Wraith

Chapter Thirty Seven

Beta: Smithrooks

Soul Light

Beacon, present day…

Two years after the Fall of Amity.

Pyrrha raised her drink into the air, a sardonic chuckle slipping past her lips. "Happy birthday, Jaune."

No one answered her.

And no one would, because she was alone.

If anyone even remembered that it was Jaune's birthday, then they didn't say. Nor would they, for he was just a memory now. A terrible nightmare come and gone. Some remembered, like RWBY, so lost in their haze of grief and rage. But they only remembered him for Amity, for less than twelve hours of Jaune's life. Not for any of the months they'd been his friend before that.

Where was he now, she wondered at times. The greatest friend that she'd ever had, hell, the only real friend she'd ever had. Was he safe? Happy? Or was he all alone, stuck in the grip of solitude and the weight of his sins?

Ah, but such thoughts led only to madness.

Warmth settled around her shoulders, a soothing feeling slipping into her troubled spirit. She didn't know why or how… but Pyrrha felt her sadness slipping away. It felt like a parent or older sibling, gently guiding her away from the troubling emotions.

That happened sometimes; whenever Pyrrha felt herself growing distressed, it was almost as though the negativity just… left.

And for some reason, she always felt as though it was Jaune that was doing it.

"Heh," Pyrrha whispered into the empty night around her, "still trying to comfort me, silly? One day I'll return the favour."

One day...

Grimmlands, present day…

"Hello," it greeted, "I am the Lord of Hunger."

Salem stared at the tri-coloured form before her; white, bronze and red riddled with innumerable cracks and tears. It was an ugly thing to behold, something misshapen and unnatural. This was Nihilus? The mighty Lord of Hunger that Ozpin and his little armada of fools feared so? It was so terribly broken, so unbelievably damaged… perhaps even more so than herself.

After all the years, after all the aeons of isolation, was this a kindred spirit?

"You stand in the presence of Salem," Watts declared from beside her, "show her respect."

The writhing soul-mass flared brightly, the briefest kaleidoscope of innumerable colours flashing into existence for a moment. "Oh?" it- he laughed, "and who are you to demand this, insect?"

Salem watched in vague amusement as Watts began wailing in agony, the Atlesian man collapsing to the floor and writhing in time to his screams. There was nothing wrong with him physically of course, but Salem was pleased to note that the Lord of Hunger knew enough about the soul to tear one in half without outright killing the victim - and if Watts' screams were anything to go by, Nihilus was also aware of how to draw out the agony to its fullest extent.

It was… refreshing, to see that someone else had come this far. Poor, stupid Ozpin had been making the same wretched mistakes since his first reincarnation - never looking to the abstract, never going beyond the already established paths to power. But this Nihilus, he had apparently tapped into the same well of power that she had so long ago. He couldn't be as strong as she, certainly, but he must be close.

"M-my lady…" Watts begged, "h-help…"

Salem ignored him. "So, my dear Nihilus, who are you?"

The triple-coloured light flickered, the image shifting into something altogether more human in appearance. The image was still hazy around the edges, but… Salem could see this must have been his original form.

Tall, if not for his hunched back and slack posture. Handsome, if not for the the three grisly scars that cleft his face in twain and left his eyes blind and colourless. In his hand a gnarled wooden cane formed to support the image, his hunched-over position making it necessary. And… ah, a prosthetic leg too, just a plain wooden attachment carved to look like a foot. Not even a mechanical prosthetic.

This was obviously just an image, as the body that he'd had during his appearance in Vale and Beacon had apparently crumbled to dust. But this must be what his original form looked like.

"Who am I?" the scarred man asked, utterly unheeding of Watts' continued whimpers. "I am no one. Nothing. All I am is want and desire."

Salem felt something stir in the air, as though something was whispered just beyond the range of perception. "And what," Salem queried, "do you desire?"

Grimmlands, present day…

What did he desire? What a stupid question! She should know better, but the foolish little girl was blind to everything but herself. And for that, he would do as he'd always done.

There was no point now…

But he'd do it anyway.

Nihilus let the mirage of his old body lean forwards, as though to whisper into Salem's ear: "Everything. I want everything to die."

