Here we go

Cover Art: Mystery White Flame

Chapter 55

Jill was a good judge of character – or of skill.

That was the only thought going through Jaune's mind as he did his best impression of a ballistic missile and struck the base of a ruined building that made up a portion of the arena. The ICJM did great work, cracking right through the supports and causing the building to topple down in a great explosion of masonry and dust. It also buried him beneath much of it, which far from be a pressing concern, actually gave him a reprieve from the polite psychopath that was Pyrrha Nikos.

Oh, he'd learned his mistake there. More fool him for trusting a Beacon Huntress to be normal. Pyrrha managed to act that outside the ring, but the second the horn sounded she'd gained this look in her eye, this competitive spark, and since then it was like he'd been fighting a demon.

"Maybe I can stay here…" Jaune said to the rock pinning him down. "This is fine. This is totally fine."

Poor rock-kun could not protect him forever, however. Shifting sounds above suggested that masonry was being torn apart and hurled aside. The large screens must have told Pyrrha that her prey was still alive and with plenty of aura left, and she apparently wasn't the kind of girl to leave a murder unfinished.

"Bloody Beacon!" he yelped. "What do they teach you lot!?"

As the last slab above him was being removed, he planted his feet against it and kicked it back into the girl. His aura-reinforced body, courtesy of Jill, gave him more strength than he expected and Pyrrha was launched away – so far and fast that he thought for a moment she might end up ring out and grant him a free win.

Foolish, really. Pyrrha Nikos managed to clamber onto the slab mid-air, angle one foot down and bring it to an early stop, skating it across the rocky ground before hopping off as if it were her chief method of transportation. Her sword turned into a gun – because really, why not have every weapon in one – and she took aim on his helpless body.

I should dodge… Jaune thought. Then, after several gunshots and blossoming pain across his body, though, I really should have dodged! Ow – fuck! More shots came and this time pain gave him a healthy dose of motivation and had him rolling over the pile of rubble Pyrrha had created with his body. Rather than check his own scroll, he looked to the screens on each side of the arena and crowd. Pyrrha was at 98%, presumably having stubbed a toe when drop-kicking him like a missile. He, meanwhile, was at 100%. Probably well over that in truth thanks to Jill, but the sensors could only tell he hadn't lost any of his own aura.

Wait, technically he was winning.

Wait… that wasn't a good thing, was it?

"You're good!" Pyrrha called out to him. "Even after all this punishment, I've not made a scratch." Her laughter was, of all things, delighted. As if this was the moment she'd been dreaming of all her life. "I guess that means one thing."

"You're going to surrender?" Jaune dared to hope.

Pyrrha's smile grew even larger. "I can finally go all-out."

Wait, what? Hang on a second. Pyrrha had been using him as a ping-pong ball for the last four and a half minutes, and she'd been holding back? If his manhood hadn't already shrivelled into a tiny chicken nugget it would have now. Instead, it tried to suck itself back up into his own body. "T-That's not necessary! I think this fight is going just fine!"

"For you, maybe. I know when I'm on the losing side."

"You clearly don't!"

Too late. Pyrrha Nikos slung her shield onto her back and stuck out her hand toward him. He wasn't sure what it was for. No one knew her Semblance, with some saying she didn't even have one and that only feeding into the awe people had for her. Apparently, that wasn't true. Pyrrha Nikos did have a Semblance – she had just never seen the need to use it. And, in a moment of complete idiocy, had somehow decided now was the time she needed to.

As opposed to, you know, kicking his ass the normal way.

"Okay, God? Gods? I know you're technically real and I know you're out there. Can you please let this just be a nice, innocent Semblance? I've been good. Ish..."

The mound of broken-down masonry shifted, and a great, grey strut – a literal support girder that had held it together – rose up into the air. It was several tonnes if anything, jagged in the middle where it had broken, and now floating in the air as if it was done with gravity. It rotated, turning slowly, until the jagged end was pointed directly at him.

