Remnant: The Everdistant Elysium

by Chaos Productions

The Four Kingdoms of Remnant are experiencing an incredible time of peace, and with their combined efforts, the threats of war and strife have been reduced to an all-time low. Now the young Huntsmen and Huntresses in-training are preparing to shoulder the burden of upholding this peace - but unfortunately for them, THIS is one war nobody in Remnant was ever prepared for...

1. Chapter 1

Pre-Chapter Author's Note: And here we go! The start of my more lighthearted story of Servants and Huntsmen. Not much to say here in the beginning, really - you'll find most of the relevant info in the Post-Chapter AN, because I believe Pre-AN's aren't made for rambling.

Just one little tidbit, though: You'll noticed there's a certain someone in this chapter with a... kooky personality, not at all like how he was portrayed in-universe.

This was intentional - more in the post-Chapter AN!

So without further ado...

REMNANT: THE EVERDISTANT ELYSIUM

PROLOGUE:
A Sign of Coming Storms

In the heart of the Grimmlands, an abhuman chorus of monstrous wails and growls and roars drifted upwards from the canopy of a blackened forest, and rose into an abyssal night sky as great beams of white light danced across the treetops, reflected off a shattered moon.

In the harsh lands beneath, a congregation was occurring. The creatures of Grimm were coming from every edge of these blasted lands, drawn by something so enticing, so alluring, that they were robbed of all choice and will in the matter. As a tidal wave of blackness and bone the marched forward, to a vast clearing in the jungle bathed in pale light. Their pace was a lumbering one; from the nimblest Beowolf to the most titanic Goliath, there was little to no haste in their movements despite the vast wrongness that was drawing them to this clearing and pulling on their every string. There was an unnatural, asymmetrical rank and file to their movements as they pushed forwards, entranced by something they could barely comprehend, and occasionally every great beast in their impromptu horde paused to let out an absolutely deafening roar or shriek towards the night sky.

The beasts were starting to huddle around the clearing, bodies of writhing, coiling muscle pressed flush against one another as they struggled, too eager to take a step back, too disconcerted to take a step forwards. Beowolves and Creeps clambered up onto the backs of mighty Goliaths and Griffons and Nevermores circled the night sky, their harsh cries acting as the crescendo to the Grimm's unholy orchestra of inhumane sound. Like enthralled savages they clambered upon one another, forming an coliseum of writhing blackness and fur and bone around the stark clearing, and their unholy song only climbed in volume, in intensity, in ferocity, until it was a certainty those humans who dared stalked this land were now running for the borders with nary a coherent thought in mind.

And at long last, the beasts' patience was rewarded.

The dim night sky above writhed and twisted and twitched and churned, as the very fabric of reality tore itself asunder. The broken moon hovering above was distorted as a seemingly cosmic whirlpool obscured it, the once broken sphere turning into a myriad of alien shapes as space seemed to fold in on itself in mid-air.

Finally, with a loud burst of incomprehensible sound that knocked Griffons and Nevermores from the air by the dozens, a hole was ripped into existence with a flash of red light, hovering there above the clearing and basking the stark space a sickly, disgusting shade of red.

The Grimm responded in kind to this phenomenon; every ounce of harmony and orchestra in their wrath song evaporated as the beasts flew into a frenzy. The walls of blackness shifted like wild ocean waves beneath this otherworldly phenomenon, and the soulless creatures bashing against one another, breaking their bodies against each other in savagery, poured every little bit of breath in their lungs into horrendous roars and shrieks. Goliaths thundered their cry as they rose their trunks skyward, their lumbering forms crushing smaller Grimm underfoot by the dozens per step, and Nevermores and Griffons fell from the sky every other moment, their wings bent and battered as they rocketed into one another in their desperate frenzy.

The wound in the night sky intensified then, crackling as unknown energies lanced through it in bolts of sizzling thunder, and it began to hum as the redness shining from it intensified. The clearing beneath was painted a shade of literal blood, redder than the eyes of the beasts that surrounded it – before a shadow bloomed in the centre as something finally started materializing far above.

Whatever it was, it bubbled and boiled as slowly dripped through the rift in thick rivulets. Every fat, smattering drop that oozed through the wound and plummeted to the ground singed the feathers off every Griffon or Nevermore it touched, and the ground steamed as the gunk splattered down on it. More and more droplets followed, seemingly raining from the wound in the sky in a torrential downpour of acidic malevolence.

The wound belched, and twisted, and groaned – and stretched.

And with a sickening squelch an enormous blob of horrid blackness was sent plummeting to the ground beneath, the trench that had been ripped into the fabric of space beforehand closing with a sickening pop, leaving only the plummeting blob of acidic muck as a testament of its presence. The disgusting clump of horrid gunk slammed down on the clearing with a sickening splatter, and every trace of life caught in the torrent of its impact, from the smallest fern to the largest fallen trunk, turned to nothingness before its heinous onslaught. The blackness splattered onto the walls of Grimm that surrounded it, and the beasts howled and roared in torment as the mud eroded them all the way down to their very bones. The clump expanded, then, violently; crashing waves of darkened mud rose and slammed against the legions of monsters that surrounded it, slaying them by the hundreds as it bubbled and boiled and rose, destroying everything it touched. The muddy substance flowed under the monsters' feet, and they sank into it, turning to ash and ichor with ear-piercing screeches and roars of agony. Taijitu's writhed and coiled in an attempt to shake the mud off as it ate through their scales, heedless of how much worse the great snakes' spasming was making it, and Goliaths desperately trudged from side to side as the darkness ate away at them inch by painful inch. Creeps and Beowolves were swallowed by the blackness whole, and Ursai managed but a few pitiful groans at best before the mud consumed them utterly.

It was a carnage – a slaughter, a display of dominance and destruction the creatures of Grimm had no hope of matching. The mud devoured everything in its path – from the smallest Creep to the greatest, mightiest Goliath. And in the skies above, spurred into madness by the ever-tempting darkness, the Griffons and the Nevermores uttered their own shrill cries – before folding in their wings and diving down towards the blackness. The varying impacts, akin to a hail of coiled muscle and dark plumage, sent droplets of the vile mud flying in every direction. They disappeared beneath the mud the moment they hit it, the scalding ichor melting the aviary creatures down to naught but dust and smoke.

And as it feasted on these heinous creatures, the mud grew.

It swelled and churned as an utterly inhuman voice joined the chorus of darkness. The black ichor coiled and stretched and rose, towering into the night sky, and as if complementing its sinister nature the very moon above took on a sickening red hue under the waves of alien wrongness the ichor gave off. More and more, it grew, reaching skywards like a towering crowned spire; prongs akin to clawed fingers bloomed atop the growing column of blackness as something despicable writhed within its confines, making the mock-prison swell as though in labour. Spindly limbs pushed against the walls of blackness as a dark orb bloomed above the crowned tower of sludge, and just as it finally grew to its apex…

…a single red eye opened in the muddy confines, glaring seemingly at existence itself.

That crimson orb shone red, stretched to its very limits; it was a spiteful glare, a hateful glare, one filled to the brim with naught but sinister intent and scorn and rage… so much rage and so much disdain and so much loathing. The makeshift womb of stained ichor shifted again as something within started pushing against the sides; sickening membrane folded under the pressure of powerful fingertips, straining against whatever was trying to escape as a roar seemed to echo within the sludge and make the towering spire quiver.

And then…

Then it ceased.

Almost listlessly, the hateful eye flicked closed, and the fingertips trying to tear through the muddy membrane receded. A valiant effort it might have been, but still in vain – a birth now was unlikely.

A wish had been made, after all – and it was a wish that denied the being dwelling within the membranous gunk everything.

With a final swell, the spire started to recede. The earth beneath it had grown ashen and desolate under its influence, cracked and salted in such a way nothing would ever grow there again – yet still, the soil of Remnant parted, bubbling like boiling water as it formed a makeshift grave for the colossal mass of ichor. A low, muted wail gurgled within the mud's confines as the great vessel sank deeper and deeper into the earth, before finally the barren soil of the clearing swallowed it whole, leaving only the dissolving bones of those Grimm too large to be immediately consumed in its wake.

Deeper and deeper down the mass of sludge went, that gurgled wail persisting all the while…

…and as it did so, the world of Remnant shuddered.

---

Blearily she tried to open her eyes, and blink away the darkness, only for a surge of panic to wrap its icy fingers around her heart. She felt nothing – not the errant twitches of her eyelids, not the nervous flexing of her fingers, not even a heartbeat or a swell in her lungs as she tried and failed to draw breath. Nothing… It was as though her body had been stripped away, and her consciousness left in an unerring blackness, and… and…

How…?

Eagerly she wracked her mind, pulling up memory after desperate memory as she forced the panic aside as she had so frequently done before… before all this. Had she still had a body, she was quite certain her breathing would still be coming out in ragged gasps, however, and if nothing else, the chill she felt right now would have set a physical form trembling. But none of that mattered now – what mattered was…

…How… did I get here?

What is all this?

