Boy, this is a doozy of a chapter. It's almost 7000 words long (a little under half of that being a single scene), and it's easily one of my favorites so far. Hope you enjoy!


Carmine stared at his weapon, sitting untouched on his workbench. He'd been here for… how long, exactly? Hours, certainly. Perhaps even most of the day. He'd intended to spend it fine-tuning the new design, and yet intentions simply hadn't been enough to compel him to do so, buried as they were beneath a myriad of other thoughts and conspiracies.

Aspen… There was something… not right about her. He'd dissected this issue before, of course, but he'd only just been introduced before. Even with the short time she'd been on his team, though, he should have had the opportunity to make more observations and develop a stronger opinion of her. Should have, yet there was some factor to who she was that eluded him.

When she did speak, it was often in short, clipped phrases with unconventional word choices. On top of that, there was something in the way she spoke certain words that made it sound as if she didn't actually know them, as impossible as that was, not to mention whatever "vronon" was supposed to be. She'd said it meant "commander," but he was still skeptical. Theoretically, she was from Vacuo since she had come to Vale with Tawny and Mantis, and it was possible the word meant something to the people there. Come to think of it, she had seemed confused by that word as well, even before she defined it.

Truthfully, idiosyncrasies in the way Aspen spoke were hardly reason to be suspicious of her. It was the other things that raised alarms, such as the fact that she seemingly didn't use her Aura for defense. She was too fast and powerful to not have one, meaning she must be focusing it into offense and, he supposed, healing. It would stand to reason, then, that that was why she didn't need any weapons and why she was intent on making her Grimm-bone armor. He wasn't sure if such training was even possible, but it was the only credible explanation. That's not true, and you know it. He frowned, looking down at his pant leg. You just can't accept the alternative.

He'd stabbed her the day before; the blade of his knife had been covered in her blood. He clearly recalled wiping it off on his leg after she collapsed, and yet… Nothing. Within hours, it was as if he'd never done it. There was only one explanation to that, and only one conclusion that could be drawn from it. Thinking on it now, it made his blood freeze. It was impossible, yet he couldn't shake the feeling.

Standing, Carmine slid his chair in and quickly checked that he had his scroll. Thinking wasn't going to accomplish anything. He had to act, and the only thing he could do with what he had was to bring it to Ozpin. It was only a theory and he had no proof, but with a potential threat like this, he had no other choice.

As he made his way across the lightly populated campus grounds, he gathered his thoughts, putting them in an order he could present to the Headmaster without sounding like a paranoid lunatic. Within minutes, he reached the base of Beacon Tower, but he soon found he wasn't the only person visiting Ozpin's office.

A man with graying black hair stood in front of one of the elevator doors, idly swishing the contents of his mug as he looked around. Though Carmine had never met the man, the tattered red cape he wore gave away his identity. Letting out a low, growling sigh, the teen moved to join him in waiting for the elevator. The man's gaze seemed to snap to him the instant he began moving, and Carmine almost paused at the Hunter'sblood-red eyes. When he did stop at the elevator, he crossed his arms, doing his best to ignore the man who smelled strongly of alcohol.

"Here to see Ozpin?" the Hunter asked, his gruff voice setting Carmine's teeth on edge.

"I am," he replied. "Not that that's any of your concern."

The man shrugged, taking a sip from his mug. "Maybe not, but I don't think he's expectin' you." The redhead stayed silent, not rising to the bait. "Y'know, 'cause he's expectin' me."

Carmine's hands balled into fists as the elevator dinged. "Good for you. I still need to talk to him." The man grumbled to himself as they stepped into the cab, standing to the side and letting the teen press the button to Ozpin's office. As the door slid shut, Carmine could feel the Hunter's eyes on his back and did his best to ignore it. He didn't know much about the man, but he knew enough. After a few moments, the elevator rumbled to life as it began its ascent.

"You're Cordon Embry's grandkid, right?" the Hunter asked suddenly.

The hairs on the back of Carmine's neck stood on end at the mention of his grandfather's name, and he didn't doubt his fellow passenger noticed. Instead of answering directly, he chose to deflect. "And you're Qrow Branwen," he said, effectively playing his only card. He just hoped it would get the man off his back.

