Buying Time


The second they stopped, Blake was surrounded.

Ruby and Yang bracketed her left and right, with Weiss settling in on Ruby's other side. Team JNPR was arrayed in front of them, sitting cross-legged or, in Nora's case, lying on her stomach. And, of course, they were talking. It was all very sweet, and friendly, and well-meant, and it made her want to scream.

She caught herself brooding—she wanted to claim she was 'lost in thought' or 'pensive,' but she was already dodging around the word 'sulking' so brooding would have to do. If the others noticed, and she was fairly sure Yang had, they didn't force her into the conversation. She let it wash over her. The words were hard to pick apart, and she was so exhausted...

"What do you think?" Yang asked, gently nudging her side. Blake stared at her for a moment, suddenly and powerfully reminded of being asked the same thing in Doctor Oobleck's class. "Yes," she guessed.

Judging by the odd looks from her friends, this was the wrong answer. She curled into herself a little. "Um, What was the question?"

Yang pointed at Nora, who was standing on her hands. Judging by the way her arms were shaking, she'd been doing it a while. "Oh. Nice."

Concerned looks were exchanged, but no one said anything. Instead Nora flipped back on to her feet, folded her arms across her chest, and stuck out her tongue. Then she flopped to the floor and went right back to whatever conversation they'd been having that had led to her doing a handstand in the first place. At least, Blake assumed it was the same conversation—for all she knew, they'd been speaking in tongues until just now. This time, she made a bit more of an effort to pay attention.

"What do you want to do first, when we get out of here?" Jaune asked the group at large.

Blake didn't know. What were they supposed to do, when the immediate life-or-death situation resolved itself? They'd have to go to Ozpin, wouldn't they, and tell him about the lake. Maybe he'd know what to do... but he wasn't a god. She couldn't see how he'd be able to block off the cave.

Of course they'd go to him... but would she? Should she tell him of her own private suspicions, or trust him to come to the same conclusion on his own if it were accurate? She wasn't sure she could say it out loud—it was hard to think it. We're probably livestock...

"We should have a team day out, or something," Yang suggested. Blake jumped, startled out of her thoughts by her partner's voice. "Maybe go to Vale, and... I don't know, usually when we do that something explodes."

"When we go with you guys, sure," Jaune smirked. "Team Juniper has had plenty of successful outings, thank you very much!"

"Successful?" Ren repeated, raising an eyebrow. "We were kicked out of the arcade."

"One time!" Jaune groaned.

"Twice, actually," Pyrrha corrected him apologetically.

"Let's make it three!" Nora cheered, pumping her fist. She furrowed her brow. "Thrice?"

"I'll pass," Weiss said flatly. "The second I get back to Becaon, I am headed straight to our room and going to bed. Hopefully for at least a week."

"Yeah," Ruby agreed. "Sleep sounds really nice... but like, on a mattress, not..." she gestured at the ground and made a face.

"How 'bout you?" Yang asked Blake, a bit hesitantly. She mustered a smile.

"We should probably talk to Ozpin. And get food. Definitely not in that order."

Ruby giggled. "I vote we make Ren cook."

Ren put both of his hands up, fingers spread and palms facing outward. The others all stared at him in confusion before Nora elaborated. "Ten minutes. It's the rule—if he's hungry, he doesn't make anything that takes longer than that."

"So... break into the cafeteria?" Yang suggested.

"That's assuming we get back in the middle of the night," Weiss pointed out. "Not to mention the fact that they'll probably let us in anyway, since we've been out on a mission for days with only enough food for one meal."

"I'm just glad Dove kept his pack." Jaune rubbed the back of his head nervously. "That could've been bad."

"Not as bad as being eaten by a giant spider, though," Nora said cheerfully.

"Few things are, Nora," Ren sighed.

"Well, there's always being eaten by an Ursa, being eaten by a Beowolf—that'd just be embarrassing—being eaten by a Nevermore—"

"Right," Jaune groaned. "Thanks for that."

"I still say the giant spider would be worse," Ruby mused. "Those things are creepy. Did you see the way they moved?" She began crawling her hand along the ground, as if to demonstrate.

Weiss made a face. "Please don't."

"Not a fan of spiders, huh?" Yang teased.

"Not when they're taller than me, no."

"I hate them," Jaune confessed. "Too many legs, you know?"

"Even the little ones?" Ruby asked.

"Pfft, nah..."

"He keeps making us kill them," Nora stage-whispered. "Except Ren likes to rescue them and put them in the hallway."

"Where they inevitably end up in our room," Weiss finished, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. "Thank you so much, Ren."

He shrugged. "They're harmless. And they eat mosquitoes."

Harmless. Blake snorted. The regular variety, maybe, but she couldn't help thinking of the Grimm they'd been fighting recently—the way they moved in near-perfect silence, despite being absolutely massive. Their venom, and how it made its victims look almost dead. That had been her first thought, when Ren had finally gotten his scroll out. Everyone was just lying there...

Her ear pinned itself against the stone wall behind her, and she winced as her fur caught on the rough surface. She pitched forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

"I think I know what I want to do, when I get back to Beacon," Pyrrha decided. "I'm going to tidy up the dorm. No more cluttered corners for spiders to hide in. I do not want them crawling around on the ceiling while I sleep."

