Blake and Weiss had been fortunate enough to not be on Amity when this had all started. For all Blake knew, everyone who'd been on Amity was trapped there. Or dead.

Not that it mattered. They'd both defend Beacon whether there was a promise of backup or not. It was a home. More of a home than Blake could remember, anyway, except for in the distant memories from before the Fang; a time and a place to which she couldn't return.

And speaking of the Fang…

"Be safe," Weiss said, turning to reinforce a squad of soldiers struggling against their own Paladin. Blake responded with a short nod and set off in the other direction, towards an Alpha Beowolf that had been dropped on the school by the Fang. It fled from her approach—or, more likely, pursued juicier prey—towards the cafeteria. Letting out a short growl of annoyance, Blake gave chase, rounding a corner to see it leaping up the wall, its claws tearing chunks from the brick and mortar.

"Gah!" A cry of pain emerged from the building, and Blake turned, startled, to see an Atlesian soldier lifted up on a familiar red blade.

/-/

Ruby's hood blew back from her face. Her cloak whipped around her body as she flew through the air, her hands clinging to Gough's grav-dust arrow like a lifeline. The wind buffeted her a little off course, and she entertained the thought: what if Gough's aim was off?

It didn't matter either way: whether it was the wind or his aim, she missed the flagship but passed by close enough that she could leap from the arrow and land without issue. She tucked her chin down and rolled as she hit the deck, coming up to her feet a moment later. Crescent Rose burst into a scythe in her hands.

She wasn't familiar with the ship's layout, and wasn't sure how to get inside. Glancing around, she quickly realised that that was the least of her worries, for flying in from the mountains was the greatest host of Griffons she had ever heard of, let alone seen—and it its head was a great dragon, its wings wider than the ship was long.

It paid her no heed and flew onwards to the city, but one of the Griffons in its retinue sensed her, splitting off from its fellows, to swoop down at her. She dashed to the side to avoid being squashed, and leapt at it, spinning her scythe around her to force it backwards. Hissing, it retreated, then clawed the ground as though preparing to strike again.

A rocket locker collided with it at something resembling terminal velocity before it could strike back, smearing its black blood across the deck and leaving a puff of feathers in its wake. A figure tumbled away from the locker, rolling along the length of the deck before coming to its feet.

"Ruby?"

"Artorias?"

He adjusted his pauldron, which had taken the brunt of his landing, then looked up at her. "I didn't hit anyone important, did I?" he joked. His smile didn't reach his eyes. "What happened on Amity?"

Ruby's tongue felt dry. "Gilderoy… he's injured. Badly. On his way to a hospital, though. And Penny…"

His face was blank, an emotionless mask. "Well," he said eventually, "nothing we can do about it now." His eyes snapped to a point somewhere behind Ruby, over her shoulder.

She followed his gaze to see Roman's little henchman, Neo, garbed in an Atlas uniform. She pointed a scroll at them, and winked as her clothes shimmered white and pink and brown.

"Can you handle her?" Ruby asked. Artorias nodded, already drawing his sword. "I'll go for the bridge. Keep her busy."

Ruby charged, her semblance accelerating her towards Neo. As expected, Neo dodged her first strike, but it put her on the back foot for Artorias, his blade flashing this way and that in an attempt to overpower her. Ruby continued onwards, trailing rose petals the rest of the way up the ship.

Neo had come from this direction; there had to be a door or a hatch that she could get through.

/-/

The squad of soldiers had all long since died or fled at Weiss' command. None of them were equipped to fight Paladins. And, truth be told, neither was Weiss—not alone, at least.

But the students who'd come streaming up the road from the Beacon docks ought to be more than enough. She didn't recognise every face—in particular the massive bald man with the auburn beard, who'd led the initial charge and promptly disappeared into the fray—but they were all welcome.

She sent the clumsy swing of an Ursa slanting off to the side and jabbed at its throat, sending it stumbling back; an elegant twirl put the soft flesh beneath its bony skull-plate in her sights, and a second thrust pierced its brain. Up the path, Reese Chloris and Neon Katt froze a Paladin's legs in place; Weiss took the opportunity, propelling herself towards it from a glyph, but it reacted faster than she anticipated, knocking her off course with a metal fist.

