"The compost left behind by Colony Grimm is extremely fertile. Unnaturally so. You'll be entering a land of brand new growth and then leaving behind a land already changed. The further into the affected land you go, the harder it will be for you to remember your mission. You two need to be each other's reminders. At no point should you let the other out of your sight."

Cordovan had prepared as much as she could, but her words left them with more concern than comfort.

"You have to understand," she said, "that even if she is still alive out there, she's been at the epicenter of the outbreak for some time. Her memory won't return so easily as ours. It may hurt, but you need to expect to be treated as hostiles."

Weiss and Blake nodded their heads like they understood, but they did not. That or they didn't want to, but the distinction mattered little.

"If it comes down to it, you must be prepared to do what must be done to complete your mission. She may be your friend, but you can't let her affliction be the difference between one lost Huntress and three."

But were they not already three lost Huntresses?

Images of the Golden One flashed through her mind. She could not let the memory slip away like the rest did under the weight of the moss that hung heavy on her shoulders. It had become hard to tell if the landscape was really so changed that she couldn't recognize it, or if she had just forgotten that it was always this overgrown.

Though the haze still clouded her mind, making murky her thoughts and oily her memories, the image of dazzling blonde hair illuminated her path. Direction was given to the Warrior once more after so long and she sought to escape the Mosslands to find what lay beyond the fungi and vines that held her down.

Preparations were to be made. She thought first to make shelter and rest before the journey. The Warrior couldn't stand another sleepless night of feeling the growth attempt to take her like it did the Green One. An elevated structure could at least give the moss and rot a delay before it would reach her as it always did.

The buildings of the town that once stood there were now little more than dust and rubble, but the stones and foundations stood the test of the rot well enough to be recognizable. The Warrior chose the one that stood the tallest and set to building up the best shelter she could manage.

It was a small step towards finding herself again, but progress would be had at whatever pace it took. The Warrior would be free again and she would find the Golden One that haunted what remained of her dreams.

On the precipice of Spring, the sun hung higher and shined hotter now than the months before. As she and Blake trudged along muddy roads, Weiss had begun to regret at least a few of the lavish meals she'd been eating. Those extra pounds had been nice when she was spending her days lazing about by foggy windows in the winter while sipping hot tea, but not so nice when faced with a seemingly unending road.

Far from the cloudy and gray city of Argus, the rain that fell so often turned instead to a hot moisture that hung heavy in the air sticking to everything it touched. Weiss' skin grew sticky and hot in the humidity and the dark grey dress she wore clung wet to stomach. Every step she took peeled it away from skin before settling back against her again. She had a black jacket that she'd thought looked nice with the outfit, but now it sat tied around her waist, rubbing her back raw where it pressed and dragged her sweat soaked dress against her skin.

In short: Weiss felt gross.

Blake on the other hand was the picture of grace. Her youth spent in the tropics of Menagerie was serving her well. The cropped black shirt and tight jeans hugged her from so perfectly, accented by the sweaty skin that shimmered as the faunus moved. The nape of her neck and her shoulders shined in the sun, uncovered by her usually long, silky black hair. The skin of her head peaked out in the sun where Blake had shaved most of her hair tight to scalp.

Weiss couldn't be sure if she watched Blake so closely because of jealousy or something far less innocent. Either way, her friend's elegance served as a distraction from the heat and the sense of dread that lurked in the back of mind.

They had spoken very little since they left Argus, though that wasn't too much different than when they were in Argus. Weiss and Blake had only even seen each other a handful of times since they'd stayed, neither sure of what they'd even say to the other if they did meet. So that day that Blake had showed up before Weiss had delivered more than a few shocks to them both. Months of ignoring their problems and avoiding each other had hit them all at once.

Before Weiss could curse herself for not doing enough early on, a ringing from her and Blake's scrolls brought her back to the real world.

Blake stopped and took her scroll from her pocket, turning off the alarm she'd set. After waiting for Weiss to do the same, she said, "Weiss Schnee."

"Blake Belladonna."

"Yang Xiao Long."

"Ruby Rose," Weiss said as she plopped down on the side of the road in a patch of mostly dry grass.

This was their routine. Every 30 minutes she and Blake would say those names to keep their memories fresh. The names alone were enough to remind them of who they are and what their mission was. If either were to struggle to recall a name, they'd shorten the interval.

"Are you doing okay?" Blake asked. She took her canteen from her belt and handed it to Weiss, knowing that her friend had long ago emptied hers.

Weiss took the water and drank what was left inside. "Thanks," she said as water dripped down her chin.

Blake turned away from Weiss, looking out at the area around them. On either side of the road, fields of gray grass with the first of the spring growth mixed within extended all the way to the horizon. In the distance, they could see the line of trees that marked the beginning of the forest beyond.

With barely a cloud in the sky, Weiss felt the midday sun coming down hard onto her shoulders. Reddened skin only burned worse with the jacket to shield her. Blake took notice of Weiss' condition when the heiress winced as she touched just a finger to her shoulder.

