force to tear the sheets. "Woops! Another accident! So sorry, I'm a real clutz!"

Jaune was the kind to stare at Cardin and say nothing. Nora, however, was not. She was up to her feet in an instant, uppercutting Cardin from below in a place young men probably shouldn't be uppercut. Aura or not, it always hurt. "GAH, YOU DIRTY FUCKING ANIMAL!" He cried out, doubling back into the wall behind him. Nora held her fists up in a practiced stance - she'd had to defend herself before, and she was damned good at it.

As Cardin came off the locker, raising his own hands, prepared to fight Nora in earnest, only for another voice to chime in. "Leave her alone, Cardin!" It was the quiet voice of the bookworm from Team RWBY, but it came through with a stern fury behind it that threatened violence. If Cardin went to swing at Nora, then the girl with long, black hair and blazing yellow eyes would jump in as well. Cardin looked between the two of them, shaking his head, throwing a dismissive swat at the air.

"This isn't over, Foxy..." He muttered, walking off. Nora's ears fell back as she looked to the source of the intervention. It was Blake Belladonna. Nora narrowed her eyes as she stared at her, suddenly missing the racist who had wanted to box Nora over his own failed attempt to bully her.

"What do you want?" She choked out. "I told you, I don't want to see you skulking around me." Her playful tone was otherwise gone, instead laced with a deep hatred.

"Yang and I were walking back to the dorms when I heard Cardin. I knew it couldn't be good." Blake offered, lifting her arms placatingly. "So, I came to check it out. Do you need help with--"

Blake was suddenly cut off. "I need you to leave me be. Seriously, Belladonna." Nora warned, her language harsh, her tone biting. She collected her papers from the floor, staring at Blake. "I'm not playing." It was all so out of character for the otherwise happiest-of-go-lucky members of Team Juniper. But, given the history of their clans...

Blake winced, nodding her head. "...Right. Sorry, Nora." She turned, walking back from where she came. Nora submitted her papers, wincing at Jaune's own torn up essay. She explained what had happened, and Professor Sorola offered her the bland platitudes of a human who, on the surface, felt bad about a faunus being bullied for her species, but wasn't really committed to doing anything about it. Ultimately apathetic about it, Nora was content with the platitude and the opportunity to head back to the dorms.

The next morning, there was a stern knocking on the door to team Juniper's dorm room. Jaune poked his head up from where he was still sleeping in. Ren, however, was already moving around and getting ready, a towel wrapped around his waist. He slid the door open, staring at an arm-crossed Yang Xiao Long. "Hi. Remember out little talk a few weeks ago about second chances?"

"Gods..." Ren sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, brushing his damp hair from his face with the other hand. "What happened?"

"Cardin jumped Nora. Blake backed her up, and Nora gave her hell when Cardin left." Yang reported, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I don't know about you, but I've had it."

Jaune poked his head up from his bed, his eyes wide. "Cardin did what?!?" He dove out of bed, still in a white shirt and grey sweatpants. He fumbled into his house shoes, sliding his way up to the door with Yang and Ren.

Yang shook her head. "The bigoted bully was a bigoted bully, more at eleven. Look, here's the deal. We need to quash this Blake-Nora thing, yesterday." Yang drew the conversation back to her desired focus. "You realize even Pyrrha and Ice Queen made up by now? And I'm pretty sure the Schnee Dust Company gave P-Money's family the Rasket-Bobbins 'fifty-one flavors' of bullshit."

Ren huffed out another sigh, but Jaune spoke up first. "I agree. Next semester, we'll be going on missions together. We need to be able to rely on one another completely, or people are gonna get hurt..." He nodded firmly, looking between Yang and Ren.

"It's... complicated. I don't think this is the sort of thing that can be smoothed over by a forced conversation." Ren said, looking between the two of them. "She told me the other week that it was related to how my father found her, and her being an orphan." He leaned in, whispering. "I hate to speculate about Nora... but I think it may involve the White Fang."

Yang remained suspiciously silent. Jaune nodded. "They don't really operate here in Vale, as far as I know, but they're pretty active in Mistral and Atlas." Then, he paused for a moment. "But... Blake's not a faunus, is she? What business would she have with the Fang?"

Yang went awkwardly quiet, staring at Ren, who gave a sigh. "I was right about my hunch, wasn't I?"

Yang nodded. "Yeah. She's a faunus." Yang whispered softly, so nobody else could hear. "We found out on our end that she did run with the White Fang for a while."

"That makes sense." Jaune crossed his arms, nodding. "I always thought it was one hell of a coincidence that her last name was Belladonna. She got real quiet in history during the Faunus War lectures, too..."

Ren seemed to stare forward for a moment. Nora had never told him exactly how she'd come to be an orphan. Sure, he'd suspected the Fang before, but it was an old wound that the pair never spoke about, despite speaking about everything else. He wanted to know, but he didn't want to pry, and he certainly didn't want to force Nora into a room with Blake.

"It was a purge." Nora suddenly said from behind them, still clad in her pajamas, walking back down the hall with a stacked plate of pancakes, drawing all of their gazes to her immediately as if they'd been caught conspiring in the shadows. Jaune practically leapt out of his skin. "A distant cousin of mine tipped off law enforcement to a White Fang attack. A lot of them didn't make it because of it. Somehow, it made it back to the Fang, and Ghira Belladonna ordered a purge." Her grip on her plate tightened, her face scrunching as she fought back tears, her ears drooping to the side. "That's how the White Fang handles informants. Your whole family is put to the sword. The Valkyrie clan was wiped out."

In just a towel or not, Ren gently pushed past Yang, taking the plate into his hands, passing it back towards Yang. Yang, despite her frustrations with the conflict, could sympathize and took Nora's plate carefully. Ultimately, she liked Nora, after all, and only sparked this confrontation to get to the bottom of the obvious pain point. Of course, now that she had, she felt like a monster for forcing such a confession. The next part twisted the knife deeper. "Why didn't you tell me, Nora?" Ren asked, with what sounded like genuine heartbreak.

"Because then you and your family would have been the next target! Do you honestly think your dad wouldn't have taken the Kuroyuri Rangers out into the woodline after them if he heard that story? Then, they'd be dead, too!" When Ren wrapped his arms around Nora, holding her tightly.

"Blake isn't with the White Fang anymore. And even if she was, I know she would never have agreed to anything like that." Yang said with a measured certainty, trusting her teammate and partner implicitly.

"We were children at the time." Ren said, still holding Nora in his arms, but turning to face Yang. "Unless the Fang uses child soldiers..." When Nora nodded into his chest, he blinked and balked with horror. "Oh gods, do they?"

"Blake didn't do it." Yang took a decisive step forward, doubling down. "She told us she left... that club... because of the violence." She looked around suspiciously, hoping they'd stop throwing the words 'white fang' around all willy-nilly in the middle of a public hallway. "You can't blame her because her father did something when she was still learning to read and write. You know that's not fair."

"If I may?" A new voice resounded from behind the group. It was Pyrrha, dressed in her gym wear, returning from her morning exercises. Truth be told, she'd been listening for a while, but had opted to remain quiet and get involved when it became naturally convenient. "Perhaps a bonding exercise would be the solution?" She looked between them, shrugging her shoulders.

"We can't all get a job in a kitchen to work out our trauma, Pyrrha!" Nora cried out indignantly, staring at her from Ren's arms. "I'm so glad that worked for you and Schnee, but this is just a little bit different! There's a lot of blood on Belladonna's hands!"

"The Schnee Dust Company killed my father and hundreds more in a mining disaster. Then, when the people of Argus protested for better labor rights, the Schnee Dust Company's private security committed the Brookstone Massacre." Pyrrha said with another shrug. Jaune bristled, recalling that particularly dark day in Argus' recent history. "That sounds to me like a lot of bloody hands." She observed, watching as her words sank in with her team, and Yang. "But Weiss is here to be a huntress, not in a private academy learning business management techniques, or training with the Atlesian military to bust protests and unions. She wants to make the world a better place, despite the actions of her family. So, Nora, why is Blake Belladonna enrolled in Beacon Academy?" When Nora's eyes fell away from contact, Pyrrha pushed her luck. "Is it perhaps because she wants to rid the world of monsters that butcher whole families?" Then, as if she had not just dropped a font of wisdom, she looked at Jaune. "Is the shower open?"

"Y-Yeah, all yours, P..." He choked out, before turning back to Ren, Nora, and Yang, sidestepping to let Pyrrha into their dorm.

"P-Money has a point, Nora." Yang offered, stepping closer to rest a hand on her shoulder. "She turned her back on..." She sighed. "you know, to come here. I'm just... asking, if maybe you can give her a chance? To show you that Blake's more than her last name?"

"I have an idea." Ren said with a smile, stepping back from Nora, hoping not to smother her between him and Yang. "Your favorite story is 'The Man With Two Souls'. I saw Blake reading it the night we arrived. You possibly have a very similar taste in books, and you know I love literature."

"Hey, yeah! I see where this is going!" Yang chimed in, smiling. "I'm not much of a reader myself, but I'll try anything once! We should form a book club!"

"My thoughts precisely." Ren offered a pleased grin. "What do you say, Nora?"

Nora was slow. Choosing forgiveness was a difficult ask in her position. But, ultimately, she relented with a sigh. "...Fine. I'll... try." As Nora spoke, Blake listened from behind the door to the Team Ruby dormroom, her back pressed to the wood as she listened to the exchange. Tears rolled down her cheek as she heard Nora relent. In her time with the Fang, she'd inflicted so much pain in this world in the name of change. The Fang had been doing good work, she knew it, but these days, it often caused more pain than progress. When Nora relented and allowed her a chance, even if Blake was not supposed to be there to hear it, her heart patched just a little bit. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance to heal some of the hurt and loss the White Fang left in its wake - if only one page of a book turned at a time. There was a lot of legwork to do, but Blake was willing to put in the time. Nora deserved it.

Chapter Text

Jaune Arc stood before the mirror in the locker room, staring deep into his own eyes. His freshly-polished armor hung around his torso, padded by his hoody, while Crocea Mors was held tightly in the grip of his right hand. His father had wielded this blade to defend innocents, constantly traveling from kingdom to kingdom. He could never tell Jaune what it was he did, saying it was all vital, but top secret. The sword was all that had been returned to his family when Jules Arc died in the defense of Mountain Glenn. Jaune memorized every chip in the blade, every scratch along the shaft. The threads that ran thin along the hilt, and the dents of the pommel. Each represented a heroic action that his father had made, a choice to stand and fight.

A choice to be a hero.

Jaune studied the blade for an extended time, before Pyrrha slowly walked up behind him. Like him, she was adorned in her full array of regalia, ready for the combat class. Though, the proven champion was far more impressive in her resplendent glory than the would-be knight looming awkwardly by the mirror. "Jaune... you don't need to do this." She warned, trying to pull him back from this reckless plan of his.

"I do." Jaune said, turning to face her. "He assaulted Nora. That's over the line. As a team leader, I need to take accountability for that." He was firm, frustration running high in his voice. Though, he knew what was awaiting him. It was the right thing, as the leader of Team Juniper, to march out into the arena and face Cardin. But he knew that it would not end well.

"It's just..." Pyrrha tried to gently maneuver around the topic. She, too, understood what was coming. She wasn't blind - she'd noticed his combat performance in their weeks at Beacon Academy.

"Just what?" Sadly, she failed. "That I can't do it? I'm the plan guy, the strategist, but not the fighter?" Jaune said, a cold bluntness dripping from his voice. He thrust Crocea Mors towards the locker room doors. "You think he's going to kick my ass, don't you?" Immediately, he felt pangs of regret. Pyrrha was right - why was he acting like some thunderhead who was actually capable of more than what was likely to be a crushingly-short match?

"N-No! It's just... We've only ever fought as a team, Jaune... Independently, things go a little..." She softly emphasized the word 'team', trying to word her concerns as diplomatically as possible. Jaune wasn't having it, though.

"If you want to doubt me, fine! But don't do that damned coddling thing that you do! I can't stand it, Pyrrha!" He snapped bitterly, forcing Pyrrha to recoil with a pained look flashing across her face. She had watched him the rest of the day, following Jaune's discovery of the incident between Cardin and Nora. Even if Nora had managed to score the final blow in the matter, it hadn't placated Jaune. It stewed in him the entire day, twirling in his mind. By dinner, he was too angry at Cardin to even eat, and sleep - assuming he'd had any - did not dull the fire, it seemed. He realized all too quickly what he'd done, holding his hands up towards her. "No, Pyrrha... I'm sorry, I didn't..."

"Go with honor, Jaune Arc." Pyrrha took a step back from his extended hand as she gave the traditional Argus departure, closing her eyes with resignation as she gave a brief bow, turning to walk towards the observation areas. It was not that she gave up on him in that instant, or that she was furious with him. Hurt? Certainly. But some lessons could not be explained, they had to simply be learned. She hoped that when this was done, enough of his ego was left intact to build him back up from the ashes. She knew Cardin would not go easy. It was no question that Cardin would beat Jaune handily. She'd done some investigating on her own time when she realized the confrontation that was coming, hoping to uncover some sort of advantage for Jaune to focus on, and found that Cardin was quite the mediocre duelist - and that was being generous. But Jaune... well, she hadn't found so much as a yearbook photo of him. It had struck her as fairly odd, but some kids were just shy growing up. Even with Cardin's middling capabilities, Pyrrha wondered if Jaune could even keep up for the duration of a round. In all of their training, he had quite the nasty habit of under-performance, and he regularly missed team practices.

Jaune turned to face himself one last time in the mirror, before shaking his head. Pyrrha was right, but it was too late now. He'd made his bed. Slowly, he walked out into the arena. It was lit with sterile, white lights, a fifteen feet deep pit in the ground surrounded with plexiglass, as well as rising bleachers to afford spectators a seat with a good view of the fight. A screen hung from the wall over the locker room doors, which showed the aura status of Jaune and Cardin.

In the middle of the arena, Cardin was propped against his maul, shaking his head. "Jeez, Jauney-boy. You sure do take forever to put so little armor on. What, d'ya'need your boyfriend to tie it up for you?" He was, of course, in his full suit of armor, a look of genuine annoyance on his face. The way his transphobic dig at Pyrrha so casually slid out would have set Jaune over the edge if he wasn't already here, cruising for a fight.

"Students, take your seats. Mister Arc, Mister Winchester, to your positions, please." Glynda Goodwitch said from her elevated position on the outside of the arena. "Today will be a round robin sparring session. The winner may select an opponent of their choice. By the end of the day, I expect each student to have fought at least once. However, take care to conserve your aura - you may fight multiple times, unless your aura becomes fully depleted. Note, that such an event will result in an automatic failure of this test."

Team Cardinal sat around the upper level, hooping and hollering at one another like a pack of jocks. Teams Ruby and Juniper were a lot more intermingled. Ruby sat with a worried look on her face, getting a pat on the back from Yang. "Chin up, Rubes. I bet Jaune beats his ass. You just watch."

"YEAH!" She yelled, catching Yang's optimism as if it were contagious She shot up to her feet with a squeak of her boots. "KICK HIS ASS, JAUNE!"

Weiss rolled her eyes, leaning in towards Pyrrha. "He doesn't stand a snowball's chance in Vacuo, does he?" Pyrrha's face grew tense. She didn't want to say it. Couldn't say it. It would be a betrayal of their friendship, and to him directly as her team leader. But objective truth was exactly that. Weiss seemed to understand, sighing softly. "I see."

Blake and Nora weren't exactly on easy speaking just yet, but they traded a look. Blake's eyes said it all, 'whatever happens, this is not your fault'. Nora looked back at her like a feral cat that had been shaken up and thrown in a moving car: eager to cause as much property damage as possible, as fast as possible.

"Begin!" Glynda yelled. Cardin and Jaune were off in moments. Cardin swept his maul a few times over his head, building up momentum. He then pucked it low, sweeping at Jaune's ribs. He managed to get his shield up in time, but the blow landed with a sickening crunch.

"Aw, come on! You gotta dodge those, Jaune!" Ruby yelled from the upper levels. Trying to tank blows like that was a great way to break bones. Jaune went flying, landing with a hard, rattling roll towards the arena wall, gasping as he gripped his wrist.

Cardin hefted his maul up over his shoulder, looking up towards the aura tracker. Jaune had been thrown like a football, but had only lost about ten percent of his aura. "Wow, Jauney-boy. You're aura... you've got a lot of it." He lowered his maul, pounding the heavy weapon's shaft in his free hand as he approached. "I guess that means we get to take our time with this, don't we?"

"Get up, Boss!" Nora screamed out, standing to her feet, pumping her fists. "You gotta get up!"

"Come on, Jaune!" Ruby kept shouting, emboldened by Jaune's slow recovery and Nora's yelling. Pyrrha sank back deeper in her chair, while Weiss did her best to hide her amusement at the already-one sided display when she noted the acute discomfort of her new friend.

Jaune staggered to his feet just in time for Cardin's maul to come sailing in again, this time catching him in the shoulder of his weapon arm. Once more, Jaune went down to the floor, hissing in pain as he rolled onto his back, favoring the shoulder. He was visibly injured, his sword abandoned where he dropped it. With practically no armor, and no shield meeting the incoming blow, combined with Carden's lethal intent, Jaune's aura dropped like a rock with that hit. Cardin pressed on, brutally clubbing Jaune with a rumbling laughter as, blow after blow, he beat Jaune like a drum. "Damn, man. I'd hoped an Arc would at least have fought back. Guess June, or whatever his name was, took all your family's fight with him to the grave. Damn, what a shame..." He hefted his maul high above his head, ready to drop it down on Jaune with brutal force when a buzzer sounded.

Glynda spoke up with a frustrated sigh, no doubt agitated by Jaune's performance. "Enough! Mister Winchester, Mister Arc has been on the ground for ten uninterrupted seconds. You win by technical knock-out. Mister Arc... I'm not sure I know what to say. While accidents do happen and injuries are possible, even with your aura up, you must learn to be faster on your feet. Because of your injury, you're eliminated for the day. I'm sorry, Mister Arc. You fail."

"Tough luck, pipsqueak. Now clear the floor." Cardin planted his maul back on his shoulder as Jaune went to reclaim Crocea Mors, but stopped as Cardin put a boot on it. He spoke lowly, so that only Jaune could hear. "I'm pretty pissed off at you, Jaune. How dare you limp your weak ass into this academy? Your no huntsman, I'll tell ya that. I'm onto you, Jaune. And I will start digging." He narrowed his eyes at Jaune. "Wasting my time. Theirs. You oughta be fuckin' ashamed." He gestured up towards where Teams Juniper and Ruby sat, before kicking Crocea Mors across the floor towards Jaune like a discrded toy. He then drew a finger into the stands, pointing directly at Pyrrha. "I want a go at Juniper's real leader."

Jaune took his blade, walking out of the arena with a sad sigh as Glynda spoke up. "Miss Nikos, please come down."

"Well, look at it this way, Pyrrha. You'll get to show..." Weiss trailed off when she turned to see her friend once more. In all of the matches she'd seen Pyrrha fight on television, and even in their own shameful little spat in the kitchen, she'd never seen Pyrrha look so... murderous? Was that the word? She was up on her feet and halfway down the steps before anyone of either team could so much as offer her a positive affirmation.

When she stepped into the arena, Cardin stood tall. Still at full aura. Still smug. Of course, he was wise enough to know that just because he could beat down and humiliate Jaune, that did not mean he could necessarily do the same to Pyrrha. He needed something a little extra in his corner. So, he revved up the old insult machine, and started talking trash. "You know, I gotta say. I'm real excited to go toe-to-toe with Mistral's finest." His smirk widened. "So, uh... just between us guys, what's up with Jauney-boy?" Pyrrha didn't say a word, not rising to the bait, raising Milo up in her right hand, extending it to its javelin form. Today would be a battle of reach, given his maul. "Oh, come on, dude, lighten up." He kept going with the gendered jabs.

"Mister Winchester." Glynda scolded. "That's quite enough."

"Ok, ok, sorry. Just some locker room talk, that's all." He gave a sheepish, heartless look of 'sorry' to Professor Goodwitch and returned his eyes to Pyrrha. "Girls just don't get how us guys talk, do they?" That was the last straw. Before Glynda could start the match, Pyrrha was across the arena with powerful, swift strides, thrusting Milo dangerously close to Cardin's head with a speed so electric that Cardin barely had time to jerk his face out of the way with a panicked "WOAH!" as he moved. She closed the distance once more, forcing Cardin to give a swift sweep of his hammer to try to back her up. She slid her shield arm low, letting the hammer glide towards Akouo. Could he really get her with the same trick he got Jaune with? Alas, at the last moment, he felt an invisible force pulling on his arm, forcing the hammer to barely graze the bronze shield before him. Nestling Milo in Akouo's crook, she charged inside, retracting Milo to its sword form. Now inside his arms, she began a deliberate and systematic series of swings towards his gut and lower body, the weakest parts of his armor. He tried to get back and purchase some space to maneuver, but Pyrrha was faster.

In desperation, he threw a hooked punch that caught Pyrrha in the side of the head, staggering her slightly. It wasn't the best punch he'd ever thrown, and it wasn't the worst hit Pyrrha had ever taken. However, it was good for enough time to allow him to heft his maul again and close the distance, making a series of sharp swings over his head as he let the weapon gain momentum before bringing it down hard in an overhead swing. Pyrrha vaulted back, letting the maul crash into the concrete floor of the arena, sending chunks of stone flying. She then rushed in, throwing her shield with a whip of her left arm. As Cardin fussed over his hammer, the soaring Akouo made a hard impact with his chin, removing him from the stuck maul. He favored his face as he backed up. Now unarmed and defenseless, Pyrrha lifted Milo to the nook of her arm, cycling it into its rifle form. She let a crack of the weapon out, connecting with Cardin's gut. The point-blank impact sent the reeling man to the floor wheezing for air, where she approached him in with cruel intent. Cycling the bolt, a golden dust shell flew sizzling from the mechanism. As Pyrrha approached, she looked up towards the aura tracker. Cardin was low. Very low. One more good whack would deplete him entirely, and that's exactly what she aimed to do. Realizing what was coming, Cardin lifted his hands. "N-No! Nikos, I need this grade! Come on, be cool about this! It was just banter!" She hefted Milo by the barrel of its rifle form, the stock hanging up in the air, before swinging it down like a baseball bat with a hard crack across the side of his head. Cardin fell to his side, his hands pressed to his head as he screamed in pain, cursing up a storm. A buzzer sounded, signaling he was depleted.