Then, in the darkness around her, a voice penetrated the stillness, one so unlike her own, one so strange and out of place she felt a spiritual jolt as it started speaking:

"Sooooo… That happened," it said, the voice itself tinted with an almost slimy coat of devil-may-care attitude. "Gotta hand it to you, Gems; that marked the first time I've seen someone fuck something up so badly, and hey, where I'm from catastrophic fuck-ups happen every other Monday! So congrats, really, on raising the bar in my world even though you didn't really come from there in the first place." A series of lilting, slow claps echoed in the darkness, and… and…

In spirit, she frowned.

Was this voice actually sassing her?!

"Yes," said voice answered immediately. "Well technically no, I'm actually being sarcastic but hey, where I'm from social conventions are a wee bit kooky, you know? So hey, for all we know I'm actually being honest in which case: Wahey! Congratulations! On breaking barriers, both literally and theoretically. I'd conjure a medal for you but I can't exactly hang it on your consciousness, y'know? So you'll have to make do with a hearty ol' pat on the – Oh. Heh. My bad!"

She was quite sure she would be glaring at this menace if she still had eyes. Honestly, it had been such a long time since she'd had to deal with uppity little snots she had almost forgotten how much of a pain in the neck they could be…

"Why, thank you!" the voice cheered in the distance. "Love the whole inner-monologue shtick, by the way! Really brings out the seriousness in your eye- Oh. Heh. My bad! Again!"

Shaking off the scumbag's taunts – in spirit, at least – she quickly turned her attention back to the present. A black void, no feeling – actually, no body going by this snooty bastard's taunts – and no idea about how all of this happened apart from a few blurry images of-

"Wait!" the Bastard's voice called out again. "Wait, wait, wait a minute – are you for real? Do you seriously not remember how this happened?" It asked, voice hacking as the beginnings of mad laughter started tugging at its disembodied throat. "Aha! Ahaha oh man, that… Sheesh, you just put the metaphorical cherry on top of this literal Fuck-Up Cake! It's a chocolate cake, by the way. Muddy chocolate. Hmmmm-mm-Oh God no, I think I just threw up in my mouth a bit. Gagh! Anyway!" It said, clearing its throat. "You seem to be kinda in the dark here so-heh. Hehepfffft. Aha, oh my… 'In the dark', hahaa! Oh I crack myself up sometimes. Ahem! Seeing as you've got a big ol' black hole in your memory, let me fill you in. In fact! Let me tell you a story!"

I'd rather you didn't, the disembodied woman thought flatly.

"Yeah? Well tough crystals, Gem Girl, I'm the one with the voice here so I'm the one holding the leash. And the ball-gag. And maybe even the blindfold too but that's a 'special' party trick. Anyway!" It went on, pointedly ignoring the shudder that rocked the disembodied woman hanging in the darkness. "Imagine this scenario, okay? Put yourself in my shoes. So on one fine day, everything's going particularly swell. Was a beautiful day, really – a city was burning, some people died, the sky was black and smoky and hey, there was even a trashed orphanage!" It paused.

…What.

"Anyway! Everything was going absolutely fine. Some blokes got their Command Spells, they summoned their respective Servants and the Servants respectively started fucking shit up. Long story short, all but one died, and the last master – aha, the last master was this adorable little doof, really, she accidentally summoned a Servant… by trying to start a campfire! Ahaha! Aaah, anyway," the disembodied voice said mirthfully. "The last Master used a Command Spell to make the last Servant kill himself, probably because said Servant couldn't come without someone's heels digging into his back, the spineless fucking sicko! Ahem. Anyway, in summary, that fateful moment occurred where that adorable little doof stood before the Grail, with seven dead Servants kicking the ol' wishmaker into high gear, and what does this crazy gal wish for?"

The darkness seemed to shift around them and before the disembodied woman could prepare herself, she was staring at a scene of immense carnage, one slightly distorted – as though it were being reflected through a mirror. Amidst burning cities and charred corpses, a young auburn-haired girl stood before a colossal mass of writhing, coiling mud. Her eyes twinkled with excitement, her cheeks were flush, her posture rigid, and finally she opened her mouth and –

"Heroic Spirits are wonderful," she said with a hint of mindless detachment in her voice. "I love them! I love them all! I want to see them all! I wish the Grail War would go on and on – forever!"

And just like that, the disembodied girl was back in utter darkness.

Oh, she thought, terror gripping at what little of her remained and shaking her down to the very core of her spirit. Oh my God. That… That shouldn't even be possible…

A mad cackle in the distance answered her. "Right?! Normally I'd be pissed because hey, that probably would have gotten the Counter Force involved, and that ain't healthy, ya feel me? I'm not meant to be some kind of Servant Manufacturing Company either, y'know, but this? Ah, it was brilliant! Best wish I've ever seen and lemme tell ya, in my world I saw a lot of wishes. Of course, ol' Murphy just had to be a dick-shaped bag o' dicks and rain on my parade, so to speak."

The disembodied girl blinked – in a disembodied manner, of course. …What?

"Imagine my face," the zany voice spoke again, "when the membrane between timelines and continuums thinks 'Oh man, that was some bad chilli earlier' and just up and poops this rickety old bat into existence out of nowhere," it ranted. "Seriously one moment it's just me and the kook and I'm like 'Ay! Wish granted! One fuckload of Servants coming right up!' and the next moment it's just POP! And there's a rickety, humpbacked old bitch standing between us with a butt-ugly crystal spike-sword-thing in her hands while rambling about timelines." It paused. "That was you, by the way, Gems. I'm talking about you." It paused again. "Ya humpbacked old crone, seriously, get some oil for those joints cuz you were creak-"

I was barely out of my thirties! The disembodied girl snapped angrily, despite not having the physical faculties to do so. Her memory fizzed again as she entertained that thought. Thirty-three, she remembered. But how… Who?! Grudgingly, she calmed down, and started gathering her thoughts. Her memories were still foggy, but going by the info this asshat ("OI!") was giving her, that would mean… The Jewelled Sword, she thought hazily. The Second Magic…

"Ding ding ding!" the zany voice responded again. "Got it in one! You rambled something about a 'bitch' called Luvia and that old asshole Zelretch and really that was all the info I needed to tell me shit's gon' get fucked right about then. Long story short, the Adorable Kook attacked you, you killed her by throwing some kind of fireball gem down her throat and turning her into a Disney parody of Dormammu and then you blasted me with that little toy of yours. Except…"

…It obviously failed somehow, the disembodied girl supplied, somewhat glumly.

"Failed? Oh, no, Gems, it didn't just fail, it failed spectacularly!" the voice taunted her. "We're somewhere else right about now, lassie, and I don't mean to stoke any fires here but somehow I don't think this place is an 'alternate timeline' of either of our worlds."

Wha…? The girl stopped dead – aptly speaking – and tried her damndest to pin a glare on the area the disembodied voice was floating from. What do you mean?!

"I mean look around, Gems," the crazed voice spoke, and the darkness around her faded as the shadows started rippling. Image after image after image flooded by her, and every single sight served only to make the girl's heart drop a bit further. "For one, the moon's completely fucked," the voice said as the vast whirlpool of visions halted on the shattered moon. "Seriously, look at that. I dunno about how things were in your timeline, Gems, but where we come from? Something like that isn't exactly easy to pull off," it huffed. "Then we got these things!" It said, and the darkness rippled again, forming more imagery for the girl's mind's eye to behold. Beasts, she noticed – quite the vile kind as well, given how they seemed to be forged from the darkness itself, all murky and black and clad in stark bone. "Apparently the folks up in this place like to call these things 'Grimm'. Don't ask me how I know, jeez, at least buy me dinner first. Ahem. Now I dunno much – again, likely cuz this ain't one of our timelines – but apparently these little beasties have a serious kill-boner for humans here. But the most intriguing part? Take a look at this, Gems; you ain't gonna believe this."

Before the disembodied woman could even think to argue or inquire as to what was going to happen, the darkness around her rippled again – this time whirling as though caught by gale-force winds. Her vision jumped from one place to the next, one civilized bastion to another; she beheld a vast desert state unlike anything she'd seen back in her world, and a technological bastion of hovering airships and high-rising towers that could make even the most prolific of science-fiction author quiver. She witnessed a grandiose, opulent city nestled on a wondrously vast archipelago, and with another flicker she saw a great city, seeming more normal than the other three cities… only it was surrounded on all sides by absolutely verdant forestry, with canopies ranging from deep green to dark, bloody red.

It was nothing like the world she knew. She was barely even a hint of similarity in the layout of the lands – she was gazing at a completely different world here.

"Grand, innit?" The voice hollered again as the sights faded away. "That's about as much as I can do, though. I ain't no First Prophet or the like so I don't magically just blink and poof! I know shit. It's a learning process, it is – and the fact I need to learn now tells me that aye, this right here? This ain't the world we know."

The girl paused for a moment. Then… Then how do we get back?

"I'unno," came the simple answer – and a pregnant pause; as though a single one-word answer was apparently enough.

The girl thought it was likely that, had she still had a body, her eye would be twitching. Then how do we get back?!

"I'unno."

Again. Again with that useless answer in that infuriating couldn't-care-less tone, it was as though this jackass couldn't be less bothered by the fact that some kind of backfire left them stranded in an unknown world with unknown laws of reality and existence. With an inward huff the girl settled down again – as much as she could in this murky nothingness – and wracked her brain again. If only she could remember… She couldn't even recall her own name now!