It worked for a few moments, the Hunter obviously surprised that the teen knew his name. "So you've heard of me?" he asked rhetorically. Carmine didn't answer. "Good things, I hope?" This time, Carmine scoffed, knowing that the few things he did know certainly did not fall in that category. Qrow made an amused sound. "Well, I could say the same of you." The teen pursed his lips, but held his silence. Fortunately, his grudging companion did the same, the only sound within the elevator being a single sip from the mug.

Eventually, the cab came to a stop and the door opened, freeing Carmine from his forced proximity with the gruff Hunter. Ozpin sat behind his desk, and it was only when the teen neared it that he turned around. The Headmaster looked over his glasses at his student. "Well, this is," his focus shifted to Qrow, who was stepping up beside the redhead, "unexpected."

Qrow held up a hand as if to protest his innocence. "Don't look at me. I didn't bring 'im."

Ozpin sighed quietly before looking back at the teen. "Mister Embry, what can I do for you?"

Carmine hesitated, casting a sideways glance at the graying Hunter. "I don't believe that he should be here—"

"May I remind you," Ozpin said, steepling his fingers together, "that you are the one interrupting." Carmine dipped his head in acknowledgement, though he didn't miss the smirk on Qrow's face as he took another sip from his mug. "Do you have something to add to your testimony regarding yesterday's events?"

The teen straightened up. "Not exactly, sir, and I don't think it's something that should be said in front of a stranger." He cocked his head slightly toward Qrow. "Especially not him."

A wry smile made its way across Ozpin's face. "Qrow is a trusted advisor. Anything you say here will be kept in the utmost confidence. Now please, continue."

Carmine fought the urge to scowl and acquiesced. "To be blunt, sir, I don't trust Aspen." The Hunter beside him snorted into his mug, muttering something about faunus and earning a glare from the redhead. "Any opinions I may or may not have on racial politics aside…" He took a breath to steady his unexpectedly fraying nerves. "…I don't think she's human or faunus."

Immediately, the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. Qrow set his mug down on the desk, and Ozpin leaned forward. "And what do you propose she is, then?" the Headmaster asked, his voice steely.

Carmine paused, simultaneously bolstered by the two men's reactions and discomposed by their sudden attention. He straightened up further. "I believe she is some sort of Grimm." His words were forced out, bordering on rushed. Qrow's expression was unreadable as he glanced down at Ozpin, while the Headmaster himself kept his eyes on Carmine. "I recognize that this sounds impossible, and that it is a serious accusation," he continued, attempting to get ahead of any further questions. "I don't have any hard evidence either, only observations of certain Grimm-like attributes."

"Continue."

The teen nodded once, obeying Ozpin's instruction. "There were a few, small things that made me suspicious at first—her inability to act properly in social situations, her difficulty forming words—but none of those are reasons to suspect her of being a Grimm." He paused at the Headmaster's raised eyebrow, but continued. "What is worth noting is that, despite her apparent lack of Aura, she has the strength and speed to rival a trained Huntsman and can heal even faster."

"How do you know she hasn't got an Aura?" Qrow asked, picking up his mug again to take another sip.

Carmine eyed the man coldly. "Because I shot her."

The Hunter didn't even give him the satisfaction of choking on his drink. "Hmm. Y'know, there are better ways a' testing Aura."

The teen opened his mouth to retort, but Ozpin spoke first. "You mentioned that yesterday during your debriefing," he said calmly. "Have you considered the possibility that she does have an Aura, but instead focuses it on enhancing her abilities, rather than defending herself?"

Carmine nodded. "Yes, sir, I have, but I dismissed the idea."

"Because it does not fit your narrative?"

Furrowing his brow at the accusation, Carmine kept his voice even. "Because it doesn't make any sense. It takes more Aura to heal wounds than to prevent them."

The man shook his head: Not in disagreement or disapproval, but in disappointment. It was a simple act that irked Carmine, and his own reaction frustrated him further. "There is still much we do not understand about the nature of Aura. From what I understand, Miss Gray was found in a desert, far from any form of civilization. With no weapons or supplies, it's entirely within the realm of possibility that utilizing her Aura in such a fashion was the only way to survive."

