AN: Hello! So while Tale of Celia suffocates beneath the sands of Vacuo, never to be seen again for as long as Remnant exists, this is a mashup of RWBY and a 'little' idea I had a while back that blew into an actual story me and a friend began working on. Some things may not be clear at first, such as Noxia, Avalon, and the other pilots; others clearer, but I'll try not to get wordy in this note. With that said...

Disclaimer: RWBY is owned by Roosterteeth. I only own the characters that are not part of RWBY itself.

Prologue: The Blazing Skies

The skies above the frozen planet of Jaeter were ablaze with lasers, burning ships, and the sound of explosions. Ordinarily, the ice planet would not be the site of one of history's largest battles. Today, however, the situation was vastly different.

Ships flew over the ruined and wrecked city of Halia, the once-shining skyscrapers reduced to rubble, their forward-mounted lasers firing until depletion. These fighters were focused on one thing, and one thing only: The destruction of a new experimental ship, produced by Noxia, once a primary faction in the galaxy at large, until Avalon began the conquest and complete dictatorship of the galaxy.

Avalon, believe it or not, was once a peaceful nation, until a faction of rogue Noxian soldiers killed the wife and son of Avalon's emperor. And so, like many kingdoms in history before them, a war had broken out. All attempts at negotiation were shut down, messengers executed or shot on sight, and entire worlds crumbled.

The new ship, its sleek, silver-lined black profile contrasting the stark white of the landscape, expertly dodged the lasers. The perks of being flown by one of Noxia's few ace pilots were showing, as the new ship banked left before unleashing its payload.

Twin revolver cannons came to life, 40mm SAPHEI-T shells ejecting forward and shredding through the shields and hulls of a secondary fighter group, the sound deafening were they not muted by the explosions around them. As the first group closed in on the ship, their lasers skimming the shield, hatches sprang open in the back, twin pods roaring to life and unleashing twelve guided missiles.

The first six smashed into the shields, shattering them with explosive force. The remainder tore into the hulls and engines of the pursuers and exploded, the pilots unable to escape the close-range surprise. Two ships banked towards the ground, unable to do anything but wait for the crash. The other four had become little more than debris, the pilots killed in the ensuing explosions.

Inside the new challenger, the pilot fistpumped. "The counterattack missiles worked. Silas is going to be happy... he hasn't been so in a while." The pilot's voice, low and slightly cheerful, resounded within the cockpit, distorted by a voice filter. Buttons, dials, knobs, and screens surrounded the pilot, the binary suns of the system gleaming through the heavily-reinforced glass of the cockpit. Pressing a button on the center console, the comm relay whirred to life with a quick sound of radio static. "Flux-2, reporting in. Silas's new toys work wonders, but it takes two shots to down a standard Drake fighter. How are you guys holding up?"

For two seconds, there was silence. "Flux-3 responding. One and Four got downed, but I didn't see where they crashed and their locators aren't working. Six got sniped playing chicken, not sure what happened to everyone else." was the response, Flux-3's light voice clearly heard through the active comms. "Christ. I see your position, Three. Moving to engage the fighters on your tail." was Two's response, watching four small figures chase one larger ship, gold lasers bouncing off the shields. Maneuvering behind them, the twin cannons barked once more, chewing the tailing enemies into empty husks, veering down towards the frozen surface.

The comms burst into life once more. "Chasers down, Three. Any reports from One and Four?"

Three responded, her voice shaky and unsure. "Negative, Two. Snowstorm kicked up. Even if they were still active, the snowstorm's interfering with anything from the surface-shit, unknown Avalon on our tail! Go left!"

Instincts and Three screaming into their ear, Flux-2 banked left, a massive golden laser passing into the space where the two aircraft just were. Rear cameras online, Two was able to see the new attacker. A massive ship, well over half a kilometer long, entered from orbit, smashing into anything unlucky enough to remain in its path. AA turrets lined the hull, firing at the black ships of Noxia with absolute hatred. Two was shocked, death-gripping the controls, knuckles pale under their gloves. The ship gleamed white, its golden designation 'Sword of Avalon' clearly visible. "Fuck!" shouted Three, her panic audible. "They brought a capital ship here! Avalon's pulling out all the stops to ensure that Noxia's new tech doesn't survive! Two, get your ass into high orbit and warp out of here, don't let them des-" Three was unable to finish her sentence, the main gun on the SoA enveloping her aircraft in a shining, golden blast, leaving Two to escape through any means necessary.

Two was in some deep shit.

