It could have been two days or it could have been two weeks. Every second seems to stretch on impossibly long up this wall at the edge of the world.

Ruby has lost count of how many times they have pushed the Husks back, barely holding the pitiful defense composed of two exhausted Hunters. She is beginning to wonder whether they killed any of their enemies. It doesn't feel like she has ever stopped swinging her scythe, but the rank of featureless monsters hasn't dwindled even a little.

It is decided at the beginning of the battle that they should avoid drawing too much from either source of their power. While Grimmilization is effective for destruction, it is also more prone to tip the balance within oneself.

On the other hand, although Semblance is by comparison much more stable, it isn't out of the realm of possibilities to lose one's mind to the light either. In fact, more heroes have lost themselves to their Semblance than to Grimmilization.

Watching the never-ending army, Ruby recalls the tale of Berlik, the Bear Who Forgot He Was a Man. She figures this was how the fallen hero felt, to be lost in a mist, slowly drifting away from reality.

The only thing still anchoring her is the knowledge that she is not fighting alone. Her mentor is still with her, even if sometimes she forgets he is standing right next to her. She becomes so lost in her internal struggles that she doesn't see Ozpin approach, or her sight sets on something so faraway she sees right past him.

And he won't be the only one. More will be coming - the reinforcement Professor Goodwitch promised, and her team.

She doesn't want them to experience this. This madness - this slow, deathless limbo. It is more than what anyone ought to experience. Vaguely she wonders whether this is why none of the Guardians last long at the border. But they need help, any help. They cannot fight this fight by themselves and more than their own life is at stake.

She wonders if this is where it happened. It looks exactly like what she had heard so many times before. But then again, so is the rest of the mesa that stretches on and on until they become one with the shadow of the mountains.

"Ruby." Ozpin is shaking her shoulder. She didn't realize she has drifted off. "Hang in there."

He has taken to calling her by her first name because it saves time.

She pinches herself, hard, to drive away all the drowsiness.

"Sorry." She mumbles. The voice comes out hoarser than she expects. "I must have nodded off."

"I understand." Ozpin replies. His voice is still smooth, but lacking its normal reassuring sturdiness.

They have both been worn thin. Not just by the constant battle, but something much more fundamental. It drains them of their strength, wits, and will.

Ozpin slides down against the low wall, until he slumps beside he with a thud.

"What did you dream about?" He asks.

Ruby is slow to reply, partially because she wonders whether it is anything worth talking about, and partially because the words refuse to form cohesively.

"I don't remember." She says at last. "I think something to do with a forest."

Ozpin 's gaze sharpens, but not in surprise. His lips press together in a thin line, between anger and anguish. The expression startles Ruby.

"It's just a stupid dream." She says, suddenly very awake from embarrassment. "Forget it."

"I don't think it's stupid." Ozpin says, slowly, deliberately. "Or simply a dream."

Ruby stares at him in bewilderment. She knows him to be a knowledgeable man, often delivering cryptic messages when it suits him. But surely - surely he cannot be suggesting her dream is real? Is the mighty headmaster beginning to lose it under the pressure of their impending doom?

Before she can tuck away the thoughts, Ozpin speaks again.

"What color is the forest you saw?"

"It's…" She shakes her head. "Why does it matter?"

"Gray, isn't it?"

"I-" The words catch. She has a sudden, strange feeling that they are no longer atop the wall, but somewhere much more frightening. "I guess so? Why?"

Ozpin does not seem to care for her answer, nor her question.

"It isn't, really." He says. "You see it as gray simply because our mind cannot comprehend the shade of void."

"I don't understand."

"You don't have to. Not quite yet."

He puts a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently like someone expressing their condolence at a funeral. It is forebodingly familiar. She falls into a trance like a rabbit caught in a wolf's mouth. Images from the dawn of her memory fleet past like the last of autumn leaves. But they slip past her comprehension. Voices shout or speak or call to her from somewhere unreachable. Through it all, she can only grasp one scene clearly.

It was the day before they embarked on the journey to the border, a day that feels like years ago. Weiss stood just beyond her reach, speaking quietly as her namesake scatter around them.

Ruby can almost feel frozen breeze on her cheek, and taste the bittersweet ache of home.

Don't get hurt, okay? I'll be waiting for your return.

Weiss didn't say that, of course. She said something similar - but never had she spoken so gently and longingly in Ruby's presence. Or anyone's, for that matter. She cares about them in her own way. She expresses her concerns more timidly, more reservedly. She cares - Ruby knows that, and that knowledge alone is more than enough.

So what is this sorrow the nearly crushes her?

Ozpin lifts his hand, and the images disappear. It is mere seconds, but the grief might as well have trapped her on this wall for a lifetime.

"Ah." The headmaster says. "The time has come."

Ruby blinks, and looks out towards where he is facing.

At first, she thinks she must still be dreaming, and this is part of the nightmare. But then she sees their faces, or lack thereof. They have paused their advance. All of them looking up to the wall as if listening to a great call. The King Beyond the Wall is making its way through the orderless ranks, slowly but surely, to the front. To the wall that repels their kind.

When it reaches the wall, the battle will begin. Regardless of whether they are ready or not.

Ozpin looks on quietly, like he has long since accepted his fate. What frightens Ruby, however, is that she doesn't think it means death. She dreads to know to whom her mentor mourns.

"They say the Husks are soulless." He sighs like he is reciting a poem. "And that is why they do not die - they simply disappear."

"Professor?"

"We taught you that Husks are different from us. That they are monsters that slaughter our families and destroy our cities. Some of you asked how they came to be, and why they sought to destroy civilization."

He reaches into his pocket, producing a silver watch from his vest. There are words engraved on its cover. Words too weathered to be read from this distance.

"We did not teach you the whole truth. It is a difficult concept to put into words, sure, and more likely than not any attempt would cause confusion. We simplified the truth because it is easier, to protect ourselves and everybody else. Nevertheless, it doesn't change the fact that, in a way, we lied."

"What is the truth, then?"

Ozpin closes the pocket watch in his palm, and presses it firmly into Ruby's hands.

"Don't you already know?"

Ruby looks down to her fist. She cannot bring herself to open her palm. To look at the engraving. The gears clicked silently but unmistakably, one teeth catching onto another, dragging the mechanism forward. Steady, unrelenting, impartial. The circle spins round and round, without beginning or end.

She does know. She realizes. They are lost. Not the type whispered by black-clad funeral-goers in a rainy afternoon. Truly lost. They see neither light nor darkness, only an eternity of void whom they serve as their master. They have nothing. Fear, love, hatred, or desire. They kill because that is how they fill the void. They consume, because it is their nature, just like the nature of fire is to burn.

That may be so. But her nature is to fight. To protect.

"Is there nothing we can do?"

Ozpin squares his jaw, like he can't decide whether he is more proud or angry with her.

"There is one way." His eyes glimmer. But she wonder what exactly is reflected. "Send it back whence it comes."

Ruby isn't sure what he meant by that, but her stomach sinks with those words. She isn't afraid of death, yet…

She looks towards the gathering army again.

The Husks are close. Too close to start evacuating the five hundred innocent lives in the village behind them. And it isn't just the one village. There are more along the country road, leading all the way to the heart of the kingdom. Thousands, maybe millions, will die before the King and its army can be stopped.

Ruby turns back, finally seeing the ragged man Ozpin has become.

The Watcher observes it all.

The turmoil of mortals. Misplaced trust and false hope. Meaningless sacrifice playing prelude to despair. The cycle repeats time and again. All across the worlds.

But this story - the Watcher turns from the fragile figures on the wall to the airship speeding towards the border - this story was not playing out as it should. It diverged from the script. And it is because of that girl. The girl that shouldn't be.

It doesn't matter. It shouldn't matter. For every choice in every world, a new storyline comes to life. The possibilities are infinite, until some forces determines which one is the true path, and everything collapse into one singular point. The Watcher has come to know this law quite intricately, and has thus become less troubled by any development, however disturbing they may be.

But this girl is different. This girl is…

The airship touches down in the center of the village. Three young women dart out from the rear.

The Watcher looks on.

"He suggested what?"

"Weiss, Weiss, calm down." Ruby flails her arms in a desperate attempt to quiet her partner. "Yang's going to hear you."

"That's the idea." Weiss huffs. "I'm certain Blake can hear every word we say, anyway."

Ruby glances across the room to the Faunus, who stands next to her sister as they stand guard by an embrasure. Her expression betrays nothing.

"I didn't agree to it. Right?" Ruby tries to keep the annoyance out of her voice. "Everything's fine!"

"Everything is not fine." Weiss jeers, nostril flaring with indignation. "To even suggest such a thing - ugh, I can't believe him. Does he want to get both of you killed?"

Ruby flinches. She wants to say that there are worse fate than death. That perhaps if Weiss had looked at the King - had felt the hollowness - she would know. But she holds her tongue and simply fidgeted.

It isn't just the experience that unnerves. She hasn't told anyone about the voice yet. About the horrible certainty it brings. This situation is somehow her fault, and she should take responsibility of it no matter the cost.

In that regard, the risk of what Ozpin proposes doesn't sound so bad after all. If a fifty-fifty like her can help them avert this crisis, she is compelled to try. It doesn't matter she has never heard of anyone who could wield the power of both traits at the same time. It doesn't even matter that it will likely destroy both her body and soul. It doesn't matter whether this is what happened to-

"Ruby."

"Huh?"

Before she comprehends what's happening, Ruby finds herself staring right into Weiss' cerulean eyes. They are harsh as Atleasian winter. Bright with anger. And afraid.

"Do not," Weiss enuciates each word as she holds Ruby's face in her palms. Her voice is calm, but it burns the way ice burns. "Even consider it. Not if the situation becomes dire. Not if we are facing imminent death. Not ever."

It is illogical. It makes no sense at all. She cannot stand idly by if any of them is in danger. That is not what she has been trained to do. That is not what she wants to do.

"Risking your live is one thing." Weiss says. "But none of us can be saved if you go over."

Ruby blinks, bewildered. Weiss did not mean they cannot take her down if worst comes worst. Three full-fledge Huntresses and one of the most powerful warrior are more than enough for that. No. That isn't the reason.

She chokes back tears and covers Weiss' hands with her own.

This isn't how she envisioned it. They should have a long life together, as teammates, as friends, as families. It should have happened years from now, when they least expect the emotions of age catch up with them and forming into heartfelt confessions.

"Do you promise?"

Ruby isn't sure what she wants to do more. Cry or hug her or something else.

So she stands in the comforting presence, weeps soundlessly, and nods.