And just like that, the Headmaster had turned away one of Carmine's strongest points with nothing more than a hypothetical scenario. "What about the physical similarities, then? Red eyes? Black hair?" A small, indignant laugh from Qrow was the only response he got, and the teen knew he'd made a mistake. "Of course," he said quietly, responding to the unspoken comment. He sighed internally; how quickly everything had fallen apart. Taking a breath, he purged his frustrations and squared his shoulders. I suppose I only have one leg left to stand on, then. "As I said yesterday, I was able to hit her in the back with a thrown knife. After I pulled it out, I wiped the blood off on my leg, but by the time we got back to Beacon, the blood was gone."

Ozpin's face hardened, making Carmine wonder if he had struck Dust or simply made a further fool of himself. Resting his hands on the desk, the Headmaster rose to his feet. "Mister Embry: What I am about to say does not leave this room." A chill ran down the teen's spine. "You are to speak of it to no one and, if anyone asks, you know nothing about it. Am I clear?" Carmine nodded. He knew that tone of voice well enough to know what the consequences would be.

The man closed his eyes and tilted his head forward. "I accepted Miss Gray into my school because I saw something in her, something I have seen many times before: potential without direction. She has the blood of a warrior, but little control over it. What's more, she seems to be driving herself down a self-destructive path, with no regard for who she takes with it."

Carmine pursed his lips. "I'm sorry, sir, but I don't see how this is relevant."

"You are aware that she attacked Team RWBY, correct?" The teen nodded, though he didn't miss the frown on Qrow's face. "Suffice to say that outcome of their battle might have been different had Miss Rose not been able to stop her. Unfortunately, like you, Miss Rose was not aware of Miss Gray's lack of defensive Aura and… Well, I suppose you can imagine the results."

The image of a wide, gray scar on pale skin entered Carmine's mind. He'd seen it when Aspen had taken her shirt off after being introduced—it had been hard not to—but only now did he know where it had come from. "Ruby stabbed her."

Both men grimaced, but neither confirmed it vocally; they didn't have to. "When I spoke with Miss Gray several hours later," Ozpin continued, "the wound had already begun scarring over. Her regenerative ability is remarkable, but believe me when I say that she was still covered in blood."

Carmine stiffened. There was still blood? That… That didn't seem possible. Could it have still been evaporating? No, he'd said it had been hours, while the blood on Carmine's leg had been gone within a half hour. Surely, then, she wouldn't have been "covered" in blood, even after so much time. Did Ozpin just lie to me? "Are you suggesting that I just imagined—"

Ozpin held up his hand, cutting the teen off. "All I am suggesting is that Aspen needs support more than she needs suspicion. Do you understand?" The two stared each other down in a battle of wills. It was a battle Carmine had no hope of winning.

The teen broke eye contact, looking down at the Headmaster's desk. "Yes, I think I do. Thank you for your time." Without another word, he turned and walked to the elevator. As the door shut and the cab descended, he clenched his jaw. Ozpin knew that Aspen wasn't human or faunus, but he was hiding it. That was understandable; if people knew that there were humanoid Grimm capable of infiltrating one of the most respected establishments on Remnant, there would be panic.

That meant he would have to keep an eye on her. If she lost control again, if she presented a threat to anyone else… He looked down at his hand. "He's not human; ergo, he's the enemy." His fist clenched of its own accord as a cold chill ran down his spine. "Now do it."

(-)

Well, that certainly was unexpected. Qrow stood in silence as Ozpin sat back down into his chair. He'd known the Headmaster for a long time and, while he hadn't always been the most virtuous of men, he'd never done anything quite like this. That I know of, at least. Then again, that depended on whether or not the kid was right, and that Oz had lied to him. "Is it true?" he asked, knowing already that it was.

The gray-haired man sighed, turning to face out the large window behind his desk. "I trust you saw your nieces' fight?"

Qrow nodded, recalling the confused comments of the barkeeper when some random girl from the stands rushed the field and punched Yang. "Yeah. That her?"

"She arrived from Vacuo last week with a pair of Hunters. I had the same suspicions then as Carmine but, when I spoke to her, she seemed to have a genuine interest in fighting the Grimm. I had hoped that by accepting her into Beacon, I could direct her toward that."

