Chapter 3: The First Day


Ghost yawned groggily. She peered off the end of her desk, eyeballing the professor. He was a short, obscenely obese man, with a ridiculous mustache. Didn't he say his name was Poot? No... Port. Yeah, that was it. Professor Port. She yawned again. This fool would not stop obsessing over his... extremely doubtful past achievements. He single handedly, and bare handedly, had killed a Goliath? To be honest, Ghost had no bloody idea what a Goliath was, but she knew he couldn't kill one. Well, maybe, if he sat on it and forced it to listen to his fictional recollections. That might kill it.

"I swung my mighty blunderbuss and bashed the Goliath's skull in!" Port shouted triumphantly, his stubby foot elevated on a stool.

Ghost sighed, resigning her face once more to the desk.

She hadn't talked to anyone all day. That's how the day started anyway. She had woken up and realized that she was in a school. Then, she had looked at her clock, which read five minutes before her first class started. When she'd actually gotten to class, she found this mumbo jumbo mess of shit. Fortunately for her, her schedule for the day included only this (dumb) class and sparring for rest of the afternoon. How bad could sparring be, really?


Turns out sparring could be really, really, really bad.

That is. Really, really, really bad for the people sparring Ghost.

Apparently, there was thing called Aura. It was sort of like training wheels. It was also like, totally, someone's life force. If Aura was depleted, that was it, any more hits taken resulted in actual physical injury, and not something so fragile, like someone's pride. As it turned out, Ghost was extremely adept at beating down both.

Ghost only kind of listened to Glynda's entire spiel about sparring rules. They were basic rules of engagement, but the only ones she knew were:

1. Don't fight dirty unless you have to

2. Don't be a bitch

3. Have fun

"That about sums it up, right?" she asked her brother hushedly, because Glynda was still running her mouth.

Spectre just shrugged, attention elsewhere, "I mean. I usually ignore rule number 1. But whatever you want I guess."

She followed his line of sight. It was directed past the other side of the arena, and centered on a particular girl with a rather large black bow on her head. What was her name again? Oh, Blake. That's right.

Ghost giggled, "Sooo, uh, whatcha ogling?"

"That girl, in the bow over there..."

"Her name's Blake. She seems like your type. Overall antisocial."

"Yeah. Blake... She's hiding something."

"Aren't we all?"

"Yeah, I guess. Her secret just seems to be darker than most others."

"Her eyes?" Ghost remarked quietly.

"Mhm. Dark. Ashamed."

"Miss... Ghost!" Glynda called out from her scroll pad.

"For fuck's sake," the female twin muttered, adding, "Yes ma'am?"

"Please step up to demonstrate the use of this arena for sparring purposes."

Ghost looked back at her brother, who, again, shrugged. This time though, he gave a shooing motion with both hands, a boyish grin appearing on his face. She sighed and vaulted over the stadium wall, into the pit itself. She ambled toward the center, where Glynda was waiting with her opponent. Said opponent was petite, had orange hair, and carried a jumbo sized hammer in one hand. Glynda stepped back, "Nora Valkyrie. Ghost. Are you ready?"

Nora gave a thumbs up, grabbing her hammer with her other hand, "Yep! Rea-dy!"

Ghost just nodded. She'd had a long day and was just ready to go back to spectating.

"All right then," Glynda more or less ran away out of the pit, "Good luck! You may begin!"

Forcefields rose in a dome over the arena, in an eerily blue wave. Then they became transparent.

Ghost blinked lazily, "All right, miss. Shall we?"

No distinguishable word response. Just a massive hammerhead rocketing in her direction and a loud "WAHOO!" Ghost took a sideways step, the hammer and person holding it flew past, just a hairbreadth away. This gave her an actual good look at her opponent, and what lay in store in the battle to come.

Ghost's eyes scanned up and down, within the span of a second.