Over an hour later, Two was still stuck in the lower atmosphere. The autocannons had a grand total of 157 shots left, and the rear pods were out. Avalon, as it turns out, had created a low-orbit blockade to prevent any escape.

"Shit!" Two cursed, unable to do anything else as the left engine was destroyed by targeted shots. "And of course they had to hit the fuel tanks too...Silas won't be happy, even if I make it back." Two pulled into a Cobra, forcing the pursuers to break away or overshoot, in the case of three fighters. Leveling out, Two opened fire on the three overshot fighters, downing two and forcing the last to bail. Going into a half-roll, Two pulled into a pass aimed towards the fighters that broke away from the initial maneuver...

Click! Click!

...only to discover rather painfully that the autocannons had run out of ammo, and that they were now flying headfirst into enemies that were not out of ammo.

Two attempted to pull up to recover from the mistake, but forcing the entire weight of the ship onto the right engine, combined with all the damage sustained, was too much for the engine load, and as the engine failed, and Two was stuck in an uncontrolled freefall towards the planet's surface, one word coursed through their mind before impact with the snowy hills.

Fuck.

Metal creaked and groaned, fire and smoke died as a black-cloaked figure pushed the remains of a seat off their body, rolling out of what remains of the cockpit onto the ground. Standing up, Two realized several things.

One: The helmet's advanced optics were trashed, leaving Two relying on normal vision.

Two: The aircraft was utterly destroyed. Shit, Silas is going to have my ass for this.

Three: The standard issue emergency laser pistol was split into several pieces on impact.

Four: Their custom kinetic pistol remained perfectly fine and operable, minus a few scratches.

All in all, pretty good since I got to walk away from it, and my favorite little weapon survived, thought Two, but now there's a glaring problem. I'm stuck on an ice planet, I don't have any rations or water, nor do I have any means of escape... oh shit. Rolling to the right and running, Two barely managed to avoid a beam that split the area they were just standing in, the black flight boots sinking deep into the snow. Oh, right. THESE ASSHOLES are still here, too.

What followed next could only be described as a test of how many times one living being can curse while dodging large lasers.

Two realized, throughout all the mind-screaming and the cursing, that the beams were getting closer with each miss, and they were now landing in front, rather than behind, and began a heavily staggered sprint, breaking to go left or right constantly to throw off the fighters' aim. Three minutes later, Two was out of options, their back against a cliff leading into a ravine, and their face obscured by the snowstorm. Three fighters surrounded Two, blocking off any chance of escape through conventional methods.

Ordinarily, Two would be wondering why they aren't dead yet, except in this situation it was clear: the three pilots were arguing. Arguing about what, Two didn't know, but it did give them an out. Mock saluting the pilots, Two laughed as they all stopped to look at what they were doing, only to find their target falling backwards off the cliff edge, into the ravine of unknown depth.

Maybe I should've thought this one through some more. Two thought, as they plummeted into a dark ravine with all the reckless abandon of a bull. Looking back up, Two saw the three fighter jets attempting to pursue, only to find themselves unable to pursue further as the ravine narrowed and widened several times. Good way to go, I guess? I got the last laugh, and Avalon won't even know if I died or not. They'll be in a state of paranoia because I'm one of the few Noxians that can actually fucking do something to stop them.

Fate, as it happens, had other plans for the pilot, as the ravine widened out one last time. Pulled out of their thoughts, Two looked down as the ravine's walls lit up slightly...

"Flow Six, this is Sword of Avalon, do you read me? What is the status of the unknown?"

"Loud and clear, Sword. They got away. Fell into a ravine that narrowed down, got too small for our ships to fit."

"Copy that, Flow Six. Return to the Sword for debriefing. Talon won't be happy they escaped."

... and crashed into dark water, air leaving Two's body on impact and activating the helmet's built-in rebreather. Orienting to what they think is up, Two began to swim, a strange feeling washing over them as the water got clearer, light shining in from the surface.

To an outside observer, the world had flipped and the waters had changed.

Smiling for the first time in well over three hours, Two breached the surface...

Wait a second, this isn't the ravine-

... finding themselves in a lake, hidden deep in a red forest. Smile turned to frown as Two looked around, attempting to find something recognizable to them, a fleeting hope in their heart that it was a planet they were familiar with. A barely-visible distant fortress, perched on a cliff, unfamiliar to the pilot.

Groaning, Two realized that they had ended up somewhere they'd never seen, they began to swim towards the distant shoreline. Four minutes later, Two stood up on solid sand, breathing heavily and disabling the air tanks.

