"Come on we're almost there!" A deep gruff male voice encourages his team. "Just five more seconds!"

True to his word, only five seconds later the group of four burst into a room. They don't enter all at once, they come in as a group of three followed by the last person. It isn't because they planned it like this. It isn't because they felt like it, it's out of necessity.

The trio that entered are covered in blood and gore, particularly the woman who is being held between her two teammates. She's missing the lower half of her left leg, it's been ripped off. The wound is jagged and torn and she must be in excruciating pain, but she's holding her tongue for now.

It's because she knows that the more noise she makes, the more Grimm will come after them. They don't need any more black beasts to join the horde that's right behind them.

"You should have left me behind." The woman hisses out in pain as her team lowers her to the ground. "Why didn't you just leave me behind?! You all could have made it!"

If it weren't for her missing limb and the pain distorting her face this woman would be considered quite beautiful. She's a dirty blonde and lightly tanned. She's neither tall nor short but a happy average height. Her features are perfectly proportioned, they're just right for her body. She has luscious full red lips that are usual curled into a smile instead of twisted in agony. Her expressive green eyes are dry, despite being in such excruciating pain she's not shedding a single tear. That's the resolve of a Huntress.

But she committed the greatest sin a Huntress could do. She lost her weapon, and soon after her leg.

"That's not how we work Lilly." The deep gruff voice from earlier says.

Contrary to his voice, the man is a rather stout person. He's slightly below average height for his age, which is a respectable 24 like the rest of his team, but he's built like a truck. He is muscular to the extreme, capable of outshining all but the most dedicated body builders. He has to be to have any hope of wielding the massive tower shield he has strapped to his back. His face is rugged, it's sweaty and dirty but beneath the grime he has a strong jaw set in determination. His bald head usually shines brightly, but now it's dull and dirty because of the battle. His deep blue eyes have a fierce quality to them, like he's daring the Grimm who hurt his team to try to get him. They'd just smash against his shield, and he'd laugh as they broke themselves against it.

But he can't do that. He already did and his tried and true tactic failed him for the first time. The Grimm were too strong, too old and there were too many. Something happened that he thought never could, his shield broke. It's torn in two with just the arm straps holding the pieces together.

"Kobalt is right." A smoother, more regal voice comes from the other male who helped carry Lilly from the horde of Grimm. "If there's a chance to save someone, even if it's only a sliver of hope, we're taking it."

This man is the opposite of Kobalt, if Kobalt is brute force than this man is precision personified. He's tall and lanky, but that's to his advantage. His body has the makings of a sprinter and his clothes reflect that. He wears snug clothes so they stay out of his way when he sprints and dices up his enemies. His weapons are two crimson gunblades no longer than a dagger. With them he's a force to be reckoned with. His face looks like it was cut from marble, he's a beautiful specimen. Back when he was still learning to be a Huntsman his fellow female companions would swoon over him, basically he's a pretty boy. Even his muddy brown eyes only served to enhance his delicate features despite being the most common eye color in the world.

Or they used to. The entire right side of his face has been savagely clawed to shreds. You can see parts of his skull because the wounds are so deep and one of his beautiful brown eyes is gone, ripped from it's socket.

"Thanks Napier. I can always count on you to back me up." Kobalt gives his teammate a strong slap on the back, causing him to stumble under the force.

"This door isn't going to hold for long." The last person to enter the room says. "There has to be at least fifty Grimm on the other side, at least the big ones couldn't make it into the building. So much for a routine scouting mission. We just had to stumble across the largest Grimm nest discovered in the last two decades."

This man has his back to his teammates, he's glaring at the steel door that's shaking in it's frame with each blow it takes from the other side with resigned green eyes. Deep down he knows that the odds that everyone will make it out alive are practically zero.