"Mister Winchester, your aura has been completely depleted before the round timer could conclude. As we discussed, a depleted aura means an automatic failure." Glynda announced from her podium. "Miss Nikos, please select your next opponent." Pyrrha cycled Milo back into its sword form, yanking her shield back to her wrist with her semblance. She pointed the scarlet and gold blade towards the next member of Team Cardinal she could land her eyes on. A sense of dread came over the arena as the three teams realized what was going on. She was going to, one by one, demolish and deconstruct each and every one of them.

After an hour or so, the fighting class ended. Team Cardinal had been utterly annihilated, while Teams Ruby and Juniper had traded a few decent wins and losses. Yang came out on top over Nora, but Ren was more than a match for Blake's unique semblance - not flinching in the face of her shadow clones. In the end, Nora had opted to go again in order to give Ruby a good fight, and Weiss took the opportunity to see how she stacked up against Ren. Pretty well, as it turned out. Jaune came walking out of the locker room without the rest of his team. It was around the time he'd noticed that Pyrrha hadn't been seen since her brutal beatdown of Team Cardinal that a familiar but firm glove-clad hand gripped him tightly by the scruff of his hoodie, yanking him around the side of the building, planting him against a wall. Jaune yelped in surprise, looking directly into Pyrrha's eyes. She was still dressed and equipped for combat, and had a look of outrage on her face. Had she not already gotten her pound of flesh from Cardinal? "Ah, watch the shoulder, P... I think I really--"

"What the hells was that!?" Pyrrha hissed through clenched teeth. "You let him walk all over you!"

"I tried, ok? He got a few lucky hits in..." Jaune winced out, looking away.

"No, you let him do it with a series of mistakes that usually get drilled out in basic classes!" Pyrrha pressed him further, whisper-yelling. "What school taught you how to fight like this!? They're dangerous! They could have gotten you seriously hurt!"

Immediately, Jaune's cheeks flushed red, pins in needles forming in his extremities. His delay in reaction caused Pyrrha's eyes to widen. Suddenly, the distinct absence of a noteworthy 'Jaune Arc' at any of Remnant's huntsman academies, like Sanctum or Sigil, made sense. Everyone here at Beacon had something big about them. Pyrrha and her tournament winds, Yang's dismantling of a local illicit nightclub. Even Ruby had an article about stopping a dust robbery at a local store. But with Jaune, it was as if he had simply materialized out of thin air before stepping onto the transport from Argus. Pyrrha had a hunch as to why, and she didn't like it. "No..."

How had he managed to get so far into the semester? How had he not been found out before? Jaune's eyes watered as he leaned his head back against the brick wall Pyrrha was pinning him to, remaining there as she slowly let go. She gently stepped beside him, still shocked as she put her own back to the wall beside him, resting her weight on Akouo's place on her back. They stood there for a while, not saying aloud what they knew. Jaune had snuck his way in. Eventually, Jaune spoke with a strained voice, tears rolling down his cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, Pyrrha. I'll... I'll go to Headmaster Ozpin, and I'll tell him everything. I promise, I--"

"No." Pyrrha said, bluntly.

"But I..."

"No!" Pyrrha turned to face him, her tone solid as a rock, determination in her voice. "You're here because you want to be a huntsman, right? Huntsmen don't get to quit!" When Jaune looked down, his lip quivering, she pressed. "Time and again, you've helped us with our personal issues, held us together when we went spinning apart. You knew Cardin was going to beat the brakes off of you, but you went in there anyway, because you're a leader, and that's the kind of person Jaune Arc is!" Her voice raised high as she walked back in front of him, jabbing a finger at his heart. "Not because some paper says you can, but because in your heart, you cannot stand not to act!" Jaune stared at her with wide eyes, his lips quivering. He'd never seen this side of her. Tears spilled over as his shoulders began to shake. He wanted to break out into a sobbing fit right here in full view of the world. He didn't deserve to have a teammate like this.

"I don't know what happened. I don't care." She said, softer. "You're here now, and you will be a huntsman. Starting today, you and I are going to drill. Relentlessly. It's going to be the hardest time of your academic life, but the next time that asshole tries to knock you down and injure you, gods damn it, you're going to be able to fight back!" By the end of her angry tirade, she had tears of her own trickling down her cheek. "When I came here, I expected to be lobbed up onto a podium, treated as untouchable and unapproachable. But from the very onset, you've treated me like a human, Jaune. You've helped me make friendships that will last a lifetime. For the first time in a long time, I've gotten to just be me. I don't care about whatever it was that caused... this." She dared not say it aloud. "But it doesn't matter. Not anymore. I'm not going to let you go. Just... let me help you. Please..."

The two were quiet for a moment, their eyes locked together as they stared at each other with, teary and compromised. It was hard for either of them to know which one of the two moved first, but the result was the same. Jaune wrapped his arms around Pyrrha's lower back, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. They stepped together, their eyes closed, and they kissed. They allowed themselves the serenity of that moment. For as long as she drew breath, she would be there for him, even when he tried to push her away. And he would toil, day after day, to earn the effort that Pyrrha put into him. They would look out for each other, because that's what friends did. And, evidently, they were somewhere past that point.

Unknown to them, Nora and Ren were emerging from the locker room when they saw the display. Ren locked in place with a sudden grin and wide eyes, Nora making a sound akin to a jet engine starting as she pointed forward, her ears flicking straight up. Ren swiftly cupped a hand around her mouth and yanked the flailing, excited faunus back into the locker room, securing privacy for the new couple.

When they parted their lips, Pyrrha stared into Jaune's eyes. "Let me help you. That's all I ask." She pleaded one last time.

"You got it, Pyrrha..." He smiled fondly at her. The two disentangled and slowly began to walk back towards the dorms, hand-in-hand. "Uh, P? You wanna put all that in a locker?"

"Don't think that kiss gets you out of tonight's training, Jaune." The two chuckled as they went onwards, the sun beginning to dip low in the skies over Beacon. The day was ending, but something far more beautiful had begun.

Chapter Text

Foreman Meyer walked his newest hire through the proud and austere halls of the primary production line, turning to appraise her with a fond smile every so often. The poor girl, a young thing with blonde hair and ocean-deep blue eyes, was a mute. Sure, she couldn't help the cards the gods gave her, but he could appreciate her moxie. She was a girl who wrote extensively during her interview about pulling herself up by her bootstraps, getting to the grind, and committing to a team project with measured loyalty and synergy. A real go-getting girl, and he was here for it. "This is the main production line, where all of our dust is cycled from the extruders in the refinery back through to the packaging and processing. Raw ore comes from mother Atlas, or the colonies," he practically groaned the word out, "and we process it into the good stuff. Dust. Every variety, every type, every way known to man. A marvel of engineering, courtesy of the Schnee Dust Company." He watched as she took in the whirring automated line before her, her eyes wide with wonder. She seemed so... invested. Usually, new hires would smile and nod, but this girl was basking in the glory of the production facility. He pressed his hands together over the buttons of his shirt, smiling. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

The main conveyor moved tons of ore in a rapid pace, before dumping it through a furnace. The bulky furnace would cook the ore over a few minutes, melting the material down. The powder that would eventually become dust filtered through a series of silt screens, while the spillage simply fell away through grates. The refined powder, ready for its infusion, proceeded through an extruder until it was melted together into synthetic crystals. Dust, made manifest in its most useful of manners. The gifts of the gods, provided generously and at a reasonable price by the proud Kingdom of Atlas. All that was missing was the final refinement that would make the dust crystals infused and ready for domestic or military application. "I wish I could see it the way you do: with fresh eyes, for the first time. So much possibility..."

On that, the two could certainly agree. It was the night shift, with minimal workers, allowing the pair unmatched privacy on the catwalk above. Suddenly, the young woman's scroll began to vibrate in her pocket. She lifted a single finger up with an apologetic smile, answering the device with a delicate tap, holding it up to her ear. "Neo, you there?" A man's voice asked through the receiver, calm and confident. Meyer was confused. What use did she have with a scroll if she couldn't talk? And 'Neo'? This girl was named Caroline, what kind of mutation of that name produced such a nickname? She was a new hire, so neo... new in old Argian... But, had she already made the Coldslate Distribution Solutions such a critical part of her identity? "Right. I've got your location through your scroll. They take you to the furnace line yet?" She tapped her knuckle once on the receiver. "Damned good work, Neo. We're dropping in. See you in a wink, doll."

"He seemed... proud... of your first day accomplishments." Meyer said with a strange suspicion in his voice. He didn't have time to process the oddities before he watched, in real time, as those beautiful blue eyes shifted to heterochromia, reflecting a bright pink and rich brown pair of irises. She surged forward, striking him hard in the windpipe with a jab of her hand, before spinning on her right foot to deliver a powerful kick to his chin, laying him out cold.

From the glass windows above, a series of small detonations blew a hole through the roof, a pair of bullhead air transports circling overhead with their nacelles primed down for hover. Ropes came wheeling down from above as teams of black-suited mercenaries repelled down. At the very lead was Roman, easily identifiable in his white cigar suit jacket and black slacks. He swung in a wide arc around his rope, his cane extended. "Gods damn, I love this job..." In a flash, Neo vaulted from her upper level position down before Roman, bowing lowly in a sweep of her arms like an actor before a crowd after a performance. "Neo... you're scarin' me, kid." He said, looking at her work uniform. "A girl with your talents in an SDC uniform? Gah, what would your mother think?" When she delivered a frustrated puff and a slap on his arm, he simply leaned into her on his cane with a smile. "Good work. I mean it. Any security on the perimeter?" Neo shook her head. "Good, good. That makes it easy."

"Alright, everyone, listen up. We got fifteen minutes to grab what we can carry out before this furnace goes sky-high. Truck team, get to the loading docks and load as much as you can into those box trucks. Let's get that paycheck, shall we?" And plunder, they did. The Emergency Stop on the ore intake was pressed, stopping the new material on the line. Roman's people, using a system of lowering and raising baskets, hauled dust by the duffle bag off of the line. Roman sat back and watched, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. "Poke your brain a bit, Neo?" He asked, casually glancing towards his assistant from under the lip of his hat. She turned to face him, silent as always. "I don't get it. When people want to make big money off of a heist, they hit a warehouse, or a retailer. The factory?" She shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, I know. Doesn't make a bit of sense. Even the refined material we pull out of here is gonna be worth... what... one hundred thousand lien? We pulled more in that heist Red tried to bust up." He recalled the operation at From Dust Til Dawn, shaking his head. "Yet our patron's paying us a quarter million for it. I dunno, Neo. It smells."

She looked to the dust as the workers nearly finished, rigging the satchel charges on the furnace, then looked back to Roman. Sure, she didn't speak with words, but Roman always knew what she meant. "Yeah. I agree. This isn't about a profit margin. It's about a message. Still, a little lady like that throwing hundreds of thousands of lien around just to piss of the SDC?" He watched as Neo's eyes darted upwards briefly, a smirk on her face. "Bigger?" She nodded. "What, piss off Atlas as a whole?" She nodded. "Damn..." Roman looked away for a moment, thinking over the prospect. Then, without care, he hefted his cane up. "Men! Tonight, we're revolutionaries! Regular heroes! What a treat, huh?!" A few snorts came, but not other measured reply.

After a while, Roman pulled his timepiece from his coat. "Hm. Hate to cut it short." He reached for his scroll, tapping it a few times. "Teams, this is Kingpin. Truck teams, depart and disperse." He said, referencing the teams that had swiftly plundered the warehouse into the parked trucks at the loading docks. "Demo team, we're go. Everyone get out and get to the warehouse. Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out!" Roman gripped one of the ropes to the bullheads, offering Neo a festoon to hook herself to. "Ladies first."

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"It's a gods damned outrage, James!" Jacques Schnee was fuming as he stormed around his private office, wearing a fine nightshirt and slacks, having stirred from bed at the news of the attack in Vale. The Coldslate Distribution Solutions had been looted and bombed, like some holdover of the old dust raids in the Great War. He watched repeatedly as the holographic display in his office repeated the view of the primary stack of the factory blowing out, smoke billowing as it fell down into the factory itself. The production facility would be down for months during repairs. Then, three employees too stupid to run from the heist had been killed in the collapse, and he would need to compensate their families. He wouldn't want a repeat of Brookstone in Argus...

"I have a Specialist on sight." Ironwood stood before the fuming Schnee patriarch, offering the half-hearted gesture of an investigative element. He was dressed in his full uniform. He had been spending a late night in a long-range call with a person he'd care not to identify when the news came in. "Under the current regulations of the Council, it's the best I can do."

"Horseshit, James!" Jacques protested, slamming his fist into his oak desk hard enough to leave him gripping the mistreated hand. "No, no... This is Vale's fault. That something this big could happen? What happened to that Ozpin fellow! His... 'huntsmen' he loves so damned much! How did this attack slip the net!?" He barked out.

"Councilman Schnee, surely you understand that, no matter how tight a security net, lapses in intelligence will lead to situations like this with passive defense schemes, like the ones Headmaster Ozpin prefers. What matters most is how we, as the Kingdom of Atlas, respond. Now is the time for more... decisive action." He said, shifting his weight as he approached Jacques with a cool, level head. The elder Schnee looked at him with a measured curiosity.

"I'm listening, General." There it was. He had him. Ironwood had gone to great lengths to see this operation through to its end. His most trusted technical advisor, Doctor Arthur Watts, had assured him over and over that he could see this through to completion, and quietly to boot. While Ironwood had neglected to tell Watts why he had commissioned this black op, Watts had been happy to obey. He was a good man, loyal to his kingdom above all else. James could respect that much. And, Watts had in fact managed a network of contacts from his 'less proud' days of organized crime before he turned his life to the service of Atlas, and they'd accomplished the impossible. the Coldslate facility was history.

And just like that, with only three deaths and one angry businessman, he had done what no Atlesian since the Great War had managed. He had established justification for the mobilization of the air fleet. "It's simple, Jacques. You're correct. An on-site Specialist and full investigation is... insufficient. I propose that Vale has become complacent in its security under the Disarmament Treaty. I feel their kingdom could... benefit... from a stronger Atlesian presence."

"The fleet." Jacques said, his cold, blue eyes narrowing slightly, a smirk snaking under his bushy white mustache. James couldn't outright say it, or Jacques might not agree - he often disagreed with James, if only to hear himself do it, and if James had been forced to defend his desired plan too vehemently, he would have revealed his hand. However, he brought him to this point, and persuaded Jacques that his desired outcome was the most appealing one. "You want to mobilize the fleet."

"In five months, the Vytal Festival will begin in Vale. How else can we be sure of its safety, and the safety of Amity Arena and her staff?" Ironwood asked openly, hefting his shoulders with his hands outstretched in a shrug. "My options are limited, Councilman. But if you could talk to the rest of the Council, sir. I know you could sway at least one of them. And then, we put our votes together..." James closed his right hand into a glove-crackling fist. "And attacks like this become a thing of the past."

Jacques nodded enthusiastically. "Thank you, James. You're a good man. I'll lean on my friends in the Council. This time tomorrow, you'll have your blessing. The Schnee Dust Company will not forget this, General Ironwood."

"I should expect nothing less, Councilman Schnee." James smiled, bowing his head gently before seeing himself out. Salem was on the march, he was certain of it. The days of sitting around in stalemate were over. If Ozpin wouldn't go on the offensive, then James would shoulder the burden of history. He would not permit another generation to be massacred to uphold the status quo of inaction...

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It was late when Arthur dragged into his home, barely awake enough to park his car properly before heading inside. At the door, an eager young girl stood to greet him, with shoulder-length copper hair and eyes so green they nearly glowed. She was clad in a simple white dress that served as a suitable match for her pale, white skin. "Sal-u-tations, father! I trust your day at the office was fulfilling?"

"Yes, dear. It was." He smiled with a bleary, tired expression, pulling the synthetic girl into a warm embrace, gently kissing the top of her head. "Now, you know the rules. You need to report for recharge by nine at night. What time is it, Penny?"

The girl stepped back, her eyes pulsing with energy. "It is currently Nine. Oh. Six. PM, Atlas Standard Time." She wilted softly, a frown appearing on her face in an exaggerated manner. Sadly, they still had a lot of tweaking to do with the finer elements of her personality. "Have I performed in a dissatisfactory way, father?"

Watts chuckled, ruffling her synthetic hair. "No, dear. It's perfectly normal for a young girl to stay up late until both of her parents are home. But I'm home, and you need to report to your recharging bay. We'll talk more in the morning, alright?"

"Command acknowledged!" She bounced on her heels, mechanically jerking her right arm up in a salute, before turning about to march deeper into the home. Arthur watched the android depart, sighing in relief. He slowly began his trudge through the house, throwing his thick, black jacket onto a nearby hook before heading to the kitchen. He found a glass in the cupboards before filling the glass with some orange juice from the fridge.

"So, who's the mister?" A rich voice came from around the corner, followed by the tapping of a cane. With a pleased smile, Watts turned to face Pietro Polendina, his muse, his co-signer, his greatest inspiration and the man he was proud to have shared ten years of his life with, in work and in other means.

"A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell, love." Watts bristled his mustache, taking a sip of his orange juice. "But he's tall, stern, most austere... You'd simply dread him." Pietro, in his long, crimson smoking jacket and little else, loomed before Arthur with his weight on his cane. His green eyes looked tired, as tired as Arthur probably felt. However, where Arthur was tired from the constant checking on the black op he'd assisted with, Pietro looked more stressed than anything. "Honey, what's wrong?" Arthur asked, setting his glass down, approaching Pietro in an instant. He wrapped his arms around his side, as if he could heft the man off his cane and back into his youth.

"It's your tall, most austere man. Slowly, Pietro turned to face Arthur with a wide, happy smile, hiding the stress under his eyes. "I had a lovely call with the General. He says a situation has developed in Vale," Watts looked away, before looking back to Pietro. "The General is increasing our budget. But..."

"But..?" Watts probed, raising his left eye.

"He wants to sidestep her personality subroutines and focus on her combat capabilities..." Pietro sighed, peeling his glasses free from his face to rub his forehead.

"Well, I see no reason why we cannot do both." Watts said, only for Pietro to swivel towards him with a surprised, almost hurt look. "Honey?"

"Our daughter? Rigged for battle? Are you serious, Arthur?" He was growing indignant. Arthur let go of Pietro, lifting his arms defensively.

"It's a military contract, love. They were always going to ask for this. So, we give our girl the ability to defend herself. That's not such a sin! Then, when we finish her personality subroutines, we can teach her the values of self-defense over military servitude! It's as I've said from the start, James will not take our baby girl from us, Pietro. I will not let it happen. I swear to the gods above on pain of the hells below..."

And deep down, Watts actually hoped that was true.

Chapter Text

Qrow stood calmly in the elevator as it came crawling up the central tower of Beacon Academy. His mind was slow and steady, gently recalling what little he'd heard over the radio on the way in. There'd been some sort of terrorist attack at a nearby dust distribution facility with ties to the Schnee Dust Company, with recovery efforts ongoing. With a hand run back through his dark hair, leaned against the back wall of the elevator car. Usually, that was where he would allow his weapon to rest. However, as a rule, he tended not to come and see Ozpin armed. Finally, the door hissed open with a musical chime, and Qrow stepped into Ozpin's office. A radio on his desk sat, dutifully reporting the news on a local station. Beyond the desk, where Ozpin and Glynda stood with a stare, was a plume of smoke climbing high into Vale's night sky. Glynda turned, pushing her glasses up as she walked briskly to Ozpin's desk, swiftly turning the radio down. "Qrow. Glad you took your time. Did you at least come sober?"

Qrow spread his arms out with a wide smile. "Come on, Glynda. You know me." His words were gruff and slurred together, however his white and grey shirt revealed no stains. At least he was functionally drunk. Qrow approached the window, standing to Ozpin's left. The Headmaster sipped at his coffee, staring at the smoke. The three were dead silent, banter falling away immediately. Finally, it was Qrow who spoke again. "Jimmy's gonna have a cow..."

"Assuming James does not already know." Glynda said, casting a sideways glance towards Ozpin and Qrow. "A report from the Vale Security Force shows their bullheads lingering on station for fifteen minutes, and any amateur with a radio hobby could hear them on their unencrypted channel."

"So, Oz? Think this is Her?" Qrow asked, gesturing a ringed finger to the glass before him. Ozpin slowly shook his head, but didn't verbally speak on the matter. The truth was that he was sure it wasn't, but at the same time, it was still a major breach of security that he would need to address. After all, if somebody as sloppy as these people could do it, She easily could strike them at any moment. A part of him wondered then if it was her, and this was a probing effort.

"I trust the on-site Atlas personnel to handle the matter well enough. All the same, I will dispatch a team to assist with the recovery tomorrow." Ozpin noted. The three of them turned from the smoke plume in the distance to the sight of a pair of students on the rooftop of the dorms, fighting. At first, Glynda began to backstep, reaching for her scroll... only to stop when she looked close enough to recognize the pair. It was Miss Nikos and Mister Arc, on yet another late-night training session. She relaxed her stance, watching the two spar. It was heated, that much was sure. Pyrrha was giving him no quarter, but already she could see that he was doing far better than he did in the combat class the other day. But still...

"The city is ablaze, and they're sparring." Glynda sighed.

"What do you want 'em to do, Glynda? They aren't children." Qrow turned to face Glynda with a confused expression on his semi-drunk face. "Their city got bombed, but we aren't letting 'em loose to do anything about it. So they're drilling. Did you forget we're training warriors here?"

Glynda's eyes narrowed in acute dissatisfaction with his tone. Her eyes then turned back to Ozpin. "I'd been meaning to speak with you about Mister Arc, actually." When Ozpin turned about and paced back to his desk, Glynda and Qrow went to the other side, sitting in the pair of seats before his desk. "I've done some digging into his background based on his performance lately... Headmaster, I have reason to believe that Jaune Arc forged his application transcript."

