Author's Note: The Patr eon account is live! Those who wish can now support me on Patr eon with different tiers of rewards. Just go to the website and add /adambeck to the URL (Since FFN doesn't allow links.) Every bit helps and you're not just supporting S/S, but any and all future projects of mine. Thank you all for reading and sticking with this story for so long. The White War arc is coming to its long-awaited climax. What lies next? It's in the title. Sunshine and Shadows.

Thank you all again, and, as always: Keep Moving Forward.

~Adam Beck


"I've got it!" cried Blake, startling Weiss from her intent focus. Unlike the rest of Team RWBY, Weiss had only barely been putting forth effort in their search for knowledge of the approaching apocalypse. The dusty tome she'd been studying had been filed under "Mythos" and she highly doubted that Ruby, Yang, or Blake would appreciate her staring at alien legends for any length of time. But this tome in particular had held Weiss' attention for one simple reason: the name 'Assane.'

The snow-haired woman mentally berated herself for lapsing in attention again and refocused on the conversation. "...when we came to the world we called Mausoleum, we found him—the great Dragon Andrakka, though, great did not begin to describe him. His size was unfathomable. A single talon was thousands of meters long. His body the size of a continent. In truth, we believed him to be as such until the very dirt beneath us heaved and his great maw arose. We had never encountered such a creature before. Without Soul and Aura, he was Void and Empty. We found our wits had deserted us and for what seemed an eternity, we stared at this creature. Torn between our duty to Vanquish Darkness and our duty to Embrace Life, we devoted weeks to studying the beast. His pure Red Eye never left us, needing neither Sleep nor Drink, he watched us and we watched him. After a standard cycle of study, he did the Impossible. This creature, this unfathomable gargantuan, began to Shift his Form. Storms rose and Mountains crumbled as the land tore itself asunder. Then, this beast took a Form of humanoid shape, almost similar to the Servant Race. Skin as Black as Night and Eyes of Red with elongated dagger-shaped ears, and a flowing mane of fine, white hair—he bore the physique of Man but lacked the reproductive organs, navel, and nipples where Man would have them. What we had mistaken for snow-topped mountains we found to be, in truth, bony spines that Pierced his flesh like natural armor. He had assumed our size and he had assumed our form and as his mouth split to speak, we attacked in fear. I alone survived to write this tome and even now, my small ship is limping back to the Fleet. I can only hope that our Light will outshine this Darkness."

Blake took a moment to catch her breath and looked up at everyone. "This...this can't be real, can it?"

"What is the title of this tome?" asked Weiss.

"It's a journal. I can't find a name for the owner but...he speaks of humans and faunus."

"Humanity hasn't ever launched a space expedition," Weiss whispered. "Atlas tried and the ship was torn apart by drægons. They've never let us leave our atmosphere."

"Then it's ancient," Ruby said simply. Team RWBY stared at their leader who just shrugged. "Ancient humans has been a theory for a very long time. I read stuff."

"It's never been an accepted theory," Weiss coddled gently.

"Well neither have aliens and we all know how that ended," Yang pointed out. Yang's teammates just stared at her incredulously.

This isn't even a taste of what you face.

Yang lurched forward and turned around. "Who said that?"

Weiss frowned. "Who said what? Yang, are you okay?"

Andrakka is a disgraced lieutenant. A failure. A weakling cut from the forces of Darkness like chaff from wheat. The Great Dragon is nothing but a whining pup.

Yang paled and cast her gaze to where Ember Celica II was stashed in a small duffle bag. "Guys...is hearing voices normal?"

You do not truly think that I would give you such a gift and not stick around to watch events unfold.

The huntress hissed under her breath. "You died."

Death cannot stop the creative. My body and most of my soul are indeed gone, but I stashed a portion of my consciousness inside your gauntlets. Though, if I'd known, I would have chosen your sister's marvelous piece. So much room.

She threw up her hands. "Great! I'm crazy, my gauntlets are talking to me, and our Great Dragon is actually just a renegade Grimm soldier at the bottom of the ladder! We need to get the hell out of this place..."

"Well," said Blake, closing the dusty tome. "At least things can't get any weirder, right?"