After recovering for a few moments, Two reached for a holster on their left side, the synthetic black leather glistening in the sunset, a rivulet of water dripping off... A flap on the top undone and pulled back, a pistol withdrawn.

The pistol itself was simple; a modernized (Technically futurized, but considering the setting Two just came from it's a matter of wordplay.) left-handed LAR Grizzly Win Mag, with an 6.5-inch barrel, the slide and frame extended to prevent what Two called "ugly over-protruding pistol barrels", using a 7-round .50AE magazine. The slide, trigger guard, and receiver are solid black, while the magazines, barrel, trigger, hammer, and all remaining internal parts are silver. The slide's right side contained silver engravings, though the word they once formed is now illegible, having been worn and scratched through battle.

Ensuring the pistol is ready to go, Two moved forward cautiously, prepared for a fight.

Miles away, in an office brimming with gears, a grey-haired man stares out into the distant red forest, a tablet-sized Scroll in his left hand. On the screen was various cameras, watching the new arrival in Forever Fall, having seen them surface from the lake. "Hmm... I did say this would be an interesting year, though this is certainly not what I meant." Opening his messages, he started one addressed to Glynda Goodwitch.

MSG: Prepare a Bullhead to go to Forever Fall, land a half-mile southeast of the lake. We seem to have a new visitor. Perhaps it would be best for you to bring a team of first-years, as well. They could use the extra experience.

Two was ready for a fight.

Two was not ready for a fight against creatures of darkness, with bone masks rivaling early Avalonian armor in strength, as the first shot discovered. Two's usual crowd-fighting tactics did not work; dodging one Beowolf would only result in a swing by another, the pack cutting off escape routes.

Thirteen bullets, twenty werewolf things. Lovely. How to go about this... Eyes flicking around inside the almost gas-mask like helmet, Two's plan came together, a grim smile forming underneath.

Play: Extreme Music - Tear It Down

The first Beowolf rushed, swiping at Two's unmoving figure.

Two ducked underneath, the pistol firing upwards into the Beowolf's jaw before it had time to process what had happened. Two stood up, dashing towards the Grimm's blockade. The Beowolves bared their teeth, ready to feast on a corpse. Jumping over a swing from one of the Grimm, Two grabbed onto the back spikes of one of its companions, using the spike as a fulcrum to spin around, kicking the offending swiper away. Holding on tight with their right hand, Two yanked down. Feet now on the ground, Two's opponent went overhead, rolling over their back before receiving a shot to its open mouth. The remaining Beowolves snarled and growled, circling around what they once thought was an easy kill.

Two Beowolves leaped, their paws sweeping together to kill this annoyance, yelping as they instead crashed into each other, their target having jumped up at the last moment. One shot rang out, piercing through the neck of one of the prone Beowolves, the other having its windpipe crushed by Two using its neck as a landing platform.

Hopping off the deceased Grimm, three shots rang out from the pistol. Two more were dead instantly, a bullet passing into one eye of each. The third one whimpered in pain as it collapsed, the shot going into its left knee, silenced by a boot on its neck.

An empty magazine ejected, a fresh one inserted and the slide pulled back, the pistol was ready once more. Boot still firmly planted on the crippled Grimm, Two pivoted towards an approaching Beowolf and fired, snapping the grounded one's neck as a bullet exited the back of the other Beowolf's head. Two more Beowolves charged, one on the left flank, the other on their right. Letting the disintegrating Beowolf's neck return to its normal position, Two waited until the last moment before backflipping, the left Beowolf receiving a nasty surprise as a corpse was thrown into it, while the right one was shot through the side of the jaw as Two landed. Another shot rang out, killing two more who were stupid enough to line up.

Interrupt: Tear It Down

Override: Black Math - Falling Infinite

The remaining Beowolves backed away as their ears flattened, causing Two to hesitate for a moment, the hairs on the back of their neck tingling. Turning around in the direction the Beowolves were facing, Two froze for a split-second.

A split second was all the new threat needed, catching Two with a large paw. The Alpha had come, angry at the human that dared kill its pack, growling as three shots pinged off its natural armor, the black-wrapped human having stopped a short distance away.

A lone Bullhead flew over the large lake in the center of Forever Fall, heading towards the southeast edge, bay doors opening as it hovered ten feet above the ground.

Four figures jumped out. One dressed in black and red, one in white and blue, one in black and white, and another in brown, black, and yellow. The four prepared their weapons and set up a defensive perimeter, waiting as the Bullhead landed and engines powered down.

Stepping out of the grounded craft was a stern blonde, walking straight with a riding crop in hand, each step radiating authority.

The now-revealed team RWBY relaxed, turning to Goodwitch as she stepped out and began speaking. "Our orders are to search the surrounding area facing away from the southeastern portion of the lake. Ozpin & I have reason to believe that there is a new... visitor to Beacon, that appeared in this sector. The four of you are here to both make the search easier, and potentially provide experience. It could take hours to find th-"

Bang! Whatever Glynda was going to say next was cut off by the sound of nearby gunfire, causing the party to raise their weapons and turn towards the source. "I'm going to guess that was our objective?" Ruby asked meekly, standing straight as Glynda turned towards her. "I do believe so, miss Rose. We must hurry; there is a high chance they are engaged in combat with Grimm."

And so the five ran towards the noise, leaving the Bullhead pilot alone, smirking as they disappeared into the trees. Pulling his scroll out of his pocket and opening it, he launched the recently-released portable version of Kung Fu Ninja Slayer Ultimate Death Battle II.

Arriving on the edge of the clearing where the shot had come from, the group of five stopped as they saw the scene.

Eleven dead Beowolves were scattered around the area, in various states of decay. Eight of them had visibly fatal bullet wounds, while two had snapped and crushed necks. Nine more remained active, though it was the ninth and the figure the nine Beowolves surrounded that gave them pause.

An Alpha Beowolf, standing well over nine feet tall, slowly creeping towards a black figure propped against a tree, flanked by the other eight wolf-like Grimm. The figure was obviously injured - even from this distance they could see they were slouched over.

Snapping out of their stupor, the five charged forward, ready to vanquish these foul monsters that dared attack one of their own.

Ruby, with her speed, was naturally the first one to reach the fight, kicking the Alpha away before firing at its chest. With Grimm, however, age comes with reactions: The Alpha recovered before she could fire, using one of its arm spikes to stop the shot, unable to do anything but growl as she sped off to fight two of its pack, bisecting one with a fluid motion and smashing the other into the ground with the back of Crescent Rose.

Weiss arrived next, spearing one of the smaller Beowolves on Myrtenaster as it turned to roar at her. Pulling her rapier out in one swift motion, Weiss pulled the trigger and swung, freezing another Beowolf solid.

Blake arrived, throwing Gambol Shroud's sheath into the neck of a Beowolf, and catching a second one's leg with the kusarigama form of her weapon, the blade embedding deeply. Running forward, she pulled the sheath out of the first corpse, beheading the second Beowolf in one precise slice.

Next was Yang, her left fist crashing into the face of one Beowolf before Ember Celica's shotguns fired, the Beowolf's neck snapping from the impact before being shredded by the blasts. Turning towards the remaining non-Alpha Beowolf, Yang prepared to fire ... only for Glynda to march past, offhandedly smashing the Beowolf into a tree with a wave of her crop, a glyph springing forth to do her bidding.

Two could very easily say this was the worst day ever. Losing an experimental plane, losing their second-favorite pistol, heavily damaging their custom helmet, jumping into a ravine, swimming up from the bottom of a lake, and fighting creatures made of hatred all in the same day was rather difficult to enjoy, to say the least.

And to top it off, I got thrown into a tree, my right arm doesn't want to work, I'm pretty sure I have one or two broken ribs, and I'm about to die to something that belongs more in a fairy tale ... What's that noise?

Two's question was swiftly answered by the Alpha flying past, embedded into a tree, swiftly followed by a small child with a-

Is that a scythe? What ... this world. This has to be a joke. Maybe I'll take a nap ... a nap sounds good. Haven't had one in a while.

-scythe embedding said weapon into the monster's neck.

Two vaguely saw, through half-lidded eyes, the five saviors crowding around, concern evident on their faces. Any words spoken, however, were muffled by the sound of Two's heartbeat pounding in their own ears. One word stood out, however, before Two began a long rest.

I wond ... wonder what an Aura is.

The five moved to the figure after disposing of the Beowolf pack, looking among each other. Ruby was the first one to speak, trying to figure out how to deal with this situation. "Um, Miss Goodwitch? What do we do...I mean, they're bleeding pretty heavily and judging by the big dent in the tree, they miiight have something broken?"

The aforementioned witch glanced at Ruby, thinking through every situation possible. Save for one option, none of the outcomes in Glynda's mind were particularly good, especially with Ruby's words taken into account.

Is it possible they don't have their Aura yet? The question kept springing to the front of her mind, repeating itself. A few moments later, she had come to a decision. "Children, I believe this person has not unlocked their Aura, and I would advise the four of you to stand back and call for a medical Bullhead." The team did as such, with Ruby dialing for an emergency Bullhead, glancing at each other with worry as Glynda crouched down, placing one hand on the mysterious figure's left breast and the other on the right side of their head. Clearing her throat, Glynda began speaking.