"You would be correct in your assessment." Ozpin said with a pleased smile on his face. "I have to admit - you figured it out faster than I expected you to." When Glynda stared at him in complete surprise, he offered her a dismissive wave of the hand. "I review every transcript to this Academy with my own eyes. Did you honestly expect something like that would slip past me?"

"If the brat snuck his way in, why'd you let him stay?" Qrow asked, leaning in with a bit of intrigue. "Jules would have your head on Cross... crux... whatever he named that damned sword." Jules Arc had been the fourth member of their inner circle. When he died, and Ozpin replaced him with Ironwood, the replacement process didn't take long to reveal that Jules Arc simply couldn't be replaced.

"Crocea Mors." Glynda corrected, fondly remembering the blade, and the man who had wielded it. They had practically been siblings from a very young age. When Jules gave his life at Mountain Glenn, it had started a period that she mentally considered the Spiral. It wasn't long after Jules died that Amber went rogue, after all...

"Whatever. Oz, you're gonna get that kid killed..." Qrow looked at him, quite confused as to why he would let a forged transcript past.

Ozpin leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk. "His combat was lacking, certainly. However, his academic performance is unmatched. He has the head, but he stalls in a fight. His instructors were quick to label him a coward on his transcript, but... I believe it is something else. I had faith he would develop into a natural leader here, and so far, I am not disappointed."

"He has not once employed his semblance. He went down in a few blows to Cardin Winchester, one of our other bottom-performers." Glynda countered. "He is a danger to his team."

"He is the heart of his team." Ozpin countered quickly, yet gently. He typed for a moment at his desk, a projection showing the performance of Team JNPR at their last few semesters of high school. All certainly met Beacon standards, but they could have been better. That was, except Jaune, who had nearly flawless academic performance - and failing combat classes. Across the board, since arriving at Beacon, Jaune's academic performance remained about the same, but all three of the others saw noteworthy improvements. In addition, while still below a passing grade, Jaune's combat scores were improving. "So, we will let him toil. We will let him grow. And we will see what awaits us on the other side of that development. I believe he may simply have been stunted early in his training by the fate of his father. I know that Mister Arc is not a coward. Trust his team to lift him up, just as he lifts them."

Glynda shook her head. "It is a complicating factor, especially if we are still considering Miss Nikos for Operation Amber. We saw where attachments led her..." Glynda trailed off, a sorrowful look on her face. Despite biting at her whenever he got the chance, Qrow seemed to relent and place a hand on the satin blouse of her shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault." Qrow offered, steadily, turning a glance to Ozpin, who stared directly at them both with a neutral expression.

"It is her similarities to Amber that attract me to the idea. And this time, we will play our cards closer to the chest. If we handle this right, she will not make the same set of mistakes that led her down Amber's path." Ozpin spoke softly, a detachment in his voice. "Besides, we also have a warrior of silver eyes at our disposal. I have not had both in play at the same time in many incarnations."

Qrow was on his feet in a moment. "Absolutely not, Oz!"

"She has silver eyes, Qrow. I am sorry, but you cannot hide from that forever. Someday, the wrong people will notice, and Miss Rose will wish she'd been taught how to use her powers." Qrow was still on his feet, his left ankle bouncing in place as he considered the implication of his own niece being used in the War Unending. He sighed, sitting down in his chair once more - placated, but not happy. "Just as I take no delight in placing the burden of Maidenhood upon Miss Nikos, I take no pleasure in placing the burden of Miss Rose's heritage upon her. However, their mutual arrival presents us a golden opportunity."

"If the Fall Maiden wields the relics, and a silver-eyed warrior fights at her side..." Glynda thought, looking away with a sudden gasp, her eyes widening. "We have a chance."

"At least, a better one than we have had in generations." Ozpin nodded. "Unfortunately, that brings me to my next topic. I regret to tell you both that this body is failing." Ozpin said it so casually. After all, what was death to a figure that was set for reincarnation? "Inconvenient timing for an otherwise perfect hand to play, I know. However, the doctor is quite sure. I have less than five years to live in this iteration."

"It was all that smoking when we were young, Oz." Qrow chastised with a sad smirk. "I kept tellin' ya to stop it, but no... you just had to keep puffin' away."

"I was rather scared of the voices in my head, at first. Nothing quite dulled it like those cigarettes." Ozpin chuckled dryly. "I do hope I do not retain that desire in my next life. However, to the point, we must begin the process of succession."

Glynda looked away sadly. Qrow raised his flask up towards Ozpin, a salute to the man. The three of them remained there in silence for quite a long while...

A silence quite unlike the fierce swordfight happening on the rooftop of the dorm. Pyrrha was hard on the attack, forcing Jaune to make the most of his defense. When they'd begun this drill, she'd made a show of telegraphing her attack direction, but he'd improved a lot since then. "Good. Good!" She called out as, when she twirled into a feint, he didn't bite and instead had his shield in the proper spot for the genuine attack. "Switch!"

Now, Jaune, panting and sweating, pushed forward against Pyrrha, keeping his shield up. He learned early on that the champion would mix her own attacks in when it was his turn, testing his defense. His feet moved forward, the sneakers squeaking against the rooftop as he kept his steps short and steady. He swept a few wide swings out at Pyrrha, his goal to get her to favor the wide arc with her shield. Finally, on the fourth, he switched it up with a lunge, clashing with Milo and barely, just barely, scraping her knuckle. He smiled, pleased with himself before catching a Milo-clasping fist to the side of his shoulder, knocking him off-balance. "GAH!"

"Focus!" Pyrrha said with a giggle. Jaune was so easy to excite, and she was happy for him, but she couldn't afford to go easy. Well... too easy. She wasn't running at tournament speed, that was for sure. The two paused to change spaces as Jaune got closer to the edge of the rooftop, letting the drill continue. For now, it was just taking turns driving each other back. They had only been going for about an hour, and they had an hour more to go. When Pyrrha returned home from her job with Weiss in the school kitchen, she drilled him relentlessly until she simply had to stop in order to do her own assignments and sleep. Jaune wondered how she ever actually got any sleep...

A question Ren was also wondering about himself as Nora rambled on and on about the terrible nightmare she'd had, flapping her arms about while laying in her bed, ears pinned straight back. It was a little after one in the morning, and Nora had woken up with a terrible scream. Now, he was about thirty minutes into hearing a long winded rant. "Jaune had this terrible haircut, a-and you wouldn't talk to me at all, even at a night club that played really, really good music, and there was a giant grimm whale that tried to EAT ATLAS!" She shrieked out.

A firm pounding came from the wall beside her, silencing her screaming in an apologetic whimper.

Ren sighed. "That's ridiculous. How would a grimm whale even get out of the water and up to Atlas?"

"It flew with these little stubby wings!" Nora flapped her arms, instantly forgetting the knocking neighbor.

Ren sighed. "Go back to bed... please..." He rolled over once again. "With the bombing down town, we'll be very busy tomorrow. We need our sleep. I promise, it'll be alright... There are no grimm whales, and I personally promise to keep Jaune from restyling his hair without my express approval on the style." Ren locked eyes with Nora, offering a tired, but reassuring smile. "And I would definitely talk to you in a night club with really good music."

"Ren?" Nora asked, drawing a sigh from the very tired man.

"...Yes, Nora?"

"...Good night." She said, wanting to say more. However, she couldn't quite force herself to build up the nerves. The two shared one last smile before Ren rolled over in his bed, closing his eyes.

"Good night, Nora." When Ren said it, Nora slowly reached for the lamp, turning the lights off.

Chapter Text

Ren's eyes snapped awake at the banging of kitchenware and a pair of dueling voices. He took a long, deep breath, the world still coming into frame as he brushed his hair from his eyes. He pushed himself from his bed, finding Jaune mere feet from him, slamming a rolling pin against a pan. "Jaune. I love you. I value you. I consider you a brother." He said neutrally, before his soft, pink, bloodshot eyes narrowed. "That had better not be my fine cookware."

Jaune stared back at him, beating the skillet twice more for good measure. "Up and at 'em! Come on, Ren! Nora's already awake, and most of Team Ruby is already up and mustered!" Ren suddenly remembered the night before. The loud explosion at the dust production refinery. He quickly rolled from his bed, fumbling to slide into his school uniform in a practiced motion. Content that Ren was up and moving, Jaune rushed over to Pyrrha's bed. She was, despite all the noise, still sprawled out on her bed, the sheet folded open but her atop it, implying she never quite made it that far. At least she'd gotten into pajamas. Jaune imagined sleeping in her armor probably hurt. All the same, he felt only a pang of pity for his sleeping girlfriend, before resuming the beating of the skillet. He saw her mop of burgundy hair move ever so slightly, watched her left hand gently and lazily raise, then watched in terror as the skillet began to shimmer, then crunched in on itself, totally crushed.

"JAUNE!" Ren barked out, watching in horror as his skillet fell to the ground. He looked at Jaune with an offended, indignant gaze. "I'm blaming you for that, not her. You will replace that." Jaune looked down to his rolling pin, which Ren deftly snatched back, leveling it at Jaune. "You will replace that." He repeated for emphasis, then made is way to the door, sliding his shoes on as he fastened the buttons of his shirt, stepping into the hall. Jaune groaned, deciding to leave Pyrrha behind. After all, she was far too tired to be useful for the mission. When Jaune made it to the hall, he found Teams RWBY and JNPR in a motley state of dress.

"I would like to thank all of you for mustering with such a rapid pace. As many of you know, there was a major attack downtown last night. And, as huntresses in training at Beacon Academy, you know what this means."

"Yeah, we're gonna get to go downtown and whoop some serious bad guy butt!" Yang yipped out, pumping a fist into the air with a flashed smile. Nora cheered along, and the twin balls of chaos lunged into the middle of the hallway for a swift high-five, before returning to their teams.

"Psssh, no!" Ruby declared, her hands on her hips as she stared at Yang like she'd sprouted a second head. "No, they've got Team Coffee on it. We're first semester. What it means is that the whole school is going into a security lockdown at five pm today, when Team Coffee returns from their field work. We have until then to stock up all the supplies we need for..." Ruby stopped at her end of the line, turning to give the teams a sinister look, rubbing her hands together. "Hell Week."

Weiss bristled with panic. "Oh... Oh no! I'd completely forgotten!" Weiss scrambled back towards the RWBY dorm, Blake giving chase behind her with a muffled cry to wait.

"Hell week?" Ren asked, wincing as he looked towards Nora, who shrugged with a confused expression.

"You know, I talk and I talk, and I just feel like you three-" Jaune pointed at the empty, thin air to Ren's left. "Yes, her too - you just don't listen. Hell Week, guys! The week of exams and combat drills that come out to about a quarter of our total semester grade for literally all of our classes? I've brought this up, like, so many times!"

Pyrrha came groggily into the hall, still hidden under her loose tangle of hair. "S'happening..?" She mumbled out.

"Hell Week, I guess?" Nora offered.

Immediately, as if shot through the heart, Pyrrha jolted to full height. "Hell Week! The lockdown! Gods, we hardly have time!" And, she was gone again, retreating back into the dorm with a muffled flurry of profanities.

"Well, she listens." Jaune smirked, glancing back at Nora and Ren.

Ren rubbed his eyes, crossing his arms. "Right. So, the Academy campus is closing down inside-outside access before all of our exams this week. And that warrants being chased out of bed at..." He rifled through his pockets, pulling out his scroll. "Eight? Are you kidding?"

"Oh, right! Because the campus commissary has all of those fancy cooking oils and wines that you use?" Jaune asked, raising an eyebrow, then looked towards Nora. "And they definitely have all of the junk food that isn't overcharged in some random vending machine that occasionally snacks on your lien without giving you yours?"

Ren sighed, nodding his head. "Right. I see your point." He didn't fully, but he had to admit, he had no idea how long the shutdown would last, and he didn't want to resort to the mediocre cafeteria food when he could cook better on his own.

"Hey, Ren, Jaune said cooking wine?" Yang asked from across the hall. "I'm headed to Cabooze, an upscale liquor store downtown. I'm sure they've got a good selection, and I might need some... assistance."

"Sounds like a plan." Ren nodded in agreement, returning to his dorm to get ready.

"Nora, you'll be coming with Ruby and I. We have a lot of supplies to pick up, and I want to make sure we can get it all back into the skybus." Jaune nodded sagely.

"Yeah. I asked Weiss, and he she said a lot of words that my Uncle Qrow made me promise never to use." Ruby shook her head in disgust. Nora sighed, not eager to spend the day hauling groceries. But, at least she'd been wanted.

A half hour later or so, when the team had finished donning their school uniforms and sourcing a skybus, the teams had successfully deployed into their area of operation. Ren and Yang had split off to acquire 'cooking wines'. Jaune wasn't surprised Ren was after cooking wine, the man was a certified legend as a chef. But in his two months at Beacon, he couldn't recall a single instance where he'd seen anyone on Team RWBY, let alone Yang, cook. Pyrrha, Blake and Weiss had taken charge of the study aid team, heading to a nearby bookstore to secure a few of the textbook study aids that tended to sell in these charming post-secondary cities Huntsman Academies called home. That left Jaune and Ruby to take care of the task they'd assigned themselves - supplies. Jaune spoke up first when the three of them were the last to leave the skybus stop. "Hey, so... Ruby, what were the supplies?"

Ruby blinked a few times, turning to stare back at Jaune. "I... told you to make a list?"

"What?!? When?!?" Jaune gasped, jerking back from Ruby with a mortified expression. "Gods! What supplies do we even need?!?"

"Oh, uh study guides!" Ruby pointed out. "Wait... no... Sub-Team Peanut Butter is on that!" She flailed her arms. "This is a disaster! A catastrophe!"

"Why don't we just get groceries?" Nora asked between the two of them, feeling a small little smile hook onto her face as the two leaders struggled. "I'd assumed that's why you needed the extra hands, anyway."

"Right! Ramen, a-and potato chips!" Jaune barked out as Ruby fumbled around her skirt pockets for her scroll, pulling the device out as she began to type out a frantic list. "Soda! Wait, no, energy drinks!"

"Oh, and those little packets you sprinkle in water so it doesn't taste like water!" Ruby continued typing. Nora held in a sigh, wondering if the other groups were having it this bad.

Around this time, Weiss, Blake and Pyrrha had made it to the bookstore that Blake had suggested - Tukson's Book Trade. It was a very basic looking store, with a big, green sign that featured the name in elevated golden text. The inside was even more basic - rows and rows of books on deep, brown wooden shelves. When the trio stepped inside. Pyrrha's eyes scanned the shelves and every category. Finally, by the back corner, her eyes landed on something that caught her eye - a whole rack devoted to the latest releases, and classic collections, of various comic books. Doom Book, Fist of the Rising Sun, even Day Five - all of them glistened her in narrow focus until Weiss pulled her by the arm with a tug. "Come on, Pyrrha. The sooner we get these study guides, the sooner we can make sure Ruby doesn't blow our team budget on snack foods."

As Blake and Weiss worked diligently, getting pairs of each of the yellow guides released for each of the academic classes they took - most were on par with local colleges that didn't specialize in monster-killing, so there was a surprising amount of overlap - Pyrrha found her gaze drifting back to the comics every now and again. She'd quickly snap her eyes away, but before long, she would find herself staring over at the covers again. Pyrrha had quite the secret stash of comics in her dorm, hidden under her bed. Each night, when she was certain her team was asleep, she'd sneak one out from the gap between her bed and the wall, reading under the dim light of her scroll's illumination. However, hers were all older ones, holdovers from a different life. Following her transition, she hadn't updated any of her collection. Worse, some of them were beginning to fall apart from frequent use. "Pyrrha?" Blake asked, jolting Pyrrha from her longest session of staring. "If you'd rather go look at the--"

"No! It's quite alright!" She quickly slid back into her well-worn guise of excessively formal niceties, giving an overly-large smile and a thumbs up. "Just... still a little tired, is all!"

Weiss and Blake shared a quick glance, and this time Weiss spoke up. "You're a terrible liar. I'm sure this whole 'smile and nod' routine works with your team, or they're good at pretending it does, but it's plain as day that you'd rather be over there." Weiss shrugged. "So... go over there. Blake and I have this covered. It's really not that big of a deal."

Pyrrha wilted. "It... is." She huffed a sigh, looking away. "When I... transitioned, I cast a lot of my old interests aside. Things I used to really light up with passion for that came off as masculine, I discarded. I was afraid that any slight interest I showed that wasn't necessarily conforming to the gender identity I'd come out as... you know..."

Blake stared at her with a look of sympathy. "You were afraid to show interest in anything you liked before you told the world you were a girl, or else people would think you were pretending." Pyrrha nodded. Blake wanted to speak up, but Weiss spoke up first in her typical, nasally bluntness.

"No wonder you seem like such a boring, lifeless person."

"What?!?" Pyrrha lit up, her cheeks dusting red with a blush as her eyes shook with indignation.

"Think about it. You were always a girl, right? You just had to work up the nerve to tell everyone, right?" When Pyrrha nodded along with Weiss, she slapped a hand on the table. "Then guess what? That girl liked comics, and whatever else you liked. Please... Please tell me you haven't been hiding all of your interests for four years..."

Blake side-eyed Weiss, then spoke up. "It's not how I would have put it, but... she's right. Interests and hobbies aren't gendered. You fought so hard to liberate yourself in front of the world, but you're shackling yourself all over again. So... what else do you like?" Weiss glanced over to Blake, then back to Pyrrha with a nod. Come to think of it, all they really knew about Pyrrha was that she fought really, really well, and was overly kind. That really wasn't that much of a picture.

"Well..." She felt a second away from asking if Weiss or Blake would judge her, but instead decided to press on. There was no turning back now. "I really like romance movies. Orchestral music is nice, as well. I love jogging." She rattled out. "But... comics were my first love. Going to different worlds, seeing ideal people doing heroic deeds. It was inspiring."

Weiss nodded along approvingly, before tapping her right index finger on the table a few times. "Right. We're not progressing with our class work until you get up, go to that rack, and pick five comic books that catch your eye. If money's an issue, I'll help you. But you're going to get those books, and we're going to sit her and wait." After a delay, Pyrrha nodded, slowly rising to face one of the tougher fights of her life. Weiss and Blake were right. Liking the things she liked before, and even newer interests that weren't necessarily the stereotype of femininity didn't make her less of a woman, just like any other woman who liked those things. She'd come out as Pyrrha to be free, and live her own life. That included special interests and hobbies. As she crossed the gap, a smile came to her, the last of her nerves vacating her as she approached the shelf and began to search for the ones she liked. A few were newer issues of ones she'd read in her youth, others were newer releases she'd never seen before. She'd always been afraid of the world stripping her validation from her, but now she realized that all she truly needed was to validate herself.

Meanwhile, Yang was hard at work filling her cart with alcohol. "And that's the fifth bottle you've put in the basket that is, most decidedly, not cooking wine." Ren said, staring at Yang as she continued to fill her small cart with a merry whistle. Cabooze was a very run-of-the-mill liquor store in the nicer part of downtown Vale, but to Ren, Yang looked like she might as well be digging around a gas station selection of cheap beers.

"Who knows how long we'll be locked up in Beacon for?" Yang asked with a playful smirk, adjusting her glasses as she continued to dig around for booze.

"This... isn't healthy." Ren asked with a bit of a worried tone. "Yang, if I may..."

Yang rolled her eyes. "I don't drink to dull a problem, if that's what you're getting at. I like to have fun and loosen up. We won't get to forever, you know."

Ren blinked. "Oh." He said, rubbing his arm gently. "I'm sorry, I just..."

"You worry too much." Yang replied, shoving another bottle into the cart, offering Ren a fond smile. "I know what it looks like, but this is for all of us. For however long the lockdown is. So... need a hand finding that cooking wine?"

Ren gave an appreciative nod. "Yes, thanks." Before the awkward exchange could carry further, Ren's scroll beeped. "Ah, it seems our leaders have completed their objectives. Jaune texted me that Nora helped them pick out a variety of groceries." Ren sighed. "And a pan for me."

Yang smiled. "Hey, they may be the leaders, but we all know we're the ones who make it happen." The two allowed a mutual chuckle before making their way to the check-out. "Wait, what happened to your pan?"

"He better have bought me a decent one..." Ren noted quietly, sidestepping Yang's question.

Chapter Text

Team Juniper was hard at work, having turned their dorm into something of a nerve center. Papers were pinned to the walls in small, yet sprawling webs around the yellow laminated, taped-in-place sheets of study aides, which served as reminders as to what was most likely to appear on a test in that correlating subject. Their physical workspace was fairly cramped - they were down to two desks, having never gotten the other two back from Team Ruby. Regardless, they made it work well enough by forcing the two desks together while pulling their chairs up to sit on either end. The layout wasn't the problem, per se, the work at hand was.

Tomorrow was to be their first major exam, with Professor Oobleck's history exam being considered one of the hardest barricades to first-semester students. While Beacon Academy tended not to use the practice of "weeding out" students, save for in combat studies, Professor Ooblek was infamous for designing a test so strenuous that one might think he was trying to make his students fail. And so, the team had split their resources accordingly, dividing the four major modules of the semester between themselves in what they believed they had the most passion for, hoping to make the gathering of notes an easier prospect. Jaune had taken the end of the Great War, actually somewhat excited to lead his team's study efforts in that regard - his grandfather, Charles Arc, having been quite a noteworthy figure from the waning days of the war. Ren took The Agonies, the series of blistering shadow-wars that had led to the collapse of many settlements and small towns throughout Vale and Mistral as a result of unchecked grimm populations in the wake of the negativity birthed in the Great War. Pyrrha had opted to cover the Argus Rising, the failed attempt of the former city-state to secede from its Atlesian colonizers, however she had promptly fallen asleep on her book - worn far too thin by her work and school demands. Nobody disturbed her, as they were all fairly confident that she had been born with a speech on the subject imprinted in her brain. Even Jaune could get through most of the basics in a quick checklist, and he considered himself fairly apolitical as Argians went. That had left Nora with the Third Crusade, otherwise known as the 'Faunus War' among humans who dismissed it as little more than petulant ingrates biting the hand that fed. When Jaune had tasked her with the study, Jaune had assumed she'd excel in the material due to her personal dog in the race - no slight at her wolf ears intended.

