CHAPTER ONE | FIGHTING FIRE
The landing was a rough one, even for a trip by locker. The door flew open on impact and Jaune Arc was thrown clear, taking one hard and painful bounce before thudding to a stop. The world yawed as he scrambled to his feet, and his heart sank as he turned an uneven, stumbling circle where he stood, trying to get his bearings. The place was wrecked – littered with rubble and bodies, the vanishing corpses of Grimm mixed in with human and faunus and Atlesian Knight alike – but he knew downtown Vale when he saw it.
Too far away to get back, then. Too far away to help.
His fingers jittered uncooperatively as he produced his Scroll, and he cursed every moment it took him to open it and place a call. They were moments he – no, not him, Pyrrha – simply didn't have.
Pyrrha Nikos. The most amazing girl, the most amazing person he had ever met, ever would meet, and she was…
Jaune's breathing quickened as panic gripped him. She'd be close to the top of the tower by now. Close to fighting that woman, the one whose eyes had burned like the sun, who had by every indication defeated – or perhaps killed – Professor Ozpin. Jaune made a small, anguished sound as it occurred to him that if she was powerful enough to best the Headmaster of Beacon, then perhaps her fight with Pyrrha, who for all her prowess was still a student, was already over.
The calltone from his Scroll brought him back to the present, and as the recipient answered it occurred to him that even after all the time he'd spent pining after her, even after all that had transpired between Pyrrha and him, he had never been so happy to hear the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company's voice.
"Where are you?!"
"Weiss!" Jaune cried, struggling to keep his voice under control. "Please, you have to stop her!"
"What?!"
"Pyrrha! She's going after that woman at the top of the tower! She doesn't stand a chance!" Even as he said them, the truth of the words crashed in on him like a hammer. He admired Pyrrha more than anyone; never had he seen her encounter something she couldn't overcome, something too big for her. But the woman in the red dress, who he'd seen as a student around Beacon, whose voice he'd recognized from its unsanctioned broadcast at the colosseum… she was both of those things. Both and more. He'd seen it in her eyes, even before they lit up like windows into a kiln.
"Jaune, what are you talking about?" Fresh worry laced Weiss' words. "Where are you?"
"Don't worry about me!" Jaune shouted, his panic cresting. The pounding in his head intensified, his vision going swimmy, and he had to catch himself on the corner of a nearby building just to keep his feet. "Please," he said softly, sadly, the simple act of shouting having drained him. "You have to save Pyrrha."
"We will. Are you okay?"
Was he okay? Images sprang unbidden to his mind's eye, memories: Pyrrha's smile. Her laugh. The comforting weight of her head on his shoulder. The smooth, wet warmth of her lips on his, her breath ghosting across his face. The way she'd looked at him at the end, through the locker door, affirming once again that no, there was nothing he could do to protect her or anyone else…
Anger flared within him, withering and horrid, and with an impotent cry Jaune threw his Scroll down to shatter on the concrete. The throbbing behind his eyes became too much to bear and he collapsed, cradling his head in his hands as the tears began to flow. "Please… "
She was going to die. Pyrrha Nikos was going to die atop Beacon Tower, and he would never have a chance to make up for how stupid he'd been. How blind. She'd done so much for him, given so much to him, all while asking nothing in return.
Nothing except…
He could've provided that. If he'd only known, only seen, he could've provided that.
But he'd never get a chance. They'd never get a chance. And as Pyrrha, who'd by some miracle come to care for a fool like him, fought her last hopeless battle – a battle for her school, her friends, her very destiny – all Jaune could do was lie facedown in the dirt and cry.
Please…
He heard footsteps approaching, distinct amid the sounds of gunfire and battle. They were human though, not Grimm, and so he made no move to rise or defend himself. Even if it had been a Grimm, he thought dismally, he doubted he could've mustered the will to keep it from tearing him to pieces.
"Hey."
Jaune didn't answer, hoping against pathetic hope that whoever it was would just go away, just leave him alone.
"Hey there, buddy. You okay?"
But it was not to be.
"Hey."
Hands gripped him by the scruff of his hoodie, hauling him roughly to his feet.
"What?!" Jaune cried wretchedly, rounding on his accoster even as he struggled to remain upright. "What is it?! What could it possibly be?!"
"You said 'Save Pyrrha', right?"
"You… " Jaune trailed off, stricken by something in the young man's tone. "… what?"
"Just now, into your Scroll. You said 'Save Pyrrha'. Were you… did you mean Pyrrha Nikos?"
"I… yeah." Jaune wiped a hand across his eyes, his vision and head clearing further as he got a better look at who'd picked him up. Something sparked in his chest, something no rational part of him dared entertain.
"Where is she?"
Jaune had no answer for that, even as the hands that had brought him up out of the dirt shook him by the shoulders.
"C'mon, man. Talk to me. Where's Pyrrha?"
After a moment Jaune turned, looking back the way he'd come. Back at Beacon Tower, visible through a gap in Vale's skyline, that ungodly large Grimm still flying circles around it. He turned to see his accoster following his gaze, expression curiously neutral before growing hard, resolute. He'd seen the same look come over Pyrrha's face, Jaune realized, as they'd watched the woman in the red dress rocket up the Tower.
"All right, then." Jaune's accoster let him go and pushed past him, heading in the direction of the academy whilst repeatedly glancing skyward. Jaune followed suit, noting the great flock of Nevermore passing overhead, before suddenly finding his voice and calling after him.
"W-wait! Hold on a sec!"
The young man stopped and turned.
"How… " Jaune started, "how do you know Pyrrha?"
The young man dropped his gaze, pondering the question a moment, then gave his answer. He broke into a jog, cutting down an alley and disappearing from view, and for many long moments Jaune could only stare after him, mouth agape.
Up the fire escape… onto the roof...
All right. Need a big one, a fast one… you.
Come here, birdie.
Her Aura was gone.
That was the first thing Pyrrha Nikos noted as she slammed into a collapsed portion of wall, crumpling into a heap at its base. Not low, not "in the red", as she'd come to think of it after so many years of sparring and structured competition – it was simply gone. The feeling of warmth and protection she'd come to take for granted in combat had now departed entirely, leaving her cold. Vulnerable. Afraid.
How long had it been since her Aura was last broken? It had never happened during a sparring match; not once in all her tournament appearances, as a student for either Sanctum or Beacon, had her opponents managed it; nor had the creatures of Grimm, in all the times she had encountered, fought, and slain them, ever been able to inflict such damage on her.
Despite her reputation, Pyrrha was not invincible, nor did she ever once entertain the notion that she might be. But even still no foe, be they Grimm or human or faunus or otherwise, had struck such a blow against her in many years.
Not since…
The sound of a straining bowstring brought her back to the present, and her eyes snapped open to see the woman in the red dress sighting her with a glass arrow – the same that killed the previous Fall Maiden. Pyrrha swallowed the fear and surged to her feet, drawing Akoúo back and hurling it like a discus along what she perceived – hoped – would be the arrow's flight path.
