A small grave.

That was all that remained of three-year-old Ruby Rose, killed by Grimm.

It was next to her mothers, Summer Rose, who had died failing to protect Ruby.

The two were located on the edge of a cliff, on the island of Patch.

No one was allowed there but family.

But there are always those who seek the forbidden.

Especially those servants of darkness.


The shadow alighted on the edge of the cliff.

It coalesced into its true form.

It was one of the Nathrezim.

For those of you who do not know of them, you must be aware.

Nathrezim, or Dreadlords, are demons of The Burning Legion.

An infinite army that seeks the death of all living.

They use anything to fulfill their goal.

This Nathrezim is named Azaria.

One of the few female dreadlords, she is one of the most dangerous.

For few see females as threats.

Azaria glided over the grave of Summer Rose.

She knelt at Ruby's.

Focusing her power into the earth, Azaria pulled Ruby's coffin from the earth.

Azaria pulled it open. And grinned.

For while the wounds were deep, and fatal, they could be fixed.

Azaria took a taloned finger, put it to her wrist, and sliced it open.

She poured her Fel blood on Ruby's corpse.

Azaria saw Ruby's wounds heal, and felt the aura of demons come from her.

Azaria grinned. A new member of the Legion.

She tried to pull her hand away from Ruby's corpse, intending to heal her wrist.

Keyword: Tried.

She found her arm stuck in place. Azaria glared at her arm, only to look at in shock.

It was freezing in place, her Fel essence stuck pouring into the girl.

The freezing aura spread over Azaria quickly, freezing her essence there.

Evermore, Azaria's corpse would kneel over the resting place of Ruby Rose.

Except... It was no longer her resting place.

For Fel twists all it comes into contact with.

Even the dead.

Ruby Rose opened her eyes.

They were still silver.

She pulled herself from the grave, and laid there, finishing the absorption of Azaria's Fel essence.

Ruby began to scream and thrash.

Black markings flowed from the bottom of her eyes to the edge of her face.

Her hands grew talons, long, sharp, and black.

Her toenails sharpened, and turned just as black.

Her hair turned red as blood.

Bat wings, large, purple, and villainous, ripped through the black dress she had been buried in.

Her ears lengthened, and grew points.

A pair of curved horns, black as ebony, burst from her head.

But the final horror was when the white of her eyes turned green.

Fel green.

The thrashing stopped, and her scream finally petering out, the Dreadlord that was once Ruby Rose, stood.

The demon tried to remember her past.

Rewritten by Fel, this was no longer Ruby Rose.

Within her soul, the two essences, that of a Silver-Eyed one, and the Fel of a demon, clashed for dominance, keeping her memories under lock and key.

A growl came to what was once Ruby's ears.

She turned to find a Beowulf, one of the weakest of Grimm, crouched, and ready to pounce at her.

Which it did.

What was once Ruby pulled her hand up, in a familiar gesture.

A swarm of black insects interrupted the Beowulf's attack, consuming its flesh in less than a second.

Not-Ruby looked at her hand.

A grin spread across her face.

She turned to the cliff, and stepped off it.

Into the Twisting Nether.


Not-Ruby found herself in the places between worlds, a dimension of demons.

She took several steps forward, and stepped forward.

Back into Remnant.


She found herself in a city.

One that vaguely seemed familiar.

As though...

Not-Ruby gazed at the city of Vale.

Her grin grew wider.

Her eyes fell on an orange-haired male running from several officers of the law.


Roman Torchwick, 17, and a thief, ran from the one chasing him.

He had been abandoned soon after birth by his parents.

Screw them. He thought viciously.

He turned into an alley, one that had a trash can place strategically so that he could jump on it, than over the fence.

He needed to get this food to his sister.

Well, not really his sister, but he had found her as a baby, only seven years ago.

And he had done his best to raise her.

But, unfortunately for her, she had chosen to follow in his path.

Roman ran into a building, and held his breath as he felt Neopolitan's illusion take hold.

The three cops ran past him, intent on the illusionary Roman his sister had created.

Roman sighed, and went further into the abandoned orphanage.

He climbed the two flights to Neo's room.

Neo was sitting upright, but was still weak.

She looked at him, hopefully.

"What do you want first, the bad news or the good news?" He asked her.

She looked dismayed.

"All right, bad news first. We might have to move our base soon."

She looked confused.

"Good news..." He held up what he had been hiding behind his back.

A sack with four loaves of bread, two bags of beef jerky, and a case of water.

She looked delighted.

"That is so little..." spoke a voice.

Roman whirled to find a shadow on the wall was speaking to him.

It had no true physical form, just a black mass in the shape of a young girl.

"I can give you more."

Roman's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, you can give us more?"

The shadow flicked a hand. Several more bags, nearly identical in content to Roman's, appeared in front of it.

"Those are for you. Whether or not you choose to follow me."

"And who are you?"

After a moment, Not-Ruby stepped from the shadows.

The eyes of Roman and Neopolitan both widened in shock.

"I am Miruby Rotheez Ranes. I am your future." She held out her hand. "Follow me, and I can guarantee food and safety."

After a moment, Roman took her hand.