And yet, as Jaune and Ren wrote, and Pyrrha snored, Nora simply stared forward at her notes on the matter. They were disappointingly basic. 'No Faunus rights. Terror attacks. Humans afraid. Faunus rights - except in Atlas.' No, Oobleck would demand more from them than that. Finally, with a surrendering groan, Nora looked up at her teammates. "Guys, can we switch topics?"

"Hm?" Ren asked, looking up at Nora. "Nora, this is your history. It's very important you know this, and not just for a grade."

"Oh yeah? Then tell me what the Faunus War was about then, smarty-pants!" She yelped indignantly at Ren, her ears pinning back. Ren looked away uncomfortably, and Nora allowed a triumphant smirk to snap across her face. "AHAH!" The sudden yelling stirred Pyrrha, who snapped awake, adjusted her golden diadem and quickly set about writing as if she hadn't been asleep for the better part of an hour. Jaune watched his partner continue along like a wind-up toy as if she'd faced no interruption, exactly as he thought she could, then looked back to Nora.

"It was a pretty big deal for the Kingdom of Mistral and the founding of Menagerie. How do neither of you know much about it? I mean, did you pay attention that day in class, didn't you?" As Jaune asked his question, Nora and Ren recalled having both missed that class - Nora feigning sickness and Ren keeping her company. It had been a sore subject for her. She had been afraid of being the only visible faunus in a class all about the faunus and the time they got a bit too uppity and started killing. Especially knowing Cardin and his clowns were skulking around in the classroom. Ren had stayed out to comfort her, but now was realizing that indulging her in her desires to not engage with the uncomfortable history of her kind had been quite the wrong move. Jaune looked around the table, then an idea sparked in his mind. While they could likely walk her through the gist of it, there was somebody far better suited for this topic. Jaune stood, smiling. "Nora, come with me a minute?" Nora stood, following Jaune to the door of their room. They stepped into the hall, and already Nora had a sinking suspicion of where this was going.

"I'm still not very happy with her." Nora said, her demeanor dropping into deadly serious again. "We're never going to be friends. I really wish you guys would stop trying to force it."

"Just listen to her. She'll explain it better than anyone else on either of our teams will." Jaune knocked on the door.

"FUCK OFF!" Yang's booming, flustered voice came through the door.

"It's Jaune and Nora! Can we borrow Blake for a few minutes?" There was a shuffling noise, like bedsheets being strewn about. Jaune winced. Team Ruby had been studying, hadn't they?

"This had better be damned good..." Blake opened the door with an irritated tone and disheveled hair, sporting a black nightdress, her cat ears straight up and uncovered, a signal of immense irritation for the faunus. Through the door, Jaune could make out Yang, completely covered up to her face in the blankets of her bed, staring at them with wide, nervous eyes. Jaune's expression wilted. Ah, Yang and Blake had been studying anatomy and physiology. Gods knew where Ruby and Weiss were off to - hopefully a library where they were at least studying for their lovebird teammates. "Jaune? Nora?" Blake asked when an uncomfortable silence had formed over the space between them.

"Blake, Nora had some questions about the Third Crusade. We were hoping you'd help her with it." Blake looked back to Yang on the bed, who rolled her eyes and nodded. She turned back to Nora, not addressing Jaune on the matter.

"I'd be happy to help. Want to come inside?" She asked, offering the best smile she could muster in the wake of her disappointment.

"I, uh..." By the time Nora looked to her team leader for guidance, he was already slamming the Team Juniper door shut, a clicking lock indicating she was marooned here. "Yeah..." She relented, stepping into the messy room. Team Ruby's dorms were somewhat whimsical to Nora. She liked the terribly-made, definitely-unsafe bunkbeds, noted the strewn clothing all over the floor from days without care, and quite the large collection of alcohol simply labeled with a white notecard that read 'NOT FOR RUBY'. She tried to guess whose bunk was whose, but it proved a difficult task with all the clutter. When the door shut and afforded them privacy, Yang sat up to reveal she was in just her undergarments, and she went to fish around the floor for a suitable shirt and pants, relieved Jaune had not followed Blake and Nora inside. "Sorry for interrupting." Nora winced at the display, finally picking up what had been going on in here.

"It's fine. This is very important." Blake motioned for Nora to sit anywhere, and she opted to sit on the bed across from where Blake and Yang had been 'researching bumblebees'. Blake sat on Yang's bed, joined by Yang once she'd found her way into a yellow tanktop and grey sweats. "So... Tell me what you know about the Third Crusade, and I'll try to fill in the gaps." Nora shuffled awkwardly, and a look of horror filled Blake's eyes. "You don't know a thing about it, do you?" Nora seemed surprised. She'd expected basic, mundane shock like the glance she'd gotten from Jaune. She was surprised to see Blake looking at her almost with a pained, hurt look. Yang suddenly looked a lot less irritated by the interruption to their intimacy.

"I'll go get us some tea." She said, standing up. She knew it was going to be a long talk, but one that dearly needed to happen. And, if nothing else, this would likely bring Nora and Blake that much closer to being free from Nora's one-sided hatred of the Belladonnas. Yang ruffled Blake's hair as she passed, moving to slide on some slippers before leaving down the hall.

"It started just after the end of the Great War, forty years ago..."

------

Kala Aasha stepped down from the train car, bristling in the cold. She tugged her trench coat tighter around her, her field pack jostling on her back with the extra weight of the company's cookware. Her thoughts, as always, lingered to her husband and their children back home. When the war started, and their family had been called to serve the Kingdom of Mistral, she had volunteered to be the one to go do to Henry's disability. Knowing faunus were often tasked with the deadliest fronts of the war, she had volunteered for the more dangerous and daring assignments - anything to earn just a few extra lien for her family before she bought the bullet.

But here she was, a decade later and still alive, by the grace of the gods above. Her boots, worn nearly through the sole, sank into the mud as she walked to a large wooden platform where a few human officers had gathered, ready to address the brave, faunus soldiers of Mistral. The war had been lost, but all the same, faunus enlistment had come with the guarantee of generous pensions and, perhaps, representation in Mistral's government. Tens of thousands of faunus had died hoping to make Mistral a homeland for their kind. There hopes were to be shattered when the colonel at the head of the stage spoke up into his bullhorn. "Hear ye, one and all! I speak on behalf of the noble and just King Wu of Mistral, long may he reign! It is with severity and anguish that the King informs you all that he is most disappointed with your failings in the war that has defined the finest moments, and deepest failures of our mighty Kingdom! Effective immediately, all pensions to faunus personnel are withheld!" The colonel narrowed his eyes. "We put you animals at the front to give you the chance to earn your freedom! To prove you were worth more than menial labor! You repay us with a shattered empire and crushing defeat at the hands of the mongrels of Vale! A disgrace, the whole lot of--"

A bullet ripped through the air, striking the human in the chest. He fumbled back as a sheet of crimson covered his fine coat, the bullhorn falling from his gloved hand. Kala stared daggers at him, her rifle raised in her hands, her trembling hands on the trigger and stock, tears streaming from her eyes. The very notion that the humans would dare blame her kind for the loss, when they'd shouldered the brunt of the casualties struck her to the core. "Brothers! Sisters! Stand with me! No more! NO MORE!" She screamed into the rainy sky. The human officers on the platform scrambled to get away as the faunus soldiers, who'd given everything for their kingdom, charged them.

------

"It was the final straw. Thirty-seven thousand faunus, most of whom served in dangerous frontline positions, were denied the very thing they'd enlisted to fight for. Before then, faunus were not allowed to join Mistral's military. The upper classes feared what thousands of armed, trained, and battle-hardened faunus could do. The desperation of the Great War had made them forget that, but not for long." Blake explained, with Nora at the edge of her seat.

"But they denied them their pay? Just... like that?" She snapped her right hand's fingers.

"Just like that. We were considered subhuman. The salaries they fought for weren't seen as payment for service, but a charity to a lower, unworthy class." Blake nodded as she spoke. Yang returned with the tea, giving one saucer to Blake and one to Nora, sitting beside Blake. "They called it the Terminus Riot. Fifty-seven people were killed, and Kala Aasha was hanged by the neck for high treason." Nora had expected to hear that she'd gone on to lead a successful revolt, but her heart seemed to shatter at learning how the movement had died before it had even really started. Blake gave her a sympathetic pause. "She was a good soldier, and a determined under-officer. Her comrades called her the White Fang of Seoyuri, on account of her tenacity in trench sweeping." Nora's misty eyes widened in recognition, her mouth falling agape. "Yes. That's where the name came from."

"But... she died." Nora said, sadly looking into her tea.

"She was murdered on the eighth day of the new year, thirty-nine years ago. But her soul, her defiance lived on."

------

"Brothers and sisters! Stand with me!" A booming voice called in the midst of a crowded tavern, deep in the rural south of the Kingdom of Mistral. He had thick, black hair, and the physique of a boxer. That was because he was a boxer, and a fighter by his trade. Vihaan Belladonna had spent most of his life fighting in the ring, or fighting in battle on the fields of the Great War. Now, he stood before a hundred furious faunus. In all his days, he'd never imagined so many would rise up as one. The Second Crusade, the last time the faunus had rallied together, had been nearly five hundred years ago. He wondered if those heroes, who had seen to the end of slavery in three of the four kingdoms, would be smiling down on their descendants in this moment. "For too long, we've been exploited! Pushed down and aside! No more! They may have hanged Aasha, but the White Fang lives on! Today, we stand tall, and we choose to carry the fight! In the railyards of Terminus, the streets of Mistral City, the very hills and remote mountains if we must!" As his thundering voice echoed through the tavern, people stomped in approval with his words.

"Fifty-nine thousand! That's how many faunus the Kingdom of Mistral took from us! That's how many mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters won't be coming home for the Dawning Year! That's how many families have been ripped assunder for the wars of humans! But in that quagmire, in that pit of despair, we learned how to fight! The proof being that we're still here!" Tears kissed his cheeks as he lifted a fist into the air. "We can fight back! Now, better than ever before! We can fight, and we can win!"

He leveled his finger to the front doors of the tavern. "Brothers and Sisters, today is the birth of a new movement! The White Fang! Join me, answer the call in your blood to answer for the injustice of our plight! March with me to the Shiawasena Post Office! Dig in with me, and demand they move us or give us our freedom!" He hopped down from the bartop, collected his rifle from the counter, and moved towards the door. As those inside moved to follow him, he found a legion more standing outside. Faunus in civilian garb, tattered rags, dirty soldiers' uniforms, a menagerie of faunus diverse in every background and creed, but united today. Because this was the final line. They would be pushed no further. As the mob marched down the street, and humans ran inside to lock their doors and hide, they carried a proud song in the air, a lament sadly written a century prior about faunus servitude.

------

"They occupied the post office?" Nora asked, tilting her head slightly. "That's... a strange target..."

"Back in those days, the CCT network hadn't been established yet." Blake chuckled as she continued her history lesson. "Post offices in rural communities served as invaluable communication hubs, using runners and telegrams to send messages across the kingdom. They could have occupied the local governor's estate if they wanted temporary, local reprieve. But Vihaan Belladonna wanted to tell the world what he'd done. And... he did. They took the post office without a fight - their numbers were vast enough that the huntsmen defending the building simply left. They stood vigil and held the building closed, all the while those who had been messengers in the war got to work on the telegram machines. Before long, news of the Shiawasena Uprising had spread far and wide. Before the Kingdom could slow the message, sympathy movements were forming in other towns and cities." Blake smiled. "It even inspired non-faunus revolutionaries. The Argus Rising happened around this time, with the exact same tactic."

"And... like in Argus, they were cornered off and killed?" Nora winced. She'd had anticipated this ending when she'd heard about Kala Aasha's hanging. She felt surprise and relief when Blake smiled and shook her head.

"No." She said, proudly. "Some local uprisings faced resistance. Some were forced from their holdings. Some were killed to the last, yes. But most of the post offices remained occupied and transmitting. The message of the White Fang became too big to silence, and many more faunus were joining the cause with every passing day. Before long, it was rumored that the standing army of humans within Mistral was smaller than the collection of faunus who had risen to fight them, if it came to that. King Wu was in a position where he had to choose between a civil war he wasn't prepared to fight right on the heels of the Great War's end, and finally relenting to the demands of the White Fang."

"What were their demands?" Nora asked softly.

"Their payment, firstly. Secondly, self-autonomy, as was promised. The King granted both, paying every faunus soldier, and the families of those who fell, all the while ceding a large island off the southern coast of the Kingdom to be governed however the faunus wished." Blake nodded her head as she finished.

Nora, however, looked outraged, standing to her feet. "So, the king gave them everything they wanted, and they're still a bunch of family-killing terrorists to this day? It sounds like all he did was enable them to use violence to get their way!"

Blake had expected a reaction like this. To most, especially humans, that's where the story ended. But it was more complicated than that. She took a deep breath, Yang tensing beside her as she feared Nora might stoop further to outrage. "Nora, please..." She begged softly, her ears drooping slightly. "It's... more, than that."

"Oh, please! Do tell!" She said, her sympathy for the White Fang gone in an instant.

"Because the King didn't magically wave his hand and end racism, Nora! In fact, it was quite the opposite!" She stood to her feet, meeting Nora at her level. Yang was quick to her side, hands on her shoulders defensively. "He paid the faunus millions of lien that Mistral didn't have, then ceded territory near a valuable shipping lane! That crippled Mistral's already-failing economy, and when humans began to lose their jobs and starve, they turned their ire on the faunus, who they blamed. Not every faunus was thrilled with the idea of uprooting their entire lives and moving to a small island in the extreme south. The island was poor in resources, remote, and teaming with grimm. So, many stayed behind - those that did facing terrible hate crimes in retaliation for the economic suffering the humans blamed them for."

When Nora relaxed slightly, Blake sat back down, but waited for Nora to sit as well before she continued. "The White Fang defended faunus communities. They stood guard at schools, ensuring faunus children were not assaulted entering or exiting. They walked faunus neighborhoods when segregation began to spread through the kingdoms, keeping them safe from roving hate mobs. When faunus families starved, the White Fang made sure they could eat - through donations received or food stolen from shipping trucks. The White Fang are the defenders of those left behind in Mistral and Atlas. They aren't terrorists - their the only people doing anything to stop the rampant oppression that followed the Great War."

"Because my mother and father were a part of that oppressive system? As faunus themselves? Wow, I never considered that, Blake!" She spat out, looking away. She hurt more than she was angry.

Blake sympathized. She took a gamble, standing from her bed, slowly walking across the gap. She sat down beside Nora, slowly pulling her into a hug. "I don't know why the White Fang ordered the purge. It doesn't make it right. If I agreed with everything the Fang did, I wouldn't be here at Beacon, Nora..." When Nora turned into Blake, wrapping her arms around the feline faunus, she sighed and tightened her grip. "I'm so sorry... But the truth is somewhere in the middle. The modern White Fang is both a terrorist group, and a revolutionary organization. It depends on who you ask, and who lost what. But revolution is never clean."

As Nora fought to keep her tears in, she remembered the spat between Weiss and Pyrrha. Weiss had lost a dear and cherished family member to the revolutionary cause Pyrrha championed, or so Pyrrha had explained. But it had been a decade ago. A little more recent than when she'd lost her own parents. She didn't have answers, but like Weiss, she needed to move on. She couldn't let her grudge stay between Teams Ruby and Juniper, who were otherwise working so well together. She would never love the White Fang, but at least now, she knew that there were people in it like Blake, who fought for the right reasons. It... didn't really help with closure. But, at least she could say she didn't blindly hate Blake now. "Thank you, Blake." Maybe if people like her led the Fang, it'd be a better organization.

Blake let go, smiling. "Thank you for listening. I hope it helps you."

Finally, when the tension seemed to clear, Yang spoke up. "Right, great, cool, history class is over. Can we get some privacy so we can go back to our own studying?" She gave a playful wink towards Blake, then a knowing glance at Nora. She'd never dare interrupt the exchange that happened here in the heat of it, but hoped the bit of 'apathetic human' would give some levity. Nora let out a sharp bit of laughter, spilling her tea on the bed she sat on. "Oh, Weiss is gonna have a fit when she sees that." Yang pressed on, the teasing putting Nora right back into her bubbly, mischievous baseline.

"Have fun, you two!" Nora practically bounced out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her. Yang shot to her feet and in a few swift strides, she locked the door to their dorm.

Yang then turned to face Blake. "So... Better..?" She asked, watching as Blake walked over to Yang's bed, sitting down on the edge. Yang returned, leaning back on her pillows as she sat down, leaving plenty of room for Blake.

"Better, I think..." She leaned back onto Yang, who wrapped her arms around Blake's waist.

"Why didn't you tell her why the purge happened?" She whispered, worried the ginger faunus might still be in earshot. Blake had confessed the purge to Yang not long after her and Nora had first had their spat.

"Because the explanation doesn't justify the crime." Blake answered. "Purges are one of the reasons I left the Fang, Yang."

"Hey~! That rhymed! OOF!" She felt an elbow jab at her stomach. "Right, sorry. Sorry. So, Rubes and Weiss won't be back for a little bit longer..."

"You're insufferable!" Blake cried out, leaning her head back slightly, allowing Yang to plant a soft, gentle kiss. "But... you raise a good--"

Another bit of knocking at the door. "Blake! Yang! Unlock this door at once!" It was Weiss.

Yang leaned back with an exasperated groan. Blake moved to stand, reaching for her bow. "Maybe next time, Yang." Yang stood back up with her, and the two traded one last glance before making for the door.

Chapter Text

"Thank you for calling Argus General Hospital. This is the reception desk, how may I help you?" The kind, but tired voice came over the receiver.

"Hello, yes. I'd like to speak with Helen Nikos, in room Three-Oh-Nine?" Pyrrha spoke softly into her scroll, having snuck into the bathroom to make her call. She tapped one foot nervously on the floor while drumming the other leg with her fingers, holding the scroll to her ear as she waited for the call to transfer. Eventually, it came to a steady ring.

When the landline answered, a man's voice was present on the other end. "Three-Oh-Nine, Doctor Hendel." He said, politely.

"Y-Yes, Doctor Hendel, this is Pyrrha, Helen's daughter." Pyrrha stated nervously.

"Ah, Miss Nikos. I'm glad you called." He said warmly. Pyrrha could practically hear the smile. "The surgery has concluded..." He could already hear the shaking breath from the other end of the receiver. "Pyrrha, she's going to be alright. She had a minor pulmonary event, but otherwise, she's practically invincible." Pyrrha slumped against the side of the stall, crying softly in relief. "If she wasn't still sedated, I'd even let you talk to her. She's off the ventilator, and we expect her therapy to be the standard two-week affair. Then, she'll be causing trouble for her neighbors back home in no time."

"Thank you..." She managed out through her soft gasps. "Thank you so much, Doctor..."

"It's what why we're here, ma'am." He said with a soft smile. "Somebody here would like to speak with you. Is that alright?"

"Yes, please." Pyrrha waited as the phone was handed over.

"Hey, kiddo." She recognized the voice immediately, her Uncle Adamos. He had been her mother and father's foreman at the Shale Mine, and fellow survivor and revolutionary to her mother in the years after the disaster. Of all her 'aunts and uncles who weren't really aunts and uncles', Andre Adamos was her most cherished. "Doc says your mom'll be out and kicking in a couple weeks. I give her until the end of the weekend myself. How's class coming along?"

"Well enough. Our final exam is tomorrow morning. Team sparring." She explained, a smile creeping slowly to her face. She was excited to get into her strong-suit, as it were.

"Pfft. You could sleep-walk around anyone in that school. You're Pyrrha-fucking-Nikos, you're the best there is. Better than the rest." He said like an announcer introducing his prized fighter in a contest.

"Uncle Adamos, everyone here is the best there is where they came from. I'm just another drop in the sea." She said. Even in the privacy of the bathroom stall, she still wasn't fond of getting too much praise.

"Oh, and she's so very modest, too!" He kept teasing. She knew he was just trying to lift her spirits, but all the same, it was definitely working. He'd always been there in this role, trying to be a morale crutch for her mother and her. He and his husband, her Uncle Georgio, were the closest things to fathers she'd had since her own met his end. "You, ah, you still use that left hook I taught 'ya?"

"Every fight, at least once." Pyrrha said, chuckling. She remembered the 'left hook', which in reality was throwing her shield. 'Look, you got that magnet power, kid. Heave that fuckin' shield at 'em! That'll make 'em think twice! Bam, right in the kisser, ey kiddo?'

"Atta girl!" He said proudly. "Hey, don't you worry about your mom. The family's got 'er, and we're takin' real good care of 'er. You just focus on that schoolwork. And quit that damned job, would ya? I told you once, I told you a million times, the family's gonna cover 'er bills. You just keep on climbing. It makes us all so proud, kid."

"Thanks, Uncle Adamos." Pyrrha sighed one last time. "I love you."

"Love you too, kiddo. Stay safe. Oh, and 'ey, if you face that pig who called you those slurs, you break his fuckin' kneecaps, ah? Bust 'em wide open like a bunch a' scrambled eggs. Hey - remember that trick your Uncle Georgio taught ya' with the butterknife and the Harvest Day turkey's leg a few years back? Yeah, crank Milo into the kneecap socket and--" click. Pyrrha shook her head gently, giggling to herself as she closed the scroll. She was fortunate to have such a loving and nurturing family back home. She stood and left the stall, rejuvenated and warm with the kind of love only family could provide. She was going to face Team Ruby tomorrow. And, while she would not be breaking any legs... it did help, knowing her mother was pulling through, and her family was looking out for her.