"I could… hold your jacket over you," Blake said, "if that would help?"

Weiss scoffed. "I don't think that will be necessary. It's not like I've never had sunburn before. Have you seen my skin? I'd get a burn just from standing in front of a microwave for too long."

Blake laughed and took a seat next to Weiss. She took the canteen from Weiss, shaking it so that the single sip of water left rattled within.

"Sorry," Weiss said.

In the sea of blue above them, a lone cloud drifted lazily along its distant windy path. Weiss lay on her back in the grass with a hand held high to block the sun while she watched the cloud with some interest. The feeling of her tired legs and stinging shoulders faded away as she, for just a moment, let herself get invested in the journey of the lone cumulus. However fleeting it could be, the cloud posed a potential respite for the heiress from the scorching star that had been searing her skin all day.

Her silent rooting was interrupted by the sound of Blake walking behind Weiss. She winced as she propped herself up on her elbows and the heavy white braid that hung from her head dragged over her red shoulders.

Blake stumbled down off the raised road and into the muddy ditch between it and the field beyond. Soggy weeds and wet soil slipped underfoot as she stepped into the grassy expanse, crunching the previous season's growth as she trudged out.

"Where are you going?" Weiss asked.

Blake turned to Weiss, pointing a finger out to the distance. "There's a dip in the field out there that looks like it might be a stream. I thought I'd refill the water you drank."

"Ugh…" Weiss groaned as started to climb back to her feet.

"No, just stay there," Blake said. "I'll only be a minute. Or longer. You look like you could use the rest."

"Oh?" Weiss said. "Is that meant to be a slight on my appearance, Belladonna?"

"No! I wasn't-" Blake stumbled on slick grass as she turned to defend herself, earning only a giggle from Weiss.

"It's okay, Blake. I've known you to be many things," Weiss said as she got to her feet and followed Blake over the muddy ditch. "You may be foolish. You are certainly selfish on some occasions. Scared on several occasions more. Given to rash decision making-"

Blake reached a hand out to Weiss, who took it as she hopped over the roadside ditch. Her boots slipped on the same slippy ground that Blake struggled on, but the faunus was quick to wrap an arm around Weiss and hold her steady.

Weiss caught her breath after regaining her balance, but found herself staring right into Blake's eyes as the girl held her in her arms.

"But I've never known you to be vain," Weiss said finally.

"You could stand to be a little nicer, you know." Blake let go of Weiss, avoiding her gaze but not so much that Weiss couldn't see the smile on her face. "You don't have to follow me, I can handle this on my own."

"I don't doubt that you have the full capability to fill a container with water," Weiss said. "But you'll have to forgive me if I'm not too keen to let you out of my sight for even a moment."

"Oh yeah?" Blake said. "Do you like what you see that much?"

"Hmm," Weiss said. "Maybe I should take back that comment about your lack of vanity after all. But that is not why-"

"I know why," Blake said. "We stick with each other to remember each other. I get it."

Weiss and Blake walked the rest of the way to the small stream in silence. The stream was little more than a light trickle of clear water running along a delicate bed of pebbles and gray sand. Over the sound of the wind blowing through the tall grass around it, the noise from the running water was barely audible to Weiss as she sat atop the edge of the dip in the field.

Blake slid down into the divet the stream ran though, shoving the canteen into the fastest running sections she could find. Pebble clicked on the metal shell as she pushed the empty container into the dirt. WIth the lip only just under the water, it filled so slowly that Blake took a seat on the streamside opposite Weiss.

"Can I ask you a… personal question?" Blake asked.

Weiss looked down at Blake, but the faunus let their eyes fall anywhere but.

"Go ahead," she said.

Blake lay back in the grass, looking up at the sky. "The other day, you and I- We had a... moment."

"You could call it that, yes."

"I didn't-" Blake started. "I didn't ask you first, if…"

"If you recall," Weiss said, "I kissed back. If consent is where you concern lies."

"No- well yes," Blake said. "I guess that's part of it. But I wasn't sure if you were… you know."

Weiss raised an eyebrow at Blake's timid ask. "Blake Belladonna. If you are seriously about to ask me if I like women when I not only kissed you, but also told you that I had slept with Yang; then I am going to stab you. Even Jaune wouldn't be so dense."

"I guess that's right," Blake said with a laugh. "I just never knew before then that you also liked girls."

"Only," Weiss said. "I only like girls."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. How could you have known?" Weiss said with a shrug. "I never said anything about it. It never came up and you never asked. Neither did I, for that matter. But then you never said anything about it yourself."

"I was trying to avoid thinking about it," Blake said. "I figured it out around the time I met you all, but I was... afraid. I think. Afraid that if I accepted it so easily I would just...fall again."

"You had your reasons, as I did mine. Not one among us is fit to judge the other."

"If you don't mind me asking," Blake started, "how did you know? Or...when, I guess?"