Her aim was true. The woman in the red dress let her arrow fly and Akoúo was there to meet it, the parma's edge intercepting the projectile head-on and shattering it to fragments… all of which promptly melted in midair, recombined into their original shape on the other side of Akoúo, and continued unimpeded along their original trajectory.
Pyrrha barely had time to process what had happened before it pierced her ankle, tearing a cry from her throat and collapsing her to her hands and knees.
She grit her teeth as searing, burning pain shot up her leg, only intensifying as she tried to rise. Pyrrha collapsed with another cry as the ends of the arrow broke off, trapping the shaft in her leg, and in that moment she felt the fear come back stronger as well. She couldn't dodge, couldn't walk, couldn't even stand.
She was weak. She was defenseless.
She was going to –
"It's unfortunate you were promised a power that was never truly yours." Pointed footsteps approached, circling around in front of her, and a pair of fingers appeared beneath Pyrrha's chin, guiding her head upwards to meet the woman's eyes. "But take comfort in knowing," she continued, voice heinously calm and intimate, "that I will use it in ways you could never have imagined."
Pyrrha drew back from the woman's touch, her expression growing hard. She found she hated her, this woman in red, not only for what she'd done to Beacon and its students, to Vale and its people, but – perhaps selfishly – for what she had done to Pyrrha herself.
This woman was the reason she was here. The reason she'd had no choice but to accept the mantle of Fall Maiden; the reason Penny lay still, torn asunder by Pyrrha's own unwitting hand, in Amity Colosseum. This woman was the reason her destiny had become so…
So…
When I think of destiny, I don't think of a predetermined fate you can't escape, but rather… some sort of final goal, something you work towards your entire life.
Was this really her destiny? Fated to become a martyr, sent to die in a war she'd only just learned was being fought at all? Was this really the only way she could protect humanity? Would it protect humanity at all?
Or…
"Do you believe in destiny?" Pyrrha asked. Her voice sounded brittle and weak, even to her.
The woman in the red dress seemed to disagree; her eyes narrowed, face setting itself grimly. "Yes."
She then stood up, stepping back from Pyrrha and summoning her bow to her hands, and Pyrrha felt the hate and the fear fade as a sense of resignation, of finality, settled over her like a shroud. She thought of her mother, who would be left all alone back in Mistral; of all the friends she'd made during her time in Beacon; of Ren and Nora, and the girls of Team RWBY, none of whom she had any difficulty calling 'family'; but more than anything or anyone else, in that moment she thought of Jaune.
And it was the thought of him – the knowledge that he, at least, was safe – that allowed her to lift her head, open her eyes, and stare her destiny in the face as the arrow was drawn back, as the string was pulled taut.
… and he sticks the landing. Now…
To the tower. Move.
MOVE.
Ruby Rose spun, Crescent Rose singing a deadly song as its blade whistled effortlessly through air and Grimm alike.
They weren't moving fast enough. Jaune had said Pyrrha was going to the top of the tower, and several minutes later they hadn't even made it to the structure's base. The Grimm were simply too many for her and Weiss to break through on their own, and the big one overhead – that great winged monster, like something out of a nightmare – continued to circle, spawning fresh Grimm by way of a dark ooze dripping from its underside. The sight of it flying headlong into Ozpin's office, all but destroying the top of the tower with little more than a swipe from one of its wings, had only stoked the panicked fire in her chest.
Ruby repositioned closer to her partner, cutting down another Beowolf on the way. "We gotta hurry!" she called out, then turned to see Weiss already on it: the Heiress extended her hand, a glyph shimmering into being in her palm, and Ruby followed with her eyes as Weiss cast it outward at the tower wall. A series of the glowing symbols, the ones Ruby recognized as aiding movement and providing traction, appeared all the way up the side of the structure, and after staring for a moment she looked back to see her partner nod at her.
"You can do this," Weiss said.
Ruby returned the nod and took off at a run, dodging around what Grimm she could and felling those she couldn't. A quick burst of her Semblance carried her up onto the side of the tower and then she was running, fast as her legs would carry her, her partner's power keeping her feet fixed to the wall.
Please be okay.
Beacon Tower was a massive structure – taller than any on the academy's campus, taller than any in all of Vale.
Please be okay.
Ruby forced herself to run faster, worry edging closer to panic as disparate puzzle pieces came together in her mind.
Mercury faking his injury…
He and Emerald reappearing at the colosseum…
And their teammate… the same woman who'd broken into the CCT the night of the dance, who'd been with Torchwick the night she'd met Goodwitch and Ozpin, who'd spoken over the colosseum's PA…
Cinder.
Pyrrha, please be okay. Please.
Ruby at last reached the top, vaulting up and over the ledge, and the instant her feet touched down there was a voice in her ear, speaking so quickly and quietly that the words almost didn't register:
"Get her out of here."
The hollow whistle of a loosed arrow reached her ears, followed by another, smaller sound – the tinkling of glass – and as she knelt there at the edge of the tower it took Ruby a few moments to process what exactly she was seeing.
Pyrrha was down on her knees, weaponless. Cinder stood across from her, hand still drawn back from her bow, but the arrow she'd fired now lay on either side of Pyrrha, shattered to glistening shards. Neither Pyrrha nor Cinder spoke, nor moved so much as a muscle; they could both only stare, as could Ruby, at the fourth who had joined them atop Beacon Tower.
Just behind Pyrrha there stood a young man, dressed in black and midnight blue with a few pieces of worn, mismatched silver armor over top, no more than a few years older than Ruby herself. Onyx hair that faded to a blue ombre hung down past his shoulders, and though it partially obscured his face there was no missing the severe green glare he leveled at Cinder. And held before him, its tip resting on the floor in front of Pyrrha so that its broadside shielded her, was one of the biggest swords Ruby had ever seen. All dark iron and gunmetal, with the telltale signs of wear and tear and battle visible along its length, it rivaled Sage's, Yatsuhashi's, and even her uncle Qrow's weapons in sheer size.
Ruby saw Pyrrha's expression change, looking up over her shoulder at him. It happened slowly: her mouth fell open, and her eyes grew larger than Ruby had ever seen them, like she'd seen a ghost.
"Sorry." It took Ruby a second to realize he'd spoken. "Should've been more specific. When I said 'Get her out of here', I meant Pyrrha…" He tilted his head, glancing sidelong at Ruby. "… and I meant now."
Ruby stiffened as realization hit, and then she was moving. A torrent of red and rose petals cascaded across the top of the tower, threading the gap between the newcomer and his weapon to envelop Pyrrha, even as she uttered a soft no, and sweeping her along. The crimson vortex turned a tight circle, dove back over the edge, and was gone.