-----

Ren sat at the foot of his bed, alone for once in the Juniper dorm. He was deep in meditation, his eyes squeezed shut, his mind a million miles away. It had started earlier in the week, when he realized just how little of Nora's history before meeting that he really knew. However, his thoughts had selfishly trailed away from his life companion and onto himself. He hated that about himself. No matter how much he outwardly displayed a care for Nora above all things, his mind constantly came wandering back to long thoughts about himself. Thoughts that didn't do anybody any good. Selfish thoughts.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Ren had every right to think about himself. The first rule of first aid was to ensure your own safety before looking around for other people to help. The healthy mind took stock of itself. His emotions and feelings were only natural. After all, his father was... well, his father, too. And if his mind sought answers or comfort in the dark recesses of nostalgia, then that was perfectly acceptable. Normal, even. It didn't make him less of a person, and it didn't make him less of a friend to Nora.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

No, friend really wasn't the word. Sister wasn't, either. He loved Nora very much. Deep down in his soul, he loved her like nobody else on this planet. He knew that, when the time came, he would ask to advance their relationship to the next stage. To a romantic stage. There was no other woman he'd rather spend his life with, after all. But Nora was so... complicated. So damaged, more so than he ever knew before coming to Beacon. Was now really the right time, for her sake? They'd only ever known one another - would it be taking advantage of her to ask to deepen their relationship?

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

But he loved her. Gods he loved her. He loved her so much, and he wanted to express that. He just needed the right time. The right opportunity. He needed--

"Ren?" When the faunus' voice registered, his eyes snapped open. He offered a bright smile. She looked at him so apologetically, as if she really hated to interrupt him. "Did you, uh... see the text?"

"Yes. We will be facing Team Ruby tomorrow." Ren said with a knowing nod, keeping his expression neutral. "I expect us to secure a close victory."

"Oh! Well, you have higher expectations than our fearless leader." Nora plopped down beside him, kicking her legs on the side of the bed. "He just about had a stroke right on the spot! Dropped his soda and everything." She was snorting and laughing, but stopped when Ren didn't join him. "I'm only teasing..."

"I know." Ren said, offering her a smile. "I bet it was pretty funny."

"Hyeah! But I bet Pyrrha wouldn't think so." She wrenched her voice high, fluttering her eyelids, clasping her hands before her heart while staring up at the ceiling. "Jaune~! No~! Don't be scared~! I'll protect you~!" She then sighed, her snorting laughter coming to a stop. "They're perfect for each other. It reminds me of us."

Ren blushed at that, glancing over. "O-Oh?" He asked cautiously, doing his best to reign his emotions back in.

"Yeah. Me, always having to be the strong, punchy-type to protect my dear, precious Lie Ren." She fluttered her eyes at him once more, grinning.

"Well, at least I'm reasonably capable in a fight." Ren gave a smile. "He is improving, though. It's... a joy to see. How are you and Blake doing?"

"Ah, we text every now and again. Still not besties or anything." Nora said, none the wiser of where this train of thought was going. Ren decided that now was the opportunity. He took in a deep breath, before finding her eyes, placing a hand over hers.

"Blake and Yang asked me if, when Hell Week finishes, we would be interested in actually starting our book club together. And, I think it would be nice if we did. You and me, that is. Attending. Together."

Nora stared at Ren for a long while, before gasping loudly, picking up Ren's hand in her own while the registry of her sharp inhale continued to climb. "LIE REN, ARE YOU ASKING ME ON A DATE?!?"

"Yes." He said simply. He found it so much easier when he could answer in short, simple terms, not beating around the bush.

He watched as her ears shot high, her eyes widened, and she began to practically vibrate in place. "Yes!" She shot back, before tackling Ren into a tight hug, laughing like a madwoman who had just secured the world.

-----

Jaune could hardly believe his eyes when he saw the notification pop up on his screen.

'INTRO TO COMBAT FINAL EXAM - TOMORROW'
'CRDN v. CFVY'
'RWBY v. JNPR'

To him, it was the worst possible outcome. Jaune needed a stellar performance in the test tomorrow in order to secure his place in Beacon Academy. His academics were in order, but just as it had been before, his combat score was dangerously low. He'd improved, to be sure, but not by enough of a margin. Not nearly fast enough. He could already envision the fight. They would start strong, Pyrrha would overcompensate for him, and she would be the first to go down. A failing grade because he had been in the way, her flawless academic record forever tarnished. Nora and Ren might fair better, they had great synergy - but not great enough to best Team Ruby by themselves. They would fall one by one. They would fail, all because Jaune had no business at Beacon Academy.

Unless, Jaune was not there to be an interference.

He knew what he needed to do. Despite all of Pyrrha's best efforts, he did not see enough skill in himself to justify holding the spot of Juniper's leader. Maybe a new team would form, NRV or Nerve, and they would take the academy by storm, no longer held down by lowly Jaune Arc. While he had hoped to fight Cardinal in the final, his hopes of skating by were dashed by the prospect of facing a team as skilled as Team Ruby. In some ways, they were better than Juniper. More put together. More fluid. More in sync. He owed his team this, no matter how much it killed him. He would not hold them back. And so, he approached the central tower of Beacon Academy, having snuck away from his team. He went up the elevator, finding his way to Ozpin's office. With a few knocks, he stepped inside to find Ozpin and Glynda standing by the windows and talking. Ozpin turned around with a kindly smile and a mirthful glint in his deep, green eyes, a fond look on his face - almost nostalgic. Glynda looked at him in much more stern of a way, but softened slightly. He didn't know it, but she could tell by the look on his face exactly what this was about. "Miss Goodwitch, this won't take long." Ozpin said, gently.

Glynda nodded, walking towards the elevator with a brisk pace, stopping only to place a soft hand on Jaune's shoulder. "You're doing the right thing." She said, before leaving behind him, the doors sliding shut. Jaune watched as Ozpin sat behind his desk, his right hand still hooked on his cane as his left extended towards the chair across from him.

Jaune's heart felt like a weight in his chest. His legs felt like lead, but he moved onwards, standing before Ozpin's desk. He stared up at Jaune with that smile, as if he were looking at somebody completely different. Jaune felt the lump at the back of his throat, his eyes misting as he forced himself to speak. "H-Headmaster Ozpin. I have a confession."

Ozpin knew what he was going to say, but he knew it was important for Jaune to be the one to say it. And so, he nodded quietly, his face taking a more somber expression. Jaune paused for a moment, his eyes falling to the ground. He couldn't meet Ozpin's gaze when the words finally dripped out like poison. "I... don't belong at Beacon Academy. I..." He shuddered, his body picking up a tremble as his fists squeezed together, a single tear rolling down his cheek from his right eye. "I... lied. I forged my transcript. I thought I could do this... But I won't hold my team back any longer, sir. I'm sorry..." He slumped into the offered chair, burying his face in his hands, the weight of shame folding in on him like ten tons of raw grief. He cried softly, barely noticing as Ozpin made to stand, slowly rounding the desk, only to sit before him on the tabletop.

"I knew your father, you know." The words didn't help Jaune, they only made his heart sink even further. Ozpin closed his eyes as he listened to Jaune blubber and cry before him. "He was a close friend of mine." He paused a moment longer, taking in the memories for himself. Finally, he reached into his pocket, withdrawing his scroll. "Jaune, I have a message saved that I'd like for you to hear."

By the time Jaune looked up, he already had the file ready. When the familiar, but distanced by loss and time, voice of his father pierced the din of the circular, gear-accented room, his puffy eyes shot wide.. "Oz, it's Jules." Jules sounded exhausted, his breath hitching. There was the distant rumble of gunfire, and the unmistakable sound of screaming. These were his final moments at Mountain Glenn. "I'm... hurt pretty bad, Oz. I don't think I'm going to get out of this tunnel."

"Dad..." He whispered, staring at the phone as if it would conjure Jules Arc back from the grave and directly before him. His mother had never gotten a message. The fact that Ozpin had received one surprised him, stealing his mind from its occupation with his forged transcript, though he was far too emotionally compromised to consider the implications.

"Listen, Oz. There's something you should know. None of my daughters wanted to do this..." He said, referring to their interests in occupations in the trades and sciences. Something to be proud of, to be sure. Some of his sisters were the most gifted minds in Argus. But, none had showed interest in becoming a huntsman like him. Something Jules had remarked that he was immensely grateful for. Jaune knew his father had hoped he'd be like his siblings and pick a trade. "My boy, Jaune. He does... More than anything. You should see him, Oz. The way he plays with that practice sword in his room. The way he listens to my stories. It's all magic to him." There was a cough, a groan, and a sigh. "Oz, one day, my son is going to stand before you at your academy. Like I did. He's going to have a fire in his soul, especially... after this." He sounded regretful for the impact his death would have on his son. "He's going to be a huntsman. I know that. He's smart as a whip and braver than an ox, my boy Jaune."

Jaune felt his heart shattering again. When his hands reached for the scroll subconsciously, Ozpin allowed him to hold it. There was a simple photo of his father, standing with Professors Qrow and Goodwitch, and a second woman with raven-black hair that he didn't recognize. His long, blonde hair flowing over his shining white armor, and the widest smile he'd ever seen beneath his scraggly white beard. He looked so happy. "When that day comes, Oz. You look out for him. Please. Guide him, like you guided me. That's all I ask in return for my years of service. And when he graduates, you tell him that I'm proud. That I always knew he could do it. Can you do that for me?" There was another, longer delay. "I... need to go now. I'm going to try to call Carlota." Jaune's mother was supposed to get a call, it seemed. "Tell Amber... she was right about me, after all. She'll know what I mean." He let out a tired, dragged chuckle. "Goodbye, Wizard. And... thank you." The scroll beeped twice, the file ending.

Jaune stared at the saved contact of his father, and the file that showed a message that was a minute or so long. His hands trembled around the scroll, his tears coming back in force. He wanted to beg any divine power that would listen for just one more sentence, one more minute of talking. He folded once more into himself, his crying returning, before breaking into ragged sobs. Ozpin pushed off from his desk, scooting a chair closer to Jaune. He sat beside the huntsman-in-training, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I've known from the beginning, Jaune. I've known, and yet I've watched you develop. Unlike others who try to sneak their way in, you have the actual drive to try to grow, and learn. You belong in my school. The blocks to your progress before here fall piece by piece. In my lifetime, I've made more mistakes than any human being who has ever lived." He glanced down at Jaune with a light, sympathetic smile on his face. "I can say with certainty that admitting you to Beacon Academy was not one of them."

"But... my team, they need somebody leagues better than what I am." He protested, looking up weakly towards Ozpin.

"Then be that better man. Your father was the bravest huntsman I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. Jules Arc did not believe in the impossible cause or unwinnable fight. He threw himself into everything he faced with that very sword you wield, and he believed he would find his way to the other side, one way or another. It didn't matter what he was up against, he was going to triumph - because Jules Arc believed there was no alternative. Whether you see it or not, that legacy burns within you. You have three people waiting for you who believe in you with no reservation. No hesitation. Tomorrow, you will prove them correct. I believe that, and you should as well."

"You... aren't going to drum me out of the Academy?" Jaune asked, slowly remembering why he'd come in here.

"No, Jaune Arc. I will not. Now... I've a lot of work to do, and I suspect that so to, do you. Good day, Mister Arc." Ozpin smiled, dismissing Jaune from his office. Jaune quickly launched to his feet, offering Ozpin his right hand for a shake. Ozpin took it with a chuckle.

"Thank you, sir. Thank you..." As Jaune turned to leave, he walked past where Glynda stood just outside the office, desperately wiping at his face. For once, she was smiling. A fond, nostalgic smile. Jaune tried to offer it back with shaking lips, just as Glynda extended a small packet of tissues towards him. She admired the young man, who despite his rough spot, had his father's heart.

When he came to the bottom floor, he was eye-to-eye with Pyrrha, who stood there, tapping her foot with her arms crossed. She didn't look very happy. She'd likely seen him nervously cross the campus and bolt into the tower, and followed him in - just a hair too late. "You didn't."

"I did." Jaune nodded, slowly. But, he surprised Pyrrha when he reached out, gently pulling her arms apart to take her hands. "But it's gonna be ok, P. In fact, I don't think I've ever felt better."

"What?" She asked, this having not been the outcome she expected from the big reveal, as he released her left hand, raising her right hand to his lips to offer a gentle kiss, before he began to walk confidently out of the tower, still holding that hand.

"Come on. We've got a fight to get ready for. And I don't know about you, Miss Invincible Girl, but I intend to win. I've got a plan." He turned his head, letting Pyrrha see a cocky smirk on his face. She stared for a moment as they left the central tower, her own smile widening. She didn't know what happened atop the tower, but the results were evident, and she was more than appreciative for whatever it was. She felt a giddy energy come about her, much like the confident joy he seemed to hold and radiate from within his own heart.

-----

The morning came by swiftly. The class came faster yet. In their side of the locker rooms, Jaune was strutting back and forth as his team assembled around him, arrayed for battle and ready to take the exam. "Team Juniper, in the last few months, I've had the honor and privilege of being your leader. But today, we face our toughest opponents yet. Team Ruby. They're good, people. Real good." He turned sharply on his heel, his sneaker squeaking on the tile floor.

"How good are they?!?" Nora beamed, her eyes widening as she assumed she was playing well into the bit.

"Nora... it's not a joke-set up. Let him talk." Ren said with a soft chuckle.

"But I know for a fact that we're better. Pound for pound, our team has something theirs lacks entirely. Something that only Team Juniper can bring to the table." He tried to continue, only to be cut off by Nora again.

"Pyrrha!" She cried out with her arms pumped high.

"Hello again~!" Pyrrha gave a gentle wave from her end of the bench the three were sitting on as Jaune tried desperately to hype them up.

"...I was going to say 'unity'. Or 'grit'. Or... Hells, I don't know, 'commitment'? Gods, Nora, you ruined my train of thought!" Jaune groaned out, glaring at Nora.

"I'm loving the speech, Jaune!" She hooted merrily, her ears bolted straight towards the ceiling.

"Yeah, yeah. Look, we're going to go out there, and we're going to kick their butts. No mercy. They were our friends yesterday. They will be tomorrow. But today? They're the enemy. Let's take it to them!" He slammed his right fist into his left palm, bringing a chorus of cheers from his team. His heart swelled with pride. They were a machine now. A family. "Here's the plan. Pyrrha, you sweep out first with Ren. You'll be the anvil, he'll be the hammer. You need to try and bait Yang. As soon as she gets mad enough and activates her semblance, Ren, you're going to chase after Blake and let Pyrrha keep Yang locked in place. I think you're the only one who can keep up with Blake and her semblance. Nora, you're on Ruby duty. She's fast, but you're just crazy enough to keep up. I'm going after Weiss. If I can keep her busy, and we can keep them split up, I'm sure we'll win. When your opponent goes down, check the Aura Tracker and help your teammate who needs it most. Call your hits if you get low, and we'll pivot. Everyone got it?" He shunted his hand into the middle, watching as his teammates joined him. "Juniper, on three! One! Two! Three!"

"JUNIPER!" The four of them cried in unison.

"We can do this." Ren said with a confident smile. They split, entering the arena with a confident stride. Jaune's heart raced with nerves, but he also felt something new in his chest: swelling pride. He watched as Team Ruby emerged from the opposite locker room to them. Ruby held Crescent Rose before her, Weiss spinning Myrtenaster to her desired dust cannister, when he noticed a yellow cartridge in one of the cylinder's slots. His eyes widened as an idea came across his mind.

"Nora, try to keep your back to me. We might be able to charge you up." He whispered. She nodded, a devious grin on her face as she pulled forth Magnhild, gripping it in her hands with a rumbling chuckle.

Yang was the first to the middle, slamming her fists together to cock the shotguns in her gauntlets. "Hey, Juniper. Nothing personal, but you're cooked. You know that, right?"

"I wouldn't be so sure. I have sampled your team before, you know." Pyrrha drew Milo, keeping it in its sword form for now.

"Don't think this will be easy just because we tied in the cafeteria." Weiss huffed, spinning her chambers on Myrtenaster one more time.

Jaune looked up to where Glynda stood on the podium overlooking the dueling pit, surprised to see Ozpin standing beside her. He offered Jaune a smile and a nod, before Jaune looked forward once more. "Ruby Rose."

"Jaune Arc." She replied, Blake standing to her right. Like Ren, she wasn't big on smack talk. "If it had to be anyone, I'm glad it's you. But know that our victory will come swift! Swiftly! Swiftly, right?" She glanced over at Yang, who gave her a nod and a thumbs-up. She cocked Crescent Rose, as he drew Crocea Mors, watching as the arena lights shined off the blade. He nodded.

"Juniper, remember your dance partners." He said with a smirk, the four teammates repositioning. Blake found herself standing alone, while Ren and Pyrrha lined up to go at Yang first. She looked between the two, tilting her head slightly. Nora lined up on Ruby, cackling as she patted her hand with Magnhild as if it were a baseball bat. Jaune lined up before Weiss, smiling. "Hey. I don't think we've gotten to formally talk yet. I'm Jaune Arc." Weiss didn't respond, so he simply shrugged.

"Uh... you guys are just gonna leave me open?" Blake asked with a bit of reservation. When nobody in Juniper's lineup shifted, she sighed. "Fine by me." She stepped back, taking a position beside Ruby, deciding two teams could play the two-on-one game. Nora looked between the two, her smile only widening, her ears straight up atop her head.

"Teams Juniper and Ruby, you will fight in a 'deathmatch'. You will have five minutes to attempt to eliminate the other team. Your score will be based on your performance - elimination does not equate a failure." Glynda explained. "Fight well. Three... Two... One... Begin!"

With a snap, the teams were in motion. Ren and Pyrrha shot off like bullets, with Pyrrha jabbing at Yang, Akouo rocking on her wrist as it ate belch after thundering belch from Yang's gauntlets. Ren flanked around behind, trying to line up shots with StormFlower. As he opened fire, Yang noticed at the last possible second, ducking away, Pyrrha keeping her shield up to deflect the incoming fire. Despite what a lot of people said about Yang, she was incredibly intelligent, and already had an idea what was going on here. She flipped about quickly, chasing Ren down. It was a good idea, but Ren was faster, backflipping away as the first few of her punches caught nothing but air, only to feel a sharp blow to her ribs on the right side, then another on the left. Yang wheeled about to see Pyrrha laying into her, her back bristling with a thousand little needles as she felt StormFlower pelting her from behind the moment she'd turned. Suddenly, her hair took on a fire-like quality, her eyes shifting red. "THAT'S IT! YOU ANNOYING LITTLE PRICKS!"

"Ren! Now!" Pyrrha called out, shifting onto the defensive as she allowed Yang to tear into her with blow after blow. Ren sprinted off to find Nora.

Left alone against two, Nora was struggling. While she could match Ruby's scythe, Ruby was just good enough with her timing to fire a shot off right before the clash, augmenting her own counter-swing with the recoil to a point where it was equal, if not stronger than Nora's. Then, as they clashed, Blake would loop around to her side, scoring a good hit or two to her exposed back. By the time Ren was charging in, Nora's aura was down to seventy-five percent - an alarming drop for such a short time. Immediately, he clashed StormFlower into Gambol Shroud, before his two SMG's barked a spray of fire at the faunus. Her yellow eyes widened in shock and she recoiled back, leaving a clone to take the blows as she tried to separate from Ren, who maintained his pursuit the moment her shadow clone faded to mist.

Jaune spared a glance up at the Aura tracker, then another glance at his team in motion. Nora's aura was a little lower than he'd hoped it'd be, but all in all, things were going according to plan. There was still plenty of time left on the clock. He switched his focus back to Weiss just in time to catch a powerful blast of ice to his shield, right over his family crest. "Gah!"

"Eyes forward, Jaune Arc." Weiss teased.

"Hey, what can I say? You don't really need my entire focus." He smiled, pulling a play from the Cardin Winchester playbook. Every now and again, it was wise to learn from an enemy. Pyrrha had told her how haughty the heiress could be, and he hoped she was not one for exaggeration...

"What?!?" She snapped at the assault on her ego, before setting into a swift flurry of offensive strikes, using her glyphs to increase her speed. Jaune grit his teeth as he fought to parry and deflect her away, thrusting Crocea Mors when he could, but Weiss was giving him very little to work with for offensive openings. That was alright, though - he had just spent the better part of a month drilling with Mistral's four-time champion, and she was just as fast - if not faster - than Weiss. He could keep this up for a while, waiting for his opening - or a suitable opportunity.

As Jaune and Weiss paired off, Ruby was beginning to come into her own against Nora, getting good at hooking Crescent Rose around Magnhild's shaft, scoring licks with her scythe here or there. Nora was forced to take a few steps back, watching as Ruby swung her scythe around to gain momentum. "Getting tired, Nora?" She teased.

"Not on your life!" She was, however. Very quickly. Jaune had promised a chance to power her up, but he had yet to deliver - and Ruby was much faster than their plan had anticipated. She wasn't the only one. Blake was proving to be more than a match for Ren, practically running circles around him. Even Pyrrha was fighting more defensively than anticipated against Yang, hiding more of her form behind Akouo with every passing impact. Jaune knew their team had spread too thin, too early. His plan had appeared successful at first, but either it had been a bad one or Team Ruby had compensated. It was starting to fall apart.

Thinking fast, he looked at Weiss. "You know, I have to admit! I'm really grateful you haven't used any lightning dust against me. It was very polite, given my shoulder injury." He said in an overly-friendly voice, knowing Weiss was still burning hot from his prior insult. He watched as she took a firm step back, spun Myrtenaster's chamber and aimed the rapier forward towards him. Right as electricity zipped in a bright, flashing arc down her blade, Jaune called out. "Nora!" He rolled at the last second, the electricity sailing just over his head, directly into his teammate - who had managed to stay behind him in her own fight, just as instructed.

Nora jolted as the lightning hit her, sputtering and smoking at the end of the blow. Ruby paused slightly, tilting her head in confusion at the incident. Usually, when people took a direct, charged hit from Myrtenaster, they didn't stay on their feet with a wide grin. Suddenly, her eyes widened. Nora's semblance. As Nora lifted her hammer, pink sparks arcing off of the weapon, Ruby called out. "Yang! Switch!" She rolled away, and Yang pulled back from Pyrrha. The sisters swapped opponents. While Ruby wasn't certain she could keep up with Pyrrha, she knew Yang would do much better dodging Nora than she would be able to now that the faunus was charged up. Sure enough, Yang was dodging each incoming swipe of Nora's hammer, scoring blow after blow on the ginger faunus, only stopping to pull a fist back and cycle a new set of cartridges into Ember Cecilia, her gauntlets.