Jaune sighed. "No wonder everyone turned on you assholes…"

Pyrrha sent her new javelin hurtling toward him.

Jaune dodged. Of course he did. If he hadn't, he wouldn't have been around afterwards. The arena floor was not so lucky, shattering under the impact, along with grass and turf below, and then some of the actual floor of Amity itself. The stands shook with the force of the impact, and he swore he heard Pyrrha say "oops" under her breath.

"You could have killed me!" he yelled.

"Eh. You would have blocked it."

"I bloody well wouldn't have!"

How did one go about blocking that-? You couldn't parry something the weight of a car. Swallowing his fear, he did the only thing he could. Charge Pyrrha herself. Surely, she couldn't swing that thing close to her. It was obviously unwieldy, hence her over-use of force. Jill's warnings not to fight her in melee conspicuously absent, he thrust Crocea Mors towards her face.

Only for it to veer to the side and miss by a few inches. He felt himself struggling against the force of it, like when you were trying to push the ends of two magnets together, except that these were much bigger and stronger magnets.

"Ohhhh." It dawned on him. "Magnetism."

"Polarity, actually," she said politely. "But I've never faced someone who has figured it out so quickly. You truly are a worthy opponent."

"Isn't this the first time you've used it?"

"Yes. So…?"

Then how did him figuring it out make him so good!? No one else had been given the chance! Sadly, he wasn't given the chance to point that out either, as it turned out Pyrrha had a wicked kick to her, one that struck him in the gut and sent him skidding back. He sensed more than heard the girder coming in – or maybe it was the gasps from the audience that clued him in – and dove to the side, rolling underneath it as it came crashing down on the ground like an over-sized rolling pin.

How do I fight someone who can influence metal? I have a metal sword. I have metal armour! Most of Amity is made of metal!

How stupidly OP a Semblance did she want to have? The only way to counter it was to know about it in advance and bring ceramic or wooden weapons or something, and that wasn't an option since she'd kept it secret til now. He could fight unarmed if he wanted to die. Well, die faster than he already was. First of all, he didn't have any training in unarmed combat. Secondly, Pyrrha wouldn't be held to the same standard. If he lost his weapon, she was under no compulsion to lose hers.

"How about a deal?" he offered, sheathing Crocea Mors and raising his fists. "Mano-e-mano. You and me."

"Man to man?"

"It means hand to hand! Geez."

"Oh." Pyrrha smiled politely. "If it's the same to you, I think I'll decline that offer. Don't let that stop you, however. I'm eager to see what you can do."

Yeah, he thought, gulping and charging in. Me too.

/-/

"Polarity." Ironwood sighed. "It's probably a good reason Penny was knocked out the competition when she was. Magnets are never good for computers. Did the girl really keep it a secret for so long?"

"Indeed she did." Ozpin said. "Quite remarkable. Though, I imagine, it was also out of fear that it would be considered unfair or tarnish her legacy somehow."

Ironwood clicked his tongue. It probably would do that, as stupid as it sounded. Civilian spectators and fans never truly understood that a Semblance was more a part of a person than their weapon. You didn't get the luxury of choice and handicapping yourself out of fear of how it would be seen was no fairer. Idiots, all of them. There were times when he despaired of dealing with them, especially parents of new students who knew nothing about the culture and kept calling to complain that their precious Tommy had been given a black eye. Of course he bloody had – he got arrogant and took a mace to the eye socket. Those tended to bruise.

"At least Arc is losing." Ironwood grumbled. You couldn't tell since his aura was still at 100%, but Gillian Asturias' Semblance was logged and known from her time at Shade Academy, and it hadn't taken long to dig it up. Now this was blatant cheating, but it was the kind of cheating they couldn't prove. "Fair play went out the window long before this round."