This man has a body of a marathon runner. He didn't focus on speed, he didn't focus on strength, he focused on stamina. He's a seemingly unhealthy pale, but that's due to his genetics rather than his lack of going outside. His hair is jet black and if the light hits it just right there's a deep green hue to it. He's wearing clothing fit for combat, the black pants with multiple pockets are made from a durable material that is both tear and cut resistant. He has on a black shirt that's made of a similar material and over all of that is what used to be a brilliant white trench coat. It's forever stained with the blood of his friends, and there's a slow but steady drip of blood rolling out of his right pant leg. He's been cut on his thigh, not enough to be a problem. Yet, if left unchecked he'll bleed out. There's a minute amount of Deathstalker venom in the wound that's preventing it from clotting.

"Really Blackthorn?" Kobalt says sarcastically. He's trying to lighten up their dire situation. "I had no idea that the shit hit the fan. What gave it away? The horde of Grimm howling for our blood or the fact that three out of the four of us can't fight effectively anymore? Lilly can't even stand, Napier can't see right and my weapon is trashed. Hell you're the only one who still has any aura left! It's like Christmas came early!"

His attempt at bringing the mood up had the opposite effect. Everyone has drawn the same conclusion, that this dreary room in a broken down building within an abandoned city will be their tomb.

"At least we got most of those fuckers. Fifty is nothing compared to what we just fought!" Kobalt boasts. He's not lying, the nest of Grimm they found was teeming with them. They've been fighting for hours upon hours. But even a team as good as Team BLNK has a breaking point, theirs is apparently around three hundred Grimm. It's a feat that few could hope to match.

"Shut up." Napier barks out as pain shoots through his jaw. "Not helping." The adrenaline rush from before has worn off a little, he can feel every twitch of his face now. It's the most painful thing he's ever felt.

"Yeah." Lilly snorts. "Wish I was that good. Maybe then I could fucking walk still!"

"Oh shut up." Kobalt idly waves off Lilly's anger. "It's not like you can't get a prosthetic or something."

"Say that again and I'll make sure you need a prosthetic too!" Lilly hisses out in pain filled fury.

"Not. Helping." Napier repeats while stepping between his bickering teammates. This isn't anything new, Lilly and Kobalt are always at each other's throats. It's one of the many charms of Team BLNK.

"Fine, fine! We do have more important things to worry about." Kobalt turns to Blackthorn. He's still glaring at the door, but the way he's carrying himself changed. Just moments ago his shoulders were slack with defeat but now they're square. He's determined, he has a plan. "Alright boss-man, you look like you've got a plan. How do you see us getting out of this one?"

"You've got at least one good hit left with your shield right?" Blackthorn asks.

Kobalt winces. "Well yeah, but that'll totally trash it. I kinda wanted to bring it back in reasonably good shape. Or just one piece. I'd settle for either at this point."

"Good enough for me." Blackthorn turns his ever watchful gaze away from the warping door to point at the far wall. "You're going to bust a hole big enough for you three to escape in that wall."

"I can do that!" Kobalt smacks his chest in a manly fashion. "Easiest thing I've done all day!"

"Blackthorn." Lilly's voice is quiet, she barely whispered his name but it was clearly heard by everyone. "Don't you dare say it."

"Say what?" Kobalt turns to his downed teammate.

"He wants to stay." Napier forces out despite the growing pain talking causes him.

Only the repeated sound of Grimm slamming into the steel door is heard, the entire team is quiet. Three of them are stunned by their leader who isn't even attempting to deny the accusation and is instead hanging his head.

Kobalt storms over to his leader and gets right in his face. "Look me in the eyes." Blackthorn's gaze isn't lifted from the floor. "Dammit man look me in the eyes!" Blackthorn pulls his eyes off of the ground to meet Kobalt's gaze. "Can you beat them? You're the strongest out of all of us. You're the most talented, the most skilled. If anyone can pull this off then it's you. So answer me. Can you beat them?"

"Yes." The lie flows smoothly out of Blackthorn's mouth. It may sound convincing, but the look of betrayal in his eyes gives him away.

"Napier." Kobalt doesn't look away from his leader. "Grab Lilly."

Napier quickly swings one of Lilly's arms over his shoulder. "Need help. Can't do alone."

"I'll be there once I bust the hole in the wall." Kobalt turns away from Blackthorn and pulls out his broken shield.

"NO! Put me down! I should be the one to stay!" Lilly starts squirming in Napier's grasp. "Don't do it!Blackthorn! Don't you dare do it!"