While Nora had not been helped by the plan, finding herself in a new stalemate, Pyrrha was gaining swift ground on Ruby - the champion making short and simple work of the girl jumped ahead two years to join Beacon. It had been the break Juniper needed. Pyrrha extended Milo to its full length, using it as a spear to poke out from behind Akouo in occasional strikes at Ruby while out of reach of her scythe, effortlessly guiding Crescent Rose away with her magnetic semblance when it came in too close. Before long, Pyrrha had Ruby on the ropes, and she was quickly downed with a few solid blows to her upper chest. A buzzer sounded through the arena, and Glynda spoke. "Ruby Rose, eliminated." Pyrrha followed Jaune's order, looking up to the Aura tracker. Jaune was deceptively high - but he had an enormity of aura, and a distinct lack of refined skill. At any moment, he was likely to take a sudden and decisive blow that dropped him low. Nora was faltering against Yang, but Ren was having immense difficulty with Blake. She was going to charge to help him when she watched Ren take a strong, solid chop to his midsection, sprawling him out onto the floor. The buzzer sounded. "Lie Ren, eliminated." Pyrrha pivoted Milo to its ranged form, beginning to approach Blake while snapping off a series of shots in her direction, forcing Blake to constantly deploy and deplete clones to avoid the fusillade hailing in at her.

Yang and Nora continued to go blow for blow, Nora's augmented powers keeping her in the fight with Yang as her own semblance burned away, turning each heavy blow against Nora back against her tenfold. While Ruby was powerless to give anymore orders to her team, being eliminated, her last decision had been very wise. Every time Nora swung, she was statistically likely to come up with nothing but air. However, when she did hit, she would do minimal damage to Yang, only to allow Yang to unleash that stored energy back at her in the next punch. Weiss kept her oppressive onslaught going on Jaune, realizing that, as the shot-caller, this was a decisive point in the battle where he would need to make critical adjustments. She hoped to prevent him from doing such.

However, Jaune's mind was wheeling anyway as he continued his backsliding retreat against Weiss. He noted that Nora was critically low with her Aura, and Pyrrha was still hovering around eighty percent. Fairly promising, given that she'd fought half of Team Ruby by now. However, she wasn't invincible. The constant pivoting from opponent to opponent as the team wildcard was slowing her. She was already huffing as she marched on Blake, trying to close the distance with the faunus. The time wasn't in their favor, either - just enough time left on the clock for their team's collapse to prove fatal. An idea hit him, suddenly. "Pyrrha! Switch off Blake! Take Weiss!" He yelled, before sprinting away from Weiss as fast as he could manage following another parry of Myrtenaster. It shouldn't be too hard of an audible, given Pyrrha had yet to fully engage with Blake yet. Weiss moved to give chase on Jaune, correctly assuming he was the weakest link. Her tunnel vision bore immediate consequence as Akouo came sailing in, the twirling shield clocking her square in the side of the head. She staggered to the right, hissing out in pain as she favored the injury, but she had little time to react as Pyrrha fell upon her, using Milo's sword form to keep in a fencing match with Weiss, summoning her shield back to her arm.

Jaune charged Blake, who dug in and raised Gambol Shroud. His idea was simple - He was confident he could defend against Blake long enough for Pyrrha to eliminate Weiss. Then, he would send her for Yang, and they'd get this spiral back in control. However, Blake was insanely fast, and her semblance allowed her an unparalleled ability to provide false broadcasts of her feints. She swung wide around Jaune, managing to clock him in the upper arm over his shield, then fast again down towards his legs. He yelped, falling onto his back. holding his shield up. "No, no, no!" He rolled away, detaching his shield from his gauntlet as he avoided Blake's lightning-fast ground strikes as she tried to finish Jaune off. He realized that she had the same train of thought he had stumbled upon - eliminate him swiftly, focus on Nora, then pick off Pyrrha three-on-one.

Jaune was surprised when he saw magnhild sweep over him in one of his rolls, inches from his face while connecting with Blake, directly in the stomach. With a thundering boom, the faunus went flying back into the boards of the arena, a buzzer sounding seconds after her sudden and painful impact. "Blake Belladonna, eliminated!" Glynda called out. Jaune was fast to get back to his feet, making quickly to optimize on their sudden numbers advantage. He realized Yang had to be close, and managed a yelp as he ducked just in time to dodge the first of what he expected was to be many incoming punches. Without his shield, he knew he was easy prey for the close-quarters brawler. He retreated, but was surprised when Yang didn't give chase. It seemed he'd done exactly as she planned, and she sailed in behind Nora, lighting her up with a rapid onslaught of punches. After a fifth blow directly to her back, Nora fell down with a groan, Magnhild clattering to the floor. The buzzer sounded. "Nora Valkyrie, eliminated." Damn, Jaune realized that Yang really was quite the smart fighter.

Two on two, him and Pyrrha against Weiss and Yang. Pyrrha, for her part, was having trouble putting Weiss away. While Pyrrha had Weiss in experience, Weiss had quite literally studied every one of her televised tournament fights. It gave her an alarmingly accurate ability to predict Pyrrha's next move at any given attack. In the kitchen, it had been easier for Pyrrha to keep the heiress on her toes. But now that Weiss wasn't mad beyond reason, and they were using their actual weapons, Pyrrha found herself locked in quite the stalemate. Typically, she'd be content to just take her time picking Weiss apart, but she knew that if she wasn't quick, Jaune would be locked into a fight he couldn't win. Not on his own. Jaune realized it too. Neither could afford to fight separately. Jaune called out. "Pyrrha! Argus Postal!" He yelled. Pyrrha's eyes went wide, remembering the retelling of the Argus Rising that she'd told for her portion of the spoken exam in Professor Ooblek's class. The valiant last stand of the Arguis Independence Front's first iteration thirty-nine years ago. She immediately caught his meaning, spinning on her spiked heel to drill a strong kick into Weiss' chin, using the surprise of the blow to sprint towards Jaune. The two connected, back to back.

"We do this together!" She called out, holding Milo out wide. As Yang and Weiss descended onto Pyrrha and Jaune, the two switched places. Jaune began to fence with Weiss the best he could without his shield, while Pyrrha once more began to trade blows with Yang. Pushed back to back, their maneuverability was greatly reduced, but they guaranteed they couldn't take any hits to the back. That didn't stop Weiss from trying to get clever, attempting to stab past Jaune to score a hit on Pyrrha's back anyway. Jaune dropped his elbow down, catching Myrtenaster in the crook of his arm, rolling his body weight against Weiss' wrist in a half-tackle, half-trip. The two hit the ground, but Weiss lost grip of her rapier.

"PYRRHA! SHE'S UNARMED!" Jaune cried out, wrestling with Weiss on the floor to keep Myrtenaster away from her.

Pyrrha spun about, setting onto Weiss with a flurry of precision jabs. Eventually, Weiss rolled to her side, groaning as a buzzer sounded. "Weiss Schnee, eliminated." Jaune smiled up at Pyrrha, moments before Yang fell upon him, scoring a series of blows to his face - doing him the decency of not firing her gauntlets while she was at it. Eventually, his aura cracked and she relented. The buzzer sounded. "Jaune Arc, eliminated."

Yang was back to her feet, cocking Ember Cecilia with a few pumps of her arms. Pyrrha circled her, twirling Milo in her right hand. The two were about to lash into one another, when suddenly, the buzzer sounded three quick times. "Time!" Glynda called out.

Yang relaxed, offering a hand. Pyrrha slid Milo away, extending her own. Yang spoke. "Damn. Tough luck, P-Money. I was gonna enjoy that."

"We will test our skills against one another at some other point, I'm sure. Well fought, Yang." She offered with a smile of her own, the two shaking hands.

Teams Ruby and Juniper picked themselves from the floor, collected their equipment, and rallied before Glynda when she came down the ramp, Headmaster Ozpin in tow. She stepped short of the eight, a smile on her face. "Excellent work, each of you. Both teams displayed high levels of teamwork and cooperation, as well as a commendable amount of personal skill. Your leaders displayed excellent strategic minds, and both teams were equal - right up to the end. I am proud to announce this match as a draw, and give both teams, and all members, the highest marks on this exam."

"A perfect score from Professor Goodwitch is nothing to scoff at, students. You should all be very proud of one another, and yourselves. You've all grown so much in such a short time. Hit the lockers... and enjoy your autumn break." Ozpin smiled, taking a sip of his coffee as he surveilled the cheering teams, watching as they left together in a motley of hugs, pecked kisses in some instances, and general hooping and hollering. "Walk with me." He asked of Glynda, the two heading to leave back from the spectator's deck, up the ramp and into the stands.

"Did you see what you needed to see, Oz?" Glynda asked, glancing down at her tablet, then back to Oz as he walked beside her.

"I did. I'm confident that Miss Nikos should be our Fall Maiden. I'm going to invite her to speak about it in the morning." Ozpin said quietly as they pushed their way through double-doors, entering the hallway towards the exit of the building.

"Tomorrow? That's awfully soon, sir. I had believed we'd be broaching this at the end of next semester, before the Vytal Tournament." Glynda seemed shocked at the prospect of pushing it up so far ahead of schedule.

"I'm afraid a development has forced my hand. We're running out of time. We must secure Amber's power before the situation in Vale deteriorates any further. I believe Ironwood will make his play for Amber soon enough." Ozpin was quiet now, brimming with anxiety.

"Ironwood is coming? What timeframe? How much time do we have to prepare? Can we stall him?" Glynda asked, pushing the doors to the outside open. As she did, she paused, her eyes widening as she looked up towards the sky.

"I'm afraid we're past that, Miss Goodwitch." Ozpin observed bluntly. Above them, looming over the campus, was a massive warship. It was angular, a stark black and white in the blue sky. Its dust-powered engines glowed a bright blue as a pair of green and red lights flickered on and off gently on the sides and extremities of the vessel, running lights to prevent collisions. In proud white letters on the black top hull, near the gun deck of the massive, angular ship was the name 'Providence', identifying the vessel as the flagship of the Colonial Defense Service - the official foreign expeditionary force of the Atlesian military. The mammoth warship cast a large shadow over Beacon Academy as it lingered overhead. A few mantas, lighter transports used for ferrying troops and supplies, flew around the vessel, like small fish circling a whale for scraps. Atlas had arrived, as Ozpin had feared they would. Yes, they would need to move much, much faster with his plans, now.

"I'll... prepare the transfer chambers." Glynda said, slowly peeling her eyes from the approaching warship. He gave a nod, but remained staring up as she began to walk away.

'I know you were behind Coldslate, James.' Ozpin thought to himself. 'I know you have ambitions to seize the Fall Maiden. You have played your hand, and I will play mine. I lament that it has come to this... but I hope you know that I have played this eternal game far too long to restrain myself now. I will do whatever it takes to refute your attempts to seize control of my board.' He sighed, looking away. 'Very well, James Ironwood. May the best man win.'

Chapter Text

It was a beautiful day, with clear, blue skies - save for their Atlesian visitors. Early in the morning, Jaune had mustered Juniper together for a daring mission. Ren had found some buckets of white chalk, while Nora had managed to smuggle four metal trays out of the cafeteria. Jaune, of course, brought his ball, while Pyrrha busied herself using her magnetic semblance to warp and bend an old metal pipe into the proper shape of a bat. It was time for Mistral's pastime - baseball. After all, it wasn't exactly like there was anything else to do with the total lockdown keeping their campus sealed up. Ruby and Weiss had volunteered to come out, but Blake and Yang had hit Yang's private reserves a little too hard in celebration the night before.

The process of shaping the field didn't take very long. Under Jaune's careful instruction, Ren was able to chalk out the lines on a clear patch of grass. Weiss had blown a considerable amount of her saved lien on snacks and drinks, and Ruby was just happy to get to learn a little bit about Mistral culture. "You know," Nora began, speaking with the leader of Team Ruby. "this is actually one of the first times I've actually gotten to play with other people."

"Yeah, I bet! With that hammer of yours, I'd guess they were too scared to let you swing!" Ruby said innocently, beaming up at her with wide, silver eyes.

The faunus sighed, shaking her head as her ears drooped. "No... It was more that it was hard to find a pitch that would let a faunus play on it. Mistral isn't like Vale." She quickly switched up from the difficult topic to a bright smile. Today was a good day, and she wasn't about to drag it down. "Their loss! I'm gonna kick your asses so bad!"

Weiss was a little less enthusiastic about the new sporting experience, looking around as the lines were chalked in and the lunch trays were put in place. "So... quick math, but it doesn't seem like there are enough of us to actually... Play. Going off the tray placements."

"Well, good thing we're a big fan of baseball, too." Oh Gods. Weiss turned on her heel, staring up at Team Cardinal as they approached. Cardin grinned down at Weiss, then looked around as Juniper set up the field. "Whaddaya say, Jauney-boy? Want to play a real game, or just some early-autumn grab ass with the gang?"

Well, Jaune had wanted to keep today casual and fun, but he could not resist the urge to take down Cardin. "Oh, you're so on." He did the quick math in his head, then Jaune shook his head. The six members of Ruby and Juniper also looked around, nobody eager to play on Cardinal's team if they could help it.

"Sal-u-tations, friends!" A high-pitched, enthusiastic voice greeted the Beacon students. As they split to make way, they would see a tall, lean girl with a too-wide smile, almost glowing green eyes, and short, tidy ginger hair, quite close to Nora's own hair color. "I could not help but notice that you are setting up to play the Mistral national sport of 'baseball', but appear a few players short. Is there a position for me to join in?" The group looked person to person, when Jaune spoke up.

"Eh, sure. Why not? You can play on Cardin's team. We'll just need one of us to sit--"

"Me." Weiss said, quickly moving to the sidelines with her snacks and drinks.

"Sen-sational!" The girl said, twitching a right hand up with a peace sign, walking over to stand with Cardin and his team, who seemed to stare at her like she was from a different planet.

"Eh... right, so, uh, who are you?" Cardin asked, staring down at the girl, who stared back up at her happily.

"My name is Penny! It's wonderful to meet all of you!"

"Alright... Penny. Cool. Look, I got a lot on this game, alright? You better not hold me back." Cardin nodded at her. He'd toned a lot of his worse traits down. Something was staying his tongue from its usual string of slurs and insults. No telling how that'd go if Cardinal lost. "Alright, you all pitch first." Cardin pointed at Jaune. "You got a bat?" At that, Pyrrha tossed her craftsmanship his way. He studied it skeptically for a moment, then relented. "Eh, not bad, for a..." He sighed. "...quick job."

Pyrrha and Jaune exchanged a look. Had her beatdown humbled them that severely? That, or had Team Cardinal gotten thoroughly beaten down by Team Coffee? Something was definitely different about the team leader. Even his team seemed slightly more relaxed, though none really spoke up or did anything of note, as if still too nervous to move out of turn. Jaune looked between his team. "Right. I'll be the catcher," the role often reserved for the strategist, who made plans based on the batter's movements about what best plays to run. "Ren, how's your throwing arm?"

"It's passable." Ren shrugged. "Nothing spectacular."

"Good! You pitch for us. Nora, Pyrrha, take outfield. Ruby, you're our baseman. I hope you're accurate using your speed semblance!" Jaune clapped his hands. "Let's make a day of it, guys!" The team-and-a-half split up evenly into their positions, with Jaune crouching behind 'home plate'. Cardin held the bat, smiling as he awaited the opportunity to knock a dinger off of Juniper's quiet loner.

"My new friends, may I be the first to swing the bat?" Penny asked, looking at Cardin. Cardin couldn't see the harm in it. Let the small fry go out there and swing three misses while he got to size up the migrant's arm. No harm, no foul.

"Eh, knock yourself out." Cardin gave her the bat with a forced smile. Penny took the bat, marching over to the home plate like a girl on a mission.

Jaune looked up at Penny with a smile from his crouched position. "We're here for fun. No winners or losers. Just do your best, and have a good game." He assured her with a grin. It was mostly true, in her case. Penny seemed like a nice girl. Though, Jaune really did want to beat the breaks off of Cardin. He stood to toss the ball to Ren, who stood over the 'pitcher's mound', catching it easily enough. "Whenever you're ready, Ren!"

Ren nodded, staring towards Penny, who stood with her bat held high at a ninety-degree angle, bent at her elbows. "I am baseball-ready!" She declared.

Ren gave a smile and a nod. He waited for Jaune's signal. Jaune shrugged, then gestured one finger down. Fast, down the center. A good probing ball. He nodded, then wound his leg up, loosing the ball towards the plate. Penny stared at the ball, and with an almost mechanical movement, she adjusted her batting stance, lifted her left leg, and with full force of a speeding train brought the metal bat into the ball, slamming the thing so hard that the metal 'bat' dented in, hard. A high-pitched ping sounded off as the bat snapped. Ren yelped out and jumped back to avoid the ball that was rocketing towards him, Ruby hitting the dirt in a puff of rose petals behind him as the ball kept going and going. Pyrrha and Nora could only watch as the ball continued to rocket away, both recoiling slightly when a loud crash sounded, immediately followed by a car alarm. "Home run!" Penny cried out in joy, flashing her grin and peace sign once more.

"Holy..." Cardin said, dropping his own drink from the sideline.

"My ball!" Jaune cried out, then sighed. "Well... I guess that's the game. Uh... good game..."

"Yeah, I think we, uh... Yeah..." Cardin took his gang and split, listening to the distant whine of the car alarm. Just like that, team Cardin was gone, leaving half of Team Ruby and Juniper with a happy Penny.

"Sen-sational!" She declared. "That was a lot of fun! So, what plans are we to engage with next?"

"Uh..." Pyrrha offered, rubbing the back of her neck as the group gathered around Penny. "That... was kind of the plan for the day. With the security lockdown, we can't really go anywhere. Baseball usually takes a few hours to play."

"Oh. I see. I apologize. I will learn from this, and use it to improve in the future." Penny nodded.

"Penny, you just won the game in a single swing of the bat." Ruby said, still in wonder. Had it not been for her semblance, she would have taken that ball directly to the chest. She bounced excitedly. "That is so freaking cool! Penny, I'm so glad we got to meet you!"

"Yes. It's always nice to make a new acquaintance." Ren said with a pleasant smile.

Weiss was hesitant to speak up, quickly putting two and two together. For a new person to arrive the day after the Atlas Colonial Force arrived, it was likely that she was the daughter of some important Atlesian officer. A daughter with poor social skills and an incredible knack for physical strength, apparently.

"Well, I'm Ruby Rose." Ruby was the first to formally introduce herself, a smile on her face. Suddenly, Pyrrha looked down at her scroll and when it buzzed in the pocket of her skirt. Thanking the uniform plaid for its utility, she pulled it out and went pale at the flashing notification she saw.

"Oh no! I was supposed to meet with Headmaster Ozpin today. I completely forgot!" She blurted out suddenly, then quickly went to leave in a flurry of apologies. It wasn't uncommon for the Invincible Girl. How she kept her busy schedule was anyone's guess.

"I will begin cleanup. Nora, will you help me?" Ren asked Nora, who sighed sadly and went to work, once again denied the opportunity to play baseball. They moved around, Nora collecting the trays before helping Ren kick the chalk off of the grass to not leave such a blatant, open design in the field.

Jaune was still staring in the direction of the car alarm. "I... guess I'd better go get my ball..." He began to walk off.

It was Ruby who noticed Penny glumly watching the group split up, and she quickly patted Penny on the back. "Hey! It's ok! Weiss and I don't have any plans! How about we spend some time showing you around the campus!"

"Ruby..." Weiss warned.

"No, it'll be fun! Come on! Let's go to the library first, and see what we can find for entertainment!" Ruby declared excitedly. "Do you like movies, Penny?"

"I am indeed interested in movies. I think that is a wonderful idea!" Once more, the freckled cheeks of the ginger lifted with her smile, and Ruby huffed a sigh of relief. Weiss looked back and forth between Ruby and Penny, then sighed in resignation as she moved to go along, quickly bundling up her armful of snacks and drinks. Ruby went to help her with the load, and they began towards the library.

"So! Where are you from, Penny?" Ruby asked.

"I'm from Atlas! I'm here with my father, Doctor Arthur Watts! My other father had to stay behind in Atlas do to an ongoing health concern."

"My sympathies." Weiss said, giving her a genuine frown. "Then your other father must be Doctor Polendina, correct?"

"That is most correct, Weiss Schnee." Penny nodded. "He is not going into any trouble, if that is your concern. He is simply not in enough health to travel with the fleet."

"Speaking of the fleet... why is it here?" Ruby asked, wincing slightly. It was a jarring transition to go from

"General James Ironwood is concerned about Vale's security in the wake of the major terrorist attack against Atlesian citizens in Vale." She answered, a hint of sorrow in her voice.

"Major terror attack? I'd heard it was a heist." Ruby tapped her chin.

"They blew the refinery up, Ruby! It was a terrorist attack against my family!" Weiss shot back indignantly.

"Sorry, Weiss... I just assumed most heists ended with a big explosion." Ruby offered an apologetic shrug of her shoulders, forcing a scoff out of the heiress as they walked along. "You know, like the tv shows?"

"Life isn't a television show, Ruby." Weiss complained as the three slowly approached the library doors, a new friendship birthed by the onset reality of property damage. Weiss acted haughty, but she found it impossible to stay mad at Ruby, instead smiling and shaking her head. Their new friend was just happy to be there.

As they left, Watts kept a watch on them through his daughter's eyes, high within the metal bowels of Providence. He had been nervous to permit her down to the campus, given that the students were college-aged and, for all intents and purposes, she was still such a new artificial intelligence. However, it had worked. She had friends, now. Nobody questioned her freakish display, after all, so many of such quirks could be chalked to a semblance. For now, he could simply sit back, forget the real reason Ironwood had brought her along, and enjoy the sight of his daughter leading a normal life. He gently sipped his tea, keeping surveillance on Penny, like he reasoned any good parent would.

Chapter Text

Qrow adjusted himself slightly as he leaned against a pillar in the back of the room. She hadn't seen or acknowledged him when she'd entered, but that was for the best. The usually stoic, if not cynical Qrow Branwen wasn't quite sure if he could trust himself enough to keep the emotions on his face in check. After all, they were here because of him.