"I sort of always knew," Weiss said. "Girls always seemed prettier, nicer, and just better than men. It seemed only logical to think they were better, but that men were always who I'd end up with because that was just how it was supposed to be. There was a period of time where I thought that my desire for their attention was a desire for them. Turns out I just wanted to show off to anyone I didn't get too nervous in front of to do something worth showing off."

"Ah."

"And you?" Weiss asked. "When did you realize?"

"Uhm… Yang."

"Yes…" Weiss said. "I shouldn't think you were the first nor the last to realize such a thing because of her. Something in the Xiao Long bloodline appears to have that effect on people. Yang, Ruby, and their father seem to have no shortage of admirers, especially within their own teams."

Weiss lay back on the grass and stared up into the sky. Just as she shielded her eyes from the sun, a large cloud drifted slowly over it. As the shadow washed over her, she let out a quiet sigh of relief as the cool darkness soothed her toasted skin.

Neither woman spoke for a while, until the sound of rustling and crunching grass alerted Weiss to Blake's sudden movement.

"Wait a minute," Blake said. "What do you mean 'within their own team?'"

Weiss sighed, letting a smile find its way onto her face. "Don't worry Blake. I already told you I have no interest in Yang."

"Ok…" Blake was silent for a moment, until she suddenly gasped. "Hang on: Ruby?!"

"Oh Blake," Weiss said. "For as smart and beautiful as you are, you really are emotionally blind sometimes."

Grass crunched under her weight as Blake stood and jumped over the stream. A shadow with cat ears blocked the sun over Weiss as Blake leaned over her, looking at her incredulously.

"Can I help you, Blake?"

"You…" Blake fumbled her words, sputtering until she said, "Ruby?!"

The heiress lifted an arm and lazily shoved Blake aside before sitting up. Her friend dropped to the ground next to her, not taking her eyes off Weiss.

"Are you really so surprised?" Weiss said as she sat up, propping herself up on her arms. "And are you really so different? Beautiful, smart, strong, admirable- who does that sound like?"

"Ruby?"

"And Yang," Weiss said. "You and I have a type, it would seem."

"I guess we do…"

Blake leaned back onto the grass, followed by Weiss. For a while, the two simply lay there side by side in silence.

Blake was first to speak again. "I feel guilty," she said. "And before you yell at me, I know I shouldn't. But...first I stayed in Argus instead of going on to Atlas. Then I ignored you for months until one day I randomly came into your room and kissed you. And now…"

"And now?"

"And now Ruby's probably out there with no memory of us whatsoever," Blake said, "yet here I am relaxing in the sun and thinking about you. Thinking about Yang. Thinking about how nice this is, even if it is just the calm before the storm."

"A relaxed mind and body is one that will win in a fight against one that's stressed and tired," Weiss said. "Also, we're never going to make it at all if we don't stop for me to rest. I am dreadfully out of shape…"

"Yeah you are." Blake said with a laugh, earning a light punch from Weiss.

"I don't feel guilty," Weiss said after a moment. "I won't ever apologize for prioritizing myself and my health. Guilt doesn't do me or anyone else any good. However I do feel anxious. Scared. Like suspended by threads with hidden fray."

"I didn't take you for the poetic type," Blake said.

"Yes well, eating wasn't the only thing I did alone in my room all these months."

"Oh?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Belladonna."

As the sun emerged from behind some clouds, Weiss climbed back to her feet. She stumbled awkwardly down the embankment and grabbed the canteen from the stream. Blake sat up and watched Weiss take a long drink. The heiress then held the container in the stream again, filling up what she'd taken.

"I wonder if I have it as bad as you do, sometimes." Weiss said without turning around.

"What do you mean?"

"Of all the things that we may find when we find Ruby, I think I worry most that she would reject me. Judge me. Blame me."

"Reject you how?" Blake asked.

"I think once upon a time I had this idea that staying in Argus with Ruby would offer...opportunity for us," Weiss said. "Maybe even a break. But now I wonder if she'll just resent me for lazing about the city while she faced evils alone."

"She won't resent you," Blake said. "I know Ruby and I didn't talk as much outside of team stuff, but I know she would never turn her back on you just because you were taking care of yourself."

"You're probably right…"

Weiss could hear Blake fidget behind her. Softly she spoke, "Ruby won't reject you, I don't think. I know she'd be lucky to have you."

"Thank you, Blake." Weiss hummed and stood up again. She walked back up the embankment and offered a hand to Blake, lifting her friend to her feet. She whispered in Blake's ear: "Though maybe you could let her find out I'm a good kisser all on her own."

With a satisfied smirk, Weiss began walking back to the road, leaving Blake by the stream. The faunus stood with a light blush on her cheeks, but it would soon be replaced with a look of confusion.

"Wait a minute, Ruby rejecting you is what you're most worried about?" Blake called out to Weiss. "Are you not worried that she might not be alive when we find her?"

A short laugh from Weiss shocked Blake. The heiress didn't even turn when she said: "This is Ruby Rose we're talking about. Of course she's alive. If we don't find her, I'll be more worried about our chances than hers."