"Okay." Kobalt says over the shouts of Lilly. "Once I bust this open we have to move. We can't look back."

Napier looks over to his quiet leader. This will be the last time they see each other. "Survive. Don't care how. Do it."

"God dammit Blackthorn just come with us!" Lilly roars, she doesn't care how loud she's being right now. "Don't throw your life away like this!"

A small smile appears on Blackthorn's face. "Lilly I can't. The door is going to break any moment and the Grimm would just follow us through. Someone has to hold them back." He looks at each of his teammates in turn, engraving them forever into his memory one last time. "Besides, I'm not throwing away my life. I'm protecting my team."

CREAK

One of the corners on the steel door finally gave out, it's folded inward. It's going to crumble any moment now.

"Blackthorn!" Lilly shouts as her leader turns away from his team. "Blackthorn!"

"Hey boss-man, I might never get to ask this again so I'll do it now." Kobalt readies his shield to break down the wall. "We've only ever heard you called Blackthorn, but that's your last name. What's your first name?"

"Shit like that doesn't matter!" Lilly frantically renews her struggle in Napier's grasp. "He can tell us over drinks once we're back! Like always! Like it should be! Blackthorn! Turn around!"

"Oh. Well you've never asked." Blackthorn draws his weapon.

A gleaming black curved blade is unsheathed. There doesn't seem to be anything particularly special about the long one sided blade at first, but then seven faint transparent black ribbons made of pure light seemingly fall out of the blade but remain connected at the handle. Each ribbon is as long as the blade itself and they seem to move with a mind of their own, they even defy gravity. They are almost like tentacles but they don't react with the environment. They phase through whatever they touch as if it's not there.

"My first name isn't a secret. It's Bob." Blackthorn says conversationally.

Napier let's out an undignified snort. He's not buying it for a moment.

"Yeah right!" Kobalt says as he hunkers over. He's going to charge and crash into the wall at a full sprint. "Like I'm going to believe you're a Bob! If you didn't want to say, all you had to do was tell us. But in the end, that's just like you. Even facing death you can crack a joke. I respect that."

CRACK

The steel door cracks straight down the middle.

"Blackthorn!" Lilly shouts and Napier pulls her over to where the hole is going to be. "Blackthorn!"

"Goodbye everyone." Blackthorn says. There's not a trace of hate or disappointment in his words. Nor is there regret.

"Goodbye Blackthorn." Kobalt says and he takes off at a sprint.

"Goodbye Blackthorn." Napier forces out regardless of his pain. He knows that he'd forever regret not saying those words.

"Blackthorn this isn't goodbye!" Lilly shouts. "You get your sorry ass out of here! You hear me Blackthorn!"

At the exact same moment that Kobalt crashes through the wall the Grimm finally break through the sundered steel door.

"BLACKTHORN!" Lilly roars as her leader leaps into a sea of black and white monsters.

He's moving with all the grace and planning of a world renowned dancer. He's twirling and stepping in time to the symphony of battle, as if he's the lead dancer and everyone else is one of his multiple partners. No matter which partner steps up, Blackthorn knows exactly how to dance with them. He handles each partner with a dignified grace and then moves onto the next without fanfare.

Except there is no pleasant music to accompany this dance of death, there is no forgiveness if he missteps, and there are no partners. They're brutal beasts that have every intention of cleaving him in two.

But it's the beasts that are being beaten and pushed back by the deadly dance. It's them who fall to his blade, it's their arms that are separated from their bodies, it's their heads that fall off their shoulders. Blackthorn is a whirling tempest of cold black steel and determination. He's grinning like a madman, not because of the thrill of the battle but because he knows that with each Grimm that falls to him the better the chances his friends have to live. Even if it's only by a fraction of a percent.

It's still not enough. He has to make sure every Grimm goes for him instead of his wounded team.

"Come on you mindless beasts!" Blackthorn shouts over the sounds of his deadly dance. "You want to see what we Huntsmen are capable of? Then come on! Come out and fight me! I'll take you all on!"

In response to his declaration of battle, even more Grimm pour into the hallway that Blackthorn bravely leaped into.