"For it is passing that we achieve immortality." At this, Glynda began to glow a faint purple, while the stranger glowed a weak, scarlet red. "Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory, to rise above all, infinite in distance and unbound by death." The two Auras glowed brighter, meshing together. "I release your soul, and by my shoulder protect thee."

With this, Glynda's arms dropped as her Aura dropped, while the figure's scarlet glow remained for a few scant moments. "I can only hope that was enough to save them until the medics get here." Indeed, the effects of Two's newfound shield were already visible, their breathing steadying out while shifting slightly.

Now that this mysterious figure was no longer in immediate danger, RWBY & Goodwitch were able to get a better view of just what this person's outfit was.

No words came to their mouths, as the figure's outfit was an amalgamation of outfits throughout time.

The boots were thick, insulated and waterproof, made of a synthetic black leather, buttons of silver lining the front and collar, silver socks visible underneath, a black pair of pants overhanging. Two pockets, one on each knee, were clearly visible, though anything past that was obscured by a partially-unbuttoned black leather longcoat, reminiscent of those used by the pilots of Mantle before and during the Great War. Underneath the longcoat was a silver shirt, though the sleeves were obscured. On the stranger's hands were a pair of black and silver hard-knuckled gloves that appeared to be compatible with screens, though the right glove had no finger covers.

Perhaps the most jarring thing, though, was the helmet. It was clearly designed for use in hazardous environments; the front had a forward-extended cover over the mouth and nose, while the eyepieces were a pair of Tyrian-purple Reuleaux triangles, visibly inspired by a gas mask. The sides wrapped around the new arrival's head, with two empty, armored mounts on the cheek areas. The back contained a mount for a hose.

Most of the helmet was black, though there was silver lining around the eyepieces and mounting points. Engraved in silver, on the plating protecting the lower half of the left cheekbone, was Mk. XIX.

Despite these garments, ten pairs of eyes were drawn to a patch on the right shoulder. A solid-red robin, with a gold 2 on its forehead, wings outstretched and in flight, surrounded by a thick silver circle, wingtips connecting to it. Inside the circle were the words 'Nos memento nostri rapto vivit.', emblazoned in gold for all to see.

As the familiar sirens of a medical ship sounded, there was one thought that the five Huntresses shared.

Who is this person, and why do they look like they were ready for war?

End: Black Math - Falling Infinite

Sixteen hours later, in Beacon's trauma ward

"Miss Goodwitch? You can visit your new friend now." stated Calla, Beacon's resident head doctor, snapping Glynda out of her thoughts. Emerald green eyes opened as she stood up, team RWBY in various states of sleep behind her.

"Thank you, Cal. Are they conscious? I have... several questions for them." came the brief reply, Ruby shaking Yang awake just a few feet away.

"Yes, she is conscious, but I would suggest holding off on any important questions until she's in a more, well, agreeable mood."

"...She?"

Calla stepped into the room, moving to the side as the others filed in. Tables, cabinets, tools, and machinery lined the walls. On one of the tables was a neatly-folded stack of the same equipment worn by this new arrival, helmet and gloves resting on top, the coat tattered and faded, a concerning amount of blood on the ripped shirt and stained pants.

The figure in the bed caught everyone's eyes, as it took up the center of the room. Everything below the neck, besides the right arm which rested on top, was covered by a thin blanket. Above the neck was a rather young, oval-shaped pale face with rosy pink lips, twisted into a frown. Crimson hair flowed down to the collarbone, a couple of loose strands nearing a pair of closed eyes.

As everyone stopped moving to look at her, a single Byzantium purple eye cracked open, glaring around the brightly-lit room before settling on the six visitors.

One simple word came out of its owner's mouth, whose facial expression had softened slightly.

"Hello."

AN: Wow. 4,400+ words if you don't include the Author Notes. This expanded FAST.

You know how many words I was expecting it to be? Less than 2,500. I was not expecting it to be... this.

Fun fact: Everything except Two's helmet has a real-life version, though not all of it is in the same colors as here.. The overcoat is a black version of a leather RFC flying coat, the gloves are a pair of fairly modified HWI KTS100's, the shirt is a silver XGO Phase 1 Fire-Resistant Long Sleeve Tee (what a name, huh), pants're a pair of Condor 610C Stealth Operators, and the boots are Belleville 770s with some silver 5.11 Tactical Year-Round OTC socks underneath.