Cinder Fall watched them go, making no attempt to stop them. There was no need. She'd achieved total victory over Pyrrha Nikos, both physically and mentally, and the likes of Ruby Rose (or any other Huntsman or Huntress, for that matter) were no longer worth her time or effort. Especially when –
"Hey."
Cinder turned back to the interloper who'd appeared atop Beacon Tower, affixing him with a bemused, affronted stare. She had taken great care to gather as much information, to become as knowledgeable as possible, on any and all who could pose a threat to her designs; the list included students, faculty, Huntsmen, Huntresses, and many more in-between, and the endeavor had paid exceptional dividends. It was how she'd known to pit Yang Xiao Long against Mercury and Pyrrha Nikos against Ironwood's synthetic armature; it was the reason Nikos' attack on her had been so effortlessly turned aside, even augmented as it was by a Semblance as powerful as Polarity; and it was why, just now, she'd known better than to waste an attack on Ruby Rose whilst the girl's own Semblance was in play.
This one, though… she did not recognize his face. She did not know his name. And as he drew his blade – a truly massive weapon, even she had to admit – up off the ground, giving it a deft twirl that seemed conspicuously effortless, such a dearth of knowledge was enough to give even Cinder Fall, Maiden-ascendant, a moment's pause.
He'd stopped the arrow. Intercepted and destroyed it mid-flight, all before she'd even sensed his arrival.
"Eyes here," the Interloper said. "You're fighting me now."
After a moment, Cinder allowed herself a small smirk. Whether she knew his name hardly mattered, and was in fact rather poetic, for he would thus go unremembered after she had turned him to ash. And turn him to ash she would, for she had bested Beacon's Champion without difficulty, and even its Headmaster, the mighty and renowned Ozpin, had fallen before the power she now wielded. A small tremor passed through her, a momentary rush of adrenaline — this was what she had worked for, striven for. The culmination of several years' planning, coordination, manipulation, execution. The ivory tower fallen, the shining city overrun, its noble and valiant guardians brought to ruin... all by her hand. And if this was all that stood in her way – if one last, nameless Huntsman was all that kept her victory from its completion – she wouldn't leave enough of him behind to fill an urn.
Oh, how proud She would be.
"Hm." Cinder smiled wider, eyeing the Interloper as she dissolved her bow to ash. "Is that right?"
He responded by shifting into a combat stance, widening his base and bringing his sword's hilt up alongside his cheek, blade forward. Cinder cocked her head to the side, placing a hand on her hip and regarding him with some amusement.
"So you're the one, then?" she asked airily.
The Interloper said nothing, redoubling his grip on his weapon.
"Look," Cinder continued, gesturing off to the side. "Look and see."
He followed her hand with his eyes, and together they gazed out from atop Beacon Tower: out over the abandoned academy grounds, now overrun by Grimm, and across the sound to the smoking battlefield, alight with explosions and gunfire, that had been the city of Vale.
"One of the safest places on Remnant," Cinder said, her voice lilting into a dreamlike purr. "One of mankind's last bastions of light and life and hope… brought to its knees." She let her arm fall, drawing the Interloper's attention back her way.
"The walls have come down, and soon the Guardians will be overwhelmed. The Headmaster lies dead, and the Champion limps away, crippled. So I ask again," she concluded, her voice regaining its sinister composure. "Are you the one to stop it? Where Huntsmen and Huntresses, armies and kingdoms alike have failed, are you the one to succeed?"
For a long moment the Interloper maintained his stance and silence, regarding her wordlessly from across the top of the tower. Then, so quickly and fleetingly that Cinder almost missed it, one corner of his mouth quirked upward.
"Something like that."
He leapt at her, flying across the space between them with his weapon drawn back.
He's fast.
The great blade came up and down in a powerful overhead swing… and Cinder caught it, effortlessly meeting the leading edge with her palm and stopping the blow cold.
"Oh…" She sneered at the way his expression crumbled into shock. "Too bad."
No sooner had the taunt had been uttered, though, than the Interloper's offhand wrapped around her wrist, and Cinder's eyes went wide as he turned, dragging her over and slamming her onto her back. He stood over her, raising his sword and bringing it down point-first, but again Cinder stopped it, catching the massive blade with both hands, its tip hovering mere inches above her sternum.
A struggle ensued. Cinder gripped the blade tighter, feeling the metal start to give beneath her fingers, but the Interloper would not relent and bore down on his weapon, a low growl rumbling from deep within his chest.
And strong.
They remained that way for several moments, deadlocked, until Cinder at last reached inward, tapping into a power that went beyond physical strength, beyond combat training, beyond even what Aura was capable of. Her eyes lit up, the air around her erupting into a great blast of heat and light, and the Interloper was sent flying into a sprawl, sword landing several meters away with a heavy clang.
Cinder rose and turned to face him, the sneer returning to her face as he struggled to his feet as well. The Interloper's expression was one of alarm, eyes wide and unblinking as they beheld her. It was the look of a man who had begun at last to realize what he faced, to perceive the power arrayed against him: the power of the Fall Maiden. A transcendent wellspring of might, twined with the very fabric of Remnant and beyond – far, far beyond – what any Huntsman or Huntress could hope to match. Cinder watched him closely, waiting for disbelief to become despair, waiting for the moment when his resolve broke. It had happened to Pyrrha Nikos; it had happened to Amber, her predecessor as Fall Maiden; it had even, in his very final moments, happened to Ozpin.
But it did not happen here.
The Interloper's face instead set itself, cooling into a scowl… and a moment later he was moving, making a mad dash for his discarded blade.
No.
Cinder swept an arm upward, summoning a column of screaming fire in the Interloper's path, and when he managed to spin around that she loosed a second blast of flame, and a third, and a fourth. He dodged them all, leaping over and rolling under and diving into a cartwheel, planting one hand on the hilt of his weapon and coming up with it firmly in his grasp. He then skidded to a stop and changed direction, this time charging at her, blade pulled back to strike. Cinder let him come, prepared to halt his attack yet again, only to grunt in surprise when he planted his sword in the ground and used it to vault forward, driving both feet through her guard and into her face.
Sun was the only one there to meet them as Ruby and Weiss returned to the docks with Pyrrha supported between them, the rest of the students defending Beacon long-since evacuated to Vale.
"C'mon," he said urgently, motioning for them to let him take over. "Last ship's ready to go."
They were more than happy to oblige; Pyrrha was taller and heavier than either of them, and getting her back through the academy grounds while fighting off Grimm had been no easy feat. As they made their way across the docking platform to the waiting airbus, though, Ruby caught a worried glance from Weiss and nodded in kind. Pyrrha was despondent; she hadn't said a word since they'd gotten down from the tower, and nothing – neither Ruby, Weiss, nor the imminent threat of Grimm running them down – had been enough to break her sightless, thousand-yard stare.