Ozpin coughed something that sounded suspiciously like "Penny" and Ironwood shot him a glare. That wasn't the same thing. Okay, so maybe Penny had processors that could calculate things far faster than any human could, and maybe she was more resilient, better trained, able to download data on her opponents in an instant and run simulations on the best ways to win a fight.

But that wasn't cheating! Not at all.

A soldier came close and leaned down to whisper in his ear. "Sir, we have a situation."

Ozpin was looking over, unable to hear but clearly curious. "What is it?" Ironwood asked. "Has Salem made her move?"

"No, sir. It's… It's Winter, sir. She has apparently escaped captivity and has reached out to us."

"Really!?" Ironwood turned away from the fight entirely, a grin ripping across his normally stoic face. Of all the news, this was the best he'd dared hope for, right alongside Salem having a heart attack. "Excellent news! Well, send a team to pick her up immediately. Or have you already done that?"

"The Ace-Ops have already collected her."

Good man, Clover. He'd known what should be done. "Good. Good. And is she well? Have they collected her safely?"

"Yes sir. Um. Winter is asking to see you, sir."

"Now…?" It wasn't unexpected and to be honest he wanted to check on his subordinate as well but leaving the tournament at this time would be both dangerous and insulting to their hosts. He was here as a diplomat just as much as he was as a General. His actions would influence how the world saw Atlas.

Which, to be fair, wasn't going well ever since Penny's reveal and new accusations that he was trying to game the system and bet money on Penny. As if Atlas would put that much effort into fleecing some bookies of a few million lien. Penny's development budget was ten times that.

"Now is not a good time," he said. "The finals could start at any moment and if I'm not here for that, tongues will wag. If Winter is unhurt then you could bring her here. I'm sure Ozpin would have no issue with that."

"None at all," Ozpin agreed, proving he'd been eavesdropping the whole time.

"That… may not be a good idea…" the soldier said. "Um. I think it's best I show you how she was found, sir. I have an image here sent by Sergeant Marrow for your eyes."

Ironwood took it without thinking, wondering for a moment if Winter hadn't been grievously injured or even tortured for information. If so, all bets of Ozpin wanting peace were off. He would never accept such mistreatment of a respected subordinate of hi-

The image opened.

Ironwood's brain fizzled.

His first thought – a thought he would take to the grave – was that Winter looked hot. It wasn't professional, in fact it was quite the opposite of that, but whatever Qrow would say about him having a heart of iron, that did not mean he didn't have the ardour of a man. The second thought, once those irresponsible impulses were pushed out the way, was that no one – no one – could see these images. Winter's reputation would be tarnished beyond repair, and Jacques Schnee might well go on the warpath.

"Oh my." Ozpin said, boldly leaning over Ironwood's shoulder. "Now that is a low-cut blouse. Glynda, take a look. Isn't that the slutty maid uniform sold online?"

Glynda crossed her arms and scowled. "I'm not sure why you think I would know."

Ironwood yanked the scroll away. "This is not for your eyes!" he said. Then after, added, "Nor mine!" Winter looked more tired than embarrassed in the photo, but Marrow's shot more than showed off how scantily it covered her body, from her bosom to her bottom, with a skirt that was honestly a stiff breeze away from indecent, and thigh-high black tights that still exposed just a little skin.

"Why is she wearing that-?" Ironwood's confusion and embarrassment gave way to anger as an idea filtered through his mind. "Did he- Did Jaune Arc-?" He rose like a mighty god, reaching for his gun and glaring out at the arena where Pyrrha Nikos was smashing the boy around. Not fast enough for Ironwood's liking. "I will kill him myself!"

"No, sir!" the soldier said. "Clover asked her – Specialist Schnee says she was unharmed and untouched in such a manner!"

The soldier's words filtered through. His chest heaved, blood pounding in his ears, but he managed a curt, "Explain."

"They feared the same upon finding her, but she dissuaded them of such a notion. Apparently, it was designed to humiliate, but nothing more. Specialist Schnee assured Clover she had not been harmed, either physically, mentally or sexually."