The first thing she noted was the weapon. At first glance, it seemed like just a normal warhammer. Though, there was an interesting thing about it. There was an embedded muzzle at it's head. There were also many parts of the hammer that were sectioned off, most likely for some form of mecha-shift. That muzzle was probably the end of some kind of gun then, for long range. However, there were no indications of any ammo storage, which begged the question of where the ammunition actually came from. Did they come from that Aura shit that Glynda had sapped on about? Probably. Doesn't matter anyway. The next thing she noticed was the amount of power that Nora placed into her blow. Her knees were bent slightly, hands clenched tightly, and teeth grit abnormally hard. This was a pure power stance. She was putting everything she had into this blow.

There. That was it. That was how Ghost was going to win.

Ghost shuffled away, her hand reaching up to her left shoulder. Nora advanced just as quickly again, and swung sideways. In a single, calculated, smooth motion, Ghost drew her uchigatana, let it rotate into an underhand grip, and stiffened her arm into a blocking stance. She took a step forward, letting the hammer skid past along her blade, and cupped the back of Nora's head with her hand. She gave a hard shove, letting the girl use her own momentum to send herself flying into the forcefield. It shimmered blue, and Ghost winced at the distinct crackle it made. I hope I didn't hurt her, Ghost was suddenly worried, Oh.. Yeah. Aura. Shielding. She's totally fine.

Nora bounded to her foot, her hammer transforming into a grenade launcher.

Oh yeah, she's completely and totally fine, Ghost gasped, Nothing this girl does is small.

Canisters flew every which way, as Nora tried to hit Ghost with something. But she just couldn't seem to hit her. Ghost was moving inhumanly fast, without breaking even a sweat. She called out, bored-like, "Come on. I thought you were actually trying."

Nora blinked once, then grinned wickedly. Her launcher made a strange clicking noise, and she pulled the trigger once more. This time, a flurry of grenades came flying at the white haired woman, in the formation of a heart. Ghost steadied herself by placing a foot back, "That's more like it."

She looked at the incoming grenades, gripping her sword a little tighter. Their simultaneous launch pattern was going to make it hard to dodge, or even cut down them all. Which meant... Ghost smiled, this was going to be good. She bent her knees and launched herself into the air, directly toward the grenades. She pulled her arms in, and pointed her feet down, pencil-like. She just barely slid through the formation of grenades, and flipped over behind Nora. Ghost stuck her tongue out, "That might have worked on a fat pig like.. Oh I dunno. Glynda."

The audience gasped.

She just grinned even wider, "But on me? No way sista!"

Nora responded with a weapon shift, an overhead swing, which was followed up with an uppercut from. This time, Ghost was perfectly prepared. She grabbed the hammer handle, and again used Nora's momentum to send her flipping over her head. But now, Ghost followed Nora's motion, letting her right hand fall to the ground to steady herself. The rest of her body went into a sideways slip, her uchigatana pulsing with black, nightmarish energy.

Spectre's eyes bulged from the crowd, Is she fucking crazy? He shouted, "Too much! TOO MUCH!"

Ghost barely heard him, but wisely held back slightly. Her body completed the maneuver, and her left arm swung around, bringing to bear her weapon. An ominous black swathe of energy erupted from her blade, chasing after the tumbling Nora. It struck the girl dead on, and continued on past her to the forcefield. It slammed into the forcefield and rocked the entire room. After a moment, the forcefield shimmered once, then fell, and the wave of energy hit the, thankfully, empty seats in the stadium. It cut a deep gash into one side of the stadium. But that wasn't the worrying part. Ghost glanced at her fallen opponent. There appeared to be a crackling field that outlined her skin. Is that Aura? She ran over to Nora, and knelt down, pressing two fingers to her neck. A pulse. Thank God. She stood up, taking a deep breath. If she hadn't held back... she might have killed her. A spattering of footsteps caught her attention. She looked up, to see Nora's team, Jaune, a Spartan looking girl, and a raven haired man in some kind of tunic, come running toward their fallen comrade. They were followed by Glynda and a slow clapping Spectre.