Sun seemed to notice this as they finally reached the airbus, and as Atlesian soldiers emerged to help the injured champion on-board and administer first-aid, he leaned in close to ask what was, Ruby supposed, the most logical question: "Where's Jaune?"
"We don't know," Weiss said with a tired shrug. "He called my Scroll before the tower went down and told us where to find Pyrrha. It didn't sound like he was in any danger, but I don't..." She trailed off, looking down at her feet.
"Hey." Sun put a hand on Weiss' shoulder as they followed the soldiers aiding Pyrrha up the boarding ramp, and Ruby couldn't help but feel a spark of warmth at the smile he gave them both. "He's tough. Tougher than any of us give him credit for. Wherever he is, I bet he's okay."
Silence descended as they entered the airbus and took their seats, Ruby and Weiss on either side of a bandaged-up Pyrrha and Sun across from the three of them.
"Seriously," Sun asked after a moment, peering worriedly at Pyrrha. "Is she okay?"
Weiss glanced at Ruby, who shook her head. "I... I'm not sure. When I got to the top of the tower, she -"
"Wait," Sun interrupted her. "Waitwaitwaitwait, wait. She was on top of the tower? When that... that thing hit it?"
"I..." Ruby stammered, gaze dropping to the floor, "I don't..."
"How did she even survi…" Sun trailed off. "… whoa."
Ruby looked up to see Sun and Weiss out of their seats and staring out the airbus window, up at the top of Beacon Tower. She rose as well and followed their eyes, feeling her own widen when she saw the flashes, reds and yellows and oranges, flaring from where Professor Ozpin's office once stood.
"What the hell..." Sun murmured.
"They're fighting," Ruby said softly. She felt Weiss' and Sun's eyes on her.
"They?" Weiss asked. "Who's 'they'?"
"It's..." Ruby felt anger boil up from inside her, and clenched her fists so tightly they hurt. "It's Cinder," she said, the name coming out more forcefully than intended.
"Cinder?" Weiss asked, nonplussed. "Emerald and Mercury's teammate?"
Ruby nodded. "She did this. They did this, all of this! Cinder was the one on the loudspeakers, they… they faked Mercury's injury somehow, and Penny – ah!" She stopped short, pressing a hand to her forehead as a sudden spike of pain, white-hot and throbbing, lanced through it.
"Ruby?" Weiss caught her as she stumbled, guiding her back to her seat as she and Sun knelt down in front of her.
"I... I'm fine," Ruby said, waving them off, and it was true. As the brief flash of anger – of confusion, and hurt, and betrayal – faded, so too did the pain behind her eyes. She saw them both looking at her, worry etched into their faces, and offered them a small but sincere smile. "Really, it's almost completely gone. I promise."
Weiss narrowed her eyes at her for a long moment. "... all right," she sighed at last, taking a seat across the aisle and pinching the bridge of her nose. "But... you said Cinder was fighting someone. Who else was up there?"
"That's just it," Ruby said, slumping in her seat. "I... I've never seen him before. Not around Beacon, not on the tournament roster, not anywhere. I just... when I got to the top of the tower he wasn't there, and then a second later he was, and he –"
"Nihilus."
The three of them turned to the speaker in unison. Pyrrha still hadn't moved – hadn't shifted in her seat, nor so much as looked up from her injured ankle – and she'd spoken so softly that Ruby, for a moment, wondered if it had actually been her.
"His... his name is Nihilus," Pyrrha continued after a moment, her voice thin and fleeting. "Nihilus Nikos."
The name and its implications were like a slap across the face, and brief glances at Weiss and Sun told Ruby they were as dumbfounded as she was. A moment of leaden silence passed, and then Pyrrha elaborated: "He's my brother."
"Your..." Sun finally managed to exhale, "your brother."
"You have a brother?" Weiss asked, incredulous. "How… s-since when..." She trailed off, still too stricken to formulate a follow-up question.
"Pyrrha," Ruby started, but when Pyrrha finally met her gaze, whatever words she'd had in store died in her throat.
"Ruby..." Pyrrha's voice broke, tears spilling down her face, and the look in her eyes – fear, sadness, and despair such as Ruby had scarcely seen before – made the younger girl's throat tighten. "You have to go back," she implored, leaning forward and taking Ruby's hands in her own. "You have to help him."
"Hold on," Sun interjected, crouching down in front of them. "Pyrrha, this thing's about to take off. We can't just –"
"No!" Pyrrha's voice rose sharply, cresting in panic. Ruby drew back, surprised and scared, and Sun had to put his hands on Pyrrha's shoulders to keep her from trying to stand. "We can't just leave him! That woman, she's – she's too strong, she defeated Ozpin, she'll kill him! We have to –" She collapsed back down into her seat, fingers knotting in her lap, head on a swivel as her eyes roved about the airbus, and Ruby and Weiss shared an alarmed glance as she began to hyperventilate.
"Pyrrha," Sun coaxed, clearly struggling to maintain his own composure, "settle down. Pyrrha, please, I need to you relax, just calm down..."
"Ruby," Pyrrha said suddenly, turning back to her. "You have to help him. Please. Please."
"I..." Ruby couldn't finish, unsettled by the desperation in Pyrrha's voice, by the wide and wild look in her eyes. She'd never seen Pyrrha like this, never seen the older girl's calm, rock-solid in the very darkest of times, unravel so completely. But even still, amidst the worry and fear and doubt filling her right then, some small measure of resolve managed to make itself known. Ruby leaned forward again, retaking Pyrrha's hands in hers, and nodded, offering up the calmest and most reassuring smile she could muster. "I'll go get him. Okay?"
Pyrrha looked at her in disbelief for a moment, but then managed to smile through the tears. "Thank you," she sobbed, pulling Ruby in close. "Gods, Ruby, thank you."
The four of them were jostled as the airbus gave a sudden lurch, disengaging from the dock and beginning to rise into the air.
"I gotta go," Ruby said, pulling away from Pyrrha and rising to her feet. "Can you come?" she asked, looking to Weiss.
After a moment's hesitation the Heiress steeled herself and nodded, rising to stand alongside her. They were almost to the airbus' rear exit when Sun stopped them, dropping a heavy hand on each girl's shoulder.
"Are you two insane?" he hissed under his breath. "I don't know if you were paying attention back there, but she said Cinder beat Ozpin. Between that, and the fact that this is the last ship back to Vale, I really feel like doing this a second time might not be the best idea."
"Sun? Sun, look at me," Ruby said.
He did, face pinched with worry.
"We have to do this," Ruby said, the steadfastness of her own words surprising her. "He saved Pyrrha, so we'll save him."
"But..." Sun swore under his breath, all the fight going out of him. "You'd... you could die. All for someone you don't even know."
"We're Huntresses, Sun," Weiss said in that terse, no-nonsense tone of hers Ruby had once hated. "It's... kind of in the job description."