Behind them, Ruby collapsed.


The sun rose on the first day of spring and illuminated the dewdrops and patches of white snow the dusted the grand Elysium Fields. The ground trembled as a hundred thousand troops emerged from the forest. Led by four warriors on horseback, the Legion marched towards the gleaming marble and jade spires of the Eternal Palace. Janus, for the first time in years, bore his Praetor's armor: a full set of heavy, ornamental plate mail made of darksteel and painted white and red and gold. His helmet bore the impressively long, crimson plume of the Praetor and his cloak flapped behind him. Next to him, just as dazzling in a qipao woven of golden and green dust, was the Empress herself. Two long dadao were strapped to her bare thighs and an impressive zhanmadao was secured to her back. Her long, flowing hair was pulled up into a bun, secured with two small senbon.

Beside her, a black stallion bore a black rider, dressed entirely in black cloths and light leather armor. The only decoration he bore was a tiny pendant with a sparkling emerald in it.

The fourth rider was Guan Yu. The war-saint dressed the part with thick sode protecting his shoulders and a jade-colored cuirass. His long, teal robes flowed behind him and his hair was free and unbound, woven with red ribbons that matched the red war-paint.

"Quintilis cannot lead the charge without a legate! Primus must lead the charge!"

"Quintilis has its legate."

Directly behind the four leaders was a woman in ordinary legionary armor with two long red scarves dangling from her shoulders. Teal eyes peered from under the helmet as she struggled to calm her breathing. Her eyes stayed glued to the man in front of her.

"Lia...why did you do this?"

"Sienna said...she said that all true warrior women of the Legion cut their hair before battle."

"But..."

"Am I not of your Legion now, husband?"

"You are."

"Then should I not honor your traditions, as I know you would honor mine?"

"Your hair—"

"—will grow back, mo cridhe. Now come. Lay with me. I would have you as my husband for one more night."

To either side of OAQE's leader were Valentine and Duncan. Both had opted out of wearing Legion armor for favor of their own hunter trappings. Duncan's Triple Goddess had been repaired and honed by the Legion's top black smiths and, with what surely had been a joke, he'd been given a long green scarf. He mutely looked over at Valentine, whose single eye swept over the battlefield while he absent-mindedly tinkered with Tiny Tybalt.

"You don't have to say it."

"..."

"I said don't."

"..."

"Okay, okay, fine. We'll fight. But we're doing this for her, not for him."

"..."

"Yeah, I miss him, too."

Across the field, a blinding light arose as the Prismgard marched in their mirrored armor. Light flooded the battlefield. Several defensive weapons rolled behind the front ranks and the army stopped only a short ways from the walls. Ballistae, catapults, scorpios, and even a few trebuchets woven from different Colors lined the field.

"They will attack at dawn, from the south forest."

"Right on schedule. Thank you."

"Will he really help us?"

"He will submit."

"Then we unleash him on them all."

"And pave the way for the True God."

Gavin White, dressed in a long, white, button-up tunic that fell to his bare feet, gazed out at the field. On a lower balcony, his Prisms stood tall. The newest initiates had sworn themselves the evening before and received their Mark. The only one missing was the Pre-Red who stood behind Gavin White, deep in meditation, deep red-black glyphs surrounding him.

The leaders of the Legion stopped their horses and stared at the army that arrayed itself before them. The Legion outnumbered Gavin's troops nearly two to one.

"Why has his full host not assembled?" asked Hou Yi from his horse.

Janus patted Snowmane's neck and thought for a moment. "I'm not certain. Perhaps he has fortified the city and wants to force and urban war?"

"No, he has the advantage on the field. His siege engines far outnumber and outclass our own," Guan Yu supplied.

"I wish Brutus was here," Janus said.

"He'd be proud of you, son," Guan Yu smiled at the young Praetor who barely returned the expression. "One thing is for certain," he continued. "I'm sure you can't wait to get back to Beacon."

"I don't think there will be any going back," Janus whispered.

For a few minutes both armies stood on opposite sides of the Fields and stared each other down. Suddenly, a large projection of Gavin White's head appeared in the middle of the Fields. After exchanging looks, the four spurred their horses forwards.