"Okay yeah, I'll admit that much is a problem. Think you can try recalling anything else? I mean I know you were obviously involved with Zelretch somehow," the Jackass spoke, "and would you please stop calling me that? Ahem. Maybe if you started playing around with what you've got? I mean ain't that how babies are born? Play around, play around, then poof! Eighteen years of regret and a shiny new thing to brag about. My bet is if you mill around in what little you've got, all the memories should just come flying back to you like humiliating reminders after a night of binge drinking." A pause. "You did mention someone named Luvia when you were first pooped into my world. That name ring a bell?"

Luvia, the girl rolled the name around in her mind. It sounded familiar – the name alone brought shocks of blue and white and blonde flickering through her memories, and for some reason the girl couldn't help but think this Luvia person was important somehow. They'd obviously met before, if the flickers of red and white and blonde and the barest hint of brown eyes were flickering that much more fiercely. Then a ruckus blossomed in the darkness around them, shrill enough to make the girl feel the barest sensation of a wince as bygone words returned to her.

'Of course I'm worried, you stupid girl! I won't even shy away from admitting it – we're all worried about you!... Ever since… Ever since he died you've been on a slow decline, and for God's sakes it's just been getting worse! Your efficiency is waning, your success rate is dropping, and the more we try to figure out what's going on, the more you push us away!... Dammit… I… I can't begin to understand how you must feel, and I can't begin to imagine how hard it is, but please, just stop with the isolation! We… We're your friends, and we're here for you. We can help you. We want to help you… But we can only do that if you let us, Rin!'

She shuddered as that final word caused a painful twist within her, and she was quite certain she'd be trying to fold in on herself if she still had a physical form. The assault on her mind's eye was becoming downright unbearable as untold amounts of imagery flickered through her memories. She recalled so many different things at that moment – sights from when she looked into mirrors. She recalled her own dark, wavy hair and blue eyes, and how it all changed over the years. She recalled twintails, a ponytail, and at one stage she saw her hair cascade down her back, unbound. She recalled… school? Yes, there was a uniform involved, all white and brown and dark and… and…

It ended there. The sudden onslaught faded away, leaving more questions than answers – but at the very least, the disembodied woman – Rin, she reminded herself – had a bit more to work with now. She couldn't remember much… but she had rediscovered enough to appease her – for now, at least.

"Ahoy! Wild ride wasn't it?" the voice hollered from within the surrounding darkness. "Oh look at that! I'm not 'the Jackass' anymore! Oh happy days, happy days…"

You… You saw all that? Rin inquired, still reeling somewhat from everything she'd seen.

"Ayup. Every little detail. You were… Heh. I'll be honest with you here Rinny – can I call you Rinny? Fuck it I'm calling you Rinny," the voice decided, without a single care for any objection on Rin's part. "You, my new disembodied spiritual little friend, looked like one o' those kids I'd trip just for fucks and chuckles. Chuffles? Fuckles? Fuckles!"

…Charming, Rin responded glibly. …So what now? What do we do to get out of here?

"Let me be completely honest," the voice responded, sounding for the first time as though it were being completely earnest. "…I haven't a bloody clue," it summarised aptly, and at that moment Rin desperately wished she still had her body, just so she could grind her palm into her face. "Way I see it, you should just keep milling about in your memories like a bitter old ha-ahahaha not that I'm calling you a hag, oh no, I would never," the voice spoke, blatantly ignoring the fact that it did call her a hag earlier. "You'll get all your memories back in time and then I have no doubt a genius like yourself can magic us back to wherever we came from."

…And what am I supposed to do until then? Rin asked morosely, settling down in the darkness that was promising to become her home for a fair while. Is there some way I can speed up the process of my memories returning?

"Not that I'm aware of, no," the voice responded, trying to sound sympathetic – "No I'm not!" – and failing spectacularly – "Yes I am!" – in the process. "See, it's like this: Think of this like one of those times you drink too much and end up falling asleep in a ditch somewhere ne-HEY! Oy, look at this!" The voice hollered suddenly, making Rin undergo a feeling similar to jolting in shock as the void around them started to shudder and twist and ripple. "Get a load of this! Someone came with us!"

W-What? This little tidbit of knowledge managed to surprise Rin. Did she dare hope that the third party was someone who could find… wherever this little prison was and set her free? What do you mean 'someone came with us'?

"I mean," the voice retorted, feigning exasperation, "that a third person got swallowed up by that temporal sphincter of yours and spat out here! Look!" The darkness finally parted slightly, allowing another foggy scene to play out on a mirror-like surface. It was… a forest, seemingly, one with a plumage as red as blood as bark as dark as the shadows themselves. "Huh. That's a fair distance from here… I guess?" Rin was on the verge of shushing the voice when the first trace of life appeared in the scene they were observing.

With a loud, pained grunt the figure pushed off a tree and forged forwards. His breathing was ragged and his movements were almost pitifully laboured, but nonetheless, there was a sort of determination behind every footfall, and a motivating mutter was masked by every shaky exhale. A once stark white robe of finest fabric trailed and billowed behind the man, splaying out in the midnight breeze and giving Rin a bird's eye view of the various singes and burn marks that now decorated the garb. Silvery hair that flickered with the very colours of a rainbow in the occasional beam of moonlight framed a weary, pained face, adorned with narrow eyes and a mouth pulled into a pained grimace as the figure strode forwards, leaning on an ornate black staff that seemed to be woven from some kind of horn. The man… looked like something out of a fairy tale, Rin surmised – and while a normal person would disregard the wounded man as a lunatic, the disembodied magus knew better; that staff was obviously something with great magical properties.

"Fancy that," the voice in the darkness spoke again. "Yeowch, he isn't looking too good, though. Looks like he just skinny dipped in my mud, in which case: serves him right, the tosser!... Or not, or not, totally not, it's not like I'd call our only hope for getting out of this world a tosser, nah I'm not stup-Oh wow that's a bad wound he's got there…" True to form, Rin saw a deep red stain slowly spreading through the greyish undershirt the magus wore, peeking out from behind the arm that was pressed flush against the man's side. "Looks like he got gored. Think he'll be okay?"

Rin could only hope.

The rainbow-haired magus paused, then, reclining against a nearby tree as he tried to catch his breath. It served to make Rin feel a pang akin to worry – she was stuck in an alien place with no memories, no magic and no body; her hopes were all riding on this unknown magus shoulders. She felt a sensation akin to a twitch as she saw the magus look up into the night sky. Confusion matted his features as he beheld the shattered moon, and he hissed under his breath. It was easy to read the man's face from here; likely he just came to the same conclusion Rin did – that this was not their world, or any alternate timeline thereof. "Oy!" She heard the raspy voice call out. "That was my deduction you two-bit bumpkin!"

Rin pointedly ignored that insult, instead opting to focus on the scene playing out before her.

The eccentric magus in forest winced, then, and nearly doubled over, and slowly he withdrew the arm pressed against his side. His shoulders shook at the sight of the blot of red that dominated his sleeve, and even from there Rin could see the fabric covering the wound was still wet with blood. With a careful motion the man placed an open palm against the wound, and his face scrunched up in concentration as a miasma of greenish light suddenly blossomed beneath the fingertips pressing against his side. It flickered, though – something which confused Rin. Was the magus hurt so badly that he couldn't even focus on sustaining a single spell?

The whirling mass of green light dispersed then – and while the wound was obviously not completely healed yet, Rin at least saw a modicum of relief displayed on the magus' face. With the bloodied hand he had just used to try and heal himself, he conjured something – piercing blue light whipped around in his hand as a crystalline sphere formed in his grip, translucent and smooth – and yet, the imperfections were clear as day. Its opacity fluxed, its size varied from interval to interval, and Rin had no doubt that this particular conjuration wouldn't last very long. Nonetheless, it seemed to serve its purpose – like a bullet it shot into the air, glimmering as it twitched every this way and that, before finally coming to a halt above the bloody canopy of the forest, and gaze into the distance.

From here Rin couldn't make out the details of the city in the distance – but she did see the colossal, castle-like structure situated nearby, its elegant design reaching skywards in a metaphorical boast of human achievement. What is that place? Rin found herself asking.

"Uh… Hang ten," the voice responded, falling silent for a while before answering. "Think the mundies of this world call that particular city 'Vale'. Heh. Wow. Aren't they creative? I mean yeah, they're facing extinction because of those Grimm things but come on. Vale? A city nestled in a clump of forests and mountains that look like some kinda huge-ass valley? Heh. Next we're gonna find out that desert-based city we found is gonna be named Dunes. Or Drought. Or maybe Oasis! Hah!"

Shut up already! Rin hissed, trying to focus on the image before her. The magus nodded as the sphere above locked its arcane gaze on the city in the distance, and with a snap of his fingers the conjured vessel dispersed in a puff of silvery mist. Again, the magus placed a hand against his side, and took a few deep breaths, as though mentally preparing himself for something. Then he closed his eyes, and an expression of utmost serenity crossed his features…

…and with a bright flash of light, the man disappeared – and a silver-feathered falcon took to the skies in his absence.