"Except it's backfired on you," Qrow filled in, walking around the side of the desk. Sitting on the edge, he crossed his arms. "She the real deal?"

The man continued gazing out toward the horizon. "I have no doubt."

Qrow's heart sank. "Well… shit." He glanced down at what was left in his mug, shook his head, and set it aside. "So, my sister was right."

"It would appear so."

Reaching behind his back, the Huntsman pulled out his flask and stared at it. "Y'know, this is the first time in a while I've actually felt like I needed a drink." As he unscrewed the cap and took a swig, Oz turned to face him. "I s'pose this changes things," Qrow said, the soothing burn making its way down his throat.

"I imagine it does," Oz agreed, lifting his hand to cup his chin. "I expect our enemies know about Aspen as well and, if more of her kind exist, they may attempt to use them against us."

"It's an arms race," Qrow muttered. He looked up, not willing to let his earlier point go. "That's not what I meant, Oz."

The Headmaster sighed. "As I told Carmine, I trust you. I have for years, and I see no reason why this should change that."

Qrow let the words sink in. "Well, here's hoping it doesn't come back to bite you in the ass." Despite his cynical words, though, he was glad to have the man's confidence. Returning his flask to his back, he reached out for his mug again. "So, have you chosen your guardian yet?"

(-)

Grimm bones were not easy to work with. They were hard and impact resistant, yet far from indestructible. Somehow, all three of these traits worked against Aspen as she struggled to make her armor. She knew from the start that the plates would have to be modified before she could attach them to the leather base, but she hadn't considered how she would remove the excess material. As it turned out, shaping them to allow for free movement had been relatively simple, once she found the tools to do so. Even between the "bandsaw" and the grinding wheel, though, the task had still required much of her time the first day she had worked on the armor.

The problem she faced now was assembly. Chemical adhesives were not an option as none of the ones available were both strong enough to hold the plates onto the leather bases and capable of bonding to both materials, which meant the bones would have to be physically attached somehow. Rivets proved to be the solution she needed, but then there was the matter of putting the holes into the plates. A machine could do it easily enough— provided it was set to a low enough speed that it wouldn't shatter the bone in the process—but many of the pieces required holes in places that were inconvenient; these she had to drill manually.

Rhys had become even more enthusiastic on seeing the progress she had made, taking a particular interest in the rough design she had laid out. When he saw what part of the process she was in, however, he became… less enthused. |It's like watching paint dry.| While Aspen didn't understand the purpose of such a task—doing so would not make the paint dry faster—she had felt his boredom and assumed he had simply been verbalizing it. Well... signing it. Eventually, he left to get food and hadn't come back. Though her reasons for allowing him to come in the first place remained unfulfilled, Aspen didn't mind.

Lifting a Nevermore face mask up, she carefully inspected the last of the holes she'd put into it. She blew away the dust that still clung to it, subconsciously flaring her nostrils with pride as she did. Perfect. Reaching to the side, she selected one of the flanged bushings she had laid out for herself. While there wouldn't be any rotational movement to worry about, there was something about the thought of applying the rivet directly to the bone that didn't sit well with her.

As she began to press the cylindrical piece of metal into the tight fit of the hole, an external wave of excitement washed over the girl and she glanced up to the source. Through building and trees and across a great distance, she could feel the great number of humans and faunus who had gathered in Amity Colosseum for more fights. Ilex had, again, asked her to come and, again, she had declined. Even when he tried to make a point about it being the "finals," she had refused. To her, the tournament had been an opportunity to prove herself capable of becoming a Hunter-student. She had done that, so what was the point of watching others fight? In addition to that, she was already in danger of losing her status, and losing control of herself during a fight wasn't a risk she wanted to take.

The excitement from the colosseum swelled. Aspen finished pressing the bushings into the Nevermore mask and lifted the corresponding boot. Lining them up, she made a mental note of where to make the holes in—

She stiffened as the mass of emotions suddenly shifted, turning to fear, shock, and dismay. She stood reflexively, looking toward the colosseum. Something… Something was wrong.

(- - -)

"Now, for the moment you've all been waiting for! The one-on-one finals!"