"I see you brought everyone," the usurper sneered. "Good, it saves me the hassle of tracking every one of you rats in the woods."

"I see you're still hiding behind projections and lies," Chang'e retorted.

"My apologies, Empress, but I'm about to be very very busy and I've forgotten my shoes."

"There is still time for you to surrender," Guan Yu said quietly.

"Surrender?" Gavin scoffed then laughed. "War-Saint, your naivete is truly astounding."

"Don't you understand?" Janus finally spoke up. "There is no endgame. There is no throne. There is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army is too much. Maybe we can't win. But if we cannot save this world from you, then you can be damned sure that we'll avenge it. And we'll never stop fighting."

Gavin was silent for a moment. "So be it." The projection disappeared.

"Back to the line," Guan Yu said, and quickly they rode.

"LEGION!" Janus shouted.

"HO!"

"THERE WILL BE A DAY WHEN OUR HEARTS WILL BE BROKEN!"

"NOT THIS DAY, PRAETOR!" The Legion stamped their feet.

"THERE WILL BE A DAY WHEN THE SHADOW CASTS OUT THE LIGHT!"

"NOT THIS DAY, PRAETOR!" The Legion stamped once more, the ground thundering with their boots.

"THERE WILL BE A DAY WHEN OUR COURAGE COLLAPSES!"

"NOT THIS DAY, PRAETOR!"

"THERE WILL BE A DAY WHEN OUR FRIENDS TURN AND LEAVE US!"

"NOT THIS DAY, PRAETOR!"

"THERE WILL BE A DAY WHEN THE CREATURES OF DARKNESS AND THOSE WITH EVIL IN THEIR HEARTS WILL TRIUMPH!"

"NOT THIS DAY, PRAETOR!"

"THERE WILL BE A DAY WHEN THE SUN WON'T RISE!"

"THEN WE FIGHT IN THE DARK!"

"THERE WILL BE A DAY WHEN THE SKIES RAIN BLOOD!"

"THEN WE BATHE IN THE BLOOD!"

"THERE WILL BE A DAY WHEN THE END DRAWS NEAR!"

"THEN WE FIGHT TO THE END!"

Janus paused. Chang'e touched his hand and courage flooded into him. "WE MAY FALL!"

"NOT THIS DAY!"

"WHEN WILL WE FALL?"

"NOT THIS DAY!"

"LEGION?"

"AVE PRAETORUM!"

"FOR MISTRAL! FOR THE EMPRESS! FOR REMNANT! AND FOR THE FREEDOM OF THOSE WHO COME AFTER!"

"VICTORIA AUT MORS! GLORIA ET HONORE! SICUT ILLI QUI CONTRA NOS, HADES EXSPECTAT!" The Legion was riled up and ready for blood. The men and women screamed and yelled and stamped their feet and pounded sword on shield and spear on ground. The cacophony was deafening.

Janus looked behind him and his eyes locked with his beloved. Somehow, over the noise and clamor and commotion, she heard him whisper. "For our friends."

"QUINTILIS! IERO!"

The Legion, led by the four horsemen, the three hunters, and the Broken Fifth Cohort, surged across the fields.

"Something isn't right," Guan Yu shouted over at Janus. They'd nearly reached the halfway point when the sea of mirrored armor parted and a thousand unarmored civilians poured forth. Armed with dull and rusted swords, shields and pikes, they ran forward, an unorganized mess. The Legion in its entirety almost stopped completely, and in moments, each of the thousand had killed three men before the Legion could recover. The civilians continied to cut in bloody frenzy as desperate centurions and legates looked to their Generals and the Praetor for orders.

Janus hesitated for only a moment before Chang'e gripped one of her dadao and slashed it through the head of a rotund woman in her forties who had just stabbed a legionary with a pitchfork. The woman toppled and all hell broke loose. Janus, lost in the eye of the storm, marveled in horror at Gavin White's ruthlessness. In a single moment, without expending a single man, he'd traded a thousand civilian lives for three-and-a-half thousand legionaries. Damn you, Prism Lord. Janus pulled Rubicon from his back and brandished the double bladed sword. With twin motions, he and Guan Yu began to whirl their weapons around themselves, creating a deadly cyclone of blades. The unarmored makeshift warriors fell without a struggle.