Looking around, that seemed to be par for the course. An already-tiring Ren could barely evade their strikes, and his blades, though they left long scratches on its metal armour, did nothing more than superficial damage. Gough's arrows did little more than slow the Paladins down. Even Yatsuhashi couldn't meet them in a contest of strength.

Where had Pyrrha gone? Glancing around, Weiss couldn't find her—nor Jaune, for that matter. They could really use a semblance like hers right now. But before the fighting had grown too intense, they'd disappeared into Beacon tower with Ozpin. There was no telling when they'd return.

A semblance…

Somebody had to save their skins. Weiss called upon her glyphs, raising Myrtenaster. The knight came much easier this time, as though he were waiting for her call. She shaped him larger than last time, large enough to match the Paladins…

For a man crippled, unable to even stand properly, he was frighteningly fast, dragging himself forwards with his free hand for more range. Glowing blue and white, his sword came crashing down towards Weiss.

She raised Myrtenaster, and a little dust burst from the tip into a shield, sending the knight's weapon skidding to the side.

"What the…" she heard Sun say.

Velvet snapped a photo.

A glyph glowed around Weiss, and it wasn't one of her own making, glowing not with the Schnee snowflake. This one was a pale, ghostly yellow, and glowing feathers floated upwards from its edges to dissipate moments later.

She stood her ground.

"You will do as I command!" she said, mustering every ounce of authority she could manage.

The knight glared daggers at her, and the feathery glyph began to slowly spin, picking up speed.

A Paladin slammed into the knight from the side, shoving him away and opening fire. The glyph beneath Weiss disappeared.

The knight did not shout in pain, nor roar in anger, but his retribution was swift and terrible. Two wild slashes carved open the Paladin's front, the tongues of fire leaping from his blade scorching the machine's shell black. A third downward slash ensured that the Paladin would never rise again. The second Paladin, sensing the threat, turned to attack the knight. A spectral hand emerged from somewhere behind the knight, and a pale, feathery glyph propelled them both through the second Paladin, striking it down in a single blow.

It was this hand that Weiss latched on to with her semblance, a snowflake the colour of ash trapping it in place. But the glyph could not find purchase, and she dismissed it when the knight approached her once more.

"Stop!" she yelled. "I command you to halt!" She saw Neptune coming up behind the knight to attack it; she summoned a glyph to block his approach. She doubted that he'd ever walk away from such an encounter. Another glyph caught Gough's arrow, and yet another silenced Coco's minigun.

She'd brought this thing back into the world, knowing full well the risk. She wouldn't have her friends suffer for it.

She took a step backwards as the knight stalked towards her.

"Who are you?" she asked. "What are you?"

He halted his approach.

"He is my brother," came a voice. It sounded almost like her own brother's voice, if a little older, and it reached her ears as though from across a great distance. "Forgive him. Sunlight stripped his tongue from him. And forgive me. I…"

The knight turned toward Beacon tower. "And still he lives." The speaker's form shimmered a little, just enough for Weiss to see that he was robed and hooded, clinging to his brother's back. He turned to face Weiss again. "Forgive me indeed. Whom do you serve, young scion?"

She'd been born to impress others. Winter had been raised from birth to inherit the company, and while their father had done his best to groom Weiss for the same purpose after Winter had been disinherited, her early upbringing had left a lasting impression. Her singing career had come of it, for one, and—in hindsight—so had her dream to become a Huntress. She'd come to Beacon with something to prove, and not just to herself.

But the world, she'd realised, owed her nothing. And she owed it nothing in return. Only her friends mattered. Everything else took a lower priority. Even the SDC, because as long as she was doing it for others' sake, it would never satisfy.

Perhaps it was selfish of her. She didn't find it within her to care.

"I serve myself," Weiss said, knowing that it was more what she wanted than what was true. "And you serve me."

"I do not wish to," he said. "And if I submit to your will once, you will never leave me to rest." He sighed, and his arm shimmered as he held it to the knight's cheek. "Peace, dear brother. Servitude or not, it seems we have unfinished business." His form shimmered again as he glanced around. "But we have an audience, and the matter of our binding should be kept from prying eyes and ears. Make sure we speak again, young scion."

A glyph flashed blindingly bright, and in a burst of feathers, they disappeared. Weiss released the glyphs holding her friends, almost falling to her knees as the exhaustion of the battle finally set in.

Neptune rushed to her side, but she waved him away, using Myrtenaster to prop herself up. "He's gone," she said. "We're clear."

Further down the path from Beacon tower, another Paladin dashed around a corner and began barrelling towards them.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Sun growled, echoing Weiss' own thoughts.

/-/

Artorias gritted his teeth. "So, last time," he said, ducking a kick that had come out of nowhere, "you threw me off an airship."

Neo backed away and stroked her chin thoughtfully, the picture of innocence. Then she nodded, a bright, happy smile on her face.

"This one's considerably higher off the ground."

Her smile broadened.

"Let's not do that again, alright?"

She shrugged and, before he knew it, she'd crossed the gap between them. He managed to bat away her first kick with the back of his gauntleted hand, but was forced to go on the defensive for a brief exchange—one or two of the diminutive girl's kicks getting through his guard—before he successfully warded her away with a heavy punch to the shoulder.

He'd been aiming for her face, but it was better than nothing. It put her at arm's length—or, more accurately beyond arm's length, where he could strike her with his longer blade but where she could not. He levelled his weapon at her and made it clear he'd strike at a single movement. He had little doubt she could dodge it, but it was a risk she clearly wasn't quite willing to take, backing away even further so that they were effectively stalemated.

A crash shook their concentration. Behind Neo, Ruby crashed out of a window on the observation deck, scythe landing close by. Roman Torchwick stepped through the shattered glass after her, twirling his cane. And following him was the Fume Knight.

"Ah, wolf!" Roman greeted. "I was hoping somebody was babysitting Neo." The girl in question stuck her tongue out at Roman. "Mind if I-"

"He's mine," Raime growled, picking his way through the glass strewn about the deck. "Stand aside, girl. Do not interfere."

"Now that's hardly fair," Artorias said. "She softened me up."

Raime tugged a knife from his belt and tossed it to Artorias, who caught it in his left hand. It was the dagger he'd lost in Carim.

"In the interest of fighting fairly," Raime said. He hefted his greatsword, the end clanking against the metal floor.

Neo pouted, but departed to help Roman.

Artorias sheathed his dagger and gripped his sword in both hands, shifting onto his back foot in a defensive stance.

Raime moved first, his heavy boots pounding on the deck as he charged. Artorias met him halfway, swinging straight for his neck; Raime parried and retaliated, his greatsword humming as it split the air. Artorias ducked the blow and aimed for the Fume Knight's leg; his greatsword sparked along the floor as he spun it into position to block. Raime's second blade came loose of its sheath, and Artorias leaned back and away from the quick swipe.

Back it went into the sheath, and Raime gripped his massive sword in both hands, following Artorias along the ship with an overhead strike. Unwilling to block it with strength alone, Artorias sent it slanting off to the side, where it bit deep into the steel deck, leaving Raime open. Artorias rushed to capitalise, throwing all his weight into every swing. His feet jarred with every heavy step as he drove the Fume Knight backwards, staying too close for that massive, dangerous weapon to be of any use.

Across the deck, Ruby and Neo clashed while Roman stood by, content to let the colourful girl fight for him save for the occasional swing when an opportunity presented itself. Artorias watched as Neo kicked Ruby towards Roman, sending Crescent Rose spinning from her grasp. Roman bounced his cane from the deck into Ruby's face, leaving her staggering and disoriented. His cane returned to his hand and he aimed a quick blast at her, sending her flying off the edge of the ship.

"Ruby!" Artorias called. He slowed his assault, affording Raime a strike that clobbered him across his midriff, sending him skidding backwards along the deck, gasping for air.

He saw Neo approach the edge of the ship, where Crescent Rose was left embedded in the steel, and aim her blade down. Ruby must be holding on.

Artorias grabbed a dust crystal from his pouch and threw it over Raime's head towards Neo. It twinkled pale blue against the night sky.

It plinked off the back of Neo's head uselessly.

She shot a dirty look over her shoulder and poked her tongue out at him. Ruby capitalised on the distraction, swinging from Crescent Rose back up onto the deck and tearing her weapon loose with a blast of recoil.

Artorias had a rather more pressing matter to deal with, deploying his shield to block Raime's downward strike. Sparks flew from the impact. Raime chambered another strike, but something rocked the ship before he could swing.

They stood in silence, crouched low to maintain balance while the ship shuddered. A banging came from below deck.

"Lautrec!" Raime shouted suddenly. He turned on his heel and fled towards the broken window into the observation deck. Artorias gave chase, drawing his dagger. A large Griffon swooped down to block their path, but Raime sliced its leg off without slowing down, leaving it to collapse in Artorias' path; he gave it a wide berth to avoid the flailing wings that threatened to sweep him off the deck, then continued to chase the Fume Knight into the ship's bowels.

/-/

"You're here to kill me."

"I'm not much of a fighter." The man whom others call Lapp removed his helmet and placed it down atop the console, noting the scroll inserted in the port that glowed red and black. Cinder did have a little flair for the dramatic, he supposed.

But then, who didn't? He shook his head and ran his fingers along his bare scalp as if to alleviate helmet-hair. Sure, he'd come into the world at the ripe old age of balding, but he could dream, right?

"But you are here to kill me," Lautrec said. His wrist, shackled to the fixed leg of the chair, was red and raw from his attempts to free himself.

"I'm here to have you killed," Lapp corrected. "It's a small mercy. A better fate than what Raime has in store for you, anyway, and a far better fate than you deserve."

"And what do you think I deserve?" Lautrec asked.

"Well," Lapp said, "let's see. You're a murderer. That's already damning. But you also murdered an innocent, which is-"

"She was not innocent."

"Relatively innocent, then." Lapp shrugged. The ship shuddered, and his nose wrinkled. "Sure is taking his time. Where was I? Oh. Thing is, what you deserve and what you get are completely different. If someone gave me what I deserved, I'd either be set up on my own personal tropical island for life or damned to the deepest pit of hell for all eternity. Or both, as it so happened."

Lautrec scowled. "Get it over with, then."

"Oh, this won't be quick." The ship shuddered again, and from the hallway outside the bridge Lapp could hear the heavy pounding of feet. He stood and collected his helmet, heading for the other exit, pausing as the door opened before him. "The name's Patches, by the way," he said. "I suppose I owe you that, if nothing else. Good luck dying, friend."

The other door began to open, only getting halfway before it buckled under the beast's weight.

/-/

Artorias pursued Raime through the shattered window, down a flight of stairs, and through a series of winding corridors. They came to a wide door that had been torn apart, revealing the ship's bridge. Shackled to the chair were Lautrec's bloody remains, his chest torn open and his face mauled almost beyond recognition. Raime charged through the door blindly, but a figure leapt from the corner, knocking Raime through a console and pinning him to the ground. His greatsword fell not far from him.

Vordt stood over the Fume Knight, his armour and claws stained red with blood. He swung down at Raime, his claw bouncing off aura, then Raime managed to roll him off and rise to his feet, collecting his greatsword where it had fallen. But Vordt recovered faster than Raime anticipated, diving at him once more, and they both crashed through the central console. Again, Raime threw him off, though this time with far more force, and Vordt crashed into the viewing window, sending spidery cracks running through the fibreglass.

Every screen in the room began to flash red. Throughout the ship, warning sirens began to sound, and, after a final shudder, the ship began to fall to the ground, tilting forwards as it did so. From where he stood by the door, Artorias could read one screen clearly: "Evacuate," it flashed.

He didn't need telling twice.

He turned to flee, leaving Vordt and Raime to their brawl, and almost crashed into Roman as he came barrelling down the hallway, Neo hot on his heels. They all skidded to a halt, levelling their weapons at each other even as the hallway tilted on a steeper and steeper incline. "Where's Ruby?" Artorias asked.

"Probably chasing us, the little rat." Roman peered over Artorias' shoulder into the bridge. True to form, Ruby came hurtling around the corner a few seconds later.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Ship's gone. Will be soon, anyway," Roman said. He breathed long and deeply. "I suppose nobody wins, unless you're going to try and arrest us. Personally, I'd like to get off this deathtrap before it's too late. So… step aside, little Red."

Ruby's eyes hardened, and she tightened her grip on her scythe.

"There's no time," Artorias said.

Behind Artorias, there was an almighty crash. He whirled around to see what had happened; the viewing window had finally been smashed, and Raime and Vordt tumbled out of it, still locked in their brawl.

"Go," Ruby said, her voice low. "If we see you again-"

"I'm sure you'll do your utmost best to take me down, you heroic huntress, you," Roman said, bowing mockingly. He and Neo set off down the hall, though he stopped to whisper something in Ruby's ear before disappearing around the corner.

"What did he say?" Artorias asked.

"Nothing important. Let's go. There should be some dropships or gunships towards the back of the ship."

"Any idea how to fly them?"

"Can't be that hard."

/-/

"Think you can pull that off again?"

Weiss shook her head, still leaning heavily on Myrtenaster. Even if the knight had obeyed her, she felt drained beyond her limit.

Coco pursed her lips. "Velvet!" she called.

"Really?" the Faunus asked.

"Make 'em count."

Velvet stepped forwards to meet the charging Paladin, but before she could draw a weapon the red light faded from its cockpit and it collapsed, digging a trench in the pathway as it slid towards them, halting mere inches from Velvet.

"Huh," Coco said. "Nevermind then."

"Weiss!" The girl being addressed looked up at the sound of Yang's voice; she was rushing over from the general direction of the dorms. "You're okay! Have you heard from Ruby?" Weiss shook her head. "What about Blake?"

"She went after an Alpha," Weiss said, her voice tired and hoarse. She raised an arm and gestured in the general direction Blake had gone.

"Ruby was on the airship," Gough said. "The one that…"

"The one that crashed. I saw it." Yang's fists clenched. "She'll be in the city somewhere. I'm sure of it. I'll find Blake."

"And Smough," Gough said. "My brother. He disappeared at the start of the battle."

"I'll keep an eye out for him. Get to the docks, all of you. This isn't going to get any better."

/-/

The elevator doors opened into the vault, and Ozpin ran down it as quickly as he was able, hearing Pyrrha and Jaune's footsteps close behind.

"What is this place?" Jaune asked.

"It's… a type of vault," Pyrrha responded.

"You've been here before?" he asked. Her silence was telling. "What would this school need to hide?"

Ozpin skidded to a halt before the aura transfer machine and leaned the Profaned Greatsword against the console. "Pyrrha, get to the pods," he commanded, whirling around on them both. There was no time for distraction, no time for explanation. This had to happen now. He could only hope that Qrow and Ironwood were handling Lautrec's end of things. "Mr Arc, if you'd like to help, you can stand guard here."

He turned to the console, typing in the many passcodes required to begin, an unfortunate handover from a more fortunate time. They'd had the luxury of security once—not that long ago, really. Only a few hours.

But no. This was a scheme far more than a few days in the making. They'd been blind, despite the security.

"What do we do now?" Pyrrha asked.

"We do nothing," Ozpin said. "You, Miss Nikos, have a choice to make."

The silence was terrifying. She looked to Jaune, and Ozpin wondered what went through her head. Perhaps he would hold her back. Perhaps he would inspire her to rise to the occasion.

He hoped it would be the latter. Though even Ozpin couldn't predict the outcome of the aura transfer with total accuracy, it was a risk they'd have to take.

They'd have to take more risks, gather more allies, if they were to survive this war. And, Ozpin thought, glancing at the Profaned Greatsword, a fragile alliance was better than none.

Pyrrha wiped at her eye and stepped up into the pod. Ozpin sealed it shut.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

She nodded once.

"I… I need to hear you say it," Ozpin said.

Because, gods forbid, if something went wrong…

Because, gods forbid, if something went right…

"Yes."

Ozpin looked away. "Thank you, Miss Nikos."

/-/

Blake scuttled away, hearing Adam's angry strikes cut through chairs and tables. She tripped and fell on a bit of rubble, but rolled to her knees, bringing up her pistol.

"This could have been our day; can't you see that?" He stalked towards her, sheathing his blade.

"I never wanted this. I wanted equality; I wanted peace!" She fired off two shots as he came closer. He caught both.

"What you want is impossible!" he said. He crossed the remaining distance between them, then slapped her across the face before she could rise. Her eyes watered from the pain. "But I understand. Because all I want is you, Blake." She tried to raise her weapon, but he kicked it away. "And as I set out upon this world and deliver the justice mankind so greatly deserves, I will make it my mission to destroy everything you love."

"Blake!" Adam tilted his head, listening for the cries. Ember Celica fired once faintly. "Blake, where are you?"

Run! Blake wanted to tell her.

And Adam knew. Because he still knew her better than anybody. He smiled. "Starting with her," he said.

/-/

"Ozpin!"

A dark fog rushed up the hallway, obscuring Jaune's vision. He could hear cries of pain, the din of combat, and, above it all, footsteps that echoed, one after the other, perfectly timed.

But he couldn't see anything.

Ozpin whirled around, grabbing the strange greatsword he'd carried with him. "Stay back," he ordered. He pressed one last button on the console, and the coffin with the dreaming girl began to glow orange. "Don't let it be interrupted."

He raised his cane, and a light shone from its handle just as he fog reached them. It didn't do much to illuminate the room; Jaune could see faint silhouettes now, perhaps, but still nothing more.

He heard Pyrrha's screams behind him, and he wanted to go to her, but knew he had far more pressing matters.

Something came rushing at him through the darkness. He stepped forwards to meet it, but the figure was slippery, weaving past his shield bash. He saw a flash of green hair rushing towards Ozpin before he was forced to turn once more, this time to block the blow of a curved, flaming sword. The weight of the strike slid him backwards across the floor a little, but he didn't miss the woman in red ducking beneath the flames.

"Back!" he roared, strafing to block her path. She did not slow down, instead leaping at him full-speed. He caught her on his shield, but she leapt off it like a springboard, and the blades in her hand came together to form a bow…

The quiet tink of the arrow piercing glass was deafening.

Pyrrha! He whirled around, praying to any deity that would listen that it wasn't her. She was unharmed, but the other girl with the scarred face had an arrow through her heart.

She breathed her last.

The orange light shone brightly, rushing back into the girl's body where it burst out of her chest into the fog, illuminating it for a brief second.

Flames cut through the darkness, and the sound of the measured paces finally ceased, taken over by a strangled, ear-splitting cry. The door to one of the pods was blown away, and Pyrrha came up to stand alongside him, looking pale.

The darkness receded rapidly to reveal the woman in red, floating some two metres off the ground. Scorching flames flowed from her outstretched hand, the Dancer in flames. Behind her stood Emerald and Mercury, looking exhausted but determined.

The woman in red, then… that was their team leader. What was her name?

Cinder?

"Take this," Ozpin said to Pyrrha.

"What?"

Ozpin shoved the greatsword towards her. "Get it to Vengarl. Tell him that it will remind her who she is. He'll know what it means. Find Glynda. Ironwood. Qrow. The tower must not fall," he said.

"But I can help!"

He pressed the sword into her hands and stepped forwards, taking another sword from its mantle on the wall. He spun it in his hand with a practiced flourish, getting himself used to its balance.

"You'll only get in the way," he said.

Jaune and Pyrrha shared a glance. They did not need telling twice. They ran for the elevator, giving the smoking corpse of the creature a wide berth. Cinder watched them go but did not follow, instead waving for Emerald and Mercury to give chase.

They stumbled into the elevator. Jaune mashed the button for the ground floor, and Pyrrha held the doors shut with her semblance.

/-/

A cry split the air. It was Blake. Yang couldn't mistake it. Blake was in pain. Blake her partner. Blake her friend.

Her head turned towards it. It was surreal, still, everlasting, burned into her eyes forevermore. Blake, her arm outstretched, a blade piercing her stomach. That strange man… that monster. White Fang. He sheathed his red blade, a smirk dancing at the edge of his mouth. "GET AWAY FROM HER!" Yang roared.

Blake was saying something. She was aware of that, in a way. Blake was saying something to her.

But Yang couldn't hear it, not really. And she didn't care. All she could hear was blood, roaring in her ears, screaming at her to act.

Yang roared with it and launched herself forwards.

She saw the moment the monster's blade came loose in its sheathe again. Colour drained from the world as it arced towards her.

This was a mistake, she realised. She'd messed up, and it would cost her more than she could afford.

A red vortex burst into existence between them. She passed through it, caught the glimpse of a mask—a different one, this one larger, behind it a mane of pitch-black hair—then through another red vortex.

"Rav- Yang?"

"Dad?"

/-/

Blake couldn't breathe.

Time seemed to slow down as Adam's blade came free of its sheath. Yang disappeared in a flash of red light, but the blade continued its path of destruction, slicing cleanly through a pillar standing some five metres to Adam's right.