"Is this the best you can do? Yes! More! Try and kill me!" He cleaves a large Beowulf in two. "Try and rip me limb from limb!" A small but nimble Ursa falls to his blade next. "Try to tear into my flesh! Try everything you can, and know that it's all useless!"

He slashes his blade and out of it a long crescent blade of energy shears down the hallway, falling another four Grimm by itself. One of the black pulsating ribbons fades away from Blackthorn's sword.

Despite the impressive display of his combat prowess so far, none of the Grimm are phased. Even though they're seeing their own kind fall by the dozens they don't care. After all, what's a few dozen compared to the hundreds roaming the city?

"BLACKTHORN!"

"Even if this is the last time I'll see it, watching him go all out is breathtaking." Kobalt quickly throws Lilly's other arm over his shoulder. "Napier! Let's move!" They all hurry through the new exit.

"BLACKTHORN!" Lilly's enraged shout echoes back into the war zone as Blackthorn cuts through countless Grimm.

"Come forth and die!" Blackthorn shouts at his foes. No matter how many Grimm he cuts down, more pour in without an end. There is not a moment of rest to be had. As each opponent falls the next one is eager to take it's place. They know, like a feeling in their guts, that eventually they will win. So what if this man is the most skilled human they've ever seen? So what if he's already killed so many of them? With each Grimm that falls, he slows down. He's weakening, and eventually he will weaken just enough for one of them to land the final blow.

As if sensing this weakness, one of the older and more deadly Beowulfs darts forward to clash against the lone human. The Grimm barely manages to last for five seconds, but in those precious five seconds it managed to land a light scratch onto the human's forearm.

"Tch." Blackthorn says as the next Grimm leaps forward to confront him. It's not just the Grimm that know he's slowing down, that he's weakening. Blackthorn knows it too. "Not yet. I don't get to die yet."

"BLACKTHORN!"

"I don't get to die until I can't hear her voice anymore." Blackthorn throws himself into battle with a renewed sense of vigor. "Until they're all safe I don't get to die! Once they're free, then and only then will one of you have the pleasure of claiming my head! But until then it's me who claims yours! It's me who hunts you tonight, Creatures of the Grimm! Now come and die!"

"Blackthorn!" Her shouts get quieter as her teammates drag her away.

"Blackthorn!"

"Blackthorn?"

"Blackthorn?"

"Mr. Blackthorn? Are you alright?" A gentle voice pulls Blackthorn from his memories.

"Sorry." Blackthorn apologizes. "Sometimes it's easy to get lost in your memories."

Long gone is the abandoned building. Long gone is the broken steel door. Long gone is his team. Right now Blackthorn is sitting in a large office with many gears rotating in endless loops before two people. One of them is an understanding white haired man with a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. The other is a disapproving woman with shockingly vibrant green eyes.

"I understand." The gentle white haired individual says. "Could you finish your tale? What happened next? Your team survived, yes?"

"No." Blackthorn utters out in defeat. "There – there were more Grimm than we knew about outside the building. Old Grimm. Deadly Grimm. They ran right into a mob of them. Usually it wouldn't be a problem for them, but they... they were already defeated. Lilly was the first to die, she couldn't get away. Napier was next, he couldn't dodge an attack from his blinded side. And Kobalt was ripped to shreds once his fists became broken from beating the Grimm back with his bare hands." A small fond smile forms on Blackthorn's face. "Even then they still took down some of them. They didn't go without a fight. I couldn't have asked for a better team."

"Then how did you survive?" The gentle man asks.

"I cut them down." Blackthorn looks up at the two people. "I cut them all down. You have to understand, it wasn't supposed to be that way. It was me who was supposed to die that night! I was attracting the Grimm to me so they could get away! I just wanted them to make it! I just wanted my team to live. They deserved to live." Blackthorn hangs his head in defeat. Even now, months later, that night haunts him. It will haunt him forever. "I didn't think I could actually win after fighting so hard for so long. If I had known I could I wouldn't have sent them away. I would have gone with them. I would have done more to protect them. But even with all of my talents I couldn't see the outcome. In the end I failed them."