"Lame," Nora decided. "I refuse to clean. We'll make the peons do it."

"What peons, Nora?" asked Ren. There was a hint of nervousness in his voice—probably because the answer to his question could easily be, 'Look in the mirror!'

Instead, Nora's eyes rolled sideways towards where Russel and Cardin were sitting, talking quietly amongst themselves. Blake managed the ghost of a smirk at that.

"Nora!" Ren tried to scold her, but it was obvious he was suppressing a laugh.

"I might join you," Weiss mused. "Though the ant population will probably explode the second I do. Some people seem to think they can just leave food lying around." She shot an irritated glare at Ruby and Yang. Their nervous grins were almost identical. That was, until something seemed to occur to Ruby.

"Aw, are spiders killing the poor ants?" she asked, sounding genuinely distressed.

"Really?" Weiss put a palm over her face. "It's worse than I thought. She's feeding them on purpose. Like a crazy pigeon lady, but with insects."

"Nuh-uh!" Ruby denied frantically. "I just... well, I can kinda sympathize with the whole not wanting to get eaten by spiders thing now."

Weiss seemed to absorb that for a moment. Her face turned a few shades whiter than normal. "Oh, wonderful. Now I'm remembering how real spiders eat."

"Please do not share with the class," Yang said hurriedly. "I am blissful in my ignorance, thanks." Jaune, who looked like he might be about to throw up, nodded eagerly.

"Right!" Nora blurted. "Someone say something they want to do when they get back, 'cause I really don't wanna think about spiders anymore."

"Ooh!" Ruby blurted, sitting up straight. "I heard they're opening a new theater in Vale, near where the Beacon airship lands. And, I mean, it's sort of obvious they're trying to get students to come, so they'll probably show a lot of action movies and stuff. We could go!"

Their was a chorus of agreement—Blake made sure to grunt something affirmative. She'd end up getting dragged along anyway, there was no point arguing.

No point. That seemed to be something of a theme for her, lately. She couldn't remember ever being as terrified as she had been yesterday, when the light had gone out. For the first time in her life, she'd been completely blind. There had been noise, but she couldn't put it together into a coherent picture, couldn't figure out where the Grimm were or shoot without hitting her friends. She'd been helpless.

How did spiders eat, anyway? She remembered that it was extremely unpleasant, though she'd learned it a long time ago. It must have been back with her parents, when she spent a lot of her time in libraries browsing the shelves. Sometimes she ran out of fantasy or adventure books, and ended up paging through the nonfiction. It came back to her all at once—the slightly-musty smell of all those books, the coffee the librarian drank, the faint whirring of computer terminals in the background, all carrying a long-lost sense of peace and safety.

It seemed so flimsy, now. The only reason places like that still existed, the only reason they were built in the first place, was that the Grimm hadn't overrun Menagerie. Hadn't overrun Remnant. Why? Why haven't they killed us?

"Blake?"

She jolted back to awareness. Yang was looking at her, clearly concerned.

"What?" she blurted, looking wildly around for the reason her name had been called. She realized JNPR wasn't sitting next to them, anymore. They'd each ended up in their own little clumps, and all of her teammates were staring.

"Are you sure you're okay?" her partner asked. She nodded almost reflexively.

"What were we talking about?" Then, when they started looking even more worried, "I'm fine. I just... tuned out for a moment."

"We were wondering about what to do, going forward," Weiss replied. Her tone suggested that it was a much more serious discussion than the one they'd been having with JNPR.

Yang sighed, leaning back against the cave wall. "I want to figure out what to think about that lake, you know? It's gonna bother me until I do."

Ruby frowned. "As in... how we might stop it?"

Shooting an apologetic glance her way, Yang shook her head. "I mean, what we do now. Even if, hypothetically... we can't."

"Hypothetically?" Blake asked, searching Yang's expression. She seemed... pensive. Lost in thought, but not despairing.

"Well, I'm not sure. I guess there could be something, it's not like I'm all-knowing or anything, but... it seems kind of definite."

"That doesn't mean there's nothing we can do!" Ruby insisted.

Heaving another sigh, Yang flopped over onto her back, kicking up her legs against the wall. It was almost as though she was relaxing in their dorm—in, of course, the strangest position she could manage. "I know that," she said finally. "I mean more... more of a what-if. You know, what if it really is inevitable? What do we do then?"

Weiss nodded. It wasn't an affirmative gesture, exactly, more like she was gathering her thoughts. "I wondered about that, too."

"What do you think?" Yang's eyes grew unusually intense, though the expression looked more silly than anything else upside-down.

"I don't know," Weiss admitted, frowning. "I want to leave something behind, even after I die. I hate the idea of everything I've done amounting to nothing in the end. It... makes me angry. I'd want to hurt them back."

"That seems kinda... dark," Ruby murmured, hugging her knees to her chest.

"Well, we are talking about the hypothetical end of the world," Yang said lightly. "And... yeah, I think I'd want to be fighting, too. I don't know if I like the idea of that being all there is to it, though."

"Obviously not." Rolling her eyes, Weiss finally looked down at where Yang was lying, trying and failing to hide a smirk at the odd pose. "I'd also prefer to live as long as I can, thank you very much."