Progress was slow and uncertain. With each day that passed, it felt like her aches grew worse and her shelter hardly grew at all. Days weighed on her like years, drying her skin and blurring her sight. Hunger and cold nights rocked the bones in her frail, withering body. She wouldn't make it anywhere without a place to recoup and heal.

Just being in the Mosslands was challenge enough for the Warrior, but even still the Shadow came to hinder her further.

Even with her failing vision, she noticed it lurking in her periphery wherever she went. It hunted her through the virgin woods, stalking her from the tree tops and undergrowth. At night it would lurk just beyond the light of her feeble campfires. Waiting. A hundred eyes glowed in the flickering light of the flames. Watching.

Whether it be scavenger or hunter, it came for her all the same.

One day, the Warrior made her first attack on the Shadow. The rusty scythe may have grown heavier in her weakening arms, but still she swung and slashed at the Shadow. Never finding purchase, she would flail the heavy weapon aimlessly at an enemy with no shape.

Her eyes would lock on the Shadow's as she struck at it, but would only find the blade stuck in the ground and the eyes then watching her from behind. The Warrior's aggressions were only ever met with evasion; the Shadow never struck back.

Each time she went after the Shadow, darkness would encroach on her vision. The aches intensified and her body grew so weak she could hardly move. Her memory would fade in real time until she awoke some time later, face down in the dirt with moss and vines growing over her.

How could she rest while being hunted? How could she formulate an attack strategy when her memory of the Shadow would just be stolen every time she got close to it? How did she get here? How would she get out of here?

Her life had been stolen from her mind, leaving her with nothing but questions and instinct. The Warrior would survive. She would survive because it was the only thing left she could remember how to do.

On the map, it would have been the farthest reaches of Epiphany. A few isolated farmhouses and barns that serviced the tiny town further along the road. Fields of wheat and potatoes between pastures where cows would be grazing on the first green grass of spring.

But what Weiss and Blake saw before them was not that.

Dark clouds loomed over the lush, green expanse. Trees grew so tall and so tightly grouped that they resembled a mountain range more than a forest. There was no noise except for the distant thunder of rain and the eerie creaking of trees moved by wind. At the edge of the forest the trees were young and the ground was covered in moss and crawling ivy that devoured anything left standing.

It may have been a forest, but it moved like a gargantuan living thing. The closer Blake and Weiss got to it, the more the woods wrapped around them. Like an infection, it grew and took over everything. What had been just a green spot on the horizon had soon become the entire horizon. A thick, dark canopy blotted out the sky, plunging them into darkness.

Vines and moss crawled up trees that swayed and moved just out of sight. The verdant wall that surrounded them shifted and moved, always encroaching on the path they walked. Mushrooms of any shape and size dotted the landscape, lending a lumpy texture to the forest.

The breeze that blew through the trees was hot, wet, and smelled of rotten things. It came in waves, offering Weiss and Blake brief moments of relief before hitting them again with rotten air.

The time between first laying eyes on the Mossland and when they first felt the moss at their feet disappeared from their minds. As their eyes adjusted to the darkness, Blake and Weiss wondered if it was truly the canopy causing it or if they'd simply not noticed the day slipping by and turning to night. Seconds became hours and hours were forgotten.

With Blake's hand in hers, Weiss couldn't stop thinking about how hot it was. Even as sweat soaked her palm, she did not dare let go of Blake. The dense humidity hung in the air, soaking the clothes of both women as they waded through the wood, walking wet with the weight of the water that they breathed in.

Moss felt soft beneath their feet, but even still the mass of the green above weighed so heavily on their shoulders that they felt that each step might find their feet sunk deep into the damp dirt. Their pace was so slow, fear filled their minds that the moss might grow up their legs and pull them down by force.

Weiss never wanted to doubt Ruby, but as her short time in the Mossland eroded at her she couldn't help but to think her confidence in her partner may have been misplaced. The quick pace she'd avoided on her journey found its way back into her step. If not for the gentle pressure on her hand where Blake held tight to her, she might find herself running into the woods with reckless abandon fueled by desperation.

"Weiss."

Blake may have said her name before, but Weiss hadn't listened. Or maybe she had and forgotten. The last time her mind hadn't felt so clouded by the Colony had been when she and Blake had stopped for water at that stream. Every second that passed from that point had seen her slipping further and further into a haze that-

"Weiss."

The heiress was stopped by firm hands clasped on her shoulders. Amber eyes stared into hers when she turned around. They studied her, darting back and forth as they analyzed her.

"It's time," they said. "Weiss Schnee."

Weiss stared back into those amber eyes, losing herself in yellowed irises. The eyes narrowed and the brows above furrowed. Finally, Weiss said: "Blake Belladonna."

"Yang Xiao Long."

"Ruby Rose."

Blake let out a deep sigh. Her hands slipped off of Weiss' shoulders, leaving Weiss wishing she'd taken longer to answer. The air may have been humid and hot, but Weiss suspected something on the strange breeze was sponging warmth from her body. Each gust of wind would sting her burning shoulders, but still leave her shivering and shaking like she would in the dark days of Atlas winters.

Blake seemed unaffected by the mysterious chill in the air as sweat soaked her clothes and poured off her lithe from. Her short hair clung to her scalp in tight curls, soaked in sweat and moisture in the air, while her ragged breathing was like that of someone who had sprinted a mile in the hot midday sun. On occasion, Weiss caught Blake raising her arms up like shielding her eyes from a sun that wasn't there.

The faunus let herself drop to the ground with a soft wet thud as she fell on the moss. From her bag she pulled out a gray cylinder that hummed and ticked in her hands. Blake peeled open a small panel on the cylinder as Weiss stood over her to watch.

Beneath the panel was a small six digit clock face. With each second that passed, the cylinder clicked loudly and turned digits in time with the complex puzzle of gears that whirred within. Another panel of four dials marked the last time they checked the clock.

"Only 45 minutes," Weiss said. "Doesn't feel like 45 minutes."

Blake shook her head as she turned the manual dials around to the current time before shutting the panel again. The muted clock went on all the same as Blake stuffed it back into her bag.

"I wish Cordovan had given us a map instead of this stupid clock," Blake muttered. "I've yet to see the use in knowing just how slow we're going."

"It's the only way we can tell if we lose any time," Weiss said.

"I know that!" Blake snapped at Weiss, but her scowl immediately shifted to a look of regret as she watched Weiss flinch. "Sorry…it's just-"

"You don't have to defend yourself," Weiss said. "I can feel it too. It really feels like…"

"Shit?"

"It feels like shit, yes." Weiss said, allowing herself a quick laugh at the thought before a solemn look slipped back onto her face. "We've only been in here less than a day and already I can feel it… draining me."

Each second that passed felt like hours spent sedentary. Each minute felt like days of hard labor. The winds brought more than just discomfort. The force of will that Weiss had to employ so constantly was exhausting. It felt to her almost like trying to think of something so complex late in the night. No matter how much thought and concentration she would put into it, the inevitable lure of sleep would drag her further and further consciousness.

"I don't know how anyone can survive longer than a day or two at most here."

"Ruby is out here, Weiss," Blake said. "She's stronger than us. If anyone could survive out here, it's her."

Blake had adopted Weiss' optimism at some point, but to Weiss it felt like she'd had it stolen from her instead. Each step further into the Mossland only made her uncertainty grow. Everytime Weiss would find herself forgetting something, even simple things, she'd feel less and less certain that she would ever see Ruby again.

Weiss let her attention go anywhere but to Ruby. A small patch of pale mushrooms on a fallen tree caught her eye as they gently swayed back and forth in the breeze. Through some rare gaps in the moss they grew, devouring and reducing what was once a small pine. Weiss watched them sway predictably in the wind, likely carrying the same spores that continued this cycle of growth and death that consumed the land.

She left Blake to rest and meandered over festering branches and shifting moss to where the dancing fungi were. From up close, Weiss was surprised to see the mushrooms were not some Grimm abomination, but nothing more exotic than the run of the mill mushroom that she'd likely eaten a thousand times in a thousand dishes. Curious, she reached toward the base of the swaying stalk of one fungus to pull it from its temporary home on the rotten log.

Just as she pinched the mushroom at its base, the rest of the bunch around it shifted in a breeze. Where the caps had been moving from left to right in almost mechanical motions, they now shifted toward Weiss. It was a very quick shift before returning to their previous motions, but Weiss noticed it all the same.

"Something's here."

Blake's terse voice came from behind Weiss, presumably where she had left her moments before. If Blake had wanted Weiss to turn around, she did not care. A new chill ran through her body as she felt the new presence in their section of the wood. She lifted her head, ever so slightly. The dark forest extended endless and empty before until the mossy floor disappeared over the distant horizon. It was no darker or lighter now than before, but certainly felt less empty.

Slowly, Weiss lifted herself up on aching knees. As she turned, a sharp tug on the muscles of her neck shot a flash of hot pain through her nerves. Her newly tired muscles protested the movement as she walked back to Blake's side.

"Did you see it?" Blake spoke to Weiss, but dared not take her eyes off the horizon before her.

"No," Weiss said. "What-"

"It's a Shadow," Blake said.

"Where did you see it?"

"Everywhere."

Her vision clouded, darkening the already murky forest. Weiss fought the sudden flash of exhaustion as much as she could, trying not to let it distract her from searching for the new arrival. Just looking around proved to be a challenge with her newfound tunnel vision, but it was unmistakable when she saw it.

The Shadow darted like pitch black liquid between the trees. Not just from one tree to another, but through all. It was like the forest had been flipped on its side and oil was poured over it. The Shadow parted and moved over, through, behind the trees like it was dumped into a pachinko machine. The way it oozed and flowed like blood through the wood nearly made Weiss gag. With each shift it made, Weiss and Blake could feel the scent of rotten flesh drift past them on the gusts it created.

Blake pressed up against Weiss, intertwining her fingers in hers and squeezing her hand tight. Though she thought that Blake had seemed to be hot before, the faunus now shivered alongside Weiss.

The Shadow's oozing drifted closer and closer to them. Though formless, they could still get the sense that it was watching them. Analyzing. Studying. Waiting. The burgeoning colossus observed them with the same curiosity that Weiss had shown the mushrooms only moments before.

"Weiss...Yang..Ruby..Blake."

Blake muttered under her breath their names, over and over again. Her hand still held tightly to Weiss', but her grip loosened more and more with each name she said. Weiss tightened her grip around the fanuas' hand, as if to keep her from letting go.

"Yang...Ruby…Weiss...Yang…"

Chills ran through Weiss' body, but not like shivers anymore. Exploratory sensations of freezing cold that roamed her skin, leaving trails of raised hairs and goosebumps behind. She hadn't noticed it before, but the shadow had moved in above them. An oppressive weight pushed down on her and she felt the pressure in every bone. Every ache and pain she had before grew tenfold in an instant; it took every ounce of energy to keep from collapsing to the mossy floor in a crumpled pile of flesh and bone.

Black, oily splotches fell to the ground around them. Silently they dropped and landed in the moss, dissolving away in a black smoke. The leftovers drifted along the wind, carrying a pungent and sterile scent with it.

The scent was immediately familiar to Weiss. It was the same ozone scent that she had smelled so many times before. An electric smell that made her skin tingle and nose wrinkle in disgust. Instinct screamed at Weiss to run or fight as the scent filled her nostrils, attempting to make her react in the way she practiced and trained for so many years.

The scent filled her with recognition and fear. It was the smell of Grimm.

The Shadow fled and the Warrior followed.

It had taken to speaking to her. Pleading with her to stop. She did not listen. Relentless in her pursuit, she did not falter to strike at the Shadow even in the depths of its mimicry.

From the depths of the Shadow, the Warrior was rocked by tidal forces that shot her around while the pressure of the inky blackness crushed her. Despite the ferocity of the putrid maelstrom, it was silent but for the voices.

The voices were stolen from her. They inhabited the thoughts that the Shadow had taken from her and were offered back to her like placation. They called her names and laughed at trivial things. They asked her questions she would never answer, no matter how mundane those asks were. Often they would just cry with her until she slipped out of the dark mass and fell onto the browning moss of the forest below.

She knew she had been fighting it somehow, but could never remember how. Each time she awoke on the forest floor, the scythe's blade would be duller than before and the rifle with fewer rounds than she recalled. Fighting the Shadow was a losing battle. Each loss couldn't even serve as a learning experience when the memory of it remained within the entity.

In the wake of these fights, the Shadow left death behind where it had previously made life. Moss dried up and became a brown carpet covered in fallen leaves from the vanishing canopy above.

The Warrior pushed her hands down into the ground, but found no purchase as her palms slid across the slimy surface of wet, dead moss. Even so, the effort left her winded. Rolling over her back, the Warrior stared up at the dense tangle of grey branches and blackened leaves overhead as her heavy breathing filled the silence.

Eventually she climbed to her feet, using the pole of the scythe to hold her weight. Struggling to keep from slipping on the wet rot of the forest floor, she stumbled through the woods in search of the Shadow.

Every joint and muscle in her body protested each move she made. Wounds reopened just as quick as her aura would heal them, leaving dark brown stains all over her body and what remained of her clothes. The tattered red cloak that hung heavy on her shoulder was littered with holes and stains. Sections were missing where it had been ripped to make bandages for hopeless wounds that could never be healed by her steadily weakening aura.

She wasn't sure how long she'd walked when it came again. The forest darkened as the Shadow encroached on the Warrior. Ignoring the screaming pain from her body, the Warrior melted into a brown mass of petals and dived into the Shadow once more.

According to the clock, they'd lost nine hours in their encounter with what they assumed to be the Colony Grimm.

Blake walked a short distance behind the fuming Heiress as she stormed through the lush forest with newfound determination. The heavy braid of white hair danced behind the Heiress as she marched forward, either uncaring or unaware of Blake.

Her hand had not left Gambol Shroud since the encounter. The Heiress might be too distracted to notice, but Blake had not felt unwatched for a while. From the corners of her eyes, everywhere she looked, she caught glimpses of the hundreds of eyes watching them. The feeling that loomed over her was one she knew far too well.

They were being hunted.

She thought not to tell the Heiress, but was certain to never let her out of her sight. Even as the Gambol Shroud grew heavy with her exhaustion, she kept it ready to wield against whatever lurked in the dark.

Under her breath, she whispered so that the Heiress wouldn't hear. "Blake Belladonna. Yang Xiao Long. Ruby Rose."

"Weiss Schnee."

Blake realized as soon as the name left Weiss' mouth that she had forgotten it.

"I forgot yours too," Weiss said, eyes still forward as she went. "If that's any consolation."

It wasn't.

They walked in silence except for their check-ins. The effects of the Colony had started to weigh heavily on their bodies. Exhaustion set in deeper with each step they took and their joints creaked and groaned with every move they made. Neither wanted to admit it, but every second they spent in the woods felt more and more like it might be their last.

Blake tightened her grip on Gambol Shroud as Weiss slowed to a stop just ahead of her. She slid the black blade from its holster, revealing a half black and half silver sword. Weiss said nothing as Blake crept up behind her, eyes searching for what stopped the heiress.

Just ahead of them in a small clearing stood a decaying structure. A crumbling base of stone supporting a rotting framework of scrap wood and tangled branches, covered in a shoddy roof of fraying cloth and warped boards.

Myrtenaster made a metallic ring as Weiss slid it from its holster. Blake followed closely as Weiss approached the structure, never taking her eyes off the forest surrounding them.

A wet cloth hung in what remained of the doorway. Weiss parted it with Myrtenaster's blade as she stepped through the threshold. Blake caught the cloth with her hand before it fell back into place. She grimaced as the slimy material slid along her hand as she pushed inside behind Weiss.

The inside of the structure was in no better condition than the outside. Moss and vines erupted through the crumbling floor and crawled up the walls. At the far wall were the soggy remains of what once must have been a makeshift bed that had since succumbed to the devouring greens that tore at it. A foul stench filled the space, emanating from the dubious sludge in an iron pot that sat atop a pile of ash.

"I should think this wasn't the average floor plan in Epiphany," Weiss said.

"You never know," Blake said. "I hear farming doesn't pull the same salary as it used to."

Weiss swatted at fallen bits of wood and cloth from the roof on the floor, her blade occasionally clicking against the stone below. The heiress' attention may have been on the structure, but Blake couldn't help but feel claustrophobic in the space. Outside she had more than a few escape routes, but inside the shack she felt hopeless she could defend herself against the thing that hunted them.

A soft gasp from behind Blake brought Gambol Shroud's blade clunking into folded position and the barrel of the pistol pointed in Weiss' direction. Myrtenaster fell to the floor as Weiss dropped to her knees. If not for the Heiress' frantic digging through the moss, Blake would have thought she'd collapsed.

"No no no…" Weiss muttered to herself as she pulled moss and vines aside.

Blake kept the barrel of her gun up as she watched Weiss pull a stained shred of cloth from the floor. Even with its faded threads, Blake recognized it instantly as Ruby's cloak. She also recognized the unmistakable discoloration of blood stains that covered it.

"No… please no…"

Something about the piece of Ruby's cloak made Blake suddenly aware of the bullet holes and blade marks all along the walls of the structure. Every instinct in her body told her to get out. Every faded drop of blood appeared a bright crimson on the walls as Blake's senses kicked into a panic driven frenzy.

"Weiss we have to go," she said to deaf ears as Weiss' shaking form stayed kneeled with the cloak fragment clutched in her pale hands.

Cat ears twitched as branches snapped in the distance outside. The familiar scent of ozone flooded the shack as a darkness blotted out the faint light from above. Blake reached out to pull Weiss to her feet, but in an instant found herself laying on the ground outside the shack.

Her nerves screamed in pain as her body registered the sensation of being thrown through the stone wall. The unmistakable amber of glow of her aura breaking was the last thing she could recall as a black mass that slithered along the forest floor rushed towards her.

Weiss stumbled through dust and debris as she climbed through the hole that Blake's body had made in the wall.

The formerly lush and green forest wilted before her eyes, leaving a brown sludge in its place. Blake was nowhere to be seen amongst the rot, but the crater from her impact still remained in the ground where it was quickly flooding with liquified plantlife.

Weiss tried to run out into the clearing, keeping her feet planted as firmly as she could on the slick forest floor. The rotting sludge flowed past her boots in weak waves. As she looked out into the forest beyond, Weiss quickly saw that the wilt was not a universal thing. A clear path of browning snaked through the Mossland ahead, leaving a trail of death in its wake.

The sludge splashed at her feet as she ran along the path of rot. Fueled by adrenaline, Weiss ignored her body's protests as she pushed her muscles to their breaking point. She called out for Blake, but she could hardly even hear herself scream over the roar of flowing forest around her.

Among the rot were more structures like the one she'd seen before, but all in varying conditions and states of completion. The structures were separated by the crumbled foundations of old houses and walls that once made up Epiphany. The town's skeleton crumbled around Weiss as she ran along the path of wilt.

A distant scream put even more urgency in Weiss' step. Glyphs appeared at her feet and she rushed alongside the wilting as it rampaged through the forest.

The screams for help became muffled and choked. As Weiss sped towards the screams, she finally caught sight of Blake being dragged along the ground by a pulsating black and brown mass. Blake sunk into the liquified forest floor underneath the Shadow. Each time she resurfaced, Weiss could see the brown sludge pouring from her mouth as she struggled for breath.

With some well placed Glyphs, Weiss launched herself forward. The crawling black mass writhed underneath her as she hopped along Glyphs, letting her momentum carry her over the Shadow.

A dark black Glyph appeared before the Shadow, which Weiss landed on with all the grace of a dancer as she swung Myrtnaster around to face the beast. With a flick of her blade, a hulking knight of ethereal light emerged from a giant Glyph on the ground. Its large hands reached out toward the Shadow, attempting to grab it.

The Shadow recoiled at the new obstacle, stopping just before it in a squirming mess. Blake was flung away from the beast in its panicked thrashing.

After watching Blake's body land with a splash in the mud, Weiss silently ordered the knight to grab hold of the Shadow before it scurried off into the Mossland again.

The way the Shadow screamed when it was grabbed nearly made Weiss lose all focus. It wasn't so much a scream as it was an amalgamation of a hundred voices, each somehow clearly discernible in the thunderous noise. Crying, laughing, whispering, singing- the voices that the Shadow spoke were not unfamiliar to Weiss.

Particles of light drifted along on the wind as she let the knight dissipate. Even as its grip left the Shadow, the beast did not try to flee again. The black mass seemed almost placated then as it stared at Weiss with a hundred eyes.

The Shadow drifted closer to the Heiress and its symphony of voices serenaded her. Each voice among the thousands hit Weiss with a rush of nostalgia, calming her as they spoke. Every sentence and laugh she heard in the mass tickled specific memoires in her mind that she'd not even known she could remember.

The voices the Shadow spoke with were hers.

Her vision was clouded as her lungs begged for air. No amount of effort could stop her mouth from opening and sucking in another lungful of mud. Each breath she tried to take only weighed her down and pulled her deeper into the inky black depths. Her skin tingled as the slimy remnants of the forest above slid past her as she sank.

A sharp pain at the back of head reminded her of how she'd been flung around like a ragdoll by the Shadow. Bloodied and weakened from being dragged along, her arms and legs flailed uselessly in the dark sludge around her. Even though it was thicker than water, the black liquid offered little resistance for her thrashing to move her.

As the lack of air set in and the adrenaline drained from her veins, several things occured to Blake at once. She couldn't feel her leg. Weiss was alone. She was going to die. Ruby would be lost. All that and Yang would never know what happened to any of them.

The panic slowly faded as Blake came to terms with her oncoming demise. Her limbs became still as the calm washed over her.

In her reverie, she didn't even notice the liquid start to solidify around her. The growing pressure squeezed at her body, forcefully ejecting the contents of her lungs and stomach. A wave of intense nausea rushed through her and she could taste dirt and bile in her mouth.

All at once the forest floor reappeared beneath her and the black liquid rushed past her. Gravity abruptly reintroduced itself to her as she slammed down onto the ground while the weight of the liquid crashed down on her from above.

She shivered in the cold air for only a moment before her stomach began to lurch. Her fit of coughing was the first thing she heard as her hearing returned and when her vision followed she could only see the pool of black sludge that was growing beneath her. A mix of mud and moss erupted from her stomach as she fought to clear her lungs and stomach of it. It burned her at the throat while the convulsions rocked her aching back.

When the vomiting eventually stopped and then the dry heaving shortly after that, Blake collapsed into the hot puddle, her chest rapidly rising and falling in time with her heavy wheezing. She let her eyes close, feeling the sting of forest particles catch under her eyelids.

She only had a moment to catch her breath when she remembered how she got there.

"Weiss!"

Her eyes shot open as she tried to get up, but a searing pain in her leg sent her falling back into the mud. A quick look at the offending leg explained the pain.

The extended blade of Gambol Shroud was speared straight through her thigh. As she lay on her side, she could see the silver section of the sword emerging from the back of her leg, dripping with blood. The longer she looked at it, the more she became aware of just how badly it hurt. She'd only just regained full consciousness, but she was quickly finding herself slipping away again.

If not for the thought of Weiss she may have given way to her blood loss, but determination and a rush of adrenaline kept her awake. Before she could second guess herself, Blake reached for the handle of her weapon and gave it a hard pull. When she saw the weak solder point where silver met onyx, she placed her palm on the flat of the blade and twisted the handle.

Even her adrenaline could only do so much to numb the pain. She screamed and writhed in agony in the mud. Tears ran in streaks through the mud that caked her face. Her fist clenched tightly around the handle of Gambol Shroud as she rode out the waves of pain.

There was a scream in the distance, not unlike the one Blake let out only moments before. It was short and violent, followed by a silence that Blake found more concerning than the scream itself.

She crawled through the mud toward the scream, with Gambol Shroud in hand and her leg dragging uselessly behind her. The silver blade still embedded in her thigh would occasionally catch on a stray rock, but Blake fought through the pain as she crawled.

A small incline was between her and the direction of the scream. Using what remained of Gambol Shroud's blade to dig into the dirt for leverage, she dragged herself over the incline. Though the incline couldn't have been any higher than Blake's waist, it felt like she'd conquered a mountain as she reached its crest.

In the clearing beyond, Blake saw Weiss. The heiress was alive and apparently unharmed. The same could not be said for the red caped girl that lay before her, speared by Myrtenaster.