"I am sorry for your loss." The gentle man tenderly says. "It's always hard to lose a team member, even harder when you lose them all. I am sorry if this sounds harsh of me, but what does this have to do with your job application? You applied to be a combat instructor at my school and when I asked why, you told me your story."

"You had to understand what I went through to know my motivation." Blackthorn looks up. There's a fire in his eyes now, a flame that has been snuffed out for months is back. "I went through hell. I attempted to give the ultimate sacrifice. I lost it all. If it's in my power, no one else will go through that. The best way to achieve that goal isn't to become an all powerful force, it isn't to ascend to godhood. No, it's teaching the next generation to be better than I am. That is how I will protect them, I will teach them to protect themselves."

"A truly admirable goal, and one I wholeheartedly support." The man says. "But there is no open spot for you to be a combat instructor on my staff."

"Oh." The flame in Blackthorn's eyes waiver for a moment, then returns fiercer than ever. Just because one school denied him does not mean the others will. His options are not out yet, there is always another way to move forward. "Okay then. I thank you for your time." He rises up to leave.

"But I have something different." The man continues. "It's not quite what you were looking for, instead of being a combat instructor I want you to be a combat tutor."

"There's a difference?" Blackthorn asks in mild confusion and with a sliver of hope. To him they mean the same thing, so maybe this will work out after all.

"Yes, while an instructor works with classes a tutor would work one on one with students. The students themselves would have to sign up to be tutored under you since it is not a required course, that means anyone with any skill level could apply. You could tutor students who are novices or prodigies."

"I..." Blackthorn is rendered speechless for a moment. Then he sits back down in his chair. "I think that's even better than I expected. To be able to work one on one with students who want to improve themselves? It's exactly what I was hoping for."

"Of course, as a staff member you would be required to do certain duties such as patrolling the halls at night, keeping the students in line, and overseeing outings. Some of those outings would be on missions. Missions where the chances of coming in contact with Grimm are high." The man hints a question towards Blackthorn. He wants to know if Blackthorn considers himself combat ready after going through his traumatic event.

"I have no issues with that." Blackthorn eagerly says. "So... does that mean I'm hired?"

"It does." A smile forms on the gentle man's face. "Welcome to Beacon."

"Thank you!" Elation is the only way to describe Blackthorn's feelings. This is the first step in achieving his goal. "Thank you Mr. Ozpin! Ms. Goodwitch!"

"Please," Ozpin waves off Blackthorn. "there is no need to be so formal. Ozpin and Glynda will do."

"Speak for yourself." Glynda mutters under her breath.

"Thank you both so much!" Blackthorn leaps out of his seat and rushes to the elevator. "I can't wait to tell Mom! She's going to be so excited! This whole thing was her idea to begin with! She kept telling me to quit moping about and do something productive." The doors ding closed behind him.

"He's... a mother's boy?" Glynda says in surprise.

"We all have our uniqueness. Some just form it different than others." Ozpin takes a sip of his coffee. "Besides, after going through what he did it's only natural to turn to family."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Glynda asks. "You're bending a lot of rules this year, first you let that Ruby Rose in two years early and now you've hired a combat tutor. We've never had a combat tutor before, there's only been talks of adding that spot to our staff. Is he even qualified for the spot? We didn't test his combat skills. How can we be sure that students will sign up for it?"

"On the contrary, I believe there will be too many students signing up for it." Ozpin looks down at Blackthorn's application. "To think that Atlas's star student, one that has broken world records by leagues, would decide to apply to teach at my school."

"He's that Blackthorn? The one that has never been beaten before? The one that took down three teams of trained huntsmen and huntresses by himself simply because someone bet that he couldn't? One of the most dangerous persons – maybe even the most dangerous person - to ever come out of the Atlas training program? The one whose team was sent on suicide mission after suicide mission but always came back victorious?"

"Unfortunately we know that one to no longer be true."

"He's taken down some of the oldest Grimm known to mankind in one on one fights! He's barely twenty five and he's already becoming a legend! That Blackthorn?"

"Yes." Ozpin smiles to himself.

"James is going to be livid."

"Of that I have no doubt."