Before him Salem jerked, Nihilus' truest power grasping at her soul. He felt the claws of his spirit clutch at the broken creature, his power eclipsing hers greatly. "How long have you lived now?" he asked the insignificant witch, "ten thousand years? A million? You are tiny compared to me."

Nihilus flexed.

Salem's body burnt away in an instant, ash exploding outwards as her soul was gripped by the might Nihilus forced onto her. She struggled, of course she did, writhing and flailing in agony as she tried to exert her own tiny power onto Nihilus. It was almost amusing.

And really, the mere thought that she could oppose him. Even at her best, she was nothing compared to him.

"NO!" her scream was furious, but underneath the rage Nihilus could feel the fear. "I won't! I won't let you!"

"My life spans millennia, legions have risen to test me." Nihilus ripped Salem's soul in half, the untold torment of the act euphoric to him and agonising to her. "A day, a year, a millennium, it matters not. I hold the patience of stone and the will of stars, your life is nothing compared to me."

Around him, Salem's castle and her little slave Watts ground away into ash under a mere moment's application of Nihilus' power. Salem struggled mightily against him, her fear of dying burning like a lighthouse. Her soul wailed and thrashed about in his all-consuming grip.

"You can't kill me!"the words were like music to him, the panic and surprise delicious. "I can't die, my work isn't finished!"

"Do you know what held you back?" Nihilus tore strips from her ancient soul, taking delight in devouring each shard as the rest of her watched. "You were afraid. You feared dying, even after all they did to you. Even now you shiver in terror. That is your failure. Your striving is insignificant, let your death be the same!"

She screamed something, but whatever it was Nihilus didn't bother listening. Her soul was delicious, almost divine thanks to hold old it was. But for as outstanding a being as she was, she died just like everyone else did.

And in an instant, she was gone.

Everything died in the end.

Into the red and purple darkness of the Grimmlands, Nihilus laughed. It was just so funny, hilarious even. Salem was the 'one' being in all the worlds that even had the barest inkling of what his true power was, but she was always the same. Always biting off more that she could chew, always thinking that she knew all.

She was… wrong.

But the Salem of this world had made for an amusing diversion. Her castle and her minion Watts were dead, but there were the other ones. Should he kill them too, perhaps? What were their names…? Cinder, how he hated her. The one he never met, Hazel. And the empty one, Tyrian. They should die.

Now.

What was one more soul to burn? One more life he could pass onwards… he was a God after all. It was his right to choose.

Reality folded, and Nihilus left.

Nihilus bled into existence before the man that killed his father and sisters, the insane scorpion Faunus not even reacting to his presence. The weakling was off somewhere in the wilds, but that didn't matter. He was about to die.

"Oh?" Tyrian asked, his eyes widening upon seeing the tri-coloured soul of Nihilus before him, "What is this?"

It was an act repeated so many times that the joy taken from it was muted, but Nihilus still felt a sliver of pleasure at ripping the man's soul from his body and eating it. It happened so quickly the mortal didn't even realise he had died.

A pity, he enjoyed it when they struggled.

Oh well, onto the next.

Reality folded, and Nihilus left.

Nihilus bled into existence before Hazel; the man had barely a moment to grunt before he died.

He died because Nihilus willed it. Life was snuffed out because he wanted it.

He didn't bother eating this soul, for it had done no sin against him. Off to the petty little afterlife for Hazel.

What a wonderful world…

Reality folded, and Nihilus left.

Nihilus bled into the world before Cinder, his presence oozing around her like a miasma. The girl clutched and played with the broken armour of his team RWBY, how cute. Had she been planning to recruit him again? Funny. But the time for Nihilus to indulge had passed, and Cinder would die.

There would be no Amity this time. No fall, and no semblance unlocked. Cinder had done much, but she served no purpose now with her master gone.

Or did she...?

The girl was pathetically weak in the grand scheme of things, horribly so when compared to Salem, let alone himself. But compared to the Lord of Betrayal? Now that would be interesting. The little wretch would go along with her plan, invade Beacon and search for her precious artifact that she so coveted, unknowing that her master was gone.