"Good." Ironwood collapsed with a huff. He really wished the soldier had prefaced the reveal with that knowledge, but he was too relieved to tell him off for it. "Thank goodness. Get her out of that and into something more befitting her, then have her brought here. Make sure she's given food and drink if she needs it."

"Yes sir."

"Well, this is some good news." Ozpin said once the soldier had hurried away to make the call. "A little heart attack moment aside, hm. I wonder if Miss Schnee escaped or if she was released? I suppose we'll have to wait for her to arrive to find out."

"Yes," Ironwood gritted out. "I suppose we will. Apparently, she has some important news for us as well."

"Do you think it's relating to Salem?"

"I expect so." Ironwood nodded. "If she was kept around since before Menagerie then she must have heard something of their motivations. Winter is too clever not to have spent her time listening in on them. I trust she will have valuable intel for us."

"Then let us hope she arrives soon."

/-/

"We surrender! We surren-arghhh!"

The masked faunus collapsed back with Neo's sword through his chest and his lifeblood spilling across the grass. The diminutive girl stepped on his chest and wrenched the blade out, then cleaned it on her sleeve with a smug little smile.

White Fang member cried out as they were cut down left and right. Of all the most bloodthirsty among them, Neo was surprised to see that it was the other White Fang who were reaping the highest body count. Apparently, they didn't appreciate being sent to Mountain Glenn and abandoned to die, and they weren't afraid to show it.

That only went to show what Roman said – treat your mooks well, because the mook of today could be the crime boss of tomorrow. Or in this case, don't leave dangerous terrorists out to dry. Really, the fanatical way these faunus loyal to Salem fought was actually rather appealing to Neo. Brutal, but spiritual, ruthless, yet meaningful. It was like they'd turned violence into a form of worship.

Now that was her kind of religion. Maybe she should ask Tyrian for a pamphlet.

"You can't do this!" one of the White Fang, the bad White Fang, yelled. "Traitors – betrayers! You would cut down your own kind!?"

"You're not my kind." Vernal said as she cut said faunus down. "Also, less bitching and more fighting. Where's this Adam guy? I was hoping for a real fight. Oi, I call dibbs!"

Neo stamped her foot down angrily and pointed to her lips.

"Hey. Not my fault you can't speak."

Insensitive! Neo would make sure to give Roman the puppy-dog eyes later, and maybe he'd convince Vernal she should surrender her right to first kill of this Adam guy to her in apology. Probably not. It was looking like Adam would be the only good fight around, since the rest of these faunus, few as they numbered, were next to useless.

"You can't stop us!" one yelled. "You're too late! Adam has already left, and he's taken the dust and Grimm with him!" He burst out laughing, the kind of hysterical `I'm gonna die` laughter. "It's too late! The world will see just how far we'll go. They won't be able to ignore us now – it'll be war. Human against faunus, and all you faunus who meekly tried to hide away won't have a choice but to fight!"

"Wait." Vernal said. She was pouting. "So, Adam isn't here…?"

"Fucker!" Ilia and Mercury shouted as one. "He's gone for Blake! I'll save her! You'll save her-? No, I'll- stop mimicking me! You're stupid. No, you're stupid!"

Neo sighed. She'd thought this camp looked a little too small for a real fight, especially since there weren't any containers left like there was supposed to be. She'd have pointed that out if she had a functioning set of vocal cords, but she'd sort of assumed someone else would notice and bring it up. Oh well. Not everyone could be as smart, attractive and kick ass as her.

"It looks like the attack will begin early." Hazel rumbled.

"Then Salem is in danger?" Emerald asked.

"Ha. Oh, you're serious." He cleared his throat. "Salem has Tyrian, and Tyrian will carve his way through ten thousand Grimm if it means protecting her. The White Fang won't mean much against him, not to mention all those huntsmen and huntresses competing or attending, then Ironwood's forces and even Ozpin himself."