But, the less Pyrrha Nikos knew about that, the better this would go.

It had been a cold and stormy day, the day of Amber's final stand. He, his sister Raven, Glynda Goodwitch - years before she'd been a professor - had all played a part in Amber's fate. They soothed their souls with the knowledge that it was for the good of humanity. Or, well, supposedly soothed. Raven had left Beacon not long after, the loss of Amber combined with the perpetual guilt over the loss of Summer over a decade prior to that dark day having been far too much for her to take. Qrow had picked up a nasty habit of alcoholism, but even at his drunkest he could not wash away what they'd done. Only Glynda had seemed to come out of the ordeal with her constitution in order. At least, he'd thought so, until he'd come up the elevator today to hear Glynda and Ozpin arguing. She'd begged him not to rush this, that the same mistakes that led to Amber's fate should not be repeated. Ozpin had simply told her they were out of time, and would not relent. And so, Glynda left. To where, or for how long, Qrow didn't know.

But he'd played his part this far. He had no choice but to see the road to its end. For Amber, Cinder and Hazel. The three deserved that much. The similarities that Qrow could visibly observe were startling to the older huntsman. It felt like just yesterday that he'd watched Amber sitting where Pyrrha was now, discussing her 'great potential' and how there was 'no doubt' she was the finest in her class. Ozpin sat there, buttering her up like a turkey set for the oven.

What a load of shit.

"What's your favorite fairy tale?" Ozpin asked at some point, seemingly out of nowhere to Qrow, who had only been vaguely listening to the discussion. He tented his hands together. When Pyrrha seemed confused by the question, he pressed on. "Stories and folklore from your childhood. I'm sure you remember a few."

"O-Of course." She began, taken aback by the sudden change in topics. Ah, so it had been that far out of nowhere. Funny how Qrow could predict such things. "Well, there's the Tale of the Two Brothers, the Shallow Sea, the Girl in the Tower..."

Ozpin interrupted, pushing his point. "What about the story of the Fall Maiden?" There it was. He just couldn't wait to make his play, like a tiger to its meat. He couldn't even do her the dignity of listing her actual favorites before chopping in. Qrow took a deep breath, trying not to be even more bitter than he was. A part of him knew it wasn't fair to internally chastise Ozpin for being hasty when Ironwood's flagship was practically at eye-level with his window.

Jimmy. Poor Jimmy. He and Jules had fought together at Mountain Glenn. They'd been there when Salem had destroyed their last, best chance at defeating the Grimm - or so Ozpin had painted the project out to be. Instead, thousands died, Jules didn't come back, and Jimmy... Something in him broke after that day. Qrow couldn't say he blamed him. It was one thing to plot against Salem in the shadows. It was another all together to face her in battle and be thoroughly demolished. They'd called it a war, but to Jimmy, he'd insist it was as much of a war as there was a war between men and ants.

It wasn't that he betrayed Ozpin following the Fall of Mountain Glenn. No, Jimmy would never do that. Instead, dragged back with a missing arm and leg, he decided Ozpin was no longer fit for purpose. General James Ironwood made it his life's mission to confront Salem as directly as he could, deciding he was done playing from the shadows. It had led him and Ozpin to no small amount of disagreement. And then, when Jimmy had gone about asking for the Fall Maiden, that had been the final straw.

Ozpin always had been possessive of the Fall Maiden. Just how deeply, Qrow knew first hand...

"...young woman found a sickly old man in the ruins of a once fine shack on a small plot of land." Pyrrha had begun to tell the story, but Qrow had only just now begun to listen. "She knew he would not survive the cold of winter without the walls of the shack being mended and reinforced. So, she put aside her travels to repair his shack plank by plank. She then noticed his hunger, and where he had been too frail to harvest his crops. And so, she did, diligently reaping the grain and picking the fruits and vegetables from the trees and roots. She made him a feast so that he would feel hearty once more. She then noticed he was lonely, and vowed to stay by his side through the winter, keeping him safe and in good company."

Of course, Ozpin's special little story involved somebody giving themselves entirely to his service. He sighed sadly, this time loud enough to give Pyrrha pause and draw Ozpin's glare. Ozpin gestured for Pyrrha to continue. "In... exchange, for her service and loyalty, he granted her magical powers that would allow her to help others, just as she'd helped him. In return, she vowed to come and check on him, every fall for the rest of their days. And thus, she became known as the Fall Maiden." Pyrrha smiled softly. "My mother loves that story. She says it reminds her of us - she and I, that is."

"I can see why." Ozpin leaned forward, a smile forming on his face. "Well, what if I told you that story is true?" Pyrrha stared at Ozpin for a while, tilting her head in such a way as to indicate that she wasn't sure if she was being tricked or otherwise played for a laugh. She didn't quite answer, but her body language conveyed everything.

Qrow pushed off from the column, taking one last swill from his flask. "...Yeah, there it is. Hearing it for the first time is always pretty wild."

Pyrrha was on her feet in an instant, turning to face Qrow with a cautious, guarded expression. "I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met."

"Qrow Branwen." He gave a smile, a nod, and a slight shake of his flask. "I've served your Headmaster for most of my life. He's telling the truth." Well, not all of it. So little of it, in fact, that it was almost a lie of omission. But he was a pretty good liar. Serving Ozpin required it.

A few soft exchanges of confused light chatter, an elevator ride, and a heavy silence later, they were walking through the vault beneath the school. Ozpin's cane rhythmically tapped the floor, whereas Pyrrha awkwardly shuffled behind him. Gods, he could only imagine what the kid was going through. At nineteen, most kids were sneaking booze into their rooms and crashing cars, doing stupid tricks with their friends. So much for that, for her. Her halcyon days of youth were over, just as swiftly as they'd been for Amber. He turned away from the her, just in the off chance the redhead turned his way. He didn't want to telegraph the deep look of guilt on his face.

They didn't make it far before the door chimed behind them, and Glynda emerged, rushing out of the elevator they'd just taken moments prior. She moved swiftly, rushing to catch up with the walking trio. "I'm sorry I was late." She said, falling in line beside Pyrrha, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You must have so many questions..."

"...One, or two..." She muttered, looking around. "...I still don't understand. Where are we going?"

Ozpin spoke up, walking along. "Just as Fall gives way to Winter, and Winter to Spring, time marches onwards. When a maiden dies, her powers move on to the next host. There must always be a Fall Maiden."

"So... how does the power choose..?"

"Through a series of stupid and convoluted rules." Qrow spat out bitterly. When Ozpin shot him a glare, he glared right back. "Don't get mad at me 'cause I'm right..."

This time, Glynda spoke up. "The only thing that was certain at first was that the powers were passed exclusively to young women. But, as time went on, it was discovered that the selection process was... more involved. You see, as we understand it now, when the Fall Maiden dies, the one who is in her final thoughts is first in line to inherit the power."

"The catch is that a last thought can be a lot of different things." Qrow pointed out. "And, it's not uncommon for a person's last thought to be, say, of their killer." At this, Glynda looked away, unable to hide the biting shame on her face. Good, Qrow thought. Amber haunted him night and day, the least she could do is act contrite for once in her life. Again, he stopped this bitter train of thought. That wasn't fair - Glynda had protested Ozpin's swift moving forward with Pyrrha. He had not. In the end, she'd done more to spare the young girl than him. "Believe me, these aren't the kind of powers you want some deranged killer to be on the loose with."

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Pyrrha asked, looking around the vaults, then back to Qrow. Glynda's hand never left her shoulder, partly to guide her, but partly to show support. "Why not wait? I'm only a first year student..."

"Honestly, it's because we're out of time. The arrival of the Atlesian air fleet has... forced our hand. In the wake of the Coldslate bombing, Atlas has been very forceful with the Vale Council. They used the bombing as an excuse to demand military authority in the region, or else there would be..."

"No." Pyrrha gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. "War?" Ozpin nodded.

"He cares not for the Kingdom of Vale... merely what's buried beneath. And he cannot be allowed to have it." Ozpin didn't elaborate further. The threat that Ironwood was willing to go to war for whatever was buried here was more than enough. Qrow noted how he had little need to elaborate on the real enemy here. After all, he pondered, no matter how different their paths were, Ironwood was ultimately on their side against Salem. But then, he supposed Ozpin wanted to keep Pyrrha fearful of the Atlesian General. He wondered if that was part of the reason he had selected an Argian for his Maiden candidate. It made that fear easy to believe, and hard to shake. "He is not the only one who would vie for the powers of the Fall Maiden. For the first time in history, the Fall Maiden was attacked... and part of her powers were stolen."

Of course, he didn't mention who had done the attacking.

They came upon what looked like two metal coffins, connected via a series of tubes, with a computer console sat in the middle. The one on the left was shut, with blue lights faintly glowing, vital signs represented on the screen of the terminal before them. Pyrrha slowly walked up to the coffin, resting a hand on its metal hull. "Gods... she's alive in there..."

"For now. But soon, she will pass away. We aren't sure how much longer the medical machines will keeper stable. Not that it matters now anyway, with Atlas breathing down our throats." Ozpin said, turning his attention from the pods back to Pyrrha. The empty pod sat open, cushioned on the inside, as if calling out for a host.

"Again... Why are you telling me this?" Pyrrha asked, looking between Qrow, Glynda and Ozpin.

Glynda stepped forward. "We're still the same people who have been eager to help you grow and develop during your time at Beacon, Pyrrha..."

"Don't." Qrow said, looking back towards Glynda. "Don't you dare lie to her, not when she's about to put her life on the line." Qrow glared, his brows pushed into a scowl. Of course, she'd be offered a choice in the matter. But he knew that, in truth, there was no choice.

Ozpin shook the spat away. "We can tell you more... once you've accepted the offer. Pyrrha Nikos, we've brought you here because you are next in line to become the Fall Maiden." Pyrrha stared blankly at them for a moment, shock coursing through her, her face cycling through varying stages of grief and acceptance. Ozpin pressed on. "Should you accept, you will inherit the powers of the Fall Maiden with the help of the machine behind you." Then, he finally spoke up. "I... understand money, is an issue at home. If you accept this duty, I will personally ensure that your family is taken care of. Lien, medical care, housing... whatever is desired." Qrow and Glynda both shot him a glare at him as he used that one last piece of leverage against her.

"This is... monstrous." Pyrrha turned back to the pod, wincing as she stared at the unseen form of the Fall Maiden in her coma. "She's been suspended like this for... how long?"

"Six years." Ozpin answered honestly.

"This defies everything that's decent. Holding a soul in limbo like that... Refusing her right to pass on... And... And then, what of me? What happens if I take her essence, her soul?" Pyrrha asked, fearful at the implications.

Ozpin smiled sweetly, the lie forming before either of his companions could think to interrupt him. "Not a thing. You may hear... echoes, of Amber, the previous Fall Maiden. But this procedure comes with no side effects. You will still be you - the woman we need you to be. The danger comes from the fact that you must keep this a secret from everyone, except the three of us. Gods only know who might want to target a Maiden who only has some of the powers, and we have no way of knowing how much were taken, and how much you will receive." Qrow wanted to speak up, and he could see Glynda did, as well. And yet, they were bound by some invisible force. Would it really be that easy? Allow him to lie to her, just to make sure Ironwood couldn't get his hands on Amber?

Pyrrha was silent for a moment, keeping her hand on the machine before her, before she hung her head. "Then... I will be your Fall Maiden." When she was met with silence, she turned to face them. "That's... what you wanted, isn't it?" She asked, looking around the group. Qrow felt a pang of fear in his soul. It was Amber, all over again. He could see the train barreling towards him but he just wasn't able to leap off of the tracks. She had been a staunch believer in actively using her powers to help the world around her, right up until it had forced Ozpin's hand. By the end, shortly after Jules had died, Amber was outright antagonistic to Ozpin, so tired of his secrets, so sick of his eternal war. How long would Pyrrha willingly sit at his feet like a good little Fall Maiden? Would she even do so to begin with? Surely Oz knew this system couldn't last much longer...

"...Thank you. The transfer awaits, Miss Nikos." Ozpin gestured to the open pod. Qrow walked to Glynda's side, placing a hand delicately on her shoulder, leaning into whisper something softly, and she nodded in turn. Something the two of them would take to their graves, but something Glynda needed to hear, and could only hear from him.

"Whatever happens, we won't do it again." He vowed to Glynda, nodding at her while maintaining eye contact, silently asking if she understood. Glynda stared at him from behind her glasses, her eyes wide with the terror of the moment. She nodded her head slowly at first, then more firmly.

Pyrrha approached the open pod, turning back to face Ozpin. "And... you're certain that... if something goes wrong, my mother..." She was oblivious to Qrow and Glynda's silent exchange.

Ozpin nodded. "I promise." He said, firmly.

Pyrrha slowly approached the open pod, taking one last, deep breath. She climbed into the pod, watching as the padded, metal lid closed shut. She squeezed her eyes shut, her fingers clasping the hem of her school uniform's skirt, pinned at her side. It didn't last long until a mechanical whir began to stir, and a dim, orange glow filled the pod.

"You... aren't Cinder." A woman's voice said, sounding more frustrated than surprised. Then, Pyrrha screamed, her eyes bulging open. Every neuron in her body lit as if she had been set ablaze. The glow radiated from her form as she thrashed in the pod, punching at the outside. She tried in vein to use her semblance, knowing she could rip the pod open. It was metal, after all. And yet, it didn't respond, the metal stuck in place. Tears flowed freely as she shrieked, pounding on the pod, begging for help in progressively-more unintelligible sobs and wails of anguish.

On the outside, Glynda rushed to the metal pod, stopped in place by Qrow. "No. It's too dangerous. We have to wait this out."

"She's dying in there!" Glynda screamed, trying to get to the glowing pod. Pyrrha's vitals were all over the board on the monitor. Much more of this, and her heart would give out.

"She may." Ozpin said, resting his hands on his cane as he stared at the vitals. Qrow did a doubletake.

"What do you mean 'she may', Oz?" Qrow asked indignantly, his temper finally flaring up as he looked towards the man he'd followed for decades with murderous fury.

"Either way... we may rest assured that James Ironwood will not have the powers of the Fall Maiden, no matter what game he pulls here in Vale. And thus, he cannot reclaim the relics, only to carelessly lose them to Salem. The human race will survive the road to hell his good intentions have paved. Sadly, even in the chance Miss Nikos dies today, she will still be saving the world." He took a long sigh. "I am sorry it came to this. However, James' haste forced my hand."

"You said the same damned thing about Amber, Oz. How many of us are expendable when it comes to your plans?!" Qrow demanded, perhaps a decade and change too late. Perhaps, if he'd asked that sooner, Amber would still be alive. Maybe even Summer. Gods, this was his fault, and his fault alone.

Suddenly, a flatline beeped from the vitals, Pyrrha's heartrate flatlining. Her screaming fell silent, the power in the pods fluctuating. Glynda slowly collapsed to her knees, a look of horror on her face. "No..."

Qrow looked away, taking a swig of his flask. "Sorry, kid..."

Ozpin bowed his head, before slowly turning to walk away. "She gave her life for the good of humanity. We must now begin to search for who obtained the power. When you two have... come to terms with this loss, meet me in my office. We have much to discuss."

Chapter Text

Pyrrha's eyes fluttered open, and she was bathed in a universe of dim, white light. She looked around herself, struggling to ascertain where she was. She could feel herself standing, but on what, she wasn't sure. When she cast her gaze downwards, she could see that she stood upright, but she had no shadow, nor solid ground to stand on. It was alarmingly disconcerting. What's more was that she stood in her usual battle regalia, as opposed to the uniform she'd worn climbing into the pod.

"You aren't Cinder." The voice repeated itself. Pyrrha looked up with a gasp, her eyes falling on a strange sight. Before her stood a taller woman, with tanned skin and deep, brown hair. She had rich, brown eyes creased into a deep scowl. Her dress was very standard for a Vale huntress, with armored boots and an armband on what Pyrrha assumed was her offhand. A long, green cape flowed behind her. Her arms were to her side, her left toe tapping impatiently, as if she awaited an explanation.

"I'm... sorry..? Who are you?" Pyrrha asked, taking a step forward. She extended her own hand, reaching out for the person, wobbling slightly on her feet - unsure of the otherworldly topography, or lack there of, around her.

The woman before her lifted a hand to her face, rubbing her palm back and forth as she shook her head. "Of course. They were bound to find somebody else. So that's what the damned pod was for."

"You're not making any sense..." Pyrrha tried as she continued to approach. "Am I dead..?"

"Don't be so melodramatic. You're not the one dying, here." The woman crossed her arms. "My name is Amber Rainart. I am... or was... the Fall Maiden. I guess you're the poor soul they chose to be the next one." She shook her head disapprovingly. "My wife was supposed to get the powers. But, here you stand instead."

As she spoke, Pyrrha's eyes widened. She was actually having a conversation with the Fall Maiden. The transfer was working. But why did she seem so angry about that? "I... I don't understand."

"Obviously not." She said, her arms still crossed.

"No, I mean... I was told your attacker stole some of your power. They placed you here to keep you stable until your successor could be chosen. But you're saying that you had already chosen a successor. This... Cinder, you mentioned. So... why did you not transfer the powers and pass on?" She asked, curiously. Pyrrha watched as a strange look took Amber. Anger, then pain, then... sympathy. Slowly, the Fall Maiden approached her, resting her hands on Pyrrha's pale shoulders.

"I need to tell you something. This is the only time we will be able to directly communicate. From now on, I will exist as a flicker in the back of your mind, at most. So I need you to listen to me, and I need you to trust me. Can you do that, Pyrrha Nikos?" When Pyrrha nodded, not bothering to waste time asking how the Fall Maiden knew her name, Amber proceeded. "I'm assuming he did not tell you who it was that attacked me." A shake of the head, and Amber pressed on. "It was Ozpin."

"What?!" Pyrrha asked, her emerald eyes widening in shock. "Headmaster Ozpin attacked you?! I... I can't believe that..."

"Damn it, I literally just told you to trust me! Gods... You'll either last longer than I did, or die a hell of a lot faster. No, he didn't do it directly. Ozpin never does. But he dispatched his most trusted agents after me. We fought back, but not well enough." Pyrrha wanted to ask why, trying to mentally list who his most trusted could be. It had to be Qrow, that man she'd met, and Glynda, her combat professor. But they had seemed so upset at her taking this burden. They didn't seem like killers. Could they be?

"Why..?" Pyrrha asked, upon realizing that Amber had no real reason to lie to her.

"Because I threatened the Stalemate. I don't have time to explain, but understand there are many forces at work in this world. Forces of destruction, forces of action. Ozpin represents neither - simply the preservation of the status quo. For now, you'll need to march to the beat of that drum. But Salem isn't playing for stalemates, she's playing to win. Sooner or later, you will need to act. When you do, you need to beware - he'll be watching." Amber watched on, then sighed.

"I still don't understand what I'm even supposed to do." Pyrrha admitted, looking down in defeat.

"He really just crammed you into the machine without much care or concern, didn't he?" Pyrrha nodded, and Amber made a 'tsk'. "He told you even less than he told me. As the Fall Maiden, you will have a greatly expanded pool of aura. Your semblance will be stronger. You'll have more strength, more speed, and a wider range of abilities. Fire, ice, wind... anything you can think to muster, really. Actually, real magic - no Dust required. However, all of that is secondary - and it's advised you keep those abilities a carefully-guarded secret. Your primary function is the opening of the reliquaries. Around the four kingdoms, there are relics that are stored in a vault at each of the huntsman academies. You are the only person on Remnant who can access those vaults. If you combine the four relics, you will be able to banish Salem. It falls to you to assemble a team of people you can trust with this knowledge. Because, if it were up to Ozpin, you would never worry about any of this. You'd spend your life as a powerful and gifted woman, probably finishing as a professor here at the academy. But Salem isn't out there waiting like Ozpin is. Sooner or later, the stalemate will break. It's up to you to ensure humanity is on the winning side of that."

"But... I am assuming that's usually done with the full powers of the Fall Maiden. And... I'm only getting part of you. How do I..." she didn't quite know what she was asking, or how to properly word it.

"Glynda Goodwitch is the woman who struck me down. I tried to think of Cinder Fall, my wife, but I never saw her here, like you. If I could hazard a guess, Glynda killed her as well, to be certain she would be the recipient of my power. You'll need to handle that in time, but remember - Ozpin is watching. If he suspects you're going off the playbook, then you'll be rushing to explain all of this to your successor like I am now, and like the woman before me. While we may have countless cycles to get this right, humanity does not. So above all else, be careful. Try to play along for now. Just remember - Ozpin is not who he seems to be." She squeezed her eyes shut, sighing. "I'm fading. I guess that means it's your turn, and I can finally rest. Try to use the powers you have to help as many people as you can. Find a group of people you can trust, and do so fully. It makes everything easier. And remember, you're more than a weapon - never allow yourself to be used as such." Amber managed a smile as she offered her hand to Pyrrha, who took it with a firm shake. "Good luck as the Fall Maiden, Pyrrha Nikos."

Pyrrha gasped awake in her pod, her vitals beeping to life once more on the monitor outside. Slowly, Ozpin, Qrow and Glynda turned about to stare at the pod, watching as steam hissed from its joints, the metal coffin sliding open. Pyrrha was still reeling inside from what she'd seen, if she could even trust her own eyes. Her body was far too sore to move at great speed, but she slowly sat up, her hair messy and frayed from her struggle before she'd blacked out. She stared down at her hands, then back up again. Glynda was knelt before her pod in tears, or she had been before the pod had opened. Pyrrha stared at her for a prolonged period, Amber's words coursing through her mind. This woman, weeping at the foot of her transfer pod, had killed Amber? It just didn't seem possible. Qrow was just behind her, a look of genuine relief on his face. She wasn't sure where he fell into all of this, but the look on his face conveyed the same mixed messages to Pyrrha. He had, according to Amber, plaid some part in her death. But how? It explained the drinking she'd noticed a few times since she'd first seen him - if Pyrrha had been forced to kill somebody, she'd probably have picked up a drinking habit, too.