The darkness returned, once more leaving Rin with more questions than answers. In fact, the only answers the accomplished magus had gleamed from that little spectacle was that a third party had come with them to this world, and that said party was now in his way to… Vale? She could hope that the magus made contact, hopefully tell anyone in control that an object of great danger had made its way here and needed to be destroyed, and-

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, stop the train right there, sister!" The voice interrupted her. "Destroyed? Me? The hell did I ever do to you?" It asked, mock-offense dripping from every syllable. "I mean yeah I'm not the nicest bloke around but hellooooo, you pretty much stopped whatever the ol' wishmaker created in its tracks when you dropped the ball. Actually you didn't so much 'drop' it, rather you threw it in the complete opposite direction but whatever. Listen, Gems," it said, suddenly serious. "I don't wanna get destroyed, it sounds boring, and I hate being bored." Rin could only marvel at how honest the voice sounded when it said that. As though the 'boring' part was the only part of getting destroyed that offended it. "Now, how about this? There's no danger, see. A wish was granted, yeah, but it wasn't granted here so I think this world should be marginally safe. After all, the wish has no connection to this place. So what say you we just kick back, relax, learn a bit about each other, maybe get to second base, I dunno?"

For some reason Rin couldn't place, the audacity of that last bit stung more than she felt was fair. It caused… a certain oppressive weight within what remained of her being. As though… As though the words had tugged an old wound wide open. She could only be thankful, for once, that she didn't have a body to properly display this pain.

"Ah. I see. A'ight, I overstepped. Sorry. Not really, but… Yeah, really. Let's try being really sorry for once. I'm sorry I made you feel… whatever you're feeling." The voice paused then. "Seriously, though, we need to find some kind of plan of action to pass the time until that magus finds us, because hey, he obviously had some traces of Grail Taint on him so I bet he knows."

I… You're probably right, Rin grudgingly agreed, shunning the sudden ache she felt within her being, locking it away amidst the darkness that surrounded her. She could deal with that baggage at a later time – when she actually remembered what it was. What do you suggest?

"I'm glad you asked!" The voice responded, suddenly all chipper. "Normally I'd suggest charades but we've both come down with some pretty gnarly cases of disembodiment so that's out of the loop. How about Truth or Dare? Or no, that'd just be Truth because again: we're pretty much spirits. Sucks we can't haunt people because that would've been funny as all get out. Hmmm… How 'bout twenty thousand questions?" The voice asked, and even though she lacked a body Rin already felt a headache blooming right in the spot where her forehead would've been – made worse by the fact that she couldn't nurse it properly. "Twenty thousand questions is always a hit! I tried playing it with the Adorable Kook before you turned her into ash – shame on you, by the way – and she actually seemed quite keen because sh-Oh. Oooooh. Uh-oh."

Rin tensed. What do you mean 'uh-oh'? That doesn't sound good, Jackass.

"…Because it's not?" The voice replied, sounding so small and faint Rin swore it was whispering at her from the far edge of the abyss. "Uhm… We have a problem, Rinny. A really, really, really big problem. Do you… Uhm… Let's put it this way: How would you react if, by some colossal, cosmic twist of fate, my earlier words about this world not being affected by the Kook's wish somehow became… less true? Not that they are! Never! It's just hypothetical! You could say I'm just-"

Jackass, Rin interrupted, her disembodied voice sounding downright arctic as she spoke. What. Are. You. Talking about?

"Ehehehe… Y'know what?" The voice responded, and once again the abyss around her shifted and twisted and rippled. "I think… I think it's just better if I showed you. I'm just… Heheh, I'm just so happy you don't 'technically' have a physical form right now…"

Rin was confused. Wha…? Why would you say that?

The silence that followed as the darkness around her cleared up was almost deafening, until the Jackass spoke up again:

"…Cause I'm preeeeetty damn sure you'd have a heart attack soon if you did…"

---

Two days after the catastrophic breach in downtown Vale, night-time campus activity at Beacon Academy had hit an all-time low. Relief efforts in the city, although minor, had drawn in many able-bodied potential Huntsmen and Huntresses from the Academy to aid in getting everything fixed and lively again, and day after day, routine excursions and Grimm hunts outside of Vale's borders and in the few accessible parts of Mountain Glenn led to a great deal of energy expended on a daily basis. As such, the students of Beacon Academy often took these peaceful nights as opportunities to rest and relax, and spend a few hours without worrying about missions and rations and support teams and (in the rare cases) tally marks and competition. Often one would hear nary a peep from the student dormitories – be it through hobbies or reserved chatting or last minute studying or even power naps or early nights, the various rooms assigned to the various teams were frequently the very picture of reserved calmness.

Unfortunately, tranquillity never lasts forever – and on this particular night, one dorm room in particular chose to break the cycle of serenity.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, owwwwww!"

With a burst of speed and energy wholly unbefitting of her currently exhausted state, little Ruby Rose catapulted out from under her covers and clean off her bunk, taking the tent-like canvas she had strung up around it with her as she went tumbling down towards the floor, blinking and hissing and gritting her teeth as she pressed both hands against the agonizingly painful spot on her chest that seemed to burn worse than volatile fire dust. It was the worst kind of pain, too, she though – the kind that wasn't nearly enough to bring her to her knees, no way, but the kind that was also just too much to ignore; constantly there, like a bad case of cramps after eating too many sweet things.

Around her, she could hear her teammates uttering similar cries of distress, all varying in tone and tempo. From Weiss' shrill yet short lived squeak of pain to Blake's low, almost rumbling groan to even Yang's boisterous "Yeeeooow what the hell?", it seemed all of Team RWBY was suffering… whatever decided to ruin Ruby's night all of a sudden. Distantly she could hear Nora going off like a klaxon in the room opposite theirs as well, but given the current situation she didn't worry too much about that.

Instead, Ruby gingerly withdrew her hands from her chest as the stinging sensation subsided slightly. She winced when she looked down at them saw several small specks of blood lining the digits of her fingers, but they seemed almost dried already, somehow. Was it a blister, she thought? It should have been impossible, her aura should have taken care of it long ago. With a soft, confused snort she looked down at the spot that had been stinging so badly – only for her jaw to drop in shock and wonder. W-W-What?!

There, situated nicely on the 'V' of her collarbone peeking out above the rim of her tank top, was a tattoo – three circles made up the tips of the letter-shaped mark, like an arrowhead pointing downwards (she realized with no small amount of embarrassed flushing), in the same direction a few trickles of blood had started trailing. Those had been stopped by her shirt, however. The three circles were connected by two strands that looked quite a bit like thorny vines, which made Ruby blink worriedly. Is this… is this something to do with my semblance?

"You got one too?" Ruby heard Weiss voice before the Heiress herself managed to step into Ruby's view. Her eyes shone with worry as she looked at the mark adorning Ruby's collarbone, and she seemed to hiss slightly when she saw how bloody it was. "Here," she said, extending a box of tissues towards her teammate. "You look like you need this more than I do."

"Thanks, Weiss," she said, flashing the snowy-haired girl a grateful smile, before her eyes widened. "Wait, you said 'too'! Does that mean…?"

Her question stopped short when Weiss merely raised her arm and displayed the back of her hand to Ruby. She, too, had received one of these weird tattoos – it seemed to be three circles all interlocked with one another. They almost looked like those glyphs the Heiress was so fond of creating, yet… different. The way they were situated within one another almost made the array look like a weird kite shield.

"We're not the only ones, either," Weiss said sombrely as Ruby dabbed at her collarbone with the tissues. Blake cautiously joined their impromptu meeting in the middle of the dorm, and wordlessly the girl rolled up the sleeve of her yukata, and displaying the three curved, jagged tattoos arranged in such a way that it resembled a three-pointed star for all to see. Huh, Ruby thought absently, kinda looks like one of those throwing stars.

"I've checked our Team Status on my scroll," Blake said, her expression the very picture of perplexed. "There have been drops in our Aura. Marginal, maybe, but… It's still worrying. I mean normally tattoos aren't supposed to take even a bit of our Aura…"

"Yeah!" Yang agreed, finishing up the four-person gathering on the central carpet. She had a bloody tissue clenched to her palm with two fingers and a thumb, while the remaining two gingerly pressed against the three rings of inky flames looping around her bicep. "And I'm pretty sure tats aren't an instant deal anyway. Hurts as much as people say it does, though," she said with a wince.

"Any ideas on what these are?" Blake asked, gingerly tracing her tattoo and wincing as her fingers grazed sensitive flesh.

Weiss pondered for a moment, her clear eyes scanning every tattoo before they narrowed with suspicion. "I think maybe it's tied to our Semblances?"She guessed. "Look closely; Ruby tattoo has those brambly vines, and we've all seen the petals she leaves behind. Especially when some of us have to clean them," she stressed, giving Ruby a pointed look. The little reaper at least had the sense to try and look ashamed. "Mine resemble my glyphs," Weiss continued, "and Yang's is obviously… fire…?" She trailed off, before pinching the bridge of her nose. "That theory fell apart quite quickly… Blake's doesn't even look like a clone."

"I don't know what it's supposed to look like," the bookworm replied with a shrug. "I've never even used a shuriken. They're impractical in our line of work."

"This is a headache waiting to happen, I just know it," Weiss said sombrely. "And I've half a mind to suggest we all call it a night and deal with this in the morning when we can actually approach the nurse and the facul-"

A downright thunderous hammering on their door cut Weiss off and made all four of them jump in fright. The heavy blows raining on their dorm's door was akin to an assault, and only Team RWBY's recognition of Nora's excited cries of "Guysguysguysguysopenuphurryyyyyy!"

The team shared a concerned look before Blake shrugged and slunk over to the door. With a quick scan of her scroll, she swiftly stepped aside – just as their door was flung open at such speeds the resulting slam from the door impacting the dresser was enough to make all four of them jump again. Nora quite literally surged into the room, her green eyes outright twinkling as though someone had just made the unfortunate mistake of tazing her. "Guys guys guys you will never believe what just-" And then she stopped, dead, in her tracks, as though someone had just found her shut-down switch. Those green eyes immediately latched onto the tattoos – first the one on the back of Weiss' hand, then the ones on Ruby's collarbone, Yang's bicep and Blake's shoulder. She blinked once – slowly – before an absolutely astronomical smile bloomed on her features and an excited squeal poured forth from her throat. "You guys got them tooooooo!" She babbled, eagerly rushing forward while holding out her hand. "We got 'em as well! Look, look!" She said, waving her hand about.

Weiss diligently caught the flailing appendage, and Team RWBY collectively stared at the back of Nora's hand. True to her words, yet another tattoo adorned the hammer-wielder's pale skin; three arcing bolts of thunder formed a display startlingly akin to the tip of a trident. "Isn't it great?" The energetic girl raved.

They were interrupted by a knock on their door, then, and Team RWBY turned to find the rest of Team JNPR standing outside of their dorm, a sheepish look adorning their faces. Jaune was awkwardly scratching the back of his head, Pyrrha offered them a friendly wave and Ren… was looking slightly constipated. And still damp, Ruby noticed. Jaune was the first to speak up – it seemed he had yet to take a shower, considering her was still wearing his hoodie, sans armour. "H-Heh. She found you. Uh… Guys, we're so sorry, I mean, we tried to calm her down when all this happened but Ren was still finishing up in the shower when all this happened and I… guess…" Blue eyes widened slightly when they beheld Team RWBY's tattoos. "N-No way! You got them too?"

Excitedly, the remaining members of Team JNPR filed into RWBY's dorm. Jaune was the first to act, rolling up his hoodie's sleeve to reveal his own tattoo. A sword made up one of the three segments, Ruby noted with an excited gleam in her eyes. The pommel was encircled by a halo and the tip was offset by a V-shaped arc of flames. "No faaaiiiir!" Ruby found herself whining. "You get a flaming sword and I get thorns," she huffed, absentmindedly grabbing the sheet she'd pulled off and twirling it around her like a makeshift cape.

"Aesthetically pleasing as they are, I still don't quite know what's going on," Pyrrha spoke up with a smile, stepping forward. Her sleepwear – which was basically a dark tank top and red shorts – displayed the tattoo embroidering her shoulder, an odd runic array making up the central segment while two dagger-like tips poked out behind it, one pointing upwards and one pointing downwards. "We were hoping you guys could tell us something about it," she said with a falling expression.

"Especially since Weiss is familiar with arrays like these, given her use of glyphs," Ren said levelly. He didn't even need to roll up a sleeve to display his tattoo – it was etched into the back of his forearm and was quite honestly the weirdest of the lot; three coiling, arching segments that looked like winding rivers stretched towards a central point – almost like three snakes going after the same invisible prey.

Weiss actually seemed to ponder Ren's question. "I don't know…" She mused. "I mean, the hereditary nature of my family's Semblance could at least offer us a few clues. I'm sure we've got some research about symbols, runes and glyphs in the family archives, but…" She looked pensive. "I'd… rather not… Wait! I can contact Winter!" She said suddenly. "Winter read up on glyphs, runes and other symbols before she left to join the military!"

"Hell yeah, that sounds like a source," Yang said with a grin. "And if we're talking external sources here… Thing we could contact dad in the morning?" She asked, turning to Ruby. The little Reaper nodded energetically.

"Yeah! And if we're lucky he could even get us through to Uncle Qrow as well!" She responded.

"Given the nature of symbols and runes," Ren spoke up, "I'm sure the campus library has a ton of tomes and notes on symbolism and their applications as well. I'll head to the library first thing in the morning," he said.

"I'll join you," Blake added. "I… I had an external source, who… He could've helped us, but…" She blinked, almost wearily. "He closed down his store," she said finally. None of Team RWBY bought that explanation – they knew there was likely a deeper story behind that little half-truth – but they didn't bother pushing her. Not in front of others. "I also know the layout," Blake added, just a bit awkwardly. "I know where we'll find the most research."

"It's settled, then," Weiss spoke up finally, prompting everyone in the room to share some variation of an excited smile. "We'll get started on all of this in the morning. However I think our first order of business should be to approach the faculty about this," she said. "Maybe Oobleck. He's clued up on history, so he should be our primary source."

"Professor Goodwitch is also a candidate," Pyrrha added. "She's quite skilled at Aura use and manipulation, and she does know how to help us better our Semblances. Her understanding could also help us figure out what's going on."

"And if all that doesn't help we can go to Ozpin directly!" Ruby added excitedly. "He's super smart, I bet he'll know something!"

That seemed to be a final verdict – the way the decided course of action turned everyone's confusion and wariness into excitement and eagerness seemed to stand testament to that. All around, fingers still gently grazed the inky skin where the tattoos were etched into their bodies – but for the moment, smiles replaced frowned and laughter replaced frantic questioning. The moment was crowned when the four girls of Team RWBY met one another's eyes – two smirked excitedly, one offered a small smile and one, despite looking pensive and rolling her eyes, already surrendered herself to the coming action.

And so, in unison, four fists rose into the air, and an ecstatic holler of "Banzai!" lead to a fit of raucous laughter.

---

Despite not even having a body, Rin felt the chill of worry, terror, incomprehension, outrage, frustration and confusion seep into the very spot where she was certain her stomach would have been, and she was quite thankful nobody could hear her breathing in this dark place because she was quite certain said breathing would've been escaping her in ragged heaves. E-Eight?! She cried, thoroughly incensed, thoroughly enraged, and thoroughly horrified. And they… They're friends! L-Look at how close they are! And there's eight?! She cried.

"Ohohoho noooo, Gems. Not eight, not by a long shot."

For a moment, Rin could do nothing but utter a muted whine, sounding quite similar to a gurgled, drawn out whaaaaaaaaat.

"Hold on to your skirt, Rinny!" The Jackass laughed, a broken, hysterical kind of laugh. "This ride's about to get even wilder and for fuck's sake stop with the 'Jackass' thing already!"

---

"Okay, this just got way too weird."

Velvet Scarlatina really wanted to say something along the lines of agreeing with her weary team leader, really she did. This new occurrence was frankly a worrying one – it wasn't every day that special markings just… randomly appeared on four students out of the blue while taking a sliver of their aura in the process. She wanted to muse aloud, make inquiries, maybe even hazard a few guesses as to what on earth was going on. Sadly, Team CFVY had just gotten back from two-day relief effort stint near the outskirts of Mountain Glenn. They'd been busy most of the day, and though they didn't look it from afar (apart from Coco, that was) Velvet could tell they were quite tired by that point.

…Which was probably the reason why nobody was making a fuss about the dark, oddly-pattered tattoos that had suddenly appeared on their skin.

Velvet watched curiously, gauging her teammates' reactions to the weird marks adorning them. Fox sat idly against the headboard of his bed, his fingers lazily tracing the odd swirl of sickle-shaped segments on the back of his hand. His eyes were closed – a sign that the close-combat specialist was in deep thought. Yatsuhashi was also sitting on his bed at the far end of the room, next to hers. He was sitting cross legged, trying to meditate as his back rested against the wall, but Velvet could see the tension in his frame. His tattoo looked outright weird; three segments as well – something that looked like a weird, tribal effigy of a bird split into three parts. Velvet's own was admittedly quite nice, she thought, tugging the collar of her nightshirt aside to look at the ink smudging the very tip of her collarbone; three rings of petals – a central clump, a small 'middle' ring and a large, blossoming outer ring.

Coco, on the other hand…

Coco looked completely done with it all as she stared at the weird array etched into her bicep. It was a simplistic array, composed of a 'central' gem flanked by two weird, fluttering lines. "You know what? No," the fashionista said, blinking wearily and shaking her head. "No. I dunno what this is and I dunno why this is happening but I am not in the right place to deal with this," she huffed irately, slipping in under her covers and wincing slightly as the fabric grazed her inked arm. "There is not enough coffee in all of Vale to make me deal with this now," she mumbled, reaching out and flicking off the light perched on her bedside table. "All in favour of approaching Goodwitch with this in the morning?"

"Yes," Fox replied absently.

"That would be wise," Yatsuhashi murmured his consent.

"I suppose it can wait," Velvet agreed with her team, smiling as she climbed into bed herself. She daintily flicked off her own bedside lamp, shrouding the room in darkness. A part of her was still really concerned with the current developments – but as the warm, comforting confines of her bed started swallowing her, she also realized just how tired the past few days had left her. It was worrying, yes – but at the moment, her fatigue was winning out.

Yeah… I suppose it can… wait… she thought drowsily, as blissful darkness swallowed her up whole.

---

"What do you think it means?"

Emerald Sustrai found herself speaking up before she could stop. The current course of events really creeped her out, and going by the confused, irked expression currently adorning Cinder's face, that worry was only compounded that much more. As it stood, the fiery woman was pacing around their dorm, her burning eyes flickering to the crest so unlike the one on that weird Grimm-glove situated right on the back of her forearm. It was dark, hideous, out of place, and the way Cinder glared at the tattoo that resembled a weird, shield-shaped coat of arms clued Emerald in that this was not a part of their plan – at all.

"I've sent word," Cinder spoke frigidly, "to our… employer, along with photographic evidence. If this is to introduce a change in plans, we will know soon."

Emerald only nodded in response, cautiously glancing down at her own tattoo, and those of her 'teammates'. From Cinder's coat-of-arms to Mercury's three clawmark-shaped segments, to Neo's seemingly butchered, otherworldly musical notes to her own macabre display of what looked like a segmented heart, this occurrence caught them all with their pants down. The marks looked weird, yet intricate – almost professional, in a way. Which was odd, considering how suddenly – and how painfully – the marks had appeared. "So what do we do now?"

"Now, we make do with what we have," Cinder said summarily, sitting down on her bed and opening her scroll. "Tomorrow you and Mercury will do some investigating – find out if any other students or any of the faculty members received similar markings. Acquire pictures if possible, and see if you can find out the circumstances behind every occurrence you find… and do not let your own etchings be seen, by anyone."

The order was alerting, if nothing else. Even Mercury, laid back as he was, managed to pull his eyes off his comic book long enough to shoot Cinder a questioning glance, and for once Neo didn't seem all that smug either – the fact that both her eyes were now a curious brown testified to that. "Could these marks really be so dangerous?" Emerald chanced asking.

Cinder did not even look up from her scroll. She merely raised her arm, flashing the tattoo etched there.

"Whether or not the marks mean anything is irrelevant now," she said with a clipped tone. "What unnerves is that we know nothing about these things – and in our line of work, not knowing is dangerous."

---

In various other places of Beacon Academy, more sudden influxes of stinging pain interrupted hobbies and free time and in some cases even pulled people from their naps. Team CRDL was awoken by the ruckus of their leader flying into the dorm bathroom, and despite how strained their relations with one another had become, their worries were only compounded when they saw the spatterings of blood lining the burly leader's once immaculate sheets.

In the Staff Cafeteria, a boisterous tale of the progress of the school's warriors and an intellectual contribution to the current state of the students both fell silent as the dull ache set in. Professors Port and Oobleck stopped dead in their tracks, their voicing dying in their throats as the suspicion that something very wrong was happening. In unison they set their mugs down as the backs of their hands shone with a magical glow, and grey eyebrows rose with wonder and amusement as green ones sank into a frown when the respective tattoos finally set in.

"Well," Port said primly, staring at the crest etched into his hand. "This is certainly new."

Oobleck, for once, had nothing to say. He merely swallowed down the foreboding feeling that was now blossoming in his chest.

Elsewhere in Beacon, Glynda Goodwitch sagged down on her bed with a weary sigh. The muted ache in her muscles replayed to her just how active she'd been that day, and she would be lying if she said she wasn't feeling at least a bit tired – more so than usual, given the requirements of her job. Nonetheless, it was looking to be a rare early night for the Professor. Even now steam trailed from the small bathroom attached to her personal quarters, and wearily Glynda reached up, sliding her hand under the collar of her bathrobe to press at the ache that was threatening to bloom in her neck.

At least, she did so until the stinging pain erupted in her shoulder. With a violent hiss, Glynda's hand moved to press against the spot that was burning intently – only for her fingers to graze something wet… and unusually warm.

The veteran Huntress was on her feet in a blink, and the white robe was all but discarded as she barrelled into her bathroom again, frantically ripping a towel from its coaster and wiping away at the fog obscuring the mirror. Her eyes narrowed as they saw what had caused the stinging pain; a mark akin to a tattoo had been carved onto her skin – what looked like a twisted parody of a three-pronged maple leaf, split into two segments, with a stem in the shape of a sword acting as the third.

She frowned as she regarded the odd mark, idly wiping away the trickles of blood with the damp towel in her hands. It stung, yes – the flesh was quite sensitive – but it was nothing she couldn't power through. Even the jolts of pain meant little to her. What bothered her was the suddenness of it all; she had long since unlocked and mastered her own Semblance, so she disregarded this mark being some kind of manifestation thereof right off the bat. Which only possibly left her Aura as the culprit…

With a soft huff, she strode from her bathroom, picking up the discarded robe and redressing herself as she went. She kept her shoulder as exposed as possible, however, and once she reached her bed she diligently retrieved her scroll and quickly snapped an image of the mark adorning the very tip of her collarbone. She would need to speak to her colleagues about this – and soon.

She only barely fought herself from grumbling as she quickly flicked her bedside light on and strode over to the fully-lined bookcases at the far end of her quarters. Her eyes had locked onto the spines of all the Aura reference books and tomes stashed there.

Only distantly in the back of her mind did the veteran Huntress mourn the escape of yet another prospective good night's sleep.

---

S-Sixteen…

Rin would've cursed at how shaky her voice sounded as it echoed in the nothingness surrounding her. Sixteen sets of Command Spells. Sixteen Servants – in an unknown, vastly different world that likely had no countermeasures, no mediators, and no idea what's coming. How did it even come to this?!

"That would technically be your fault, Rinny."

W-What? What are you-

"You zapped the Grail with that toothpick o' yours remember? Second magic? Colossal fuck up? Any of this ringing a bell?"

But that doesn't explain-

"Ohohoho! Wait! But wait! There's more!" The Jackass suddenly cried out as the darkness distorted again, and it was only through a phenomenal display of willpower that Rin didn't outright scream with frustration.

---

Nighttime airbuses were usually the deserted kind. Very few people in Remnant were so hard-pressed for time that they had to compromise and take a transport that usually did its route through the night. Such transport usually filled their emptiness with an alien sense of abandonment – the speakers rarely blared, the seats were mostly unoccupied, the screens that usually relayed entertainment shows for the masses were now covered only in bare schedules and route charts and the only sound to be heard at any given spot in the colossal airbus was the sound of its engines humming mutedly – a sound that was very rarely heard during the day.

Safely nestled in the confines of a seat hidden in a shadow corner, Qrow Branwen stirred almost fitfully in his sleep. His expression was somewhat soured, as though caught in a bad dream, and his appearance was ragged; his clothing was creased, his hair was dirty and on end, and the stubble lining his face has surpassed 'rugged' and become 'downright dirty' ages ago. An empty flask was clutched in his hand, and the pungent odour of pure alcohol wafted from its rim. Not that a drunken sleep mattered much to a seasoned Huntsman – even asleep he was more aware than most initiates in the academy, enough so that he lazily creaked a bloodshot eye open as he felt the stinging sensation erupt on his forearm. It was dull, muted by the alcohol in his system, but still noticeable. Both his eyes opened as he scanned the empty airbus, straining all of his senses in order to track a possible assailant. But he found none – and if he couldn't find someone, it was likely they were never there in the first place.

With a final bored look at the small red stain blooming on the rolled-up collar of his shirt, Qrow settled back down and returned to his slumber…

…and missed the tattoo of a segmented skull appearing on his arm completely.

Elsewhere in Vale, in the secretive vault nestled beneath the prestigious Beacon Academy, Professor Ozpin, the widely-respected Headmaster, loosed a weary sigh as his fingers tapped away at the console before him. Most of the large chamber was shrouded in darkness, leaving only a beam of light shining down on the contraption he was monitoring now. Wearily, he turned to look at one of the two pods connected to the console, his brow creasing just a hint as his thoughts wandered to the comatose girl resting within – the latest Fall Maiden.

The attack on Amber had been a tragedy, one that had placed the entire cabal he had formed on high alert. It was a never-before seen scenario; lasting aura damage, burn marks that wouldn't heal and a comatose state that simply could not be explained medically or biologically – it was though someone had inflicted a wound on the Maiden's very soul, leaving her life hanging perilously on a knife's edge. Every few nights he would return here to check the feedback on the console – and every night he would leave with greater, bitterer disappointment than the last.

In light of this vast amount of worry, Ozpin felt the surge of panic that flowed through him when Amber's vitals spiked was just a bit justified.

The console bleared to life as various scans ran their course – Amber's heart rate, her blood pressure, her breathing, everything shot sky-high as the various programs and windows on the console went crazy – and much to Ozpin's overwhelming shock, he heard a low groan of pain emanate from within the pod. Quickly he initiated the built in procedures to try and stabilize the girl, and as they ran their course he rushed over to the side of the pod. A sudden burning sensation erupted along his right arm, and he could feel the blood seeping into his shirt's sleeve – there was even a trickle running down the back of his hand and between his fingers – but currently the headmaster could not afford to care about that. With quivering breaths he stopped at the pod, and gazed through the glass opening – and his eyes widened at what he saw.

Amber's eyes were fluttering, as though she was struggling to awaken – and along each curve of her collarbone, two glowing lights were shining; one large and bright, one small and dim.

Ozpin beheld the spectacle, heedless of the blood dripping from under his sleeve, speechless as he watched the lights dance across the pod's glass, shimmering almost hypnotically, and all the while Amber writhed and squirmed where she lay, those fluttering eyelids trying so hard to pry themselves open – but failing to do so at all.

Finally the light died down – and to Ozpin's immense disappointment, so did Amber's struggling. It seemed a terrible thing to think, in all honestly, but he had been hoping for a miracle since Amber was admitted into this contraption, and just when it seemed on the brink of happening… it slipped away. Ozpin merely shook his head. He supposed it was too much to hope for, after all. Instead he decided to study the new markings engraved on Amber's chest. They both formed archaic, almost ancient displays; one was large, easily stretching from the middle of her clavicle to the edges of her shoulder. It was… a wild-looking thing, all thorns and swirls and arches neatly split into three segments. The other one was smaller, more orderly, easier to identify; the first segment was a crown like structure. In between its two raised prongs sat a star – and topping said star was a figure that seemed like a traditional display of a teardrop.

Ozpin frowned as he tried to recall if he'd seen any of the markings before, both from experience and from texts and records. Certainly, some Maidens of the past sported tattoos of their own – but those were always naturally made, they didn't just… appear out of nowhere, and much to Ozpin's frustration, just trying to 'remember' brought nothing to the fore. He'd have to delve into the records of the past maidens again, he thought – he'd need to pull up as much information and imagery of them as possible to see whether this was something related to them.

But first…

With a weary sigh, he walked back to the console. Already the various reports were printing and already he could make out the words that had, by now, become almost tediously repetitive – large-printed phrases like [CONDITION STABLE] and [RATES NOMINAL] adorned it. Almost instinctively he grabbed the printed pages and placed them next to the keyboard before shrugging his coat off. His eyes narrowed when he saw the splotches of red lining his sleeve and he quickly rolled it up, intent on gauging the extent of the sudden wound – only to pause, his eyes widening in shock for the first time in a long while.

For there, lining his forearm, were three sets of the same tattoos that now adorned Amber's chest.

Three sets of three segments each.

Three were spindly, looking almost ancient and digital at the same time as they wove around his wrist like three bracelets. In the middle of his forearm sat an encircled crest of three perfectly intersected spheres, forming something akin to a clover, and finally, near his elbow, sat a jagged mess of lines more resembling fighting serpents than anything else. And amidst all of these engravings, speckles of blood littered his arm.

Ozpin's eyes narrowed as he gazed back towards Amber's pod. Suddenly those markings took on a whole new meaning – and the Headmaster somehow found himself thinking that perhaps, the answers he was suddenly seeking wouldn't be found in the records of previous Maidens at all. Sombrely he turned back and glared at the tattoos now adorning his harm.

This… just took a turn for the sinister…

---

Miles away, in the kingdom of Atlas, Winter Schnee was personally conducting an examination of her assigned transport. It was less a sense of perfectionism and more a sense of protocol, of discipline; she was responsible for the vessel and its crew, and thus it should fall to her to be absolutely certain that it was in perfect flying order, and that it was primed in such a way that as few problems as possible would crop up during the flight.

She'd already inspected the cargo hold, the quarters, the armaments, the battle stations and the cantina – she even briefly studied what the engineers and the mechanics were doing to the crafts more technical areas, and now she found herself in the last place left to inspect: the cockpit. Already she'd brought up the varying diagnostics and reports and she'd just finished going over the various status screens after ordering a routine startup.

She was in the process of checking the restraints when she paused, hissing slightly as a sharp pain flared to life on the back of her hand. With a grunt she paused, elegantly biting down on the finger of her glove and pulling it off with a dainty tug, only to pause in wonder as she saw the cause of her pain:

A tattoo – and an absolutely hideous one at that; it seemed like some kind of dagger or short sword – possibly a gladius? - surrounded by three pairs of angelic-looking wings. The suddenness of its appearance, and the almost muddy hue of its colouring, however, only made those wings seem more abnormal.

For a moment, Winter could only pause and stare.

"…what on earth…?"

And on the other side of the kingdom, glaring at the scene before him with arctic disdain, Jacques Schnee watched as his wife lamely tried to wave Klein away from her surprise new injury. At first Jacques had thought the miserable woman had actually fallen far enough to injure herself for some forsaken reason, but a quick glance at the murky tattoo now embroidered across the pale skin of her forearm quickly ruled out that possibility.

From afar he studied the mark, frowning as he pieced the three-piece symbol together; A flower-looking thing with many petals and many stems, woven into what looked suspiciously like a childish drawing of a heart of all things. All of this topped by a gaudy, flowery, crown-looking scribble, stretching from the woman's wrist all the way up to her elbow.

He bristled as he watched Klein try to tend to the bleeding stemming from that damn tattoo. It had been far too long for this to be some kind of bygone after-effect of having his wife's Aura awakened. If it were it would have bloody manifested ages ago, when things had started getting dangerous for his family and he'd paid good money to see her safety assured at the time.

Now though…

He'd have to inspect himself for marks as well first – after that, however, he had research to do. Nicholas had cultivated quite an impressive library, with a great many notes about his family over the years - it was about time to give those notes another once-over. He'd have that damn woman's medical records pulled as well, just to be sure. And knowing her, another trip to the shrink wasn't at all unwarranted.

He frowned.

Of course she'd cause him more trouble. Why was he even surprised at this point?

---

For the first time since awakening in this pressing darkness, for the first time in a long, long while, she reckoned, Rin Tohsaka was rendered completely and utterly speechless. This was a nightmare, she thought – a bad dream, a sorrow-induced hallucination. The result of a potion or an elixir gone wrong, even, anything! Anything, any logical explanation and even some illogical ones were better, more bearable than accepting that the horrifying things she was seeing now were real.

That nameless, comatose girl in the pod had been given two sets of Command Spells. Two. A feat reserved only for the greatest of magi where she was from and here it was bestowed upon a girl who couldn't stay alive without crude medical equipment! And to make matters worse the exact same honour had been bestowed upon some obviously noble man with a horrid-looking moustache up in the frigid north. The old bastard didn't even look awed – instead he merely looked annoyed!

And… And…

That silver-haired man in the vault, who was monitoring the comatose wonder-girl…

Rin felt a shudder rock her to her very core this time, even if she didn't have a body. Three Command Spells, she thought sombrely. Three potential Servants…

I'm in a nightmare, she finally decided, wishing she had a physical form just so she could wrap her arms around herself, pinch herself awake – anything to make these sights stop. That has to be it. I'm in a nightmare…

"Hate to break this to you, Gems, but you're really not," the disembodied voice echoed around her again. "And look! No more Jackass! Again! D'awww you really do care. Anyway, Rinny, you really need to sit up and smell the carnage here. These things you're seeing? They're real, woman, and they're happening right fucking now. There is a shitstorm of godly proportions heading towards this world, Rinny – especially if the Grail's interpretation for an 'eternal war' leads to natural animosity between Servants."

But what if it does?! Rin asked, not even bothering to hide her panic any more. Grail Wars were messes waiting to happen, and that was with the proper supervision and secrecy. Here in this world, however, neither existed, which meant that if the Grail's granted wish of an 'eternal war' between Servants was going to come true, then –

"Incoming, Rinny," the voice sounded in the darkness around her again, and once more the darkness distorted, leaving Rin with only a frustrated, desperate cry of 'More?!' as it did so.

---

In the heart of the Grimmlands, in a stretch of land bathed in an eternal bloody hue, where the shattered moon above stood partially obscured by thick clouds of murky black, a hiss echoed in the deserted plains. It was a sharp sound, shrill and pained, one that only grew in intensity as it travelled across the tainted land, flowing in between the rising spires of tainted dust and towering crystal and parting the fog as it went. It was a barren land, a tainted land – one devoid of even the slightest touch of human influence.

It was at the highest point of these nightmarish plains that the hiss had originated from. At the 'crown' of the Grimmlands, a vaguely humanoid figure was hunched forwards, grimacing in pain as she hugged herself, trying to remain upright. The pain racking her body was near-excruciating; it was something she hadn't felt in a long, long time, and by now the unfamiliar ache was almost alien to her. Nonetheless, she persevered as the pain flared up her arms and across her chest, and she gritted her teeth as she felt what was obviously blood dribbling down her arms. As the burning agony assailed her, she was quickly and diligently analysing what was happening, and trying to piece together what could possibly cause her such immense pain so suddenly…

…but almost as abruptly as it had started, the pain vanished.

And with that action, the being known as Salem only felt greater confusion – and even greater ire.