Little Jaune would play at being the hero again, but whether he would win was another matter.

A test then, to see if the Lord of Betrayal was really worth the life he had. If he failed, then Nihilus would try again in a different world, a new one. If he succeeded…

Well, then Nihilus could finally let go.

But for now it was time to return to the wretched betrayer, to offer his poisonous wisdom to the boy in the vague hope that he would listen.

Beacon, present day…

Weiss was dreaming.

She knew she was dreaming.

Because it was just like last time.

"Please, Weiss?"

It was Ruby… but her voice was wrong. Older perhaps, but also… sadder. Like something was weighing her down.

"Speak to him with me again. Please, I tried to get Blake but she said she couldn't do it. That she couldn't face him."

She was shaking. Battle-worn hands quivering at the thought of a one-sided conversation with a once-friend.

It hurt so much, the way the thoughts and voices ate away at her. It was painful, Weiss hated it.

"Okay, Ruby." She would do this. For her… and for him. "I'll be right next to you."

Jaune. She needed Jaune. He could make it go away, make these damn visions leave her alone. Make it stop.

"I'll set up the connection, I'm sure Penny will be happy to see you again."

Where was he? Jaune? She needed him, to make the pain stop. Make the memories die.

"Salutations, Friend-Ruby and Friend-Weiss! It is a pleasure to see you!"

"Good evening, Penny."

"Hi, Penny. Can we speak to Jaune?"

"Certainly! I know Friend-Jaune would be thrilled to have the two of you speak to him on his birthday!"

His… birthday? She'd forgotten that he'd have that, even in the dark little hole that Ironwood kept him in. She felt no pity, not for one such as Jaune. But there was remorse. It would have been far kinder to let him die.

"Happy Birthday, Jaune." Ruby was kind. But she was so cruel…

Forced empathy.

Loneliness. Hatred.

The chains weighed him down; his wrists, ankles and neck bound so tightly that he couldn't move more than a centimetre in any direction. His hair was long and lank, so long that it hung low and covered his face entirely. Skin sallow and pale, deathly from the bitter cold of the far northern Raven's Rock.

He looked like a corpse.

"Hello, Jaune." Weiss wouldn't allow herself to pity him.

Hunger.

"..."

She hated it when Jaune did that. The way his influence clawed at her even a world away.

"I tried to get Blake like I promised," Ruby, why do you do this? Even now? "but she said she was busy. But you know her right? Probably just reading a book or something."

Hatred. Longing. Rage. Regret.

Why did he do it? Why did he persist? What drove him? "Tell me Arc, do you… want to die?"

"Weiss!"

Movement. Blind eyes raised up and staring. At her? Impossible.

HATRED. HUNGER. FURY.

Love.

"Weiss! Don't. I'm sorry Jaune, she didn't mean it like that."

Yes she did.

"Well, we'd better go I suppose. Have a happy birthday, Jaune." Ruby was cruel, her kindness was only his misery.

"Goodbye… Jaune."

Weiss' eyes opened slowly, the raging pain of her headache searing through her mind.

It hurt…

But maybe there was an answer to be found within that pain. These visions, these voices… they were painful. But there were secrets to be found within them.

And maybe even a solution.

...

Beacon, many years ago…

Two years after the Fall of Amity.

Stronger.

A training bot split in two.

Faster.

Another exploded into a shower of sparks.

Better.

The final machine shattered in a flurry of rose petals, Crescent Rose utterly destroying it.

A buzzer rang through the room, jarring Ruby out of her concentration and bringing her to a stop.

"That was good Rubes, keep it up and he won't stand a chance."

Ruby lowered Crescent Rose and turned to face Yang, "What about our aura though?" she asked for what felt like the millionth time in the last two years, "What about his semblance?"

Yang tossed a water bottle to Ruby, the younger girl snatching it out of the air and drinking greedily. "We can deal with that when we come to it. For now we just need to train and get stronger so we can kill him."

Kill. Not beat. Not capture. Not apprehend, or throw in prison. None of that. Yang and Ruby knew what they wanted to do - some may have begun to forget about what happened on that wretched day two years ago, but they hadn't. They would never forget what that monster did to their uncle and father.