Yang looked out at the cheering crowd, many of whom, she was sure, were cheering for her. Despite the calm, confident demeanor she portrayed, her stomach twisted with nervous excitement. There she was, stood before a global stage with seven other fighters. They were the best of the best, having defeated each of their challengers and trusted by their teams to lead their schools to victory. It was a tremendous burden, and one Yang wouldn't dream of letting down.

"Barty, why don't you explain the rules?"

As the two professors continued their banter and explanations, Yang looked down the line of students, silently wondering which one she would fight first. There were a few she wasn't wholly familiar with, though she had seen them fight and felt confident that she could beat them. Then there was Sun—Heh, easy.—Penny—Boy, I would hate to put Ruby in the position to choose who to root for. Then again, I am her sister.—Mercury—That would be an interesting fight.—and last, but not least, an oddly nervous-looking Pyrrha.

Out of all of them, Yang hoped she would be able to fight the redheaded gladiator. She and Pyrrha had sparred in class before, of course, but she knew that neither of them had gone all-out. The thought of a no-holds-barred duel between the two sent both a thrill of excitement and a twinge of nervousness through the blonde brawler. She didn't want to lose, of course, but if she did, she could at least take solace in the fact that Pyrrha could take the championship for Beacon.

Doctor Oobleck's voice echoed through the colosseum. "Ah, yes, yes! Now, let's see who our first match will be!"

Yang, along with everyone else in attendance, looked up at the view screens with bated breath. Two boxes blurred down each side of the screen, cycling through each of the finalists. The first one came to a stop with a ding, revealing the first fighter a mere second before the second one did the same. The blonde smirked to herself; it was if the universe had heard her thoughts and given her exactly what she wanted.

"Yang Xiao Long and Mercury Black!" Professor Port boomed over the speaker, drawing his words out.

Cheers erupted throughout the crowd, and as Yang glanced over to where she knew her team was sitting, she could see Ruby yelling something to her. Between the distance and the noise, however, there was no way she would be able to hear her. She cast one last look up at the screen. This is it. It's really happening.

Port's voice filled the colosseum again. "Would all other combatants please leave the stage!"

As the other students complied with the request, Yang quelled the butterflies in her stomach and turned to face Mercury. Even across the stage, she could see the familiar, cocky look in his eyes, and she smirked. A heavy guitar riff filled the air as they approached one another, the ground rumbling beneath their feet as the arena reshaped itself. I guess if you're going to make it a show, you might as well make it a show, she thought stopped around ten feet away from another, looking back at the crowd as a ring of lights floated into the air above them. One by one, they turned on, making sure that all eyes were on the two fighters.

Yang looked back at her opponent, returning to her calm confidence. "You better not go easy on me," she said, lifting her eyebrows and tilting her head back suggestively.

To his credit, Mercury took the taunt in stride. "You wish," he said with a dry laugh and a shake of his head.

The music began to fade, and the two squared up to one another. They each took a step forward, then another. Professor Port began to count down. By the time he got to one, the two fighter's hands were right next to each other. "Fight!"

Yang wound back and punched, meeting Mercury's boot as they both fired. The shockwave pushed her back a few inches while her opponent leapt back. As soon as his feet were on the ground again, though, he was running forward. Anticipating the kick that was to come, Yang sprang up and flipped over his head. Mercury recovered from the missed attack quickly, already turning as the brawler landed on one foot. Red flame burst from one of her gauntlets, glancing off Mercury's side as the recoil spun her around.

The two were once again in hand-to-hand range, and Yang focused on blocking the other's attacks and looking for an opening. Right-high, low, ther—no, duck. Now! Yang struck out, landing a hit on the gray-haired teen. He managed to land a hit on her as well, and they once again sent each other flying back. Springing into a handstand, Yang landed neatly while Mercury flipped into the air and came back down in a crouch.

Cocking her gauntlets, the blonde fired off several long-range shells, each one tearing up the ground where they impacted. Mercury moved quickly, using his boots to dodge out of the way and move closer. With one final blast, he propelled himself up, coming at her with a downward axe kick. Yang managed to lift her arms again, absorbing the impact on her gauntlets before pushing back up. She spun with a kick, hoping to sweep his other leg, but he used her push to help himself jump into the air. Coming back around, then, she fired where she expected him to be, only this time he had crouched down in front of her. In the vulnerable position she had put herself in, she was unable to prevent the counterattack.