Lastly, she turned to Ozpin. He had a wide smile on his face, as if beholding the most beautiful thing in the world. Before this, her heart would have soared to see such a sight from such a seemingly noble man. But now, she felt a knot in her gut. In light of what she'd been told, she felt a lot more like a piece of meat before a wild hound. She blinked as she looked away, clearing her throat. "That... was not without side effects." It was the first thing to come out. It was the only thing she could think to say.

"Miss Nikos. We had believed you had died. Perhaps a... complication, due to your gender identity?" He suggested, tilting his head slightly more to the side. "All the same, the powers of the Fall Maiden chose you, and we're all pleased to see you survived. How do you feel?" Pyrrha didn't know how she felt. She felt weak, but felt power screaming in her veins. She felt more afraid than she'd ever been in her life, but felt as though she could never be stopped. She had answers about a few things she'd rather not have known, and a million questions left unanswered.

"Yeah... that's about how it was with your predecessor, too." Qrow said, a smirk on his face. Pyrrha couldn't stop the worried look on her face when she met Qrow's eyes, and he had definitely seen it, too. So, too, had Glynda, who had once more stood up, doing her best to wipe her eyes. That was, until she'd caught that look from Pyrrha. There was an understanding between the three, and Pyrrha seemed to recoil in certain fear. She'd only been the Fall Maiden for a few minutes and she'd already messed up. It was Qrow that stepped forward. "Woah, easy there, kiddo." He turned towards Ozpin, downplaying her reaction. "Oz, she needs a breather. Why don't you let us handle this? If you're gone too long, people will begin to ask questions. Wouldn't want Jimmy ramming his nose around down here."

"A good idea, Qrow. Good day, and thank you again, Miss Nikos. We will be in touch." He nodded, then turned to walk away. There was a silence in the room, tension coursing between the three people left in Ozpin's wake. A flurry of traded glances, uncertainty, and everything in between. When the elevator door hissed shut and made a faintly-audible chime, Pyrrha lunged backwards out of the pod, sending a fist arcing forward. She watched as her semblance replied with more power than she'd ever seen. She'd meant to send the hinged lid of the coffin-pod towards them, but instead, ripped the entire unit from the ground, forcing Qrow and Glynda to quickly dodge away or else be crushed. Pyrrha landed, the loafers of her uniform sliding slightly on the slick floor. In her uniform, and unarmed, she didn't have a lot of options, but she could make distance. So, she ran.

"Pyrrha, wait!" Glynda called, but Pyrrha did not answer. She was sprinting at full speed, rushing towards the elevator as swiftly as she could. She felt a strong pair of arms grip her from behind, tackling her to the floor.

"Gods damn it kid, wait!" Qrow wrestled her down. Pyrrha tried to resist and fight as hard as she could, but even with the boost that the fraction of Amber's power had given her, she was still too drained from the process to give her best. Qrow pinned her to the ground on her side, straddling her over her upper legs, while Glynda rushed up with a desperate pant to her breath.

"I know what you did... She told me you killed her!" Pyrrha spat out, glaring up with all the hate she could muster. In for a lien, in for a pound. She'd known the second they'd all traded those glances that she knew what they'd done. She might as well make their inevitable murder of her hurt all the more. She squeezed her eyes shut, clearing her mind whilst trying to think of Nora, the only other girl she could think to trust, with every fiber of her being.

Qrow and Glynda traded a look, then looked down at her in unison. Qrow sighed. "Yeah. I know. Relax, we aren't going to kill you."

"I don't trust you." She replied, curtly, then returned her thoughts to Nora.

"Qrow and I agreed that what happened with Amber would not happen again." Glynda closed her eyes. "I dealt the mortal blow to Amber. That is true, as she no doubt told you. But please, believe me when I say that I have regrated it every day of my life since then. But you have to understand, it was for the survival of the human race. What she hoped to do, while noble, would doom us all. Ozpin had to act."

"The old man's sacrificed, and made sacrifices, countless times in his war with Salem." Qrow explained, still pinning Pyrrha down, knowing she was likely to bolt once more if he moved from her legs. At his age, he'd rather not chase down run-away Maidens more times than he could help it. "She told you about the relics, didn't she? And that she'd wanted to bring them all together to fight Salem? Well, did she tell you what could happen if the relics were brought together, but Salem got control of them?" Finally, Pyrrha stopped squirming, staring up at him. She still didn't know who this 'Salem' was, but she drew inferences that she was some vile enemy of all mankind. "Yeah, I didn't think so. Listen, ki-- Pyrrha. If the relics are united, they can banish Salem. She the immortal who, so far as we know, is the lead figure behind the organized grimm attacks on humanity. That's true. But the relics aren't some auto-win button in some video game. You still have to be able to beat her before you use them, which isn't a guaranteed win. If you fall, and she takes the relics, she becomes unstoppable. A goddess of destruction that can end the world as we know it. We'd never have another shot at taking her down." Pyrrha stared up at him in horror, showing she understood what he was saying. "Checkmate." He closed his eyes, moving to stand up. Pyrrha didn't scamper and run, so he extended a hand to help her back up.

"She wouldn't listen. She called Ozpin a coward, and pressed on. Her recklessness almost led her to opening the Beacon Vault, and she wasn't going to stop there." Glynda looked down. "In short... Amber herself was the very thing that Ozpin fears James Ironwood represents. No matter how... cold, maintaining the Stalemate is by far the better alternative to total extinction." Glynda's shoulders sagged. "Amber was like a sister to me. I was the maid of honor at her wedding. But... it had to be done. She would not step back from her decision. Did she... tell you anything else?"

"She... said I should speak to you, in time, about how to retrieve the rest of my powers from you." Pyrrha barely noticed how she'd called the power hers, already accepting it in the face of so many other dangerous mysteries.

"I... don't have them. We're unsure where the rest of them went. The intent was for me to obtain them, but I never did. That is why we put her in stasis."

"She mentioned Cinder Fall." Pyrrha offered. "She said she tried to think of her, but that you likely killed her, too."

"No!" Glynda snapped suddenly, her eyes shooting wide. Pyrrha recoiled slightly. "No... To this day, I have no idea what became of Cinder, or Amber's brother, Hazel, after that terrible day. I tried to look for them, to explain why it was so critical that we'd done... well, what we'd done, but..." She shook her head. "I fear they are long gone. For now, you will simply need to nurse the power you do have. You shouldn't be in a rush to be opening vaults, so it will make no difference to you for the time being."

Pyrrha turned one last time to the wreckage of the pods, Amber's still intact and unmoved. Pyrrha had been careful, even in her uncontrollable semblance flare, not to damage it. "Is... she gone?" She looked back towards Qrow and Glynda, who both gave slow, sad nods. Pyrrha turned back to the pod, closing her eyes. She vowed in that moment to do right by the previous Maiden. Some way, somehow, she'd get to the bottom of this. It's simply as Amber had said - she would need to be patient, and she'd need to be a hell of a lot more careful. "She warned me that Ozpin shouldn't know that we spoke."

"And he won't." Qrow nodded. "Your secret's safe with us. I will not kill another Fall Maiden, and I know Glynda feels the same. Just... don't be reckless. And for the love of the gods and all things above, get a hint of subtlety to you. You've got the poker face of a drunk debtor..." He sighed, sparing one last door to the elevator. "From now on, Pyrrha, you're playing a very dangerous game of cat-and-mouse, every minute of every day. If you don't play it right, you will die. It's as simple as that."

"I didn't want this to be thrust upon you." Glynda spoke up with a sigh. "I'm sorry, Pyrrha. We'll guide you as best as we can. Even Ozpin. I assure you, he's a good man with the best intentions for all of humanity in mind. For now, you've fulfilled your mission. I highly doubt James Ironwood will look to you when prying for the Fall Maiden. So keep your head low. In the coming weeks, all of this will begin to make sense. Again... thank you, Pyrrha Nikos, for agreeing to this."

Pyrrha allowed herself to be escorted from the vault back to the elevator, and into the elevator lobby. She barely registered the walk across campus, hardly noticing the idle waves of fellow students or the sights of the afternoon sky. She did however look to the looming shadow of the Atlesian warship overhead, now joined by two more at other points in the Vale skyline. She felt deep dread upon seeing them, Ozpin and Glynda's words replaying in her mind about Ironwood's hunt for the Fall Maiden. She finally returned to her dorm, her hand hovering over the doorknob for the longest time, unsure of how to proceed. In the end, she simply opened the door. She stepped inside, watching as a pair of eyes glanced back to her. It was Jaune and Nora, who had been playing Jaune's Ybox. "Oh, hey Pyrrha!" Nora waved her hand, her ears shooting straight up. "We were hoping you'd be back soon! Ren's almost done making dinner!"

"Yeah! Plop down with us - we just booted up Ringworld! It's the campaign, so we can crank the difficulty back for you!" Jaune offered, hurrying to his feet to hunt for the third controller to plug in. Pyrrha, still stunned from everything she'd been through, sat down on the bed beside Nora, a numb look on her face. Jaune tossed her a controller she managed to catch just in time, before walking back to the bed. He leaned forward before he sat, planting a kiss on Pyrrha's forehead as he sat beside her, leaning on her slightly as the game resumed.

And Pyrrha went through the motions. Her mind was moving a million miles a minute, and none of it involved killing eight-feet-tall aliens with suspiciously-modern munitions. The fact that her life could even resemble this kind of normalcy seemed so far beyond farcical to her. Here she was, the Fall Maiden, having just learned that she could hardly trust a soul in the world, her entire world upended, and yet nothing had changed for the closest friends in her life. She didn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

So, she just played video games instead, doing her best to forget the whole thing. At least for now. There was nothing else for it. Not yet, anyway.

Chapter Text

Neo watched as Roman rushed around their small apartment, feverishly searching for his 'essentials'. "Come on, Neo! I told you to put our bug-out bags in an easy to find location!" What a dolt. Neo smirked and shook her head, her hands setting into motion. Despite his feverish commitment to hurrying, he made enough time to stop and watch Neo's sign language.

'Maybe if we'd actually practiced bugging out, you'd know where your bags were.' She said, her smirk widening.

"Don't speak at me in that tone of voice, missy." Roman leveled a finger at her, though there was no real venom behind the 'threat'. Despite having more to put on, makeup to apply, hair to style and the likes, Neo stood fully dressed in her usual attire. Roman, however, was in his black slacks, his belt tied, and wearing a white tank top. He still needed to finish getting dressed.

Neo rolled her bicolored eyes. 'Quit freaking out and get dressed. I'll,' she stopped signing, pointing at herself for emphasis, 'get your damned bag.'

"This is so fucked up, Neo..." Roman grumbled, stomping to the closet of their one-bedroom apartment. They shared the one room, with Neo being given the bed and Roman sleeping on a small sofa in the corner. It was one of the many ways the infamous crime lord looked after Neo, doing his best to be a better father figure than the man who had sired him. The drunk bastard. "We do one big job! Just one! And now, we got the whole fucking Atlesian sky fleet coming after us!" Neo listened from the other room as she went cabinet to cabinet, looking for the pair of duffle bags they had packed with lien, dust, toiletries and a single two-way radio each. Neo always found an inclusion of a radio in her bag was a bit silly, but Roman had instructed her that, if she needed to find him, to look for a kindly soul who would talk for her.

Though, he wasn't wrong. As Neo heard him ramble on and on about how cold and unfair it was, all the while the ruffling of fabric and the sounds of chaotic dressing filled in as ambience, she couldn't help but think about how they'd really kicked the hornet's nest this time. In all her wildest dreams, she never once would have imagined doing anything that would spark such a strong reaction. She did well to hide it, but she was beyond terrified.

Her terror only increased when a knock came from the door, followed by a rough, masculine voice. "Atlas Special Services. We have you surrounded, Roman Torchwick." It was smooth, but carried a deadly sincerity.

"Come quietly and you won't be harmed." A second voice, feminine, said in an almost mocking light.

Despite her high heels and the questionable quality of their wood flooring, Neo silently maneuvered towards the wall behind the sofa, facing the front door. She took her umbrella and Roman's cane from a small umbrella holder beside the couch. As Roman came out, now in his boots but still in the tank top, he took his cane and aimed it at the door. Neo did the same with her umbrella. "Actually, if it's all the same to you, I rather fancy my chances fighting my way out!" Roman yelled out with a cocky voice, but then immediately looked to Neo. Neo nodded in understanding, swiveling her umbrella towards the nearby, curtain-covered window of the living room. Roman Torchwick? Go down swinging? Her sinister smirk returned at the thought. No, they'd smash the windows and be gone in a flash, thanks to Neo's semblance.

"I told the both of you not to play this prank." Another, more mature feminine voice warned. "The last thing I need is the two of you getting shot before the semester starts." Neo and Roman exchanged a mutual 'what the hell?' look with one another, before the voice continued. "Roman, It's your... employer. May we have a word?"

"Dollface? I'm gonna need a name before I agree to opening up that door." Roman said, narrowing his eyes. He recognized Cinder from their planning of the Coldslate Heist, but it was an unspoken rule in the underground. If you were being coerced by police, you'd give the wrong name. Professional courtesy and all that.

"Cinder Fall." The woman said in return, leading Neo and Torchwick to sigh in relief.

"The door, Neo." Roman ordered gently as he twirled his cane about, resting his right arm on the implement when it tapped the ground. Neo stepped forward gingerly, popping the door open. As she did, and came face-to-face with Cinder, she lifted a finger gun with her right hand just before Cinder's face, her finger an inch from Cinder's nose, making a 'thbt' noise when she simulated pulling the trigger.

"Charming girl." Cinder mused, walking past the doorframe. Behind her trailed that freaky girl Roman really, really didn't like with the mint hair and freaky eyes. Also entering was a newer figure. He was a tall man, with silver hair spiked back atop his head. Both of them wore a matching uniform of black boots, white slacks, and blue button-up military jackets. In the man's arms were a bundle of clothing that he offered Neo, who took it with a wince.

Neo's hands went in motion while she used her arms to hold the clothing. 'I am not,' she took the time to sign out each letter again for emphasis, 'n-o-t wearing that.' Mercury smirked at her, shaking his head.

"I don't read sign language, sweetheart." He moved on, heading towards the apartment's kitchen.

"So, uh, what can I help you with? I assumed our business was concluded." Roman asked, still leaning on his cane.

"Oh, not quite. Phase one was completed, but I have so much work left to do. And, I was hoping you'd be willing to go the distance with me." Cinder said with a smile, keeping her arms crossed as she stood a few feet from him. She could tell by the fact he wasn't ogling her like the first time they'd met that he was in a rather serious state of mind.

"Nope. Neo and I are done. I respect that you're a beautiful woman with big ideas, but the Atlas military makes this so hot it's radioactive. We're through." He shook his head.

"Don't," Cinder said, raising a finger, "worry about Atlas. That's part of the reason we're here today." She reached behind her, and without need for instruction, the freaky mint-head girl walked up, placing a plastic card in Cinder's hand. Cinder then offered it forward to Roman, who took it. It showed a picture of Neopolitan, with her name listed as Neo Politan, identified her as a registered Atlesian citizen, and a huntress-in-training at Atlas Academy. "My contact in Atlas has need of a trio of students to form around his daughter for sake of making a team. I was just thrilled to oblige. I feel Phase Two would greatly benefit from having a small team at Beacon Academy, don't you think?"

"Uh, well, I don't know what 'phase two' is." Roman handed the fake id back to Cinder.

"For the best. Alas, we would really benefit from young Neo getting her big college chance." Cinder looked Neo's way, before handing her the card. "What do you say, girl?"

Neo stared down at the card. She was surprised, to say the very least. Roman had not mentioned this to her, however he had, on multiple occasions, said he wanted her to get into an Academy some day. She looked up towards Roman, who sighed and put forth his best smile. "Your choice, kid." He said with a nod. "I mean that. We all have to grow up sometime. Whatever choice you make, I support you. It won't be as... fun, without you around, but I'll manage until you get that big, fancy license of yours. Then we'll get into some real fun." Roman said with a smile. He didn't know how long the infiltration would be, but he knew it'd be long enough for her to attend a class or two. Neo had always wanted to go to an Academy. Here was her chance, and he'd be a terrible man to deny her.

Neo, for her part, looked like she was about to cry, as if Cinder had handed her an actual acceptance letter from Beacon Academy. She looked to Cinder, whose usual cocky smirk was replaced with a surprised, if not genuine smile. Cinder had no idea of these feelings, naturally, but something in her heart turned over. It reminded her why many wanted to be huntsmen and huntresses, the hope it instilled. Poor Neo had no idea just how very badly that trust could be manipulated by the man in charge...

Neo gave a nod. "Good. Go get changed." Cinder said, watching as Neo whisked away. "You know she won't be attending for the full two years, right?" Cinder addressed Roman.

Roman nodded slowly. "I told you when we met, I'm not in the business of making promises to women that I can't keep." He watched as the bedroom door shut. "I always promised her I'd try to find a way to get her into an Academy. I even take great care to make sure she only goes with me on jobs without cameras. Her criminal record is clean as a whistle. Whatever plan you've got for Beacon, it gets her in the door. Then, when your mission's done... I don't know, maybe she sees it through? Gets that license?" He said, almost hopefully.

Cinder felt a pang in her heart as she stepped up to Roman, patting his back. "You're a good man, Roman Torchwick."

He immediately recoiled, sticking his tongue out like he'd tasted something sour. "Oh gods, don't make it weird." He barked out, forcing a rumble of chuckles from the room. "So, gonna introduce me?" He gestured to the new boy and mint-head.

"Mercury," Cinder said as she pointed to the boy, "and Emerald." He gestured to the girl. Both were silent, as it was not their turn to speak. "They've been working with me for a long time. I trust them implicitly. Rest assured, my willingness to let your companion in on the plot is a ringing endorsement of your services, Roman."

"Ah, I'm flattered." He said with a chuckle.

"Don't think I've forgotten about you. I have need for you as well. There is a train being prepared on an abandoned line. The dust that was stolen is to be shipped to some of my favorite partners in Mistral. They have big plans. The train will be departing in two weeks' time, headed for Mountain Glenn, where they will pick up the shipments. I need you to oversee that transaction. As with the heist, you will be paid very handsomely." Cinder explained.

"So... just make sure the train reaches your client? That's it?" He asked, furrowing his brow slightly. When Cinder nodded, he gave it a careless shrug. "A bit beneath me, but I love a good payday." When Neo emerged from the room, dressed in her Atlas uniform, Roman smiled. "Looking sharp, kid." She snapped a brisk salute. He turned to face Cinder with a smile. "Mind if I have a word with her?"

"Go ahead." Cinder allowed. Roman took Neo by the arm, leading her back into the bedroom. He shut the door, whispering carefully.

"I don't like this. She's shipping me out on some abandoned train line, and she's got you here in the lion's den. Enjoy the opportunity, but keep your guard up, kid. We won't be able to back each other up if this goes sideways, and something just ain't right. You promise me that, Neo. Whatever happens, look out for yourself." Neo nodded, and Roman sighed in relief. "Good kid... I love you. Stay safe." He pulled her into a tight hug, which Neo readily accepted. A part of Roman wondered if this would be the last time the two got the chance to embrace. And so, he made it count for every second it was worth. He loved her like a daughter, and he only hoped that she saw him as a better dad than the one he'd gotten. If getting busted, or worse, was the price to pay for Neo getting her dream, he'd happily bear it with a grin - as much as he'd love to stay alive and do more crime. "Take care of yourself." He said, barely noticing how his voice croaked, or how his cheeks felt a little wet.

Neo stepped back, her own eyes puffy at the goodbye. She quickly signed out 'You too, boss.' Offering her best, trembling smile. 'No matter what, I'll find you.' Despite her shaking hands, she managed the sign language flawlessly. She then stepped back, gave a deep bow befitting a stage actor, and left out of the door.

She knew he didn't have it in him to watch her go.

When she stepped into the room, Cinder had ducked out, but Emerald and Mercury were still standing there. Unlike Mercury, who had said he couldn't understand her, Emerald smiled, then began to sign. 'I can do sign language.'

'Neat. I'm just mute, though. I can hear you.' Neo signed, then tapped her ear with a smile.

"Ah. Well, it's certainly nice to meet you. Cinder speaks highly of what you accomplished infiltrating Slate Dustworks." Emerald gave a polite smile.

"Yeah. Got a little sloppy, though. The Foreman lived, but he's too rattled to describe much of anything." Mercury shrugged. "Beginner mistake. But don't worry, we're gonna help you work on that."

'I'm no beginner.' Neo narrowed her eyes, signing tersely.

"Right." Mercury offered a cat-like grin.

Emerald sighed, waving her hands. "So, we'll be following one Penny Polendina. She'll be our team leader, but Cinder says she can be easily manipulated. We'll be forming Team Peppermint, with the cover story that we're here ahead of the Vytal Tournament. Just another one of Atlas' many teams eager to represent our home kingdom."

"Which is how we're getting inside and making our moves." Mercury continued filling Neo in. "Cinder wants us to upload a nifty little virus I designed a year or so back. Ever heard of the Queen Virus?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Neo shook her head. "Because it was never caught. I used it to hack into half the banks in Vale and skim off the top. They never even detected the thing. Total backdoor access, administrative privileges, the works. We stick it into Beacon's server, and we'll have a backdoor, administrative access to any device that connects to Beacon's primary server. Cinder wants it uploaded to Beacon, so that's our primary objective. I don't expect it to be too hard."

"Then, we just keep our eyes open, and we report anything... interesting, that we see." Emerald finished off with a grin. "Don't worry, schoolgirl. You'll get to attend your classes and play huntress." Neo stuck her tongue out at Emerald, who chuckled softly. "So full of personality..."

'So, we plant a virus, then sit and wait?' Neo signed out with a questioning look.

"And train in preparation for Vytal. Cinder has big plans for the tournament, and we need to be ready to act on them. Consider the time in advance of that as... an investment. We want everyone to trust us, don't we?" Neo nodded, but she was beginning to agree with Roman. Something about this operation was off. Whatever these people wanted, they were after a whole lot more than lien and dust. She wondered if their contact in Atlas knew about this. She spared one last look to the bedroom, then took a deep breath, nodding her head. She'd play along, for now. But Roman had told her to keep her guard up. And she had no intentions in dropping it around these two anytime soon.