With that, she pulled the safety latch and the rear door swung open, revealing the docking pad several feet below. The sudden influx of outside noise alerted the small cadre of Atlesian soldiers near the front of the bus, who immediately sprang into motion.
"Hey, stop!"
"Close that!"
"Step away from the door!"
"Take care of Pyrrha," Ruby said as she and Weiss dropped down to the landing pad.
"Stop them!"
Sun ignored the calls of the soldiers, merely giving them a pained smile and a thumbs-up before pulling the door shut. Ruby and Weiss stood together, watching the airbus rise and speed off towards Vale, before turning back to the academy. All was silent now, the only sounds reaching them the distant howls, screeches, and roars of the Grimm that had overrun the campus. They glanced upwards, to the top of the tower, where flashes of orange, red, and yellow light continued to intermittently flare.
"Think we can do it?" Weiss asked, not sounding nearly as confident as she just had talking to Sun. "You really think we can beat her?"
Ruby was silent for a moment. "I don't know," she said at last. "But we have to try."
She broke into a run, headed for the courtyard, and after a moment heard Weiss fall into step behind her.
He was fast, but she was faster.
He was strong, but she was stronger.
Yet still he persisted, managing against all odds to hold his own in battle against the Fall Maiden.
Despite mounting annoyance, Cinder found herself unable to deny that the Interloper was an exceptionally skilled combatant, even for a Huntsman. Though he had yet to produce any meaningful offense against her – every swing of his great blade was either dodged or batted away with ease – she'd been similarly unsuccessful in dealing lasting damage. Despite his initial alarm at the Maiden's power he'd proved remarkably adept at combating it, seeming to instinctively know what she was capable of and how to block, dodge, or counter.
It's almost as if –
Her train of thought was derailed as the Interloper began another charge, surging across the space toward her. Cinder extended her palms and released a torrent of flame from each, sweeping them inward across the top of the tower. But the Interloper stopped short, planting his foot as fire closed in from both sides, and performed an aerial that took him over the flames' intersection and into striking distance. He twisted upon landing, yelling aloud as he brought his sword around, but Cinder bowed her head and ducked the decapitating blow without effort.
The Interloper used his momentum to spin in place, bringing his weapon around for another strike, but this time Cinder caught the blade with both hands and held tight, even as he planted his feet and began to pull. She pulled back, easily dragging him off balance and swinging him around by the sword, but he responded by stepping in closer, twisting under the hilt and catching her with a hard right hand across the face.
The blow was enough to make her let go, but only just. The Interloper darted away, and Cinder growled as fire roared from her palms, rocketing her across the top of the tower after him. He dodged by vaulting over top of her, and Cinder was forced to bring her own charge to a screeching halt, skidding to a stop just shy of the tower's edge. Frustration spilling over, Cinder planted a foot and spun, bringing both hands around in a wide arc, and with a warcry of her own unleashed a great tide of fire that swept across the top of the tower, leaving nothing untouched as it surged out across the sky.
She stood after a moment, brushing hair out of her eyes before narrowing them acidly at the sight before her: the Interloper had planted his sword in the floor and taken cover behind it, using the weapon's broad blade as a shield and weathering the blast more-or-less unscathed. Now he stood, freeing his blade from the floor and thumbing a control in its hilt, and Cinder looked on pensively as it, like so many others of its ilk, initiated a transformation sequence.
The blade split lengthwise, panels opening down its broadside to create a narrow gap and revealing that the blade was, in fact, hollow. The Interloper hit another control in the hilt, and Cinder nodded in understanding as the weapon's guard began to glow, a pale blue that radiated down the length of the blade's interior.
Not hollow, then. It's some kind of Dust reservoir.
Confirming her speculation, frigid air – chilled and made heavy by exposure to Ice Dust – began visibly seeping from the blade and wafting down to the floor.
Taking no chances, Cinder conjured a fireball in her palm and sent it streaking towards the Interloper. He widened his base, drew his sword back to swing, and upon contact with the chilled blade the fireball burst into a dense cloud of steam.
Cinder cast a second fireball, and a third; the Interloper swatted them both away, each contact hissing as the vapor began to obscure his form.
Ah… so that's your game.
She extended an open palm and, eyes glowing, released a continuous stream of flame. He lifted his blade to block and the fire slammed into it, a great sibilant howl echoing through the night as vapor erupted from the clashing of ice and fire. Cinder intensified the stream, only letting up once the entire top of the tower had been blanketed by fog so dense she could no longer see her opponent.
In the silence that descended she began walking, moving away from the tower's edge to occupy the center of what had once been Ozpin's office, heels clacking loudly on the floor. Once there she closed her eyes and waited, listening, ignoring the condensation weighing on her hair and beading up and down her body.
A muted footstep here…
A faint exhalation there…
Come, now… I'm right here…
Several seconds passed before another sound reached her ears – the undisguised rush of a rapid ascent through the air – and Cinder looked up, opening her eyes to see him descend through the vaporous canopy above, blade down.
Take your shot.
She took a single step to the side, the Interloper missing her entirely as he came crashing down to bury nearly two feet of his blade into the floor. He swore, pulling the weapon free, and turned to find Cinder's open palm in his face.
"A valiant effort," she purred, "but alas."
The Maiden's power burst forth, a concussive shout of flame that shattered the cloud of vapor and sent the Interloper flying. His speed was such that he could not right himself, his trajectory such that he couldn't reach the ground to slow himself, and Cinder watched with fiery eyes as he sailed past the edge of the tower. Time seemed to stand still for a moment, suspending him out over the abyss, and in that moment she saw his own eyes – wide with disbelief, visible even through the midnight-blue flicker of his dying Aura.
Then time sped up again, ending gravity's reprieve, and he was gone.
The whispers from the Aperture grew louder as he fell, murmuring in tongues he did not recognize but understood nonetheless. He knew better than to listen, knew what doing so would mean – he had been defeated, cast down, and had no light left to gird himself against their offering. But there was no choice to be made, no other option to be had; to shy away now was to invite ruin beyond reckoning.
The whispers grew louder as he fell.
So he did as they instructed, resigned himself to what may come, and bid the Aperture open.
Cinder turned away from the spot where he'd fallen, gazing out across the sky. The Old One, one of Her firstborn, continued to circle, feeding the Grimm's numbers on the ground; soon it and its progeny would turn their attention to the city, drawn by the miasma of fear and sorrow and wrath festering there, and once they did the Kingdom of Vale would be lost.
A muted laugh simmered up from within her, and for the first time in a long time Cinder made no attempt to stifle it.
It was done, exactly as She'd wished.
The beginning of the end… and the end of the beginning.
Then the Old One cried aloud, an eldritch shriek that echoed through the night, and there was something in its tone – something strangely reactionary, the likes of which she'd not yet heard from it – that put Cinder ill at ease. A moment later she felt it, the thing inside her resonating violently in response to something, and clutched at her bosom as the very air was stolen from her lungs.
What… ?