As the reeling Legion tried to recover. Gavin's siege weapons opened fire. Each Color exploded into various effects. The Red catapults threw fire and the Blue ones threw scalding water. Yellow scorpios fired bolts of electricity and the green trebuchets coated swaths of the battlefield in burning acidic goo.

"PHALANX!" called the Praetor as he and the other leaders nimbly skirted each blast. The various cohorts scrambled to form their shields but just as their strategy was beginning to take hold, the siege engines broke apart and morphed into hulking monsters. Each resembled a colored Grimm from Beowolves to Ursa and even a King Taijitu.

The Prismgard charged. Bright steel weapons and mirrored armor blinded the Legion as the enemy rushed them. Quintilis stood strong, a hundred men against an army of fifty thousand.

Janus' comms buzzed. "Praetor, your backup is here."

"Zaafiel?"

"You didn't think we would miss out on a blood bath like this, do you?"

"Thank the gods," Janus mumbled.

From the sky, Zaafiel swooped down and landed between the two clashing forces. The men of the Fifth glanced at this new combatant warily. Zaafiel pulled his wings in and stood tall with the fiery redhead by his side.

Remus Sienna Quintilis stood tall, dressed not in her legate's gear, but in the armor of a Praetor.

"Blasphemy!" cried one of the Generals near Janus.

"Not blasphemy," Janus whispered. "Providence."

Broadcasting to the entire army, Janus spoke into his throat mic, "By order of the Praetor and the Empress of Mistral," a quick glance and a nod from Chang'e, "Remus Sienna Quintilis is Praetor in probatio. Follow her orders as though they were my own."

The men and women from Quintilis let out a mighty cry and as the other Fears assembled around their honorary fifth, the Legion gained traction once more.


Elsewhere, Lia, Valentine, and Duncan fought against three of the Prism Lord's beasts: a monstrous gorilla-like Grimm called a Beringel, a Death Stalker, and a fledgling drægon wyvern. Duncan was trying to keep the wyvern at bay with his bow while also dodging it's yellow lightning breath. The red Beringel swatted at Lia whose Rue and Rosemary swung in deadly arcs. Valentine was in sync perfectly and flipped between the bronze chains of his leader's weapons, firing large spreads of Burn dust at the two ground-based Grimm. Compared to their other fights, this was almost child's play.

With a mighty swing, Lia sliced through the Death Stalker's tail and as the stinger fell, Valentine flipped around and kicked it towards the Beringel. The stinger slid neatly into the Grimm's chest and the red beast melted in a puddle of liquid fiery color. The violet Death Stalker clicked its pincers before rushing forward, not to its attackers, but towards Duncan.

Duncan catapulted backwards and broke his bow apart into Mother and Maiden, the string unwinding into the container along the spine of the blades. With an unnatural ferocity, the colored Grimm fought Duncan on even ground, matching him blow for blow.

"This thing isn't Grimm. It must be controlled by Gavin," Valentine announced as he reloaded. "We need to get to that Palace and fast."

The wyvern turned for another pass and Valentine ripped the eyepatch off of his left eye and stared the creature down. His semblance withered the beast and it crashed into the dirt, shriveling and cracking before crumbling into dust. Valentine slipped the patch back on and turned to Duncan. "You gonna kill that thing or what?"

Duncan groaned before knocking the pincers away easily and stabbing the Death Stalker in two of its eyes. The beast collapsed into itself forming a small singularity that then vanished with a pop.

"Let's go," Duncan whispered, securing his scarf around his neck. Together, they broke off from the fighting and sprinted towards the castle.

Behind, three wolves tracked them.


The streets of the City of Ages were empty.

"Did he draft everyone of age?" Lia asked in a haunted whisper.

"Where are the Spartans?" asked Valentine.