They would kill Jaune Arc.

They were heroes, after all. And heroes stopped the monsters.

Beacon, present day…

"Do you know why Miss Goodwitch brought you here, Mr. Arc?"

Not particularly, all he'd done was fight Cardin. A fight he'd won, actually. The woman in question paced around behind Ozpin like prowling predator, her sharp green gaze focussed on him while Jaune sat motionless in his chair. "More or less," Jaune answered eventually.

Ozpin leaned forward over his desk, his eyes peering at Jaune over his small glasses. "Do you? Explain to me what you think the issue is."

What kind of question was that? "I… suppose it was because I kept attacking after Cardin's aura went into the red or something?" And he basically tortured the other boy in front of the entire class, but eh, details.

"I felt your rage. Your anger and hurt… it was delicious."

"No, actually," Ozpin disagreed lightly, "technically you are not guilty of that at all. Mr Winchester's aura never dropped below fifty percent."

What? No, that wasn't possible. Jaune was sure of it, Cardin had been wailing like a dying animal. There was no way his aura had held through that - if it did, then why didn't it protect him? "What?" Jaune stumbled over his words, "No way, the way he was screaming-"

"Oh yes," Ozpin interrupted, "Mr Winchester must have been in truly exquisite agony, but his aura never entered the red zone. The reason you are here, Mr Arc, is because you fought in a way no student can be legally taught to fight."

Jaune stared at the Headmaster, confusion blossoming across his face. "What do you mean?" he asked incredulously, "How can a certain type of fighting be illegal?"

It was Goodwitch that answered this time, her riding crop slapping into her open palm sharply. "Because it's all but useless against the Grimm - it is a technique to kill hunters. And you used it in full view of the entire first year combat class!"

"I quite enjoyed what you did, I found his screams soothing! HahaHA!"

Jaune ignored him.

"I don't understand," Jaune shot back, "I didn't use any special move or ability! I just used Dust!"

"It is not a single technique," Ozpin continued off, much calmer than his employee, "but rather a certain approach to fighting that makes it extremely lethal to hunters in particular. To cause pain, Mr Arc, that is something the aura cannot - and should not - protect one from. It is a skill that was used much during the War, used against aura-users to the point where their agony became too great to bear. Skilled users of the ability were even able to kill hunters without ever taking their aura out of the green zone."

"He says that as though he is guilt-free. As though it is the sins of others… but The Lord of Regret is a killer. He has snuffed out more lives than you by far. Ozpin is a master of the technique."

Jaune ignored the coiling rot of Nihilus' spirit creeping around the room, but the words still stabbed at him. "But… no, that doesn't make sense. How was I using this… skill?"

"Perhaps, Mr Arc, you were not?" Ozpin tilted his head and peered at Jaune closely, his gaze slightly unnerving. "Glynda, it was foolish to allow Mr Arc to participate in your class, especially given what he has told us about his rings."

The woman flinched. "Yes, I see that now. It will not happen again."

"A shame. I wanted to hear more screams."

Jaune was unsurprised; he had wrecked Cardin pretty thoroughly. He didn't exactly feel too bad about it though, he felt worse in knowing that he'd lost control again. That he'd proved Nihilus right and succumbed to the overwhelming power of the rings, just for what? Satisfaction? Petty recompense for wounded pride? Pathetic.

"Mr Winchester's wounds aren't fatal or permanent, so you are under no threat of expulsion or the like," Ozpin continued, "however, you are hereby banned from participating in combat class or sparring with your fellow students in any way. Do you understand, Mr Arc?"

Jaune nodded, it was probably for the best anyway. He'd probably just end up hurting them...

"The knowledge that the rings continue to hold sway over you is still important information, Mr Arc." Ozpin rose from his desk, his feet guiding him towards the window that overlooked the campus. "It may be distressing for you, but there are larger things at stake here. Terrible things…"

"Nihilus is dead," Jaune lied flatly, studiously ignoring the way the ghost oozed about the room like a cancer.

"Dead? Perhaps, but you never knew me when I was alive."