Mercury's leg swept upward, catching her under the chin and knocking her up into the air. Frustrated and ignoring the pain, Yang flipped herself in midair just before she landed and, her feet barely on the ground, fired both gauntlets backward. Propelled toward her opponent by the blasts, she began firing as soon as she was in range. One, two, three, four hits landed as Mercury tried and failed to protect himself. Yang's assault only stopped as she sensed an attack coming. Turning, she brought her leg up for a high kick that matched his, but he, being the more skilled of the two when it came to using their feet as weapons, was able to draw his leg back in and knock out her supporting knee.

Yang clumsily fell into a somersault and stood, hearing the sound of Mercury's heel hitting the ground where she had been moments ago. She whirled around and crouched, both to avoid another attack and to knock the Haven student off-balance by striking the ground. He was still in mid-air, however, rendering the attack ineffectual. Landing on his hand, he used both legs to kick at her and knock her guard aside. The two rose to their feet simultaneously. Mercury spun once, twice, lifting his leg up on the second spin, trying to fool Yang into thinking he would continue the motion. As soon as she saw his leg stop and begin to twist, though, she cartwheeled. A few small pieces of debris managed to hit her as the ground exploded, but none of them were large enough to do any real damage.

In the next second, they exchanged a few kicks, none of which connected. Mercury eventually managed to throw Yang off-balance long enough for him to land a square hit on her defense. He landed in a near-split as she stumbled back, then spun himself back to his feet. Show-off. Yang grit her teeth and ran forward to meet him again.

Mercury swung at her with a mid-level kick, but she easily blocked it. Lunging forward she managed to get inside his guard and hit him with an uppercut that took them both into the air. Time seemed to slow down as Yang spun, giving her a chance, however brief, to relish in the move. She landed before her opponent and, firing off her gauntlet, elbowed him in the gut before immediately following it up with a shot-punch from her other hand. The attack sent the gray-haired teen backward, and he slipped and fell on his chest.

Getting a look of irritation from the Haven student, Yang smirked and began firing more long-range shots. Mercury managed to avoid several by backflipping away, but one quickly caught him and knocked him even further toward the edge—and over it! Ring out! Yang's heart rose as the boy disappeared from her line of vision, only to sink again as he reappeared with a boom! She pursed her lips as he flipped toward her. He doesn't give up easily, I'll give him that.

Stepping back, the blonde focused on protecting her body from several high and low kicks from her opponent. She eventually managed to get a couple of shots of her own off, but neither of them even came close to hitting their mark. Ducking beneath Mercury's leg, she brought her guard up in time to intercept another kick aimed at her head. The blow sent her sliding back halfway across the arena, far enough away for her to dodge an air Dust round the Haven student had sent skipping across the floor. Okay, that's new, she thought, eyeing the other teen warily.

With a smirk, Mercury lifted one of his legs and began firing more of the rounds, turning in a circle as he did. Dodging a couple that came her way, Yang noticed that the rounds actually seemed to be moving in circles around the arena, somehow compelled to maintain their paths. Better finish this before he has a chance to do something with them. Even as she ran toward him, though, Mercury continued firing, and it was only once she was in striking distance that he stopped. Angling her punch away from his body with his arm, he quickly pushed it the other way to make an opening for his own attack. Yang blocked the punch with her gauntlet, then the pair of kicks that followed. A third came after and, although it wasn't a direct hit, it was enough to make jumping backward the most viable option.

It was only when Mercury leapt up after her that Yang realized she'd made a mistake. Twisting himself in midair, he hit her with a kick that sent her flying back down onto the arena floor. As she bounced, the blonde looked up in horror as dozens of Dust rounds suddenly veered from their orbits and came straight at her. She pinched her eyes shut. As round after round impacted with her, she could feel her Aura draining and knew that she had lost. The thought stung the competitive fighter. She had—not deliberately—asked for this fight and now she got what—

Wait. The match hadn't been called yet. Yang glanced up at the board. Sixteen percent! She was still in the fight! Through the smoke, she could see Mercury walking away, brushing dust off himself as if he had won. Cocky bastard! Rising to her feet, the blonde drew on her Semblance in a powerful explosion of fire. That got his attention. As the boy turned, Yang smashed her fists together, making herself burn even hotter.

Mercury's eyes widened in surprise as she launched herself at him, a single punch knocking him back a good ten feet. The blonde pulled her fist back. Okay, Yang. Don't be stupid. One more hit and you're done. Charging forward again, she ducked beneath a pair of kicks, making sure to catch the third fully on her gauntlet. Rising up, she connected a left hook across the teen's chest, briefly noting the look of panic on his face. She followed it up with a right, then another left. Right, left, right, left. Mercury staggered backward under the assault, but Yang didn't stop. With a punch to the gut and flash of gray, his Aura broke. Still frustrated, the blonde hit him once more in the face, sending him bouncing across the ground on his back. For good measure, she thought, straightening up. She closed her eyes and let out a breath. Okay, maybe it was a bit much. Still…

Opening her eyes, she was greeted to the sound of cheers. She raised her fist and the arena began to descend, cementing her victory. "Yang Xiao Long wins!" Oobleck announced over the speakers, causing another burst of cheers to erupt from the crowd.

Wiping away the sweat that had accumulated on her forehead, the blonde looked down at her opponent, still pushing himself up from the ground. "Better luck next time," she said before turning to walk away.

She had only made it a few steps before she heard him speak over the sound of the crowd, his voice dark with anger. "There's not going to be a next time, Blondie."

What's that—oh, no. Half-turning back, she saw him flying at her, leg outstretched for a surprise attack. Scowling at the poor sportsmanship, Yang lifted her fist to retaliate… then stopped herself. The fight was over, and there was no reason for her to get herself involved in another, short as it would be. After her bout with Aspen she wasn't going to make that mistake any time soon. Lifting her other arm, she braced herself for the impact.

It never came. The instant "Mercury" contacted her, he disappeared from existence and reappeared a few feet away. Yang blinked in surprise. Wh—what? She looked up at him to see an equally surprised look on his face. She growled, taking a step forward. "What the hell was that?!" she shouted. Mercury's face turned to panic, and he looked to his side at someone or something in the audience.

Yang followed his gaze, only for it to be blocked by a group of Beowolves. Yang instinctively took a step back, mind whirling as she tried to figure out what was going on. How can there be Beowolves in the arena? That's impossible! Impossible, just like Mercury disappearing. This isn't real, she told herself. Forcing herself to relax, she allowed the Grimm to leap on her. Unlike before, she could feel each one as they hit her, but they still disappeared on contact. She turned on Mercury, who was backing away in fear. "What are you doing to me? Why am I—"

"Yang!"

The blonde whirled around, her accusations forgotten at the panicked sound of her sister's voice. "Ruby?" Sprinting across the arena, the red-cloaked girl had a look of panic as she struggled to outrun a dozen more Beowolves. "Ruby!" Yang began to run toward her sister, memories of initiation flashing through her mind. Weiss had had to save the younger girl when Yang couldn't get to her fast enough, but now it was all up to her.

A part of the blonde's mind told her that this wasn't right—that there couldn't possibly be Grimm in the Colosseum— but her protective instincts took over as she dove into the sea of fur and fang with a yell. "You—" she shouted, a Beowolf disintegrating beneath her fist. "—can't—" Three more of the Grimm turned to smoke as she punched through them. "—have her!" Leaping back, she fired a flare at the spot she had just stood in. Four Beowolves converged on that point, only to vanish as the Dust round blossomed into flame.

Amidst the fury of combat, a sound reached Yang's ears. It was a sound that she never wanted to hear, and one that made her blood freeze and her heart stop. The wet crunch of bone and flesh yielding to vice-like jaws seemed to last an eternity as she turned. She dreaded what she would see, knowing it could only be one thing. A Beowolf crouched on the ground, jaws latched around Ruby's chest. The girl's face was twisted into a look of abject terror, distorted by confusion and betrayal as she met her sister's eyes. "Y—Yang…?"

Blood dripped from the Grimm's mouth as it released the girl's body. Ruby's lifeless form seemed to hit the ground in slow-motion, dust bouncing up from the ground as dead, silver eyes continued to stare up at Yang. A scream tore its way out of the blonde's throat, a mix of fury and despair clawing its way to the surface. Everything burned as she threw herself forward, wanting nothing more than to tear the beast apart with her bare hands. Like all the others, though, the Beowolf disappeared the instant she touched it with barely an impact to be felt.

Yang turned to look down at Ruby, who still lay where she had fallen. She… She was dead. And it's my fault. The blonde could feel the tears burning hot as they pooled in her eyes. Ruby was practically defenseless without her weapon, and she had come to her big sister for help. How could this happen? Kneeling down, Yang cautiously reached a hand out toward the girl's still form, as if the mere act of touching her would make her disappear forever. To her horror, that's exactly what happened. Ruby faded from existence, without even a rose petal to mark her passing.

Yang couldn't bring herself to move, even as she sensed the Grimm surrounding her. Rage built up within her as she stared down at the spot where her sister—her sister!—had fallen, never to rise again. She would make them pay. She would make them all pay! One of the Beowolves began to move toward her, no more than a step, but that was all the provocation she needed. With a roar, she threw herself forward once more, fist impacting with the beast's chest with a satisfying crunch. It wasn't nearly enough. She may have been low on Aura, but she wouldn't stop until every single Grimm was dead.

Pivoting, she struck the one beside the first, feeling the give of the creature's hard skeleton as she hit it. Another Beowolf leapt on her back, one forearm wrapping around her chest as it clawed at her. Yang didn't flinch, firing over her shoulder in an attempt to remove the Grimm only for another to slam into her from the side. She screamed Ruby's name as she tried to free herself, only for something to strike the side of her head, causing her Aura to finally break. She looked up to see an Ursa towering over her, moments before darkness consumed her entirely.

(-)

Emerald slumped forward, bracing her head with one of her hands. Dizziness swept through her, brought about by her prolonged Semblance use. No, it wasn't about how long she'd used it, but how damned complex it had needed to be. Forcing herself to stand up with the rest of the students around her, she looked down at the chaos she had wrought.

Xiao Long lay unconscious on the ground, the soldier who had tackled her before knocking her unconscious with the butt of his rifle now kneeling over his comrade. The man had bravely—if foolishly—attempted to subdue the girl by grabbing onto her and received a faceful of Dust for his trouble. Fortunately for him, his helmet had taken the brunt of the damage, though Emerald suspected the medics rushing out into the arena were more for him than Yang. The remaining Atlesian Knights stood motionless as they kept their weapons trained on the blonde, uncaring of the two droids from their number that she had turned to scrap.

The thief looked over at her partner, sitting on the ground. To anyone who might've been paying attention, it would have looked like he was trying to stay a safe distance away from Yang's outburst and, to be fair, he was. Nobody was paying attention to him, however, everyone far too focused on the much more shocking and interesting arrest taking place. Mercury locked eyes with her, and she could see his scowl, even at that distance. She rolled her eyes, instantly regretting it as another wave of dizziness washed over her.

This had all been part of the plan. Not the original plan, of course, but Cinder had planned for all possible outcomes of this fight. In this case, Plan A had failed, so they'd moved on to Plan B. "If she doesn't bend to our will, we'll break her."


Had you all going there for a second, didn't I?

For real, though, I am genuinely sorry about doing that to Yang. It actually got a little hard to write for a bit, there. Whether she's better off this way is up for debate, but this really is only the first in a series of ripple effects from Aspen's involvement in the story. Not all of the effects are going to be for the better.

Other than that, this chapter was largely moving a few little things forward. Carmine's caught on to Aspen's secret and Qrow… Well, Qrow's got his own thing going on. Theorize if you like, but I'll be keeping quiet until I'm ready. Besides Yang's scene, my favorite scene was actually the one with Aspen working on her armor. The engineer in me had a lot of fun working out just how she'd go about doing that, balancing practical thinking with the way Aspen thinks.

That's all for now. At the time of posting this, though, I'm going through a bit of a hiatus in writing. If I've timed this right, it hopefully won't affect the release of the next chapter; I just want to give you all a heads-up just in case. Au revoir!