He sheathed his blade. "Hmph." He turned to face her, and despite the mask Blake was sure that his smile didn't reach his eyes. "It seems she has a powerful friend." He walked towards her, his shoes clacking on the ground. Blake struggled to her feet, blood oozing from the wound in her side, her head feeling light.

It was when she took her first shaky step that Adam's scowl returned. His pace sped up, and just as she was taking her third step away he struck her with the flat of his sword, knocking her face-down to the ground once more. "Come with me, my love," he said, his voice low, "and I will ensure that you suffer before your time is up."

She felt his hand on the back of her collar, then a heard a sudden thud and a crash, and his hand was gone.

"Get up!" someone yelled. Her mystery saviour grabbed her roughly by the shoulder and rolled her over, laying two fingers against her neck to check for a pulse. "Come on, get up!" He was a big man—bigger even than Yatsuhashi, bigger than Gough—with a bald head and an auburn beard and a huge golden hammer held loosely in his right hand as though it were as light as a feather. He set it down on the ground and, swearing, tore the ribbon from her head and held it against her wound. "Hold it here," he said. His eyes lingered a little on her ears before he shook his head. "Come on!" he repeated.

Blake blinked once, twice, then—with the stranger's help, climbed to her feet once more. Adam was embedded in the opposite wall, spidery cracks running along it from where he'd impacted. He peeled himself from the wall, rubble beginning to rain around him. His aura flickered, and a dislocated knee popped back into place.

"Another dogged contender," he snarled.

"Can you run?"

"Maybe," Blake mumbled.

"Go. Go!" He turned so that he was between her and Adam, and hefted his hammer.

"He'll kill you."

"He can fucking try. Get out of here!"

Blake understood. As long as she was away, he'd be able to run too. She took one shaky step, then another, picking up a stumbling gait.

"Stop running, Blake!" roared Adam.

"Eyes here, you mangy bastard!" She quelled the bile rising in her throat. Behind her, she heard metal striking metal.

"And who are you, exactly?"

"Smough god-damn Iris. And you're a dead beast."

That was the last Blake heard. She feared that if she stopped, she'd be unable to start moving again. So she fled, half-crawling, as far as her rapidly weakening body could carry her.

/-/

"This whole time," Cinder said, her voice low and angry. Her eyes flitted to the old Fall Maiden briefly, then back to Ozpin. "Right beneath our feet."

Ozpin said nothing. His cane collapsed into its handle and he hooked it to his belt. His stance shifted, and he hunched low, the silver sword in his left hand angled away.

A burst of energy lit up the room before coalescing around Ozpin's sword, sheathing it in hues of silver and pale green. All the lights of the night sky twinkled and shimmered in the depths of the glowing blade, casting long shadows about the room.

Cinder's eyes narrowed. "She was right about you. Such arrogance."

Is that a Ludwig's Bizarre Adventure reference?

Yeah. The Moonlight Greatsword of Dark Souls, sadly, has nothing on Bloodborne's Holy Moonlight Sword, at least as far as aesthetics are concerned. Does this mean Ludwig existed in this world? No (though it doesn't mean he didn't either; I have thrown a few other Bloodborne references around, though this is the first one to go beyond worldbuilding). If you'll recall, in an earlier chapter Ozpin mused that one of the weapons Gwyn forged when he was trying to recreate the Relic of Destruction was held in the Vault beneath Beacon. That's its backstory here.

RIP Lautrec, RIP Smough, RIP Dancer, RIP Vordt, RIP Amber. Raime will live, though he's failed utterly in his task thanks to Patches. Not that he knows who to blame. But I can't kill Raime off until he and Vengarl come face to face again. Well, I could, but I don't want to.

Lautrec suffered walking-macguffin-syndrome because I didn't commit to the backstory I planned for him. There are reasons for that I'll go into before hitting the hiatus, but for the time being rest assured that I know I fucked up with him.

Smough is another dogged contender. In the original plan for how V3 would play out, Gilderoy wasn't nearly as badly wounded, but Smough was a hell of a lot more racist, so the idea was that he would get separated from the students and rampage through the White Fang. That still happens here, but the motive is less about racism and more that the only way he knows how to handle his emotions is through violence.

We've got two more chapters to go before a hiatus. I'm not sure if the next one will be on Friday. It depends on how long I'm away over the next two days. But it'll definitely be coming on the weekend.