"The Spartans were betrayed," a voice spoke from behind them. They whirled around to find Yahto and his wolves. "When we invaded the city, the Phalanx had already struck a deal with Gavin, and sealed away the archagetai, the Spartan Kings. Cut off from their leaders and source of power, the loyal Spartans crumbled. They were either pressed into service or imprisoned. The truly rebellious were killed."

"Great. So. What can we expect to find here?"

"Them," Yahto pointed.

The trio turned to see Ferrin Flint and Marigold Greer's dusty undead forms shambling forward. Lia rolled her eyes. "I'm getting really tired of fighting these two," she grumbled.

"Then allow me," Yahto offered. Tomahawks in hand, he rushed passed the trio, his wolves splitting apart to attack from several angles. Ferrin and Marigold put up a good fight, but according to the Spectrum, Yahto had already been stronger than them while they were alive. Their zombified forms were no match and he swiftly decapitated them. Their bodies scrambled for their heads and Yahto knelt.

"Wind Mother and Earth Father, hear me," he prayed. "Cleanse these souls so they may return to their place in the Eternal Cycle." With hands glowing blue, he palmed the White Hand marks on their shoulders. The mark blazed and broke, shattering into fragmented Light.

"They will rise no more," Yahto said. "Let us continue. The real fight doesn't begin until we get to Gavin. And the things between him and us will make you wish you'd stayed in the Fields."


"Probatios, today for your studies, I will teach you of the Legion's first High Praetor, Taura Victor Primus. Yes, Flavus?"

"The first High Praetor was a Primus?"

"Yes, young wolf. You see, many years ago, the world faced a dire war with our greatest enemy: the Darkness known as Grimm. The fighting engulfed our world, yet it stemmed from a single point in Vale. A small group of individuals from all around the world travelled and fought. They helped every nation in hopes that the nation would be able to then lend their aid to Vale to help vanquish the evil. Vacuo, Atlas, Mistral, Hinter, Sylvas, and Islet, this group visited them all. Mistral, at the time, was in the midst of a civil war between the Legion and the Phalanx. The Legion had no Praetor back then, and was under the guidance of a corrupted Senate. With this group's help, the Legion overthrew the Senate and one single Praetor was elected. He was the fastest, the smartest, and the brightest warrior of his age."

"If he was so great, then why didn't the Legion win the war?"

"You see, young wolf, the Praetor possessed one more skill. The most important skill of all. He was compassionate. He called off his men and met with the Phalanx and the Royal Family and there they signed the Æternal Accords. For a few years, Taura Victor Primus led the Legion alone. It was only later that he realized he needed a partner. A balancer. Someone who may or may not agree with him, to challenge him, and together, they would make the Legion great."

"What happened with the war?"

"That's the best part. When the Legion marched, Taura Victor Primus met a woman from the Atlesian Highlander army. A fiery warrior named Wilhelmina. Together, the Legion and the Highlanders met the forces of Darkness and allowed the Valic people to rally. No one knows what happened next. Well, perhaps a few do, but they're well guarded secrets. This ancient war was a great shadow on our past, but in this shadow we found the sun. A new Legion. Love. And the desire to be better. Young wolf, next time you visit the Pantheon, I ask you look upon the faces of the Hero-Gods. For there, you will find your brother and forbearer. He is known as Virtus, the god of courage."


Nothing ever truly prepared one for a fight. Vids and comics and books always romanticized it, but the Praetor had not been fully ready for the smell of disemboweled men and soiled pants that came with death, nor the roar and clashing of steel on steel, the thumping of siege engine shots and the booming of cannonfire.

When a stray arrow caught Snowmane and Janus left his father's horse to die on the Fields, he knew that this was only the first battle he would see in his lifetime.

The sight on the hill was another thing. Two figures strode through the battle, untouched, unchallenged. One wore Praetor's armor, but painted in black and bearing the White Hand emblem. The other also wore Praetor's armor, but an archaic form with chainmail and ragged cloth strips that covered his decaying and ashen flesh.

Janus had seen death. His time in the Legion was not spent far from the front lines. But as his old Praetor used his Semblance to cast death around him, Janus realized it was one thing to fight Grimm. This...slaughter. this wasn't combat. This was something primal. Man on man, woman on woman. Engines of war fired on either side and the Legion's black scorpios tore apart the enemy battlements with dust tipped arrows.

And there he stood, atop that small knoll: Janus' old commander. Antonius. Brutus. Primus. High Praetor of the Legion. And he was with the enemy. He was sowing discord all around him. His former comrades confused by their once-loyal commander's void beams. The Eagles, Aurem and Argentum, circled around, pecking at the Legion. And from his perch, Brutus laughed.

"We need to bring him down," The Empress cried. She, too, had lost her horse, and her hair flowed free in the wind. She had lost her dadao and was now using her zhanmadao. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and ducked low as a scorpio bolt buried itself only feet away. For a moment, Hou Yi materialized beside her, quickly checking her over. A few meters away from them, Guan Yu had set up a kill zone, Promising Death to all who entered. His peach tree semblance blazed and around him; Legionaries rallied.

The Praetor turned back to the sight of his old mentor and the legendary Praetor. Janus screamed and charged, his crimson cape flapping behind him, Rubicon and Tiber cutting through any and all opposition. Then there was Taura Victor Primus, his skin the color of ash and earth, coated in a thick, green Prismatic aura, using the bastard sword Romus to clear entire squadrons at once. Janus leapt over the blade, coming down on it to wrench it from the reanimated hero's clutches. "The honored dead should stay dead," he growled as he stabbed the man through his heart. Victor didn't flinch and Janus dodged back, swinging Tiber as hard as he could. Victor did a full spin before Janus planted his foot in the man's ribcage. White glassy eyes gazed into Janus from the ground and Janus brought Rubicon down into those dead eyes. Victor twitched then stilled. The White Hand mark on his shoulder dimmed and faded. Janus had just enough time to turn as Brutus slammed his full body weight into the boy. The Praetor's plumed helm went flying and Janus tumbled for a moment, and then righted himself.

"Et tu, Brute?" he called out, panting as blood trickled from a small wound on his forehead. His curly black hair matted with sweat and plastered to his head.

"Oh Janus. So promising. So young. So misguided. The Legion is doomed! Mistral is doomed! Join the Lord Prism! Only He can save us all!"

"You used to pray to the gods," Janus muttered. Then, with a shout, he charged forward, "Now you worship a man!"

"Don't you lecture me, boy. You don't even believe in the gods!" Brutus swung his glass broadsword in a wide arc and Janus blocked it with Tiber.

"I didn't used to, but now I know better," he grunted.

Brutus pressed close and sneered. "Shall I tell you the fate of your parents? I had them killed! Where were your gods then?"

"Go to hell!" Janus cried and slammed Tiber forward, crumpling Brutus' inferior smallshield. Rubicon twirled above Janus head before he slashed downwards but Brutus was too quick.

"Praetor!" came a cry over the roar of battle. Flavus whirled through the crowd, his gladius hacking death wherever he went. "Praetor!" The boy called again, trying to push through the mass of bodies both living and dead to get to his idol.

Brutus laughted. He'd seen it too. "Love," he said, "can be cruel." Then the void beam flew from his finger.

He fell to the ground, a hole in his head. There was no grace or honor in his death. Just a smoking corpse surrounded by red and grey soup. Janus ran to him and picked him up, but his eyes were glazed with death. He would have no final words for him.

"You know," Brutus sneered. "He reminded me of you when you were still a snot-nosed brat. Guess things don't really change that much."

Cold hands settled on Janus' armor and the ice behind him seemed to get colder. "Embrace the void," Brutus said, his hands alight with purple fire. His eyes glowed blue as the Prism Lord's power flowed into him.

"You first." Janus impaled himself with Rubicon, the four foot blade stabbed through his stomach, out his back, and up into Brutus' throat. "He didn't get any last words and neither will you," Janus said gravely.

Brutus stumbled back, clutching at the blood flowing from his wound. Finally he fell.

Janus stood and removed the blade, clutching the wound. Red was everywhere. All he could see was Rage. It flowed from him like blood and tears and he held it close to his heart. With eyes alight with revenge, Janus whistled sharply. Aurem and Argentum settled on his shoulders and became shrouded in the red aura as well.

They would all die, he decided.