Ghost smiled sheepishly, "I guess this means I won, professor?"

Glynda nodded, face pale, still staring at the destruction caused, "Yes. You won. Thank you... for the demonstration."

Spectre guffawed, "I guess this Aura stuff isn't nearly as potent as you thought, eh, sis?"

"Guess not," Ghost blushed, "Is Nora going to be okay?"

Glynda gave her a quick look over, "She'll be fine. That... energy you let off was just under the threshold to completely deplete her Aura. Any more, and she would have been caused major harm."

Guess I was right then.

Spectre nudged his sister, "Come on. You look tired. Let's get something to eat. We have to meet that representative tomorrow, so we should probably talk about that whole ish."


The two twins leaned back, stomachs sated. They had luckily found a convenient noodle joint right beside the aircraft landing pad in the city of Vale. The owner was nice enough, or, rather, not busy enough to let them take up the entire bar for themselves.

Ghost belched, "You know. I think I could get used to this."

Her brother looked at her contentedly, "Huh?"

"I think I could get used to beating the tar out of some kid, then getting absolutely trashed on food."

"Me too."

"Shut up, you didn't have to do anything today."

"Pansy."

"Asshole."

They sat at the bar, for another five minutes, cursing at each other and laughing into the evening air. Spectre closed his eyes. His day was actually pretty peaceful and entertaining for once. He let his mind fall blank, all worries sinking away. A flash of red in his brain caused his eyes to bounce open. Someone was watching them. He nudged his sister gently, "Oi."

"What?" a disgruntled moan.

"You have this feeling?"

"Yeah."

"Well?"

"Well what?" Ghost groaned, "What do you want me to do about it? It's probably on the rooftop or something."

"I dunno. Maybe... go after it or something?"

"Nah, I'm good."

"What the hell? What if it's bad?"

"What if it isn't?"

Spectre frowned, "I hate you. I'm going after it. I'll meet you back at Beacon."

"See ya, you fool."

He got to his feet, and walked swiftly into the nearest alley. He glanced around, catching sight of an emergency fire ladder. He jumped up onto it and ascended to the roof, fifteen stories. He clambered over the edge of the building, desperately searching for oxygen, and rotated around, looking for the person who was watching him. There was a long figure, a woman, standing on the far edge of the rooftop. He got up, and started over to her, trying to be as quiet as possible. But she heard, and turned to face him. Spectre gasped, this woman was familiar. Pain flashed through his brain, and he crashed to his knees, clasping at his head. Visions. Memories. A destroyed school. Dead students. A lone woman standing amongst the wreckage.

Spectre's vision cleared mostly, and he squinted at the oncoming woman. This was the same woman from his vision during the jump. There was no way it wasn't. She wore the same red dress, the same shoes, the same tinkling anklet. More pain flashed through his head, and he grasped at it again, letting it fall to the ground.

The woman reached him, and extended her arm down, to touch his head. She murmured, "Who are you?"

She made contact with Spectre's hair. The moment she did, the very same visions that he was cursed with fell upon her. They were swift and sudden, but complete. She fell backward, gasping for air. When her nerves finally calmed their tingling, she looked at the fallen man. Spectre was just staring blankly at her. She whispered, half in awe, half in horror "What are you?"

He smiled slightly, "I should ask you the same question. My name is Spectre. Strange, I know. But I want to know why you were watching my sister and me."

The woman's dignity returned and she stood up, expression becoming smug, and voice following suit, "I find you interesting."

Spectre got up as well, chuckling, "I would be lying if I said you were the first, gorgeous woman who said that about me."

"Please don't blindly flatter me," she smirked, "You know nothing about me."

He picked lazily at his nails, "Well, for one, I know that you're probably going to be responsible for the utter destruction of Beacon Academy. You saw that too."

"Yes, I did," she nodded, "Which brings me to my second question... What... are you?"

All she got was a snort and a rebuttal, "Beats me. As far as I know, I'm just human. What are you? Especially since you seem so capable of murdering thousands of innocent students."

The woman sauntered forward, very slowly, hips swaying, "Tell me, do you believe in fairy tales?"

Spectre's mouth turned up, into a returned smirk, "I believe in things that are true."

She leaned in, so close that he could smell her. Her scent was... sweet... and lingering. She whispered, almost seductively, "I am fate, coming to right the arrogance that rules this kingdom."

Spectre closed his eyes and stepped back. He could sense something else beneath her vixen-like behavior. Something darker. There it was. A terrifying killing intent, jaded by patience and intelligence. His right hand subconsciously rose to his shoulder, where his uchigatana's hilt rested. He sniffed back, "That doesn't tell me your name though. I'd love to know the some of such a sexily secret woman."

She kept advancing, "We all have secrets. Why is the secret of my name of any consequence to you?"

"Well you see," Spectre shuffled backwards toward the edge of the rooftop, "I at least like to know the name of the women I'm going to fuck up."

He paused, "That sounded weird."

The woman laughed, "Are you so sure? Fate cannot be denied."

Her hand began glowing ominously orange. Spectre quipped, "The future is never set. I will stop you. And I will find out your name."

The woman raised her glowing hand, and flames erupted from it. Spectre took a deep breath, turned, and took a flying leap off of the fifteen story building. Massive waves of flames chased after him overhead.

Wind screamed past him, as he focused his thoughts. The small corner of his mind, containing his inborn ability. He distinctly recalled something that had been mentioned in class earlier that day. It regarded something called Semblances, which were the manifestations of a person's inner power, specifically tailored to their personality. Spectre smiled, So that's what my character actually is like. He felt the corner of his mind open up, and power flooded through his body. He closed his eyes, and let it sweep him away.

The ground flew closer, foot by foot. Forty feet. Twenty. Ten. His feet made contact with the ground, and he instantaneously shot off back in the general direction of Beacon Academy. Only a faint afterimage was left behind. It didn't take ten seconds for him to reach the school, he was travelling so fast. It rapidly approached, transforming from a faint speck to it's normal, massive overhanging size in the span of three seconds. Spectre released his desire to release his Semblance, or whatever it was, and he immediately slowed down. It wasn't enough, and he continued along the courtyard at about thirty five miles an hour, tumbling end over end. He finally flipped over one last time, into the courtyard fountain, where he rose, sopping wet and pitiful. He slumped over the edge of the fountain and sighed.

There was a pair of feet directly in front him, combat boots actually. He groaned, "How the hell did you get back so fast?"

It was none other than his sister, who just beamed, "I might have stolen one of those bomb ass air cycle thingamajiggers. They move really fast if you ignite the fuel tank."

Spectre laughed, choking on water, "Great, I escaped one pyromaniac, right back to another pyromaniacal, kleptomaniac, idiot of a sister."

Ghost grabbed the back of his hoodie, hauling him out of the fountain, "It runs in the family, I guess."

"Yo, that shit does not run in the men's side."

"Sure it does. You're just too young to really feel it."

"...Baka na no?"


Cinder Fall examined her handiwork from a distance. The building she had previously been on top of had, somehow, miraculously exploded, according to the news reporters. The raven-haired pyromancer stepped back into the shadows, her confident smile never wavering. Since she had encountered Spectre, there was this feeling in her chest, one that she couldn't quite shake. It burned, not painfully, but pleasantly warm, like it connected her to the strange man. Like it whispered to her, telling her insatiable desires, unquenchable thirsts. Her eyes glistened and she brought a single hand to her chest, as if to grasp at the sudden, unfamiliar warmth. Her voice bled through the night, like soft embers gleaming in the cool air.

"So... the legends are true. The twins have returned. But where do their allegiances truly lie, now?"


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Much love!

~Angel