"This is probably the wrong line of work for that," Blake pointed out. Weiss snorted.

Yang shuffled around a bit, until she was once again in a mostly normal sitting position. Well, apart from the fact that one of her boots was in Ruby's lap. "I just... I feel like there should be something to it. Fighting back, I mean. Like we should be getting something out of it."

"Maybe we are." She looked up, startled. It had been Pyrrha who'd spoken—she'd swiveled around so that she was facing them rather than the rest of her team, and there was a thoughtful, almost melancholy expression on her face that Blake had never seen before. "I think a fight can still be worthwhile, even if it ultimately can't hold back the tide."

Yang perked up, running a hand through her hair and nodding. "I still want to help people."

"So do I," Blake agreed. She curled her legs up under her, focusing mostly on the backs of her hands as she spoke. "I just can't help but feel like we're just... buying time."

"Buying time," Yang repeated, sounding somewhat dazed. Then, a wide smile spread across her face. "Yeah! That's it exactly!"

"It is?" Blake raised an eyebrow. It had seemed to her like a cynical and fatalistic thing to say, not something that could be considered inspiring.

Yang nodded again, more vigorously this time. "I guess... I've heard a lot from dad and Uncle Qrow about protecting the people. It always sounded kind of vague, like I didn't know what I was actually doing. I knew there were Grimm attacking people, and they needed to be stopped, it just never really connected, you know?" She grinned. "But what you said about buying time... I like the idea of fighting off the Grimm, so that people can have moments. 'Cause that's what buying time would be, isn't it? It's letting someone have another year or month, even just another day to do something like... I don't know, have a nice dinner with their parents or go on a date with someone they've been too scared to talk to. Those kinds of things. That seems like something I'd want to fight for."

Only then did Yang seem to realize that everyone else in their little group was staring at her. "What?" she blurted.

"Yang!" Ruby exclaimed, grabbing her sister in a hug. "That's awesome!"

Blake couldn't help but grin. It was very like her partner, to take the sudden revelation of dark forces that were impossible to destroy, that were lairing only fifty miles away from Vale... and somehow find the bright side. For one brief, absurd moment she almost felt that everything would, despite all available evidence, be okay.

She knew the kinds of moments Yang was talking about—she could see them in her head, months' worth of snapshots of her life at Beacon, a blur of light and color that stuck out like a sore thumb among other, darker images.

The Grimm let her have that. If what she'd realized in the cavern was true, then everything that had ever happened to her, her very existence, was dependent on the fact that they had decided not to wipe out humanity entirely. If she were to keep living for those golden moments, and she wanted to, more than she'd ever wanted anything, that would depend on the monsters they understood so much less than they'd thought. It would depend on the Grimm deciding not to slaughter them... yet.

How could she just ignore that? Ignore the fact that the creatures of darkness were fully capable of overwhelming all their defenses the moment they chose? Ignore how, as far as she could see, they were likely keeping people alive for their own purpose? Ignore the simmering suspicions in the back of her mind, each more vile than the next, of what that purpose might be?

Livestock. That had been what she'd assumed. But Grimm didn't eat, as far as anyone could tell. Or, rather, they did—they just didn't need to, not for survival. Was it all a game? The monsters seemed to take some kind of sick pleasure in ripping people apart. Perhaps all Hunters were really doing was playing right into their hands, serving themselves up on silver platters for the Grimm to pick them apart piece by piece.

Grimacing, she reaching up to rub her eyes. No. It didn't matter, it didn't. Whatever the Grimm were doing, they were going to get out of this cave and then... well, then she could live her life. Whatever that meant.

Blake let her shoulders slump. She couldn't do this. Unconditional positivity always seemed to come so easily to her teammates—or, at least, to Ruby and Yang. Maybe Weiss wasn't taking everything quite so in stride as she seemed to be, or maybe it really was just Blake.

Her thoughts kept churning unstoppably. What if the Grimm weren't leaving people alive to toy with them? Maybe they simply didn't care. Humanity was just a nuisance, one they swatted away like a horde of persistent flies and, afterwards, thought about very little. That was worse, somehow. So much worse.

Maybe her breathing had hitched, or her distress had shown on her face. Either way, Yang shot Blake a concerned look. The message was obvious—Are you okay?—but she just mustered a smile and nodded. She wanted to talk about this, she was starting to think she needed to. But this was tormenting her, and she shouldn't, she wouldn't force it on her teammates as well. Not when they finally seemed to be recovering.

Instead, she forced herself to listen. Pyrrha had been talking, though the only piece of conversation she managed to comprehend was her last word, comrades. It was a nice word, though as completely out of context as it was, Blake felt next to nothing.

Weiss, who had been paying better attention, smiled. "I like the thought of fighting beside friends," she admitted.

"It definitely makes things feel more fun," Yang agreed cheerfully. "And less pointless."

Weiss shook her head in bemusement. "I wouldn't call it fun, but it's far better than letting them win."

Nodding emphatically, Yang pumped her fist in the air. "Heck yeah! I'm gonna make it my personal mission to figure out a way to tie those stupid Spiders' legs in knots!"

"Exactly!" Weiss exhaled, and her expression sharpened. "If they're going to devour civilization as we know it," she declared, "then they'd better choke on it."

Blake barked out a startled laugh. "So... spite," she observed. Weiss flushed.

"Not exactly," she huffed. "I hate the idea of all this being easy for them. Of everything we ever built just disappearing without a trace. So, if they're going to be all that's left... we leave a mark. On them."

Yang cracked her knuckles. "Sign me up!"

There was a bark of laughter, from somewhere behind them. Blake turned sharply, only to see Russel Thrush of all people looking over at them. His shoulders were shaking with mirth, and his expression was something between admiring and exasperated.

"What?" Weiss snapped.

"You guys really are crazy," he decided. "Absolutely batshit, suicidal morons." There was a wry smile on his face, but Blake found that she was still annoyed.

"You're more than welcome to stay out of it," she pointed out, a little heat leeching into her voice.

Russel shook his head, still chuckling. "That wasn't an insult," he said. "That was... I don't even know. Inspirationally insane, I guess."

"Why, thank you," Weiss drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm.

He frowned at her. "What? Maybe I don't agree with you, but I can respect it."

"Respect." Pyrrha raised an eyebrow at him. "That doesn't seem like your strong suit."

"Nope!" He spread his arms and shrugged. "And it'll be a cold day in hell when I die for honor or pride or whatever."

By now, Jaune and the rest of team JNPR had also turned around and were shooting disapproving looks at Russel. He either didn't notice, or didn't care.

"Wanna know what I think?"

"No," Blake said instantly.

"Fuck it, right?" Russel gestured at the cave around them. "Why get ourselves killed to fight Grimm, when they don't even die? Better to live as well as we can, forget the rest of it. Enjoy what we have, or whatever."

"Does that mean you're not coming back to the academy next year?" Yang asked. "Because that'd be great."

"Of course I am," he snapped. Then he sighed. "Look, it's not like people become hunters because they want to live short painful lives. We all have our reasons for being here, and mine isn't conditional on me getting to save the world." And with that, he turned away again.

Blake scowled at him, but out of the corner of her eye she noticed that Ren was wearing a thoughtful expression. She turned to face him, and he smiled.

"He was rather rude," he said, "but I do agree with some of the sentiment." Then he blinked, apparently alarmed, as he suddenly received the entire group's undivided attention.

"How do you mean?" Jaune asked, frowning.

Ren paused, furrowing his brow. "Well... I don't personally think it matters that much, that the Grimm are undying."

"What?!" cried several voices at once, Blake among them. Ren smiled, raising his hands in a placating gesture.

"That is, I was always under the impression that humanity's continued existence on Remnant was... tenuous at best. Nothing lasts forever, after all. Now I know that the end might be nearer than I had thought, but we still have hundreds of years at least before we run out of Dust. I won't be alive then."

"So it just doesn't matter?" Ruby blurted, incredulous.

"I never said that. I only mean that... well, I see no reason to despair. If we can do something, we will do it—and if we can't, we will still live our lives."

Nora grinned. "Yeah! And if this means we have less time, we're just gonna have to be awesome enough to make up for it!"

"That's the spirit!" Yang cheered. Ruby reached across their little circle and high-fived Nora. Even Weiss was smiling, seemingly against her will.

Blake curled into herself. Her head and heart were both pounding, and for a moment she wanted to just blurt it out. Tell them what they were, what everyone was, that the Grimm were leaving them alive. Then the urge passed, and she was left feeling sick and twisted.

For several minutes, her friends chatted animatedly about hope, courage, and the future. It sounded hollow and muted to her, and she was glad when they rose and recollected their things. Sky and Dove returned from their post further down the tunnel—though why they'd bothered was beyond her, since no one had been sleeping and a watch was entirely unnecessary. Then again, she'd seen Jaune and Pyrrha do something similar before—it was probably just a chance to have a somewhat private conversation.

As team RWBY passed the two 'watchmen,' Blake locked gazes with Sky, just for a second. He looked... well, terrible. There were deep, red-rimmed bags under his eyes, and what seemed like tear-tracks on his cheeks. His eyes were shadowed, his movements twitchy. It was clear he was reacting to their situation just as badly, if not worse, than Blake was. He wasn't like her team or JNPR—for him, the damage was already done. Something like an idea started forming in the back of her mind, but then the moment passed and she found herself meandering down the tunnel once again, staring listlessly into the darkness ahead.

They went on like that a long time, moving in silence. The cave narrowed, then widened, then narrowed again. It twisted left and right, growing steeper and then leveling off. Blake didn't even notice the first web, not until she blundered right into it. One minute she was walking—stumbling, really, the lack of sleep was starting to catch up with her—and the next there was something sticky in her eyes, blinding her.

For a moment she floundered, clawing uselessly at her face. Then there were steadying hands on her shoulders, and she managed to calm herself down. From there, it was just a matter of grabbing at the silk and pulling, anchoring it on her clothes so that she could get her hands free and repeat. Over and over, until her eyes were uncovered.

When she finally blinked the blurriness from her vision, she saw her partner hovering anxiously over her shoulder. Blake managed a shaky thumbs-up. There were a lot shocked and worried faces around her—apparently, the others hadn't seen the trap either. Though, that was probably because it was black silk against the dark background of the cave wall. She should have been able to see it. Would have, if she hadn't been distracted.

Their group was reluctant to keep going, after that. They weren't dumb. They knew there were Spiders up ahead, just as they knew they were going to get into another fight. Everything about this part of the tunnel screamed danger. Unfortunately, they didn't have a choice—this was the only way out.

It soon became clear that Yang, with her blunted gauntlets that were entirely incapable of slashing through silk, was not the best choice to lead. Weiss and Ruby pulled ahead of her and Blake, with the latter making quick work of every web that had the misfortune to cross her path.

Not even a quarter of an hour later—Blake guessed, it was hard to know for certain—Weiss tripped and would have fallen face-first into another bit of silk if Ruby hadn't intervened, grabbing hold of her partner by the elbow and hauling her upright. It took a moment to free her foot. This web was thicker than the one Blake had walked through earlier.

After that, little accidents became commonplace. Poor Jaune nearly hanged himself on a particularly dense patch of webbing after tripping down an incline, and had to be rescued by Ren. Nora made an ill-fated attempt to smash her way free when she stumbled into one of the silk-coated walls. Even team CRDL, who had all eight of their classmates ahead of them to find the more obvious traps, were often snagged and forced to cut one another loose.

It got to the point where the sudden feeling of arrested momentum became more tedious than terrifying. Her heart stopped beating in her throat every time she tripped. She no longer expected a Spider to come crawling out of every shadow, fangs poised to strike. The longer they walked, the less tense she became. The less tense she became, the more her body ached with exhaustion and hunger. Blake had gone without food before, but once again, her time at Beacon had made her soft. She could barely think straight without being reminded over and over of the hollow pangs in her gut, and sometimes she tripped because she was struggling to stay awake rather than because she'd been snagged by the silk.

Her eyes drifted closed, and for a few steps she stumbled along, barely conscious. Then she opened them again, just in time to swerve around a curtain of dark web. As soon as she passed it, her eyelids started to droop again. She found herself half-dreaming that she was back at Beacon, drifting despondently back to their dorm after a grueling lecture in Port's class. She could almost hear his voice—"Why, when I was a young man I never tripped over a web in my life, I wore high-heeled boots in order to—"

Blake lurched, bumping into Yang as her knees buckled under her. Crying out in alarm, her partner grabbed her shoulders and steadied her. She snapped awake.

"You okay?" Yang asked, brow furrowing in concern. Blake nodded feverishly.

"Fine. Just tired."

"We're all tired," Cardin snarled at her. "Let's get the fuck out of here already."

Yang turned on him, hair shimmering. The cavern wall behind her was bending and wavering in a small heat haze. Blake grabbed her arm. "Leave it," she mumbled.

Her head was pounding. A low clicking noise droned against the back of her skull, beating in time with her heart. She tried to rub the pain away, only to meet her forehead. Massaging at the space between her eyebrows did absolutely nothing—if anything, the noise felt louder.

Blake looked up reflexively, her groggy mind registering that something wasn't right. There was nothing there, just folds of silk and rough grey stone. She shook herself, forcing her feet to move in the same general direction as Yang. Her partner was still livid, casting incandescent glares over her shoulder every other step. Cardin sneered defiantly at her from behind an exasperated Dove.

Frustrated, Blake tried to step between them. Her foot caught on an outcropping of stone, and she nearly fell flat on her face. It was only her innate balance that kept her upright, arms flying out to her sides to steady her as she swayed drunkenly back and forth. She felt almost as bad as she had about a month ago, when their entire team had pulled an all-nighter to study for an upcoming test. Blake suspected Weiss hadn't really needed to be up quite that late, but had stayed awake out of solidarity—that, or she'd decided she wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. Probably wise. One didn't mix Ruby and energy drinks and still expect a solid night's rest.

A half-smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she righted herself, wincing. Yang was still giving her that look, like she was expecting Blake to brain herself on the floor any second now. Not entirely unwarranted, if she were honest. The clicking had gotten faster, and every heartbeat sent jagged spikes of pain through her skull. She did not have the energy for this.

"I'm fine," Blake grumbled.

"Are you sure? I mean, I know the stone's kind of hard to sleep on, but I bet we could figure something out. Ruby would probably lend you her cloak if you asked."

Blake would never dream of asking that, ever, especially since the unyielding stone had been at worst a minor inconvenience. She just shook her head, finally giving in to temptation and placing her hands over her feline ears. The phantom noise went silent. Blake froze.

"Wha—" Yang started to ask. Suddenly a terrific crack rent the air, and everyone stumbled as the ground shook beneath them.

"Cave-in!" Sky screamed out in panic. He was, unfortunately, wrong.

A massive chunk of the wall buckled inward. Bits of stone tore free of the few scraps of webbing still holding them together and shattered on the ground. A few rock splinters hit her bare shoulders. They bounced harmlessly off of her skin, but she felt the drain on her aura immediately. It was too weak, she hadn't slept well enough to fully restore it.

She dropped into a crouch, flinging one hand across her face to shield her eyes. With the other, she fumbled for Gambol Shroud. She'd heard clicking—a first it had seemed like another symptom of her migraine, but it could just as easily have been footsteps.

When she finally dared look at the cave wall, she saw that it had vanished entirely. What was left of it was scattered across the floor in pieces, revealing another long, dark tunnel that had once been entirely separate from the one they were in. A bone mask hovered in its mouth, half-shrouded in shadow.

Blake couldn't help but boggle at the Spider's sheer size. It's long, angular legs had been squeezed underneath it as it crouched inside a passage at least ten feet in diameter. The monster squirmed uncomfortably, looking for all the world like a disgruntled squirrel midway through the sudden realization that it was now too fat to leave its burrow. Then its forelegs punched through into empty air and slammed into the opposite end of the cave. Bulging red eyes the size of her face blinked in annoyance, and at last it managed to maneuver its head through the opening it had made. The tunnel they were standing in, Blake realized dimly, was rather a lot larger than the one it had come from.

Her body was moving before her brain had time to catch up. Pure adrenaline shot through her, washing away some of her exhaustion. She lashed out with Gambol Shroud, grinning as the gun went off and sent the bladed end spinning around toward the monster's eyes. It hissed resentfully, jerking its head so that her weapon bounced off its mask.

Yang charged, hair flickering and fists poised to strike. Ruby was already there, though she was hammering off shots with her rifle rather than trying to engage the Spider in melee—Blake couldn't blame her. Weiss had backed off slightly and was grimacing at the hilt of her sword. She, too, was reluctant to come within biting distance, but she was low on ammunition and might not have a choice.

Behind them, Jaune and Sky both took up positions with their scrolls, casting an eerie blue glow over the Grimm as it scrabbled for purchase on the cave floor. It was still stuck, and getting more and more irritated by the second. One of its legs lashed out, and Blake was forced into a sloppy somersault to avoid being clotheslined. Her head spun, even when she had gotten to her feet again.

Fuming now, the Spider finally lurched forward into the cavern, unfolding like a titanic and malevolent fan. Its pitch-black legs slammed into the walls, floor, and ceiling alike, leaving the monster perched in the center of the tunnel, hissing and spitting in fury.

Blake backed up a step reflexively, and swore when she realized that she'd stepped in another of the webs. Black silk was suddenly everywhere, hemming them in as they lined up to face the monster. She struggled to free herself, yanking on her foot and coming down hard on one knee when she finally tore herself loose. With a grunt, she forced herself back to her feet. Her pistol snapped up, and she fired a full clip into the Grimm's face.

It didn't so much as flinch. Instead it scuttled forward, rotating midair until it was upside-down and snarling. Ruby and Weiss retreated, the former punctuating each step with a gunshot and the latter finally letting loose a burst of ice on the Grimm's legs and pinning it in place.

For a moment, the monster just stared at her. It looked almost offended. Then it squealed, rage and indignation mixing as it lunged. Weiss backpedaled, skimming across a line of glyphs. Yang called out a warning, and at the last second she darted to her left, dodging one of the webs.

Pyrrha spun into the fray from somewhere behind them, javelin clashing against the Spiders' armored forelegs. It glared at her, suddenly shifting its attention. Massive fangs dug into the ground where her feet had been mere heartbeats before, but her only response was to bury her weapon into the nearest vulnerable spot she could find. When in doubt, go for the eyes.

The rest of team JNPR—minus Jaune, who was busy making sure they didn't have to do any of this blind—was right behind her. Nora, limited by the fact that she couldn't use her grenades without bringing the whole cave down on top of them, contented herself with aiming bone-shattering blows at the Spider's thin legs. It was almost impossibly agile, dancing in place with its slender limbs slipping in and out of her reach, always bringing it closer. Ren slid underneath the monster and slashed at its belly. He was nearly impaled on one long fang, and had to retreat and start shooting instead. Seconds later, his gun clicked empty. He didn't reload.

With a bloodthirsty howl, Cardin charged forward with his mace held over his head. The ordeal of the past few days had done absolutely nothing to improve his already abysmal speed, and his blows were neatly avoided. Dove had more luck—he came in swinging and physically interposed himself between the Spider and the rest of their group, even going so far as to catch one of its legs on his gauntlets. Its feet, Blake noticed, were tipped with wicked hooked claws, in a rather stunning example of the inherent unfairness of the universe.

It advanced like a glacier—slowly, yet inexorably. In theory, moving the battle back down the tunnel was to the monster's disadvantage. Blake could remember having to duck a few times on their way here, meaning the cave would eventually narrow too much for it to fit. But, in practice, with each step backward they had to avoid the webs.

Blake was probing the creature's armored body for weak spots, taking care to keep Gambol Shroud's ribbon from tangling on its legs, when all of a sudden there was a scream and half the light when sideways. She risked a glance over her shoulder, and caught a glimpse of Sky flailing helplessly where he was trapped against a wall of silk.

Russel stopped hacking at the monster's mask and dropped back to help his teammate. Even as he began to cut Sky loose, Blake knew it was going to take too long. She grimaced, placing herself between them and it, resolving to keep fighting as long as she could. The Grimm's red eyes were still fixated on Pyrrha as she retreated with liquid grace, stepping around bits of silk without even looking. It seemed vaguely affronted by that.

Sky screamed again as the Spider cocked its head, sizing up its opposition, and lunged. He wasn't anywhere near the line of fire, in fact he was still several dozen feet away. Pyrrha dropped to the ground as one of its slender legs whistled through the space where her head had been, while Cardin ducked a moment too late and was launched into the stone wall with a grunt. Dove managed to catch the blow on his sword, though he skidded back several feet from the force of it.

Blake, unprepared for the sudden attack, leaped desperately backwards as another of the Spider's legs shot toward her. A shadow clone died ignobly, crumpling to dust with a hooked claw through its chest—and Blake herself landed on her back foot, reeling as her boot stuck fast to the ground. Her eyes widened in sudden horror, and she began to tip backward.

In an instant, a white bone mask was in front of her. It took up the whole of her vision, and two massive fangs shot toward her unprotected abdomen. Blake would not be poisoned—she'd be impaled. The force of the strike would be enormous, she could already sense the momentum behind it, a sort of intuitive terror that ran all the way up and down her spine. With the last bit of strength in her, she threw herself away from the oncoming attack. Her back met more silk.

Not even a full yard away from her face, a pale white glyph sprang into being. The Spider met it head-on, fangs crashing into it with the force of a runaway train. Blake stared, realizing very suddenly how fragile the barrier looked, paper-thin and translucent. It seemed insane that it should stand up to so much force.

It didn't. The glyph failed a second later, and somewhere in the dark Blake heard a body hitting the floor with a solid thump. But then, it hadn't needed to stop the attack—it just needed to slow it down.

Dove flung himself in front of her even as the barrier was breaking, planting his feet and shoving his sword against the fangs as though they were a pair of blades. He shouted something, probably a curse, and began to slide. The metal in his boots screamed as they scraped against the stone floor, and then he crashed into her.

Blake's forehead bounced off the back of his armor with a clang, and then the monster was gnashing its teeth in Dove's face. He yelped, gave a final shove, and overbalanced the pair of them. The web supporting them tore loose, and they went down in a tangle of limbs and a clatter of steel. Her head hit the ground, and this time her aura failed and stars exploded into her field of vision.

It was hard to see with Dove half on top of her, half stuck to her, but she knew the Spider was still coming. Gambol Shroud flew from her hand, spinning end over end as she hurled it blind. Someone, she couldn't tell who, grabbed the ribbon and pulled, and both she and Dove were sent skidding across the cavern floor. The Grimm's lunge finally ended as it slammed into a pillar of stone and shattered it.

Blake forced herself upright even as the world spun dizzily around her. She lurched, nearly threw up, and found herself leaning against Nora's arm—she must have been the one who'd caught the other end of Gambol Shroud. Reaching down, Blake gave Dove a hand up to his feet. One of his legs buckled, making him stumble. His hair, usually immaculate, was full of silk and sticking up in all directions, but he managed a sage nod. She returned it, torn between gratitude and intense discomfort.

The Grimm, livid from having missed its prey, emerged from the cloud of dust and stone shards with its eyes glowing with rage. With a low, dry hiss, it went skittering across the cavern floor, legs lashing out in all directions. Cardin caught a glancing blow to the shoulder and careened into the wall again, howling curses. Weiss, who had been trying to drag herself upright with her rapier, threw herself sideways to avoid the blow. Blake could actually hear her head hit the ground as she landed, and winced in sympathy.

Despite having been under fire from all twelve of them from the moment it had appeared, the Spider seemed none the worse for the wear. It had weathered gunshots to the eyes, vicious slashes to the undersides of its many knees, and even a head-on collision with a stone pillar at top speed, all without so much as slowing down. Usually, this was when one of their team leaders would start getting creative.

Blake wanted to help, and was wracking her brain for something they could do to get around how absurdly tough this creature was, but her thoughts felt as though they were moving through molasses. Nothing occurred to her, and before she could really consider the problem she was forced back into motion. Another long, slender leg smashed into her, slaughtering one of her clones. She dodged sideways and threw Gambol Shroud.

Then Dove stumbled, catching himself on the wall with a grunt. Blake could see him swaying where he stood. She stepped very deliberately in front of him. There was no way in hell she was going to stay indebted to him any longer than she had to. The Grimm's head swiveled toward them, though she couldn't tell whether it was looking at her or Dove. Its fangs clicked together irritably as it sized them up.

Blake had seen jumping spiders before, and this Grimm wasn't one. It was too big to move as quickly as they did, and its legs were far too long and thin. And yet, rather than running towards them as Blake had expected, it leaped.

She couldn't tell how. She only saw its front legs extending like a quartet of long black spears, and then it was flying. Her brain, already sluggish from hunger and exhaustion, couldn't process the sight in front of her in time. She felt something smash into her, yelped, and was borne to the floor.

Her head, for the third time in as many minutes, cracked against the floor, though she barely noticed. It was her shoulder that demanded her attention. Something hot was soaking into her sleeve, and when she tried to sit up she nearly blacked out. The Spider's face loomed over her, eyes bulging in anticipation.

Kicking out in blind desperation, Blake felt her boot connect with one of the foot-long fangs that were bearing down on her. The Grimm hissed in annoyance. That meant it opened its jaws, just as Blake had hoped. So, with her free arm, she shoved Gambol Shroud down its throat. Well, into its mouth anyway—she wasn't sure if spiders had throats in the conventional sense.

And then, there was noise. Her ears folded back reflexively as the Grimm howled in agony and shook its head like a dog. It was trying to rid itself of the blade, but Blake wasn't done. She gave the ribbon a sharp tug, and fired a round from where Gambol Shroud was still lodged in the monster's mouth. Then, finally, it backed away. Its clawed foot slid free of her arm with a sickening grinding sound. Her vision blurred. Pure terror forced her to her feet, but the world was spinning and all she really managed to make out was that now, it was the Grimm that was retreating.

When her eyes came back into focus, she saw Yang first. It was hard not to, considering she was on fire. Her fists were flying, beating out an irregular rhythm on the Grimm's bone mask. The monster flailed at her, but was forced to back away as shot after shot detonated right in its face. If the bullets weren't hurting it, the light of the flames certainly was.

Ruby was with Yang, covering any possible gaps in her defense. Weiss had positioned herself a few paces back, and was striking only when the Spider was pained or disoriented. The way her forehead was bleeding was all the explanation Blake needed—she was low on aura from the shattered glyph.

Team JNPR was there, too, with Jaune having stashed his light in one of his pockets once Yang had caught fire. Even Cardin and Russel were taking part in the sudden assault. Dove, on the other hand, hung back. He was bent over, holding the wall for support as he breathed in great gulps. Sky, meanwhile, was still holding his scroll up to illuminate the scene before him. It was, at this point, entirely unnecessary.

Blake grimaced and took a step forward. Her shoulder throbbed in protest, but she forced herself to keep going. It took a moment to find where Gambol Shroud had landed—apparently the Spider had succeeded in shaking the weapon free of its mouth. When she did, she drew the blade and held it shakily in her right arm. Her left dangled uselessly.

She looked up just in time to realize that the sudden coordination hadn't been an accident. As if responding to some signal she couldn't see, Ruby called out, "Now!" Weiss fumbled with her rapier, pulled free one of the Dust compartments, and tossed it to Yang.

The Spider eyed her with newfound suspicion and began backpedaling. "No you don't," Yang growled, darting forward and grabbing hold of the edge of its mask. "Come here!"

Russel ducked one of its flailing legs, rolled forward, and stabbed his left dagger into the cave wall. Ice spread from the point of impact, trapping two of the monster's feet. It struggled, nearly taking the boy's head off with another of its clawed feet before he fell back behind Cardin.

Blake caught the gist of the plan as it was unfolding, and leapt forward with the aid of a shadow clone. Gambol Shroud flew through the air and wrapped around one of the monster's legs. "Nora!" she called out. With a manic salute, Nora grabbed hold of Gambol shroud's ribbon and heaved, yanking its foot out from under it.

Within moments, the monster was frozen to the wall by two legs, and another was caught in Nora's grip. It tried to rear back onto its hind feet, but couldn't keep its balance. Ruby darted in close and fired point-blank into one of its eyes, making it screech in pain. That was its undoing—the moment it opened its mouth Yang stepped forward and shoved the Dust cylinder inside.

Dozens of red eyes widened almost comically. Then, the Grimm burst into bits of bone plating and strings of sticky black gore. Ruby, Yang, and Pyrrha were all coated from head to foot, and an errant arc of electricity—apparently it had been lightning Dust—blasted Jaune off his feet.

And then, there was silence. Dark smoke dissipated into the air, and Blake watched it go with a sick feeling in her gut. How long would it take before the Grimm was back—a few years? Months? Days? Would it emerge from that vile lake the second all its essence had returned, pulling itself free and wandering back to its old hunting grounds without a second thought? Or maybe it would be like the smaller Spiders they'd fought, and any one of them could reach that same incredible size, given time.

Blake took a step forward and gasped. White-hot agony spread from her shoulder to her elbow and sent pins and needles running all the way down to the tips of her fingers. Dazed, she put out her good arm to balance herself as the world spun around her. She fell to her knees with a grunt.

Several voices called her name in unison, and then Yang was at her side, gingerly putting pressure on the wound. Blake winced, but bore the fussing with as much grace as she could muster. Dove wordlessly handed her partner the roll of bandages—they'd run out of the disinfectant—and soon enough her arm was bound in clean white linen.

"We should take a break," Ruby said, fidgeting with her cape.

Blake shook her head, trying to stand. Her vision swam, and she nearly fell flat on her face. "Can't," she groaned. "There might be more of them."

"Yeah, I vote we get the fuck out of here," Russel agreed. "The sooner we're back at Beacon, the sooner we can get actual medical treatment."

"No one asked you," Yang snarled. Then she turned back to Blake, all anger draining from her expression. "Are you sure?"

She considered nodding, then decided against it. Throwing up wouldn't help her case much. Instead she just replied, "Yes."

Yang helped her to her feet, and when Blake tried to protest she just slung her good arm over her shoulder and started walking. They'd been pushed back quite far—it took several minutes before they passed the gaping hole the Spider had come from.

In near-perfect unison, all twelve of them glanced at the opening with varying levels of unease, mistrust, and outright terror. Then, with as much speed as they could muster with Dove limping and Blake hanging off of Yang, they hurried past it. Even hours later, Sky still turned at least once every few minutes, like clockwork, to scan the tunnel behind them—waiting, perhaps, for the monster to return from the dead.