… behind her.
Cinder turned just as he reappeared, flipping up onto the tower's edge and lunging at her so quickly she scarcely had time to block. But she did block, getting a hand up to stop the Interloper's blade… and her eyes went wide as her arm quivered, threatening to give under the sheer force of the blow and forcing her to brace her other hand against it as well. The Interloper yanked his sword to the side, pulling her off balance, and before she could catch herself an elbow cracked her across the jaw, sending her reeling backward.
Cinder righted herself and rounded on him with a snarl, conjuring fire in her hand, only to receive a fist to the face that sent her flying, careening into one of the few stone pillars still standing atop the tower. The impact again knocked the wind out of her and left her collapsed at the pillar's base; she looked up and only narrowly managed to roll underneath the Interloper as he leapt at her, burying his blade to the hilt where she'd been moments earlier. She dodged back toward the center of the space and stopped, regarding him warily as he remained crouched at the pillar's base, sword still embedded in the stone.
How… ?
Something was different. He was different. He'd fallen, she'd seen it, and yet…
The Interloper stood, his back to her. He then freed his blade, not by drawing it from its recess but rather tearing it sideways out of the pillar, which gave and crumbled before him with a great grinding crash.
Cinder's hand returned to her chest, a vain attempt to quiet the persistent tremor within as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing, of the seemingly rejuvenated Huntsman that challenged her anew. She'd bested him as utterly as the others, his physical and tactical prowess ultimately falling short in the face of the Maiden's power. His Aura had died as he fell – she'd seen that as well, with her own two eyes – which meant a fall from atop Beacon Tower, even if he'd managed to catch himself on one of the structure's lower spires, should've been fatal.
Yet here he stood, not only unharmed from such a fall but faster and stronger – more so than even a Semblance should've allowed – for having suffered it.
But it was more than that.
The Maiden's power was a multifaceted boon: aside from the raw, monolithic strength of it, Cinder found its totality had imbued her with a slew of other, more esoteric gifts as well. Among these was the ability to, as far as she could tell, sense Aura in a manner beyond physical sight. She was at a loss for how to further describe it, beyond a faint rippling at the very edges of her perception that seemed to center on those who possessed Aura – Ozpin, Pyrrha Nikos, and now this Interloper – and vanished in perfect sync with its dying flicker.
Now, though, this ability only added to Cinder's trepidation: it told her that despite his newfound power, the Interloper's Aura had not been restored. She could feel something permeating and emanating from him, but it felt different. Unfamiliar. Wrong. Something about him had changed, something so profoundly fundamental that the proxy within her trembled at his very presence.
This quivering sensation felt different, though – distinct from when she'd at last taken the Maiden's full power. It was a response born not of hunger, but rather…
… recognition?
Then the Interloper turned to face her, and Cinder's breath caught as understanding took hold.
His eyes had gone red – not an angry scarlet or vivid cardinal, but a deeper, darker, arterial crimson – and upon closer inspection Cinder saw that his irides were rimmed in black, an abyssal corona that seemed to shimmer and shift and emit its own hellish light.
She knew those eyes. She'd seen those eyes.
"You killed her."
Cinder blinked, the words not immediately registering.
"Amber." The Interloper's voice had grown harder, sharper. "You killed her, took it from her… didn't you?"
Cinder found herself at a loss. He knew. The Maidens were one of Remnant's most closely guarded secrets – ancient powers, unknown and unknowable to the teeming masses – and yet somehow, some way, he knew.
And those eyes…
"Answer me." His words came out jagged, heavy with malice, and the proxy inside her wrenched at the sound.
"… yes," Cinder said after a time, any trace of levity long-gone from her voice. Ash coalesced in her hands, crystallizing into blades of black glass, and she gave one an experimental twirl. "She died because she had to, because a power greater than hers demanded it… and so, for the very same reason, will you," she finished, meeting and holding his crimson gaze.
"Hm." The Interloper looked down at his blade, countenance briefly tinged by something inscrutable – sadness? – before setting itself once again. "I wonder about that."
In the time it took Cinder to blink he'd closed the distance between them, several meters evaporating in less than a second. Her swords came up as his came down, and their meeting split the night like the peal of a great bell.
What followed was a flurry of fire and blades.
They danced across the top of Beacon Tower, spinning and twisting and leaping aloft, his greatsword and her twinblades coming together to form a storm of steel and glass. Cinder conjured fire, summoning it in arcs and lashes and great shrieking columns of flame, but this time the Interloper had an answer: a force unseen but no less tangible for it, reminiscent of Aura in its use but of far greater potency. She saw it when he suddenly burst up over top of her, a jump that should've been physically impossible given his wide, low stance; when he met a stream of fire with a great upward cleave that not only parted the flames down the middle, but knocked her casting hand aside; when rather than dodging a hurled fireball, or even dispelling it with a swing of his sword, he planted a foot and surged forward to put his shoulder through it, ignoring the way it blackened and cracked his armor.
It was only then that Cinder realized the truth, in all its crushing gravity: whatever augmentation the Interloper had undergone wasn't static, lack of Aura be damned.
With every exchange, every blow given and received, he was getting stronger.
The Interloper's sword came around in a wide arc. Cinder planted a closed fist on the flat of the blade and vaulted over, bringing both of her own blades to bear upon landing and unleashing a barrage of slashes and thrusts. Not one among them landed – he dodged or blocked them all before thrusting an open palm inside her guard. There was a great sound, a hollow and cavernous roar, and Cinder went flying backward, the tremor behind her bosom crescendoing as an invisible blast of force struck her square in the chest.
She flipped through to her feet and matched his subsequent charge, and they met in the center of the floor, blades locking in a desperate struggle for control. Cinder grit her teeth, bringing all her remaining strength to bear... but it wasn't enough. Try as she might, the Interloper – one hand gripping his sword's hilt, the other braced against its trailing edge – would not budge.
Damn it.
A growl emanated from Cinder's throat, followed by a high-pitched shriek from below. The Interloper glanced down, his eyes going wide as Cinder sneered at him, and they both sprang backwards as a pillar of fire erupted between them.
As the flames cleared, Cinder was pleased to see that her opponent had begun to fade: his posture had gone slack, shoulders sagging, breath coming and going in great gasps. It seemed he no longer had the strength to wield his sword with one hand, and even gripping it with two allowed the blade to rest on the ground. Whatever fount of power he'd tapped, its returns seemed fleeting at best.
Her sense of triumph vanished, however, when she took stock of her own condition and realized it was no better. Her arms and blades hung listlessly at her sides, any semblance of defensive or offensive stance abandoned.
DAMN it.
Things would be different, she fumed to herself, if she'd been fresh. At the height of her power even this one, with his mysteriously augmented strength, would've been as nothing: swept aside with no more difficulty than Pyrrha Nikos. But she wasn't fresh, nor had she been able to bring the height of her power to bear; she'd already fought Ozpin, already fought Pyrrha, and loathe though she was to admit it, this nameless, faceless Interloper had proved a far greater threat than she'd anticipated. His physical prowess continued to surprise, and his swordplay, even wielding such a massive weapon, was every bit a match for her own.