"Mr Arc…" Ozpin sighed, "Jaune. After much deliberation I have come to realise the greater depth of what exactly Nihilus was, of what he was capable of doing."

Not possible, Ozpin only met the man once. He didn't know what Nihilus was capable of at all.

Jaune didn't bother vocalising that though.

"Tell me Mr Arc, are you a… religious man?" Ozpin queried, an oddly strangled tone to his voice, "Have you heard of the religion of the Two Brothers? Of the God of Light and the God of Dark?"

"Oh, talking about his dirty little secret are we? About Ozpin's greatest sin? I do so love this story…"

What did this have to do with anything? He'd heard of it of course, but it was just some foolish old fairy tale. Utter nonsense. "I have," Jaune said cautiously, not really seeing where this was going. "But I don't see how it matters."

"Ozpin…" Glynda warned, her voice strained.

"He may have insights we do not, Glynda," Ozpin countered, "He is Nihilus' counterpart, after all."

"Let Ozpin weave his tale, let us see how much truth the man tells."

"What are you talking about?" Jaune demanded, his patience finally at an end.

Ozpin turned away from the window to regard Jaune. "Let me tell you a very, very old story, Mr Arc. And please, do not interrupt."

Jaune nodded cautiously, his eyes narrowing on the ghostly form of Nihilus who was cackling in delight. Why was he so amused? Why was he laughing? And… what was Ozpin talking about?

Ozpin looked haunted as he began, his face twisted in grief such that Jaune hadn't ever seen before. "A very long time ago, in an age before the Kingdoms, before Dust, and before even the Grimm, there existed a small village. They practiced the maxims of Good Thoughts, Good Words, and Good Deeds through many prayers and ceremonies meant to bring them closer to the Gods of Light and Dark so they could distance themselves from evil."

"They clung to their weak Gods, clutching at false idols as corrupt as they were.

Jaune ignored Nihilus and looked at Ozpin. That wasn't right. A time before the Kingdoms? Yeah, that was believable, society had to come from somewhere after all. But a time before Grimm? Such a thing… that was impossible. Grimm had always existed. Add to that The God of Light was meant to be the 'good' God, and the God of Dark was meant to be the 'evil' one - or at least that's how the modern interpretation of the religion was viewed.

"However," Ozpin continued, unheeding of Jaune's thoughts, "these people faced a dilemma - the belief that evil exists within all men, no matter how clean and righteous. Seeking a more pure existence, the village elder devised a way to rid them all of their inherent evil." The haunted look on Ozpin's face magnified, "That is, they intended to exclude one of their own and declare them the source of all the world's evil. As doing so would, according to their reasoning, transfer all evil into a single person, a single identity, a single symbol - one they could all blame for their transgressions."

"What kind of reasoning is that?!" Jaune spat. It reminded him all too much of things he'd rather forget. "That's-!"

Ozpin's gaze snapped to Jaune, and all at once Jaune fell silent. The weary look on the older man's face was… overpowering.

"While pathetic," Ozpin whispered as his head fell into his hands, "that is the path they chose. Of their village, they bound a single woman without even aura to protect her... and ritually tortured her into insanity. They carved onto her flesh every cursed word to force every imaginable sin unto her." Ozpin shivered, "W- They... extracted various pieces of her. The torture continued, she was... prevented from dying, defiled by evil acts."

"Do you want to know the best part? The part that Ozpin is hiding from you?"

Jaune gaped. This story… this wasn't part of the religion, there wasn't even any mention of this. It was disgusting, horrible and sick. Even he knew that, as skewed as he was now. But… as terrible as it was, he still couldn't see what it had to do with Nihilus. The story didn't apply to him in any way.

"In that time, she came to loathe the world and the humans who senselessly tortured her." Ozpin looked absolutely sick, like he was physically hurting just to tell the story. "Hatred became her default emotion. Her only salvation was to die from old age, but even in that solace she was cursed - going down in their history as the God of Evil… Salem."

"Don't you see, Betrayer? How could Ozpin know this story? Salem was an interesting creature, she was powerful. Powerful enough to give poor old Ozpin a curse."