With a heave of breath she straightened up, ignoring how the blood made her dress cling to her chest. Her hands were sticky with blood as she finally straightened her arms, and her mounting frustration and outrage only grew when she saw the swathes of black staining her hands. Balefully she rose her arms – and nearly stopped dead as she what had caused the bleeding:

Tattoos. Marking, engraved into her very skin. They seemed to snake from her wrists all the way up to her shoulders, and they were of such a dark colour, the murky veins that lined her alabaster arms seemed to be weaving into them. The etchings had a jagged pattern to them – like the edge of a saw, or a row of serrated fangs, and they split into three parts on every arm; one from her wrist to her elbow, one on the elbow proper, and one ranging from her elbow to her shoulder.

Crimson eyes narrowed dangerously. That means…

With a vicious growl, the woman's hands shot up, and black claws sprouted from her fingertips. They hooked into the fabric of her dress and tore, and kept tearing until every bit of bloodstained fabric was naught but a string on the ground around her. What remained of the dress' torso threatened to slip from her shoulders, but the woman found herself unable to care. She merely fumed, as she beheld a third engraving; this one more unique, more orderly… more unnatural. What looked to be a trail of smog crept from the tip of one clavicle down to the dip of her collarbone, splitting off before another sludge trail started anew and crept up her other clavicle before abruptly stopping at its tip. The murky 'V' was topped by a swirling mass of smoke – and the entire array was covered in flecks and trails of blood that seemed to shine in the moonlight.

Unnatural, she though.

Unforeseen.

Unknown.

And unknown, in her opinion, was unacceptable.

With a low growl, she turned on her heel and stalked off deeper into the crown of the Grimmlands. Something about these markings left an unpleasant feeling lingering within Salem's being – like a weight suddenly pressing down on her shoulders. She was concerned, she realized with a murderous expression.

And Salem never left her concerns unaddressed.

---

Even the despair had passed at this stage. Despite trying her best not to lose her spark, Rin felt absolutely, utterly defeated. She still could not remember much about her mission – only that Zelretch was somehow involved – but even that man, with all his eccentricity, would never go this far… would he? This… This clusterfuck couldn't possibly have been the grand goal of her assignment! Why would she have been sent… wherever she was sent if not to avert something like this happening? An eternal war between Servants… The very prospect thereof made her heart sink. The wish registered here, didn't it? She asked, downtrodden. No matter what we do, it's going to happen… Were those all the Masters? Or are the more?

"…There are more," the voice responded, for once not sounding smug or delighted or aloof or unsympathetic or any of those improper, unfitting emotions. "We're currently at thirty-one assigned Command Spells… and counting."

Thirty-one and counting… Rin parroted, tasting bile despite lacking an actual throat at that moment. …How did this happen… What do we do?!

"There's nothing we can do, Gems," the voice responded, and once again Rin noticed a hint of boredom and exasperation had crept into his manner. The undertone served only to make the disembodied magus more furious. "The wish was granted, and the only way to stop it – in other words, destroying me and this little container we're trapped in – got botched by a certain someone, so instead it ended up here. That's. It. Wish was made, wish was granted, wish is now being put into effect and unless you plan on making a body for yourself out of nothing and chewing your way outta here, you ain't gonna stop it, Rinny."

So what, we just sit back and do nothing?! Rin retorted hotly. How can you be so careless about all this? You had a hand in this goddammit! People could die!

"Yeah, and? What's the problem? People are assholes anyway, and I bet my muddy little placenta here that this world is no different," the Jackass responded. "Aw come on. We doing the whole 'Jackass' thing again?"

Yes! Yes we are, you heartless bastard! Rin seethed. I… I don't know where we are and I don't know how much different this place is, or how it works or what anything means now but I'm pretty damn sure a Grail War isn't these people's fight!

"Shoulda thought o' that before you botched the temporal pooper then, eh?" The Jackass responded glibly, and Rin could have sworn that at this point her heart would be hammering in her chest and her blood would have been boiling if she still had a physical vessel. "Listen, Gems-"

No! Rin thought, deliberately interrupting the Jackass so she didn't have to listen to any more of the fiend's careless prattling. There has to be something I can do. There has to… be… She trailed off, calming down as remembrance ran its course. The Magus…

"Say what now? You'll have to speak up, I can't hear you over all that angst-"

The Magus from earlier! Rin interrupted again. The one you said had traces of Grail Taint on him! He turned into that bird and flew off to… Vale, was it? I… If he really had traces of Grail Taint on him that means he was present when… when everything went wrong! She said quickly. He must at least know what the Holy Grail War is all about and if he does, the he could teach the people! He could tell them how dangerous it is, maybe organize a defence or a counter-measure of sorts with this world's authorities!

"What, you're just assuming that Magus bloke was one o' the Good Guys, Rinny?" the voice asked sceptically. "He got gored in the side by something, remember? Did it ever occur that maybe he was a bigger bastard than me and that he deserved that shanking?"

…Yes, Rin admitted lowly after a while. Yes, I… I'm possibly being foolish by so hastily believing this. I… I'm being a lot like… someone I used to know, I think, and for some reason that's making me feel really frustrated with myself. The word 'idiot' keeps ringing in my mind, over and over, and… I'm sure it's not directed at me, she spoke truthfully, spiritually squirming in discomfort as memories tried and failed to return to her. But… As it stands now… This is the last sliver of hope. If that Magus is really sinister, then…

"Then everything's about to get butt-pumped. Yeah, I know."

Rin noticed the little pause at the end of the voice's answer –as though it desperately wanted to add a tail to the reply, but refrained from doing so. Yes, she instead confirmed. I'm stuck here, with you, and this world is about to face a conflict of immense magnitude. I… I need to hope that Magus was one of the righteous ones. I need to cling to that hope. Because otherwise… if what you say to me is true… She hesitated. Then every casualty experienced in this war will be my fault.

For a moment, a pregnant pause lingered between them – one that seemed to make the darkness around her seem downright oppressive – before finally, with a tremendous groan, the voice responded again.

"For fuck's sake, I'm gonna get bored if you get all mopey again. And you were so fun too… Okay, Rinny, tell ya what: I'll keep my fingers crossed with you. Because hey, fun as destruction is, it only stays fun until everything's dead and then it's just boring. So, y'know, yeah. Maybe the whole struggle between good and evil thing could be entertaining as well. If nothing else it'll be entertaining seeing Servants getting their shit fucked after talking big game."

For a long while, Rin was stunned silent. She cleared her throat, however, and despite lacking the organ the sound of it seemed to ring across the darkness. Y-You really mean that?

"Yeah, why not," the voice responded with an audible shrug. "Let's see what batting for the winners' team is like for once, and all that sycophantic bullshit. Because like I said, Rinny: Destruction's only fun until everything's dead," it said whimsically, before speaking up for a final time.

"So let's hope that Magus of yours is a good bloke, okay? If only so it'll keep your spirits up because hey; you're fun to tease. You should probably get your skirt ready so you can hold on to it, though."

Rin blinked owlishly at that statement. 'Hold on to my skirt'? Prepare myself?

"Aye, prepare yourself, Gems," the voice responded ominously. "Because no matter what your little Magus' alignment is: There still ain't no words to describe just how fucked this world's gonna get soon."

---

Post-Chapter AN: Aaaand we're done! Quite lengthy for a prologue, aye, but it's quite short by my standards. Anyway, let's get a few things addressed real quick here.

A) I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing here. Literally - some of the deeper mechanics of the Nasuverse elude me so I'm just throwing things at the wall and hoping it all sticks. I did say this was going to be my 'fun' story, something to veer me away from how dark Strength of an Honest soul is going to get - so by all accounts I'm writing this purely for fun and joy - fun and joy I hope you all can share in.

B) What Servants are gonna appear? A *lot* of them, taken from every franchise. Stay Night, Zero, Apocrypha, Grand Order, Prototype, Strange Fake - you name it; this is in an eternal war, people, and a lot of Servants are going to appear - and possibly die horribly but hey, that's the purpose of a Grail War, innit? EDIT 18/04/2016: There may have been a slight misconception here, as a few good Samaritans informed me via PMs. When I said this story is going to be "lighter and softer" I did not mean it's going to be all sunshine and rainbows; this *is* an F/SN crossover, after all -I merely meant I was not going to pull a George R.R Martin like the franchises in question did. Volume 3 is still gonna happen, and it's gonna be quite the doozy - as will all the arcs afterwards be - but I'm not going for the whole "Grim grim, dark dark, angst angst" approach here.

I'm not that Urobutcher bloke, after all.

C) Rin Tohsaka, and "The Voice": At this point you probably realized the two canon characters from Fate are a wee bit different. Angra? Well, the origin of Angra's newfound kookyness is going to be addressed later in the series. It's a pseudo-relevant plot-point, after all. As for Rin: I also can't say much without spoiling. What I can confirm is that yes, this is an older, wiser, more mature Rin and yes, she does hail from an 'alternate' UBW timeline.

That... is probably it, yes. As always, a massive word of thanks to Unseen Lurker for being an epic sounding board and second opinion, who literally helped forge this story from a lump of raw iron.

And a massive word of thanks to you, dear readers, for pushing this far! I can only hope that I didn't disappoint with this prologue, and that you'll hopefully stay along for the ride, because really: This one's going to be massive. Bigger than any of my other stories, I can guarantee that much.

So with all of that said and done, once more, thanks for reading!

Adieu!
-Chaos