The power of the Fall Maiden was colossal, cyclopean – the stuff of legend, in a very literal sense – but it was still finite, a truth she had witnessed firsthand in claiming it. She could feel her own Aura finally waning, the limits of her power drawing near, and proud though she may have been, Cinder Fall was no fool.
If they continued like this, he would overpower her. She had to put an end to it – an end to him – before things reached that point.
Cinder forced herself to relax, closing her eyes and taking a slow, deep breath as she allowed her blades to dissipate. "You're an interesting one," she mused aloud, opening her eyes and affixing the Interloper with a pointed stare. "Very, very interesting."
He said nothing.
"So, before I end this little diversion," she continued, "I'll do you the honor of asking: who are you?"
The Interloper was silent for a long moment, expression unchanging, crimson eyes boring into her own. "You oughta know," he said at last. "Said it yourself, after all."
Cinder scowled at the cryptic answer. "What are you – "
She trailed off, breath catching as her own words came back to her.
So you're the one, then? Where Huntsmen and Huntresses, armies and kingdoms alike have failed, are you the one to succeed?
Across the space between them, the darkness in the Interloper's eyes seemed to flare.
Something like that.
Anger ignited in Cinder's chest, frenzied and frantic.
ENOUGH.
Fire erupted at her feet, an unrestrained plume that melted the metal beneath and elevated her into the air. The Dust sewn into her dress lit up as she called forth the full extent of the Maiden's power, and within moments Cinder blazed like a star, wreathed wholly in flame as the fire surged and seethed around her. Eyes that burned like binary suns stared contemptuously down on him, this Interloper who'd dared rise from anonymity to challenge her, the same grim frown she'd shown Pyrrha Nikos returning to her lips.
He returned it from below, unbowed beneath the heat, and brought his sword up in front of him. The blade opened again, and lightning – each spark and bolt blacker than midnight – began arcing up and down its length. The steady thrum in Cinder's chest intensified at the sight of it, at the very feel of it, and her lip threatened to curl of its own affronted accord. She flung her arms out to her sides and gathered the fire there, heat and light coalescing into raw, naked plasma, but before she could bring it to bear – before she could incinerate him where he stood, putting an end to his blasphemous existence once and for all – their impending clash was interrupted.
Cinder's focus wavered as a torrent of red and rose petals burst up past the ledge behind the Interloper, dispersing as Ruby Rose dropped down onto the rooftop at his back. The girl's eyes widened in awe and fear at the sight before her – powers beyond her ken, made manifest as black lightning and fire – but she nonetheless steeled herself, loading a fresh magazine into her weapon and taking aim at Cinder. A moment later she was joined by another, the Schnee heiress, who leapt onto, presumably, the last in a long series of her family's signature Semblance-glyphs before propelling herself onto the rooftop as well. She too, despite obvious trepidation, assumed a combative stance as another glyph, this one nearly thrice her own height, shimmered into being at her feet.
The situation became immediately, infuriatingly apparent, and this time Cinder made no attempt to hide her disgust. They were little more than students, little more than children, but their presence constituted a three-on-one engagement all the same. And in her current state – battle-worn, Aura low, with even the Maiden's nigh-immeasurable power on its last legs – such an engagement was one Cinder simply could not win.
She closed her eyes and forced herself to take a slow, steadying breath.
… can't be helped.
Cinder made a sweeping upward gesture with both arms, and the three before her had no choice but to recoil as the field of fire surrounding her warped and changed, becoming a great tempest, a towering cyclone of flame that enveloped her completely.
The Interloper saw what was coming and charged, ignoring the heat and light as he brought his weapon to bear. He lunged forward, bringing his blade overhead and down, and there was a blinding flash as the pillar of fire separated, cloven in two down the middle. The two halves withered and died, collapsing in on each other with a great howl… but when the light faded and the smoke cleared, there remained only three atop Beacon Tower.
Cinder Fall was gone.
Weiss Schnee uncovered her eyes slowly as the light faded, keeping Myrtenaster at the ready as she took careful stock of her surroundings. She saw Ruby standing a few meters away, rubbing at her eyes with her sleeve; across the way she saw, presumably, Nihilus Nikos, stood with his back to them; and she saw a great deal of rubble and debris, much of it charred black and some, she saw, cut cleanly to pieces. Beyond that, however, they appeared to be alone – of Cinder, she saw no sign.
"Weiss!" Her eye drew to Ruby as her partner jogged over. "Are you – "
"I'm all right," Weiss said, casting another look around. "You?"
"Mmhmm." Ruby's head was on a swivel, and she clutched anxiously at Crescent Rose, absently wringing her hands around the sniper-scythe's hilt. Watching her in that moment, Weiss' heart went out to her teammate – amid her captainship of Team RWBY and inordinate combat prowess, it was easy to forget that Ruby was only fifteen years old. Weiss could only wonder at the toll the day's events had taken on her, at the turmoil she must've been –
She's still just a kid.
She's only two years younger. We're all kids.
Blake's words came back to her suddenly and without warning, and Weiss decided that who was experiencing what turmoil was a train of thought best disembarked.
"What happened?" Ruby asked, unable to hide the anxiety in her voice. "Where's Cinder?"
"I…" Weiss shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. I think she – "
"Urk – !"
A sudden, half-strangled grunt cut her off, and they both turned to Nihilus just in time to see him fall to his knees, his sword clattering to the ground beside him.
"Nihilus!" Ruby ran to him without hesitation and slid into a crouch at his side, Weiss a mere step behind.
He knelt forward, one hand planted on the floor, the other clutched to his chest in a gnarled, clawlike grip; his shoulders heaved, breath coming and going in strained, shuddering gasps; and his eyes were pinched shut, his face a contorted, agonized rictus. Weiss initially found herself at a loss – he'd appeared fine, battle-ready even, just moments prior. Watching him, though, she began seeing signs to the contrary: the patchwork armor he wore had blackened and split in places, some of the finer filigree looking like it had melted together. Bits of his clothing had been scorched at the edges, burning the skin beneath, and it looked like the ends of his hair might've even been singed away.
He'd certainly been in a fight, one that had persisted long after his Aura broke, and as Pyrrha's panicked ravings echoed in her head – she's too strong, she defeated Ozpin, she'll kill him! – Weiss couldn't help but wonder at the kind of effort it must've taken him to even survive.
"Nihilus," Ruby said again, much softer this time. "Are you… ?" She extended a tentative hand, meant for his back or his shoulder, but he stopped her with a shake of the head.
"It's… it's nothing," he said in-between breaths. "… I'm fine."
"No, you're not," Weiss countered, vexed by his dismissiveness. "You need medical attention. We need to get you back to Vale and – "
"I said I'm fine," Nihilus snapped, abruptly enough that both girls drew back. Weiss caught a worried glance from Ruby, and wondered if she too was recalling the sight they'd seen upon reaching the top of the tower: that of Cinder, aloft and alight like the sun, and of Nihilus, stood tall against her, brandishing a blade arced with black lightning.
Black lightning…
Weiss felt a chill run through her, impelled by something she couldn't identify, but it passed when Nihilus tried to stand, only to fall back and land unceremoniously on his rear.
"I…" After several deep breaths he finally opened his eyes, and as he regarded the two Huntresses Weiss saw honest regret in them. She also, despite herself, couldn't help but note their color: the same striking, verdant green as Pyrrha's. She was still unsure what to make of it – she'd never heard Pyrrha mention any family at all, to say nothing of a Huntsman sibling – but there and then, looking him in the face, the resemblance was hard to deny.
"… I'm sorry," Nihilus finished, finally regaining some control over his breathing. "I didn't mean – it's just… my Semblance. It, uh…" He stole a glance up at them. "It really… really takes it outta me sometimes."
Before either Weiss or Ruby could ask the most obvious question – namely, what sort of Semblance could grant power on-par with what they'd seen Cinder display – Nihilus turned to the latter, affixing her with a pointed stare. "Where's Pyrrha?"
"I – um…" Ruby stiffened beneath his stern gaze, mouth working valiantly but failing to formulate an answer.
"We got her to an airbus," Weiss interjected on her partner's behalf. "She's been evacuated to Vale."
Ruby shot her a grateful glance, and nodded in affirmation. "It's all right. She's safe."
Nihilus looked from Ruby to Weiss and back again, eyeing them closely. Then his posture and expression softened, and he let his head fall forward, sighing heavily in relief. "Thank you," he said softly. "Both of you, I – "
He trailed off and looked up again, first to Ruby and then Weiss, who was taken aback by the change that had come over him: whereas mere moments earlier he'd been guarded and taciturn, Nihilus now seemed unsure, even hesitant as he glanced between the two Huntresses.
Of course, it was Ruby who realized the cause of his uncertainty first, and Ruby who moved to assuage it. "I'm Ruby," she said warmly. "This is Weiss."
"Ruby and Weiss," Nihilus repeated slowly, nodding to each of them in turn. A reserved but genuine smile spread across his face, and Weiss found herself returning it. "Nice to meet you."
He tried to rise again, wincing as he did so. Weiss and Ruby returned to their feet as well, but he waved off their attempts to help him. "I owe you two," he said upon finding his footing. "Big-time. If you hadn't gotten here when you did…"
"…Nihilus?" Ruby asked after a moment, peering at him expectantly.
But he never finished, nor did he give any indication that he'd even heard her. His countenance had sobered, and he seemed to be staring past them, over Weiss' shoulder and out past the edge of the tower.
"Hey," Weiss began, "what's wro – "
She was cut off as a great eldritch cry tore through the night. Weiss cringed at the sound – like a jagged, rusted blade scraping the insides of her skull – and when she opened her eyes she saw that Ruby, similarly distressed, had nonetheless joined Nihilus in gazing out across the night sky. Her eyes followed theirs, and her blood ran cold when she saw it: the Grimm that had destroyed the CCT, a great winged thing unlike any she'd ever seen or heard of or imagined, even in her darkest nightmares. It continued to circle the tower, passing over the abandoned academy grounds like a shadow, and even from such a distance – a thousand yards, if not more – she felt diminished by its size, weakened by its presence, sickened by the globs of darkness that sloughed from the creature's underbelly, raining down to give rise to new Grimm.
A small part of her, cowardly and irrational, wanted very, very badly to be gone from that place; gone from war and death and fire and fury, from friends-turned-enemies and monsters beyond reckoning; gone back to her home in Atlas, even in spite of its own unique horrors, in spite of all she'd done and how far she'd come, in spite of –
"Sorry about this," Nihilus said from beside her, shattering Weiss' rumination and bringing her back to herself. She turned to watch as he knelt to pick up his sword, failing to hide another wince as he hefted the massive weapon. Rather than meet either her gaze or Ruby's, though, he took a step past them, towards the edge of the tower, eyes tracking the beast as it made another pass. "But we're not done just yet."
CHAPTER TWO | DRAGONSLAYER
05.15.2021
A/N: First and foremost, welcome, and thank you from the very bottom of my heart for reading this far.
This is (as a bit of cursory research will tell you) my first-ever foray into fanfic, and was first born all the way back in Summer of 2016, between Volumes 3 and 4 of RWBY, as an answer to a simple question (albeit one that has, by now, been asked and answered to death): how might the story proceed if Pyrrha hadn't died at the Fall of Beacon? Of course, that initial question gave rise to others. If Pyrrha were to survive, how would she do it? She wouldn't, not by herself. Cinder had her beat. Someone else would have to step in. Ruby? No, that's too easy, too cut-and-dry, a simple matter of seconds. Qrow? Ironwood? Maybe even a not-quite-dead Ozpin? No. If Pyrrha's story is to continue forward, whoever intervenes must be immediately, inextricably tied to it.
So, then, who? Someone new, that's who.
Yes, this fic includes an OC with significant ties to the central plot. I realize that's going to set off a number of alarm bells for some (to say nothing of certain aspects of the character itself), and if those things are dealbreakers then there's nothing to be done for it. All I can say is that this is a painstaking labor of love, and that I've endeavored to avoid the pitfalls some might be bracing for based on this first chapter.
As I said, this fic started out as a simple answer to a simple question, but real life – work and family obligations, among other things – forced me to abandon it before it could even get off the ground. The idea never left, though, never stopped growing and changing and percolating, and in the five-odd years since has become a (more-or-less) fully-realized AU that, on the heels of Volume 8, I've decided to take another crack at.
Still here? That's awesome. You're awesome. Thank you, truly, for taking time out of your day to read this thing I've written. I hope you enjoyed it. Constructive criticism is always appreciated, so please leave a review if the mood strikes you.
As for Chapter Two, note that the date given above has a plus-or-minus period of up to 72 hours, because life can be fickle sometimes. On a related note, ISO a RWBY-literate beta reader to help make this work the best it can possibly be. If that interests you, shoot me a PM and we'll get to talking.
That's all for now. Until next time.
- O
UPDATE (05.25.2021)
Hello again, dear Reader.
Yeah, so, turns out writing and revising a long-form work like this while also buying one's first home, on top of work and other commitments, is... difficult. Moreso than I anticipated, anyway. If you see this, rest assured that this work has not been abandoned. The second chapter is close to finished, but the time needed to get it polished is time I simply do not have right now. It'll likely be the first or second week in June when it goes up; until then, your patience is appreciated.
That's all for now. Until next time.
- O