The shade of Nihilus seeped into human form, the scarred face and crippled gait of the man juxtaposed with his thrilled grin. "The little witch gave up a generous portion of her power to keep Ozpin alive, to grant him the curse of reincarnation. You see, Ozpin was there. But it's worse than that. He was the village elder. Hewas the one to force that fate upon her. He was the one to create Salem."

Jaune shuddered in disgust and revulsion. That… that couldn't be true. Could it? It was strange that Ozpin knew this, but for him to have actually been there? For him to have been to one to do all that to the woman, to this… Salem? Ozpin was a bigger monster than Jaune ever was. "Then what?" Jaune demanded, "what happened?

Ozpin shuddered, "Then… something happened. Her body was to be destroyed… but then she came back."

All at once, Jaune realised how this story applied to Nihilus. This woman, this… Salem had died and come back, just as Nihilus had. Had Nihilus somehow done as she did? And… if she truly was like Nihilus, then… where was she now? Nihilus had spoken of her in past tense, as though she were gone. But as Nihilus himself showed, being gone amounted to very little.

"Born again with terrible new power and an undying hatred for humanity, Salem eradicated those that had wronged her, utterly annihilating the the village using not only her own power, but the power of the Grimm she created - beasts of pure malefic design." Ozpin… was Ozpin crying? "But her hatred was not sated there; she realised that she did not want humanity to die, she wanted us to suffer."

Jaune shuddered. Why was it so cold in here all of a sudden?

"With her newfound power, Salem drove away the Gods of Light and Dark, and she pushed humanity to the edge of extinction. But then she stopped; she let us rebuild and feel hope once more." Ozpin looked up to Jaune, his eyes bloodshot, "You see, Jaune, Salem came to believe that hope was her greatest weapon. She let us feel hope, then she destroyed us. Reduced humanity to the stone age once more. Again and again she let us build and grow, only to drive us to the brink of extinction. She used hope because she knew that the act of tearing it away hurt worse than any physical wound."

Jaune was silent for a moment, his eyes staring into the Headmaster. This was heavy, and it was made all the worse by the fact that Ozpin had concealed his actual involvement in the atrocity that he was describing. "...Why are you telling me this?" Jaune asked eventually.

Ozpin sunk low into his chair, his eyes dark. "I fear, Mr Arc, that Nihilus may be a far greater monster than we thought. And… I fear he may still be alive."

Behind Ozpin, Nihilus laughed.

Mineshaft, many years ago…

Two years after the Fall of Amity.

"Happy birthday, Jaune!"

Jaune smiled and raised his drink to meet the drinks of his father and sister. "Thanks, guys."

He tried not to grimace at the taste.

Two years… he sure hoped he wouldn't spend the rest of his life in the dark.

1237

A/N

Many things happened this chapter, including the inglorious death and origin of Salem. How's that for a turnaround? Nihilus kills Salem with relative ease while Ozpin spends ages going on about how unbelievably powerful she is. Way to ruin her image.

But her death is only the death of the Salem of the present day timeline, the original Salem from Nihilus' world has still got stuff in store for her. So we haven't technically seen the end of her yet.

Reviews:

Guest:

Thanks for reviewing.

Don't worry, it was fairly subtle.

Guest:

Thanks for reviewing.

Yes, I suppose she is. But there is a difference between being intelligent and being wise.

Folower:

Thanks for reviewing.

A very Merry Christmas to you too.

Well you certainly got your wish didn't you? Salem was owned by Nihilus. That literally couldn't have been more one-sided.

REALLY12:

Thanks for reviewing.

Big questions that have big implications for the story. In short yes, Nihilus can bend reality to his will. As for how powerful actually is... spoilers. Nihilus is the most powerful character by a very, very, very large margin - as you saw this chapter.

ZHsteven:

Thanks for reviewing.

Trust me, Nihilus has no particular desire to be a glorified slave to anyone. Just because Salem schemes of Nihilus serving her it doesn't mean it will happen. For the time being Nihilus is more interested in watching and testing Jaune, not playing around with someone far weaker than him.

And trust me, Salem didn't enjoy meeting Nihilus.

Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review!