"We should still get back there." Roman pointed out. "If only so Tyrian doesn't claim all the glory."

"And so Adam doesn't hurt Blake!"

"Yes, and that," Roman said, rolling his eyes. "Alright, boys," he shouted to their faunus. "We're shipping up to move out. Round up the baddies and get to killing them."

"What!?" a prisoner screamed. "You can't do that! We've surrendered. You're supposed to take us to the police!"

"We are…?"

"Yes! You… You're the good guys…"

"We are!?" Roman asked again, louder. He looked around, noting the numerous psychopaths, sociopaths and every other version that made up their fun little group. Neo giggled cutely and silently. "Well, hate to break it to you, kiddos, but you might have pegged us wrong. And let me tell you, no one – no one – pegs Roman Torchwick and lives to tell the tale."

Neo watched the White Fang be executed with glee. It was cruel, sure, but they wanted to release Grimm on innocent people, which was both cruel and lazy. Seriously, innocent people were super easy to kill, and it was pretty pathetic they wanted to outsource the job.

"So…" Mercury said. "Does that mean you have been pegged before…?"

"Kid. Shut up."

"To Amity." Hazel interrupted. "Our Queen has need of us."

/-/

Fist-fighting Pyrrha Nikos. It hadn't sounded a good idea at the time, and it was looking like an even worse one a few minutes in. He'd managed to land a few blows here and there, but he didn't know much about placing them, and it turned out Pyrrha had some experience dealing with martial artists, knowing exactly how to minimise the damage and when and where to take hits. In the space of six minutes, he'd managed to chip off 4% of her aura.

It had to be a bad sign when that felt like an achievement.

His own aura was at 97%, which must have looked to Pyrrha and the audience like he was an absolute monster, and not just someone fighting with two helpings. Now, they were pretty much on an even level, and that was terrifying. Pyrrha had kicked his ass for what was essentially 103% aura – or, with more mathematical accuracy, she'd taken 51.5% of his total aura away already, while only losing 3% of her own.

This… This isn't going as I planned it to… which… to be fair… I didn't plan anything…

Okay, maybe it was going exactly as he planned it to. Or exactly as it deserved to. He couldn't fight with a sword, couldn't fight without a sword, and she was more likely to lose aura through the exhaustion of hitting him than because of anything he did. It was hopeless.

"Jaune! Jaune! Jaune! Jaune!"

Through the haze of sweat and exhaustion, he heard them. Voices raised in chorus, voices chanting his name. It pierced through the gloom and the doom, the shock of anyone here supporting him, of cheering him on, warming his cynical and shrivelled-up prune of a heart. A lonely tear ran down his eye and he chanced a look towards the stands, to where he could hear his ardent supporters lending him their strength.

"Urk."

"Jaune! Jaune! Jaune!" Team RWBY chanted with bloodthirsty glee.

"You can do it, Jaune!" Ruby called.

"We believe in you, Jaune!" Weiss echoed.

"Win!" Blake shouted. "Beat her! Win!"

"You're mine, bitch." Yang giggled. "I'll crush your head and make it pop-" She flinched as her sister elbowed her side. "Oh. I mean, win! Yeah! Win this bout and face me in the finals. Heh heh heh…"

Jaune whimpered and was almost relieved when Pyrrha caught him in the face with her shield. "I'm sorry!" she said.

"A-Are you apologising for hitting me?"

"No. I'm apologising for them."

"That's fair…"

If this carried on, she'd be the one facing them – which didn't sound so bad. Still, he'd be damned if he lost this fight in such a one-sided manner. Victory was almost certainly impossible now. As Jill had said, he was just too outclassed. Tyrian's training had made him good, but Pyrrha was beyond good. Pyrrha was incredible. Maybe with more time, with another year under his belt, he might have had a chance. A small chance. As it was, he had none.

Below 75%, he told himself. If I can get her below that, if I can just take off a quarter of her aura, then I'll feel like I managed something.

Pathetic as that sounded, taking half her aura off felt like trying to scale a mountain with his teeth. Even a quarter felt unrealistic. With Salem watching, however, and with her favour on his arm, he'd be damned if he didn't give it his best shot. With a roar, Jaune charged forward.

And bounced off a metal container that dropped out the sky in front of him.

To be fair, it struck down a full two seconds before he hit it, but he'd put his everything into the charge, which meant he bounded off it with some lovely, corrugated metal imprints in his face. "My ndose!" he cried, clutching it. "I thbink I broke by ndose! Why?" he demanded of Pyrrha. "WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS!?"

"That… wasn't me…" Pyrrha said. "I promise I didn't bring this down. Is that an SDC container…?"

The snowflake symbol on the side suggested so, but the ominous growling and banging from within really didn't fit the idea of neatly stacked crates of dust. With a sudden pop, the side of the crate closest to Jaune fell open, and numerous pairs of red eyes stared out at him.

"Grimm!" Pyrrha cried out and then glared at him. "You brought Grimm here!? I trusted y-"

The Grimm leapt out and for Jaune, snarling and trying their best to rend him in two. He rolled away, flipped onto his back and managed to get his shield in the way before the Beowolf punched a hole through his chest. The scene, and the attack on him, somewhat worked to counter Pyrrha's accusation.

"-you didn't bring them, did you…?"

"A LITTLE HELP HERE!"

"Oh. Oh, of course. I'm sorry."

A javelin slammed through the Grimm's skull and showered gore over Jaune's face. The monster jerked and collapsed over him, dissolving slowly, but still pinning him down while it did. From his position on his back, he was able to see more aircraft flying overhead, air dropping metal crates down onto the arena and even into the stands. The largest screen, the one that had showed their aura, flickered and changed to the wildly grinning face of a woman with red eyes on black, and skin so pale it was nearly white.

/-/

"The White Fang are going to attack using Grimm!" Winter yelped as she burst into the VIP box. Her chest rose and fell as she panted, and she was still for some reason wearing the sexy maid outfit, having eschewed a change of clothes to sprint all the way here. "It's an attack by Cinder Fall and the White Fang. Grimm and dust in Amity…"

General Ironwood and Ozpin stared back at her, then outside at the Grimm already dropping from the sky. Too late by minutes, or perhaps by seconds, as Atlas soldiers and Vale huntsmen were already rushing to contain the Grimm and buy the audience a chance to escape.

"Just… Just thought you should know…"

"Is this Salem's design?" Ironwood barked.

"No! It's – Salem is the target! Salem and Arc!"

"Damn it!" Ironwood roared. "Can you fight, Winter?"

"I… I'm dressed as a maid…"

"Can. You. Fight?"

Winter Schnee looked at all the innocents outside who would be relying on her and heaved a long, world-weary, sigh. There was no chance this didn't make the front page of every newspaper in Atlas, but the alternative was leaving people to die. "I can fight, sir."

"I will return to Beacon." Ozpin said. "I fear they may not be the only target of this. Glynda, look after things in my absence. Winter." He nodded. "Nice outfit."

"With all due respect, sir, choke and die."

The storms are even worse now. Yikes. Loads of electric tape to keep horses from trying to break into other fields and hurting themselves on the fences has been blown over and I had to turn it all off. Some of it was cut in half by the wind somehow, so I was like "Oh, that means no current and I can touch it, right?" No. Still a current somehow. Luckily, we use electric tape with no voltage so it's just a funny shock that startles and doesn't hurt, but it still made me yelp in surprise.

Maybe it was still active because the tape had touched the ground and was thus grounded? I don't know, though I expect my physics teacher would shake her head at my memory for not knowing.

Next Chapter: 28th February

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur